Coming Home to You

Her POV

Leaving the coolant area after putting the samples away, I round the corner and run smack into Anderson.

"I'm so sorry. I can be such a klutz," I apologize.

"It's alright," he tells me, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I rush out.

"Are you sure? Just you seemed a little emotional with that lycan."

"Really I'm fine," I reassure him, "He just reminds me of someone."

"Your husband?" he asks, pity entering his eyes.

Knowing I can't lie my way out of what he saw, I just nod my head once.

"Right," he shifts uncomfortably, "I shouldn't have said anything. We should just get back to work."

"Good idea," I tell him, moving a step past him to leave.

"Hey, weren't you carrying a travel mug?" he asks me, turning back around to stare at my now empty hands.

"Not today," I shrug, "I accidentally left it in the car this morning."

He nods before he walks past me into the freezer area. I quickly walk to my desk, glancing at the watch on my wrist.

A couple more hours and I’ll be going home.

A Few Months Ago

Walking around the house, I wiped surface after surface as I wait for the phone to ring. Nerves fill my every pore as I try to keep my thoughts on cleaning and not wonder if my husband is alright.

Just because he was supposed to be home over three hours ago didn’t mean anything was wrong. He was just late. He was going to call any minute or walk through the door.

He’s alright. He’s coming home, I tell myself, He always comes home.

The phone shrilled through the house. I rushed to the kitchen and pulled it from the stand. Quickly hitting accept, I brought the phone up to my ear, “Hello.”

“Ashlyn,” my name sounded through the receiver but it felt miles off, “It’s Jacob. I just got word from a patrol. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry about what?” I ask, terrified of the answer.

“Something has happened to your husband.”

His words struck me as my lungs stopped working. He continued talking to me, telling me what happened, but I couldn’t hear his words.

I felt underwater as his words push towards my ears, but all I hear is a mumbling of sound as I collapse toward the wooden floor.

He’s gone.

I’ve lost him.

He’s not coming home.

The ground shakes as a large booming noise rocks the building. Every light in the lab flips to a flashing red as sirens blare through the speakers of the room.

"What was that?" one of the lab techs asks. The fear in the room was palpable.

"It was an explosion."

"Like a bomb?"

"Are we under attack?"

"Enough!" Anderson cries out, silencing the room, "Everyone just relax. I'm sure if we were in any danger, the guards would come to get us."

The group stays huddled together, murmuring to themselves as Anderson walks over to me.

"Red lights and an explosion," I whisper to him. He nods his head in understanding, "It's not some accident. We need to get out of here."

"In the case of an attack, this room is locked down. We can't leave until a guard opens the door."

Looking down at my watch, I glance quickly at the time. It's been exactly one minute and thirty-two seconds since the explosion. My eyes immediately are drawn to the back of the room towards the coolant systems.

"We don't have time to wait," I tell him.

"If the attack is on the outside, the safest place for us is in this room," he tries to reason, but I can see he wants to agree with me. He doesn't want to be a sitting duck here.

A shrieking sound starts to play over the alarm, "Prisoners have escaped. Prisoners have escaped."

I glare at him, "You were saying?"