The sky was warm with sunset.
May's backyard buzzed with laughter and the smell of grilled meat. A gathering of survivors—those still clinging to the illusion of normalcy. For just one night, they were trying to forget about Death. About Mark. About the pattern.
Cole manned the grill with practiced ease, flipping patties while cracking jokes. Leah sat by the fire pit with May, sipping soda, her eyes softer than they'd been in days. She watched Cole like someone afraid to blink.
The others—three new friends who had survived the AquaWorld disaster by luck or warning—mingled on the porch. Light music played. It was too peaceful.
Too still.
The Fault in the Flame
What no one noticed was the minor leak in the propane line.
Earlier, when Cole struggled to connect the tank, he twisted it slightly out of place. Just enough.
A slow, quiet hiss had been breathing beneath the grill for twenty minutes.
No scent. No warning.
Until the wind changed.
A breeze rolled over the yard—cool, whispering through leaves. It licked the open flame.
Ignition.
Impact Sequence
Trigger 1: The leaky line catches.
Trigger 2: The lid slams shut from the pressure.
Trigger 3: The tank beneath the grill shudders once—then detonates.
BOOM.
Fire engulfed the corner of the yard.
Screams burst from every direction. Cole was thrown backward into the lawn table, the impact knocking the air from his lungs.
But Leah—she had just stood to get another soda.
She turned at the sound, eyes wide, mouth parted.
Then—
A jagged piece of the grill lid, spinning like a metal disc, sliced through the smoke.
It struck her forehead.
Time stilled.
Her body stumbled back like a puppet cut loose from its strings, her expression still frozen in shock. She collapsed in the grass, her blood soaking into the earth beneath her.
The Aftermath
Cole crawled to her side, screaming her name.
But Leah didn't move.
The others backed away in stunned silence, two of the survivors sobbing as they stared at the melted remains of the grill. May dropped to her knees.
A siren howled in the distance.
Cole held her in his arms, his face pressed against her cooling skin. "No," he whispered. "It was supposed to be over."
But they all knew.
Death had recalculated.
Mark's sacrifice had only delayed the sequence.
And now it had begun again.