Rigo cried out and Marisela came running into the boys’ bedroom. He was standing before the left side of his bed, shining a flashlight on both the bed and the wall behind it. Alex stood beside him, speechless, clutching the cuff of Rigo’s sleep shorts. With the lights off, the only thing easily visible was the part of the thing that his flashlight illuminated.
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Everything went dark. And for just a heartbeat, Frank was strangely soothed by the luxury of pretending he was just sitting in the closet above ground on a muggy day. And then the emergency lights came on and all the instruments were beeping and blaring and the commanding officer was giving orders that Frank could not hear as he took his station and stared at the dials and readings that made no sense. It was like what happened in movies when the needles of a meter flipped back and forth and computer read-outs blinked and fuzzed for dramatic effect. Only it was really happening. The instruments were going haywire. And their submarine, ominously named the Harbinger, was caught in some kind of turbulence.
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