I look at Beth but she quickly shakes her head: Not now, she indicates, watching Will, listening intently—as her face lights up and the floor jolts yet again.
Then Will is lowering the radio, addressing the group, as Beth begins to sign, frantically, So there’s good news and bad news. The bad news is: those aren’t just giant hailstones—which I reckon you’ve already noticed. They’re meteors. Golf ball-sized bolides. Worse; there’s more of them—and I mean a lot more; coming right now—which means the submarine is gonna have to dive, and quick. Which means it’s just possible we are in a world of s**t.
He focuses exclusively on Beth and me—I’m not sure why. The good news is, that truck parked at the loading dock is already stocked; I mean, it’s packed to the gills—they must have been ready to
