"No!" Cool B screamed, trying desperately to get the couple's attention. But at that exact moment, the woman also shouted, "No! Baby, you're too strong!" Cool B's voice was completely drowned out, not even making a ripple in their world.
The drum started spinning. Cool B hammered on the glass window, making a racket, but the washing machine's own thumping and bumping covered everything up. The vibrations outside had the couple totally lost in their own world, blissed out and oblivious.
"Faster, faster, harder!" the woman shouted, fiddling with the washing machine's panel. With every twist of the knob, the machine spun wilder, and Cool B was instantly sucked into a world of half water, half air, and pure chaos.
"I need more firepower! Give me more!" the woman screamed in ecstasy, while the man went all-in with his hips. Amidst the squelching noises, drops of mysterious liquid dripped down, spreading to the control panel and seeping inside. Suddenly, a tiny spark flashed, and a wisp of smoke curled out from the panel.
"Ahhh—!" The woman shrieked, her whole body tensing up, her nails digging ten red lines into the man's back. The man grunted, his body shuddering—he was finally done, too.
"Oh, darling, you were amazing." The woman panted, showering him with praise, and the two started cleaning up. They wiped things down with dirty laundry, dealt with some suspicious goo, then got dressed and prepared to leave.
"Let's turn off this washing machine. That banging is driving me nuts." With a smack, the woman hit the rinse button, and the machine finally quieted down. The couple joked around as they left, never noticing the person inside, or the little spark that flickered across the panel, lighting up the 'Spin Dry' indicator.
Inside the washing machine drum, Cool B was barely hanging on. The tumbling, the near-drowning, and those nasty bumps designed for cleaning clothes had nearly finished him off. Luckily, there was still a pocket of air in the drum—otherwise, he wouldn't have lasted a minute. Feeling the drum finally calm down, Cool B shoved his head into the air pocket and gasped for breath, coughing out water.
Splash—water started flowing, but this time it was draining, not filling up. The water level dropped, and Cool B finally got a break. "Cough, cough, help! Somebody help!" He banged on the glass, not caring if the couple outside would come back and crush him. But they just laughed their way out, slamming the door behind them—and slamming the door on Cool B's hopes.
"No!" Cool B fished out his phone, but it was soaked and useless. He tried brute force to escape, but after a couple of weak punches, realized he didn't have the strength. In the cramped space, Cool B twisted around, planning to kick the door open. "Lucky there's no water now, and it's not moving," he panted, finally able to wriggle into position thanks to his skinny frame.
Just as Cool B was about to kick the door, he heard the motor whirr—the drum started spinning again, faster, harder, crazier than before. Spin dry mode, baby!
"No—!!!"
In that split second, Cool B remembered Jack Young's warning: Falling elevators = shaking metal boxes = noisy washing machines. Impact = swinging rods and wild thrusting *** = a shut washing machine door. Omens are all about these subtle connections—if only he'd noticed sooner...
Meanwhile, Julie got a call from Jack Young. Nobody knew who'd be hit next, so she needed backup. She checked around—Kevin was missing, off who knows where. Bartley and Tilia were out shopping for essentials. So, she woke up her sister Wendy, and the two girls set off to find Cool B.
Having survived a Death incident before, the sisters were way more street-smart than Cool B. They kept an eye out for anything related to 'falling objects' or 'elevators' as they reached the described spot. Staring at the dark entrance to the basement, with wild music and sketchy sounds coming from inside, the sisters exchanged a look.
"This is seriously not a place for girls," the more conservative sister muttered, feeling super uncomfortable.
"Come on, let's get inside. It's getting cloudy, might rain soon—let's wrap this up and get home!" The livelier sister grabbed her hand and marched in. Luckily, it was so dim inside you couldn't see much, and the sisters made it to a quiet corridor without incident. Step by step, they pushed open the laundry room door.
The moment they entered, a faint burnt smell hit their noses.
Wendy sensed something was wrong and dashed inside. In the deepest corner, the washing machine had stopped spinning, but the 'Dry' light was going nuts.
"Cut the power!" She yanked the cord, killing the lights. She reached for the washing machine door—it was hot. Wincing, she swung it open, and a cloud of nasty fumes billowed out. Peeking inside, she saw Cool B lying motionless, skin dark with red patches, like he'd been roasted alive.
"Get him to the hospital, quick!"
A shrill siren cut through the streets—a speeding ambulance raced toward City Central Hospital. Nurses and doctors swarmed Cool B onto a stretcher and charged into the ER. Slam—the doors shut, and the 'Emergency' light blazed red. It was 4 p.m., but the sky was already dark and gloomy. Heavy clouds hung overhead, cold wind whipped the trees, and leaves fluttered down.
The sisters huddled together in the waiting area, sharing what little warmth they could. Another member of the Survivor Squad was in danger, life or death unknown, leaving them feeling helpless. What they needed now was a reliable guy to lean on.
"Where's Kevin?" At this moment, the image of their handsome, battle-tested companion flashed in Julie's mind. She stared wide-eyed at Wendy: "Seriously, where's Kevin when we need him?"
Wendy thought the same thing, and immediately dialed his number. After three rings, he picked up: "Hey, Kevin, where are you?" Wind and car horns whistled through the line. "Are you on the move?" Wendy pressed.
"Yeah, I'm on the road, riding my e-bike. Relax, I'm sticking to the curb and obeying traffic laws."
"Why?" Wendy asked, confused. "Where are you headed?"
"Wendy, I saw the sixth tip in Femi Foster's guide today. It says a Black mortician might know something. And that mortician is right here in our city, so I'm going to find him and ask some questions."
"You!" Wendy snapped, unable to hold back her frustration. "Do you even know what you're doing? You're risking your life! Cool B was nearly roasted alive just now, and he's in the ER at City Central, and here you are, zipping across town like it's nothing. Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?"
"I know, but somebody's gotta do something." Kevin's voice was resolute on the other end. "Wendy, I won't let you live in fear forever. Maybe I'm not the most capable guy, but I have to do what I can. Wendy, I know what happened six months ago left us both scarred, and I know Jason will always live in your heart. But I just want you to be happy. Wendy, I..."
After a pause, Kevin finally said those three words: "I love you."
Driven by love, Kevin left the team and struck out on his own.