The Geostorm Series (Book 4): Geostorm [The Flood]

Home > Other > The Geostorm Series (Book 4): Geostorm [The Flood] > Page 11
The Geostorm Series (Book 4): Geostorm [The Flood] Page 11

by Akart, Bobby


  She arrived at the car, which was being pushed back and forth by the water. Blindly, she fumbled for the door handle and finally gripped it in an effort to pull it open. The immense pressure exerted by the water prevented her from pulling it open, an indication that there was still some air inside the vehicle. A good sign.

  She wondered what had happened to Chapman, but she focused on trying to save the passengers, if any. Isabella kicked her legs, propelling her body to the hood of the car, where she found the broken windshield. Without regard to the cuts her hands received from the bits of glass, she pulled herself inside the car until she was in the front seat.

  Buoyancy was pulling her up, so she didn’t fight it even though it meant she might get trapped inside. She had to assume there was air inside the vehicle.

  Suddenly, the car was shoved downward and through the turbulent waters. She could hear a scream. Using the steering wheel, she pushed herself into the back seat, where she crashed into a tangle of bodies, including Chapman’s.

  Her face broke the plane of the water inside the car and she immediately gasped for air. Her eyes darted around in the darkness but couldn’t see anything.

  “Chapman?”

  “Yes, Isabella, I’m here.”

  “We are, too,” said Tammy Holiday. “I think we’re sinking. We tried to kick out the window, but we’re not strong enough.”

  “I’ll try it,” said Chapman. He began to maneuver his body until Isabella stopped him.

  “There is no time,” said Isabella. “A boat is—” A sudden jolt, followed by a series of thumps finished her sentence. The pontoon boat, with its steel floats, was now battering the underside of the Mitsubishi.

  Chapman gathered his thoughts. “Lady, can you swim?”

  “I can,” replied her daughter.

  “I can’t,” came the meek voice of her mother.

  Chapman laid out his plan. “Okay, what’s your name?”

  “I’m Tammy and this is my daughter, Betsy.”

  “Good. Betsy, I want you to put your arms around Isabella’s neck and hold on.”

  “Okay,” responded the incredibly calm child. She worked her way around her mother until she was behind Isabella, whom Chapman addressed next. “Can you swim with her on your back?”

  “Oui.”

  “Okay, you guys go ahead.” Chapman paused to help Isabella work her way under water, and he made sure Betsy was safely in place on her back. After a moment, he turned to Tammy. “Okay, Mom, it’s you and me now. Same thing. Arms around my neck, but please don’t choke me. Okay?”

  “Yes. Do I try to kick my legs?”

  “No,” Chapman quickly replied. “Don’t move at all and let me do the work. You might do something that ends up working against us.”

  “Sir, thank you.”

  Chapman took a deep breath. “All right, get into position.” The woman eased behind Chapman and gently wrapped her arms around his shoulders and locked her fingers just below his neck. Chapman took a deep breath and pulled the two of them through the bucket seats. He used the steering wheel as the second rung of the ladder to force their descent deeper into the river, and then with a push of his feet off the roof of the car, they swung around the windshield and turned upward toward the surface.

  He felt exhilarated having cleared the broken windshield, and it gave him a newfound strength. He pushed through the waves, away from the vehicle. As he twisted his body upwards, there was a tug on Tammy, and she lost her grip. In the darkness, she was gone.

  His lungs were about to burst, so he had no choice but to push upward to get air. As he did, a whooshing sound could be heard as water was displaced just to the side of him. It threatened to distract him, but he rose to the surface anyway.

  When he broke the surface, he treaded water and frantically looked around for Isabella. He shouted her name and was immediately relieved when he heard her voice.

  “Chapman! Come to shore!”

  “But the mom let go. I have to go back.”

  “No! We saw her. Levi went into the water.”

  Chapman shook his head in disbelief. His brother was injured from head to toe and had no business fighting through this tumultuous current. He treaded water for a moment, waiting for his brother to emerge with the mom.

  *****

  Holding the neck of the man who was saving them with what little strength she had, Tammy began to sense this was all going to be okay. He turned their bodies upward toward the surface, but as he did, her pant leg got caught on the torn fender of her car. She reached back with her left hand, hoping to pull herself free, and when she did, she lost her grip on her rescuer.

  She pulled and tugged her leg, eventually freeing it, but ripping open a long gash in her calf in the process. She reflexively screamed in pain, causing her to take in water. She became light-headed and began to lose consciousness. There was no air left in her lungs as her body floated weightlessly under water, the strong current created by the floodwaters carrying her under the propane tank and downriver. There was no air left in her lungs as Tammy Holiday closed her mouth in a last-ditch effort to avoid drowning.

  Suddenly, someone crashed into her body. In the darkness, she couldn’t tell if it was the man who tried to rescue her, or another savior. His strong hands gripped her around the waist and then wrapped his arms under her armpits. He kicked furiously at the water and lifted her upward, where together, they lunged into the air, bobbing once before sinking back below the surface.

  Levi kicked harder, squeezing her unintentionally as they breached the surface once again. This time, they stayed afloat, gasping for oxygen and allowing the rain to pelt their faces. He wrapped his right arm around her hips and used his left arm to pull them toward the shore. As they got closer, Chapman was there to assist, and seconds later, the three of them were lying on the soggy ground, breathing heavily.

  Then Tammy threw up. She retched over and over again as she tried to expel the river water she’d taken into her stomach in her last moments before dying.

  “Mommy!” her daughter shouted, causing her to smile as she hurled the contents of her stomach. Her daughter slid down the embankment and crashed into her, wrapping her arms around her neck so hard that the hug threatened to choke her.

  Then she heard the voices of the men who saved her. She turned to see them amidst the flashing blue lights of a sheriff’s car. The silhouettes of the two men could be seen as they hugged one another. They called each other Chapman and Levi.

  Chapter 23

  Cedar Glade

  Billy Clark’s Residence

  Corydon, Indiana

  The banks of Indian Creek began to swell as the torrential rains continued to fall on Southeast Indiana. The flooding hadn’t put a damper on the Clarks’ effort to run roughshod over Corydon and the rest of Harrison County. In addition to serving Sarah Boone the notice of default, Billy exerted the bank’s power over the citizens by using their indebtedness against them.

  He’d declared a default and seized the inventory of First Capitol Liquor Store. Through his conversations with Randy, it appeared one of the most sought-after commodities at the first barter trading day in town on Saturday had been liquor. Billy intended to be the biggest purveyor of said liquor, trading only the rotgut or types he didn’t plan on drinking himself over the years.

  However, he was angry that he’d missed out on the most prized items the locals needed, which were guns and ammunition. Gun World owed the bank money, but Allen Edmund’s note wasn’t due for almost a year. Billy wasn’t comfortable pulling any shenanigans against Gun World like he had the Boones because, well, Allen had too many guns.

  Plus, Randy didn’t want any part of it, and Joella had come up with a better solution—threaten to enforce the provisions of the president’s martial law declaration by seizing any weapons held out on public display.

  America was a nation in which over four hundred fifty million guns were in circulation. That was nearly four per household. Taking up arms
against an armed populace like those who lived in Harrison County was just plain stupid.

  Besides, Billy had other ways to make money and position himself for when this was over. People were starving. He quickly learned that most of the residents in town only had had a few days’ worth of food in their cupboards. Without power, much of that spoiled or went uneaten. They turned to their neighbors for help and found the door slammed in their faces.

  Desperate fathers begged in the streets. Then they offered up things of value that were worth far more than what they received in return. Jewelry, precious metals, weapons, and vehicles were traded for enough food to survive for another week.

  This, of course, immediately grabbed Billy’s attention. In Southeast Indiana, like other rural areas of the Midwest, families prided themselves on being debt-free. Homes had been in their hands for generations, unmortgaged, and ripe for the pickin’. Billy knew them all because it was his job to keep up with the value of real estate collateral, whether pledged to his bank or located adjacent to bank-mortgaged properties.

  With Randy and Joella’s help, he recruited a small army of minions. The first thing he did was levy the warehouse of the local IGA grocery store. This provided him valuable, nonperishable foods to use as currency. Nobody cared about the good old American dollar at this point. Currency wasn’t accepted anywhere for payment, and folks were losing hope that the power would be restored anytime soon.

  Self-preservation—Bully Billy’s bumper sticker, if you will—applied to everyone. If cars were being traded for a case of apricot preserves and some powdered milk to feed a mom’s babies, what might people trade for a couple of months’ worth of food?

  Billy tested the waters by sending out his charges to approach specific families who might be interested in making deals. The results, in his opinion, were phenomenal.

  He actually found himself laying off the booze for a day or so because he had to stay sober and awake late into the night preparing quitclaim deeds for some of Corydon’s oldest families. With Wanda notarizing the grantor’s signatures, Billy began to amass quite a real estate portfolio, all in the first forty-eight hours of his new enterprise.

  But none of this good fortune at the expense of others deterred him from pursuing Riverfront Farms. Randy had personally driven a new deputy, one of the former inmates, to serve Sarah the demand letter. If the Boone matriarch overreacted and shot the deputy, then no harm, no foul, as Randy put it. Over dinner that night, Joella and Billy listened to Randy recount the day’s events.

  “Her reaction was odd.”

  “Did she break down bawlin’?” asked Wanda hopefully. There was no love lost between the two women.

  “No, just the opposite. She opened the letter, glanced at it, and started laughing.”

  “Really?” asked a surprised Billy. “She wasn’t pissed?”

  Randy finished chewing his food and responded. He had no intention of retelling all of the details of what had actually happened. He didn’t want to listen to Billy’s second-guessing of how he’d handled the situation. “Nope, not Sarah. Her daughter-in-law, Carly, was. She flipped us off and unleashed more curse words than Sarah’s probably heard in a decade.”

  “She’s a feisty one,” mumbled Wanda, probably remembering the incident in Walmart.

  Joella had remained quiet during the conversation. She’d just been told about Billy’s use of nonmonetary default provisions to serve demand letters or to invoke collateral impairment clauses to outright seize property from businesses.

  As was her normal response to Billy’s actions, she blew up, berated him, and then explained all of the reasons none of this would hold up in court. And, as was typical for Billy, he had a comeback like possession is nine-tenths of the law or some nonsense.

  They were just finishing up dinner when there was a knock at the front door. It opened a few inches, and one of the deputies asked to speak with Randy. He shoveled the last of the food in his mouth and pushed away from the table.

  Billy and Joella made small talk about a letter she’d received from the governor’s office regarding FEMA and any requests for medical supplies the town might need. Joella assured Billy she’d requisition anything and everything the town was entitled to, but the medications would be sold at a profit for the benefit of the Clark family.

  Randy returned to the dining room and stopped short of the table.

  Billy was the first to notice his demeanor. “What’s happened now?” he asked, expecting some complication or another that might derail his plans.

  “My deputy was working an area in North County where there had been a lot of flooding. He came upon the Boone brothers helping some folks who were stuck in their car as the floodwaters almost swept them away.”

  Billy grimaced. “Crap. They’re on their way back already?”

  “Yeah, sort of,” replied Randy. A sly grin came across his face.

  “Dammit, Randy. Spill it!” Billy demanded.

  “Squire’s dead.”

  Billy slammed his fist on the dining table, causing his glass of wine to tip over. He didn’t care as he exclaimed, “Hell, damn, yeah! Do you know what this means?”

  Even Wanda was surprised at her husband’s outburst and lack of compassion for the Boone family. “Honey, maybe you shouldn’t celebrate.”

  Billy ignored her request. “It’s game over, sports fans! This is better than Peyton winning the Super Bowl for our Colts. See, Jo. I was spot-on with that demand letter. Wow, it’s amazing how a plan can come together.” He was over-the-top jubilant.

  Joella set her napkin on the table and shook her head in disgust. She leaned over to her husband and whispered. In unison, they both stood to leave.

  “What?” asked Billy innocently.

  Joella gave him a death stare. “You’ve disappointed me many times, but this is the first time you’ve truly disgusted me. The man has died and his family is probably devastated. This is not some victory to celebrate. This isn’t the damn Super Bowl. These are real people, Billy.”

  She turned and wrapped her arm through her husband’s. They began to leave, and Billy apologized, although he didn’t mean a word of it. Billy Clark never stopped manipulating people.

  “Come on, Jo. Please don’t leave. Sit down. I’m sorry. That was incredibly insensitive of me, and I just got caught up in the moment.” He stood and gestured for them to return to the table.

  Joella wasn’t interested. “No, Billy. Not this time. It’s getting late and the weather is horrible. I’m just not in the mood to talk about anything right now.”

  Without another word from anyone, Joella and her husband left. Once they were out the front door, Billy looked up at Randy, who’d remained standing throughout.

  “Is she gonna be a problem? I mean, I don’t need some sanctimonious sister looking over my shoulder and questioning every move I make.”

  Randy shrugged and replied, “I don’t think I’d worry about Jo. Just try to watch what you say around her. Remember, we need her on our side. She’s got access to federal government resources now. We don’t need her to cut us out.”

  Billy leaned back and spread his hands, acknowledging Randy’s point. “All right, I’ll bite my damn tongue. Besides, it’s almost over anyway. With Squire’s death, I can start foreclosure proceedings immediately. I’ll prepare the notice and we’ll get together tomorrow to discuss service. Okay?”

  Randy nodded. He, too, was put off by Billy’s actions, but over time, they agreed that the means justified the end.

  Chapter 24

  Riverfront Farms

  Southeast Indiana

  Chapman made the final turn toward the Boones’ driveway. The Ohio River had spilled over its banks after being well below its normal water elevations for more than a year. As the headlights washed over the grassy field that led to the river’s edge, Isabella was the first to notice the profound change in elevation since a few days ago when they’d left to take Squire to Fort Wayne.

  “Astonishing. C
hapman, do you see the water?”

  “Yeah, it’s risen at least twenty feet.”

  “Impossible,” whispered Isabella as she pressed her face against the window to get a better look.

  A despondent Levi sighed and thumped the dashboard with his fist. “Dammit, y’all. How are we gonna tell her? Are we supposed to open the rear hatch and say, um, here’s Dad.”

  Chapman had been thinking of this moment the entire trip from Fort Wayne, except during their daring rescue of the mother and her child. “We need to get inside before she notices. You know, get her sitting down and comfortable.”

  “No children,” added Isabella. “I am sorry, Levi. But it is best to explain things to them separately. Let them enjoy the moment of having their father home before you tell them.”

  “I agree,” said Chapman.

  Levi simply nodded his head. In his emotional state, Chapman wasn’t sure Levi was comprehending any of this. He was the closest to Squire of any of the three siblings.

  “Chapman, may I also make a suggestion?” she asked.

  “Please.”

  “I remember as a little girl when my parents told me of my grandfather’s death. I was very close to him, as my parents were always busy with their professions. It was a moment I will never forget, especially when they said he died. The word died was very emphatic and final.”

  Chapman slowed as he turned into the driveway. The water had reached the gravel and was forming a small lake in a swale nearby.

  “Americans like to use words like passed or lost or gone. They think it makes it easier to accept, but it seems to me downplaying his death might just confuse your mother.”

  “This sucks,” said Levi bluntly. Two words summed up the task at hand.

  Chapman worked the scene through in his mind as he drove the final few hundred yards to the house. He was gonna lead his mother inside and sit her down on the sofa. He’d instruct Levi to take his kids into the bedroom with Carly. He’d only need to look at Kristi and she’d immediately understand.

 

‹ Prev