by Kenny Soward
Sara hit “Send” on the email window, sat back in her chair, and stared out the kitchen window as the rain and wind beat against it.
Chapter 11
Jake, Boston Massachusetts | 12:05 a.m., Sunday
Someone shook Jake awake, and he opened his eyes to Marcy’s fearful face looking down at him.
“Wha—?” Jake asked in confusion, the darkness of sleep still clinging to his brain.
“Shhh,” Marcy hissed and put her finger to her lips.
“What’s going on?” Jake’s voice was quieter this time, his instinct for self-preservation overriding his grogginess.
“Someone’s in the warehouse,” Marcy said, glancing over her shoulder. “Should we talk to them?”
Jake heard a crash down the hall, like someone slamming one of the office doors shut, followed by whispering and chuckles. It sounded like two men, but Jake couldn’t be sure.
“I think we need to just go,” Jake said in a whisper. “We can’t assume they’re friendly, and we don’t know how many there are.”
Jake straightened in his chair and immediately winced at the spike of pain that shot up his lower back. He must have been asleep for hours in the same, uncomfortable position, and his entire body was stiff and kinked up. Ignoring the pain, he stood as smoothly as he could to avoid further protest from his body. He lifted his backpack from the table and gestured toward the door he’d checked earlier. Marcy nodded and followed him over. Jake eased the door open, and Marcy slid through without a sound. Before Jake left the room, he looked back and saw the empty can of tuna and water bottles sitting there. All someone had to do was feel the chair seats to know they’d been sitting there just moments before.
It was too late now, because the door opposite him began to slowly open. Jake stepped into the dark hall and closed the door behind him with a faint squeak. Then he caught up with Marcy, who was already halfway down the hall. She held the lantern shielded in her hand, and her expression was ghostly and terrified as the light shone upward. Jake fixed Marcy with a firm but relaxed expression as he moved past her.
He turned left at the end of the hall only to face another long stretch ahead. They rushed past mops, brooms, and boxes of cleaning supplies, nearly stumbling over the junk as he went. Jake’s shoulder clipped a power box that stood out from the wall, and he clamped his mouth shut to muffle a grunt.
“Careful,” Marcy whispered.
Jake nodded and then took another left at the end of the hall. This one was similar in length to the first one, with only a white door in sight at the end. He stopped in front of it but didn’t go through. His instincts told him that it wasn’t an exit at all, that it probably led right back into the warehouse.
“Turn it off,” Jake whispered to Marcy before he set his pack down and unzipped the pocket with the knife. He drew the blade out and tested its grip just as Marcy killed the light.
“Ready?” he asked, turning to her in the dark.
“Yes,” she replied in a breathy whisper.
Jake pressed the metal door bar and felt the slight click as it opened. An open blackness yawned in front of him. It must be the warehouse, but it was so dark that the rows of shelves blended in with the dark completely.
All they had to do was make it to an exit.
Calming his hammering heart, Jake held his knife in his left hand and felt out with his right, crouching as he moved around the outer wall. Marcy rested her hand on his hip and stuck tight to him. There were no sounds except their own shuffling footsteps at first, then he caught faint whispers from the other side of the warehouse, and someone else’s footsteps shuffled along with theirs.
“Come out, come out,” a man said in a sing-song voice. Jake heard the threat beneath the words. “We know you’re in here. We just want to have a little chit-chat. Maybe we can form a group and increase our odds. You know what they say. The more the merrier.”
A second man snickered from another part of the warehouse, and Marcy’s fingers slid into the belt loop of Jake’s jeans and gripped it tight as they made their way to the corner of the warehouse. Jake felt his way around objects, sometimes knocking them with his feet and causing him to wince. He was sure that whoever was in here with them was waiting patiently, homing in on Jake’s mistakes.
Marcy suddenly pulled on Jake’s belt loop, and he turned and held his hand up instinctively and whispered, “What is it?”
“Here.” Marcy felt for his hand awkwardly and then guided it to the wall, placing it on a doorknob with a lock built into it. A wave of relief flooded Jake, and he felt up and down the doorframe to find two more deadbolts. They would need to be unlocked before he could open the door, and it would undoubtedly be noisy.
“Ready?” he asked, and Marcy jerked on his sleeve to indicate that she was.
Jake threw the two deadbolts, each one clicking loudly in the darkness. Then he unlocked the doorknob and turned it.
But when Jake pulled on the knob, the door wouldn’t open. He jiggled the doorknob back and forth, but it wasn’t clearing the striker plate. Jake would have to stand up and really use some force if he wanted to get it open.
“Aw, are you trying to get away from us?” The direction of the man’s voice came from behind them, and his shuffling footsteps quickened as he came around fast.
“Let’s go,” Jake whispered urgently to Marcy, letting go of the knob and pulling her away from the door.
They shuffled through the dark once more as an impending sense of doom threatened to take hold of Jake. They were being surrounded, and there was no doubt in his mind that these people weren’t friendly.
Jake’s foot struck something, and he stopped and put his hand out to discover that it was a stack of boxes. He stood up slowly, feeling his way to the top box, which was open. Slipping his hand inside, he clutched a perfectly round can of tuna and lifted it out.
Ignoring Marcy’s urgent tug on his belt, Jake closed his eyes and listened carefully, becoming one with the warehouse around him. He made himself part of the blackness, listening for the slightest shift in sound, feeling for any change in air pressure. Strangely enough, he detected the faintest sounds of someone coming around on their left, and someone else almost dead ahead.
A grin formed on his face as he shifted position to angle more to the left. Then he drew his arm back like a bowler and rolled the tuna can so that it hit the cement and kept going. Quickly reaching inside the box, he pulled out two more cans and rolled them in different directions.
No longer trying to hide his movements, Jake shuffled ahead through the dark toward the back exit of the warehouse with Marcy in tow. The sounds of the rolling tuna cans echoed through the warehouse, making it impossible for anyone to pinpoint their location.
Jake felt his way between the last row of shelves and thought he saw the familiar shape of the desk at the back of the warehouse. He picked up the pace, practically dragging Marcy behind him, the exit in sight.
A flashlight burst to life from somewhere inside the warehouse and swept along the rows of shelves.
“There!” someone called as the beam of light found them between the boxes of tuna and followed them as they rushed along.
“C’mon,” Jake growled, and he took off in a sprint toward the exit with Marcy running right behind him. The light would benefit their attackers, but Jake and Marcy could take advantage of it, too.
Their pounding footsteps filled the warehouse as they reached the end of the row. Just when Jake thought they’d made it, a man stepped in front of them and barred their way. Jake still held his knife in his left hand, so he lowered his right shoulder and barreled into the man’s chest. The man grunted and went down in a heap as Jake bowled him over, then he turned to see Marcy step past the downed figure.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the back door, throwing it open and stepping into a pitch-black night. Rain battered them immediately, wind tossing water into their faces in cold splashes. Jake rushed to the edge of the dock and jumped down. Th
en he turned to catch Marcy, easing her landing, before they both sprinted off into the darkness.
Someone cursed them from the doorway, but Jake and Marcy were already gone.
Chapter 12
Sara, Gatlinburg, Tennessee | 7:03 a.m., Sunday
“Tie the top trough down over the lower ones, then tie the rope through the loop!” Sara’s words carried over the growing storm. She stood on the roof of the utility shed with her foot pressing down on one of the water troughs while Todd tied it down through a steel loop in the roof. The troughs were part of their water collection system, and they were almost done securing them, except for one small section.
The strongest part of the storm was upon them, just like Tex had warned. The mainstream news agencies had confirmed it, too, and there was no way to sugarcoat it. Two tornadoes had already touched down in middle Tennessee, making Sara even more nervous. She’d switched off the news and got to work battening down their possessions.
“Got it, Mom!” Todd shouted back and moved on to the last section.
Sara moved her foot onto another trough and pressed down so Todd could secure it, making sure to keep her feet spread to keep her balance on the shed. She looked up between the waving tree branches to see an ominous sky, shuddering to think it was about to get worse. Sara turned her head to the right, eyes falling upon their bridge. The stream had risen even higher, and now it smashed against the side, spraying water high into the air, but the corners of the bridge were moored in cement, so it should stay in place.
“Done!” Todd finished the last tie, slapped the trough for good measure, and stood. He turned to face Sara, squinting into the rising wind. “Are we getting down now?”
“Most definitely,” Sara said, gesturing toward the ladder. “Be careful.”
Todd went to the edge of the roof and turned, putting his foot on the top rung before climbing down slowly. It was only twelve feet to the bottom, but that was enough of a fall to twist an ankle or knee. Sara looked over the edge and saw Todd touch down. Then her son put his hands on the ladder and leaned his weight against it.
Sara used the same technique as Todd, putting her hands on the top of the ladder and then turning before she put her foot on the top rung. After she’d climbed down four steps, Sara unhooked the ladder from the roof and continued down until she stood on the wet grass once more.
They lowered the ladder and carried it around the front of the shed, Sara leading. She stepped inside and went to her left around the generator, carrying her end all the way to the far side. Once Todd got inside, they rested the ladder on the floor and leaned it against the wall.
Their 7500-watt dual fuel generator sat in the center of the room, and fuel cans lined the back wall. The opposite wall was filled with water barrels being fed by the trough and filtration system they’d just secured to the roof. There was a second filtration off the outtake spigot in case the water in the barrels became tainted, and the generator had a covered exhaust pipe leading outside the shed as well.
“Okay, let’s get back inside,” Sara said, tossing a reluctant glance outside. “I’m tired of being wet.”
“Me, too,” Todd said.
“Go ahead. I’ll lock up.”
Todd pulled his poncho tight around his shoulders and jogged out of the shed toward the cabin. Sara stepped out onto the small wooden deck, shut the metal door behind her, and locked the three deadbolts to secure it. Then she walked across the wet grass to the cabin porch, shoulders hunched and shivering as the wind blew cold rain down inside her poncho.
“Whatever happened to nice, sleepy-time rain?” Sara mumbled under her breath, remembering all the times she’d fallen asleep with the help of rain sounds on her rain app.
A sudden wind kicked up and came through the yard like a banshee, nearly shoving Sara to the ground. She stumbled and threw her hands out to keep her balance before breaking into a sprint to the house.
Sara leapt up the three short steps and stood beneath the front porch awning. The front door was thrown open, and she heard Todd toss his boots on the towels inside. Sara looked around and was amazed at the rivulets of water rushing down Pine Bluff through their yard.
“It’s getting crazy out there,” Sara called inside as she took off her boots. She stepped into the cabin entryway and placed her boots off to the side on a different towel. Then she shut the door to cut off the wind before she removed her poncho and socks, setting them next to her boots.
“You’re soaked,” Zoe said, watching them from the couch.
“Gee, thanks for the information,” Sara said with an eye roll, and Zoe rolled her eyes in response, giggling.
Rex padded down the hallway, sat on his wagging tail, and cocked his head at Todd and Sara.
“What are you looking at?” Sara asked the German Shepherd. He gave her a concerned whine and went to join Zoe on the couch.
Sara shook her head at the dog as she walked down the hall to the master bedroom. She pushed the double doors open and stepped inside, looking at her suitcase thrown on the bed and clothes strewn everywhere. It took a minute to find a fresh pair of jeans and a flannel shirt. She hadn’t slept in the king-size bed last night, because it was way too big and empty without Jake. She’d chosen the couch instead, buried under covers and blankets and falling asleep to the sound of the real rain just outside her window.
Dressed in fresh clothes, Sara went out to the living room, toweling her hair dry as she walked. Zoe had turned off her movie and now sat at the kitchen table playing with her craft kit.
“Virginia, Tennessee, Kentucky, and Ohio are all under severe storm warnings,” Todd said from the couch.
“What about the tornado warnings from earlier?”
“They’re still on until 2 p.m. for the central counties.”
“Thanks for the update,” Sara said. “I hope everyone stays safe out there.”
“Are the tornadoes going to hit us?” Zoe asked without looking up from her necklace making.
“No, baby,” Sara said, putting her arm around her daughter. “The tornadoes won’t come up in the mountains. They’d lose too much energy trying to get to us up here.”
“That’s a relief.” Zoe said.
“It sure is.” Sara went over to Jake’s recliner and sat on the edge. “When is the worst of the storm going to hit us?”
“Any minute now,” Todd said, and he held up his phone so she could see the dark green storm front covering them on the weather map. “It’s a remnant from the hurricanes in the east.”
“Oh, boy. That looks bad.”
“It’s going to be a doozy,” Todd agreed.
“This is what we prepared for.” Sara’s lips formed a tight line. “You checked the shed anchors, right?”
“I did. And I put the new solar panel in the cellar with the others.”
“Thanks,” Sara said. “That’s about all we can do for now, except maybe a little dusting and cleaning.”
“Aw, Mom,” Zoe said with a frown. “Do we have to?”
“I can’t think of anything better to do while it’s all rainy and ugly out, can you?”
“I can think of a million things better to do,” Zoe said, putting another bead on a string.
“Don’t you want things to be nice for your father when he gets here?”
“He can’t come through the storm, Mom,” Zoe said pointedly.
“True. But as soon as the storm lets up—”
A crack of thunder cut through the quiet moment, causing Sara to flinch. The house shuddered with a gust of wind, and debris peppered the kitchen window.
Sara jumped up and went into the kitchen, looking out at the side of the house where the tool shed stood. Todd came over from the couch to stand next to Sara, sharing her view of the storm from two feet back. Zoe went to the back door, put her face to the glass, and looked out. There wasn’t much to see from that angle save for the back porch and the amazing view of the valley, but Sara didn’t want her daughter standing so close.
“Back up, Zo,” Sara said, and Zoe took a step back from the glass until Sara could put her hands on the little girl’s shoulders.
“Wow, look at that,” Todd said as they watched a big branch fall down from a tree and get tossed against the tool shed. “The tool shed isn’t as sturdy as the storage shed. You think we’ll lose it?”
“I don’t know.” Sara shook her head. “They’re just tools. They can be replaced.”
A violent gust of wind kicked up and shook the house, causing Sara’s gut to turn. She knew in the back of her mind that a tornado would have a tough time hitting them with full effect up here in the mountains, but it didn’t feel that way with the wind howling like it was.
The lights suddenly blinked out, and then they flickered back to life as the power generator kicked in. Zoe yelped, turned to Sara, and wrapped her arms around her waist. Sara rested her hand on the girl’s head and rubbed her hair around.
“Our power lines run underground,” Todd said. “How can we lose power?”
“That’s true for up here,” Sara said calmly, although her voice edged up with tension. “Down in the valley, they still use poles. One pole goes down, and we lose power on the mountain.”
“That’s pretty lame.”
“That’s why we have the generator.” Sara took a deep, worried breath as she looked out into the churning, growing darkness. “Kids, let’s get into the cellar, pronto.”
Chapter 13
Jake, Boston Massachusetts | 10:15 a.m., Sunday
Jake woke with a start, eyes wild and with the sense that someone was chasing him. It was a dream where he’d ducked and weaved through the pitch black, banging his knees against unseen things before finding a quiet place to hide. A place where the bad people wouldn’t find him. A shelter from the storm.
