by Alexis Anne
We hunched down against the wall, tucking the girls under our chins. Dozens followed us and a part of me was grateful for the crush of bodies. It was comforting to feel like we were all in this together.
The building continued to vibrate and the sounds somehow managed to grow louder and more eerie. How was it possible for it to sound both human and inhuman at the same time? A chill shot down my spine and I hugged Max closer. She was half asleep. Almost unaware of what was happening other than the fact that her mother was holding her while she slept. She burrowed tighter into my chest.
And then suddenly everything stopped.
“Thank god,” someone said from behind me.
Zoe sighed with relief. “That was terrifying.”
Yet somehow the sudden silence was scarier to me.
“It’s not over,” I said. “If we’re inside the eye it’ll be nice for a few minutes but then…” I didn’t finish my sentence.
I didn’t want to scare anyone as badly as I was scaring myself, but I also didn’t want anyone to think the storm was over. It wasn’t. We were only at the halfway point.
“The roof is gone!” A woman’s voice echoed in from the stairwell. “I can see the stars!”
“Close the door! Are you dumb?” someone else yelled back.
“But it’s beautiful out!” The woman called back. “You should see it!” The she gasped. “Oh, god. No!”
The door slammed shut and a minute later, the wind returned just as hard and intense as it had been the moment before the calm struck.
I COULDN’T MOVE my arm. I’d fallen asleep clutching Max so tightly that my arm was now permanently stuck in that position—not that Max cared.
“Momma you’re hurting me.”
It’s amazing how fast you can move, even when you’re hurt, if you child needs you. “Sorry, baby. Is that better?”
She wrinkled her nose and tried to look around me. “The mall is broken.”
I nodded. “Yes, it is. But it kept us safe all night long. The storm is over now.”
Behind us was a crowded sea of huddled bodies with shell-shocked faces. There had been another two hours of terrible wind after the eye passed, but now it was morning and there was sunlight filtering in from the second floor.
One by one the mass of survivors disentangled themselves and spread out to assess the damage. It was extensive. The roof was, in fact, gone. All of the glass doors and windows had been blown out of the department stores, blowing shards of glass, clothes, and mannequins everywhere.
The parking lot wasn’t any better. Cars were flipped and pushed up against the building. All of their windows had shattered, while some had been hit by large debris that had long since blown on to smash into something else.
But it wasn’t the devastation of the parking lot that was the hardest to take in. It was everything beyond the mall that took my breath away. Everything had been leveled. Some houses were just…gone. Some were left in pieces. Debris was everywhere.
When I looked up, the skyline was different. Power lines, cell towers, billboards, and store signs—they were all gone or twisted beyond recognition. The trees were stripped bare or missing. It was like a giant had come through with a chainsaw and cut everything away.
And even if we found a working vehicle there was nowhere to go. The roads were impassable and the tires would be flat in no time.
“Can we stay outside?” Sam whined.
I felt terrible keeping them cooped up inside, but it wasn’t safe outside. “Not yet.”
She pouted for a minute, then returned to the pallet Zoe had constructed from our blankets to read to her sister.
I turned to Zoe. “Can you watch them for a minute? I’m going to listen to the announcement.”
She shooed me away.
I hadn’t realized how many people had wound up inside the mall with us until we tried to gather together for the announcement from the National Guardsmen. There had to be a thousand of us.
“We’re clearing the roads first, then we’ll be evacuating you all in groups of sixty to a shelter outside the flood zone,” the man in charge bellowed.
So they were still expecting storm surge flooding.
“What do we know about causalities?” An older woman asked.
“We don’t have that information yet, unfortunately. But I can tell you this. You all went through the worst of it.”
I would give anything to have some sort of clue where Jake was.
“Not to sound cliché,” the man continued, “but, we’d like to evacuate mothers and children, along with senior citizens, and anyone with a serious medical condition, first.”
There was some good-natured chuckling from the group and a few jokes about this being the Titanic. I’d have laughed if I didn’t know how much danger we were still in. Fortunately most of these people seemed clueless.
An hour later the first trucks and buses arrived. By then the majority of the crowd had moved outside to get fresh air. They were the ones who wouldn’t be evacuating for a few more hours. Those of us who were at the top of the list, had formed groups inside.
We were in the third group and the girls were completely restless, so I’d started inventing games and tasks for them to complete that didn’t take them very far from me.
“Go run a lap to the water fountain and back.”
“Can I have a sip?” Sam asked.
“No. I doubt they work right now and I don’t think that water is safe even if it does.”
She shrugged and took off with her sister.
“Where do you think they’re taking us?” Zoe asked, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.
“As long as there’s space for the kids to move without getting hurt, bottled water, and a way to use a phone, I don’t care if they ship us halfway to Miami.”
“You don’t think they will, do you?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea how much this storm tore up. It’s weird being completely out of touch with everything.” I would give just about anything for a news report with radar and video. Anything that would give me a clue as to exactly what we’d just lived through and what we should expect when we finally left.
“It’s so weird being unplugged like this. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have a phone to check.”
No weather reports, text messages, or news. Nothing. There was no service of any kind, so I’d turned my phone off to save the battery. “They’ll erect some temporary cell towers soon, but the crews all have to have time to move in and work.”
“Is that where Jake is? With the crews coming in to help?”
Instinctively I reached up and rubbed the ache in my chest. “Most likely. They have two disaster teams that support the county.”
“He’s fine then. No need to worry.”
But what Zoe didn’t understand was that I wasn’t worried about Jake’s safety—I mean, I was. I totally was. But I was also almost positive he’d found a safe spot to ride out the storm. It wasn’t his safety that was the problem.
It was ours.
If Jake didn’t know for sure that the girls and I had made it out of town, he’d move heaven and earth to find us. So no, I wasn’t worried about whether or not my husband was alive and well—I was worried that he’d lose his mind trying to find us.
“Next group!” a very nice young man yelled. We shuffled forward in our loose line. Two Suburban SUV’s and a school bus were our ticket out of town when they made the return trip back for us. At this rate it would take all day to empty the mall. Maybe they didn’t expect the flooding to be so bad after all.
“I can’t wait to find out if the house made it,” I whispered to Zoe. The girls were all the way over at the fountain, but I wasn’t about to take any chances. I didn’t think it had occurred to them the reason we left was because the house wouldn’t be there when we got back.
She bit her lip. “Where will you live? Will you rebuild?”
I held up my hands. “No idea. Not even a clue at this point.”
I’d never seriously thought about living anywhere else, but if it were bad enough, we might not be able to live on the island. At least not while it was being rebuilt. What if the bridge had been damaged? Would we even be able to get onto the island?
For a split second I let myself imagine all the possibilities. We could sell everything and move to a tropical island the way Jake had always dreamed. Or we could buy a cabin in the mountains. Move to Europe. A beach condo… the possibilities were endless. And pointless.
Until my family was all back in one spot together things like houses were silly.
“I think my parents had enough time to get to Jennie’s so at least there’s that.”
The bus pulled away and the girls sprinted back into line. We waited and waited for the bus to return, so I sent the girls on a scavenger hunt. “Look for all the red things you can find. Count as many as you can and report back to Miss Zoe and me. Are you ready?”
Two adorable bobbing heads.
“On your mark, get set, go!”
And once again they were off.
Just as the south wing of the mall collapsed.
21
JAKE
Jake’s Journal
When I was overseas I used to make up stories about Eve. I had no clue what was going on her life so I imagined what it must look like. I’d come up with three versions that I played over and over. In one she was married and five kids. He was a banker and she stayed home. In another she was married and had two kids. He was a lawyer and they lived in a high-rise that looked over the bay. It was all very urban. In the third scenario she was buried in her work and single. The third scenario was the real one and in my heart I think I always knew that was what she was doing with her life, but I rarely dwelled on it. It revealed what I really wanted and that hurt too much.
“Roger that.” The walkie crackled in my hand. I was buried up to my ass in requests and I was doing my best to send my guys to the ones that were most critical, but all I really wanted was a straight answer on where my family was.
So far no one knew for sure. I pulled a few strings and managed to get ahold of Andrew. The last they knew of Eve and the girls was that they were stuck in traffic in downtown around the time they started evacuating everyone on that side of the interstate into the mall. Since I had nothing else to go on, I was starting there.
“So they’re evacuating the mall to the high school?”
“That’s correct. I’ve put their names at the top of the list. If they arrive there you’ll be the first to know.”
Fat chance. It was chaos. Absolute chaos. Hurricane Claudia had dealt a deathblow to Tampa. Not only was it a category five hurricane when it made landfall, but it had stalled out for over an hour…pretty much right over their house. It was either a good thing because the house sat inside the calm winds at the center, or the worst thing ever because it went through the very nastiest wind the storm had to offer.
The really bad news was that it meant the mall where my family was hiding—most likely anyway—had been taking the shearing side of the storm for hours. I was amazed the mall was still standing. The neighborhoods around it certainly weren’t.
I really didn’t want to think about what was happening. I really, really didn’t want to think about what was still coming. No one could give me a straight answer on the storm surge. The models said one thing, but what was actually happening on the ground was something different.
So either the storm surge wasn’t coming, or it was coming on slowly.
Which meant we needed to be ready either way.
“Chuck, take Ronnie and go help the Guard. They need someone good with structural engineering and you’re the best.”
“No I’m not, but I’ll accept your flattery because I know you’re having a shit day.”
I stared at him.
“And I’ll let you know what we find when we get down there.”
“How?” I laughed.
“I’m with the important people. We’ll get you a message.”
I really doubted it, but hey, why not accept it? They were trying. They were all trying.
“Good luck,” I murmured as he left.
The one bright spot in all of this was that the factory was currently undamaged. Unless we took flooding from the storm surge we were good. Just some cosmetic damage to the outside of the building. It had been a long windy night, but nothing like the winds that had sat to the south of us.
An hour later I got that call Chuck had promised, but it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “What is it?”
I could practically feel him cringing through the satellite phone. “We’ve just been diverted to that mall you think Eve and the girls are at.”
My hand tightened around the phone as a dozen worst case scenarios flashed through my mind. A primal urge to run directly to that mall—over all the debris and chaos—suddenly ripped through me. “What is it?”
“The roof just collapsed. They’re sending us in to assess.”
And just like that, I lost all feeling in my body. I even think my heart stopped beating. “But they were evacuating. Maybe they already left?”
Chuck was quiet again. “I’ll let you know when I know. In the meantime sit tight, we’re sending a truck for you.”
I ended the call, set the phone down carefully, then punched a hole in the drywall.
IT WAS HARD NOT to think about my life as I was transported to the mall. I was in another plane of existence, one where I had zero power to control the inevitable. It did strange things to my mind.
I dealt with the shit from my childhood in the best ways that I could. I compartmentalized the trauma and cut ties to my past. It wasn’t gone. I didn’t pretend it didn’t happen. When Eve had a question, I answered it. When the girls wanted to know if I’d done something as a kid, I answered as honestly as I could, No sweetie. Daddy didn’t celebrate Christmas. So it’s extra special to see you open your presents.
I wanted them to understand that life wasn’t perfect. I want them to know me, not a fantasy version of me. Eve didn’t like when I said that—she thinks the man I am now is perfect and fantastic and all those wonderful things you want your wife and children to think about you. It was a difference of opinion on terminology, not fact. So we just agreed to disagree about my vocabulary choices.
But I never intentionally sat around thinking about the past. There was no use in it. Unfortunately my mind didn’t agree that afternoon. The ride to the mall dredged up ancient feelings and despite the fact that there were no similarities between an abusive childhood and a natural disaster the result was the same.
I had no fucking control over what happened next.
“It’s going to be fine,” Greg said, but his eyes didn’t lie the way his words did.
“Please don’t fill the air space just because it’s quiet.”
Greg held onto the handle by the window and shook his head. “I’m not filling air space. I’m saying what I know has to be true. There isn’t another option, so that’s what we’re going with.” Then he turned to look me in the eye. “Plus you look like shit and you’re thinking really hard. Think out loud.”
“I should have run home the minute I saw the storm was turning.”
Greg frowned because yeah, there was no easy comeback for that. I silently dared him to find one.
“You wouldn’t have made it and you wouldn’t be here right now getting a free pass to the frontline.”
Well shit. He had a brilliant point. I took a deep breath and did my best to erase the guilt from my mind, but my hand twitched against my thigh. Every molecule of my being was screaming for the truck to drive faster, to put me in the same zip code as my family.
“I feel…small,” I murmured.
He nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“Like when my dad used to lock me in the bathroom.”
Understanding flashed in his eyes. “You can open this door.”
The helplessness I felt crushing in on me
pressed harder against my chest, making it difficult to breathe. Those days locked in the bathroom were like solitary confinement. There was no sense in trying to break out—my dad would have just beaten the shit out of me. All I could do was sit and make up stories in my head, drink water, and piss. Sitting in this truck felt like that. All I could do was sit and make up worst-case scenarios.
Except that when we got to the mall I could do something about what we found there.
The radio crackled to life from the front console.
The driver flicked a nervous glance back toward me. “You okay to hear this?”
I nodded. “I’d like to see you try and stop me.”
He shook his head and picked up the radio. “Go ahead.”
“We need engineering assistance at the northwest corner.”
“Roger that. Northwest corner.”
“Triage is being staged nearby. Can you let your passengers know?”
The driver slid me another glance. “Roger that.”
Triage meant survivors. It also meant Chuck had given them a green light for pulling people out. Except that they’d asked for our assistance and I didn’t know what the hell that was code for.
“Good,” the voice on the other end of the radio said. “Because we’re running out of time and we need everyone at the ready.”
22
EVE
It was cold and it was dark. I was painfully aware that we were in serious trouble but I had no solution. I couldn’t see anything. The darkness was so overwhelming it hurt. I couldn’t even tell if my eyes were open or closed.
“Momma?” Sam whispered. The edge in her voice…well, let’s just say it hurt to hear. Okay, it didn’t just hurt. It sliced a crack right through my heart and into my soul. It would leave a scar there that I’d probably always carry for the rest of my days.
“Yes baby?”
“I can’t see anything.”
“Neither can anyone,” I muttered.
“I hate the dark!” Max wailed. It set the baby beside us off again. And that wailing? It was bone chilling.
