“The alternate channel is twenty-one.”
“Got it,” Todd said with a serious expression. “And if I don’t hear from you in an hour, I’ll open your laptop and follow the instructions you wrote on a Post-it note to get in touch with a guy named Mike.”
“Yes,” Sara said. “He’s got people in the area. Now come here.”
Sara opened her arms and brought Todd in for a brief embrace, her rain poncho rustling with the movement. She quickly broke off, pulled up her hood, and descended the porch steps to walk across their gravel driveway without looking back.
Sara listened to the sounds of her boots on the wet gravel, hoping she wasn’t being a terrible mother for leaving her kids alone. There was a lot of uncertainty in the air, and the looming storm could be especially dangerous.
“That’s exactly why I’m going out,” Sara said, resolutely. “A smart mother would get to know her surroundings. A smart mother would learn as much as she could so that nothing would surprise her.”
But terrible thoughts continued to nag her. What if Zoe got a hold of the shotgun up on the bureau? What if Todd sprained his ankle goofing off?
“Don’t be silly,” she murmured to herself with a shake of her head. “Todd is a smart kid. He’s not going to mess anything up. “Now quit being a big baby and do what you set out to do.”
Sara lowered her head and tromped across the wooden bridge with confidence. In another twenty-five yards, she stood on Pine Bluff Road, basking in the fresh, intoxicating smell of the rain as she looked to her right, where the road circled down around a bend.
She started off down the hill with the trees leaning in on both sides and the road wet and dusted with debris. The mountainside on her left rose steeply, displaying striated rock formations where the water cut around the rocks or sprayed off the top of them. The runoff settled on the road or flowed across it, sloshing over her boots and down into the gully on her right. At times it seemed surreal, like she was walking across the side of a waterfall, but this was just nature doing its thing, storms breaking against the side of the mighty Smoky Mountains.
The van would have had a huge problem in this, Sara thought to herself, glad she opted to walk.
She’d worn her most water repellent boots, so she should have dry feet for this trip unless she waded into a creek. And she’d made a small modification to her rain poncho, cinching it around her waist so it didn’t blow up so easily.
Rounding the first bend, Sara saw the first three cabins sitting on the edge of the mountainside. They were nice to look at, prefabricated constructions with long posts holding up the back porches and, in some cases, the entire back of the cabin. Sara wondered if all this runoff would have an effect on the concrete moorings and potentially wash some of the cabins off the side of the hill. She supposed it was possible, and she bent her head to the right as she approached to see if any of them were leaning. They appeared to be fine, for now, so she went up the front porch steps of the first cabin to see if anyone was home.
No cars were parked out front, so she figured it must be empty. Nevertheless, she had to be sure. She put her face against the glass of the front door and peered inside. She could see straight into the front room and kitchen, and she didn’t see any of the usual signs of occupancy—shoes in the entryway, bread on the kitchen bar, or empty water and soft drink bottles left out by the kids.
Satisfied no one was home, Sara left the cabin and checked the other two with the same results. No one home, and nothing really worth taking. There might be some dishes inside, or possibly some food left in the refrigerator from the last occupants, but it wasn’t worth breaking into them to investigate. If they got desperate later, Sara would bust in and see if there was anything they could use.
Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that, Sara thought as she started down Pine Bluff Road on her way to the next set of cabins. The road wound to the right, and back to the left again. At the second curve sat another set of cabins overlooking the valley.
Sara slowed her walk as her eyes roamed across the cabins before settling on a maroon Subaru sitting in front of the middle cabin. Her pulse rate kicked up a notch, and a tickling at the back of her neck reminded her to be careful. Sara had no idea if the people inside were regular folks on vacation, or if they were more like Sara and Jake and carried weapons. She didn’t know if they were aware of what was happening in the news, or if they were blissfully ignorant. All of those things would affect how they received Sara.
Instead of checking the first cabin, Sara walked in the middle of the road, stopped in front of the middle cabin, and turned to face it. The blinds on the windows were down and closed, so she didn’t know if the people inside were keeping a lookout, and she didn’t want to surprise them by tromping up their steps. Most people came to the mountains to get away from other people, and no one expected neighbors to come knocking.
“Hello!” Sara called out in the friendliest tone she could muster, then she raised her hand and waved it. “Anyone inside? My name is Sara Walton. I, uh, come in peace.”
At first there was no movement from inside, then the blinds on a lower level window parted and a face peered back at her. Sara waved harder and smiled, then she remembered her hood was up, and the person looking out couldn’t possibly see her face. She reached up and lowered her hood, only slightly annoyed that her head was going to get wet so soon after setting out. But if the people inside saw a friendly face, maybe they’d be more willing to come out and talk.
Still smiling and waving, Sara took a step forward and then stopped, showing the person inside that she wanted to talk, but would respect their space. The blinds closed, leaving Sara standing there alone once more. A long moment of quiet followed until Sara became convinced that the people inside weren’t interested in a discussion. That was disheartening for many reasons. Sara wouldn’t know how many people were inside or how friendly they were. And they were close enough to Sara and the kids that they’d always be a threat as long as their intentions were a mystery. It meant that Sara would have to keep an eye on them.
Sara started to turn away and continue down the hill when the lock on the front door clicked and the door came open. She stopped in her tracks and turned, bending down and peering through the rain.
“My name is Sara Walton,” Sara repeated, “and we live…” Her words trailed off because she didn’t want to let them know exactly where their cabin was just yet. “I live on the mountain, too. In Pine Bluff.”
The door opened wider, and a man in a flannel shirt and brown vest stepped out onto the front porch. He was tall and thin with tight, dark curls of hair and a doubtful expression on his face. A woman stood behind him dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that said University of Cincinnati on it. She shared the man’s expression, remaining in the doorway with her hand on the doorknob.
“Pretty rainy out, huh?” Sara called out with a friendly smile, making sure to keep her hands in plain sight.
“Hello, Sara,” the man said in a conciliatory tone, his eyes still wary. “And, yes, it’s been raining like crazy. Do you have any idea when it’s supposed to stop? Our internet is out, and we don’t have any cell phone service, so we haven’t been able to catch the news.”
Sara’s smile faltered a little. “Unfortunately, it looks like another big storm will be hitting us in eight hours or so.”
“How do you know?” The man wore a perplexed expression that quickly turned hopeful. “Can you get on the internet?”
“I have a Sat Fi card.” Sara admitted, although she wasn’t sure if that was such a smart idea. Once people knew she was the only source of information on the mountain, she could become a target. “It’s not as fast as cable or my regular cell phone service, but it gets the job done.”
“That’s a satellite service, right?”
“Yes, it’s called Cosmic Link,” Sara said, then she chuckled and shook her head. “We subscribed a long time ago; I wasn’t sure if we’d set it for auto-renewal. Believe me, I was t
hankful when I found out we had.”
The woman standing in the doorway mumbled something low and ominous to the man, flashing her eyes at Sara as the man turned to listen to her.
“I’m not here to hurt you or ask for any favors,” Sara said quickly as she took a step back. “If that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Oh, it’s not that,” the man said, turning back to Sara with an apologetic smile. “She’s just saying she told me we should have signed up for Cosmic Link last year.”
“Smart lady.” Sara grinned, and she was pleased when the woman grinned back.
“I’m Dion,” the man said, gesturing back to the woman, “and this is my wife, Natasha. Dion and Natasha Gardiner.”
“Pleased to meet you, Gardiners,” Sara said with a wider grin.
“Same here,” Dion said, his expression settling into something like relief.
Natasha came to stand next to Dion and gave Sara a nod. “Nice to meet you, too.”
“You folks here vacationing?” Sara asked.
“That’s right,” Dion said. “We drove down from Cincinnati Thursday afternoon, and we were supposed to leave on Sunday. From what we saw of the roads, and what you said about the storm coming tonight, it doesn’t look like we’ll be leaving any time soon.”
“You’ve been to the bottom of Pine Bluff Road?”
“We drove down this morning,” Natasha said, “thinking we would head home, except the roads still look like rivers right now. Our Subaru can take some rough conditions, but it’s not a boat.” Her voice had a husky yet elegant note to it, while Dion had a very sharp Midwestern accent that matched what Sara knew about folks from Cincinnati.
“Smart decision coming back,” Sara agreed. “Did you get into town at all over the weekend?”
“We were in Gatlinburg all day Friday,” Natasha said, “then we drove around Pigeon Forge on Saturday, but that’s about it.”
“You say you live on the mountain?” Dion’s expression raised with hope. “We’d sure appreciate it if we could use your Sat Fi to get word to our people that we’re okay.”
“I might be able to help,” Sara said with an uncertain smile. She was still checking her feelings about the Gardiners. They seemed a little cautious, and that was a good thing under the current conditions. “Right now I’m on a bit of an errand to the bottom of the hill. Maybe I can swing by later.”
“I understand you wanting to be cautious about strangers,” Dion said with a mollifying gesture before he gave Natasha a good-natured glance. “You can’t possibly trust us until you get to know us.”
An awkward moment passed before Dion’s face brightened. “Hey, do you need a ride down? Pine Bluff Road is fine. It’s just down in the valley everything is flooded.”
“That’s okay,” Sara said. “I could have driven my van down, but these roads…” She let her words trail off as she looked down at the ground and kicked at the thin layer of water rolling over her feet. “I didn’t want to hydroplane off the side of the mountain.”
“We have the Subaru,” Dion gestured to the maroon vehicle. “It’s all-wheel drive. We didn’t have any problems getting down the hill earlier. Or back up. It’ll be a snap.”
Sara glanced over at the Subaru, which looked more rugged than the van. It still wouldn’t do much for them if they got into any real flooding.
“Well, okay,” Sara said reluctantly.
“Let me get my keys,” Dion said, looking enthusiastic.
“He’s a helpful guy,” Natasha said with an apologetic chuckle.
Sara smiled gratefully and then took her radio from her pocket, turned it on, and pressed the talk button, putting it close to her mouth. “Mom to Todd. Do you read me, Todd?”
There was a brief crackle of static before Todd’s monotone voice came over the radio loud and clear. “We read you, Mom. What’s your status?”
“Found some friendlies,” Sara said. “Hitching an all-wheel ride to the bottom of the road.”
“Roger that,” Todd replied. “Be safe, Mom.”
Chapter 3
Jake, Boston, Massachusetts | 7:42 a.m., Tuesday
Jake knocked hard on the third-floor apartment door as Marcy peered through the kitchen window.
“The doors are locked, and there’s no one inside,” she said. “So you know what that means?”
“Call a locksmith?”
“Very funny,” Marcy said, her words slurring with exhaustion. “No, we have to break in.”
“I know,” Jake confirmed. “I’m just trying to figure out the best way to do it. I’ve never broken into a house before.”
“We could break the glass,” Marcy said, tapping on the window.
“No, I’ll just do this,” Jake said, then he turned the doorknob and threw his shoulder against the door. The door separated from the frame a millimeter or so, but it didn’t bust open, so Jake tried again. He threw his shoulder against the door, and this time the frame made a cracking sound as the door separated by three or four millimeters. The third time Jake slammed his shoulder into the door, the frame snapped and the door flew open. Jake stumbled into a kitchen and slipped on the slick tile. He might have crashed to the floor if Marcy wasn’t right there to grab his arm and help keep him steady.
“Thanks. Somehow it always looks easier in the movies,” Jake mumbled as he instinctively reached for his AR-15, but then he remembered that the rifle wasn’t hanging from his shoulder any longer. It had been knocked off when he was tumbling around in the flood waters. Jake moved slowly and quietly, eyes searching the kitchen and adjoining living room for any signs of movement.
“Can you find us a light?” Jake asked in a whisper, although anyone inside the apartment would have already heard Jake breaking down their door.
“Yeah,” Marcy replied. “Give me a second.”
Jake kept an eye on the living room as Marcy went through the kitchen drawers carefully and quietly. The storm still raged outside, and the rain was building up in a small pool on the kitchen floor. Above it all, Jake could feel the wild beating of his heart.
Lightning struck again, lighting up the two rooms enough for Jake to see that there was no one there, so he quietly stepped over to the kitchen door and shut it, moving a trashcan over to hold it closed.
“Ah ha,” Marcy said in a weary whisper before a beam of light shot to the ceiling.
Jake looked over to see her leaning tiredly against the counter, holding a flashlight just as she turned the beam downward so that it shined into the living room. Stepping forward with his hands balled into fists, Jake watched as the beam of light raked across the room, chasing the shadows away. Once he was sure the room was clear, Jake motioned for Marcy to follow him over to another half-open door off the kitchen.
He listened for a moment and, hearing no sounds, held out his hand for the flashlight. Marcy set the flashlight in his hand and gripped his shoulder, leaning some of her weight on him. Jake angled the beam into the room, quickly ducking his head inside to get a look around before he pulled away.
“It’s a laundry room,” he whispered, turning and moving down the living room wall until he stood at the head of a small hallway that bisected the rest of the apartment.
He directed the light down the hall and saw a closed door at the end. There was one half-open door on the left side of the hall, and two more closed doors on the right.
“Take your pick,” Jake said with a jerk of his head down the hall. “Could be anyone in any of those rooms.”
“Closest one first,” Marcy said, clinging to Jake’s arm.
Jake nodded and moved to the first door on their right. He put his ear to the door but heard no sounds from inside. A bead of rain-sweat ran down his forehead and into his eyes, causing them to burn. He wiped his face with his hand, grabbed the doorknob, and started to turn it before he stopped. Barging into the room might be a good way to get himself shot or ambushed. Maybe there was a better approach.
He released the door handle and knocked s
oftly, raising the volume of his voice. “Whoever’s inside, we were just trying to get out of the storm. We don’t mean you any harm, and we’re not here to hurt anyone or steal from you. I’m going to come in now.”
He took the doorknob in hand, turned it, and pushed the door open while shining the flashlight inside. It was the empty bedroom of who Jake assumed was a teenage boy, walls covered in posters of rap groups and a small mixing console sitting on a table near the window. The room was fairly in order except for the closet, where a pile of clothes had been dragged out and tossed around.
“Clear,” Jake said, leaving the door open as he backed out of the room. “Looks like someone left in a hurry.”
The next door down, the single one on the left, was a master bedroom, possibly the mother and father’s. There was no one inside, but it had a king-sized bed with tousled covers and mismatched furniture spread around the room. There was a small bathroom off the room, and they’d check it for first aid supplies when they were done with the rest of the apartment.
They checked the rest of the rooms in the same manner, going from door to door until the entire apartment was clear. There was a bathroom off the hall and the room of a teenage girl at the end, tidy except for clothes strewn around the closet and chest of drawers.
“Looks like they bugged out,” Jake said as he and Marcy returned to the living room.
“I hope they made it,” Marcy said as she slumped over in exhaustion. “Remind me to send them a thank-you note for leaving us their apartment.”
“Temporarily commandeered,” Jake reminded her, stripping off his rain poncho and wet shirt as he walked over to the kitchen to see if they had any food. Marcy started to follow him, then he held up his hand. “I’ll make dinner. You go sit down and take a load off.”
“Aw, that’s sweet,” Marcy said with mock wistfulness before she limped over to the couch and collapsed on it. “Do you think that tornado will come this direction?”
“It looked like it was several miles off, but I’ll check on it in a minute.”
Weathering The Storm (Book 2): Surge Page 2
