“We totally forgot to eat,” Sara said, putting her hand to her mouth and looking back at the Gardiners with wide eyes. “How rude of me.”
“No problem, Sara.” Dion grinned Sara’s embarrassment away. “We were totally getting into it. I think moving this bridge is one of the craziest things I’ve ever done.”
“We couldn’t have done it without your help.” Sara said, folding her hands gratefully. “So, thank you. And, yes, let’s get inside and chow down.”
“Sounds good to me,” Natasha said as the Gardiners walked arm in arm toward the house, with Todd and Sara right behind them.
“We should let Tash do the cooking,” Dion said, turning Natasha around so they were walking backwards. “If you’ve got eggs, she’ll make us some amazing omelets.”
“Mmm.” Sara’s stomach rumbled at the thought of a delicious, cheese-filled omelet with pieces of ham and pepper. “I’ve got eggs, cheese, and all the fixings. My stove is at your command.”
Chapter 10
Jake, Boston, Massachusetts | 9:12 a.m., Wednesday
Jake snorted and rolled over on the couch to face whomever was shaking him. At first, he thought it was Marcy, before the little hands on his shoulder told him it was one of the kids. He blinked once as his eyes adjusted to the hazy morning light that peeked through the gaps in the window coverings. It was Alice with a look of fear on her face.
“Alice, what is it?” Jake sat up as alarm bells started ringing in his head.
“I heard a noise,” she replied in a harsh whisper.
Jake reached back and pulled the Ruger from below the pillow, eyes scanning the room for any sign of intruders.
“No, not in here,” Alice said, glancing down at the gun. “Outside. Something outside our window.”
“Was it a person?” Jake asked, standing up.
Alice only shrugged and gulped.
Jake pushed the little girl behind him and went into the kids’ room. Timothy was still sleeping on the bed, and the window was still covered.
“Did it come from below? Someone whispering or something?”
“No, not whispers,” Alice said. “It sounded like something falling. Something big.”
Confused, Jake backed out of the kids’ room and returned to the living room, taking one more look around before he went to the kitchen and stood by the back door. He pulled a piece of the covering off and looked out into the rain. Nothing moved on the back porch, so he unhooked the string of cans they’d put up as a makeshift alarm, moved the trash can aside, and opened the door.
He waited with the door open, listening for boots on the stairs or whispers of people nearby, but all he could hear was the rain. He stepped onto the porch and looked down to see the yard was still flooded with water, although it hadn’t risen any higher. It looked somehow disturbed, as if someone had dropped a huge rock nearby and the waves were just now dissipating.
“I really did hear something,” Alice said from where she stood in the doorway.
“I believe you.” Jake shot her a calming smile as light drops of rain pelted his head. “Can you mimic what it sounded like?”
Alice made a funny shape with her lips and then created a noise that sounded like a snake slithering along before her voice turned gravely and ended with a crashing sound. When Jake expressed confusion, the little girl did it again, this time twisting her face even more.
Jake’s eyes widened as the sound coming out of her mouth suddenly took on gigantic proportions, becoming real as the entire deck started to shake. He turned and looked wildly around the backyards for the source of the noise. His eyes traced up to the corner house Jake had originally scoped out for them to occupy. The house wasn’t there.
Jake blinked once and rubbed his eyes, then he realized the building was there, just not standing. It had collapsed into a pile of siding and wood.
“It must have been an earthquake,” Jake whispered to himself, “but that would have woken me up.” Then he homed in on the slithering, sliding sound and jerked his eyes toward the house immediately next door to them. The bricks were shaking and falling loose from the walls as the entire house shifted toward them.
Panic shot through his system, just as the shifting home stopped moving.
“Get the bug-out packs,” Jake said, shoving Alice inside. Then he rushed across the living room shouting for Marcy to wake up, taking a right into the kids’ bedroom to snatch up Timothy from where he was just waking.
He met a bleary-eyed Marcy in the hall, but she didn’t speak a word in question. They exchanged a look and then went into the kitchen to see that Alice had their packs ready and sitting by the door. Their shoes were lined up next to their packs, and the little girl was putting her second shoe on. Marcy and Jake followed suit, while Timothy cried like mad as he struggled to understand what was happening. Marcy jumped into action and helped the boy get his shoes on.
They’d already made a rule to sleep in jeans and long-sleeved shirts in case they needed to flee, so they wouldn’t be caught out in the elements in bare skin, and while it had been uncomfortable to sleep in, Jake was thankful they’d thought that far ahead.
“Let’s go, let’s go,” Jake shouted as he slid the makeshift backpack onto his shoulders. He reached to help Marcy tie Timothy’s shoes then drew back when he realized there was nothing he could do.
“I’m going, I’m going,” Marcy said urgently, getting the last shoe tied and standing the boy up as he began wailing. “Done.”
Jake took Alice’s hand and pulled her onto the porch. The rumblings had been growing over the agonizingly slow minutes, and Jake was thankful to be standing out in the rain for once, because the apartment seemed like a death trap. Without a moment’s hesitation, he jerked Alice into his arms and began flying down the stairs with Marcy and Timothy right behind them.
A crunching, twisting sound reached Jake’s ears, and he looked up to see the next-door house slide dangerously to the side and smash into their building in a shower of bricks and mortar. The porch shook, and Jake’s teeth rattled in his head. He slipped on the wet wood and went down, but he grabbed the rail and quickly got back to his feet, glancing up at Marcy as their building began to shudder.
Marcy had fallen against the rail when the building had collided with theirs, but she remained on her feet despite the shaking wooden deck. Jake turned and went down more cautiously, keeping one hand on the rail and one arm around Alice, who was surprisingly calm as she gripped his neck with both arms.
Another shudder and jerk hit them when they reached the second-floor landing, and Jake gripped the rail with all his strength before he realized the entire deck was falling to pieces. The rail ripped out of his hand, and he turned and leapt down the next five steps to land with a thud, spinning and leaping down the final flight to the first-floor deck in a splash of water. He grabbed Alice up and tossed her over the rail before he turned to see Marcy just coming around to descend the final flight.
A piece of wood cut the air between them and clattered to the steps. Marcy stopped, waited, and then leapt down the last few to land with a pained grunt next to Jake. He took Timothy, tossed the boy after his sister, and helped Marcy get over the rail.
Something heavy hit Jake’s shoulder, and the thought of being buried beneath a pile of wood and nails spurred his body into a frantic move. He dove onto the top of the rail where he spun on his stomach and slid off to the other side. Gasping as the cold water shocked his skin, he snatched up a soaking wet kid under each arm and kicked through the water like a running back going for the goal line.
The house gave a shudder, timbers creaking and wailing like a monster watching its prey escape. There was a long, drawn-out collapse and then a wave of water hit Jake in the back, nearly sending him face first into the brine, but he stayed on his feet, eyes pinned forward.
“Jake, stop!” Marcy called out. “Hey, stop!”
Jake went a few more feet before he pulled up, panting in the waist-high water, the tops of his l
egs burning with the effort. He slowly turned to see that Marcy had stopped some ten yards back and was looking at the house. Like the others, it was just a pile of rubble, the dust of the collapse already being devoured by the rain.
Marcy limped up to Jake slowly, holding the rest of their backpacks slung on her arms.
“We could have been trapped in that.” Jake shook his head and sighed heavily.
“How did you know it was falling?” Marcy asked. “Do you have spidey senses or something?”
“This little one,” Jake said, nodding to Alice. “She heard the first building collapse and woke me up.”
“You’re welcome.” Alice tried to sound smart, but there was a flat sadness in her voice. “You can set me down now.”
“Sorry,” Jake said, letting the girl slide down into the water which almost reached her chest. Then, realizing how deep the water actually was, Alice clung to Jake’s arm as she looked at the ruins of her home.
The expression on the girl’s face touched Jake’s racing heart, and he put his arm around her shoulder, giving her a brief and comforting embrace before he gave Marcy a concerned look. “Let’s get out of here, huh?”
Marcy nodded and limped over, still favoring her wounded leg. “Get to higher ground?”
“Yeah,” Jake nodded in the affirmative. “Higher ground sounds good.”
They turned and stepped out of the side yard and into what Jake assumed was the street, but there was water as far as the eye could see, so he would have to guess where the streets were based on the position of ruined homes and hardness of the ground beneath his feet.
“Higher ground,” Jake murmured as he walked ahead.
Chapter 11
Sara, Gatlinburg, Tennessee | 2:17 p.m., Wednesday
Sara stood on the bridge and watched Dion and Natasha drive off in their Subaru. The car moved carefully down the hill, edging around that first steep bend until it disappeared out of sight. Sara stood there for a moment, smelling the wet wilderness of the forest around her. As hard as Mother Nature had been on them, Sara had never felt more alive.
Sara and her family had always taken hikes through the woods and appreciated the natural beauty of the world around them whenever they came to Pine Bluff, but she had an entirely new respect for nature after witnessing its awesome and destructive power firsthand.
With a deep sigh, Sara turned and marched down the gravel driveway to the house. She went up the front steps, took off her boots, and placed them on a towel inside. Todd was eating a sandwich at the kitchen table and using her laptop to stay abreast of the news.
“This is the last of the ham,” he said, removing one of his earphones as he waved the sandwich at her.
“Maybe your sister wanted a sandwich, too,” Sara said, narrowing her eyes at her son.
“We made a deal,” Todd said, defensively. “Zoe said I could finish the ham as long as she got the last brownie.”
Sara suppressed a smile. “Sounds like you’re both learning the art of bargaining. I can’t fault you for that. Still, your sister is going to be up all night if she eats two brownies before bed.”
“Setting meal times is above my pay grade,” Todd answered with a smug smile, going back to his browsing. “As the brother in the family.”
“Oh, you think you’re clever,” Sara said, coming over and clutching her son’s shoulders. “Just make the deal and walk away, with no consideration for the consequences. There’s going to be a little monster running around tonight.”
“I’ll be more careful next time, Mom,” Todd said, apologetically.
“Given how great a son you’ve been this week,” Sara said with a chuckle, “I’ll let it slide. Any news?”
“Not much,” Todd admitted, turning the volume up on the laptop. “I’ve checked the national and local news.”
Sara went over to the coffee pot, dumped the quarter inch of old coffee into the sink, and refilled the pot from the 5-gallon water jug Todd had brought up from the cellar earlier. She poured it into the brewer, filled the filter with fresh coffee, and turned the brewer on.
“There was a story about some problems at the Douglas Dam,” Todd said, “but they didn’t go into detail. Didn’t we go fishing there last year?”
“We did,” Sara replied. “We rented a boat and floated around Douglas Lake for the day. I think you caught three big fish, if I remember correctly.”
“I remember that. We cooked them for dinner that night.”
“Any new thoughts on Dion and Natasha?” Sara asked, turning and resting her back against the counter as the fresh aroma of roasted coffee beans drifted through the cabin.
“I think they’re pretty cool,” Todd said. “I think they proved themselves a lot today.”
“They definitely did,” Sara bit her lip. “We all did. I never would have thought we could get that bridge back onto its moorings. Not in a million years.”
“It does make you feel kind of invincible, huh?” Todd said with a smooth chuckle.
“It does. And I’m glad I made the trip down the mountain. The second cabin we went to, that guy wasn’t so nice.”
“He pulled a gun on you for no reason,” Todd said. “That’s the definition of not so nice.”
“I actually don’t blame him for that.” Sara turned as the brewer sputtered its last few drops into the pot and then poured herself half a cup. “You want some?”
“Sure. What do you mean you don’t blame him for that?”
“We could have been anyone,” Sara continued, pouring a cup of coffee for Todd as well. “The only problem I had with him was not putting the gun down once he saw we clearly meant him no harm. He’s a little unhinged, and that worries me. Unless they’re preppers like us, they won’t have a big food supply. I wonder what he’s going to do when he realizes where we are and sees that we’re up here all cozy on our mountain top.”
“Think we should set a watch? Like, guard duty?”
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.” Sara brought both cups of coffee over and set one down next to her laptop.
“Thanks, Mom. Want me to get up?”
“No, you can take the helm,” Sara said, patting his shoulder. “But, yeah, like guard duty. We’d probably go insane trying to keep watch with just you and me, so Dion and Natasha could really help us there. And they’re going to run out of food and water, anyway. Natasha said they’re down to their last few meals, and that’s mostly snack stuff and some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. So, maybe we invite them to stay at the cabin. It might only be until the flood waters go down.”
“Mutual benefit, then?” Todd raised his eyebrow. “We invite them to stay with us. We share our food, and they help us protect it?”
“That’s the idea,” Sara said. “But let’s chew on it for today.”
“Sounds good, Mom,” Todd said. “Want to hear some of the news?”
“Sure,” Sara said, and she took her coffee over to the back door and looked out through the glass at their deck and, beyond that, the wide Tennessee valley.
Todd turned up the volume on the tiny computer speakers, and the familiar voice of Cindy Shroke from WLMA filled the kitchen. It sounded windy where the reporter was, so Sara imagined her standing in front of a sea of white refugee tents.
“…beyond that, it’s anyone’s guess as to the full extent of the damage in Massachusetts. The seaboard from Boston to Martha’s Vineyard has been laid waste to, and the experts agree that we’re reaching a critical point, when any supplies left inside the city would have been consumed. And it’s been confirmed by the military that gangs and rogue citizens are hoarding food and robbing people at gunpoint in a spree of lawlessness.”
“That’s not good,” Todd said, flatly.
Sara had already heard from the Mike Report that there was looting going on inside the hardest-hit areas, and the mainstream media had already alluded to it, too. It was the first time she’d heard them come right out and confirm it.
“No, it isn’t
,” Sara agreed as a renewed sense of vulnerability took hold of her and made her stomach nauseous with worry over Jake. She took a deep breath to calm herself as she stared out into the rain. “But it doesn’t mean anything. The news gets it wrong, a lot. And we’re going to hear a lot of things over the next few days that—”
An explosion ripped through the laptop speakers, and Sara turned around to see Todd staring white-faced at the screen. Cindy Shroke’s panicked screams ripped through the speakers, causing the hairs on the back of Sara’s neck to stand up.
“You’ve got to see this, Mom,” Todd said, turning the computer toward her. “Something blew up.”
Sara was already rushing over, and she put her hand on the back of Todd’s chair and leaned closer to the laptop screen. Cindy Shroke had turned away from the camera and was pointing at a big orange explosion that still glowed red at the edge of the tent city of refugees. People were screaming and running past the camera as debris fell from the sky, and Cindy Shroke was trying to shout above the noise of the crowd.
“Unreal…massive explosion…police…figure out what happened…” Cindy’s words were barely audible over the terror-filled crowd, and for a moment Sara feared for the reporter’s life. Then Cindy turned around and walked toward the cameraman, pushing him back away from the chaos.
“We’re going to send you back to the studio until—” she started to say, but the newscast cut back to the main studio where a man sat at the anchor desk staring back at the camera with an expression of pure fear on his face. “This is, uh, Tom Bozio,” he said in a shaky voice. “We’re, uh… We’re going to cut to a commercial break while our producers make sure Cindy and her crew are safe. We’ll be right back, folks.”
Todd turned the volume down and looked at Sara with stark hope. “Do you think it was an accident? Could someone have done this?”
“I don’t know, son,” Sara said in a soft tone.
Weathering The Storm (Book 2): Surge Page 7
