The Seacroft: a love story (Paines Creek Beach Book 2)

by Lazar, Aaron Paul

Eileen patted her shoulder. “I’ve got a better way. Mirella? Sit down, honey. No. Sit backwards.” She guided the woman gently. “Now push up each step like you did when you were a little one. Remember?”

  Viv’s mother loosed a sudden sunny grin. “Yes. Of course I remember.” With legs shaking, she began to slowly push backwards up the stairs, hands beside her, face set in concentration. “I can do this.”

  “Yes, you can.” Vivian smiled through tears and turned to Eileen. “Thank you.”

  Eileen caught her hand and walked with her up the stairs after Mirella. “All in a day’s work, my dear. Now let’s get up to that attic. There’s access to the roof if we need it.”

  

  Cody headed for the garage, running through the eerily quiet morning. His head throbbed like hell, but he ignored it. He had to find Vivian.

  To the south, he spotted swelling black clouds. Below, toward the beach, he saw the water had crept not only to the high tide line, but at least fifty feet into the parking lot well above the sand. Paines Creek Beach had disappeared.

  He tore his gaze away from the ocean and back to the garage below his apartment. One of the doors was propped wide open. And his truck was gone.

  Crap! She’d taken his truck?

  Where would she go? What was she thinking?

  Probably thinking what a scuzzy bastard you are, his mind said. Probably wanted to get as far from you as she could.

  He shushed his brain’s torrent of unkind words and focused.

  Vivian had no family home anymore. She told him she sold the trailer to pay for some of the medical bills. She had no family left, except her mother.

  Her mother. In the Shady Pines nursing home. That’s it.

  Without hesitation, he grabbed the keys for the Land Rover. With its high undercarriage and four-wheel drive, it would be his best bet. Cody maneuvered the car sideways into the spot where his truck had been parked, then sped out of the door Viv had already opened, turning north on the main road.

  Approaching Blueberry Hill, he hesitated. Would Finn, Libby, and the girls be safe up there, high above the rest of the homes on the shoreline? The higher altitude had always given it an advantage in storms, but still… He needed to check on them.

  And wait. What if Viv had gone there for shelter?

  Downshifting the Land Rover, he headed for the entrance to the blueberry farm. At the curve at the top of the winding driveway, he braked to a sudden stop. The massive black walnut that had shaded the barn for thirty years had toppled across the road, blocking all access to vehicles.

  He parked the car and scrambled through the branches at the far end, making his way toward the house.

  Finn had nailed plywood across the lower level of windows, so no one saw him through the covered windows. He had to beat on the door for several minutes before it cautiously cracked open.

  “Cody?” Libby stood in the dark, gesturing to him to come inside with her mini flashlight. “What are you doing out in this? And be quiet. The girls are still sleeping.”

  Cody slid inside. “Are you okay?”

  “We’re doing okay,” Libby said. “I can’t reach my father on the cell or land line, but it’s probably ‘cause the wires are down. But I’m sure he’s fine. He’s ridden out his share of hurricanes. Finn’s in the barn, feeding the horses.”

  “Good,” he said. “Did Vivian come here?” He realized that he sounded completely freaked out.

  “What? When?” Libby frowned. “We haven’t seen her, Cody.”

  “Oh.” Cody shifted in place, listening to the winds picking up and the rain pelting the windows. “I’m looking for her. She left The Seacroft last night.”

  “In the middle of the hurricane?” Libby asked. “Why, for goodness sakes?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I hope she’s okay,” Libby whispered, glancing toward the outside walls where the wind battered the siding. “Oh, God. Here it comes again.”

  “Yeah,” he said, ducking toward the door. “I’ll come back later and help you cut up that tree. But for now, I’ve gotta find her.”

  Libby caught his sleeve. “Be careful out there. They say it’s a killer storm, that nobody should be out in this.”

  Cody grimaced. “Yeah, including Viv.” He hugged her. “I’ll be careful.”

  Zipping up Mr. P’s slicker, he pulled up his hood and headed out into the rain that sluiced down from the sky.

  

  The men and women of Shady Pines huddled in small groups in the attic, watching as Eileen and Vivian struggled with the window leading out to the flat-topped roof.

  They finally slid it open a few inches, but the wind and rain that buffeted into the room forced them to shut it quickly.

  “Well, we’re not going out there yet, anyway.” Eileen wiped the perspiration from her brow and turned with a smile to the young aides who stood watching. “Okay. So, let’s see what supplies we have up here. We have canned rations we keep up here for emergencies, thank God. I’m certain we’ll have a decent meal, although it might not be a hot one.” She nervously skittered to the stairway, peeking down to see where the water level had settled. “Good. It seems to be slowing down. Maybe we won’t have to go out there for a while.”

  “Will they rescue us with helicopters?” one of the elderly men asked. “Like in the movies?”

  Eileen chuckled. “Maybe so, Edward. Or maybe we’ll be picked up by boats, eh?”

  Vivian helped her mother shuffle toward a back wall near the food cartons and blankets. She piled up a few blankets and patted one for her mother to sit on. “There you go.” Sitting close to her, Viv slipped a tentative arm around her shoulders. To her relief, the frail woman didn’t pull away.

  Mirella gave her a wobbly smile. “Thank you, Vivian.”

  Viv’s heart melted and she felt the happiest she had in days. “Mom? You remember me?”

  “Of course I do, sweetie. You’re my sweet princess. Princess Vivian.”

  Tears of joy ran down Viv’s cheeks. She knew it was temporary, this state wouldn’t last. But she’d enjoy every second of it while she could. “Yes, Mom. That’s me.”

  “Where’s Martin?” she asked, looking around nervously.

  Vivian’s stomach clenched. Poor Martin, if only he’d been alive to enjoy this sweet flitting memory. “He couldn’t come today, Mom. He’s um… he’s working.”

  Mirella nodded. “Of course. Well, we’ll see him later, won’t we?”

  “Sure we will.” In Heaven, she thought. “But now, let’s try to get some rest, okay?”

  “Okay, honey. Why don’t you rest your head on my shoulder?”

  With deep gratitude, Viv did as her mother suggested. The love and closeness she’d been missing for years felt like a warm blanket, and to her own surprise, she began to nod off.

  Chapter 31

  At the bottom of the hill, Cody switched on the news station before turning toward the Shady Pines nursing home. So far, he hadn’t seen his truck or Vivian, so he figured there was a chance she’d already made it to her mother’s side. Hurricane Delilah was still raging, and the weatherman had forecast another six to twelve hours of nasty weather before it was supposed to blow farther up the coast.

  The newscaster announced emergency situations in serious tones, and requests for help were relayed every few minutes. He became a messenger to report casualties to the authorities whose telephone lines were either down or jammed. Cody listened for a while, and perked up when he heard of severe flooding in the little valley where Shady Pines was nestled.

  “The much-feared flooding of the Shady Pines Valley has already begun, stranding over sixty residents and staff at the nursing home. The police ask all personnel to stay calm and seek high ground.”

  The violent wind blew the Land Rover sideways in a sudden gust, pushing him halfway into a ditch. He downshifted into first and drove back onto the road. Overhead, a telephone pole swayed, and he accelerated beneath it just in
time to avoid being crushed. The sparking wires danced in the rain behind him.

  He swiped at the perspiration popping on his forehead. “Close one.”

  Pushing forward in the storm, straining to see the road, he made slow progress, careening around bouncing debris and crawling around downed trees.

  Thank God for four-wheel drive.

  Ahead of him, a river of water gushed across the road.

  “Crap.” He squinted through the windshield. “I wonder how deep it is?”

  Slowly, he rolled toward it, growing more cautious when he noticed the churning water. It looked deep. Very deep.

  The Range Rover had a high undercarriage, and was a tough little beast. Saying a prayer, he pushed forward.

  When he was halfway through the stream, the road gave way, breaking apart and falling ten feet into a whipping whirlpool of water. Miraculously, the car remained upright, but it spun around and was towed swiftly backwards through the stream. He held his breath until the car stopped, snagged on a downed tree, then slowly urged it up and out onto a bank littered with boats. He couldn’t believe it hadn’t stalled out.

  The bizarre scene seemed like something out of Hollywood. How could these vessels have been placed so perfectly along the shore in this remote area? It was as if some giant had gently picked them up and set them down on the sand. Sure, some were damaged, but others seemed completely intact. The crazy part was, he didn’t know how he’d get his car past them. Dense trees covered one side of the beach, and multiple boats filled the other. There was no way out.

  He could get back in the stream and hope he’d land ashore somewhere else, but pretty soon he’d be right out in the bay in the deep water.

  Too risky.

  He hopped out and examined the vessels one by one. A giant trawler, two sailboats, several cabin cruisers, and multiple smaller boats crowded the shore in various shapes of disrepair. Overturned by the back of the group was a metal fishing boat with its motor still attached.

  Could it work?

  He flipped it over, cocked the motor out of the way, and dragged it to the overflowing river. If he could get it started, if he could fight the direction of the tide, maybe he could make it in through the back door, so to speak, of the nursing home. He was pretty sure this stream meandered over that way, because he’d memorized most of the waterways as a boy when he used to take his dingy around the backwoods.

  It was worth a try.

  He checked the gas—nearly full tank—and switched on the motor, then yanked the cord. He’d kept the bow of the boat up on shore and the stern in a pocket of water behind a sheltering boulder. If he could just get the thing started, maybe he could make his way over flooded land through the woods and stream.

  It coughed.

  He tried again.

  It sputtered, stalled, and then sputtered again.

  One more try.

  Cody pulled the cord so hard it nearly broke, and the thing roared to life. With the backpack securely strapped to his body, he nudged the boat into the gushing river and held on.

  Immediately, he was swept away, spinning in dizzying circles. But when he reached a wider, calmer section of the flooded stream, he turned the bow upstream and made painful but slow progress against the flow.

  He chugged up to the road and when he reached the broken section, he pulled over, got out, and dragged the boat over the asphalt hill and to the other side of the road, where the river seemed a little less swollen and violent. He continued upstream into the woods on the other side.

  “Hot damn,” he said, decidedly pleased with himself. Now, if he could just avoid any more snags, he might just make it.

  

  Vivian woke with a start, no longer resting against her mother’s soft shoulder. She rubbed her sore neck, glancing around the attic. “Mom?”

  Vague shapes of patients spread out on blankets and huddled against the walls.

  “Eileen?” she whispered.

  No response.

  The winds still shrieked but seemed somehow less aggressive now.

  Standing on shaky legs, she walked toward the window. The rain was definitely letting up, and in the distance, she swore the sky looked brighter, less ominous.

  A giant yawning groan came from the floorboards beneath her, followed by a slight tremor in the structure. She reached for the wall to hang on, then glanced around feverishly for her mother.

  “Mom? Mirella?” Uncaring now if she woke the patients, she walked between the bodies. “Mirella Wood? Are you here?”

  Eileen rose from a corner. “Did you feel that?”

  “God, yes,” Vivian said. “I think the building’s going down.”

  She heard more movement from below.

  “What’s happening?” someone shouted.

  “Everyone stay quiet,” Eileen said firmly. “We’re going to evacuate to the roof now.”

  As if Mother Nature snuffed out the storm with her sudden benevolence, the winds ceased and all was quiet. The rain changed to a drizzle outside, then pattered to a complete stop. Shafts of sunlight instantly shone through the window, like a guardian angel seeking those she needed to protect.

  “Where’s my mother?” Vivian said. “I don’t see her.”

  Eileen shook her head. “I don’t know, hon. Let’s get this window open again. Once I get these people out on the roof, I’ll help you find her. They’ll be by to rescue us soon, and if they see us out in the open they’ll be more likely to send in a helicopter or some rescue boats.”

  Vivian and Eileen struggled again with the sticky window; together they pushed it up high enough for escape to the roof.

  “There you go,” she huffed. “I’m going to look for my mother.”

  “Be careful, sweetie,” Eileen said. “Something’s definitely happening to this place.” She braced herself again when another tremor twisted through the structure.

  With the sun shining through the windows now, she didn’t need a flashlight to see. And it was clear that none of the residents in the attic were her mother.

  “Mom?” she called, walking back to the stairway. “Mirella?” Where could she have gone? And why?

  Eileen and the aides began moving the residents out to the roof. Vivian glanced back at Eileen and gave a grim smile. “I’ll be back with my mother to join you as soon as I find her.”

  Chapter 32

  By the time Cody had passed under two bridges and through several acres of flooded fields, the sun came out.

  Just like that.

  The howling winds abated, the rain stopped, and here he was, casting a shadow over the water that rippled around the little boat he’d appropriated for his rescue mission.

  He relaxed and unzipped his slicker.

  Could this be the end of the storm? For real? He hoped there was no such thing as a “double eye” of the storm. He’d never heard of such a thing, anyway. He squinted in the now bright sun and headed in the general direction of the nursing home, running the boat around obstructions in his way. A floating wooden cupola with an attached eagle-shaped weather vane nudged the side of his craft. He steered around a red plastic toddler’s slide, and then had to veer sharply around a floating golf cart.

  It seemed the whole world had been picked up and dumped in his path.

  In the distance, he spotted a dozen rectangular boxes floating in the river. With dawning horror, he realized they were coffins, somehow unearthed from their graves up on the nearby hill.

  He zigged and zagged around the mortal remains of God-knows-who, and chugged up the river, sweating now. He shrugged out of his backpack and slicker, then put the pack on again in case he got swamped.

  Former fields had turned to ponds, and he put-putted across them as if he were on a surreal Sunday boat ride. But inside, his stomach churned with worry for Vivian and her mother, and all the others in the nursing home.

  In twenty minutes, he’d crossed through the fields and woods behind the Shady Pines Valley, and finally he came out into the
open where the sea used to meet the shore. There, in the distance, was his truck, wrapped around the base of a tall pine that still stood in the middle of the “new sea” whose surface glinted in the sunlight.

  Cody felt his insides twist with fear.

  Was Vivian inside?

  He steered toward the poor old truck and tethered the bow of his boat to the pine tree, maneuvering through a current to finally get the craft parallel to the truck so he could peer inside.

  Nobody was in there.

  Did that mean she’d been washed away? Had damned Delilah killed her?

  His breathing turned shallow and he felt his soul harden. Aloud, as if to convince himself, he said, “Maybe she parked it and it washed away after she went inside.”

  That had to be it. Vivian couldn’t be dead.

  In the distant clear sky, a legion of rescue helicopters appeared to rise as one from the horizon. Headed for the nursing home, they grew larger and noisier, and when they were overhead, one lowered and came close to him.

  A man in an orange vest and goggles yelled to him. “You okay?”

  He gave a thumbs up and pointed to the nursing home, whose upper level was now visible to him, protruding from the water. He saw a crowd milling on the roof, with arms waving and he heard distant cries for help. “I’m heading to Shady Pines to check on a friend,” he shouted.

  The man nodded. “We’re on our way there now. Maybe you can help. Meet you over there.”

  Cody gave a wave and increased the throttle on his motor, speeding toward the practically submerged building.

  

  “Mom?” Viv cried, opening the door to the attic stairs. “Are you down there?”

  She realized her mother might be back in the state where she didn’t know she was a mom, so she decided to try her given name again.

  “Mirella? Mirella Wood?”

  From below, she heard the sound of weeping.

  “Thank God.” She hurried down the stairs and to the flooded landing below. “Mirella? Where are you?”

  A weak voice came through the wall. “In here.”

  Vivian flew around a corner, through a door, and into a bathroom. Her mother sat on the floor in a foot of water.