Already, at Max’s direction, the girl has heaved dozens of items down for her: hunting knives, coils of rope, even some walking sticks that Max thought might make a decent weapon. But the distance is too far, and Sabine’s arm isn’t nearly strong enough. The knives plopped like rocks down into the water, but the sticks and the ropes bob along the surface, joining all the other merchandise that’s been liberated from the lower shelves. But anything of value, anything that might help her escape her predicament, remains tantalizingly out of reach. Max cups both hands to her mouth and hollers over the wind, “Just hang on for a minute.”
Once more she eyes the kayaks along the far wall and thinks of the guns. She could have the kid try to smash the glass of the display case and load up a rifle for her; probably she’s fired a weapon before. But the guns are on the first floor, and that means having Sabine wade in water that’d be way up past her belly, water where Ivory could be in seconds. That isn’t an option.
Exhausted, Max kneels down on the checkout counter. She’s trying to decide at what point to just make a break for the stairs. Would it be better to go slowly in hopes of not attracting Ivory’s attention, or just follow her instincts and run like hell?
A shiny aluminum packet bobs up to the edge of the checkout lane. Max picks it up and strains to read in the dark, but she’s able to make out “Beef Stroganoff Supreme.” It’s one of those ready-to-eat meals in a pouch. More out of curiosity than anything else, Max tears a corner and sniffs. The smell is meaty and pungent, and Max has a hard time imagining eating whatever’s inside, which looks wet and raw. With a flip of her wrist, she tosses it Frisbee-style out into the water, without aim or purpose. It sails over Ivory’s head and plunks down ten feet past him.
But the moment it enters the water, the gator stirs. He swishes his tail and slides over to investigate, and Max loses sight of him. She squints and locates the metal shine of the pouch, and she’s watching when Ivory’s jaw flashes open, then submerges. The pouch is gone, and so is Ivory.
“What was that?” Sabine shouts from above.
“I got an idea,” Max yells back. Searching the water around her, she’s able to gather a half dozen of the pouches: two Beef Stroganoff Supreme, two Swedish Meatball Madness, and two Hamburger Mac-and-Cheese Delight. Once she’s ready, she plans on ripping a tear in each one and throwing them through the open space where the ATV smashed through the front door, a gray box of slanted light. If Ivory chases the scent of meat, Max can make a break for the stairs, maybe even do a smash and grab as she bolts past the gun display. The only problem is that, now that she’s hatched this escape plan, she can’t locate Ivory. She looks up at Sabine. “Can you see him?”
Sabine leans over the railing and turns her head side to side. “It’s too dark. Only when he’s moving or right up on top.”
For a few minutes, both of them watch the water for some sign. The first floor is the size of a small grocery store. That gator could be anywhere, Max thinks. For all she knows, he’s wandered off to the aisle where the gourmet meals are and is having his own little feast. What she does know is that the water is just a few inches below the checkout lane now, and it’s rising more quickly. One way or the other, she’ll be in the murk soon.
Ten minutes later, standing in a thin puddle on the counter, Max decides she can’t wait. After taking a deep breath, she tears a rip in one packet, then flings it toward the door, twenty feet away. It lands right at the threshold but comes rushing back inside, driven by the floodwater’s current. She watches the pouch, praying for Ivory to snap it up, take the bait. But it just drifts along idly. A minute goes by, then another, and it disappears back into the shadows where she can’t see. What does that mean? Has the gator drifted to a far corner of the room? Is his hunger so slight that he’s satisfied now?
“Try again!” Sabine yells, watching from her post above.
Though she’s not sure what good it will do, Max can’t think of a reason not to try, so she cocks back her arm and heaves a second open pouch, putting everything she’s got into it. This one flies through the door, out into the parking lot, and Max studies the water at the threshold, hoping to see the pink ridges of the beast’s back.
Instead, she’s shocked when the figure of a man fills the open space. Some guy stands there in the rain, slender with tan skin, holding the pouch. The stranger asks, “Is this some kind of giveaway?”
Max says, “What?”
The man reaches for the rim of a baseball hat with a fleur-de-lis. “Sweeney Soileau. You call for a taxi?”
Max is trying to make sense of this when she sees something even more astonishing. Eli, unsinkable Eli, pushes past Sweeney, charging into the store and yelling her name.
“I’m here!” she yells back. “Watch out. Stop!”
“Watch out for what?”
She points a finger down. “There’s an alligator in here. In the water. The albino one they were keeping in that pen outside.”
“Ivory?” Sweeney asks. “I saw him trapped before when I was on patrol. I busted the lock, reckoned he’d make his way inland. Just wanted to give the old sonuvagun half a chance.”
Both men are just inside the door, hip deep in water. Max says, “Well, maybe he’ll be grateful for your kindness. But more likely he’ll look at you same as he looked at me and try to make you dinner. Your call.”
“Ivory’s old and harmless,” Sweeney says. “Half-blind and lazy from being a tourist attraction. He wouldn’t hurt a—”
“Here he comes!” shouts Sabine, pointing.
When Max follows her finger, she can just make out the shape gliding through the water, prehistoric and primal. Ivory eases through the sale displays, passes Max, and slips down the next checkout lane over. He makes a hard right and darts toward Eli and Sweeney.
“C’mon!” Eli shouts. “Back here!”
The men lurch forward in the water, high-stepping, then scramble over the sideways ATV into the closed-off area behind the customer service counter. Ivory slashes behind them, raising his snout up onto the vehicle and snapping at the air. Eli and Sweeney back away until they hit the far corner. Sweeney takes one more step, beyond the edge of the desk, and says, “There’s a swing door down here.”
At the other end of the counter, Ivory claws at the ATV, trying to mount it. Eli says, “Don’t tell him that. See if there’s a latch or something.”
“Just one of them eye-hook thingamabobs.”
“Lock it!” Eli yells. He opens a drawer and throws objects at Ivory: a binder, some scissors, something that might be a stapler. Probably annoyed more than wounded, Ivory retreats and then vanishes again.
Once he’s gone, Sweeney removes his hat and wipes a hand through his hair. He looks over at Max and says, “Hey, missy, you might could have a point about him being a bit on the ornery side. I’ll give you that.”
Max shakes her head and thinks, This island is full of nothing but winners. She shouts, “I’ve been watching the water. It’s coming up quicker now than before. I need to make a break for it.”
“Stay there!” Sweeney yells. “Movement will attract him for sure.”
Eli surveys the water lapping the customer service desk. “Yeah, we got the same situation. I’m surprised he couldn’t get over this now if he set his mind to it. This is definitely far from good.”
Sweeney holds up the meal pouch, which Max is surprised he didn’t drop in the excitement. “What were you doing with this thing?”
“I got him to eat one before. I was trying to trick him into going outside.”
“Good plan,” Eli says.
“Only in theory,” Max responds.
Sweeney scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, but what next? Say you get him outside. Then you maybe got that ungrateful sumbitch waiting on an ambush? Can’t say as I’m a big fan of that.”
Max scrunches her face, having not considered this. She asks Sweeney, “Any chance you got a gun?”
“I got a bunch,” Sweeney answers. “J
ust none on my person at the moment. I recognize that presents an unfortunate inconvenience.”
From above them, Sabine hollers, “He’s over there now!” She points to a space between the customer service counter and the checkout lanes. Ivory seems to be biding his time.
“We got to trap him,” Eli says.
“Trap him with what?” Sweeney asks. “Our charm and good looks?”
Eli starts rifling through drawers and cabinets. Max tries to think of some way to help, then holds up the pouches she’d gathered earlier and says, “Hey! You can use that thing he’s got as bait.”
Eli pauses and glares her way. “Yeah, I got that far on my own. Throw them other ones over.”
Max ignores his snarky tone and cocks one arm back, aiming for Eli’s head, which she nearly hits. The first pouch slams into the wall and drops in the water. The next one arcs a bit to the right and Eli needs to lean into the ATV to catch it. It’s there that he looks down, leans in, and shakes his head. “Unbelievable. God bless them scavenger Odenkirks.”
Max isn’t sure what he means until she sees him unwinding the rusty chain from the headlight.
“You think he’ll try to swallow that?” Max asks.
“I think maybe.”
Sweeney extends his arms. “How about you getting him back here behind this little counter? You and me hop over and I close that door, lock him in?”
Eli seems to consider this. He changes places with Sweeney and looks down where Max assumes the swing door must be. “You don’t think he’d smash through that cheap wood?”
Sweeney shrugs. “Don’t nobody know what a gator’s going to do but the gator and God.”
“Well, the way I see it—”
“Yo, boys!” Max shouts. “How ’bout you quit comparing testosterone levels and just do both?” When they look her way, equally baffled, she says, “Bait the hook and set it back behind the counter with the door open. If he goes after it, hightail it over the desk and lock him in. Then we’ll all make a break for it.”
The men nod at each other, and then they get to work. Max, satisfied, glances up at Sabine and tells her, “Grab my backpack and get to the top of the stairs. When I tell you, run down fast as you can and I’ll help you through the water. Don’t look around at anything. Just run.” She’s surprised by what she hears in her voice, something more than simple concern or even affection. Is this what it feels like to be a big sister? Is this some version of how Angie feels when she rubs her bulging belly?
The kid flashes a thumbs-up.
“Swedish Meatball?” Eli asks. “Or Mac-and-Cheese Delight?”
“Go with the meatball,” Max says.
Eli sinks a hook deep into a pouch and drops it in the water behind the customer service desk. Then he quickly anchors the chain to the ATV. He and Sweeney slide onto the counter, and they wait for ten minutes, all of them in silence as the water rises. Now it’s sloshing freely over the checkout counter Max stands on, covering her bare feet. Above them, Sabine reports, “He still ain’t moving.”
“All right,” Eli says. “Time to up the ante.”
Sweeney nods. He and Eli rip open the other meal pouches and dip them in the water, letting the meaty juices flow out. Not long after, Sabine yells, “Ivory’s gone under! I can’t see him no more.”
Sweeney, Eli, and Max swivel their heads, their eyes sweeping the surface. Eli checks that the little swing door is open and then backs to the far edge of the countertop. Sweeney makes space for him and says, “This is genuinely ludicrous, yeah?”
“Give it a minute,” Eli says. “Then I’ll go in the water, head for the far side of the store and draw his attention. You get these two back to your place.”
Max yells, “When are you gonna cut that savior crap out? We’ll get out of here together.”
A great crashing above them turns their heads. The opening in the ceiling where water had been dripping down is now a gaping mouth, with rain pouring through it. Max pictures the collapsed tower.
“I think we got to go,” Sweeney announces. “He ain’t taking the bait, and we got to get heading to my shelter. That surge, she’s due any time now. We’ll all move slow.” He looks up toward the girl. “Honey child, I’ll be coming for you and you climb up on me for a piggyback ride, okay?”
“Jasper’s scared. He wants to cry.”
Sweeney raises a questioning eyebrow toward Max, who shouts, “Jasper’s her teddy bear.” She sees that Sabine has the backpack with her father’s ashes slung over one shoulder.
“All right, then,” Sweeney says. “Jasper can come too. Slow and easy. No splashing or jerky movements.”
Sweeney eases into the water on the outside of the desk, and Eli does the same. Max sits on the submerged edge of the checkout counter and then stands in the water, now halfway up her chest. She looks around and whispers, “I’ll never say another bad thing about New Jersey.”
Fighting the urge to rush, she inches along the lane, then turns toward the door, only thirty feet away. Sweeney is heading for Sabine, still dry on the steps, while Eli makes his way toward the exit with both arms raised high, as if he’s surrendering. They share a nervous smile. Eli’s right at the end of the desk when he stops cold, staring straight ahead. Max is sure he’s spotted Ivory, and her eyes flash to where he’s looking.
But it isn’t the alligator at all. Against all logic, there in the doorway, leveling a rifle at Eli, stands Judgment Odenkirk. He strides inside, takes in the scene with a smug grin, and says, “Never did get my invitation to this particular reunion. But I’m willing to overlook that breach of etiquette. I reckon this’ll do.” With both hands, he lifts the gun for effect.
“Who’s this now?” Sweeney wants to know. He’s got Sabine on his back and is wading toward Eli. As he comes closer to Judge, he says, “I know you. You’re Aloysius Odenkirk’s boy. I knew your father. He was a good man.”
Judge spits in the water. “I knew him to be a drunkard and a liar both. But my momma never gave up on him. I seen you around. That your monster truck out front, yeah?”
Charity appears in the doorway. When she sees the girl, she shouts, “Sabine!”
As Charity charges through the water, Max remembers the alligator. Why wouldn’t Ivory have attacked with all this commotion? Maybe he floated out of the store before the Odenkirks arrived, or maybe he’s somewhere in the aisles nearby. Max imagines his view, with all these juicy legs ripe for the taking. She shouts, “Look, you guys! We got to get out of here.”
But everyone’s attention seems focused on Charity, who reaches for Sabine. The girl climbs off Sweeney’s shoulders and into her embrace. “Jasper had him some big adventures,” she says.
Judge walks closer to the customer service desk. “Sister! Look how they wrecked up your ATV. You all don’t handle stolen property very well.”
Sweeney advances toward Judge. “Son, you got no cause aiming a weapon at anybody. Come on. You two can come to my place in the sanctuary. It’s reinforced good, high and dry. Best spot to weather this storm for sure and for certain.”
“There’s kids out in our bus,” Charity says. “Seven of ’em.”
Sweeney says, “That’s fine. Might be a bit cramped but we’ll make do. Before we can do anything, though, this young man here’s got to lower that Remington.”
“You’re about half right,” Judge says. “Here’s what we’ll do instead. You all can go with Charity to your fancy tree house. Take the rug rats. That’s fine, and I’d be in your debt. But me, I need that big truck, yeah. See, my little brothers screwed up good, and my momma’s stuck down at the Chains. I got to go fetch them.”
“The Chains?” Eli says.
Again, Max says, “Guys, we need to get out of here. Right?”
Eli looks her way, and his eyes slide down to the water. He swallows hard.
Sweeney tilts his head at Judge and says, “Listen good, boy. Anything at the Chains is underwater by now or it’s about to be. That storm surge is already past
due. I’m sorry about your momma, truly. But I got no intentions of giving you my truck.”
“I don’t recall asking permission,” Judge says, cocking the rifle. “And you left the keys in it.” He glances toward Sabine, up in Charity’s arms. “I got all I came here for.”
Max notices the ATV rocking gently, but she can’t tell if it’s from the floodwater’s ebb and flow or something else under the rippling water.
“Hellfire and hand grenades,” Sweeney says. “We ain’t got no time for this nonsense. Come on, ya’ll, we’re getting in my truck. You Odenkirks are welcome to follow us.”
Sweeney takes one more step, and the rifle spits a red flash, the gunshot like a shout. Sweeney’s body spins, reeling back into Eli’s arms. Charity yells, “Judgment!”
Max rushes through the water, but her quick motion draws Judge’s attention. He cocks the rifle as he pivots her way. “You and your boyfriend ain’t exactly high on my list of popular people right now. I wouldn’t be testing my patience.”
In Eli’s arms, Sweeney says, “Medic? I’m hit.” One hand grips the opposite arm, but Max is surprised by how strong his voice sounds. Judge leans back onto the ATV, looking satisfied that he’s finally in command. With his rifle resting comfortable across his lap, he says, “Now that we all understand who’s got the only vote what matters, let’s get on about our business.”
“This is crazy,” Eli says. “Charity, can’t you talk sense into him?”
“I been failing at that for about ten years,” she answers.
Sweeney turns his head to say, “You shot me, you hairless moron. I did two tours in Iraq and never got wounded.”
“I reckon you’ll live. I didn’t but wing you.”
Suddenly, the ATV shifts. Judge bolts upright, standing clear of the vehicle, and looks back at it. The four-wheeler shimmies in the floodwater, and Max watches the chain attached to the handlebars as it goes loose, then taut. She and Eli lock eyes, and he drags Sweeney a couple steps toward her, away from the desk. Judge says, “What in the hell?” and leans over the ATV to investigate.
When Ivory’s jaws explode from the water, they are wide and white with jagged teeth. They latch on to Judge’s skull and yank his body forward, folding him in half over the ATV. His arms flail wildly as the alligator thrashes. Above the horrible screams—Judge’s, Charity’s, her own—Max hears Eli yell, “Go! Go! Go!”
Into the Hurricane Page 13
