by Kenny Soward
No one was fleeing from the flood waters, either. No one at all. Either they’d climbed higher in the buildings or had been washed away. And what about the people back at the hotel? Were they under water by now, too, or had they gotten to the upper floors?
Sudden tears welled up in Jake’s eyes, and he turned his head away from Marcy so she wouldn’t see. Then he realized it didn’t matter because his face was already wet with rain. Jake trudged harder as the frustration flowed out of him, feet stomping through the rain as his eyes scanned the distance for any sign of blue lights or rescue crews. Any hope at all.
“Hey,” Marcy called after him. “You’re losing me, Jake. Slow down.”
Jake stopped on the sidewalk and looked back. He’d gotten so far ahead of Marcy that she was just a shadow rushing to meet him through the storm.
“Sorry,” he said as she came up.
Marcy took one look at his face, and her expressive eyes filled with sympathy. “Don’t worry about it, Jake. Let’s just keep moving.” She put her arm around his waist and waited.
Jake threw his arm over Marcy’s shoulder, and together they plodded on, leaning into the wind.
He had to trust that Ashley and Sam had done their job and gotten the people at the Westin to safety. He had to hope that somewhere out there rescue crews were coming to save them. He had to hope he’d make it out of this alive and get back to Sara and the kids.
Jake had to hope, because hope was all he had.
Chapter 8
Sara, Gatlinburg, Tennessee | 9:35 a.m., Saturday
The van cut through the water like a boat, sending waves high on both sides. The foothills around Pine Bluff were already flooded from the torrential downpour, and visibility was next to nothing. Sara sat forward with her eyes staring straight ahead and her hands clenching the wheel in a white-knuckled grip. Her senses were heightened, focus intent, adrenaline pumping through her veins.
“Lucky, lucky, lucky,” Sara whispered under her breath as rain and wind pummeled the van, rocking it sideways on the old, winding road. They were enclosed by forest on both sides, and the locals’ houses were tucked in behind the trees, surrounded by stone walls or piles of junk.
A car came down from the opposite direction, and Sara flashed her bright lights several times to tell them to slow down. When they didn’t, Sara edged the van to the side of the road to give them room to pass. The van’s tires crunched at the edge of the blacktop, and the vehicle leaned dangerously to the right.
“Mom.” Todd edged up in his seat, staring out of his window into a ditch.
“Got it,” Sara said, guiding the van past the oncoming car and easing it back toward the center of the road.
Her son relaxed in his seat, and Sara let out a relieved sigh.
“That was close,” she said, blinking.
“Too close,” Todd agreed.
“Should be easier from here,” Sara said, noting that the road had straightened out and was rising at a steady incline.
They climbed higher, cutting through an inch of water that continually rolled over the road like a waterfall. At the top of a steep hill, Sara stopped the van and looked out over the vehicle’s snub nose. The road dropped off in front of them, but Sara knew it was just one of the big, steep dips typical of these mountain roads.
Sara eased the van forward, pressing and releasing the brake with a steady rhythm. Once they were over the hill and pointed downward, she looked at the bottom to see water rushing across the road. A flimsy guardrail lined the right shoulder and was the only thing protecting them from a sheer drop.
Her shoulders clenched with tension as the weight of the van shifted forward, causing them to pick up speed. Sara pumped the brake harder, doing her best to attain a steady descent.
The van suddenly shuddered and hydroplaned toward the guardrail. Sara’s breath caught in her chest as she let up on the brake, allowing the van to cruise the last fifty feet to slam into the cross flood. Spray arched up over their windows but settled quickly, and they came out the other side okay. Sara hit the gas, the engine roared, and they ascended the next hill.
“Wow, Mom,” Todd said in an awe-filled voice. “Nice going.”
“Thanks,” Sara replied, her relief short-lived because they were only halfway there. She fought three more hills the same way until they reached the long, winding road up to Pine Bluff. By that time, her hands were numb and her neck was stiff. She relaxed her shoulders and shook the pins and needles from her wrists one at a time. Then she rolled her head around once to loosen her neck and shoulders.
“You okay, Mom?” Todd asked.
“I’m fine,” Sara said. “Just a little stiff. What a roller coaster ride, huh?”
“Heck yeah,” Todd replied, looking at his mom with a new sense of wonder. “That was some amazing driving.”
“Thanks, kid.” Sara grinned briefly at her son, happy with the small victory. “I appreciate the compliment, but I’m kicking myself for not bringing the Xterra. We should have known better. I’ll be happy when we get to the cabin and get settled in.”
“Don’t forget my pancakes,” Zoe said in a sleepy voice. Sara glanced in the rearview mirror to see that her daughter’s head listed to one side, and her eyes were shut. She’d dozed right through the dangerous ride without a care in the world.
They passed several prefab cabins placed strategically along Pine Bluff Road. They were built specifically for tourists and boasted magnificent views of the surrounding landscape. Some appeared to be empty, but others had cars and SUVs parked in their driveways. Sara even noted a pristine black Jeep glistening behind some trees at the end of a long driveway next to a cabin with a sign that read, “Honeymoon Hill.”
Sara drove past all of them, slightly envious of the black Jeep, never thinking to stop once. The only thing on her mind was getting the kids to the cabin and out of this storm. Pine Bluff Road was well-designed, and the water drained off easily, allowing Sara to get to the top with little trouble.
They pulled onto the gravel driveway to their cabin and approached the wooden bridge Jake had built over a stream running through their property. Only now, the stream was more like a small river, nearly washing over the bridge.
“Think it will be okay?” Todd asked with a blink.
“It’ll be fine. Your dad and I built that bridge ten years ago, and it’s still solid.”
Sara pressed gently on the gas, and the van trundled over the wooden planks and down the other side, crossing the last thirty yards to the cabin. Sara’s heart lifted as her eyes settled on it.
The cabin was a squat, two-story structure with walls made of rich timber and a metal roof Jake had promised would never leak. They’d built it on a rise with a foundation of poured concrete, and the porches overlooking the valley were supported by piers and beams. They’d spent nearly every penny they’d had at the time and labored for a year to make the dream come to life.
Sara pulled the van in a circle and backed it up to the front porch.
“We might get a little wet,” Sara said as she put the van in park and turned it off.
“A little water never hurt anyone, right?” Todd opened the passenger side door and hopped out.
“No, never hurt anyone a bit,” Sara laughed lightly before she reached for the door handle, opened it, and stepped down.
The scents of wet forest caressed her face as she looked around at their peaceful homestead. A big storage shed sat off to the side of the cabin, complete with a water collection system and a generator. A smaller shed full of tools sat behind the cabin.
“The place looks great,” Sara said, looking around in the rain. They’d offered some locals, the Williamsons, money to watch the place and pick up around the yard, but the Williamsons had insisted on doing it for free. Everything looked just like they’d left it: locked up tight, undisturbed, and clean, aside from the brush and branches brought in by the recent winds.
Todd let Rex out of the back, and the German Shepherd barked once
before he took off in a dead run through the yard.
“Poor guy must have car fever,” Sara said as the dog barked happily and sprinted through the grass.
Sara fished the keys out of her purse and went up the steps to the front door. She unlocked the dead bolt, pushed the door open, and crossed over to a security panel placed on the wall. After punching in her security code on the keypad to turn of the alarm, Sara looked around.
Half of the first floor was open with a tall cathedral ceiling bolstered by big wooden beams. A long couch was positioned in front of a rustic fireplace, and Jake’s favorite recliner swung off the right end. Mounted above the fireplace was a flat-screen TV, perfect for family movie nights. The kitchen was bare and basic, with just a propane stove and refrigerator to accommodate their cooking and cold storage needs.
The master bedroom was on the first floor through a set of double doors, and Sara had to resist the urge to go right in and collapse on the bed. A stairwell led up to the kids’ rooms, along with a small family area where they played board games whenever the mood struck them. Downstairs was their storage room, filled with most of their long-term survival supplies.
It smelled like wood and dust. It smelled like home.
Sara remembered when she and Jake had first discovered Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge. They’d laughed about how touristy it was, and how it just wasn’t their thing. Then they’d rented a cabin up this way and immediately fallen in love with the breathtaking beauty of the mountains and the kindness of the local people. They’d learned where all the best local restaurants were, and they’d gotten to know some good people over the years. There were Jim and Mitzy Tate who lived on the other side of the valley with their two teenagers. Another couple, Jarvis and Shantel Whitaker, lived over on Boogtown Road, and they were always good for a nightcap at one of the local watering holes.
After their fifth trip to the area, tired of renting another fabricated cabin, Sara and Jake had decided to build a cabin of their own up here on Pine Bluff. A real cabin built so strong that it could withstand any storm. Something that represented the faith and trust they had in each other.
Smiling, Sara turned and walked out onto the front porch, her boots clomping on the wooden floorboards. Todd had already unloaded some of the supplies they’d brought, hair dripping into his eyes.
“Some storm, huh?” Sara asked as she looked toward the front of the van where Zoe slept. “I’ll wake your sister. She can help.”
“No, it’s okay, Mom.” Todd tossed a faint smile in Zoe’s direction. “Let her sleep. I’ve got this.”
“Okay, kid,” Sara said with a warm flash in her heart. “We’ll get all the canned stuff downstairs where it’s cool. We should have enough room for the MREs, too. You can leave the new solar panel up here on the porch.”
“Okay, Mom.”
Sara went to the back of the van and lifted a box with Canned Tomatoes stenciled across the side. Every time they came to the cabin, they brought a few more supplies with them. Jake had always been doubtful they would ever need it, but he might be proved wrong if the roads washed out. Sadly, Jake wasn’t here so she could rib him about it.
We may or may not need the supplies, Sara thought as she opened the door and took the first step down into the musty cellar, but right now this cabin is a godsend.
Her movement triggered a motion sensor, and light flooded the stairs. At the bottom, the homey scent of wood gave way to cool cement, and Sara carried the heavy box over to the shelf of canned goods and set it down.
She stood, arched her back to stretch it, and took stock of the room. Five rows of shelves dutifully stacked held stocks of rice, bottled water, and canned meals. There were jars of pea soup, canned fruit, freeze-dried meat, and MREs. A tall safe in the back corner held their guns and ammunition, and she’d brought even more to add to their stockpile.
Sara put away the canned tomatoes, climbed the steps, and returned to the porch. Todd had the van completely unloaded, and together they started taking things down to the cellar except for the few boxes of perishable goods they’d be using for this trip.
With the last box moved, a wave of exhaustion struck Sara. She’d been awake for over twenty-four hours, driven all night, shot a fake cop, and battled a raging storm to deliver them safely to the cabin. She needed a little downtime. They all did.
“We’ll put this away later,” she announced.
“That sounds good,” Todd said with a tired sigh. “I’m thinking I need a sandwich and a soda. You want anything?”
“I’m tired as all get out, but I don’t want to sleep the day away,” Sara said firmly and then raised her tone in a hopeful way. “Could you put on a half-pot of coffee?
“Actually, that sounds pretty good,” Todd agreed, starting back up the stairs. “I’ll make a full pot and have some with you.”
“Thanks, hon.” Sara followed her son up the stairs. “I’ll get your sister and put her to bed.”
“Good luck with that,” Todd said. “You know what she wants.”
“Pancakes, I know. But she’s had a long day, poor thing. I doubt she’s thinking about pancakes right now.”
At the top of the stairs, Todd turned toward the kitchen and Sara went out on the porch. The wind was picking up, and the tops of the trees swayed in agitation, throwing big drops to strike their metal roof in a patter of noise.
Rex bounded onto the porch in a bundle of wet fur and doggie enthusiasm.
“Shhh.” Sara took the shepherd by his collar and rubbed the top of his head, whispering, “Calm down, boy.”
Rex gave a soft grunt and lowered his head dutifully, his tail swishing back and forth like mad. Smiling, Sara shut the back of the van quietly and leaned against the doors until they clicked. Then she went around to the side and opened the sliding door. Zoe was still knocked out, with her head lolling to the side and a blanket in her arms.
“Hey, Zo,” she said, starting to unbuckle the girl softly. “We’re here. Your bed is calling.”
“Carry me,” Zoe said, rolling in Sara’s direction with her arms out.
Sara resisted the urge to take her daughter in her arms and carry her inside. “No, you’re a big girl. C’mon. Hop down.”
Zoe grumbled but complied, stepping down out of the van with a yawn. Rex came up to lick her arm, and she giggled and rubbed the shepherd’s head with both hands.
“You had a pretty long night, huh?” Sara asked as she led her daughter up the stairs and into the house. “
“Yeah,” Zoe said. “It was loud.”
“It sure was.”
Zoe stopped at the foot of the stairs, blinked, and looked with bleary eyes toward the kitchen. “No pancakes?”
“I can make you some, if you want.” Sara couldn’t bring herself to deny the girl after promising her several times. “However, I think you’d enjoy them a little more if you were all rested up.”
“Can Rex sleep with me?” Zoe asked, shifting her attention from the kitchen to the dog.
“Let me get him dried off first, okay?”
“I can do it,” Zoe said with a tired sigh Sara might have expected from a grownup. “Sleep now. Pancakes later. Night, Mom.”
“Goodnight, Zoe.”
“C’mon boy,” Zoe called to the waiting dog as she trudged up the stairs.
Rex cocked his head to the side and gave Sara an expectant look. When she didn’t say “no,” the dog bolted up the stairs after the girl.
Chapter 9
Jake, Boston, Massachusetts | 3:34 p.m., Saturday
“I think that’s Interstate 93 up ahead,” Marcy said, leaning in and pointing.
“How do you know?” Jake shouted the question over the wind as he peered ahead. All he saw were ruined buildings and dark clouds looming over them. They’d been walking for hours, but it didn’t seem like they were making much progress.
“I’ve been to Boston a few times with the husband and kids,” Marcy said. “Mostly did touristy stuff. Franklin Zoo, Red Sox g
ames, stuff like that.”
“That’s good to know,” Jake said. “If there are any rescue crews trying to get into the city, we’d see them there.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“That’s where we’ll go then,” Jake said with renewed hope, turning down a wide street that looked like a main thoroughfare into a warehouse district. The street signs had been ripped out, and the storefronts were mostly gone, but it looked like it led closer to the interstate.
Jake put his head down and plunged ahead into the storm. They passed several cars along the way, mostly spun around or damaged, only a few still parked. Jake and Marcy were unable to find any keys or any other useful items as they looked through several of them.
“Should have taken that hotwiring class in college,” Jake joked after he backed out of a sedan he’d been searching through.
“Me, too,” Marcy said. “I put all my eggs into law school. Probably should have taken Urban Survival 101.”
Jake laughed and led on, leaning into the wind and rain like they’d done all day. It wasn’t until they stepped into a six-way intersection that the gusts became unbearable, and they were peppered with debris from the twisting winds.
He grabbed Marcy by the shoulders and pulled her close, shouting into her face. “We’ve got to get out of this!”
Marcy nodded vigorously, and he could tell by the weary look in her eyes and her pale lips that she was ready for a break, too. Jake turned in a circle, looking for a haven in the storm. He spotted a cluster of buildings on the left and pulled Marcy toward the alley running between them. The close walls cut off much of the wind as they rushed through, though it was still cold and wet.
Stepping into the back lot, Jake spotted a short truck pulled up to a loading dock, and he went over to have a look inside.
There were no keys, but a heavy crowbar lay across the front seat. They could just wait out the winds in the truck, despite knowing it wouldn’t offer much protection if another tornado came through.