by Pam Webber
Dodging debris, Win hurried over, dropped to her knees, and gently laid her cheek against Nettie’s. No words were necessary.
Nettie lay back down. “Are the boys okay?”
“Yes. They’re in Lovingston. Officials have set up an emergency flood command center outside of town.”
“Nibi?”
Loss transformed Win’s face. “They haven’t found her.”
The flood had taken so much. Now Nibi. “She could still be alive somewhere. Look at us.”
Win sat back on her heels. “She’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“Just before dawn, she came to me in a vision. She was standing with my grandfather and others.” Win brushed away tears. “She was smiling. She hand-signaled me to be strong and live a long and fruitful life. She put her hands over her heart and the vision faded away.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I think she knew she was going to die with the blood moon but never said a word. That’s why she gave all of her things away. Why she gave us her jewelry.”
“I think so too.”
“She wasn’t concerned about herself, just us and the boys.”
“How did you all make it out?”
“When Andy went after you, it was raining so hard I wasn’t sure I could get them up the mountain, much less find the cave, but we did. When it quit raining and the sun came up, there was no going back down. The floodwaters were halfway up the mountain. Mudslides were everywhere. Nibi’s house, barn, everything was gone.”
Nettie tightened her hand around Win’s.
“That’s when we realized Oak’s Landing was gone too. The boys took it hard but knew we had to keep moving. We waded through the mud to the top of the mountain and ran the ridge. We came out of the woods just above Walton’s Pass. Sheriff Tanner was there, checking road blocks where Route 56 used to be. He gave us a ride to the flood command center. There’s enough asphalt left on Route 29 that the National Guard is using it as a staging area for helicopters bringing in rescue personnel and supplies.”
“Have they found other survivors?”
“They hadn’t when we left, except for the boys. They’re still trying to get to the small towns upriver. Roads and bridges are washed out. Nobody can get in or leave, except by air or boat.”
“What about home? Amherst? Our families?”
“Sheriff Tanner said parts of Amherst County had some flooding, but nothing like this. He was going to try to get in touch with our families while I came with the guardsmen to get you and Andy.”
Nettie winced as the muscles in her broken leg spasmed.
“Jeez, I almost forgot.” Win took Nibi’s bag off her shoulder and pulled out two miniature bottles. Uncapping one, she put the rim to Nettie’s lips. The contents smelled of oak and tasted medicinal. “This will keep all your cuts and scrapes from getting infected.” Putting the first bottle away, she uncapped a cobalt-blue one. “This one is for pain.”
The scent filled Nettie’s head with a deliciousness that crested and flowed away like an ocean swell. “Angel Water.” The thick, sweet-tasting liquid soothed her mouth and throat. “I thought it was supposed to ease heartache.”
“The smell does that. The liquid eases physical pain.”
“I hope one works as well as the other.”
“It will. Give it a few minutes.”
“How did you know? Where Andy and I were, I mean?”
“A vision. I saw you, clear as day, by the spring in the shade of the Gospel Oak.”
“I should have guessed. You’re getting good.”
“I told them you and Andy were alive and exactly where you were. They didn’t believe me—that is, until Sheriff Tanner told them to get off their asses and get a bird in the air. I flew with them to show the way. Once we confirmed you two were here, they sent the boat.”
“It’s a wonder they let you onboard, as dangerous as the river is.”
“They didn’t want to. Sheriff Tanner insisted. He told them I knew my way around these mountains better than anyone, even in the dark.”
Andy and the guardsmen unfolded a stretcher next to Nettie. Replacing the makeshift splint with one made of metal and Velcro, the four of them moved her from a soft green bed to a sheet-covered canvas one and tucked a blanket around her. The Angel Water had already begun to blunt the pain as the guardsmen cinched the buckles holding her on the stretcher. She searched for Andy. “My dreamcatcher.”
“Don’t worry. I have it.”
“Win, it saved my life. Nibi knew it would. Where’s yours?”
Win hesitated, her voice low. “At the emergency center. The sheriff said he’d keep it for me until I was ready to get it back.”
Nettie understood. Losing Nibi meant a major life change for Win. Her dreamcatcher was now that of a Monacan medicine woman.
Lifting the stretcher, the guardsmen carefully made their way toward the riverbank. Nettie raised her hand. “Please, stop. Andy, Mrs. Loving.”
“They know about her, honey. They’ll come back to get her and the others in the morning.”
Others? Nettie didn’t ask.
Navigating the muck, the guardsmen straddled Nettie’s stretcher between two seats and tied it down. Andy climbed in, settling next to her. After helping Win onboard, the guardsmen paddled the boat into the slurried current, then started the motor.
As they skimmed downriver, the cool breeze, brilliant starry sky, and now lakelike floodwaters seemed surreal compared with the savagery of a few hours ago. Nothing hinted at the horror and devastation beneath them, of the spirits having flown. In the distance, moonbeams shone off the stations of the tilted cross standing atop the water, the only remnant of a world that was.
Nettie closed her eyes to walk in the shade of the grand oaks, roam the familiar streets, trek the path to Nibi’s, and say goodbye.
Chapter 18
The johnboat pulled up to the emergency landing on the outskirts of Lovingston. Men with odd black hats and long beards without mustaches worked with the guardsmen to secure the boat and help everyone out. Unhooking the stretcher, they carried Nettie to a first-aid station housed in a large military tent, then gently moved her to a soft cot and gave her a pillow—seemingly little things that lessened her pain on contact. Andy and Win settled on folding chairs beside her.
“Mennonites?” Nettie asked.
Win nodded. “Volunteers from all over Virginia and up and down the East Coast started arriving this morning in droves, especially the Mennonites. They’re doing anything and everything to help up and down the valley.”
Volunteers and medical people were scattered about. Rows of empty stretchers filled the tent.
“They must have sent a lot of folks to the hospital already.”
“I don’t think so.”
It took a moment for Nettie to realize what Win meant. The helicopters were ferrying bodies.
“Any news on survivors?”
“Nothing. I checked both lists when we got here.”
Lists? Survivors. And those who weren’t.
Andy accepted a sandwich from a woman in a white bonnet and a long, aproned dress. He offered Nettie the first bite. Before she could take it, a petite blonde in green military khakis with rolled-up sleeves and a stamped name badge that said LINDA HOWE, RN, took the sandwich and handed it back to Andy. “Sorry, young lady. You can’t eat yet.”
Nettie’s mouth had started watering the moment she’d seen the sandwich. She hadn’t eaten in two days. “Why not?”
Linda set a small tray with three syringes on the corner of the cot. “From the looks of your right leg, you’re going to the operating room as soon as we get you to Lynchburg General. Your stomach needs to be empty.”
Linda’s blue eyes were kind but not kidding.
“The operating room? Why?” Having had her tonsils out, Nettie knew enough about hospitals and surgery to know she wasn’t crazy about doing it again.
Linda tore open an alcohol wipe, then
cleaned Nettie’s upper arm in a widening circle. “Dirty water, lots of cuts and punctures, and at least one broken, dislocated bone. They’ll put you to sleep, reduce the dislocation, and set the fracture. When you wake up, that leg will feel a lot better and you’ll be able to eat.” Opening a second alcohol wipe, she cleaned the same spot again, then pulled the red rubber cap off one of the syringes. “This is a tetanus booster. It might sting.”
Linda quickly and precisely injected the vaccine without drawing a drop of blood.
“It didn’t hurt.”
“Good.” Linda turned to Win and Andy. “Who wants to be next?”
Neither volunteered, but that didn’t save them.
Nettie giggled. “Jeez, you two. It’s just a needle.”
Once their immunizations were done, Linda covered Nettie with a clean sheet and removed Andy’s shirt. Gathering a squeeze bottle of antiseptic, a tall stack of gauze pads, and white tape, she cleaned and dressed Nettie’s broken skin without significantly increasing the pain and without exposing anything that didn’t need to be seen.
Nettie paid close attention to everything Linda did and how she did it. “You’re pretty slick with this stuff.”
Linda winked. “When you work in a tent filled with people and no walls, you have to be slick.”
Putting Nettie in a hospital gown and covering her with a clean sheet, Linda turned to Andy. “You have some cuts that need attention too, young man. You’re going to have to let go of her hand long enough for me to get to them.”
Within minutes, Linda had everyone cleaned up, patched, and ready to evacuate. “We’re going to fly the three of you to Lynchburg as soon as one of the choppers gets back. Your parents have been notified that you’re safe. They’re going to meet you at the emergency room.”
Linda picked up the remnants of her work and disappeared as Sheriff Tanner ducked into the tent. Weariness dragged at his shoulders; sadness circled his eyes. Removing his hat, he nodded to Nettie and Andy. “Mighty glad to see you two.”
“Yes, sir. We’re relieved to be here.”
Andy stood and shook his hand. “Thank you for sending them for us, sir.”
“Don’t thank me, son—thank Win. Without her, we wouldn’t have known where to begin to look, or even that you all were alive.”
One of the volunteers set a folding chair beside the Sheriff. He lowered himself slowly, as if unsure his knees would bend. Accepting a steaming cup of black coffee, he slumped back and took a sip.
“Sir,” Win asked, “have you had any rest since this started?”
He shook his head. “Rescue effort is just getting under way.” He sighed. “I survived the 1936 flood, served in Korea for three years, and have been the law in these parts for more than forty years. I’ve seen a lot of horrible things, but nothing like this. Ever. I doubt anyone has. Forty plus inches of rain fell in less than eight hours. The whole valley drowned. Folks washed away in their beds.”
A deputy entered the tent to hand the sheriff a piece of paper. Tipping his hat to the rest of them, he left as quietly as he’d come.
The sheriff studied the page, then pressed his eyes, as if trying to process the words.
“More survivors?” Nettie needed to know.
He shook his head.
“Please.”
Andy squeezed her hand.
“A hundred dead so far, most from Nelson County. Entire families. Bodies are being found from the Tye to the James, some as far away as Richmond. They’ve lined prisoners from the state penitentiary along the bridges to help spot bodies. The Coast Guard has set up spotters in the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay.” He laid the paper in his lap. “We may never find some of these folks.”
Sheriff Tanner stared through the page until a volunteer approached. “Sir, would you like more coffee or something to eat?”
He shook his head and thanked the diminutive woman. When she’d moved away, he continued. “So far, the Warren boys are the only survivors from Oak’s Landing. And the only reason they survived is because they were on Nibi’s mountain with you all.”
Win blinked back tears. “They survived because of Nibi. We all survived because of her. She connected dots we didn’t even know were there.”
Sheriff Tanner handed her a crumpled handkerchief. “Nibi would be very proud of what you did, and even more for what you’re going to do, what all of you are going to do.”
“Sir?”
“You all are going to recover from this nightmare and live the lives Nibi would want you to live. My friend deserves no less. Neither do you.”
The pulsing sound of approaching helicopters grew louder as Sheriff Tanner donned his hat. “You all stay in touch.”
As the sheriff exited, Linda appeared in the entrance with Wade and Skip Warren, cleaned up, pale, eyes red-rimmed, hesitant, and holding hands. “These two wouldn’t leave until you all got here safely. They want to say goodbye.
Wade spoke as Skip stared. “Miz Win, thank you for getting us here. You, Nettie, Andy, all of you saved us.” Wade nodded at each person as he said their name. “And Miz Nibi.”
Win gave both boys a hug, then offered them seats. Andy motioned for Skip to sit in his chair. Squatting next to the little boy, Andy put his arm around him and talked in whispers. Wade moved a chair close to Nettie.
“Are you okay? They said your leg is broken.”
“It is, but it will be fixed soon.”
“You look pretty beat up.”
“Nothing a little mercurochrome and Epsom salt won’t take care of. Are you all right?”
“Our house is gone. It washed away. Mom and Pop were inside.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Our neighbors, our friends, Miz Nibi—they’re all gone.”
Tears brimmed as Nettie’s heart broke for him. “A lot of good people died last night.”
Wade stifled a sob, rubbing his sleeve across his eyes.
“It’s okay to cry.”
“Folks keep telling Skip and me not to, that everything will be okay. Nothing’s okay. It will never be okay again.” Wade’s eyes were swimming in loss.
Nettie pretended to clear her throat to cover the catch in her voice. “Nibi once told me that tears are what moves sadness from the inside to the outside, where the light can reach it. We have lot of sadness to move outside, don’t we?”
Wade managed a nod.
The sides of the tent ballooned in and out as a helicopter landed.
“Where are they taking you two?”
“To the high school in Amherst. They turned the football field into a landing zone. Our aunt and uncle are coming from Charlottesville to pick us up.”
“I’m glad you and Skip have someone. I think your mom and dad would be glad too.”
Wade’s voice cracked. “My heart hurts so bad. I don’t know what to do.”
Nettie wove her fingers through his. “Yes, you do. You go slow. You take one step at a time, just like when we were dancing. Remember? One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two three. One step at a time. That’s all you have to remember.”
Wade glanced at his little brother. “I guess we can do that.”
Linda reappeared at the door. “Boys, it’s time to go.”
Nettie held on to Wade’s hand as he stood. “Do you remember what else I told you that night?”
It took a moment, but a hint of pink returned to Wade’s cheeks. “That we have a date for lunch on my birthday.”
“That’s right. July fifteenth. Twelve noon. Howell’s lunch counter in Amherst. Don’t stand me up.”
Once Nettie, Win, and Andy were secured in the helicopter, Linda buckled herself in and gave the pilot a thumbs-up. As the aircraft lifted, Nettie pushed to her elbow to look out the window. The surreal world below lay in shades of marl and rust. Half-buried houses and upside-down barns torn from their foundations littered the mountains or bobbed in topsy-turvy pieces in the receding, muck-filled river. Mounds of splintered tree trunks and jagged boulders
the size of railcars clogged the foothills. Embedded along the edges were mangled trucks, farm equipment, furniture, clothing, and unrecognizable things. The guardsmen used binoculars to watch for bodies, radioing to someone on the ground where they were. On a hill in the distance, the tilted cross, as well as part of the roof of the Baptist church, rose out of the water.
“Win, the church—it’s still standing. Maybe they can save it.”
Win leaned over to look out the window. “Nibi said for us to go there when this was all over.” Her voiced trailed to a whisper.
The helicopter rose over naked mountaintops raked with deep, ugly gashes as far as Nettie could see. Avalanches of ancient earth had stripped everything all the way to the river. The destruction of the mountains, all living things, equaled that in the valley.
Neither Nettie nor Win spoke as the chopper crested the peaks and descended toward Amherst. The view from the window changed from unspeakable tragedy to the vibrant colors of summer. One mountain, two worlds. A few toppled trees and swollen creeks were the only evidence there’d even been a storm.
Cars moved along the roads surrounding Amherst. Folks walked the sidewalks, and the Weak and Weary sat idle at the station.
“Look, Mr. Roberts managed to get the train back on this side of the mountain before all hell broke loose.” Nettie thought of all the people scurrying to and from the train just before the storm. He had saved half of them.
As they passed over the Amherst County High School football field, another helicopter sat in the middle of a red cross painted on the grass, its rotors turning in slow motion. Somewhere down there, Wade and Skip were starting a new life, an unwanted one. Weariness closed Nettie’s eyes. Whatever lay ahead for her paled in comparison with what awaited those little boys. She prayed.
Nights were the worst. Once visiting hours ended, Nettie’s back had been rubbed, her sheets had been straightened, and fresh ice packs had been placed around the traction on her right leg, the hospital went quiet and dark, except for the dull glow of an EXIT sign somewhere down the long hall. In the emptiness, nothing held back the memories. Murderous water contorted her arms, legs, and back. Her lungs screamed for air. Searing pain fought with horrifying panic as Mrs. Loving’s face circled her like a moon, and Danes hovered in the shadows. Drenched in sweat, heart pounding, she fought sleep, knowing they’d follow her.