Taken by Storm

by Tamara Mataya

  “Yeah.” Craig focused on the table. “The town’s not going to be the same.”

  “Not for a long time,” Ronna agreed.

  If ever. “Did you see any other people?” Leila needed to think about something else.

  “Yeah, there were a few people whose cars hydrolocked, and they had to hoof it through the water. Few blocks over, I saw a couple guys in a canoe, but they weren’t rescuers. Just a couple guys checking things out.”

  Ryan shook his head. “That’s so fucking dangerous. I bet they weren’t even wearing life jackets.”

  “No, they weren’t.”

  “And chances are they’re going to tip at some point, probably need rescuing themselves, and some of our guys will have to pull their dumbasses out of the water, all because they wanted to go paddling around mid-natural disaster.” Ryan’s anger was understandable to Leila, having heard similar stories from her brother and dad about rubbernecking idiots turning minor accidents into major ones.

  And this situation was a disaster to begin with. What was worse than a disaster? A catastrophe?

  “What’s it like out there, Craig?” She hadn’t meant to ask, but she had to know what it was like.

  Everyone stilled, turning to Craig like flowers to the sun, waiting for things to be all right a couple blocks over where they couldn’t see, needing a happy delusion.

  “It’s worse that you probably think.”

  “You mean, ‘better?’” Ronna asked.

  “No. Worse. Way worse. I can’t even … I mean, I can’t even tell how far east the water goes, how much is flooded. There’s no one out there. Other than those guys in the canoe, there’s no one. It’s dead. Quiet except for the rain and the rushing water. We’re not a bustling metropolis, but I never realized how much activity went on in an average day until being out there in this. It’s a ghost town.”

  “What about damage?” Ryan broke the tense silence that followed Craig’s words.

  “That’s the one good thing—you can’t see the damage. Everything’s still under water.” Craig shook his head and slumped farther in his chair. “There’s water up to the windows on all the buildings on Third. Evy’s cafe, the doctor’s office, the art gallery. Wilson’s music shop. They’ve all got to be flooded—it’s not like they’re watertight. The ones I peeked into looking for people were all full of water, but no people to be seen. Thankfully. Looks like everyone got out in time.”

  “Why wasn’t there a warning put out? Why were we allowed to come downtown at all?” Ronna flushed with anger.

  “They knew the river was flooding, but no one could have predicted this,” Craig said.

  “Not actually true,” Wallace corrected. “They have measuring equipment upstream, and everything’s hooked up with HAM radio. Someone would have known there was more water than usual. The question is; why didn’t they do a damn thing about it?”

  Someone knew this was on its way and did nothing to warn the town? “Why didn’t anyone come warn us here?” Disbelief pushed through Leila’s horror. “Even just us downtown.”

  “No time, I guess.” Ryan’s jaw was tight. “When I talked to the station, they were sandbagging. I guess they were too busy doing that to do anything else.”

  “The guys in the canoe said they saw the fire department re-routing traffic near the hospital for a while. But that was before the water got too bad for people to drive through it.”

  Red seized on this. “Where were the people going? You said that there were people whose vehicles broke down—where were they going when they got out of their cars?”

  Craig nodded. “I guess they were headed toward the river, hoping that’s where rescues would come from.”

  “Stupid to head toward the source of the water,” Wallace’s tone was angrier than Leila had heard. “You don’t rush toward the danger when it has no weaknesses. You find a bunker, and hold tight.”

  “Exactly,” Ryan agreed. “I get that it isn’t the happiest choice, but it’s really the only one we’ve got. Safety has to be the first priority.”

  “I wonder what’s happening out there though, across the river. They know we’re here, and others must be out there too needing help. Who’s in charge?”

  Wallace answered Ronna. “Typically, the mayor. But when it’s a natural disaster, the fire chief is the one in charge—they’re the ones who know the proper procedures to follow. Unless there’s politicking, Shawn will be running the show.”

  Ronna nodded. “Can’t think of anyone better for the job. He’s got his head on right. And—” she nodded at Ryan, “with one of his own here, there’s no way we’ll be forgotten about.”

  Leila didn’t state the obvious: That it’s no good for people to remember your location if they can’t get there to rescue you.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Three hours later, what little optimism Ryan had was ground down to the nubs, along with the rest of the group’s patience. They’d cleared up the leftovers and dishes, and sat around talking, which had quickly degenerated into arguing with Faux-Hawk again, so Red and Faux-Hawk had buggered off to play more darts with Craig.

  Ryan idly racked up a game of pool and sank a few balls. He wasn’t into it, but it was better than staring out the window. The pool table was set back in a little alcove away from the rest of the bar. It was private, but he could see over the dividing wall. He didn’t like the looks Faux-Hawk kept shooting at him, but there was no point doing anything.

  He leaned against the table with his back to the rest of the group. Just more inactivity, ignore the douchebag, sit tight and wait for help. His hands gripped the pool cue so tightly it made his hands hurt. Closing his eyes, he counted slowly to ten, breathing deeply. When this was over, he was going to sleep for a week. Shame filled him. He was tired? How about the overworked guys at the station? Guys sick with the flu who’d probably been called to get out there and help.

  “I’ve heard some animals can sleep standing up, but I’ve never seen it done until now.”

  A small smile found its way to his lips. “Are you calling me an animal?”

  Leila grinned. “Maybe. Yes.” And just like that, last night was staring them in the face. She mimicked his posture beside him and leaned closer. “You look tired.”

  “I am tired.”

  “Something keep you up last night?” She traced a line with her fingertip up his wrist.

  Where had this woman been all day? Desire spiked his energy levels like an espresso drip. Her touch was so gentle and innocent, but it brought back the X-rated memories of last night. She stared at his mouth when he bit his lip, and leaned into his hand as he ran it up her arm, to her shoulder, traced his fingertips up her neck—

  “Hey, can I talk to you guys for a second?”

  Ryan jerked his hand back like he’d been burned. No! Piss off, old man! “Sure, Wallace, what’s up?”

  “Well, we’ve been talking. And we think the time’s come to maybe get out of here.”

  Ryan had been expecting it but wasn’t happy. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Fact is, maybe help can’t get to us where we are. Maybe if we can get a few blocks one way, and a few blocks up, we could hit the traffic circle and higher ground. At least we might be able to flag someone down.”

  Leila nodded. “I’ll go talk to Ronna.” She tossed back over her shoulder.

  “You’re sure about this? Everyone wants this?”

  Wallace leaned closer. “To be honest, I’d rather stay. But Craig’s going for sure, and the hedgehog-looking kid. The girl said if he goes she’s going. Ronna told me if the redhead goes, she has to go—has to do the right thing by Broca.”

  “Her friend—Red’s Aunt?”

  “Yeah. Sentimental and stupid, but there it is. And if Ronna goes, I’m going. I can’t let her go in that parade of idiots without being there to make sure she’s okay.”

  “I’m not in. I can’t be.”

  Wallace nodded. “Figured you’d stay. Is your lady friend staying with y
ou?”

  “Whether or not she knows it, yes.”

  “We’ve been gathering a few provisions on the sly—not to cause a ruckus, but so as to have things ready in case it hit the fan. Better to be prepared.”

  “I get that.” Ryan sighed. A flurry of activity back at the table caught their attention. While Wallace was talking to Leila and Ryan, Ronna had told Faux-Hawk, Red, and Craig—to their delight. “Keep them safe, alright? And if anything happens, try to get back here to me. Might be quicker than finding someone else.”

  “I will. I may be old, and I may be a fool for going with them, but I ain’t an old fool!”

  Ryan shook his hand. “It’s been a pleasure being trapped with you, Wallace.”

  “Likewise, son. Take care of her. Don’t let her get away.”

  “Oh, no, we’re … ”

  But Wallace was already on his way back to the table to get ready. How the hell could he convince Leila to stay where she was, rather than leave? He walked over to the table, frantically trying to think up something foolproof.

  Leila dug in her purse. “Ronna, are there any sandwich bags? The water’s deep, but if we put things like cell phones and wallets in a plastic bag, then we can put those in a pocket, or purse, and they will stay dry and won’t get wrecked—”

  “—while letting us keep our hands free,” Wallace finished.

  “Exactly!” Leila smiled at him. “I mean, hopefully we won’t, but we might need both hands for swimming.”

  Over Ryan’s dead body was she leaving. “Leila, can I talk to you for a second?”

  “Sure.”

  He led them a few paces away and spoke quietly. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  ***

  Surely she’d misheard that. “What?”

  “You’re staying here with me.”

  She felt breathless with anger and disbelief. A moment ago they’d been about to kiss. Now he was dropping this on her? “You know, that sounds suspiciously like an order.”

  “It’s not an order, it’s a fact. There’s no way I’m going to let you go out there, Leila.”

  Let? She jammed her hands into her back pockets to stop herself from strangling him. “Who the hell do you think you are, thinking you can boss me around?”

  He glanced over her shoulder at the others in the room and pulled her a little farther away for privacy. “I can’t stop them from making a huge mistake by going out there, but I’ll be damned if I let you put yourself at risk.”

  “And how are you going to stop me, Ryan? Because short of clubbing me over the head, or tying me up—”

  “I’ll tell your brother.”

  The bastard. “You wouldn’t!”

  “I so would. He’d probably shoot me anyway if he got here and found out I’d let you wander off into the dark, mid-flood. And there’s no way I wouldn’t tell him you’d been here and left. He’d be furious at me for letting you go.”

  Leila smiled meanly. Maybe he deserved to be shot, overbearing asshole. “So?”

  “Oh, I’m not counting on you giving a crap about me. But you have to know that if he thinks you’re out there somewhere, he won’t stop, won’t eat, sleep, or rest until he’s found you safe and sound.”

  It was true. Kyle had always been overprotective—and that was when she was perfectly safe. He’d lose his freaking mind if he knew she was out in the flooded town, in the dark with no real equipment for protection. And when he found her after, he’d kill her for making him worry. Hell, she didn’t even have shoes that protected her feet. Stupid sandals.

  Ryan had her in a stranglehold.

  And oh, she itched to wrap her hands around his neck and strangle him. She gritted her teeth and tried not to scream her frustration. He must have seen her reluctant silent acquiescence because he nodded once.

  Not trusting herself to speak, she followed him back to where the others continued their final preparations; tightening shoelaces, tucking cell phones and wallets in plastic sandwich bags before zipping them carefully into pockets, or in Red’s case, her purse. She should be going with them. Kyle didn’t even know she was there. For all he knew, she was safe. Somewhere dry and warm, and Ryan was the only one who could burst her brother’s bubble of ignorance.

  And he would. Leila had seen it in his eyes. Not only was he the same competitive, stubborn jerk he’d been in high school, he was driven by the same need to keep people safe as her brother was. The same protective instinct her father had, and though she knew it must be driving him insane that he couldn’t force the group to stay where they were safe, she still longed to be leaving with the others.

  “What’s up?” Wallace finished with his shoelaces and turned to her with a frown.

  “I’m not coming along.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s obvious,” Faux-Hawk drawled. “She wants to stay here with loverboy.”

  “Oh my fucking God, maybe I’d rather stay here forever than spend one more minute with you! Your mouth has been spewing annoying bullshit since the water came! You’re one of the most annoying people I’ve ever met!” True, and not that rude, and it felt amazing to lance that boil. But Leila still felt like a jerk once she’d said it. “No offense.”

  Ryan snorted.

  “You sure you want to stay?” Ronna’s voice was mild, but Leila saw the quick look she gave Ryan. She probably thought he was forcing Leila to stay somehow, especially after the little talk they’d had a moment ago.

  “I’m sure. My brother will probably be one of the guys coming to rescue us. If he found out I was somewhere safe and then left, he’d kick my ass as soon as he caught up to me.”

  “If you’re sure?”

  Leila nodded and squeezed Ronna’s arm. “I’m sure. And we can tell them you’re out there—if you guys haven’t made it to safety by then, we might be coming to you!”

  “Leave us some room in the boat!” Wallace laughed.

  “Here.” Ronna held out one of the flashlights. “Take this.”

  Leila shook her head. “No, you take it, you—”

  “I insist. You never know—maybe you can use it to flag down rescue if they happen to be passing by.”

  “But there are four of you, and you’ll be walking around.”

  Wallace held up a small square gray object. “My keychain. It’s actually a small crank flashlight. It’s waterproof, and as long as I can crank at it, she’ll never lose power! We’ll be fine. Take the flashlight.”

  “Fine, but give us the smaller one.” Ronna took back the big one and handed Leila the small titanium flashlight.

  “Deal.” She rummaged around in her bag and began putting items in a small bag. “Take this too. Some first aid stuff. Nothing fancy, some gauze, and alcohol spray. Tape. But that water’s gonna be full of germs. You get cut, spray the crap out of it with the alcohol, and bandage it up.”

  “I’ve got it covered,” Ryan said. True, he was a first responder. The jerk.

  “Thanks, Ronna.” Impulsively, Leila hugged her.

  Soon it would just be her and Ryan alone in the dark until help arrived.

  Her anger would keep her warm.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The water had gone down about an inch—it no longer spilled inside when they opened the door to let the group of five out. But an inch, compared to the four feet that still flowed down the street, was nothing. Ryan wanted to scream at them to stay, but he’d already said everything he could to persuade them not to go. Anything further was overstepping his bounds and doomed to fail anyway. If they really wanted out, he couldn’t physically restrain all five of them—six if Leila joined in.

  It was nearing seven p.m. when they finally said their last goodbyes and, wearing slickers made from garbage bags with strategically cut holes, walked out the door and waded down the steps. Ryan re-locked the door behind them.

  “I can’t watch.” Leila moved away from the window, but Ryan couldn’t tear his eyes from their slowly retreating forms, disappearing into the
murky evening. The water rose to their chests at first, then their waists as they got to the middle of the street. His mouth was dry. What if he’d made a mistake in letting them go without him? Had he made a mistake by forcing Leila to stay? He glanced back to where she sat at the table. She didn’t even have shoes for fuck’s sake. He’d made the right choice. For both of them.

  The group was gone when he looked out the window again. Wallace told him they’d retrace Craig’s steps, as they knew that way had been passable, and since the water hadn’t gotten any higher it should be fine.

  For better or worse, he and Leila were alone and he had no idea what to say to diffuse her anger. Talking right now would only get him in trouble, so he walked behind the bar to grab a ginger ale out of the fridge. More alcohol wasn’t good—if something happened he wanted a clear head. Her foot tapped a staccato beat on the floor, betraying her high-strung state. She had gorgeous calves. Yeah, a drink was definitely a bad idea. Hell, she clouded his senses enough when he was sober. No need to add fuel to that bonfire.

  “Leila, do you want anything to drink?”

  “Oh, you’re asking me to make my own decisions now? Why not just throw a can of whatever you think is best for me at my face? I’ll try and catch it. If that’s allowed.”

  Ryan sighed. It was extreme, but would he feel any different in her situation? Maybe not, but he wouldn’t be such a baby about it. “You know I couldn’t let you go out there. It wasn’t the right thing to do.”

  She rose and stormed toward him, gripped the edge of the bar, digging her nails in. The fury in her eyes made him glad there was a solid wood counter between them. “Are you kidding me? You blackmailed me, and you want to talk about doing the right thing?”