The Surge

by Roland Smith

“We don’t know if Hector’s out there,” Momma Rossi said. “You said you closed the bunkhouse door when you came back into the barn.”

  “I did,” Rashawn said. “But it was open the whole time Chase and I were in there. Hector could have slipped into the barn anytime.”

  “We’ve already been over this,” Momma Rossi said. “You and Chase didn’t see Hector in the bunkhouse.”

  Rashawn took a deep breath to calm herself. “No, ma’am, we didn’t, but he could have gone through the door when we weren’t looking.”

  “Right,” Momma Rossi said. “But if he had, it means he was more interested in getting into the barn than he was in attacking you and Chase.”

  “I guess,” Rashawn said.

  “You’re standing here. No scratches that I can see.”

  “It’s dark,” Rashawn said. “We can’t see anything.”

  Momma Rossi laughed. “You know what I mean, Rashawn.”

  “What are we going to do now?”

  “There’s nothing we can do for Pet without light. So as a precaution, and it’s just a precaution, I think we should head down to the cat cage. It’s made to keep the cats in, but it will work just as well to keep a cat out. I’m going to let your arm go. Do you think you can find the flashlight?”

  “I think so. I’m trying to remember where I saw it before the lights went out.”

  “Be careful not to stumble over Poco. And whatever you do, don’t step into the ring with Pet.”

  “Are you afraid that ol’ elephant might punch me out?”

  “No, I’m afraid that she might kill you.”

  “You’re not kidding, are you?” Rashawn said. “I guess it’d be a shame to be killed by a pregnant pachyderm after surviving the storm of the century.”

  07:06 AM

  Chase and Nicole sloshed to the end of the trailer in water up to their calves. Nicole took the lead with the shotgun. Chase followed, keeping an eye out from behind, with his bare feet numbed by the cold water.

  “Anything?” Nicole asked.

  “Trust me,” Chase said. “I’ll scream if I see a lion.”

  “We’re almost there.”

  Nicole stopped. Chase bumped into her. Neither of them laughed.

  “I’m going to step out from the trailer and circle around for a wider view. Watch my back.”

  “Sure,” Chase said, although he had no idea what he could do to protect her from a lion attack.

  When they had climbed out of the truck, Chase had taken the tranquilizer pistol out of his cargo pocket. Nicole had told him to put it back. She’d said that it would only work at close range. “Also, tranquilizer darts only work fast in the movies,” she’d added. “In real life, it can take twenty minutes for an animal to go down.”

  Nicole slowly stepped around the trailer with the shotgun ready. She and Chase shined their headlamps back and forth through the darkness. Simba was not there.

  “Let’s get the gas and get out of here,” Nicole said.

  Chase released the latch, swung the door open, and switched on the interior lights.

  “Wow,” Nicole said.

  “Yeah,” Chase agreed, looking at the well-organized workshop running almost the entire length of the trailer. He pointed at the far end. “That door past the workbench and tools leads to Tomás’s apartment.”

  “But there’s a sleeper in the truck.”

  “Not very comfortable as permanent sleeping quarters.”

  Chase climbed into the trailer and made his way to the generator while Nicole watched from the door. There were two five-gallon gas cans next to it. He picked them both up, but immediately dropped one as pain shot to his right shoulder.

  I can’t carry both of them, Chase thought. And I can’t let Nicole carry the other. She needs both her hands for the shotgun.

  He walked back to the door with one can.

  Nicole stood on the ground with her elbows resting on the trailer floorboards. She looked as if she were about ready to fall asleep.

  “I thought there were two cans,” she said wearily.

  “One will do. It’ll keep us going for hours. We can come back and get the other one when it gets —”

  Simba was airborne and flying right at him.

  Chase dove down toward Nicole and pushed her to the side. Simba hit the shop floor ten feet past him and slid. Chase rolled out of the trailer and managed to land on his feet. He caught the edge of the door and slammed it shut just as Simba turned around and started his second charge.

  Chase jammed the locking bolt into place and stumbled backward. His knees buckled. He sat down in six inches of water, hyperventilating.

  “Why did you knock me down?” Nicole asked indignantly.

  Chase couldn’t inhale enough air into his lungs to answer her. His heart was beating so hard he thought it was going to explode.

  Simba hit the door from inside and roared. The door rattled but held.

  Nicole jumped back from the trailer, then stared at Chase. “How did —”

  Chase held his hand up for her to wait and slowly got to his feet. He took a couple of deep breaths. “I didn’t knock you down for the fun of it. You missed the leaping lion act. It was pretty spectacular.”

  “What are you talking about?” Nicole said.

  “I saw Simba leaping toward the trailer. I pushed you down and rolled out. I don’t know how I got the door closed behind me. It all happened so fast. If you blinked, you would have missed it.”

  “Lucky you didn’t blink,” Nicole said.

  Chase almost wished he had. The image of Simba flying over his head was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. “I blew it,” he said. “The gas can.” He looked at the trailer door. “I’m not going back in there to get it.”

  “You don’t have to.” Nicole reached under the trailer and picked up the can. “It must have fallen out when you jumped.”

  The trailer door rattled again. “What do you think he’s doing in there?” Chase asked.

  “Looking for a way out.”

  07:09 AM

  Rashawn and Momma Rossi slowly made their way toward the big cat cage at the far end of the circus barn. Rashawn held the flashlight. Momma Rossi held Poco.

  Eyeshine, Rashawn thought. Yellow. I think.

  Rashawn’s father had taught her a lot about tapetum lucidum, or eyeshine, in animals. One of her favorite things to do was drive around with him at night spotlighting wildlife. One of her father’s responsibilities as refuge manager was to determine which animals lived on the refuge. Raccoon, dog, and cat eyes reflected yellow light. Rashawn and her father could tell what an animal was by the height of its eyes off the ground and by how far apart they were.

  She swept the flashlight back and forth. “I just hope that two yellow eyes don’t shine back at me.”

  “What’s that, dear?” Momma Rossi asked.

  “Just talking to myself. I do that when I’m nervous.”

  “I’m nervous too,” Momma Rossi admitted. “But I think we’ll be fine. We’re halfway there. If Hector was in the —”

  Rashawn had stopped. The beam of her flashlight shined on two yellow eyes and a spotted face.

  “Oh my,” Momma Rossi whispered.

  “What do we do?” Rashawn whispered back.

  “No matter what your legs are telling you,” Momma Rossi said firmly, “do not run.”

  That was exactly what Rashawn’s legs were telling her to do. The only thing stopping her was the fact that there was nowhere to run to. Hector was crouched in front of the cat cage, blocking their way to the bunkhouse and the door Chase and Nicole had used to leave the barn. There was the door behind them, but Rashawn doubted they could get to it before the leopard got to them.

  “I’ll take the flashlight. You take Poco,” Momma Rossi said.

  “What’s the plan?”

  “I want you to head over to the ladder by the flier ring and climb up to the platform.”

  “Aren’t leopards good climbers?” R
ashawn asked.

  “They are, but they have to have something to sink their claws into. The ladder is made out of metal. Do you think you can get up there holding Poco?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good.” Momma Rossi took the flashlight and gently handed Poco to her. “I’ll shine the light on the ladder until you start up. Do you think you’ll have a problem climbing in the dark?”

  “I should be okay,” Rashawn said. “If I run into a snag, I’ll tell you and you can switch it on behind me.”

  “Oh, I won’t be behind you, dear.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’ll stay down here and distract Hector while you get up to that platform.”

  “No way,” Rashawn said.

  “There’s no time to debate,” Momma Rossi said. “I’m too old to climb that ladder. I’ve been working with cats since I was a little girl. I can save myself, but I don’t think I can save all three of us. Now go!”

  Rashawn went, but she didn’t feel right about it. As soon as she grabbed the first rung, Momma Rossi swung the flashlight beam away. Climbing in the pitch dark with an injured monkey in the crook of her arm was nearly impossible. Ten feet up Rashawn was sweating and out of breath. She paused and looked down — and what she saw nearly caused her to fall off the ladder. Hector was batting the flashlight around the floor like a cat torturing a mouse.

  The beam went out.

  “Momma Rossi?” Rashawn shouted. “Momma Rossi?”

  There was no answer.

  07:15 AM

  “Stop here,” John said.

  Tomás pulled the van over to what might have been the curb, though it was difficult to tell under a foot of water. They had reached the town of Palm Breeze.

  “I want to check something out,” John said. “It will only take a minute.” He got out of the van, and Tomás and Marco joined him.

  “Let’s see if we can beam some of this video to the station,” Richard said.

  “What do you think?” Mark asked Cindy.

  “I guess it won’t hurt,” Cindy answered. “But I want to be on camera.”

  “We’ll both do the stand-up,” Richard said.

  “Fine.”

  They started putting the gear together while Mark set up the satellite dish.

  John, Tomás, and Marco waded over to a building. John shined his flashlight on the sign.

  “Palm Breeze Middle School,” Marco said. “All my kids have gone here.”

  There was wind and water damage to the main building, but it was in pretty good shape compared to some of the other buildings they had passed driving through town. They wandered farther into the school complex.

  Marco pointed. “That’s the cafetorium.”

  They walked over and John shined his flashlight through the window. “Dry as a bone,” he said. “That’s the strange thing about storm surge. You never know how the water is going to flow.”

  “And hindsight is perfect,” Marco said.

  “Yep,” John agreed. “But I still think Dr. Krupp should have kept the kids here rather than putting them on a bus. This cafeteria is a good five feet above the buildings in front.”

  “She’ll figure it out when she gets back to school,” Marco said.

  Just then, Tomás’s satellite phone rang, which was odd, because the only person who ever called him on it was John. He took it out of his coat pocket and answered. “¿Qué pasa?”

  “Chase?” John asked.

  Tomás shook his head gravely. “No.”

  “How about if we upload all your raw footage and let them edit it at the station?” Richard suggested.

  “Here we go,” Mark muttered to Cindy.

  “I heard that,” Richard said. “I’m not trying to steal anything from you. You’ll get all of the credit. Our viewers want to know what happened during Hurricane Emily. We have an obligation to tell them. I’ll make sure you get the video rights after we air it.”

  “Fine,” Cindy said. “But we need to get moving. I don’t know what they’re off looking at, but when John’s finished he’ll want to get back on the road.”

  They climbed out of the back of the van.

  “Palm Breeze Middle School,” Richard said. “What’s John looking at here?”

  “Who knows,” Cindy said. “At one point last night he and Tomás got down on their bellies to see how a road disintegrates in a Category Five hurricane.”

  “What’s the matter with him?”

  Cindy laughed. “John’s a little different.”

  “Who was it?” John asked.

  Tomás put the satellite phone back into his pocket, then launched into a long explanation in Spanglish.

  “More bad news.” John turned to Marco. “That was Tomás’s brother.”

  “Arturo?”

  John nodded. “He was calling from Mexico City. He drove ahead of the show to set things up for the next date. Unfortunately, the show didn’t show up.”

  “Where are they?”

  “He doesn’t know exactly. No one is answering their cell phones. He thinks they’re outside a city called Puebla.”

  “How late are they?”

  “Twenty-four hours.”

  “How far is Puebla from Mexico City?”

  “It’s only seventy miles, but that’s not the problem. There’s been an earthquake in Puebla. A big one. The city’s a disaster area. And it gets worse.” John glanced at Tomás. “Twenty-five miles east of Puebla is an active volcano called Popocatepetl. Tomás’s family lives in a small village on the side of that mountain.”

  07:23 AM

  “At least it’s starting to get light out here,” Nicole said.

  “And the wind has dropped even more,” Chase added. “We might just live through this storm.”

  “You had doubts?”

  Chase smiled. “You didn’t?”

  They had just waded across the gap. The water in the deepest part had been up to their waists. The semi would never have made it across.

  “After we get the generator filled, will you try to reach your dad?” Nicole asked.

  “If the phone works,” Chase answered, opening the door.

  “Dark,” Nicole said.

  “I wonder how long they’ve been out of gas.”

  They stepped inside and closed the door behind them.

  “Hello?” Nicole called.

  The only thing they heard was Pet pulling on her chain.

  “You think they’re out looking for us?” Chase asked.

  “Hector’s in the barn!” Rashawn’s warning echoed through the metal barn.

  “Where?” Nicole shouted back.

  “Don’t know. I’m up on the flier platform. I don’t know where Momma Rossi is either. I think she’s hiding down there somewhere. She can’t answer back because it’ll give her hiding place away. At least I think that’s the situation.”

  “Stay where you are,” Nicole said.

  Chase sliced his headlamp through the darkness. “How did Hector get in here?”

  “I don’t know, but we need to get the lights on. We need to find Momma Rossi,” Nicole said.

  “You think she’s hiding like Rashawn said.”

  “I hope so. Let’s get gas in the generator.”

  Chase hesitated. “Rashawn is safe up there,” he said. “And Momma Rossi might be fine too. The weather isn’t too bad. Maybe we should go back outside and wait for help. At least that way we’ll be safe from Hector.”

  “No,” Nicole said.

  “I knew you were going to say that, but could you just think about it for a second?”

  “I’ll think about it in the bunkhouse,” Nicole said.

  “Okay.”

  Chase was glad to see that the bunkhouse door was closed, which meant that Hector could not have sneaked inside. They slipped through, securing the door behind them, then hurried past the apartments to the shop.

  “How long will the generator run?” Nicole asked as he filled the tank.

  “Several h
ours. Depends on how many lights we turn on out in the barn. What’s your plan?”

  “Hector can’t get up to the platform where Rashawn is hiding. She’s safe. We have to find Momma Rossi and make sure she’s okay, then we have to contain Hector.”

  Chase put the lid back on the tank, pulled the choke out, and pushed the start button. The generator started purring. He turned to Nicole. “Could you be a little more specific about your plan?”

  “I need to show you how to use that tranquilizer gun,” Nicole said.

  When the light over Pet’s ring came on, Rashawn’s first instinct was to climb down and join Chase and Nicole in the bunkhouse, but two things held her back. One was Hector. The other was Poco. She couldn’t take him with her.

  “Dodging a leopard while carrying a monkey is a very bad idea,” she said firmly.

  She couldn’t leave Poco behind, though. There were no edges on the platform. He might roll off, and, with a broken arm, probably wouldn’t survive the fall.

  “Even if he’s lucky enough to land in that catch net,” she said, peering over the edge of the platform into the darkness, trying to find Momma Rossi’s hiding spot, or a spotted leopard slinking in the shadows. She saw neither. The only thing moving below was Pet.

  “Hector can’t take that big ol’ elephant down. But if she starts to have her baby, he might be able to….”

  The satellite phone rang from its spot on the windowsill.

  No one could reach it.

  “No answer?” Marco sounded sick with worry.

  “No answer,” John confirmed. “How soon do you think we’ll be there?”

  “Fifteen minutes if we don’t run into a snag.”

  John stared through the windshield. The rain had all but stopped, the wind had dropped, and the storm surge seemed to be receding, but the damage had already been done. Palm Breeze was ruined. It would take months, if not years, to recover from Hurricane Emily. There would be a lot of work.

  “But not for us,” John said.

  “What?” Marco asked.

  “Sorry,” John said. “Just thinking out loud.” He turned and looked at Cindy and Mark. “Do either of you speak Spanish?”

  “Nope,” Mark said.