The Surge Read online

  The four-wheeler was nowhere to be seen. Chase swore, but the word was lost in the wind. Perhaps more disturbing was the amount of water outside. The side of the barn looked like the bow of a ship slicing through flotsam and jetsam on a rough sea. He pulled his head back inside and struggled to close the door, but could barely move it. Nicole and Rashawn leapt to their feet to help him, and after what seemed like forever, they managed to shut the door, getting themselves drenched once again.

  “What happened?” Nicole asked.

  “The four-wheeler must be buried under debris,” Chase answered. “Or maybe it floated away. The balloon tires could have lifted it like a boat in the current.”

  “What do you mean by the current?” Rashawn asked.

  “There’s a lot of water out there. The surge. Flooding. Right now, the only thing keeping the water out of the barn — or most of the water anyway — is the debris. It’s formed a dam.”

  “What are we going to do?” Nicole asked.

  “I guess I’m going to have to make my way to the Shop after all.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Nicole said.

  “There’s no point in that. It won’t take two of us to bring back a can of gas.”

  “What’s it like out there?” Rashawn asked.

  “Not too bad,” Chase lied.

  05:41 AM

  John Masters crawled on his stomach, playing out the steel cable from the power winch bolted to the front of Tomás’s truck, which was still precariously balanced on its side on the old railroad bridge. Cindy and Mark had crept ahead to the end of the trestle and were crouched behind an uprooted tree in a futile attempt to stay out of the vicious wind. The only person who was out of the wind was Tomás. He was behind the steering wheel, waiting for his partner to right the truck. Engines were not designed to operate sideways. Someone had to stay in the cab and play with the accelerator to keep the engine idling. John had once again offered to spell him from behind the wheel, and once again Tomás had refused, adding in Spanglish that he would be grateful if John could get the truck to tip onto the tracks rather than into the swamp.

  John was doing his best. The water was rising quickly. It had almost reached the bottom of the ties. John hoped he had the cable angles figured correctly. He fished the hook under the second rail, attached it back onto the cable, then crawled back to the truck and spoke to Tomás through the smashed windshield.

  “You ready, amigo?”

  “Minute,” Tomás said. He pulled the last two photographs of his family off the dash and put them with the others in a Ziploc bag. “Sí. Ready.”

  “When I get it righted, drive forward just enough to loosen the slack. I’ll spool the cable and jump in the cab.”

  “Vaya con Dios,” Tomás said.

  “Gracias,” John replied.

  He started the winch.

  “Are you sure the camera’s safe?” Mark asked.

  “Strapped in like a toddler,” Cindy answered as she watched John’s headlamp bobbing around the tracks in the dark and the two truck headlights vertical rather than horizontal.

  “You really think we can make a living going freelance?”

  “You mean if we live through this storm?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, it won’t be easy, but I think we can make a living … eventually.”

  “And you think John Masters is a worthy subject of a documentary?”

  “Maybe,” Cindy said. “We’ll have to see how the story develops. You have to admit that it’s been pretty dramatic so far.”

  “I’ve never been more scared in my life,” Mark said. “If that’s what you mean.”

  “Me too,” Cindy admitted. “I don’t think I would have tagged along if I’d known how bad this hurricane was going to be, yet John and Tomás don’t appear the least bit worried.”

  “That’s because they are insane,” Mark said.

  “You’ve got a point, but they have managed to keep us alive.”

  “So far,” Mark said. “But if we don’t get out of here soon, we’ll be swimming to the highway. Did I mention that I can’t swim?”

  “A few dozen times. Look!” Cindy said. “The headlights are horizontal.”

  “Yeah,” Mark said. “But are they right side up?”

  John Masters let out a sigh of relief as Tomás drove the truck forward to give him enough slack to unhook the cable. He spooled it up and climbed into the cab. Inside, Tomás was reattaching his family to the dash.

  05:48 AM

  “You can’t go out there alone,” Nicole insisted.

  She had followed Chase to the door at the far end of the barn.

  “Believe me,” Chase said, “I don’t want to go out there whether it’s with you or without you, but I don’t see any other choice. You and Momma Rossi said there could be a problem if Pet has her calf in the dark.”

  “A two-hundred-and-twenty-five-pound problem,” Nicole said.

  “That’s how much a baby elephant weighs when it’s born?”

  “Give or take a few pounds.”

  “We need light,” Chase said.

  “Let me get the gas,” Nicole said. “I know the farm a lot better than you do.”

  “But you don’t know the Shop.”

  “Back to my original argument,” Nicole said. “We should both go.”

  Chase didn’t like it, but Nicole had a good point. He’d only been on the Rossi farm a day before the hurricane struck. He was certain he could find the building where they had parked their rigs, but if he ran into trouble getting there, or getting back, Nicole would have a better idea about how to get around the problem.

  “And there’s Hector,” Nicole added.

  Chase had forgotten about Hector, or perhaps he had intentionally put him out of his mind. Having an aggressive leopard running loose was something he didn’t want to think about.

  “What are the chances of running into him?” Chase asked.

  Nicole shrugged her shoulders. “Hard to say. With luck he might be hunkered down somewhere waiting the storm out.”

  “And eating Poco,” Chase added.

  “Unfortunately, that meal is probably long over.”

  “What could you do that I couldn’t do if I was unlucky enough to run into Hector?” Chase asked.

  “Hector is not the only reason I want to go with you,” Nicole said. “I need to check on the other animals. If Hector’s out, there’s a good chance other animals are loose too.”

  Suddenly, sitting in a dark barn with a pregnant elephant seemed a lot more attractive to Chase. “What are the chances of Pet having her calf in the next few hours?”

  “Good, according to Momma Rossi,” Nicole answered. “And she thinks there’s a very good chance that Pet isn’t going to take care of her calf. These are not ideal circumstances to have your first baby. If there’s a problem, we’ll have to catch the calf and take it away so it doesn’t get stepped on.”

  “Hard to do in the dark,” Chase said.

  “Hard to do in the light,” Nicole pointed out. “Wait here.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have to get something from the bunkhouse.” She hurried away.

  While he waited, Chase slowly turned the door handle, expecting the door to fly open and hit him in the face. It didn’t. Cautiously he peered out into the darkness with his headlamp, and was pleased to see the downwind side was calm compared to the opposite end of the circus barn. They wouldn’t have to worry about WPPs until they stepped out from the shelter of the wall. There was a lot of water buildup to his left — the same direction they’d have to travel to reach the barn where the Shack & Shop was parked. Between the Shack & Shop and the circus barn were two other barns, one of which was the barn where Hector used to live. Chase’s father had taught him hundreds of survival techniques over the past couple of years, but how to survive a leopard attack was not one of them.

  Chase slowly scanned the windblown darkness with his headlamp, hoping to see the
four-wheeler with its precious load of fuel. There was no sign of it. He was kicking himself for not having had the sense to put it inside the barn when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He ducked back inside and closed the door.

  “How is it out there?” Nicole asked.

  “Not as bad as it is on the other end,” Chase answered as he shook the rain out of his hair. “I should have at least tied the four-wheeler down. There was plenty of time before the wind started up again after the eye.”

  “You couldn’t have known that it would be buried or blown away,” Nicole said.

  “I should have known.” He turned and looked at her. “Is that a —”

  “Shotgun,” Nicole said. “With twelve-gauge double-ought shells. Just in case.”

  “In case of what?”

  “In case of Hector.”

  “Do you know how to use that thing?”

  Nicole pumped a shell into the breech. “Yes, I do, but I hope I don’t have to use it.” She reached behind her back and pulled out a pistol. “If we run into Hector, I’d prefer to use this, but he may not give us a chance. It’s a tranquilizer pistol. I think it’ll fit into one of your cargo pockets. The safety’s on. It won’t go off.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Chase put the pistol in his pocket.

  “Momma Rossi won’t want me to go,” Nicole said. “So I’m not going to tell her until just before we head out.”

  “I don’t want you to go either,” Chase said.

  “I’m going. Ready?”

  Chase turned the handle.

  “I’m going with Chase to get gas,” Nicole shouted over her shoulder as they stepped out into Hurricane Emily.

  “Big surprise,” Momma Rossi said after the door closed.

  “I knew she was going too,” Rashawn said.

  Momma Rossi fixed her dark eyes on Rashawn. “Now that we’re alone, tell me what you and Nicole and Chase are keeping from me.”

  Reluctantly, Rashawn told her about Poco and Hector.

  “Poor little Poco,” Momma Rossi said. “I didn’t see that coming.”

  “I’m sorry about your monkey,” Rashawn said.

  “Exactly where did you see Hector?”

  “I can’t say exactly because I’ve never been here before, but it wasn’t far from the gate we came through. He was headed the same way we were going, but we were faster on the four-wheeler.”

  “He was probably looking for shelter just like you were,” Momma Rossi said.

  “What did you mean by you didn’t see that coming?” Rashawn asked.

  “My mother and her mother had second sight, and it was passed on to me,” Momma Rossi answered. “Their sight was much clearer than mine.”

  “So, you’re a psychic?”

  Momma Rossi smiled. “Part-time, and I’m afraid I’m not very talented at it.”

  “Chase said that you knew Hurricane Emily was going to get your house.”

  “Knew is too strong of a word. If I had known, I wouldn’t have been inside the house when the wind started to take it apart. I would have put Poco in a crate so he couldn’t have run out the front door when we escaped. I would have known that Hector was on the loose.”

  05:52 AM

  “Stay next to the wall!” Chase shouted. “I’ll lead us to the edge of the building, then you can take over.”

  The barn protected them from the brunt of the savage wind, but it was still strong enough to knock them down if they weren’t careful.

  “There’s a lot of water,” Nicole said.

  “I know. I’m worried about it.” It looked like the barn was on the bank of a flooding river. Chase bent closer to Nicole. “The only higher ground than this is where your house is — or was. What’s behind the house?”

  “Woods,” Nicole answered. “And a lake.”

  Chase hadn’t seen the lake the day before. That explained where the water was coming from. “How big is it?”

  “Big. But it’s never overflowed before, and our family has lived here for seventy years.”

  It’s flooding now, Chase thought. Big-time. He visualized the lay of the land, thinking back to the tour Nicole had given him upon his arrival just two days earlier. The road to the farm was below them, which meant that it was probably swamped with water running down to the other lake, where their school bus had sunk. His father and Tomás were not going to have an easy time getting to the farm.

  Chase and Nicole inched their way along the wall to where Chase hoped they’d find the four-wheeler around the corner of the building. What they found instead was a dead giraffe.

  “Gertrude!” Nicole shouted above the howling wind.

  Chase had seen a lot of bad things the past couple years, but the dead giraffe was the worst. There was something terribly wrong with the sight of a fourteen-foot giraffe lying on the ground with floodwater sluicing around it.

  Nicole waded out and put her arms around Gertrude’s long neck, totally ignoring the wind and flying debris. Hesitantly, Chase joined her. He felt bad about Gertrude, but now was not the time for either of them to pay their last respects. He needed to get Nicole out of there.

  “I’m sorry about Gertrude,” Chase said. “But we can’t stay here. We have to move.”

  He glanced to his left just in time to see the farmhouse’s heavy front door and frame cartwheeling its way directly at them. He grabbed Nicole by the arm and yanked her to the side. The door clipped one of Gertrude’s front legs, snapping it like a brittle branch, then sailed off into the night.

  “That was close.” Nicole shuddered. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. Now let’s get out of here before the next WPP comes barreling down this wind tunnel.”

  “Gertrude’s still warm. She couldn’t have been dead very long.”

  “Can we talk about Gertrude once we get inside the next building?”

  “Sorry.”

  They didn’t get very far. Halfway to the second building, they came across a lion. It was not dead.

  05:53 AM

  “I vote for going to the shelter,” Mark said. “At least long enough to get some coffee and use the bathroom.”

  “It would give us a chance to check up on the latest hurricane reports,” Cindy added.

  John hated to backtrack, but he had to agree: Going to the emergency shelter was probably their best option at the moment. They needed to check the truck out. Something was wrong with the steering. Tomás was having a difficult time keeping the 4×4 on the highway, and it wasn’t just because of Hurricane Emily.

  A police cruiser with flashing lights marked the road to the emergency shelter. The policeman stayed inside his car, waving them past with a flashlight. The road led them to a large high school gymnasium. The parking lot looked as if the state basketball tournament were being played.

  “A lot of people didn’t make it home,” Cindy said.

  Mark pointed. “There’s a parking spot.”

  Tomás drove by the empty spot, then passed up three more.

  “Where are you going?” Cindy asked.

  Tomás didn’t answer.

  John switched on a spotlight outside the passenger window. “Before we go inside we need to circle the building and check for structural damage.”

  “The gym’s made out of concrete,” Mark pointed out.

  “Water can take down any building regardless of the material,” John said. “Water’s the most powerful thing on earth. The Grand Canyon was created by water.” He swung the spotlight between the foundation and the roofline as they slowly circled the building. When they got back to the parking lot he switched the spot off.

  “Well?” Mark asked.

  “So far so good,” John answered. “Hope you brought rubber boots.”

  “I can’t remember the last time I was dry,” Mark said.

  Tomás parked the truck, jumped out, then disappeared from sight.

  “Where’d he go?” Cindy asked.

  “Under the truck. Something’s broken. Why don’t you and
Mark head into the gym? Tomás and I will be in after we figure out the problem. Watch out for WPPs. And when you get inside find a spot near one of the exits to hang out. You’ll want to be near a door if the building starts to collapse.”

  “Good safety tip,” Mark said.

  He and Cindy waded through the ankle-deep water to the gymnasium.

  05:56 AM

  “Don’t move,” Nicole said.

  Chase wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or to the lion, but he froze in midstep just to be safe.

  Nicole put her lips close to his ear and whispered, “It’s Simba. He can’t see us.” Her warm breath sent a shiver down his neck, or maybe it was the lion’s unblinking eyes drilling into him. “Our headlamps are blinding him,” Nicole continued. “We’re downwind, so he can’t smell us either. And he can’t hear us with the wind rattling the metal buildings. He’s as confused and frightened as we are.”

  Simba was standing fifteen feet away and did not look confused or frightened to Chase. He looked hungry and impossibly big. Nicole had told him the day before that Simba had been retired from the circus after mauling his trainer. If Simba was loose, the other lions might be loose as well. Three females and one immature male. Simba was twice as big as the young male. Right now, he looked like he was ready to pounce and tear them to shreds.

  “On the count of three we’ll turn our headlamps off,” Nicole whispered. “While Simba’s eyes adjust back to the dark, he’ll be temporarily blinded and we’ll run over to the next building.”

  Temporarily blinded? Chase thought. How long does temporary last?

  Nicole was cradling the shotgun in her arms, which seemed like a better, and more permanent, solution to their lion problem than turning their headlamps off.

  “… three,” Nicole said.

  What happened to one and two?

  Chase switched his headlamp off a second behind Nicole. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to the left. Simba might have been temporarily blinded, but so were they. Chase couldn’t see a thing. He allowed Nicole to drag him into the darkness.