Waves of Fury (Surviving Earth Chronicles)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Kellen

A aron drives us in what feels like circles until he finds an old service station on the side of the road. It’s been closed for decades based on the disrepair and dated signage, but it’ll do for the night. He pulls around to the back so we won’t be seen from the road and then we all pile out of the truck to stretch our legs.

“Me and Tyler will go scope out the inside,” I say to our group as they begin unloading their packs and gear. “We need to make sure it’s safe and there aren’t any surprises hiding for us.”

The two of us make our way to the back door and peer into the dark, clearly abandoned space. Nothing seems to be lurking. Tyler jiggles the door handle, but it’s locked. However, a well-placed kick sends the door flinging open without resistance. With flashlights in hand, we scour over the small building, searching for people and supplies. We find neither. We do, however, find a family of mice who are not happy to be disturbed.

It’s shelter, though.

Not as nice as the last motel we stayed at in St. George, but it sure beats camping out on the side of the road.

Back outside, Wayne limps toward the door, resting most of his weight on Aaron and Dan.

“I’m missing my bed already,” Wayne grumbles.

I feel a stab of guilt at the comment. He wouldn’t have taken a bullet to the ass had I not insisted on leaving comfort for this hellhole on a quest to get to Knox.

“Sorry,” I mutter under my breath.

Tyler nudges me with his elbow. “Why are you sorry?”

He’s trying to make me feel better, but it’s not working. We’re all here because of me.

After we all pile in the small building, Dan blocks the door with a trashcan to keep the weather and intruders out. We all lay out our bedrolls side by side in a long row with me and Tyler on one end and Aaron and Hope on the other. Wayne lies next to Tyler, who makes quick work of gluing Wayne’s gunshot wound shut. Wayne grumbles about the pain, to which Hope gives him more shit for being a baby. Eventually, Wayne is patched up and everyone is ready for bed.

“Let’s all try to get some sleep,” Aaron suggests. “When it’s daylight, we’ll map out a plan and head out again.”

Long after everyone falls asleep and Wayne’s obnoxious snoring echoes around us, I stare up at the dilapidated ceiling as gray light slowly filters into the space.

We have no idea what lies ahead of us.

It could be more of the same—running from hostiles, unpredictable acts of God and insane weather, and injuries we have no business treating ourselves. It’s dangerous and quite frankly, foolish as fuck.

I should have fought harder to make them all stay behind.

By the time morning greets us, I’m completely exhausted from the lack of sleep and a bit cranky. Rather than saying something I’ll regret because I’m in a bad mood, I zip my lips and go through the motions of packing up without contributing with my usual commentary. While everyone chatters away, Tyler keeps stealing glances at me, a frown marring his handsome features. He knows something’s not right. It’s me. I’m not right. I’m glad he doesn’t ask what’s wrong because I’m not sure I can articulate how I’m feeling.

Sleep has nothing to do with it.

My responsibility to this group and Tyler and my willingness to bring them into the heart of danger, are the real problem here.

“It’s warmer than yesterday,” Hope says as Aaron rolls out a Colorado map that the St. George group gave us. “You guys notice that?”

Aaron nods. “I hope it stays that way.”

While Aaron, Dan, Hope, and Tyler discuss possible routes to Kansas, I lean against the side of the truck, listening to Jesse, Wayne, and Hailey chat. She’s decided to ride in back with Jesse today rather than up front with her dad. Pretzel yaps happily, adding in his two cents to the conversation. I don’t say a word, instead listening for sounds of trouble.

The wind is strong today, but Hope is right. It’s not nearly as cold as last night. I can also smell that distinct scent of ozone—right before a heavy summer rain. It lightens my mood considerably. Maybe we’ll be past the shitty weather and the drive to Ransom will be a breeze.

A fat raindrop smacks the side of my nose, cold and stinging. Another one pelts me in the back of the head. Then I feel the prickling sensation as a barrage of drops assault me. Aaron snatches up the map and hops up front, Dan on his heels. The rest of us climb into our usual spots in the bed of the truck, making room for Hailey this time, who sits between Tyler and Jesse. Aaron peels out without warning and then we’re off on the next leg of our journey.

The rain teases us for about five minutes and then the heavens open up, drenching us in a heavy downpour. Despite the warmer temperature, the cold rainwater soaks us all to the bone and I worry how long we’ll be able to endure this. Everyone huddles against one another, using their jackets and backpacks to provide some semblance of shelter.

“We’re going through Elizabeth, Colorado, first,” Tyler tells me through chattering teeth. “Once we’re on the main stretch of highway 70, we’re hoping it’ll be smooth sailing all the way into Kansas.”

So far, there’s been nothing smooth about any of this.

Of course I don’t bring him down too with my sour mood.

“Hey,” he says in a low voice barely heard over the rumble of the engine and torrential rain. “Everything okay?”

“Just tired of this shit.” It’s a vague non-answer, but it’s all I’ve got.

His hand finds mine and he squeezes. “I know. It’s almost over. Another five or six hours and we’ll be there. Everything’s going to be all right, Kell.”

In a perfect world, a drive to Ransom from our current location would indeed only take a few hours. Our world is no longer the perfect one I took for granted. It’s finally deteriorating beyond repair. There will never again be easy or boring days.

Aaron slows as he drives through standing water in the road. It’s only a few inches deep, but he drives with caution. With the rate the rain is coming down, we’re definitely going to need to be on the lookout for flash flooding. Just another day in this new fucked-up world.

We make it to Elizabeth and it’s a ghost town. Storefronts have been boarded up, much like the towns we passed through from San Francisco to Vegas. I’m sure we could break into one of the buildings to look for supplies, but from the looks of it, the people from this town already took anything of value. Soon, we’re on the other side, continuing our drive, this time toward Limon.

Another hour ticks by and we’re at the next decently sized town, Limon. Like Elizabeth, though, it’s been boarded up. Aaron drives up close to the boarded-up service station to read a sign.

Head West to Denver for closest FEMA camp.

So much for that.

The rain continues to beat down on us and we travel through more flooded areas. Thus far, we haven’t had to backtrack or go around any flooding on the road, but I’m not sure if our luck will hold out. Our track record says we’re due to run into some trouble soon. I’m not being a pessimist. I’m being a realist.

Aaron makes another stop in Flagler to fill up with the last of our gas cans, but like the other towns we’ve passed through, this too is boarded up with instructions to head for Denver.

We’ve barely been on the road no more than ten minutes or so when Aaron slows to a stop. A quick glance through the windows shows more water on the road. Slowly, he begins inching his way across the flooded roadway as rain keeps dousing every single thing in our path.

Rumbling starts to shake the truck and the water around us begins sloshing. An earthquake in the middle of a flood. Fantastic. I’m about to state as much when I hear a roaring sound. It’s so reminiscent of the tsunami sound back in San Francisco that I freeze with sudden panic. Tyler’s eyes meet mine and we barely register what’s happening until something crashes into the side of the truck.

A wave of water swells over the side of the truck and fills the bed. Our entire group is in such shock that all we can do is emit startled cries as we attempt to figure out what’s happening.

The truck turns sharply to the right. I quickly realize it’s not turning, but the water is sweeping it away. Clutching onto the side of the truck bed, I try to make sense of our surroundings as we spin uncontrollably. We’re rushing with the flow of the water off the highway and down the embankment, heading to who the hell knows where.

Bam!

I’m jerked hard when the truck T-bones a thick tree. Crunching metal and the groan of protesting wood can be heard above the rushing water. Then, to my horror, instead of the truck going around the tree, it topples over it, which then flips us as well.

As soon as I’m sucked beneath the cold, muddy water, I freeze. Not just because it’s cold, but because I’m reminded of the stairwell in my building—when I’d nearly drowned.

I thrash, unsure which way is up and unable to see through the filthy water, trying to make my way to the surface. Debris scrapes past me and pounds into me as I tumble through the water, useless to stop myself. My lungs burn with the need for air.

Help!

Panic claws at me faster than I can claw my way to draw a breath. Pain burns in my chest as water rushes down my throat and is sucked into my lungs. I frantically thrash, choking on nasty water. Something smacks me in the head and everything goes completely black.

I come back to because I’m vomiting. I’m no longer being dragged through water and am beached beside the rushing flood. Disgusting floodwater spews out of me as I struggle to catch my breath. When I’ve retched it all out of me, I blink away the stars and start searching for the others.

Tyler!

Tears burn at my eyes as I survey the area around me. It’s still pouring down rain, making it difficult to see three feet past me. I can hear someone moaning in pain close by. Giving my head a shake to clear away my daze, I begin crawling toward the sound.

Hope is on her back, cradling her arm to her chest as she whimpers. I scramble over to her, sick with worry.

“Hope,” I rasp out. “Tell me what hurts.”

She chokes out a sob and looks down at her hand. “I think I broke my arm. God, it hurts, Kellen.” Another sob. “Where’s Aaron?”

The panic in her voice sets off my inner panic. I quickly scan our surroundings, looking for anyone from our group.

“Tyler! Aaron!” I croak out, voice hoarse from throwing up muddy water. “Dan!”

No one responds.

Fuck.

“Come on,” I instruct. “Let’s get you to your feet. We have to find everyone else.”

Hope grimaces as I help her stand. We’re both slightly swaying. She holds her arm to her chest and I absently touch the side of my head that’s throbbing. My fingers come back bloody, but the rain quickly washes it away. No time to inspect our injuries. We have to find the others.

The next thing I hear are Pretzel’s howls. His body is buried halfway in the muck beside the water. I quickly squat down to scoop the mud away from him and free the poor pup. He licks at my face until I bark at him to stop. I tuck him under my left arm and wrap my other around Hope to guide her.

After several minutes of walking, we come to the truck sticking out of the newly made river. I set Pretzel down to inspect the vehicle. The cab of the truck is under the water, which makes my stomach twist with worry.

Please let Aaron and Dan have gotten out of there.

I wade through the rushing water, holding on to the side of the vehicle, and then dip down into the water to try to access the doors. Where the window should be, it’s open space. I feel around the seat and am relieved to discover no one is there. I’m just wondering how to get to the other side without getting swept away when I hear Aaron’s voice.

“Hope!”

“Here,” she cries out. “I’m here.”

Aaron and Dan come staggering into view. Dan’s nose appears to be broken as blood continues to pour from it. Aaron has a huge knot on his forehead.

“Where’s everyone else?” I demand.

“We have to find my daughter,” Dan says in a nasal tone. “Where’s Hailey?”

“Come on,” I instruct, picking up Pretzel to hand to Dan. “Let’s keep walking.”

With each minute that passes where we don’t find the others, my hysteria rises. If something happened to Tyler, I’ll never forgive myself for getting us into this mess.

“Help!”

A voice farther ahead chases away the terror in my bones. I take off running toward the sound. I find Wayne treading water, his leg caught behind him on a tree. Each time the water rushes over his head, my heart stops.

“Hold on,” I call out. “I’m coming!”

Aaron comes up next to me and the two of us wade into the rushing water. We flank Wayne on either side. It takes us both lifting up his massive body out of the water so that he can wriggle his boot free of the tree. Finally, after several minutes of this, we’re able to get him to his feet.

“I heard someone crying that way,” Wayne says, pointing farther down the way. “Sounded like Hailey.”

We get Wayne out of the water and over to Hope and Dan before setting off in the direction he pointed. Hailey, like poor Pretzel, is stuck in the mud under some tree limbs. When she sees us, her wailing grows louder.

“Hey,” I assure her. “We’re here now. We’re going to get you out of here and over to your dad.”

“Where’s Jesse?” she asks, sobbing. “He had my hand and then he was gone.”

Aaron grimaces at the mention of his brother. “We’ll find him.”

Together, we manage to pull away all the tree branches and pluck the slight girl from the mud. Once she’s on her feet, Dan shows up, damn near tackling her to the ground as he hugs her. Pretzel yowls between them.

Aaron and I take off again, this time searching for the last of our group. Rain starts coming down harder than before, making it nearly impossible to see and drowning out all sounds.

“Do you hear that?” Aaron belts out, grabbing my arm to keep me from walking. “Over there?” He points across the flooded waters. “Listen.”

We both crane our necks, listening for any sort of sound. Then we both hear it. Yelling.

“Tyler? Jesse?” Aaron yells toward the sound.

Through the downpour, I see two figures waving at us.

“We’re going to swim across!” Tyler hollers back, his voice barely projecting over the rain.

My stomach does a nervous flip. It’s dangerous with how fast the water is flowing and with debris rushing along with it.

Me and Aaron stand there uselessly as Tyler and Jesse start wading into the water. When they’re about halfway, I can tell the water is deeper because they both start swimming. Jesse is the quicker swimmer and is soon wading toward us. Tyler curses, goes under the water, and then bobs back up again farther down the way. I take off running along the bank, readying to fish him. Thankfully, he finds purchase and manages to stagger out of the raging floodwaters. As soon as he’s close enough, I yank him to me, hugging him fiercely, choking down my tears. He clings to me, his entire body trembling.

“Is everyone okay?” he croaks out.

“Everyone’s alive,” I mutter against his head. “Thank fuck.”

I have no idea where we are or where we can take shelter, but all that matters right now is that no one died. It could have gone badly and yet we’re all still standing.

For how long, though?