“We could do that.”
“Not if the hundreds of people expected today panicked and headed in that direction,” Auralia countered.
“Iniquus would announce the problem from the stage and talk people through. I’ve seen their work in hundreds of videos,” Kamar said.
“You seem to think I’m suggesting you leave,” Auralia said. “I’m not. I know what Doli and I have trained to stay alive in natural disasters. We’re both whitewater swimmers. I have support here. I don’t know what you know or what skills you have tucked away. I’m simply providing you with this warning because it’s the moral thing to do for a fellow journalist.”
“Doing this search, there’s not much,” Doli said. “A guy up in a cabin says it’s coming down too hard to see to drive, and while he has connectivity, he’s trying to read up on what happened in North Carolina and the mudslides. He’s looking for survival techniques.”
“I looked at the radar earlier, and it says the band of precipitation is still pretty far west,” Auralia said.
“What are the survival techniques for that man in the cabin?” Mohammed asked.
“Pay attention to the warnings and get out in advance,” Doli said dryly. “I know this much: If you have time, open the down slope windows. Move upstairs into an interior room or closet. Unlike an earthquake, you want to stay away from heavy furniture unless you’re sitting on it to get up higher because it can shift and trap you.”
“Jeezis.” Mohammed had yet to drop his hands from his head. He gripped his hair in fistfuls.
“And from there, you listen for sounds that might give you a clue what’s coming next, things like trees snapping or boulders tumbling.”
Doli came from canyon country, and they had flashfloods on the regular. The last time Doli talked about it, she’d told the story of a group of tourists who went hiking and got swept off the cliff wall. Only one survived, and he had all of his clothes and most of his skin abraded away.
“But that’s not here,” Mohammed said.
Auralia’s phone pinged. “Creed sent me this map of river depths,” Auralia held the phone out. “So you see the problem.”
Kamar looked at the phone, then lifted his gaze to look at his cameraman.
“Naw, man,” Mohammed said. “I got nothing.”
“Look down.” Auralia slid the heel of her boot out to scuff the ground. “Clay.”
“I’m from Philly,” Kamar said, “this all means zip to me, Blue Bayou.”
Did Auralia mind that he called her Blue Bayou? He was probably trying to convey that they were teammates of some kind by giving her a nickname. She needed to remember that Kamar spoke English as a second language and nuance was often difficult. She’d let it slide. There were worse things to be called.
Auralia saw the look on the men’s faces that she recognized as the one she often wore when she sat with her mentor and Remi explained the dangers. It was a lot. “Let’s walk through it. Bowls fill with water. That can happen in one of two ways. First, the water from the mountains overflows their banks, flooding the parking lot. But, looking at the river heights Creed sent me, I don’t see that happening.”
“Okay, good,” Kamar said.
Auralia shook her head.
“Something worse?” Mohammed asked. “Aw shit, what?”
“The rainstorm on the radar is heading in our direction. We’ve been in a drought. The clay is baked and can’t absorb moisture. That means the clay turns slick, so no one can get traction as they try to drive up out of the bowl. Imagine all these cars start skidding down the hill and crashing into each other at low speeds. Damage? Some. Not much. People could get trapped, especially if they’re unable—for whatever reason—to get out of their windows or moon roofs. Tow trucks couldn’t get in and deal with it. Nope, if we get a heavy rain here, this is going to be a big ol’ mess. If the rain is coming down hard and we have limited visibility like the guy on his search engine looking for a way to save his life, if I were a betting woman, I would see a slippery hill as the problem.”
“Where’d you park?” Mohammed asked.
“Nose out right by the gate at the top of the bowl,” Doli said.
“All right, yeah, I saw Auralia’s car coming in. We’re a bit lower on the slope than you,” Kamar said. “So water’s coming down, it’s heavy, people run for their cars.”
“Tires are spinning,” Auralia painted the picture. “People are fighting for space to get momentum to get out, they slide like it’s ice, it’s a pile up.”
“Are you positioning to tape and report?”
“Me? In pouring rain?” Doli asked. “No. I plan to be the first car over the bridge.”
“But if we get up on our roof,” Mohammed said, “I’d have a great view of it. After the rain stops, we could even live-stream the aftermath and get eyeballs involved.”
