Then, all at once, we slam into a wall. All of us—Andrew, Daphne, the five kids with her—are a tangle of limbs grasping for purchase. The lights along the wall flicker as car batteries are ripped from their pedestals and the wires soaked.
The floodwater pulls us down the hallway again, and I roll to my knees, lifting the kid in my arms above the waterline. She gasps and cries out, wrapping her arms around my throat.
Next to me, Andrew manages to get to his feet, holding the hands of two of the older kids. But behind us, Daphne is still struggling both to stand in the rushing water and to keep her grip on the two kids in her arms.
I get to my feet, almost losing my balance as a folded cot bangsinto my leg, and wade over to Daphne. Andrew helps me get her up, and the lights flicker again, then send us into pure darkness. The kids scream.
Outside the school, lightning flashes and a gust of wind howls over the thunder and rain.
“We have to get upstairs,” I yell to Andrew.
The lights flicker on but at a low voltage, and I see him nod. I point behind him, down the hallway, where most of the debris is gathering against closed double doors.
“Go!” Daphne yells. The kids are the ones pullingusalong. The hallways sound like an underground tunnel with a freight train barreling toward us. Back the way we came, something crashes, and the ground shakes beneath our feet. I stumble, losing my balance.
As I twist my body, holding the girl in my arms above the water, I feel Andrew’s hands on me, trying to steady me. And when I stand, I see the other two kids, struggling against the current, also trying to help.
I doubt they can hear my thanks, but I catch my balance and move on with them.
Andrew reaches the door first and starts pulling away cots, boxes, insulation, and drywall. I readjust the girl in my arms so she’s on my side, and then try to help. The kids and Daphne are all there, too, pulling things away from the door, but the water shoves it all right back. I stand on a cot, pushing it down, and reach for the door handle.
The door barely budges against the water and debris. Andrew pulls at the jamb, shoving his body into the widening crack to the other side. I imagine something big floating down the hallway towardus, smashing into the door and crushing him, and I pull at his arm, trying to get him away. But he’s so determined he doesn’t notice.
He pushes hard, using the other door as leverage and then pulling the kids to the other side one by one. Daphne ducks under his arms, then he looks at me and the girl I’m still holding.
“Come on, quick!” he says. His arms are shaking. I lean against him, pushing him through as I bring up one of my legs to prop the door open.
Before he can argue with me, I hand the girl over to him. Beyond him, Daphne is already ushering kids toward the stairs. There are more adults there, ready to help them up. Another, even louder crash sounds on the other side of the school, and again the ground shakes.
Andrew takes the girl, giving me an annoyed look. But then his eyes go wide as he looks behind me. “Jamie, watch out!”
I turn to see a wave of floodwater almost as high as the ceiling pushing wood and rubble toward me. With all the strength I can muster, I push the door out and slip through before it can crush me.
As soon as the wave hits the other side, the door splinters and a waterfall bursts from every seam.
“Go!” I push everyone toward the steps.
Behind us, the doors finally give, and the water and wreckage spill into the stairwell. I grasp the railing for dear life as the flood hits us. Andrew is a few steps above me, but he almost loses his grip.
The water passes the top of my head, and something slices into my arm. Burning-hot pain explodes from the cut. More debris brushes against my face and neck, scratching me and probably drawing blood.
I find my footing on the stairs and use the railing to hoist myselfup. My lungs burn as I break free of the water, gasping for air. Andrew is there, waiting for me on the landing, holding out a hand.
There’s blood spilling down the side of his face from a cut above his eyebrow, but other than that he seems to be okay.
I take his hand and he pulls me up, out of the water.
At the top of the stairs there are people handing out blankets and towels. Andrew wraps one around my shoulders. The cut on my arm goes from my elbow halfway to my wrist, but it isn’t deep.
I wrap my arms around Andrew, pulling him to me. It’s strange that we were just talking about our difference of opinion—the wedge driving us apart—and now I just want to hold him and keep him close.
He seems to feel the same way, because he wraps his arms around my middle and holds me tight.
Somewhere down the hallway, glass breaks. Wind whistles through the doors, making me shiver. Andrew squeezes tighter and I rub at his back.
Lightning flashes outside, and we go over to a taped-up window. The area behind the school where the baseball field used to be is flooded. The water churns as the rain continues to pour.
“Come on,” Daphne says, breaking the hypnosis the storm seems to have over us. “Let’s get away from the windows.”
