Page 86 of Desperate Creed

“I didn’t know we had any.” For a second or two he wished he were back there watching with them.

“Is this the exit?” Jason asked.

Creed could see the snapped electrical poles and broken pine trees. They were the new landmarks in a horizon that had been scrubbed of its usual ones. He nodded.

Jason took the exit, slowed and came to a full stop at the intersection despite there no longer being a stop sign. When he turned, he slowed again. Then stopped. Creed didn’t have to ask why. They were far enough away that they were safe, but close enough to see the debris spewing out of the black.

“Son of a bitch,” Jason said, “Looks like it’s already hitting them.”

63

Maggie yelled over the thunder. She gestured and directed whoever would listen to get back against the far wall. They needed to get out from under the cracking floorboards. And they needed to do it quickly.

It sounded like the storm was picking up objects and flinging them back down. The monster clawed and bashed, almost as if it was purposely trying to finish them off.

Debris rained from the ceiling. Beams groaned overhead. Maggie didn’t dare look up. She knew there was no way this basement could sustain the collapsing structure and all those heavy kitchen appliances.

Gus had found dusty old tarps. Maggie held onto the ends while he unfurled each one, trying to cover the others. Stephanie screamed while her son tried to pull her under. Clara and Adele huddled together. Beth and Val made sure Ronald and Frankie were shoved against the wall, up out of the water on the wooden benches.

Gus and Max moved the tall wooden shelving unit, tilting it, creating a teepee to absorb the brunt of the falling debris. Then both men disappeared in the direction of the stairwell; still believing it would eventually become their best path for escape. At one time, Maggie may have agreed, but now in the hazy dim light, she didn’t think any place was safe.

The ceiling was being ripped apart. Just as she found a corner of the tarp and started to get under, she saw a table come tumbling down. She leaned out of the way against the cold concrete blocks, but a heavy object slammed into her arm. She grabbed at the shooting pain.

Debris pelted her. Already she could feel the wind whipping and shredding the thin canvas. And in no time, she was drenched from the down pouring rain. In that brief moment, she realized something—she could breathe again. There was a gust of air, but it came with an electrical charge. And it carried in the odd mixture of pine trees and sulfur.

More debris crashed down. The concrete walls and floor vibrated. Maggie imagined them cracking and caving in around them. She thought she heard someone scream, but it quickly got lost in the roar of the storm.

She closed her eyes and slid to her knees, ignoring the cold water gushing around her. She remembered her initial reaction coming down here and realized it was coming true. They had gone underground hoping to escape, only to be buried alive.

64

Creed gritted his teeth as Jason followed a screaming ambulance. The kid was keeping a safe distance, pulling over whenever another rescue unit with flashing lights raced around them. He was doing a good job, and yet, Creed wanted to tell him to go faster.

Not being in the driver’s seat only seemed to fuel his panic. It wouldn’t let go of him. His hands clasped into fists, only interrupted whenever he scrubbed one of them over his face. His pulse raced. Sweat trickled down his back. He knew he was running on adrenaline. Evidently, not enough because his chest still hurt, and he swore his head was going to explode for a second time in the same afternoon.

Creed kept checking Jason’s cell phone. It had a signal. A strong signal, but there wasn’t a new message from Maggie. He sent another text. He called her number hoping this time it would go through.

No such luck.

She was unreachable. His brain listed all the reasons why, and it kicked up an overwhelming sense of urgency in his gut.

“The mobile cell unit is probably flooded with calls,” Jason told him, reminding him that the cell tower had been demolished in the earlier storm.

“The signal’s strong.”

He knew Jason was trying to stay positive, but Creed had glimpsed the white knuckles of his hand on the steering wheel. He was worried and anxious, too.

What Maggie had said earlier kept running through his mind. He could still hear the tension and fear in her voice. When he told her about more storms coming, she said she didn’t think they could survive another hit.

They had been following the storm, driving into darkness. Headlights—their own and those racing to the scene—provided a limited view. There were no other lights. The electricity had blown out during the first hit. But now, the storm clouds moved on. The sky cleared, and it was still dark. Only then, did Creed realize the sun had already set.

Twilight cast shadows over the devastation making everything look worse. Soon the entire area would be pitch black. Vehicles lined the road, again, jockeying for a better position while trying to stay out of the way of rescue crews. State troopers were directing the chaos. In the glare of the headlights Creed recognized Trooper Sykes. He brought the Jeep’s window down and waved to him. Sykes looked relieved to see someone he knew.

“Hello Mr. Creed. Mr. Seaver,” he said as he bent down and glanced inside the Jeep. He took a second look at Creed and said, “What happened to you?”

“Got caught up in the storm, but I’m okay.”

“Well you guys can relax. I don’t think they’ll be needing the dogs.”