Approaching Menace (32 page)

She had been showing an elderly woman a watch when the lights went out. Then people sounded the alarm. Her customer ran off into the cavernous black, but within minutes, wane emergency lights kicked on. Someone yelled that heavy outer bands of squalls were reaching Windswept.

“I have to get home,” Sylvie cried.

“Me too,” a man near her said. Weak glows spotted the long corridor. Sylvie scuttled to where people were scrambling and crowding into the center court. Concerned voices rose. Intermittent grating noises came of gates rolling down, locking the emptying stores.

Sylvie elbowed through throngs of noisy people, all of them trying to do the same thing. She bustled her way through many when a bullhorn ordered quiet.

Voices were still heard, but the person with the horn announced louder, “Leaving is not advisable right now.”

Dozens of voices swelled to complain.

“At least one tornado just came through Windswept.” That announcement made people utter, then grow silent. “And more have been spotted near us,” the unseen speaker said.

“I need to get home.” “I have to get out of here.” “I’m not going out there.” People called out and some swore. Throngs headed for exits.

“Deputies are around the exits and throughout the mall,” the announcer said through his bullhorn. “Everyone is advised to stay calm. No one should leave. There are downed trees and live wires blocking many roads.”

“I’m not about to go out there,” said a beefy man Sylvie passed. She pushed through a mass of people standing near a door.

A policeman touched her arm. “Where are you headed?”

She gave her address, and he glanced at a pad he was holding. “Everything’s blocked over there.”

“Blocked? But I need to get to my family.” She brushed past him.

“Lady, you could never get through. Most of the streets between here and there are flooded. You’d get stalled in your car and put yourself in extreme danger.”

Terror gripped Sylvie. She’d had no idea things would be so bad. Lately she’d paid little attention to the weather. “But I can try. My children….”

“It won’t do them any good if you get killed.” He turned his focus to others who pressed nearer. Asking where they’d be headed, he checked his pad to note the advisability of their going in that direction.

Sylvie reached a spot where she could see out the open doors. Three people elbowed past. Others stood like she did, staring out at the black night. She could see no lights. Sheets of rain fell at an angle. The few cars she could make out looked like they had been dropped into a black swimming pool.

More than anything she had ever wanted, she yearned to get out there. To reach Colin and Josie and take care of them.

“You’d never make it,” a small voice near her said. It was Sylvie’s friend Tina who worked in the bookstore. Her friend also looked sad. She held a cell phone and let Sylvie take it.

Sylvie tried calling her home. She heard a buzz and dialed again. More buzzing.

Lines were down, someone just said.

Limply, she returned the phone. A man bustled out past them, and she watched the wind pushing him, forcing him sideways.

Sylvie felt hot within the mass of people huddled inside the door. Voices swelled and hushed as viewers saw the man outside scrambling, getting knocked to his knees in the dark water. He floundered, then rose, his figure disappearing into the night.

“Colin,” Sylvie whispered. “Josie.” Her mind formed pictures of them both smiling. She felt wind gusts shaking her and recited prayers for her children.

* * *

Josie and Colin were well under way when he asked, “Where’s Annie?”

She looked at him, her vision hazing over.

He leaned toward her. “Josie, Annie called you. Where is she?”

She returned her gaze to the road. The rain struck harder. It slashed against the windshield. The wind was holding the wipers back, making them hesitate. Dully, she replied, “Annie’s with her mother.”

“Oh.” Colin surely had more questions. He kept them inside and pressed his head back.

“Electricity might be out for hours or days,” Josie said, making herself concentrate on the bleak road her headlights swept across. “So all you have to think about is getting to the hospital for a treatment.”

The streets were half hidden beneath water. Branches and other debris lay scattered on nearby lawns. Every house sat in darkness, except for two or three with small glows at their windows.

“There’s some lights,” Colin said, pointing.

She scanned their surroundings, hoping to see more. Maybe street lights. Houses all aglow.

Instead she saw blackness. It was difficult to see where a street ended and she reached a corner. “Those people have generators,” she said.

As they reached the highway, wind and rain again slackened. She felt her tangled nerves loosening, especially when she spied a stately house on the levee with lights on in its two stories. Between gloomy dark structures and some with boarded windows, this house looked so appealing, Josie was tempted to stop there.

But her purpose was to get Colin to the hospital. His blood needed purifying. And needed it now.

“Did you see that house?” she asked.

When Colin didn’t answer, she glanced at him. He slumped against the far door, his face looking blanched with a gray pallor.

She reached out and tapped his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

His eyes seemed sunken. His gaze slid toward her and his head slowly bobbled.

She rubbed his arm. “We won’t be long.” Hoping she’d told the truth, she turned her attention to gripping the wheel with both hands and driving.

The road was becoming more hazardous. She was driving through an area where branches from huge oaks were down. Patio chairs and unrecognizable items lay along the roads as if a giant had tossed them around. In one spot she drove through, water splashed so high and her car dropped so low it seemed a wet hole would swallow them.

Water had splashed that high from a road before, she remembered. During the ride home from the party when the girl died and Josie squeezed against her friend in the car, praying her own parents would arrive right away to take her home.

“Five four three,” Josie whispered now, the same terror she’d known then returning. She scanned the roadway. Thunder rumbled. More water splashed on her windshield.
I’m the adult now
.

She made herself swallow the dryness and forced her concentration on their surroundings. They passed few cars. Most people must have listened to emergency information. They would’ve been told to stay inside and avoid the roads.

Of course she hadn’t listened to their portable radio. She had been jostling with her neighbor.

Josie’s gaze swept back to Colin. He looked listless. His eyes were shut. His breathing seemed shallow. Poisoned impurities were settling inside him instead of moving out through his blood stream. He could be going into a coma.

Forget Randall Allen. Forget this weather. Get your brother to safety!

She shoved the accelerator. She wouldn’t turn on her radio now. It might tell her not to go where she needed to reach.

Wind battered her side of their car as Josie thought she reached a corner. Tightening her grip on the steering wheel, she yanked back to keep from being shoved off the road. New squalls were blowing in. Even with all the windows closed, she smelled sea air. Swells from the gulf swallowed the beach. Water rushed over most parts of the highway.

Seeing only rain through the blackness, Josie barely slowed at a flooded intersection. Her car dropped into water that appeared deeper than the bottom of her door.

A flash of light came into her rearview mirror. The car behind theirs seemed out of control with its headlights rushing toward her. Those lights glittered.

Her heart thrust with great strokes. Was Randall Allen in that dark sedan?

Water splashed up to her window. Her car hesitated. “Don’t flood now,” she pleaded, her gaze sweeping to her slumped brother.

The headlights behind glistened, bumping closer.

In her rearview mirror Josie watched them fall back. The car turned. Water splayed from its tires like a speedboat creating a massive wake.

She struggled to stop shaking and force her thoughts ahead. St. Elizabeth’s Hospital couldn’t be that far. But with this whole region drowned in darkness, she couldn’t be certain where she was.

The wind shoving her car let her know a band of squalls, or possibly worse, was reaching Windswept. Treetops bent over. Light posts leaned around the highway with wires precariously dangling. The wan headlights of a car steadily following a block or more behind caught in Josie’s rearview mirror.

Colin’s chin rested on his chest.

“Colin. Hey buddy,” Josie said, her voice catching in her throat. She shook her brother’s shoulder.

His head lolled to the side against his door.

Wind trilled and buffeted her little car. Whitecaps swept over the highway. Josie’s damp fingers clutched the steering wheel. Everything looked so different. Suppose she had missed her turnoff and was heading toward Mobile? There would be hospitals, but could she find them? And it was too far. And the roads were probably worse since that was where the hurricane’s full force had headed.

Tightness inside her throat thickened. She craned her neck, searching for familiar landmarks. A death sensation wracked her, exactly as it had that long-ago afternoon.

Emitting a groan, Colin fell sideways toward the seat.

Josie floored the accelerator. Her car barreled into deeper water.

Rain slashed her windshield in sheets. “Don’t quit on us now,” she said, urging the hesitating windshield wipers to clear her view faster. She forced her eyes to focus on the dark brooding structures set back from the road. Those had to be houses. Smaller mounds must be bushes. The drenched road before them seemed endless.

Stretching her arm, she laid her palm on Colin’s back.

His breathing felt scant.

Wind shaking the car made Josie again grip the wheel with both hands. She had to find help. Soon.

Louder noise than before came with an even heavier downpour. The scene outside blurred into dark swirls.

A street sign was violently shaking at what appeared to be a corner. Josie slowed. She could make out a few letters. “Yes,” she said, turning onto Essex Street.

Her car shot toward the structure ahead.

“Colin, we’re here.” She patted his leg.

He didn’t move.

St. Elizabeth’s Hospital resembled a lighthouse between tall pine trees in the short sea ahead that must be road. Beams of light excited Josie. They sprinkled from windows and an emergency entrance. Driving nearer, she could see someone in white helping an elderly couple up a wheelchair ramp. “We’re safe,” she whispered, her chest muscles loosening.

Her small headlights sliced a bluish haze as her path narrowed to the hospital.

The three people going inside turned back, all of them looking up.

Wind whisked against their car and a locomotive sounded. Sound exploded. People screamed. Pine trees near the hospital looked like snapped beans.

Josie pulled to the wheelchair ramp, throwing the shift in neutral. Spying something falling toward her window, she glanced up.

The top of a tree came smashing toward her car.

Chapter 25

Sylvie barely noticed sunlight splashing in through windows. Light trickled along the sterile-scented halls of St. Elizabeth’s.

Near her, a nurse paused to direct a visitor and then traipsed down the corridor, her white cushioned shoes sucking on vinyl. Sylvie stood outside the door of Room 211. The woman she embraced felt solid, making Sylvie strangely comforted instead of the other way around, as she intended. But of course, during that storm, both of their worlds had been shaken.

They squeezed each other, a shared gesture of concern, and then let go. She watched LauraLee Allen again use tissue to dab her eyes. Still LauraLee’s tears dribbled down her pale cheeks.

“Thank you,” Sylvie whispered, aware that a thank you was so little for what her neighbor had given. How could you ever tell another person what this meant? What her contribution would mean for Sylvie’s whole family?

LauraLee nodded. Between blowing her nose and sniffling, she attempted a smile, her wide mouth only creasing in a slant. “He was too afraid—to do it—himself.”

Sylvie squeezed her hand.

LauraLee whimpered. She blew her nose. Gaining composure, she said more. “Randall didn’t want your family to know he was so frightened.”

Sylvie rubbed her neighbor’s arm. “I understand.” Yes, she did know many people feared donation. Even she had felt afraid when she’d been tested. She had wanted so much to give Colin her kidney. At the same time she had dreaded the ordeal.

She recalled how devastated she’d felt once they discovered she couldn’t be a donor.

“Randall’s mother used to say he was a scardy cat,” LauraLee said, shaking her head. “She sure was a mean woman.” Her tears overflowed.

Sylvie cried too and embraced her again. “What you did was so generous.” The soft woman shook while sobs wracked her body. Sylvie would need to get to know her better, if LauraLee didn’t move back home, as she’d mentioned she might do now.

LauraLee rubbed her red eyes. “I wouldn’t have let anyone else have it.”

Sylvie nodded. Everything she was feeling seemed too overwhelming to put into words. But she needed to try. “Because of you and your husband….” She swallowed what felt like a huge ball. “Because of you, my son will live.”

Watery fluid gathered beneath LauraLee’s nose. She swiped there with her tissue. “I hope Colin does well. I am so glad Randall matched.”

Sylvie nodded.

LauraLee’s head bobbled, her eyes glazing. “I just wish we knew why.” Her voice cracked.

“It was such a horrible accident,” Sylvie said, yet she, too, still wondered what had happened. “But in weather like that, who knows what can occur?”

She didn’t want to express all of her thoughts. She’d heard rumors. Suggestions that Randall Allen might not have been such a grand husband. There may have been other women.