Taken by Storm Page 12

  Something bumped his leg, and he jumped and scrabbled with his hand, hoping it was her.

  Instead, he pulled the bag Leila had carried from beneath the surface. “Leila!”

  Splashing and coughing. He whirled around, shining the light erratically, desperate to find her.

  “Leila?” His voice was hoarse from shouting.

  “Ry—” Her coughs were the best thing he’d heard. “I’m over here.” Her voice was weak and croaky, but it was enough for him to find her with the light. That small voice made him want to sing. She was above water and breathing, and thirty feet away clinging to the hood of a car, her legs still in the water.

  “Stay there, I’ll come to you!” He thought his relief would buoy him like a pontoon he felt so light, giddy that she was okay.

  He stepped away from the corner where the water rushed past him, the buildings creating a funnel, forcing the water through at a higher flow rate, and making the strong current that had snared Leila and taken her down the street. She was lucky the SUV had been there. Unless she’d slammed into it and gotten hurt.

  “Are you bleeding?”

  She started coughing again, and he heard her spitting. Good—the water was teeming with bacteria. Hopefully, she didn’t swallow any. And he had the bottles of water she’d insisted they take in the bag, so she could rinse and spit when he reached her.

  “Leila, are you cut or bleeding?”

  “Can’t tell.” More spitting and hacking.

  Carefully, he walked parallel to the current until he felt it lessen, then he crossed it at a diagonal, aiming for the light-colored SUV Leila clung to, letting the water help push him along. The current was still vicious and fast, pushing at his feet, making every step an effort. She was lucky she hadn’t been sucked under and—no. He wasn’t going down that trail of thought.

  The current probably went from where they were about three blocks, to the dip in Third Avenue, wrapping around by the library that was on higher ground. Craig hadn’t mentioned anything about it, but he hadn’t walked this way. What a difference a few blocks made.

  Built into a hill, the library had always reminded Ryan of a hobbit house. If they’d been able to sandbag the front door, the hill should have protected them from the water. He hoped so—the library was an important part of the community, hosting all kinds of concerts and plays, as well as doling out books. He’d gone to the story times they’d held there when he was a kid—and nearly twenty-five years later, that same librarian, Miss Deb, was still entertaining kids in that program. The library had to be okay. The ladies there had to be okay.

  One more heartbeat of the town he hoped wasn’t silenced forever.

  Though he couldn’t see, he shone the light on Leila in case she panicked in the dark. She’d been through something scary, was still in the midst of it, and if she was hurt she needed to see it. Maybe she just needed to not be in the dark and scared, so he bathed her in light.

  “Try to get out of the water.” They’d have to warm up before moving again. He was getting clumsy himself. The flashlight shook more in his hand than it had, and he knew it wasn’t from relief to see Leila was okay. She didn’t move.

  “Leila.” Nothing. She hadn’t coughed for a while either. Shit. Hypothermia? Had she hit her head and succumbed to a concussion? “Talk to me, sweetheart, are you okay?”

  “Don’t call me sweetheart,” she croaked, and he smiled until his cheeks hurt.

  She kicked weakly, and hauled herself up onto the hood, feebly rolling over and sliding until she sat with her back against the windshield. It looked comfy, and he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and snuggle the shit out of her, not letting go until all the water evaporated. Maybe not even then.

  He was still about fifteen feet away when he stepped on something and rolled his ankle. “Shit!”

  “What’s wrong?” Her voice was so weak.

  “Stepped on something funny.”

  “A clown?”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “You’re right. Clowns are terrifyingly creepy.”

  The urge to hug her got stronger. “Yes they are.”

  “You’re okay though?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I can continue with my impression of a hood ornament.”

  Ten feet away. He was able to see her in more detail, none of it good. The light sweater he’d lent her was dark with river water and mud, with a tear in the arm. A long scratch marked her leg, but he didn’t think it was bleeding. There were a few other minor scrapes. She was filthy, but he could still make out the dark circles under her eyes. “How’s that working out for you?”

  She flopped a hand, which worried him more than the mud coating her skin and clothes. The cold was getting to her more than him. She couldn’t spend much more time out here. Neither could he, but she was so much worse.

  Leila finally answered. “Pretty good I think. It’s not intellectually stimulating, but it’s not physical either. I’m feeling very into rest right now.” She closed her eyes, and he shone the flashlight directly at her face.

  “Don’t sleep! Open your eyes, Leila.” Two feet away. Finally.

  “I’m not concussed, Ryan. I’m just tired. Some of us didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “I know. I was there.”

  She giggled. “Yes, you were. It’s been such a long day. Who the hell would have thought, hey? I mean all of this. It’s crazy.”

  She slurred every “s.” Finally at the vehicle, he reached out to feel her arm. She sat closer to his side than the middle and was so cold. Compared to Leila, Ryan was toasty warm. He wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her to the edge, not bothering to get out of the water. She needed heat now.

  “Ouch! You’re cold. No, hot. It almost burns.” Snuggling closer, she ran a hand up his arm. “Impossibly hot.”

  She was cold, but it was the stress making her giddy, not hypothermia. Already her movements were less jerky. The fact that fear was making her act like this was scarier than her being hypothermic. His Leila didn’t get scared. She’d kick fear in the nuts, then unleash a diatribe that would make it cry.

  “Here.” He passed her the bag. “Grab one of the bottles of water.”

  “I’m not really thirsty. You go ahead.”

  “It’s to rinse your mouth. You probably swallowed some water, but at least you can rinse the grit out of your teeth.”

  “Oh. That’d be nice.” She tugged at the tape, and dropped her hands, setting the bag on her other side. “Everything’s so tired.”

  “I know. But soon we’ll be out of here, and you can sleep for a week.”

  “And you?”

  “I’ll be helping the guys with whatever they need.”

  “You need rest too.” She squinted.

  “No rest for the wicked.”

  A small smile played at her lips and she rolled her eyes. “You going to come up here?” She scooted over.

  “Might as well.” He tried not to slosh water over the hood as he leaned forward, reaching for the wheel well with a foot for leverage. A loud scraping registered a second before the world went away.

  ***

  Her chest hurt from coughing, and cold and shock had deadened her limbs, locked her joints. Once the shock of being pulled under had faded, and she had been out of the frigid water for a moment, Leila’s wits had begun to return. Ryan caught up and she almost forgave him for being clueless she was so happy to not have drowned.

  Ryan held the flashlight sideways as he pushed up onto the SUV, so Leila saw the tree coming at him, but there wasn’t even time to shout. She grabbed for him and snagged his shirt, hoping he’d gotten his legs far enough up for the tree to pass him by. It had to have been a monster of a tree, but she could only see the parts floating above water—and the roots that scraped against the front end of the SUV, causing it to shake in the water, shattering a headlight, and colliding with Ryan’s right side. His leg had been up, unbalancing him, and he fell hard forward. Hi
s face hit the hood with a loud bang, and his head snapped back from the force.

  He went limp, and Leila hooked her foot over the opposite side of the hood and held onto his shirt as the tree’s momentum started dragging him off the safety of the car. If he fell in the water, there was no way Leila could lift him back up. He was tall and muscular, and probably had one hundred pounds over her, so she clung to him, grappling for a better hold with her cold-numbed hands.

  The tree eased past them with a groan of wood against metal, but she held on and won the fight for Ryan, wincing when something twinged in her left wrist. Leila was still pulling for all she was worth when the tree released him, and she pulled him a few inches closer. It wasn’t ideal, but she was able to pull him farther onto the hood where he crumpled in a heap. She rolled him over onto his back.

  Unfortunately, the flashlight got knocked over the edge and died beneath the water within seconds, leaving them in the dark.

  “Ryan?”

  He was so still, and she couldn’t hear his breathing, just the rush of the water. Tears sprung to her eyes. Stupid trees! She’d happily turn every one of them into mulch. Why did it have to be so dark?

  The candles. She bit, scratched, picked at the bag until she got the tape peeled back, then found one of the candles, and the matches. It took three matches before she got a flame, and was able to touch it to the wick. Dripping a few melted drops of wax to stick the candle to the SUV as a base, she leaned closer to Ryan, heart turned to a block of ice in her chest at the fear of what she’d see.

  Please be okay, please.

  He hadn’t moved and his eyes were slightly open. A huge purple lump covered his temple and cheekbone, and a thin trickle of blood seeped down his face. He groaned and his eyes fluttered shut, and she laughed and stroked the uninjured side of his face, thankful he was okay. He’d taken a knock to the head, but he’d be fine in a minute, up and bossing her around.

  She twisted a cap off one of the bottles of water, and poured a little over the gash, then grabbed the alcohol spray. It would sting like a bitch but might rouse him faster. Careful not to get any in his eyes, she sprayed the wound, waiting for him to spring up and yell at her for doing it wrong. And then she’d make fun of him for whining about it. And they’d laugh.

  He twitched, and she looked at his foot, pulling it farther onto the hood so it wouldn’t drop into the water. He had something on his leg, and she moved to brush it off. Her hand came back wet. “More mud. I’ll be finding mud in places mud has no business being for weeks after this.” It felt good to talk to him again, joke with him. If only his eyes were smiling back at her. “Some people pay big bucks for mud masks and mud baths. So, score, right?” But when she grabbed the bottle to pour water over it, her hand was red, not brown. Blood? When did I cut myself? I didn’t even feel it.

  No.

  She grabbed another candle from the bag and lit it, using more melted wax to stick it to the hood nearer his leg. “Ryan? Wake up.” There had been too much blood for it to have come from the trickle on his face. Kneeling, she moved closer to his leg and hauled his jeans up. Just below his knee on the outside of his leg was a cut, sort of shaped like a triangle, oozing blood from two sides. She poured water over it from the bottle, trying to clean it out and saw it wasn’t oozing. Blood ran down his leg.

  What the fuck do I know about injuries? Why didn’t I take first aid? It hadn’t been mandatory for everyone to have first aid certification, as long as someone at the office had it. And someone always had it! The dentists had to, so she never bothered! She’d meant to take it a couple times, but things came up, and it got bumped down the priority list.

  Alcohol. She pumped the spray as fast as her shaking finger would move. “Come on! Ryan!” Why wasn’t he waking up? He had first aid; he’d know what to do, instead of her fumbling around and screwing it up.

  Okay, in the movies and books they always put pressure on things. And gauze. She dug in the bag and pulled out the gauze pads and tape. How many should I use? A couple, seven? Fuck it. She put them all on top of the cut. Not the time to be stingy. He didn’t move when she took her hand away to tear a strip of the tape, and she was equally glad and scared. He should have woken up by now if he’d just been knocked out, unless something was wrong, right? God, just another thing she had no idea about.

  The first strip she tore was too long, and wrapped halfway around his leg. Was it tight enough? Too tight? How the hell do you tell? Losing a leg because of the thing being too tight was better than bleeding to death, but it was still awful. He wasn’t gushing blood, but it was an open wound. She tore another strip, this one too short, so she stuck that across the middle of the gauze, hoping it would add some pressure. Tear and tape, tear and tape. She may have gone a bit nuts with the tape, but when she was done that fucking gauze wasn’t going anywhere.

  And hopefully it was tight enough and would keep any additional water out.

  How would they walk through the water if he had a leg injury? The water was filthy, and the bandage would get soaked. As an afterthought, she taped the bag around his leg, covering him from above his knee to part way down his shin. There. Nothing is getting in there.

  Warmth was also important, so she snuggled close to Ryan, wrapping herself around him as best she could, glad to feel he wasn’t as cold as she’d expected. He’s not dead, idiot. He’s knocked out. Now that the main crisis was dealt with, she realized it had only maybe been a minute or two since the tree hit him. Fucking tree. It felt like half an hour had passed.

  I’m going to get out of here, and go back to school, and learn first aid, and read a bunch of books about surviving disasters. I’m going to carry a giant purse full of useful things so I’ll never be caught without emergency equipment ever again. I’ll get a multi-tool, and a waterproof flashlight or two, and a first aid kit, and—

  A rumbling came from somewhere, maybe a few blocks away. Another wave? A thin whimper left Leila’s throat, but she swallowed the fear back and sat, straining to see in the darkness. Which direction? She couldn’t carry Ryan, but maybe she could—

  A light. The rumbling was a motor, and there were people a few blocks away!

  “Hey! Over here!” she screamed. “Help us!” She waved, then realized they couldn’t see her in the dark, so she bent and grabbed the candles and held them as high in the air as she could. “Hey!”

  Her efforts were rewarded with a shout, and the light and vehicle came closer. “Hello! You okay?” A man’s voice called out over the loud engine of the small boat. Pulling beside the SUV, they cut the motor.

  “I am, but my friend isn’t.”

  “Is that Benton?” The man hopped onto the hood. “It is!” His clothes showed he was a firefighter. “We were coming to get him after we dropped this group off. He was at Glitters with some people.” He bent and began examining Ryan, shining a light in his eyes, prodding his arms.

  “Yes! Everyone left, and he and I stayed. Kyle Spencer is my brother and I wanted to wait for him, but the water got worse and we left.”

  “It’s good you left when you did. So you two walked here?”

  She nodded. “A huge tree came by, and smacked into him and he hit his head, but it’s his leg I’m really worried about.”

  “We’ve got you now.” He motioned at someone in the boat, who stepped down to join them on the hood. The two men lifted Ryan onto the boat, nestling him on the floor. “I’ll be riding with him, making sure he’s okay. Now for the bad news. We’ve picked up a few people as you can see.” He briefly shone the flashlight over the people in the boat. Leila saw someone wearing nothing but shorts, and someone with an oxygen tank. “I have to ride with Benton, and Bill here’s the only one other one with me, he’ll be driving the boat.”

  There wasn’t room for her. She saw how low they were riding in the water, especially since they’d moved Ryan in. “You want me to stay here?” She’d do it, gladly give up her place if it meant Ryan got to a hospital sooner.

 
“Just for a bit.” He spoke into a walkie-talkie and gave their location and a rundown of the situation. “We’ll get Benton to a hospital, and you back to dry land. There’s another team coming behind us, they should be here within five minutes.”

  “Go. He’s banged up.”

  “Don’t leave this vehicle.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I’m only trusting you not to do anything stupid because you’re Spence’s sister.”

  She smiled. “Doing something stupid” was her middle name lately. “I’ll be fine.”

  He handed her his flashlight. “Keep this. It will make it easier to flag the guys down when they come find you.” She was grateful that he didn’t say he was leaving it so she wouldn’t be left alone and scared in the dark. The motor started up, and they moved out of sight, leaving Leila alone, clutching the flashlight.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  His head felt like it had become one of those Russian Nesting dolls, like it was four sizes too big, and all of them hurt equally. Scared to move and make the pounding worse, he opened his eyes and blinked hard a few times. There were vehicles by his feet, the edge of the road swallowed by a huge amount of water.

  A light shone from above his head where he couldn’t see; when he tried to look at it, he couldn’t move. What the hell? Behind the pain came the realization and the memory of the flood and the bar and, oh God, where was—“Leila?”

  He struggled harder. Why the hell couldn’t he move? “Leila!”

  “Whoa, settle down, Benton.”

  “Spencer?”

  “Yeah. You look like shit.” Kyle stepped into Ryan’s line of vision, looking slightly better than death warmed over. Ryan was struck by how differently he and Leila looked—just their coloring. He was pale with dark blue eyes, tall and solid, but if you knew they were related, their features were very similar.

  “Screw that, I should be helping you guys. I could use the bags under your eyes as carry-on.”

  “No way. You’re banged up enough, took a hit to that pretty face of yours.”