Page 45 of South of Nowhere

But here? George’s debate was to sacrifice himself and give his family a few more minutes of air, in hopes that rescuers would get to them in time.

A universe of difference between the two mortal decisions.

George had probably passed out before he could enwrap his face.

He released the wad and it floated away.

With a boost from Colter, the man climbed out of the hole and onto the ladder as Buddy took him by the arm and steadied him. He stopped, looking around, a gaze of astonishment on his face as he saw the reality of where they were.

Colter followed, and a few seconds later the inrush of water slowed and the interior was completely filled.

Starr joined them and helped the man make his way off the pond, her walking backward on the ladder, holding his hands.

Once off the ladder, he staggered to his family, who were with two medics in the back of an ambulance.

Buddy collected the chain saw and he and Colter followed. The fireman and Tolifson pulled the ladder to shore, and collapsed and reaffixed it to the fire truck.

Then the husband and wife lifted their eyes and, in identical poses, stared at the sandbags that sat atop their vehicle.

Like tombstones above their putative grave.

Colter laughed to himself: wondering where on earth the bizarre, if poetic, phrase had come from.

Debi Starr called, “Everybody, back to high ground.”

Wise. He reflected. Better not to lose sight of the fact that a thousand tons of lethal mud and water, at any unannounced moment, could come raining down upon them.

19.

Time Elapsed from Initial Collapse: 4 Hours

A brief shower in the camper.

First, Colter, then his sister.

The Winnebago could handle the water; Colter had had an extra tank installed, not wishing to have to rely on finding a campsite hookup if a job turned urgent.

He wondered, however, how sturdy the filtration system was. It was processing an excessive amount of mud from the SUV rescue.

Colter had plenty of clean clothing. Dorion also had gym bags in the back of her SUV. She was planning on getting a motel room later, but that was not a priority. The Never Summer still poured and splashed and roared, and the levee gave up its bulk inch by inch, moving closer by every minute to the destruction of the town of Hinowah.

As for the family of the hour—the Garveys from Bakersfield—they had been examined at County North Medical Center and released, having sustained no serious injuries. The only changes of clothing they had were at the bottom of the Chevy Suburban watershed, but as part of her disaster preparation, Dorion had arranged for scores of dry outfits in all sizes to be shipped from several emergency way stations she knew about in Northern California. Theycould shower and change in the college gymnasium. Sonja’s mother and brother, whom they’d just visited in Oregon, would arrive to take them back north to sort out insurance and find new wheels.

And gadgets too. Colter imagined, with some amusement, the horror the children faced because not a single electronic device had survived.

George had used a borrowed phone and offered Colter boundless gratitude. He said if there was anything that he could ever do for Colter, he need only say the word. He would be happy to offer his family-owned business’s services to Colter and his family for free.

And what exactly was that? Colter was thinking food service or computer repair or accounting.

No, the man was a mortician and proud of it; his funeral home had been in the Garvey family for three generations.

Laughing, Colter took the info, reflecting that the man’s profession and the art of survivalism were largely in opposition. But perhaps the man’s skills might come in handy if he ever needed research into the nature of the business. He recited his email address and they disconnected.

Colter and Dorion were watching the sandbag team when he heard a man’s voice. “Not good.” It was Ed Gutiérrez, who’d just been to the edge of the north side of Route 13 and measured the width of the levee again with an app on his phone. “Situational erosion’s taken another two inches off the interior in the past hour, three on the top. Water’s like a damn sandblaster.”

Dorion called Sergeant Tamara Olsen. From her reaction, it was clear the news she was getting was not to her liking.

After they disconnected, she said, “Helicopter with the superglue’s still grounded. I asked if they could truck it in, but she said it has to be applied from the air.”

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