Page 20 of Uriel
Beside me, Emilia fidgets with the radio dial, searching for a clear signal through the static. Her brow is furrowed in concentration, a small crease forming between her eyebrows that I find inexplicably endearing. I force my gaze back to the treacherous road ahead, chiding myself for the distraction.
Suddenly, a voice crackles through the speakers, cutting through the white noise. “...unexpected storm system striking Los Angeles and surrounding areas. Meteorologists are baffled by the sudden formation of this massive weather front...”
Emilia and I exchange a look, the same thought clearly passing between us. This is no ordinary storm.
“Residents are advised to stay indoors and avoid all non-essential travel,” the announcer continues. “Flash flood warnings are in effect for the following counties...”
I tune out the list, focusing instead on navigating the increasingly hazardous driveway. The rain is coming down in sheets now, reducing visibility to mere feet in front of the car. The windshield wipers are fighting a losing battle against the deluge.
“Uriel,” Emilia says, her voice tight with concern. “Maybe we should pull over and wait it out?”
I’m about to agree when I feel the car lurch beneath us. The tires spin, seeking purchase on the now-muddy ground. We’re sliding backwards.
“Hold on,” I growl, gripping the steering wheel tightly. I fight against the skid, trying to angle us towards the shoulder of the driveway where the ground might be more stable.
For a heart-stopping moment, I think we might go over the edge. But then the tires catch on something—a rock, a root, I don’t know—and we jolt to a stop.
We sit there for a moment, the only sound our heavy breathing and the relentless drumming of rain on the roof. Emilia’s hand is gripping the center console, her knuckles white. Without thinking, I cover it with my own.
“Are you alright?” I ask, searching her face for signs of distress.
She nods, a shaky smile forming on her lips. “Yeah. Just... not how I expected this little outing to go.”
I can’t help but chuckle at that. “Indeed. It seems the universe has other plans for us today.”
As if in response, a flash of lightning illuminates the sky, followed almost immediately by a deafening crack of thunder. Emilia jumps, her hand tightening under mine.
“We can’t stay here,” I say, reluctantly pulling my hand away to assess our situation. “The car could start sliding again at any moment.”
Emilia peers out the window, squinting through the rain. “How far are we from the house?”
I follow her gaze, trying to make out familiar landmarks through the downpour. “Not far. Perhaps a quarter mile?”
She nods, determination setting her jaw. “Okay. So we make a run for it?”
“It appears we have little choice,” I agree, already shrugging out of my jacket. “Here, take this.”
Emilia looks at me, confusion clear in her eyes. “What about you?”
“I’ll be fine,” I assure her, draping the jacket over her shoulders. It’s a futile gesture, really—the thin fabric will do little against the torrent outside. But some deeply ingrained instinct compels me to offer what protection I can.
“Ready?” I ask, hand on the door handle.
Emilia takes a deep breath, then nods. “As I’ll ever be.”
We burst out of the car simultaneously, immediately assaulted by the full force of the storm. The rain is cold, each drop feeling like a tiny needle against my skin. Wind whips around us, threatening to tear Emilia’s much smaller frame away.
I glance down at her feet, suddenly realizing the impracticality of her high heels in these treacherous conditions. Without hesitation, I scoop her into my arms.
“Uriel!” she gasps, clearly startled by my action.
“Your shoes,” I explain, raising my voice to be heard over the howling wind. “They’re not suitable for this terrain.”
She nods in understanding, wrapping her arms around my neck for security.
“Stay with me!” I shout over the howling gale, pulling her closer.
I stumble forward, fighting against the wind and rain. The path, usually so clear and well-maintained, has become a treacherous mudslide. Twice, I nearly lose my footing, but manage to keep us both upright.
