Page 88 of Midnightsong
Around her more screams and yells and cries filled her ears, and the sound of rampant footfalls. She peeked out over her arms shielding her head.
The skies had brightened with a dim light, and the storm receded, leaving in its wake the sopping, wet ruination of a runaway train fleet smashing headfirst into the school.
Thirty-Seven
Angie
Angie climbed to her feet, herbreaths laborious.
Her legs shook when she straightened them and she collapsed back to her hands and knees, her palms sinking into the damp mud. The world spun in a blur. Dulled screams blared in her ears.
She rose to stand, her knees quaking. One step forward, and another. Her clothes and hair were still soaked, but she was alive. The raging sea hadn’t claimed her.
Reesa had her arm around another young woman as they limped together toward Angie, lending her a hand to climb to her feet.
A smattering of shoes and jackets laid strewn on the ground, their previous owners nowhere to be found. Opened backpacks and shoulder bags were scattered about, their contents spilled in a haphazard mess: books, notebooks, laptops and tablets, pens and pencils.
How many were gone? How many had the sea taken?
Howmanyhowmanyhowmany?
The questions played on repeat as she wandered down the hill in a daze, her head light and digging her heels into soft mud to keep her balance. The water was still receding, leaving nothing but destroyed, collapsed buildings, crushed cars, and debris in its wake.
It made her sick. The tsunami had been miles wide if she had to broker a guess.
Which meant her apartment was in its path of destruction.
Tian. Lulu.
The thought of her sweet cat terrified, or worse, harmed, gave Angie the jolt she needed. She raced down the hill staying by the waterline, and with her car nowhere in sight, she sprinted the two miles back to her apartment.
She was tired. So tired, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. But she had to get home, had to make sure Lulu was okay.
A half hour later, she reached her apartment complex. It still stood, thank her ancestors, but the first floor was flooded.
The front door was gone, and she waded through chest level water to the end of the hall, avoiding the floating wires and trash.
Her front door sat open and she sucked in a breath.
“Lulu!” She looked around. No sign of her cat.
Did she run out of the apartment, wade through this water somehow and got lost outside? She hoped not.
Angie kept moving, wandering through the rooms, each step growing heavier as she grew more fatigued and fought the water’s resistance. “Lulu!”
A pensive mewing came from the other end of the apartment, and Angie picked up her speed.
The rushing waters must have forced her windows open, because half of her belongings were gone, the rest drenched in sea water.
Her bed was laid up vertically against the wall, her nightstand and its contents, seaflute included, floating in a sea inside her bedroom.
“Lulu!” Damn it, where was she?
Another mew, louder, and Angie bolted for the sound.
Lulu was crouched on the top level of her scratching post and out of Angie’s reach. She had to come down to the next level where it was still dry.
The cat stayed cowering, her blue eyes dilated, her ears drawn back and tail twitching.
