Emma wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She pushed her shoulders back, stood her full five-feet-four-inches, and placed a hand on her midriff. She spit out the door. No. That wasn’t embarrassing at all. Josh patted her back. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”
What did that even mean? She wanted to be fine, but she might never be fine again. People were in the house. They had to leave, end of story.
Josh raised an eyebrow at her.
She cocked her eyebrow back. “I’m as ready as I’m ever going to be, okay?”
Josh’s frown made her want to punch him, and she flinched at her reaction. Who was she turning into? They couldn’t stay. He’d said so himself. She stared at her hands unable to meet his eyes. Her gurgling bowels had settled to a low simmer. She gave him an I’m-okay grin. He nodded.
“It’s downhill to the road. If we keep to the left, we’ll be hidden by the berries.” Josh pointed into the darkness, but all she could make out was a row of scraggly vines hanging over a cedar fence.
“We’ll use the vines as cover until we hit a pile of trees near the road. Once we’re through the pile, we’ll be at the end of the driveway and out of hearing from the house.” He glanced at her. She nodded. “We’ll follow Highway 96 to your grandparents’.”
“I took 96 from Cedarville. I guess it makes sense that your farm is off 96?”
He nodded.
“Huh. I wasn’t that lost after all.” She shrugged into her pack, the fog in her head lifting. She could do this. She was doing this. She would be at Gran and Papa’s today. The hair on the back of her neck tingled.
“Um. Ladies first?” He bowed to her.
“No. Age before beauty.” Blood rushed to her face. That was the stupidest thing she’d ever said to a boy, but she couldn’t lead, not in her condition. She pressed a hand against her middle.
“Okay, but try to keep up. We have two miles to cover.”
In the predawn light, she was able to make out the shapes of trees beyond the barn. She crept behind Josh to the fence with the berry vines draped over it. The thorns had caught debris from the winds, creating better cover for them.
He held up his hand. She froze. Voices arguing came from the house. Josh grabbed her arm, and she dropped into a crouch beside him. He held a finger to his lips. She peered through the tangle. Two men stood on the porch, one pointing right at her.
“I heard voices right there.”
She ducked. Was it possible for her heart to pound out of her chest? She gazed behind them to the root cellar then peered through the vines toward the house. The door opened, and another man with red hair came out. She couldn’t breathe as she waited for the men to find her.
Josh crouched even lower. “That’s Bill and Dean. I don’t know the guy with red hair.”
Josh did not take his eyes from the porch. In the growing light, his face had turned white. A shiver ran from the back of her neck to her tailbone. Her leg cramped. She gripped it, sat, and straightened it.
She put a hand on his shoulder. “What’s going on?”
Josh pointed. “Dean.”
Dean walked down the steps. He pointed a flashlight right where they were crouched. The light bounced as he fumbled it.
“I’m telling you, I heard voices,” Dean said. “I swear it.”
“Well, I don’t hear nothing. No more false alarms, you hear me, you coward. We’re trying to send that message.”
Josh pointed. His finger shook. “Bill.”
Bill stomped back into the house, leaving Dean in the driveway holding the flashlight. He ran up the steps and turned off the light. If he was the watchman, he sucked. Josh touched her shoulder and motioned to the downed trees at the end of the driveway.
“Do you think you can run?” he whispered.
She nodded, massaging her leg.
“Stay close.”
Crouching low, Josh ran along the fence and into the tangled mess of downed trees toward 96. He eased through the branches. She rushed behind him, but a branch swung back hitting her in the face.
“Ow.” She fell to her knees, holding a hand to her cheek. They’d only gone one hundred feet, and she wanted to cry.
She clenched her jaw. Get up, Emma. She scrambled herself through the branches one by one, straddling trees as she swung her body over yet another log.
Trees looked so organized standing upright, but on the ground, they were a nightmare of branches and trunks. Sweat made her shirt damp, and her legs quivered with each movement.
Josh waited on the other side of a large log, and she grabbed his arm for support. The wavering flashlight beam was no longer visible.
“I need a drink.” She wanted a nap, but a stop for a drink would have to do.
Josh grabbed a bottle from her pack and one from his. They sat in silence, drinking R.
“You okay?” R dripped down his chin, and he wiped it on his sleeve. His chest rose and fell as fast as hers, which was a small comfort to her. This was hard for him, too.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” If she could keep that promise, she would make it to Gran’s house.
The sky grew lighter with each step, and the rough contours of the bark and the needles on the fir trees come into focus. Her feet swam in the boots. The bottoms tingled and grew numb as she trudged down 96.
She gazed at the tops of the Cedarville firs. “Why didn’t they fall?”
“I have no idea. Strong root systems most likely.”
She’d driven with Gran through the tall column every time they went to Cedarville, but the effect of walking through the column was breathtaking. They stood like sentinels in the early dawn, swaying in the rising winds.
“How many storms have we had now? I’ve lost track.” She ran the back of her hand over her forehead.
“This is day eight, so four? The first one was the worst.”
“So next one will be lucky number five?”
As if on cue, the wind whistled through the branches. Not now. Another storm would ruin her day. The breeze grew stronger. Her gut clenched.
“What if the storm hits before we get there?” She regretted the words the minute they flew from her mouth.
“Don’t say that. You’ll jinx us.” He scanned the clouds rolling in.
Heat rose to her cheeks. He hadn’t seemed like a superstitious kind of guy, but then again, she didn’t know him. A branch cracked off a nearby tree and sailed over their heads to land in a field. She held her stomach, leaning against a log, waiting for it to quit rolling.
“You okay?” Josh looked at the sky, a furrow wrinkling his brow.
“I’ll make it. Just needed a breather. How much farther?”
“We’re getting closer. This took longer than I thought it would.” He grinned at her. “How’d you make it all the way from Vandby?”
She shrugged. She forgot the hat on the couch, and the wind blew her hair in her face. The sun sat low in the sky, and dark clouds were visible, rolling in from the southwest. Her jaw clenched, and Josh frowned. They had to keep moving. She pushed herself off the log, the standing trees swaying like graceful silhouettes all around them.
“Come on.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost nine. I’d want to get you to your family before noon so I can go on to Cedarville.” He jogged to the next downed tree, slowing to climb through the branches.
She followed, but she was breathless after two trees. She lifted her head as Josh disappeared into yet another tangle of trees. The wind grew stronger, pressing against her back. It was like déjà vu.
She tumbled across one more log, struggling to keep up. He ran back for her and grabbed her hand. She tried to smile, but he didn’t notice as he hauled her across a pasture, dodging branches and metal roofing. It seemed effortless for him, and she let him drag her along.
He came to a dirt road, dropped her hand, and jumped a ditch. She followed and blessed all the goddesses for pavement once again. Josh stopped, shielding his eyes as he scanned the area. She gazed into the mess of branches and trees.
Were they getting close? Nothing looked familiar. The wind whipped her hair, stinging her eyes until the landscape blurred. Josh gripped her hand again, and she raced with him through a parking lot filled with snowplows and piles of sand.
She willed her feet to run faster, but Josh dropped her hand and ran ahead. She tried to keep up, but he ran too fast. She couldn’t even catch her breath. Why had she told him she could do this? She couldn’t do this, not on her best day. The wind gusted as if to mock her, pushing her down.
How far had they run? It seemed like ten miles. How many hours had passed since they’d left Josh’s? Her chest ached, and coughing rasped her throat. The wind raced through the trees, blowing fir needles in her face. Josh ran toward a house in the distance.
“Josh,” she called, but he kept running. Storm number five wasn’t lucky at all, and how was it that she was outside getting blown around? Again. Her gut tightened, and she doubled over.
Josh turned, and his mouth opened, but his words did not reach her. He held out his hand and she forced her legs to keep moving until she could grab his hand.
“The wind.” Her tummy rolled. She clenched her jaw.
“We’re almost there.” Taking her arm, he helped her over trees and through branches.
A crack broke the air, and she grabbed Josh’s arm as a branch flew overhead. The trees thumped as they blew into one another. Josh held her hand, and she raced behind him. She tripped over a stump, and he helped her to her feet. All she could do was grip his hand and clutch her middle as they slogged on.
She stumbled over a fence and into a yard. A house stood across a grassy expanse, a swing creaking from a rusty swing set.
“This is Gran and Papa’s place?”
The wind howled, drowning out her words. She scanned the lawn, Papa’s pride and joy littered with garbage right up to the rhododendrons by the house. She stared at the yellow chicken coop, a tree lying through the middle of it. Where were the chickens? Josh held her hand, towing her to the house.
All the windows were either cracked or broken, and the front door stood open. Glass, pinecones, and fir needles covered the hardwood floor.
“Gran?” she called. Her voice echoed, but no one answered. “Where are they?” She scanned the living room. What had she expected, Papa sitting in his chair reading the paper?
She tiptoed over the broken glass, following Josh through the living room to the kitchen. He turned on his flashlight and opened the basement door, but she stopped at the top of the steps.
A cold chill ran through her. Another dead end with no Mom. Her feet were numb, and her hands tingled.
Dust motes floated in front of Josh’s flashlight beam. He took a step, and the wood creaked. She clenched her teeth.
A white streak exploded out of the blackness and slammed into her leg, disappearing out the front door.
“Agh!”
“Cat.” He glanced at her then disappeared into the darkness.
“Poor Frosty.”
She stared into the black hole of the basement. Her Papa had teased her about spiders hiding in every corner, so she’d never gone down these stairs, ever. She shuddered and followed Josh.
Papa had cut back on gardening, so Gran no longer canned the vegetables, especially after her dad died, so their basement was the opposite of Josh’s, no rugs, no furniture, no jars of carrots or pickles shining on the shelves. Papa’s tool bench and table saw sat against one wall, gathering dust. A mismatched washer and dryer stood on the wall opposite the stairs.
The damp and cold sank into her bones, and she shivered under her sweat-drenched shirt. She rubbed her arms and stamped her feet, but her intestines gurgled, and she bent at the waist. Had Josh heard? She needed to figure out the bathroom situation, and quick.
“What’s that?” She pointed at a big metal box, hoping it might be a toilet of some kind.
“Furnace.” Josh patted the metal.
She struggled to stay upright. “Hmm. And that?” She pointed at another large barrel-shaped object. Please goddesses, let it be a toilet.
“Water heater.” Josh frowned at her. “Don’t you have these things in your house?”
“I avoid basements at all costs. Spiders.”
“Oh. Um. You did well in the root cellar then.”
“I closed my eyes.” She waited for him to laugh at her, but he didn’t. The wind toppled a tree with a thump. Between spiders and trees falling, she might have an accident or a nervous breakdown.
“Where do you think they went?” She rubbed her hands together for warmth, shuffling her feet.
“The hospital.” Josh offered. “Are you okay?”
“Sure.” She raised her shoulders raising the collar of the coat to hide most of her face. “Why the hospital?”
“One of the messages said seniors and sick people could shelter there.”
“Gran just had cataract surgery.” She bit her lip. Why hadn’t she listened to Mom? The room began to spin.
Grabbing her bottle of R from the side pocket of her pack, she emptied it in two chugs. She shook her empty. Josh pointed at her bag, and she took out a full one. The wind whistled through the open front door and through the house. Josh lit a candle, protecting the wick as it waved in the drafty basement.
“It’s in full force now.” Josh peered out of one of the dirty windows that let in dim light.
“How long do you think this one will last?” Her belly gurgled again.
“Uh. I don’t know. None of them have been the same. The shortest was only a couple of hours.” He glanced at his watch. “11:17 am. I hope this one’s short. We need all the daylight we can get if we have to walk to the hospital.”
“The hospital is three miles, right?” Her tummy rolled, and she clutched it with both hands as she scanned the basement for a bucket. She’d never make it three miles.
She needed medicine to stop the diarrhea. She needed Mom. Josh stared at her.
“You don’t look so good. My house is only two. I think we should go back.” He glanced at her. “It will be easier for you.”
“What? That’s a horrible idea. I didn’t come all this way to go back.” She clutched her middle. Why did she drink from the river? She wiped her nose on her sleeve. “Bill’s there, remember? It makes more sense to go to the hospital. Don’t you want to see your mom?” Her tummy started to roll in earnest, and she broke into a sweat, tears rolling down her face.
“You’re going to be sick.” His brow furrowed, and his eyes bore into her. “Here, lie down.”
“On the cement?” Sick was an understatement. Couldn’t he tell she needed a toilet? How did she tell him?
He pulled out a blanket and grabbed some cardboard boxes Papa had broken down for recycling. He laid the cardboard out then helped her onto it and covered her with the blanket.
“Thanks.” Her tummy rumbled, and she tucked her knees to her chest. Her intestines groaned, and she glanced at Josh, his cheeks bright red.
“I’ll try to find a bucket or something, just in case.” He spun from her and paced the basement, peering behind the furnace and the washing machine.
“Yeah, just in case.” How humiliating. Her middle rolled again, and she closed her eyes. She would have spent her Saturday watching Frozen with Sarah for the millionth time. She should be with Sarah and Mom wherever they are.
She doubled over, her hand on her cramping abdomen. “Where’s that bucket?”
“Found one.” Josh emerged from the other side of the washing machine tipping a white plastic bucket upside down and beating the bottom. Lint and dryer sheets fell to the floor. He placed it next to her and backed away. She glanced inside, the rust stains and green mold visible even in the dim light.
“A little privacy?” Her cheeks grew hot.
“Oh. Uh. Yeah.” Josh pointed to a dark corner and went to inspect it.
She flipped on her flashlight, spotted a tarp. “Hey. We can make a wall.”
Josh lifted a corner of the tarp. “Or not.”
The aroma of cat urine hit her like a stink bomb. She pinched her nostrils. Josh held the flashlight, scanning the basement, stopped on a cardboard box with “DRYER” printed on the side. He dragged it over to her.
“Use this for a partition.” He turned away and switched off the light.
Her abdomen cramped, and her legs wobbled as she rushed behind the makeshift wall with the bucket.
“I’ll just apologize now.”
She could hear him humming to himself. The wind roared outside, which helped, but Josh had nowhere to go, no way to escape the odors.
Weak with cramps, she cursed all the goddesses. Josh had done nothing but help her. Why couldn’t she help him by being stronger? Who was she kidding? She couldn’t do any of this.
“If I had my violin, I could play something loud enough to—you know.”
“Yeah, I do know. What would you play, ‘Ode d’ Poo’?”
He chuckled.
A loud crash and whump shook the ground close to the house. Would any trees be left?
“That one was big.” Josh sloughed his pack off then his coat.
Was he talking about her or the tree? Her tummy settled. She grabbed her flashlight and scanned the floor, revealing a square piece of plywood. She covered the bucket.
“Well, that wasn’t humiliating at all.” She panned her light over the makeshift bed. “Any hand sanitizer?”
“In your pack.”
She wiped her hands three times. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she crawled under the blanket, the wind howling around the house.
They couldn’t go anywhere until this storm blew over. “Maybe after I sleep I’ll feel well enough to make it to the hospital.”
Josh sat on a stack of cardboard and leaned against the wall. He grunted.
He hates me now. Her vision blurred, and questions filled her mind. Did Gran and Papa make it to the hospital? Did her mom?
She closed her eyes.
****
She bolted upright to Josh shaking her shoulder. He stepped back. She took in her unfamiliar surroundings then searched Josh’s face. He stood above her but avoided eye contact, and her bucket episode crashed through her brain like a bad dream. Would she ever live this down? And he was cute. Dang. She wiped the drool from her mouth. “What’s up?”
“The storm’s over.”
“Oh.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “How long was I out?”
“Four hours.” He stuffed his blanket in his bag. “It’s almost 2:00 now, so we’ll only have a couple hours of daylight.”
She guzzled R, trying to shake the heaviness from her head.
“If we hurry, we’ll get to the farm before dark.” He adjusted his pack on his shoulders.
“What? No. Can’t we discu—”
“We planned on your grandparents being home. It’s three miles to the hospital from here, all uphill. You’ll never make it before dark, and we can’t hike in the dark, and we can’t stay here with no running water or toilet. We’ll have to—”
“Hide in the root cellar.” She sniffed.
She hung her head. No argument would change his mind, but he was right. She’d never make it three miles, not before dark. She hated being sick.
She stuffed the blanket in her pack. “At least it’s downhill all the way.”