Chapter 42
SAPPHIRE
Judder, squeak, scrape… The wipers grind against the windshield noisily, trying their best to do their job, but they fail, flapping noisily back and forth, as the rain falls in sheets.
Even on the highest setting, I can hardly see a foot in front of me.
“Okay, Sapphire, take it slow, you’ve got this.”
It’s been over a year since I’ve driven anywhere in the rain, and my knuckles have turned white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly.
The weather report this morning never mentioned rain. Although, come to think of it, I didn’t check the weather for the Sierra foothills.
“Why didn’t you check, Sapphire?” I ask myself in the empty car.
Another low rumble echoes through the valley as the wipers squeal, desperately trying to sweep away the rain that’s falling even harder, making it look like a curtain of glass.
At first, I thought the rumble was thunder, but the ground gave a subtle, sickening shudder that makes me think it’s something much worse. An earthquake, maybe.
I press the accelerator a bit more, the wipers now catching on the glass, stuttering like my breath.
Ahead, the glimpses of asphalt resemble a sea of dark, slick oil.
There’s another rumble, a low one, closer than before.
“That’s not thunder.” I duck my head, trying to see if I can make out what it is, but it’s useless. The rain is too heavy to see through.
Squeal, stutter, squeal, stutter, the rubber drags against the glass as leaves from the trees and spatters of mud smear the windshield, blurring my vision even more.
I’ve already had a rough day, starting with waking up alone, then cycling halfway across the city trying to find Eli, only to find him at his desk where he basically told me he didn’t want me around, and now this.
I could do without a biblical flood. What’s next? Locusts?
Checking behind me in the rearview mirror, I catch a glimpse of something falling from the slope I just drove past.
“What the hell was that?”
My gut keeps telling me to stop, but I keep going. Maybe just around the corner, the rain will stop.
Something flickers again from behind, and a roaring thunder, sounding like it’s heading toward me, bellows from all around.
Then something appears behind me.
It’s rapid, forbidding.
A rock.
Not just a rock, a boulder, almost the size of my house, rolling down the road and in my direction.
As if in slow motion, the hillside above begins to move, sliding and shifting slowly, as a wall of earth and trees collapses behind and in front of me. Another boulder crashes onto the road and slams into the hood.
I’m in the middle of a mudslide.
Then I’m spinning, the tires shrieking and skidding on the wet gravel, the wheels jerking out of control.
The wipers keep flapping, now completely useless, their wild rhythm uneven as the windshield disappears under a wave of mud.
Suddenly, the car comes to a stop, throwing me sideways against the door feeling battered and a little bruised.
I don’t even think about my next move; all I know is that I can’t sit here, waiting to be dragged down into the valley in a mudslide.
Without knowing what will happen outside the car, I release my seat belt, throw open the door, and jump out of the car and into the storm.
Shielding my face from the rain, I turn back for a brief moment and see the back of the car already half buried under a flood of mud that flows like lava over it, moving fast as it slides down the valley, spraying mud everywhere and resembling a waterfall.
Oh my God, I’m going to die.
I start running, the mud under my feet getting thicker and wetter, the ground slippery and turning into sludge.
Another glance across my shoulder and the last I see of the car as it disappears completely, eaten by the mud, are the headlights vanishing down the valley.
I keep running, but my slippery-soled boots do nothing to give me grip against the relentless mud. I pray that someone will be driving this way, but then I twist my ankle and lose my footing.
Soaked through, I tumble down the hill, slipping further into the valley, getting tossed and spun this way and that until I stop completely.
Then, silence.
I groan, my body sprawled at odd angles from being thrown around like a rag doll.
Clutching my stomach as the rain continues to pour relentlessly, I feel sick and disoriented, trembling and frozen to the bone, covered in mud, twigs, and leaves.
My ankle aches, and my cheek stings from hitting a rock during my tumble.
Gagging, I spit the mud out of my mouth, the rain blurring my eyes.
But I’m alive.
Thank the Gods.
Then that’s when I hear it: the crack, and another rumble from above.
More mud, more rain.
Chaos.
“No!” I scream as all gravity loses its meaning.
Then… nothing.