Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
Angie
Angie climbed to her feet, her breaths 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.
Tiān. 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.
“Lulu!” Angie raised her voice, her mind in a panicked, scattered place she couldn’t get out of. Her dining table had overturned and blocked her path to the scratching post, and Angie grabbed at it, flinging it out of her way with what strength she could muster.
Lulu backed away, her rounded back pressing into the wall behind her, and swatted at her when Angie attempted another grab.
“What’s the matter with you?” She clenched her jaw. Another attempt at grabbing her cat sent Lulu jumping up to a ledge where the wall met the ceiling, far from her reach.
She groaned loudly into her hands and forced herself to stop and take a deep breath.
Angie moved slower, spoke in a murmur, and held out her hand again. “Come here.” After a moment’s thought, Lulu skulked forward an inch and sniffed and headbutted her fingers.
Lulu stayed still as Angie picked her up, and she didn’t fight to cling to her woolen scratching post. “Good girl. You’re safe now.
” Angie held her cat to her beating heart, Lulu’s shivers calming, and stroked the back of her head and neck.
Keeping a firm grip on her cat, she walked to the closet where she normally kept her cat carrier.
The closet door was open and empty; remnants of her belongings scattered on the floor. The carrier was nowhere to be found.
Shit, what was she going to do now? She pocketed her seaflute and pulled out her phone, saved by her water-resistant casing.
She called Mia.
No answer.
Bàba was next.
He didn’t answer either, and she texted in their group chat, and Stefan and Ken about the tsunami.
Her family chat was eerily silent, but Stefan and Ken responded immediately, asking if she was okay, and that they were on their way to check on Bàba, and Mia and the kids.
After a brief chat with them, Angie replaced her phone with her seaflute, and leaned against the nearest wall, calling Kaden.
“Angie, Angie are you okay?” His voice was frantic. “Have you heard from your family?”
“No, why? Should I have?” Angie peeled herself away from the wall, sucking in a gasp.
“My uncle attacked Creston. I tried to stop him, but his sentinels pulled me away. I’m sorry, I couldn’t warn your family in time.”
Just when Angie thought this day couldn’t get any worse. Her eyes watered, sending a silent prayer to her ancestors Bàba or Mia weren’t at the docks that day. Mia still brought her kids around to visit Bàba there every now and again.
“This can’t be happening,” Angie mumbled, blinking away her tears. “We were–we were hit with a tsunami here too.”
Kaden snapped what she assumed was a curse in Renyuhua. “I tried to stop this. I’m so sorry, Angie, and thank the Goddess you’re okay.” A pause. “I’m looking for your father to make sure he’s okay, but I can’t find him.”
Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out.
Mia.
“Hey, Kaden. Mia’s calling, let me get this. I’ll talk to you again soon, okay?”
Angie walked out to the front of her building, tired of standing in knee-deep water. She trudged to the outside communal porch. The chairs and tables were gone.
“Mia? Are you okay? Is Bàba okay? Kaden told me about the attack there,” Angie rattled off as soon as she answered.
Lulu squirmed, claws digging through Angie’s jacket and into her shoulders.
It hurt.
Sweeping the landscape, she found nothing sturdy to sit on. The three steps leading up to the porch had been broken through, and she took a ginger step onto the sand.
A large piece of wet driftwood rested before her, something the sea must have swept in.
Her pants and the bottom of her shirt were already wet, so what did she care about sitting on a damp log?
“We heard there was a tsunami.” Mia spoke at the same time as Angie, her words and tone harried.
“Everything’s flooded. I have Lulu, my car’s gone. I might—” Angie surveyed her disaster-struck surroundings. She might what? “I’m coming home. What about you? What happened there? Where’s Bàba?”
“Okay, good. I’m glad. Looking forward to seeing you.” Mia paused. “There was a severe storm at the docks and rough seas. Two of our ships were pulled under along with a docked military ship, and the people on those ships. And Bàba, h-he got hurt.”
Angie stopped short. “What?”
“He was on one of those ships doing inspection, but he barely made it off with three other workers.” Mia’s voice had dropped to a murmur, a tinge of sadness lacing her words. “He’s in the hospital. His back is hurt, and his right leg is broken.”
No, not Bàba. Her chest constricted.
“Okay.” Angie straightened, resolute. “I’ll book a flight out. Wait, I have no way of getting to the airport.” She groaned. “No way are there any taxis or buses in the area after this.”
“I’ll talk to Sonny, see if he can call in a favor from one of his pilot friends and come get you.” Mia cleared her throat and Angie heard Rosie and Jack talking in the background. “Get somewhere safe, mèimei.”