Chapter 21
@WisteriaGeneralStore: Rain, rain, go away . . . but while it’s here, we’ve stocked up on batteries, lanterns, and granola bars (and a few lemon
#PrepareWithPastry
Comments:
@PastorNateNHC: Yea, though I walk through the valley of overflowing gutters, I shall fear no rain . . . for the Lord invented galoshes.
We’re checking on elderly neighbors—text if you know someone who needs help. #LightInTheFlood #FaithAndRubberBoots #LoveThyNeighbor
@TGDPub: Closed early due to flash flood risk. But if the pub floats down Main Street, I expect it to land upright and still serve
stew. Stay safe, Wisteria. #ClosedButStillCooking #PubOnTheMove #StewAndSafetyFirst
@MargaretColeman: All events at the Wisteria Manor are postponed until further notice. Also, all pony rides are off—our ponies are not fans of thunder. Stay warm. Stay dry. And check on your people. #HistoryOnHold #PonyStrikesAgain #WisteriaWeatherWatch
@GrannyDOfficial: Storm’s loud enough to drown out the Hallmark Channel. I’m not sayin’ it’s serious . . . but I just made a triple batch of
biscuits just in case. #GrannyDPrepares #StormComforts #ButterAndPrayer
@MayorWilsonOfficial: ROAD UPDATE:
Backbridge Road closed
Laurel’s Rest Road partially washed away
Avoid driving unless you’re rescuing someone—or you’re a duck.
We’re patrolling through town. Text your neighbors, check on the elderly, and stay high and dry. #SheriffSaysStayPut #NotASwimmingRoad
#WisteriaWatch
Jack: Did you leave the apartment?
Daphne: No, Lucy and I are still here.
Jack: Okay, stay there for now. The river’s rising, and with the current and some floating debris, I don’t want you risking getting
out in this.
Daphne: What if the dam breaks?
Jack: Just stay where you are. The inn is sheltering folks from lower-lying areas. Worse-case scenario, I’ll come and get you to
bring you here.
Nate: The church is being used as a shelter too. We have hot food. And Mr. Rutherforton’s left the hardware store open for anyone
who needs supplies. Spread the word if you can. And pray. It’s worse than you think.
Jack: Headed out to help with some rescue efforts.
Finn: Trees are down everywhere. I had to go a back way around Route 122 because it was impassable.
Daphne: Be safe, y’all.
Nate: I’ll join you, Jack.
Thank the good Lord for happily distracted little girls.
Daphne moved through the apartment, stuffing clothes, her laptop, chargers, a flashlight, and a handful of emergency snacks
into two tote bags. If she’d had access to Finn’s apartment, she would’ve packed for him and Lucy too. As it was, she’d settled
for keeping his daughter safe—and that felt like the weightiest job of all.
Her mind ping-ponged between two options: trying to get to the top of Main Street during a storm with a little girl and a
dog or hunkering down where they were. Upstairs in her apartment wasn’t ideal, but it was solid, dry, and elevated. For now.
And as evening approached, a better option.
At least they had electricity, height, and phone service.
The lights flickered again, the ceiling fan slowing to a crawl before swirling back to life.
Okay, electricity for now.
Daphne’s phone, which had been buzzing nonstop for the last hour, lay face up on the counter nearby, awaiting news from anyone,
everyone.
She drew in a deep breath. However, there was no need to panic. No major issues had been reported so far, just the awareness that catastrophe could happen. Her shoulders slumped. Like a dam breaking. Or another bridge going out. Or a mudslide.
She pressed her eyes closed a moment, collecting herself.
Granny D had checked in five minutes ago, still waiting for Finn, but there was no knowing what the roads were like for him
to get there. One bridge nearest her house, in particular, may prove the trouble . . . if it was even still intact at all.
Daphne moved to one of the front windows and stared out across Main Street, water creeping up the street, forming a river
over the pavement. There had to be a least a foot or two gathering near the bottom of the street, not to mention what was
rushing down from the top of the hill.
Her phone flicked to life.
Finn: River is cresting Granny D’s bridge. Just made it over and parked, but her house is already about two-feet deep in water.
I’m grabbing her as fast as I can and we’re heading back. Don’t leave unless you must. It’s not safe out here.
Daphne: Okay. Be careful.
She stared at the message longer than necessary, her thumb hovering like she wanted to say more. Come back to us felt too . . . intimate? But us was exactly what it felt like now. Her, Lucy, Finn.
And if anything happened to him . . .
Another person . . . gone?
She forced a breath and sent a quiet prayer heavenward, then flipped through a few news reports on her phone. Widespread flooding,
downed trees, power outages, water rescues.
This was like something from a movie.
Her attention traveled the length of the room to land on Lucy, who sat cross-legged on the rug watching Tangled with Winston beside her. Lucy’s favorite. It had definitely moved up Daphne’s favorite’s list because . . . well, Flynn Rider.
And smolders.
Daphne nodded and braced herself. Finn had trusted Daphne with the most important person in his world. So no matter how hard
her heart pounded or how tight her throat felt, she would keep it together. For Lucy. For Finn. For whatever came next.
But surely they’d be all right in an upstairs apartment on Main Street! The water, even if the dam broke, wouldn’t reach that
far, would it?
A sharp crack of thunder sent Winston to his feet and to her side, and Lucy’s eyes grew wide. “That was a big noise.”
Daphne reached down to rub a hand over the dog’s head and shot Lucy a smile. “I think we may hear a few big noises with all
this rain right now.”
The answer seemed to suffice for the little girl at the moment and she turned back to the movie. But the two had already talked
about how the rain makes very big mud puddles and if the puddles got too big, well, they’d need to find a place farther away
from those puddles to wait for Daddy.
Another bolt of lightning sliced through the sky, lighting up the hill behind the east side of Main Street.
And then—something else. Her stomach seized.
Not lightning. A flash of unnatural orange, almost like—
No. She shifted closer to the window, drawn to the sight as if in a trance. Was that one of the towers on the hill? Had it been struck?
And then a strange sort of movement sliced through the rain. Otherworldly.
She gripped the window frame, staring out, as the top of the ridge gave way, just like icing melting off a hot cake.
Earth, trees, rock—an entire section of hillside collapsed, taking with it trees and mud, crashing down behind the toy store two buildings over, sweeping through the backyard fences and uprooting a power pole.
And she kept staring, her stomach knotting tighter the longer she watched. Like she couldn’t process what she was seeing.
That one whole side of that massive hill just . . . fell.
Oh Lord, please keep people safe! From her limited view, the collapse didn’t appear to have taken buildings, but she couldn’t
see everything clearly.
Another unnatural flash of light sparked in the distance to her left, almost like the world was setting off some strange domino
light effect all around her. The boom popped in her ears.
Then the light shut off, the TV screen went black. The fan stilled. Every appliance stopped humming in the sudden hush.
And the late-afternoon light cast a gray hue across the room.
It wasn’t temporary this time. The power was gone.
Lucy looked up at Daphne in expectation.
“I think the storm might have caused the power to go out for a while,” Daphne said gently, crossing over to her and kneeling
down. Her insides trembled. But she stroked Lucy’s hair, working up her voice. “No big deal. We can read a book instead, can’t
we?”
Lucy didn’t seem to notice the tremor in Daphne’s voice, for the little girl simply nodded.
“I brought my Rapunzel book with me in my backpack.”
“What a great idea. Why don’t you bring it to the couch and we can pick up where the movie went off.”
Lucy stood and dashed over to her bag, Winston at her side like the guard dog he was not, and Daphne stepped back to her phone
on the counter to see if she could find out any more news. But there was nothing. No signal. No bars. Just a spinning wheel
where the service should be.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay. That’s fine. We’re fine.”
Her gaze raised back to the window. The street had taken on a strange sort of stillness. No shop lights, no car headlights. Not even people. Just the eerie glow of storm clouds and the distant flicker of fire dancing along the broken edge of the hill.
And at the moment, all Daphne could do was wait . . . and pray.
@WisteriaEmergencyServices: East Side Communication Update: Cell service and internet are currently down across much of the listening area due to damaged
tower. For updates and emergency alerts, please tune into 1040 AM—WNCWisteria Radio. We’ll be broadcasting hourly with evacuation
info, road closures, and shelter updates. Stay safe and stay informed. #WisteriaStrong #EmergencyUpdate
Finn had never seen anything like this in his life.
The river had swollen to three or four times its size. He’d even witnessed a storage building floating down it like a boat.
He blinked at the memory. He’d really seen that—and it was only one of the many surreal things he’d passed on his drive from
town to Granny D’s.
He couldn’t even count the number of trees in the road he’d dodged, a few times even driving off the edge to get around them.
A trip that should have taken fifteen minutes had stretched to nearly forty-five. By the time he reached the old bridge crossing
to her house, he’d nearly turned back twice, but there was no call for it. Someone had to help the woman! And if he was capable,
he’d certainly try.