Chapter 15 #2
“Thunderstorm.” Sarah raised her voice, phone in hand. “Major one. It was supposed to pass south of us, but it changed direction. It’s coming right at us.”
“Is it a hurricane?” Emma’s voice cut through the noise, high with panic. “Hurricanes aren’t supposed to happen this time of year!”
“It’s not a hurricane,” Carlos called back. “Pack up your belongings. Don’t worry about the tents.”
“Are we heading back to Key West?” Cynthia called.
“No. Ferry can’t come in this weather,” Sarah explained just as the first drizzles of rain came down. Lightning split the sky. For a moment everything was bright as day. Thunder followed immediately, so loud Lizzie thought she felt the island vibrate.
Shouting erupted from the crowd as people packed up in a panic.
“Remain calm. We’ve all been through a thunderstorm before. The most important thing is to get into the house quickly,” Sarah said, exuding calm. However, Lizzie didn’t quite buy it.
“This is more than a thunderstorm, isn’t it?” Lizzie whispered to her.
“It’s more like an unseasonable tropical storm. The house can withstand it though. We’ll have electricity as long as the grid holds and after that we have to get creative,” Sarah replied.
Another flash lit the sky and thunder followed. Or was it the other way around? Lizzie had been so focused on getting her things and then rushing to her assigned task, she hadn’t even noticed what came first.
A few minutes later, they were heading for the house, the wind picking up around them. Sarah had managed to get the guests organized, some were even helping the staff carry coolers with food and other supplies toward the house.
“Move!” Carlos was herding people toward the path that led inland.
Lizzie ran alongside Sarah, while Carlos brought up the rear with his crew. Rain started falling, gently at first but then harder. By the time they neared the house it pounded down so hard she could barely see.
The palm trees waved in the wind in a manner that could only be described as apocalyptic. A lawn chair tumbled across the sand like a piece of paper.
The abandoned mansion appeared ahead, even more ominous now with lightning illuminating its empty windows. Water poured through the gaps where glass should be.
Sarah stood at the front door, counting people as they ran inside. Her hair was plastered to her head, her clothes soaked through.
“Keep moving! All the way in! Make room!”
Lizzie stumbled through the door into a massive entryway. The floor was concrete. Sheets of plastic hung from some doorways. But the roof was solid and the walls were up. The renovations taking place seemed to be mostly cosmetic. The inside appeared sturdy enough.
“Now,” Sarah called as loud as she could while flicking on the lights. They flickered immediately. “This house was built to withstand a category five storm. And this is nothing like that.”
“But there are windows missing,” a guy with a bleached surfer hairdo called.
“Which we will tend to now,” Carlos called as he headed off with a couple of other guys.
“What if the lights go out?”
“What if the storm makes landfall on this island?”
“Are we going to die?”
“Why did nobody prepare for this?”
Voices overlapped, questions piled up. But Sarah was in control. She climbed up the stairs and turned, clapping her hands together.
“Hey. Listen up. This storm will not make landfall anywhere. It’s not a hurricane or even really a tropical storm. Those happen in the summer, during hurricane season.”
“We’re in the tropics, so clearly it’s a tropical storm,” Cynthia said. She rolled her eyes with several others agreeing with her.
“You can call it that if you want,” Sarah conceded.
“In any case. We will have lights for as long as we do. After that, we have two generators and plenty of fuel. We’ll have to ration, but we will make do.
There are fold out beds in the pool house, pillows, blankets.
Extra good. We have books and board games.
Carlos and his guys are going to use some plywood to board up the windows, if anyone wants to help, I know they’d appreciate it. ”
“I still don’t see how this happened,” Emma cried now. “I signed up for a vacation in the tropics, not death by tropical storm.”
“Alright, alright. Let’s calm down,” Lizzie shouted.
“Weather changes. This storm wasn’t supposed to come here.
Remember when we were supposed to have an epic snowstorm this past winter?
Food flew off the shelves, and we were all banking on some time off from school due to snow?
At least those of us in New York?” She looked at a group she knew was from the city who nodded.
“Yeah. Not a single snowflake,” a guy reported. “It was garbage.”
“For us, yes. But they got all the snow up in Vermont three days later. So, let’s remember that we can’t control the weather.”
Sarah looked at her with a grateful smile and stepped beside her.
“Lizzie’s right. So, what we’re going to do instead is make the best of it, alright? Now, head upstairs with your things. We’ll bring blow ups, roll aways and whatever we have up. There’s fifty of you and seven bedrooms upstairs. You can do the math on that. That’s not my strength.”
A few people laughed and Lizzie couldn’t help but feel proud of Sarah.
“Make yourselves comfortable. The catering crew will get situated down there. My guys and I will set up down here. Come on down for breakfast by eight.”
“And then?” That came from Cynthia. Of course.
“Then we’ll reassess. I’ll find out how long this weather is going to last and when we can get off the island and back to Key West. For now, please stay calm.”
The panic subsided, but Lizzie could see the tension in Sarah’s shoulders. Could see the way she kept checking her phone, watching the radar.
This wasn’t just weather. This was a hundred people trapped in an unfinished house during a storm that wasn’t supposed to be here.
And they were stuck until morning.