Chapter 6 - Lily
Lily
“Brace yourself,” he said.
I gripped the seat’s edge as we picked up speed. “You promised no more accidents.”
“I promised to save you first. That matters more.” Dean drove down the shoulder, back the way we came. “We passed a school a couple of miles back.”
“Dean,” I shrieked.
“Hang on.”
I hit the door and dashboard as we moved down the unpaved shoulder. The ancient vehicle’s worn-out shock absorbers subjected us to every pebble and dip.
“There’s a fence!”
He ignored me. The engine’s roar filled my ears as he aimed, smashing the chain-link fence to the ground as we moved into an open playground, where the vehicle slowed and jerked to a stop.
I pressed a hand to my chest and rocked. “What was that?”
“Me taking care of you.” Dean took my hands in his. His calm voice soothed me. “Have you experienced an earthquake?” I shook my head before he continued, “Those trees along the road will come down. The middle of the soccer field will be safer. Let’s go.”
I grasped his hand as we exited the vehicle, afraid of losing him. Behind us, more cars parked, and people followed.
Dean pulled me into his embrace, and I returned it, wanting comfort in this strange place. “Lily, I-”
I stared at the ground. “We have two shadows.”
One moved. The pale morning sun warmed us while the second one moved, dropping lower and lower.
“The trees by the school entrance,” I added.
Their shadows split in half, then merged, and split again. The second sun fell, lower and lower, until it disappeared.
“Close your eyes,” Dean said, covering mine with his palm. “That was east of us.”
“The Atlantic. How many strikes?” I struggled to recall. My thoughts crumbled into puzzle pieces I couldn’t put back together. I wailed Dean’s name and burrowed into his chest, demanding comfort from the man who broke my heart.
“Hey. Hey.” Dean’s voice bound me to him. I wish it didn’t. “No matter what happens, I’m right here with you. You aren’t alone.”
“Neither are you. I’m with you.” I threw myself at him despite all my hurt and anger, taking his strength for my own. Dean wrapped his arms around me, a security against what was to come. “Don’t let go of me.”
“Never.”
The yellow-blue sun left a trail in its wake, and another light appeared, shooting up into the sky, reminding me of a police car’s searchlights.
My stomach churned as we waited. “I want to go home.”
“Soon. Not yet.”
A white fireball appeared on the horizon’s edge and disappeared. Three more lights came, weaker than the first and strong enough to blind. One winked out, and then the second.
The third grew higher and taller into the sky and clouds until it, too, flickered out.
“Is it done now?” Like a child, I wanted to believe it was over.
The ground rumbled before he answered. The earth groaned. A flock of birds flew overhead.
The stink of ozone filled my nostrils. I retched as a force threw me to the ground. The groan changed to a roar, and the earth danced.
It swayed and spun and stopped, bringing an eerie silence with it.
Dean moved to lie over me and cupped my chin, so close his warm eyes filled my vision. I remembered those solemn eyes from last year. I trusted them once, and for a little while, I trusted them again.
“Are you hurt?” He asked.
“I don’t think so. A little dizzy. What about you?”
The earth moved once and stilled. The seconds ticked. One. Two. Three.
The world tilted, and Dean disappeared. The ground shook and roared and screamed.
I pushed myself up as my legs trembled and the earth grabbed and threw me, launching me into the cold, hard dirt.
The frenzy continued on and on until I realized it’d never end.
I curled into a ball as the world settled, and closed my eyes, willing the spinning to stop.
Someone called my name. I ignored him.
“What’s wrong?” Panic was in his voice. “Lily. Sweetheart, are you hurt? Tell me what’s wrong.”
He pulled my legs apart, sweeping his hands across my knees and up my thighs. I shrieked and kicked at him.
“It’s me. It’s just me.” Dean cupped my face and let out a sound meant to soothe. “Open your eyes and look at me.”
I sat up and pressed a hand to my temples. “Is it done?”
“There might be aftershocks. I don’t know. I’ve experienced earthquakes before, but nothing like that. Are you hurt?”
“A little shaken. You?”
“Same.”
I stood, wiping the grass and dirt off my body.
Other people followed, standing to take in the devastation and check for injuries. The main school buildings, all concrete block, stood, while the portables’ thin walls had fallen in and their roofs had collapsed. Playground equipment lay on its side.
“Do you think the earthquake reached Deer Lake? My dad is there. My home. Ryan might be there, too.”
“It’s further inland; I’m sure it’s fine,” he said.
I nodded, telling myself it was the truth. “We need to call 911 to report the damage. We should also check people for injuries.”
“Injuries?” He pinched my chin to prevent me from jerking away. “Your pupils are dilated.” He felt along my forehead and down my neck. “You’re pale.”
“I’m fine. A little shaky, that’s all.”
“That’s shock. We need to go.” He attempted to lead me back to the stolen car. “There’s an old blanket in the back seat you can use.”
I pulled away. “Not until we check on people. I won’t leave.”
A middle-aged man leaned over, head between his palms. I placed a hand on his arm. He jerked at my touch.
“Do you need help?” I asked, proud of my steady voice.
“My family is in North Carolina. Do you think?” His face twisted as tears threatened.
“You have a lot of mountains there, and it’s further from the strike zone. They’re safe,” I cooed.
“Head north. Stay off the major highways. Stick to county roads. You’ll get there,” Dean said in a gruffer tone.
The stranger nodded and left in a minivan.
A young couple approached, clinging to each other.
“You’re the one who left traffic,” the man said. “You knew. How did you know?”
“Dumb luck,” I said, not sure how to explain.
“Where are you headed?”
Dean stiffened. “North,” he said, and grabbed my elbow, pulling me against his side. “We have family in Kansas.”
I didn’t protest.
Neither of them noticed. “Well, I’m glad we followed you,” the young woman said as they left us.
“Look at the clouds,” I said.
Several people peered up at the sky.
Clouds appeared north and east of us. They formed, took shape, and disappeared.
“It’s like movie scenes.” I couldn’t come up with a better description. “The ones where the cameras speed the action up to create tension. I think a storm is coming, and ugly skies like this bring lightning. We can’t be out here. It’s time for us to go.”
Dean picked me up. A strange habit he’d developed. “We’re leaving now.” Back in the car, he settled a blanket over my legs and forced a bottle of juice into my hands. “Drink some. The sugar will help.”
I swallowed a quick gulp and put my hands on the steering wheel to prevent us from leaving. “I never thanked you for coming to get me. Not for how you did it. I won’t praise your methods because they’re wrong. But you remembered me when you didn’t have to, so thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said with visible discomfort.
“Drink some before we leave.” Dean took a small sip from the juice bottle. “All of it. Right now.” He finished it without protest. “That’s better. Now we leave.”
The rain started; fat drops as Dean started the car, echoing off the metal with a sharp ping. The sky darkened, and wind ripped through some faraway trees.
“We can’t go back,” he said. “Trees and cars. We need to find another way.”
“That was my thought. If we head north, we’ll get there.” I checked the rear seat. “We have food for a couple of days. How much do you eat?”
“I’ve gone hungry before.” He noticed my frown and explained, “A few missed meals are nothing. Let’s go.” Dean turned out of the elementary school parking lot. “There are towns and stoplights everywhere. Be on the lookout for fuel or an open store.”
The rain worsened, making conversation difficult. It slammed into us, and Dean kept the vehicle at a slow crawl. The exterior lights added only a modicum of visibility.
Tension rolled through me. I rolled down the window so warm water hit me.
“Roll that up. You’ll soak us.” He leaned over me rather than wait.
I licked a finger. “It’s salty. Saltwater, like from the ocean.”
“I think it is the ocean. One of the pieces landed close. Maybe it put water in the clouds, or something like that.”
We sat, neither of us in the mood to talk, as we inched forward. Dean drove around cars and onto the median a few times. More than once, we rode over bumps in the road. I never asked what they were.
We drove through a stoplight town, already dark and empty.
A rural hospital, with staff outside, waited for the casualties that would never arrive.
Dean took a left, and a tangle of cars greeted us. He turned back and continued on the same path.
Neither of us spoke.
Small black clumps hit the windshield, smearing muddy streaks and further reducing visibility.
“It’s mud from the ocean floor,” he said.
“I can jog faster than this.”
“We could have a contest. This jalopy against your legs.”
I broke into a grin, and he matched it.
The brief levity faded as we entered another town.
Bolts of lightning ripped through the dark sky, so many that the white flash blinded me. More struck, some close and others further away. A loud bang sounded, and a tree split, falling to the black concrete with a loud slam.
We looked at each other.
“Keep going,” I said. “It doesn’t matter where. North. I don’t care where we are.”
Town names didn’t matter as we didn’t have a map, and neither of us was familiar with the area.
The sky worsened, closer to a winter midnight than a summer storm. More lightning strikes hit, hundreds, breaking up the black abyss and creating a new hell.
Ten minutes later, we entered another town. A white house, flames leaping from its broken windows and ugly smoke rising from its side, greeted us first. If anyone survived, there was no sign.
“Dean, I don’t like this. We should turn around.” My voice sharpened with anxiety.
Several men gathered in a parking lot beneath a couple of giant umbrellas. Each held a weapon.
They didn’t appreciate our appearance. One left the umbrella’s sanctuary to stand by the road, so we noticed his shotgun.
“Stare forward. Soft smile,” Dean said. “We’ve done nothing wrong and have every right to be here. Pretend we’re honeymooners on our way to Charleston or Atlanta.”
“We’re not honeymooners.”
He grabbed my palm and put on an empty grin. “A pleasant walk in the park.”
“A pleasant drive in a wet hell.”
He chuckled. “Yesterday, I dreaded my next job. A month in the desert. Funny, huh?”
The man in his soaked clothes leaned down to peer into our car, frowning.
Dean kissed my palm. “We’re married, remember. Nothing to see here.”
I didn’t respond, deciding there was no point.
We ticked forward, and the rain picked up, gushing sheets against the car.
Deep pools of mud formed on either side of us. Bathtubs emptied, and the mud crept onto the concrete road.
Dean braked at a small creek. A bridge, maybe fifteen feet across, lay in front of us; the water already so high that it threatened to overwhelm the poor thing.
“How do you do it?” I asked.
“Do what?”
“In my head, ever since the school, I’ve told myself to be calm.
Panic leads to poor decisions, but inside, I’m panicking.
I watched the same stupid content that everyone else did.
I know what’s coming for us. This isn’t real.
None of it’s real, because if it is, how do I process it?
And you?” I faced him, accusing, despite knowing it wasn’t Dean’s fault.
“What about me?”
“You’re unbothered. No reaction at all. I’m not a fan of the word stoic, but it applies to you, I think.”
“Right now, all that matters is taking you home.” He described me like a soldier’s mission.
Lightning struck the opposite side of the creek, and an oak tree’s thick trunk landed on the bridge, leaving two narrow spaces on either side.
Sharp cracks of thunder echoed, stopping our conversation as the rain slowed.
“Hold on.” I rolled down the window enough to stick out a couple of fingers and tasted them. “Plain water.” I closed the window as an unexpectedly sharp gust of cold air entered.
He turned the car around. The gas gauge hovered a little above the E.
“We need to find another vehicle soon,” he said.
“You mean steal one?”
“I won’t ask you to do it.” Wind threw itself at the car. The sky darkened to an inky black, so thick that the exterior lights didn’t matter, deciding our next action for us. “We stop for the day. We passed an empty parking lot a hundred yards back.”
Moments later, he turned off the ignition, and we sat together, close enough to touch, both of us in shadows.
I opened our last juice bottle and took a delicate sip before passing it over. “Well?”
“Listen, about what I did.”
“You mean when you tied me up and kidnapped me? The part when I thought you would kill me. It’s fine; I accept your apology. Don’t do it again.”
“There’s more. About Thanksgiving last year.”
I tensed, knowing what he planned to say. “No, not right now.” An ache spread through me, bringing a sudden exhaustion with it.
We drove the previous night and witnessed the world’s end. My sore body couldn’t take any more, not yet. I couldn’t manage another apology. Either he ended it because I wasn’t enough, or he turned me into the other woman, and I wasn’t ready to hear that.
I wanted to go home, crawl into bed, and forget the world existed. I wanted my dad and Ryan, who spent our childhood smothering me. What difference did a holiday fling nine months ago matter now?
“I don’t want to talk. I’m tired, and I just…I can’t. Leave me be for once.”
“We aren’t finished.” He pinched my chin so I couldn’t look away.
“I am.” My eyes closed. Stuck with a man who refused to quit. “For now. Please.”
“For now.” Dean reached into the back seat for a blanket, spreading it over me. “So you aren’t cold. What else can I do?”
“Sleep.” Escape.
I snuggled under the blanket, pulled my knees to my chest, and stared at the black world outside.