The Survivor Chronicles: Book 1, The Upheaval (15 page)

“Run!” Al shouted.

Her dark eyes bulged as her jaw dropped. He grasped hold of her arm and pulled her back a step. The roar of the train was becoming so loud that it was drowning out the terrified screams that had preceded it.

“Run!” he shouted at her.

Mary Ellen shook her head, seeming to break out of her stupor as she took a small step back, grabbed Rita’s arm, and spun on her heel. Al grabbed Rita’s other arm and propelled her down the street as rapidly as he could. The noise was rising, becoming a resonating crescendo that drowned out all thought and reason. The ground was shaking, he could feel it trembling beneath his feet, but he didn’t think it was another earthquake causing the trembling this time.

He didn’t know what it was, but he found his feet wouldn’t move fast enough as the imposing presence of something powerful barreled down on them. Something crashed, it sounded as if houses were being ripped from their foundations. They turned the corner, the guns bounced against his back as he continued onward. He’d never felt old, in fact he prided himself on his youthful outlook on life, but he wasn’t as fast as he once was. His knees ached in ways they hadn’t twenty years ago, and he was winded far sooner than he would have liked.

“Up here!”

Al jerked Rita, and in turn, Mary Ellen to a stop at the shout. He spotted people gathered on the roof of the brick school building beside them. “The dumpster, use the dumpster!” The man that shouted at them ran down the roof of the building toward a cluster of dumpsters at the end. Al tugged Rita forward; he wished the woman had waited to have her complete mental breakdown. “Hurry!” the man urged.

“What’s happening?” Mary Ellen inquired, her voice barely carried over the increasing roar.

“Just climb!”

She didn’t have to be told twice as she dropped the pillowcase of supplies on top of the dumpster, placed both hands on it, and hefted herself up. She turned back to help Al push and shove Rita up to her. “Rita come on,” Mary Ellen grated, pulling on her arms as the two of them finally managed to get her onto the dumpster. “Get it together before you get us killed!”

The man on the roof knelt down and extended his hand. Rita remained unmoving, her eyes glazed as she stared blankly at the wall before her. Mary Ellen met Al’s gaze over top of her head as he joined them on top of the blue container. He grabbed hold of Rita’s arm and lifted it into the air; it fell limply back to her side. Frustration filled him, he longed to be able to pick the woman up and heave her onto the roof, or shake some sense into her, but he didn’t do either of those things as the train became a roaring plane engine that reverberated in his ears.

“Go!” he shouted at Mary Ellen, a crushing sense of doom descending upon him as screams echoed through the streets.

Mary Ellen stared at Rita before she grabbed the supplies, jumped up, and seized hold of the man’s arm. Another man, and a woman, appeared to help Mary Ellen scramble off the dumpster and onto the roof. She disappeared briefly from view as she collapsed. Al grabbed hold of Rita’s arm and picked it up once more. The man leaned further over, the other two held his ankles as he sought to grab hold of Rita.

“Come on lady, give me a hand here.” The man grunted as the edge of the roof pressed into his stomach. Frustration filled Al, he tried to heave her up but she remained as still as stone. “What is wrong with her?”

It was shock, Al knew that. Her mind had frayed, but he didn’t know how to make it better. Mary Ellen reappeared; she flung one leg over the side of the building. “Stay up there!” Al yelled at her.

“You need help,” Mary Ellen insisted.

There was no help for this, but she didn’t realize that yet. Al was beginning to, and the man most certainly did as he turned away from Rita and thrust his hand out to Al. “Give me your hand!”

Al grabbed hold of the man’s thick forearm. He wrapped his other arm around Rita’s waist in a last ditch attempt to get her onto the roof. The man grunted; his other hand seized hold of Al’s arm as he grappled to lift the two of them from the dumpster. Mary Ellen leaned over; she grasped for Rita as Al was lifted a few inches into the air.

The man’s face flushed red; his arms were shaking with the strain he was exerting to hold onto them. “You have to help Rita,” Al muttered to her. She remained silent, he found he actually missed the annoying little shrieks, at least then she had been showing some sign of life. There was nothing now. His arms ached; each one of them felt as if they were going to be pulled from their sockets. Rita probably didn’t weigh a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet, but her dead weight felt more like three hundred pounds right now.

“I don’t…” the man broke off. Sweat was pouring down his face, sticking his light brown hair to his forehead. Al knew what he’d been about to say, he didn’t think he could do this, and neither did Al, as they hung over the dumpster. Mary Ellen’s fingers were just above him, she lurched awkwardly, sliding precariously to the side as she seized hold of the collar of his shirt. The material bit into his neck, but he welcomed the choking feeling. He felt at least a little more secure now as he dangled like a worm on a hook.

“Rita…” What he was about to say was cut completely off as a wave of water smashed around the corner. A strangled cry escaped him, his legs kicked in the air as the urge to run instinctively took over. Mary Ellen jerked on his collar, causing him to sputter as the man’s hands dug fiercely into his arm. Rita came back to life, but where he had prayed she’d become helpful, she instead became like a drowning victim. An ear piercing scream escaped her, her fingers dug into his arm wrapped around her waist; her nails raked back his flesh, drawing a stream of blood from him. Pain tore through him as she kicked wildly, clawing at his arm and battering his shins.

“Hey! Hey, stop!” The man shouted. “I can’t hold on! Stop lady!”

Rita’s screams and motions became more frenzied. “Stop it, Rita!” Al shouted at her as the man’s hand slipped on his forearm. “Calm down!”

She elbowed him remorselessly in the gut, knocking the air from him. If the man hadn’t been holding so tight, and Mary Ellen’s hand hadn’t been wrapped in his shirt, he would have fallen as his fingers instinctively released their grasp on the man’s forearm. His arm slipped, he dropped a little bit. The arm around Rita’s waist numbly released its hold. She fell back to the dumpster, still shrieking as she began to pull at her hair.

“Rita!” Mary Ellen screamed. Rita spun in a small circle before she jumped down from the dumpster and fled. “Rita!”

The man readjusted his hold on Al and heaved him over the side of the building. The weight of the guns pressed against his back as he collapsed, bleeding and gasping for air. The building was rocked on its foundation; he was certain the school was going to fall down as water splashed over the side and spattered his face. The salty, tangy taste of the ocean coated his lips as he struggled to push himself into a sitting position.

Water roared over and through the streets, it flowed around the building, tore away the dumpster and demolished the smaller obstacles in its path. Mary Ellen scrambled to her feet, she ran to the edge of the roof to watch as Rita fled down the street. Al rose shakily, his whole body ached.

Rita’s screams were drowned out by the water barreling down upon her. Al held his breath, praying that she would make it, knowing that she wouldn’t. It was too late, there was nowhere for her to go. Rita glanced over shoulder; she stumbled over an upturned chunk of asphalt and sprawled onto the road. Mary Ellen screamed as the oncoming wave crashed into Rita and swept her up. She swirled briefly to the top, her arms flailed in the air before she was swallowed beneath the crushing weight of the water.

Mary Ellen’s scream abruptly cut off, the color drained from her face; her lips were nearly white as they trembled with her unshed tears. “Why?” she whispered. “Why would she do that?”

Al rested his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently as he tried to offer her some reassurance, some strength. He didn’t have an answer for her. “I don’t know.”

She turned away, her gaze dropped to the water. It was not the powerful, consuming rush it had been but it still swirled around them in a dirty forth of foam and debris. Disgust twisted her features as bodies began to float by. “Awful,” she muttered before retreating to the other side of the roof.

She dropped to the roof, drew her legs up and dropped her arm over them. Al turned to the man that had saved his life and stuck his hand out. “Thank you.”

The man nodded as he shook his hand. “Wish I could have helped her too.”

“I wish I could have kept hold of her.”

“You might want to take care of that.” The man nodded to the deep gouges on Al’s arms. The only thing they had left of Rita. He nodded numbly and made his way over to Mary Ellen. She was already digging through the sack, looking for the first aid kit. His whole body hurt, he felt every one of his seventy-two years. His knees popped as he settled beside her.

She tended the scratches carefully as the two men began to prowl around the roof. The woman sat opposite them, her eyes shadowed and haunted as she watched Mary Ellen. “Are you father and daughter?” the woman inquired.

“Neighbors,” Al informed her.

“That woman… the one that was with you,” she said hesitatingly.

“Also a neighbor.” The woman nodded as her attention drifted to the men gathered at the other end of the roof. “Are the three of you family?”

“The one that pulled you up is my husband Bill, the other one is his friend, Paul.”

Mary Ellen wrapped a bandage around his arm and sat back. Al leaned his head against the edge of the roof and then climbed back to his feet. He joined the men at the edge of the roof. He had no desire to see more bodies, but they couldn’t stay up here forever. The water slapped against the building, but showed no sign of receding as it flooded the streets around them.

“I’m pretty sure that was a tsunami,” the man identified as Paul muttered.

Bill shook his head. “I don’t know what else it could have been.”

Al moved to the other side of the building. More water. Things just kept going from bad to worse. He sat by Mary Ellen again. “It should recede soon.”

“I can’t stay here Al,” Mary Ellen murmured.

“I know, but we can’t go anywhere as long as there’s an ocean beneath us.”

“What if it doesn’t recede?”

“It has to,” he assured her.

“I hope so. Are you hungry?” she asked.

He glanced at the pillowcase and then at the people surrounding him. They seemed safe enough, they had helped to save his life after all, but he didn’t know how trustworthy anyone was right now. “Why don’t we wait and see if this water recedes soon.”

She glanced around the rooftop before grabbing the sack and pulling it toward her. “Rita…” She moved closer to him, her arm pressed against his as she sought some sense of comfort. “She was getting on my nerves; all I wanted was for her to be quiet.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t want this though,” she whispered.

He squeezed her hand comfortingly. “I know, neither did I. And she was getting on my nerves too. There’s nothing either of us could have done.”

“Maybe I could have gotten her to snap out of it.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. Rita couldn’t handle this; it was only a matter of time before she was lost.” It was cold, he knew that, but it was also true. “We don’t have time to mourn, not now. This world, it’s no longer the one we knew.”

Her hand clenched around his. “I feel worse about Rita than my own husband. What’s that say about me?”

“That your husband was an ass.”

She snorted with laughter. “Yeah, that he was,” she agreed. “What do you think is going on?”