Read Online Dark Water Rising by Marian Hale - Free Book Online Page B

resentment over the way she leaned on me.
    I remembered Matt, that glimpse I’d gotten of the generous man he was becoming, and the appreciationI’d seen on Lucas’s face. Even at ten, he already knew what was important in this life.
    And Kate.
    I closed my eyes against the driving rain. I smelled her sweet watermelon breath, felt her little hands around my neck, heard her baby voice saying, “I waited and waited.”
    The memory caught in my throat, and I felt like I’d stepped into another deep hole.
    Time seemed suspended, circling our struggle, watching for weakness. I glanced at Josiah, truly sorry I’d gotten him into this. My legs ached from fighting the current, my whole body felt bruised and battered, and I knew it had to be the same for him.
    All around us people fell, struck down by flying slate, brick, or shutters. Others drowned, knocked off their feet and carried under by the broken roofs, galleries, or privies that swept down the street faster than a man could run. Water swirled around my hips, leaving me powerless to offer aid and weak with the thought that, at any moment, either one of us could disappear beneath the swift brown river and be gone.

Chapter
11
    Josiah stumbled, and I hooked a drenched arm through his. He grabbed it, and we leaned into each other, pushing hard through the wind and rising water. Slate and shattered lumber hit all around us. Submerged objects struck my legs, sharp and piercing one minute, fleshy and stomach-churning the next. Then, gratefully, I’d feel them slide away, caught up in the current again.
    During a short lull, I stopped to get my bearings, squinting through the rain, and at last, hope pounded in my chest. “Look!” I shouted. “There!”
    Josiah pulled hard at my arm, dragging me toward the house. We struggled past the fence, across the yard, and took the stairs up and out of the water. My legs felt like tree stumps, and when I closed the door behind us, my ears rang.
    “Mama! Papa!” I yelled.
    I stumbled from room to room but found no one—nothing till I saw a note tacked to my bedroom door. I tore it off and read Papa’s hurried scrawl out loud to Josiah.
    Seth,
    Gone to Nate’s. Hope to find you safe there. If not, trust you will seek sturdier shelter with Peeks or Vedders. God be with you.
    Papa
    I stared at the note, picturing Mama, Papa, and the kids with slate flying around their heads and debris washing down flooded streets toward them like freight trains.
    Had I passed them out there and not realized it?
    The woman swept away—I hadn’t seen her face.
    The child—was the hair dark? Was it Kate?
    I closed my eyes till the sick wave of fear eased. Still shaky, knees weak, I walked back through the house. Dinner sat on the table, uneaten. A cake and a pitcher of boiled custard waited on the stove. Matt’s baseball lay in the seat of a chair, and beside it, a small handful of wilted jasmine.
    Kate’s funeral flowers.
    I picked up the brown blossoms, stuffed them inone pocket, and poked the ball in the other. Then I noticed that my pants were torn and my leg oozed blood. I looked at Josiah, at all his scrapes and cuts. We’d had a rough time of it, but we’d made it.
    “So they’s with Mister Braeden?” he asked.
    “I hope so,” I said, staring at the note.
    “So we needs to get to the Vedders’.”
    I shook my head. “Aunt Julia said the Peeks have a real sturdy house. Might be better there.”
    Josiah cocked his head and looked at me. “My bones is sayin’ Vedders.”
    I gave him a surprised look, and he laughed at me, easylike, his eyes full of something warm I’d only sensed before. I felt it sifting through me, easing my aches and worry. “Okay,” I said finally, grinning at him. “The Vedders it is, then.”
    We turned, headed for the door, when the window exploded. I ducked, covering my head while glass shot past Josiah, clear across the house. He caught a piece in his forehead, and blood streamed down his face and into