“The dam,” Red said, his voice had a tremble in it. “It’s going to top the dam.”
A tremor of apprehension went up Bridget’s spine. “What’s below the dam?” But suddenly, she knew.
“Campgrounds.” Red was already turning back to the car. “Claire and Jenny. Frannie.” He started to run. “Come on.”
But where could they go? The road was gone.
Suddenly, another tremor shook the ground, throwing her to her knees. The boys yelled and Red shouted for everyone to stay down. The trees around them shuddered and the ground heaved. Bridget held on to the ground until the shaking stopped.
When it did, she stayed on her hands and knees.
“We have to warn them,” Red said, pushing himself to standing. “There’s fishing lodges and houses all along the canyon. And then Ennis. Hundreds of people. Maybe thousands.” He came to her and reached down to help her up.
She didn’t give him her hand.
“What are you doing?” He looked like he’d carry her to the car if he had to. But she had something more important to do.
“Praying,” Bridget said, still kneeling. She’d never been so close to death, and she wasn’t going one step farther before she asked God’s forgiveness for her sins. “If I die tonight, I want to be ready.”
chapter 41:FRANNIE
God, I don’t want to die.
Gritty water filled Frannie’s mouth. Her shoulder hit something hard. Panic surged in her chest as she held her breath.
God, please help me!
She tried to swim, but the water was coming at her from every direction. Her lungs burned. She gulped air and went under again. She floundered, then her feet scraped on rocks. Relief shot through her. But where was the shore? Her eyes could be closed, it was so black, or maybe she was blind.
God, I don’t want to be blind.
She pushed herself to standing, but her knees buckled and she was crawling. Her heart knocked in her chest, pain making its way to her panicked brain now that she wasn’t fighting for breath. Her hands hurt and her feet felt like they’d been cut with knives. Her fingers sunk into mud, the water now only inches deep. She felt rocks, and then grass. She let herself collapse on dry ground.
She was alive. It was over.Please, God, let it be over.
She strained to see. She wasn’t blind, but it was so dark. The air was murky and thick with the scents of mud and pine and gasoline. Where was Paul? Claire and Jenny and Beth, what had happened to them? Jerrylynn and Vicky and all the campers?
Slowly, she became aware of voices around her. A man calling, “Verona!” Far-off, a woman crying out, “Help us!”
She shivered in the cold night air. Would someone come and find her?
Minutes went by. No one called her name. She moved her legs and then her arms. She pushed herself up to her hands and knees. She stood. The world spun a little, but she was standing. She wasn’t dead.
“Miss?” A man’s voice in the dark. “Miss, can you walk?”
“I think... so.” Her voice was hoarse, and her mouth didn’t work right. She took a step. Her feet sank into wet mud. “What happened?”
Before he could answer, it started again. The shaking. “No,” she whispered.Not again, please.She clutched at the stranger.
“It’s an aftershock,” he said, releasing her when the world stopped trembling. “Get to higher ground. I’ve got to find my wife.”
“Don’t leave me.” The words came out in a hoarse croak, but the man—whoever he was—was already gone, calling, “Verona!” into the dark. A coyote howled not far away and her wet skin prickled with goose bumps. She sat down and pulled her knees to her chest, curling up with despair and fear. She pushed her face into her knees. She would close her eyes and count to ten, then she’d wake up and find out this had all been a terrible nightmare.
She counted to ten. Lifted her head and opened her eyes.
It wasn’t a dream. It was a dark and horrible reality.
Where were Claire and Jenny and Beth? She tried to remember. She’d been looking at the trailer when the earthquake started. And Paul. He was right beside her. Vicky and Jerrylynn were asleep in the tent. She tried to get her bearings, but nothing looked familiar. Then she realized she could see. The moon was back. Not full and bright as it had been, but weak and shrouded.
