Not from the sky, but from the ground as it began to break beneath them.
“Let’s go, Scurry girl,” he said, pushing her ahead of him.“Run!”
She ran and fell as the earth shifted off its axis, as the town’s buildings broke and crumbled, Idia rising from her grave. Gas explosions sent the ground cratering inward, morphing the hills around them. Sending rock crumbling down the hillside. Patrick picked her up, shoved her onward. “Go!” he yelled as they left her birthplace for good.
They passed the town limits, over a fallen fence and into the hills, the earth still rearranging. Patrick felt fire at his neck, the heat of it blistering his skin. He didn’t turn to see Scurry cave in on itself. Idia swallowing the parish whole.
The dirt and debris reared up behind them, spilling over the sunken hill, and they couldn’t outrun it. Couldn’t hope to make it all the way to the river.
Nina turned to grab his collar, to pull him down as the dust clouded around them, swallowing everything in sight.
They went to the ground together, his arm around her waist, hers over his head. And Patrick held his breath, waited for that wall of dirt to barrel into him, to bury them both.
But it didn’t come. He felt the rock and dirt slide by, but it never touched them. When the ground finally settled and the roar died, Patrick lifted his head.
All around them a curtain of dirt and dust hung in the air, refusing to fall, and Patrick could see nothing but her. Nina was panting, shaking, one hand outstretched to the nimbus of dirt. With a gasp, she let her hand fall, and the wave of earth flew sideways, and tumbled down the hill. It did not touch them.
Nina blinked like she was waking from a nightmare, her lips waxen and shaking. She finally returned his gaze.
Patrick felt a titanic breath leave him. His forehead fell to hers.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
But Patrick shook his head, already absolving her.
And she faded out of consciousness, her breaths mingling with his.
He carried her the rest of the way down the slope, now filled with the former inhabitants of Scurry, who looked back at their town with gaping mouths and horror in their eyes. He walked past them like a ghost.
At the dock, Gunner paced. He called out to Patrick the moment he and Nina came into view.
“Ma,” Patrick panted. “Where’s Ma?”
“She’s here,” Gunner grunted, running up the hill to meet Patrick.
He nodded to the smoke and fire of Scurry on the hill.
“Was it her?” he asked, awe in his voice. He looked down at the sleeping form in Patrick’s arms.
“Yeah,” Patrick answered. “It was her.” He tried to draw breath. “We have to leave,” he panted. “Now.”
Theo, Sam, and Scottie were waiting on the deck, their caps in hand, jaws limp at the sight of the sunken town.
Theo’s attention drew to Nina as Patrick came aboard with her. “Is she hurt?” Theo asked Patrick, going to them. “Nina?” he said softly, trying to rouse her.
Patrick felt like he might collapse where he stood. “In more ways than you could imagine,” he said. He looked right at Theo. “I need you to get us out of here,” he said.
Something passed between them. A truce of sorts. Theo glanced down one last time at Nina, then nodded. He went to the till.
“We’re goin’ home,” Patrick said.
“Pat… Ma said Dad was… was shot. She said he—”
“I shot him” was Patrick’s reply. He kept his eyes down. “I shot him myself. He’s dead.”
He felt the repercussions met out slowly, first to Gunner, then to Donny. They seemed unable to voice any response.
Calamity was all that remained now. They each swayed amongst it, barely keeping their feet, their breath. They glided upriver against the pull of the water, Theo charming it to part at the stern.
