Aiden looked over the side of the road, downhill through the trees at the tsunami. “But the tidal wave…”
"Hey, over here," Reese said, snapping his fingers to get the kid’s attention. "Eyes on me, Aiden. Look, something really, really bad is happening on the other side of those trees, and I don't know if we’re out of the danger zone yet. We need to keep moving to higher ground. Okay? You've got to help us, because my friend can’t walk.”
At last Aiden nodded. “O-okay. Okay, man."
He jumped in the driver’s seat, slammed the squeaking door, and shifted the car into drive. The Prius whined on the incline, its hybrid electric motor struggling to gain momentum up the steep road. The going was slow at first, but after the first three turns, Reese's fears began to recede.
The haze and smoke in the air that filtered through the trees just below the embankment seemed to dissipate as they climbed. At the fourth bend in the road, they found a slight scenic overlook. Reese couldn't help himself. "Hey, pull over here for a second."
Aiden let his foot off the gas and pulled over onto the gravel shoulder. Reese opened his door and stepped out, ignoring Ben's complaints. He stood speechless by the side of the road, staring down the side of Cadillac Mountain.
Two hundred feet below them, the Atlantic Ocean flowed past like a swift river, carrying broken trees, bits of buildings, and more boats than he could quickly count.
Reese estimated the water only moved about 20 to 30 miles an hour, but seeing the sheer volume of it, all moving inland at the same steady speed was simply staggering. As the water wrapped around the southern end of the island, debris, trees, and flotsam mixed and rumbled together, spinning and churning on the surface as it all pushed inland. Shockingly, Reese could almost see the water level rise as he watched, as the land forced water higher and higher up the banks. Lost out of sight to his left, around the east end of the island and up Seal Bay, was a small town nestled at the end of the bay. A lone tornado siren wailed in the distance, fighting to be heard over the constant roar of the water surging past.
Aiden honked the horn behind him, forcing Reese back to his senses. If it was this bad this far north, then Cami was right. This tsunami was a monster, and it was probably hitting the entire country at once. He couldn't fathom the sheer size of the wave—the eastern coastline was more than two thousand miles long! It couldn't be possible, and yet as he stood there next to Aiden’s dented, mint green Prius, there was no doubt the tsunami was real.
Cami had been right. After all the false alarms and breathless warnings that came to nothing…this time she’d nailed it. And it was bad.
Fear gripped his heart and sent a cold wave through his veins. Cami and Amber were down there near Charleston. How far inland would the wave go? He glanced out the window, ignoring Ben's question about damage as he shut the door. How could anything survive the onslaught that he’d just witnessed? As Aiden pulled the Prius back onto the road, he glanced out and saw another white line not quite at the horizon.
"There's another wave out there…”
"What?" Aiden blurted, momentarily losing his grip on the steering wheel. The car jerked as he brought it back under control, pulling around yet another turn as they made their way up the side of Cadillac Mountain.
“This trip sucks,” Ben moaned from the back seat.
Chapter 8
North Charleston, South Carolina
Cami emerged onto the western end of the bridge, legs caked with mud and dripping wet from the waist down. The crowds had thinned considerably as the water receded back across the bridge, but there were still hundreds of people struggling toward dry land.
Amber and Mitch appeared, both red-faced from exertion, helping each other on slippery footing. Amber offered a weak smile for Cami and paused to rearrange her ponytail, which had done its best to break free. They’d lost all the precious gear she’d risked their lives to get, but Cami counted that a bargain. And a lesson—one she wouldn’t soon forget.
“Sorry about the stuff, mom…” Amber said, dejected.
“Forget about it—the important thing is we’re all alive and safe,” Cami replied immediately. She brought Amber into a bear hug and buried her face in her daughter’s hair.
“Well, that was…something…” Mitch said with a huff. Sweat or seawater dripped from the tip of his nose and flecked his beard. Somewhere along the mad dash to escape the dying city he’d lost not only the bags he carried from the store, but his backpack as well.
Cami nodded, trying to catch her breath. Now that they’d made it to dry land west of the Charleston peninsula, the weight on her shoulders had slackened appreciably. People continued to stream past, but most stepped aside and pulled out phones to take pictures of the other side.
Cami couldn’t blame them—Charleston was a mess. Smoke hung in the air from several fires in the distance, and an ever-present haze obscured downtown, except for the tallest buildings that poked up through the brown-gray fog. The far shore of the river was covered in broken wood and trees, sides of buildings, whole roofs ripped from houses, cars, boats—the great undulating pile was too much to take in. It reminded Cami of the debris left on a beach after a hurricane’s storm surge—multiplied by about a thousand—and shouldn’t be anywhere near the northwest side of Charleston.
“Come on,” Cami said, feeling the grip of fear tightening her chest again. She ignored the people around them, complaining about not being able to make phone calls, and pushed forward.
