Over and over again I cry out for her, my voice growing hoarse and my tongue, despite all the rain, turning dry and fat inside my mouth. As I call, I forge ahead, picking out the safest route step by step, one arm up to block my face from the full force of the wind. Chimneys are sticking out of the water here and there like stalks of grass—a good sign since it means at least I’m covering new territory.
I’ve got a new concern now too. The water inside the boat is too deep to ignore any longer. It’s weighing me down; the boat is inch by inch sinking, the gunwale now no more than a foot above the surface of the flood. One good wave and I'll be sunk.
With a bucket I find lodged under my seat, I bail out the water as quickly as I can, steering with one hand while I scoop and dump with the other.
“Shannon! Shannon!”
It’s a good thing I bail out when I do, for no sooner have I dropped the bucket when a giant crack sounds off to my right. It’s followed by a even louder whump as somewhere in the forest a tree goes crashing down. The next moment, a large swell slams into the boat, nearly sending me overboard.
“Shannon! Shannon!”
What the fuck am I doing out here? Seriously. Do I really think I’m going to just magically find her in this mess? I'm not even sure I’m in the right vicinity…
“Help…”
There’s no way in hell I'm going to find her. Hell, there’s a good chance I won’t even make it out of here myself. How much longer until I’m in trouble too?
“Help…”
It doesn’t matter how dangerous it gets. I’m staying until I either find her or I drown. How could I live the rest of my life knowing I had given up?
“Help…”
I just have to keep going. Keep fighting. No matter what. As long as I believe, as long as I have an ounce of strength left in my—
“Kyle…”
The sound of my name floating over the water is what finally snatches me from my thoughts. Snapping my head to the left, I scan the darkness. Had I really just heard what I thought I’d heard? Had someone really just called my na—
“Kyle, help…”
This time it's unmistakable, and not just my name, but the voice that says it too.
“Shannon! Shannon!” I shout as I turn the boat towards the source. “Shannon! Shannon, I’m here!”
She must be close if I can hear her. As I edge forward, the engine as low as possible, I strain my eyes to their limit, searching every nook and cranny for any sign, any clue as to where she might be. When my name doesn’t come again after a couple of minutes, I stop the boat and listen.
Come on come on come on, I whisper. Where are you?
More minutes pass. More nothing. Afraid I’ve passed her, I double back. I’m pleading with God, with Shannon, with the storm itself. Please, please, where are you? Where are you?
“Kyle…”
Finally, just as the hope starts to drain out of me, I hear her. She’s behind me it seems, and sounds even more pathetic than before.
“I’m coming, Shannon! I’m coming!”
I swing the boat around, a wave catching the prow of the boat and sending a spray washing over me.
“Keep talking to me, baby!” I yell into the face of the storm. “I’m coming!”
“Kyle…”
I rev the engine and the boat skips forward. Suddenly, a tree appears out of the darkness. I jerk the motor handle and miss it by inches.
“I’m almost there! Keep calling my name, baby! Just keep calling!”
“Kyle…help…”
“I'm almost there, baby! Just hang on!”
“Kyle…”
And then, just like that, there she is, huddled in the upper reaches of a magnolia tree, its branches waving wildly in the wind. The neon rain suit she has on is a beacon amidst the blackness.
Seeing her, I’m filled with pity. As I draw closer and she takes a more definitive shape, this pity swells. It’s clear she’s soaked through to the bone and is as miserable as she’s ever been. As I near, she looks at me. Her eyes are bloodshot, her pupils glittering in the beam of the flashlight. She’s shivering, one arm wrapped around the magnolia, the other wrapped protectively around herself.
“Shannon!”
Despite her pathetic state, seeing her face for the first time in person takes my breath away. Oh my god, I think, she’s so much more beautiful than I realized.
Our eyes meet, hers lighting up in a mixture of belief and disbelief as recognition dawns. No, I can hear her thinking. No, it can't be.
I gun the motor. Ten yards and I would be at her side.
“Shan—“
I’m cut off by a roar from the earth itself as somewhere to our left a full-grown tree uproots.
“No!” I cry as a massive oak comes crashing into view. Uselessly, I reach out a hand, knowing already that it’s too late. Its two-foot-wide trunk is aimed straight for the magnolia.
Thankfully, Shannon is better prepared than I am. Upon hearing the ripping of its roots from the ground, her head snaps around just in time to take note of the oak falling towards her. Without a moment’s hesitation, she flings herself away from the magnolia, her reaction coming not half a second too soon as the trees connect in the next instant right where she’d been sitting.
My hand still outstretched, I watch in horror as she tumbles the ten feet down into the flood, her arms and legs flailing.
“Shannon!” I scream, jumping to my feet as she hits the murky water and is immediately swallowed.
With no time left to think, I dive in after her.
15.
Shannon
“Shannon!”
When I first hear his voice filtering through the trees, it’s like a whisper of a dream echoing over the rolling hills of the heartland. Such is the way my half-conscious, long-delirious brain interprets the sound. My eyes are clamped shut, my forehead pressed to the tree. I have no idea how much time has passed, no idea how long this wind and rain have been pelting me with their stinging barbs. In hell, time was meaningless. Wasn’t it Dante who had said something like that?
The physical consequences of the storm are bad enough, but what’s worse is the effect it’s having on my mind. Clinging to this tree in this blackness, the wind unrelenting like an over-angry stepfather, it’s not long before my mind wanders to all the things I’ve never done and may now never get to do.
So many things I always said I’d do. Why? Why did I squander my chances? Why hadn’t I gone to Kyle sooner?
It’s a fair question, and now that I’m stranded, one I can’t escape from considering. Why hadn’t I gone to him sooner? What purpose had waiting served? The worst part about it was that there’d been no particular reason for the delay. I had just been scared. Scared that the safe life I’d crafted for myself would implode and I’d be forced to start from scratch. Well, now I knew just how safe my world had really been.
If Mom could see you now, she’d be having a downright conniption. And she would have every right too. Turns out she did raise a fool. Did you think you could just politely ask the water to leave you alone?
If I survived this, I would never again act like I had all the time in the world. Now I knew just how quickly it could all be taken away. Life was to precious and short not to spend every second of it living, which meant not being scared of what might or might not happen.