Flood Plains by Mark Wheaton (best reads txt) 📗

“We’re not getting anything, either,” replied the Coast Guard. “We’re considering a landing.”

Despite the heavy cloud cover, infrared satellite photos revealed that flooding associated with Eliza was significant, with much of Houston and its outlying areas underwater. Emergency services that had been mobilized in Travis County outside the storm’s path were readied for deployment as soon as the governor authorized their release. The problem was, the storm was proving to be a peculiar bird.

It had washed across Galveston and crept over Houston, slowing as it reached the city. All of this was easily anticipated hurricane behavior. Only, once it was over the most populated areas, it came to a complete standstill, which hurricanes sometimes did as well, only this one wasn’t losing wind speed in the process. It wasn’t dissipating. What threw the meteorologists was that a hurricane drew its energy from the warm waters it passed over on the ocean. Dry land was a storm-killer. The only way it could exhibit this kind of behavior was if it had found a new energy source.

Despite the conflicting theories about what this energy source could be, everyone agreed that it was unlike any storm system they’d previously encountered.

The Coast Guard dispatched the lone Hamilton-class cutter in the area, the Van Ness, from its storm port of Baton Rouge to Galveston. Upon arrival, it immediately reported that the Galveston Island Causeway had been destroyed by the hurricane, which surprised many. The bridge arced a hundred feet over the water and was specifically designed to withstand winds even greater than what Eliza brought. The consensus was that the collapse wasn’t caused by wind or rain but by the collapse of one or more pylons. It was assumed they must have been taking a beating from any number of heavy or sunken objects dredged up in the Intercoastal Waterway by the storm.

It was now being decided if sailors from the Van Ness could attempt a landing on Galveston Island itself. The ruined piers and likelihood of newly treacherous submersibles sunk just below the surface meant docking the cutter was out. However, a lieutenant had outlined a plan involving the ship’s Zodiacs that could ferry sailors directly onto the beaches.

The ship’s captain weighed this idea but felt the boats were too exposed and an attempt too dangerous under current sea conditions. When this changed, they would reassess.

The lieutenant protested but was told in no uncertain terms that the ship had sighted no immediate signs of emergency or distress coming from the island, so why risk men? They could be interfering unnecessarily with the work of the local civic government.

The fact that they hadn’t seen any signs of life at all didn’t set off any alarm bells.

•  •  •

Alan’s pain was excruciating, far worse than anything he’d felt before. He kept waiting to pass out from shock but never did. What made it worse was that there was no telling when it would ebb. There was no hospital he could be taken to, much less a drugstore where he could tank up on ibuprofen or, better yet, codeine.

“I’m sorry, Alan,” said Sineada. “There’s just not a lot I can do for you.”

Alan nodded, gritting his teeth. The raft hadn’t gone far from Sineada’s place, and he even imagined swimming back in there to raid her medicine cabinets. Except, he knew just how dangerous that might prove to be.

Mia was near-hysterics. She’d been crying uncontrollably since the monstrous, tentacled creature slithered away. The tears streaming down her face, mixing with the rain splashing against it, gave her a mask of anguish. Alan hated seeing his daughter so distraught.

Sineada tried to pray. She wasn’t addressing any God. She didn’t believe that was what prayer was for. No, she was looking for the answers inside herself. How could she help Alan? What was she missing?

That’s when it hit her. She was reminded of something she’d heard once about people who could commune with the spirits. Something that she had tried to do as a younger woman, only to discover it was outside her realm of abilities.

Mia, she surmised, might be a different story.

“Mia, come here a moment,” she said softly.

As if surprised to hear her name, Mia wiped her eyes and rose. The upturned roof was unsteady in the water, so she had to get her balance before moving next to Sineada.

“Take your father’s hand, but look into his eyes. You’re going to go in there and calm his nerves.”

Alan shook his head.

“What’re you doing to her?”

“Just relax,” Sineada whispered. She turned back to Mia. “Right now, your daddy’s body is screaming out. You’re going to get in there and shush ’em on down, ease the pain of all those nerve endings. Can you do that?”

Mia stared at her, bewildered.

“I can’t do that.”

“Five minutes ago, did you think you could stop that thing by screaming your thoughts at it?”

“No, but…”

“I didn’t think so. We don’t know what you can do, but it’s worth trying, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yeah.” A whisper.

“Now, take his hand.”

Mia did, wrapping the fingers of his right hand in hers.

“I’m sorry about your legs, Daddy.”

“It’s okay. I can take of myself.”

Alan didn’t think this would do any good, but he was determined to manifest some kind of reaction. He knew how helpless his daughter must feel. This might give her some strength.

“Now, the pain’s an illusion,” Sineada began quietly. “You’re not actually in pain, but looking at your body, you think you should be in pain. If you just relax and lessen the tension coursing through your muscles, you’ll know what I’m saying is true.”

Alan did this, having not realized that he had been keeping his body rigid since the attack. He let himself go just a little limp, and was rewarded as the pain really did seem to ease away.

Sineada saw this and nodded. “A little more?”

Alan looked up at Mia, but her eyes were closed. He relaxed more and was rewarded a second time. The pain was still present, but he had to tense to