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He's okay, thank you God, Shadow's all right. The relief made her want to shout, but September had to trust he'd stay safe until she could get Lenny into the barn. The van shifted again, taking the windows out of plumb. She had to hurry or the passage into the barn would slam shut.
She hunted for and found a pulse. Lenny's blue lips and labored breathing scared her more than his bruised face. He'd not worn a seatbelt, and the old van had no airbags. The impact not only cracked his head on the windshield, the steering wheel probably caused internal damage. Moving could kill him.
The van lurched, and Shadow's barks turned hysterical. "I hear you, baby-dog." God, she had to get the kid out, and help Shadow. "I won't leave you again."
No choice, she had to move Lenny now, or they'd all die. September yanked and tugged to drag him from behind the wheel. She looped his arm over her shoulders and supported Lenny's waist with her other arm.
Water carved twin channels down the sides of the reservoir’s breached dirt dam. The gushing stream eroded the van’s precarious perch and it lifted with a stomach-dropping action.
Shadow shrieked. His paws clawed for purchase as he surfed the hood of the van. "Hang on, baby-dog." September prayed he'd keep his grip. Once they got inside, the old cement structure should buffer the strong current. She pulled the boy with all her strength and thrust his head and shoulders through the opening.
"Grab his shoulders, pull-pull-pull." September knelt on the seat, and eyed the water spilling into the bottom of the van. She shoved Lenny's legs through the aligned windows as Melinda and Willie pulled the lanky teenager into the barn.
The van bumped with a sudden herky-jerk movement with the loss of Lenny's weight. September grabbed to steady herself, angrier than scared when the barn window slipped out of sight.
Shadow yelped, still clinging to the hood of the van. "Good-dog, what a brave boy." At her voice, he slicked back his ears, and nosed the ragged opening in the windshield. If she could knock out the rest of the glass and climb onto the roof, maybe they could ride out the flood together. Staying inside risked entombment in a watery coffin if the van toppled in the current. Shadow would never survive.
September pushed at the windshield, and immediately realized the futility. Hail or impact with the barn created starburst splinters, but laminate held the safety glass together. It would take time and tools to remove the entire window, which likely would knock Shadow off in the process.
The van jerked again, and September screamed. It caught on something, and slowly spun before slamming back into the wall. Shadow somehow maintained his wobbly balance, and she gasped with relief.
The water kept rising. The next surge would take them.
With the windshield holding her captive and the passenger window flush against the barn's cement wall, the driver's window offered the only escape. Every movement she made risked unsettling the van's temporary anchor and launching Shadow into the flood. September carefully shifted her weight, knelt on the driver's seat and tried to roll down the window. It wouldn't budge.
She'd used the rebar to break the van window, but had dropped it inside the barn. September searched for something else that would work. Other than a few candy wrappers on the wet floor, the van was clean. She popped the glove box, and again came up empty.
The van canted backwards. Water settled in the back half of the vehicle. Shadow barked and pawed the windshield, then climbed halfway up the spidered glass as it shifted to near horizontal. She had to get out. Now.
She hammered the window with the heels of her palms and then fists. Shadow barked with each blow. The window didn't budge. September searched the dashboard for something, anything to use. She pulled out the van's keys from the ignition, and jabbed them at the window, then tried her own SUV keys using the casing from Macy’s laser pointer. She felt for the knife in her pocket, but after slicing through the fabric, it nested between inch-thick padding. After failing to extricate the blade, she gripped the knife through the coat fabric and stabbed the glass. The tip of the blade punched through the fabric, but the bare metal tip broke off and barely left a scratch. Nothing worked. She scooped up a handful of change, tried to score the glass with a quarter, and then threw it at the window with a scream of frustration.
The van lurched and settled. Water lapped above the seat. The current increased. September spied something white on the seat between her knees, picked it up and reacted with horror at the bloodstained porcelain tooth torn from Lenny's mouth. With revulsion, she hurled it away. It pinged the glass.
The driver's side window shattered.
Without hesitation, never questioning what had happened, September crawled out of the window. The van began to roll. She scrambled to get free of the vehicle, and used the sill as a step to vault onto the roof of the van.
Shadow already waited for her there, wagging and crying. "Good-dog, what a brave boy." She grasped his collar with one hand and the roof rack with the other to get her bearings. The van roof, only a temporary island of safety, would either sink, flip them off or spin away on the growing rush water.
Beside and above them, the loft offered the only hope. The tornado had sheared away part of the roof and wall. Good luck for them, since it offered access they otherwise wouldn't have. September carefully stood. That put the raw edge of the loft at shoulder height.
"Shadow." She kept her voice upbeat more for herself than for him. He'd easily read her terror, but she had to be resolute so he'd trust to do what she asked. She wouldn't leave him behind again, but there'd only be one chance to save them both.
Once Shadow made eye contact, she patted the high-placed floor of the loft. She prayed she'd keep her balance, her bad knee wouldn't betray her, and that the van's modest anchor held for another thirty seconds. He'd made vaults higher than this. She patted the loft floor again. "Shadow, JUMP."
He didn't hesitate. Shadow vaulted, stretched front paws and clawed for purchase when they caught the loft floor. September boosted his haunches the last little bit.
Relief flooded September, but she couldn't waste time. She heard the remainder of the dam crumble behind her and a wall of water gush forward.
She leaped for her life, and grabbed hold, forearms braced on the loft floor. Below her dangling boots, the van tipped over, and spun away in the deluge. September inched forward, swinging her good leg up and catching her heel on the edge until hot breath and teeth tugged her collar. Shadow's boost provided the extra needed to roll into the loft.
Panting, she lay on her back. Shadow stood over top of her, licking her face and making crying dog sounds.
September sat up and pushed the dog away. The sounds were not Shadow, but from below, inside the barn. Mixed with Kinsler's howls, kids screamed.
