From the Indie Side Read Online Free Page B

wrong!”
    Emily heard the sound of panic and something
clicked inside her, some terrible notion. Thoughts of her father
immediately came to mind. She searched the darkness, frantic. Something’s happened to him? But before she could ask, her
mother yanked back her blanket. Cold air rushed over Emily’s bare
legs. Her teeth chattered while she rubbed away the slumber in her
eyes.
    “Emily, I need you to move!”
    “Mom?” she asked. She was awake now, and her
voice shook with worry. Her mother stopped and let the blanket fall
to the floor.
    “Mom, is it Dad? Is Daddy okay?”
    “I’m fine, but we have to go!” her father
answered. She turned to see his tall silhouette against the light
splintering through her bedroom door. “We need to get to the car. I
don’t think the house is going to last much longer!”
    Another storm? Emily swung her feet
over the edge of her bed and stood up. She gripped the carpet,
squeezing her toes. As the lure of sleep loosened its hold on her,
she shook off the early chill and realized that she needed to pee.
Storm or no storm, whatever the emergency, it would have to wait
until she was done. Emily glanced at her window again.
    “How early is it?”
    “Almost morning,” her mother answered,
throwing loose clothing onto her bed. “We need to get moving!”
    Must be a storm. That would explain
everything. It’s an evacuation , she concluded, and recalled
the time when she was nine and they had to pack some things and
hurry to the big shopping mall for safety.
    Somewhere above her bedroom ceiling, Emily
heard a crash. The sudden sound made her flinch. She didn’t just
hear it, though—she felt it. Then a second crash came, dropping
something even harder. She felt it rumble across the floor and into
her feet.
    “What was that?” she asked.
    “Emily, it’s the house!” her father answered
sharply, and then continued to shuffle what was in his hands before
packing it away. He stopped a moment, and looked at her with firm
eyes. “Listen to us, and get moving!”
    And that’s when Emily realized what she
wasn’t hearing: there was no wind, not even a breeze. Living near
the beaches, she was accustomed to hearing the rough surf,
especially when a seasonal storm came through. But now, she heard
neither the rush of air nor the pounding of the waves: the outside
was eerily silent. She should have heard something . What
about the morning seabirds?
    Two more thumps. But these came from below
her window, outside. A neighbor? The sound of a car door creaked
open and then closed, followed by the slamming of a trunk lid. A
voice came next, escalating to a yell, telling someone that they
needed to hurry it up. Another car door opened and then closed.
Emily began to understand that whatever was happening, it was
happening to everyone; the neighborhood was awake and in
motion.
    A scream came then, cutting through her
bedroom. She jumped. Her mother cupped a hand over her lips while
her father’s mouth fell open. The voice had a throaty and raw
sound, tortured, and her body went cold as the hairs on her arms
sprang to life. She exchanged a frightened glance with her mother
and then looked over to her father.
    “Daddy, what was that?” The first scared
tears pricked her eyes. “Momma, why did someone scream like that?”
Her father raised his hand, shushing her, and then waited. For a
minute they just stood in her room, listening. Garbled sounds, wet
and drowning, came next. The person tried to yell out, but to
Emily, the voice sounded marred and deformed. The few words that
she could make out were something about not leaving the
house— Stay inside! —and then the shouting ended abruptly,
punctuated by the crumpled sound of someone falling. Silence
followed. Her father’s hand stayed in the air.
    “The car never started,” her father
whispered, talking to himself more than to her or her mother. “They
never made it into the car. So strong and fast. Very fast.”
    “What do you