Claudia in the Storm by Denise Walter McConduit

Author:Denise Walter McConduit [McConduit, Denise Walter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: adventure story; chapter books for girls; female hero; historical fiction; New Orleans; Hurricane Katrina; flooding; Girls Survive; I Survived; grit; perseverance; girl power; girl stories; survival stories
Publisher: Capstone
Published: 2023-03-16T00:00:00+00:00

“Step back,” said Mr. Harris. “We don’t want to borrow trouble.”

Several shots rang out, and all of us ducked for cover. I didn’t know what happened, but after that, the mob grew even more restless. I was frightened for my family. Were they desperate for food too?

Zoe was clinging to Mrs. Harris like glue, her eyes wide as saucers. “I want my Momma.” She began to cry.

“I know, my baby,” Mrs. Harris said to her. “Just you wait. I know she’s coming soon. I can’t call her because the cell phone towers are out.”

Mrs. Harris knew how to settle her down. But I was still so angry with Zoe, I couldn’t stand to look at her with that wild hair. She had loosened her ponytail, and I knew Momma would be mad.

We were stranded on the interstate for what seemed like eternity, the crowd growing in the heat each hour. Mr. Harris managed to finagle three bottles of water for us to share, but we still had nothing to eat.

It was late afternoon when a huge military truck and some National Guards rolled up on the ramp. “I heard they’re taking us to the Superdome,” said Mr. Harris.

“The Superdome?” Zoe’s face perked up. “I’ve never been to the Superdome.”

“We just got to stay together, my babies,” said Mrs. Harris. “Just keep close together.”

The anxious crowd lunged forward to get on the vehicle but backed up when the soldiers started pointing their guns at them.

“Are they going to shoot us, Daddy?” asked Taylor. “Why do they have guns? Did we do something wrong?”

“Let’s just step to the back,” said Mr. Harris. “I’m sure there’ll be another truck. We did nothing wrong.” He walked us to the back of the crowd.

It wasn’t until three trucks later before we got on board, and it was still packed.

“Let’s just hold on to each other,” directed Mrs. Harris, locking arms.

We rolled through the foul-smelling water, pools of gasoline shining on the surface. Almost every store that we passed had its door kicked open with steady lines of people desperate to get in. But the saddest sight were stranded dogs trembling on tops of cars and doorsteps, their eyes pleading for mercy.

Hundreds of people were wading in the water with anything that floated. Some had large irregular-shaped parcels balanced on the tops of their heads. Everyone was walking to the Superdome. As we approached the facility, the on-ramp was flooded with folks trying to evacuate the city. As we rode, we looked out at the dark brown floodwaters littered with garbage and floating debris, but there was one sight that sent chills up and down my spine.

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