Sea Tremors by Edward J. McFadden III

Author:Edward J. McFadden III [McFadden III, Edward J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severed Press
Published: 2019-09-16T22:00:00+00:00

22

Cannon and Nate grabbed something to eat, hit the bathroom, and headed back out to meet Clint. It was 3:19PM, and soon daylight would wane and transferring the sub would become more difficult.

As the Whaler sliced through the floodwater, Nate asked, “You think Mr. Minter will turn up?”

Cannon looked at him. “One way or another.”

Nate winced. Despite all the death and destruction, the man seemed unchanged by it. He hadn’t built up a callus. Cannon envied him. If only he could forget what he’d seen.

The storm clouds continued their march across the horizon in the west, and he judged the storm would arrive overnight. “What do you make of this storm, weatherman?”

Nate smiled. “It’s a slow mover, that’s for sure. Probably be around most of the day tomorrow,” he said. “When you going down you think?”

“Soon as possible. Probably first light tomorrow.”

“That doesn’t leave much time if you can’t find the rift, or there’s no way to seal it,” Nate said.

“You got another option?”

Nate said nothing.

“I’ll get the sheriff to start moving folks from the high school tomorrow, rain or shine. It’s chilly out here, but not that cold,” Cannon said.

“You think Mr. Singh will let folks camp up on his nice flat high ground up there?” Nate said, pointing to the northeast in the direction of the hill.

“I do, if it comes to that.”

Cannon spun the wheel and put the Whaler on a southwest course, cutting past Izzy’s and the tangle of boats in the marina and heading out onto Blackwater Bay. A slight chop rippled over the water, a northeast wind having flattened things out. The breeze was cold and bit Cannon’s face, sea spray coating the boat with a layer of moisture. The gray overcast sky was draining Cannon’s energy like a car with its headlights on and its engine off. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and flexed his hands, the boat pilotless for a moment.

When they’d boarded the Whaler, the floodwater had encroached another thirty feet and Cannon thought the rate of flow was increasing. The wind gusted, and the Whaler hopped across three-foot waves.

“You see the flood line when we left before?” Cannon said.

Nate nodded and said nothing. That worried Cannon. The science teacher hesitant to speak his concerns out loud for fear of making it real.

“And? Looked to me like things are picking up speed.”

“I haven’t checked my bayside monitoring station, but I’d have to agree based on what I’ve seen.”

“How bad, you think?”

Nate exhaled like a deflating tire and gazed out over the bay. “Don’t know. We should see if we can find my station on the way back. It was out behind Izzy’s on one of his dock supports.”

“OK. Remind me later. I’ll forget.”

“Good thing we didn’t tell anyone I thought the rate was slowing. Then we’d really be screwed.”

Cannon nodded. “How’d you screw up?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t think I did.”

Cannon took his eyes off the sea and looked at Nate. “What?”

“I don’t think I was wrong. Something’s changed.”

“What?”

“Don’t know, but I do know that when water is forced through an opening it usually—”

“Expands.

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