The Hole in the Wall - Lisa Rowe Fraustino [72]
We left the gore and entered a different world. All four wheels of the truck gripped ground at once. The road felt solid, while behind us the gore heaved faster and faster. We watched it in the blinks between the giant rocks that bordered Kettle Road.
Ma jolted the truck to a stop in our driveway. As she opened her door she called, “You kids help your father into the SUV. We’re switching vehicles and getting out of Dodge as soon as I fetch your grandmother.”
I jumped over the side of the truck. “I’ll help you, Ma.” I ran ahead of her to kick the door in, but it just hurt my foot without budging. Like the cave door after the mudslide. But on the bright side, this time it didn’t hurt my teeth.
“She must have bolted the door,” Ma said and knocked hard. “Mum! It’s Claire! Come quick—it’s an emergency!”
When the door groaned open, Grum stood leaning on Pa’s rifle. “I sure am glad it’s you,” she said. “A couple of Stanley Odum’s employees came by here an hour ago and tried to evacuate me, but with the help of my special walking stick I persuaded them otherwise.”
“Well, I hope you’ll come with us now,” Ma said, “because the Onion’s gonna explode and it could take our property with it.”
Grum nodded. “Of course, we’re all ready.” She turned around and pointed to a stack of garbage bags in the living room.
Ma looked both amused and astounded. “What did you pack?”
“Everything we’ll need to live for the first month if we survive the holocaust,” she said.
With half a smile Ma shook her head and said, “Let’s pray we won’t need all that. But good idea just in case. Sebby, you hurry up and load the supplies while I help your grandmother into the car.”
Man, some of those bags were heavy. She must have packed every can of Spam and cast-iron skillet in the place. From the porch I hollered, “Barbie, Jed, come help—”
Pa was in the back of the SUV, but Barbie and Jed were nowhere to be seen. They must have gone out to the henhouse to take down the plywood. Jed was going to follow through with his plan! He’d go out to the mother lode and be there when the gore exploded. Then who knew what disaster would happen next! I couldn’t let him go there. I couldn’t lose my brother again.
“Jed!” I screamed, throwing the Spam bag into the trunk on my way to the henhouse.
I bounced smack into him as he came out backward. I ricocheted onto my butt in a puddle. Great, now I was soaking wet with that leachate stuff! “Aaaaahhhh!” I jumped up and batted at my soggy pants.
Then I felt something move around my ankles. I looked down. The puddle had started to vibrate, and the water swirled in curlicues toward the road. I stared in disbelief.
“Seb, don’t just stand there, help me with this tent,” called Jed, stuck in the henhouse door.
“Do you see this water?”
“Yes, which is why we need to hurry up and get out of here.”
“Seb, hurry up and load these supplies!” called Ma. She had Grum halfway to the SUV.
“You heard your mother,” Pa called out the window.
“Ahh!” I cried, covering both ears.
“I’ll help Jed with the tent,” Barbie said from behind him. She was carrying the camp stove.
My mind flashed back to our last camping trip at Lake Exton, and how much we’d bickered over who would carry what, and how happy we were tipping Pa out of the boat when he took us fishing. But this was not a happy moment at all. I shook the memory loose and ran to load the bags, hurdling the streams of curlicue water along the way.
Soon we had the SUV packed to the roof and barely any room left for us kids to sit. Ma couldn’t even see out the back window to drive.
Just then Jed’s Stupid Cat came running out of nowhere, leaping over all the rivulets to jump up on Jed’s legs and lick his hand.
“There’s no room for the cat.” Pa scowled, but he sounded almost sad.
“What do