With his windshield wipers on high, Angelo Valentino drove in the torrent. As the rain made visibility impossible, he looked for a place to pull over. In this unknown landscape, Angelo couldn’t even find an overpass. He tried to see behind him, but had no idea if he was alone or the rain was obscuring vehicle headlights. He couldn’t see another car on the road at the moment. “This is absurd.” Angelo slowed down to a crawl and heard branches and debris hitting his car, seeing pieces of fence and roofing fly by. He tried to get reception on his radio, wondering if he was headed into a tornado. Suddenly the idea of meeting his buddies at a lodge to fish and hike seemed like a very bad idea. He pulled over, unable to drive safely. He had left his home at five pm, after work on Friday, but now? He should have waited for morning. They had predicted rain, but this? He hoped he was far enough off the main road to not get hit by a car, but in reality, he simply couldn’t see a foot in front or behind him. Just to be sure, he turned his hazard lights on and kept looking for a radio station that wasn’t pure static. And he had satellite radio! This is insane. He shifted on the leather seat to get to his phone. There was no reception. He tapped it, moved apps around, and the frustration began to mount in him. Something loud slam the roof of his car, making him jump out of his skin. He looked up and then tried to see through the torrent, but even with his wipers moving quickly, he couldn’t see anything. Nerves began to hit and he felt like a sitting duck. He had to find some kind of cover if this was indeed a tornado. He put the car in drive and crept along the tarmac which was nothing more than a floating river of water. His car began to hydroplane on the waves so he stopped once more. Something huge landed on his windshield, cracking it, giving him a panic attack. He winced and grabbed his chest at the fright. “Holy shit!” With the windshield demolished, Angelo knew the car was not safe. “How the fuck did I get myself into this?” He had an overnight bag with him in the trunk, but where the hell was he supposed to go? The car rocked in the wind as branches and debris kept hitting his car windows and roof. Suddenly his sedan leaned sideways, and the seatbelt kept Angelo in place, locking up. He gasped and held the steering wheel as the car rolled like a snowball down an avalanche. While whatever force of nature had a hold of him, carried him like a leaf down a storm drain, Angelo held onto the wheel and closed his eyes, feeling dizzy from the revolving movement of his car, over and over, as if it had fallen off a hill or ravine. It stopped, upended, and water began to rise around him. “Oh shit!” He tried to open the door, but was trapped. He began to hit his elbow against the window to break it, but it wasn’t working. As a last resort, since the car still had power, Angelo opened the driver’s side window. Water rushed into the car, filling it. He panicked and went for his seatbelt, hanging upside down as water quickly filled the interior. Angelo held his breath and lunged through the open window. He came up for air in what felt like a mud-filled wave of debris and thick smudge. As he was carried off by the racing tide, in total darkness except for flashes of lightning, Angelo struggled to grip something, knowing this was potentially fatal. If his head hit a rock or tree, he was done. ~ Callum returned to his kitchen and picked up the one older, wall-hanging landline since his cell phone, and the cordless phones didn’t work. “County Services, how may I help you?” “Yes, hi. My name is Callum Gray and I live off the highway just west of the town center?” He waited for a reply. “Anyway, I just wanted to let someone know the road has been washed out and I have no access to get out.” “I understand, sir. The storm has damaged several of the main highways in and out of this area. Do you have power?” “No, but I have a small generator.” “Our crews are out at the moment, assessing the damage. I’ll add your complaint. Give me your home address.” Callum did, and looked outside at the sun, which was now rising higher over the hilly horizon. “So, I’m sort of stuck?” “I don’t recommend trying to navigate over roads that are washed out, sir.” “I doubt I could. But, you have no idea or timeline for someone to actually come out and look at the road or restore power?” “You’re on our list, sir.” Callum knew living out in the hills was a challenge. “Okay. Thanks.” “You have a nice day.” Callum rolled his eyes and hung up. He had food and water and a generator for the essentials. At least he wouldn’t starve. He ate a piece of toast as he stared out of his back window, needing to take care of the damage done to his property.
Dressed in the denim-fleece jacket he only wore when knee deep in dirt, Callum took another look at his broken trees and opened his shed. He removed the chainsaw and a small gas container. Once he filled the power saw, he revved it up to make sure it worked, then shut it off and put on a pair of goggles, then leather gloves. Carrying the saw, he gave one last frown at his apple tree, and cut it where it had broken. The heavy trunk fell to the ground and Callum continued to cut it up in logs, so once it dried, he could burn it in his fireplace. After the fallen tree had been cut into manageable chunks, he moved on to the next. ~ By late afternoon, Callum had made a stack of the logs and collected the branches onto a pile to burn when the weather cooperated and dried out the soaked limbs. He perked up to see a hen returning. Callum smiled at it and headed to the fifty-year-old barn, one where he kept chicken feed, hay, and other odds and ends. He hoisted up the feedbag and returned to the coop, pouring the feed onto the ground. Once he did, a few other chickens appeared, pecking at the grain. Callum tried to set the fence back up but it had been twisted in the wind. He figured the chickens he had left most likely were blown away, or would be devoured by hungry wildlife. It didn’t matter. He could buy more baby chicks in town, and never managed to use all the eggs. He fussed with the wire fence for a little while and managed to get the posts hammered into the wet ground. He worked on it until he could do no more, since he should rebuild the fence completely now. He took a breath, removed his glove, and wiped his forehead, squinting at the sun as it made its way down the western sky. After picking up his tools, Callum returned to the barn and hung up the shovel, and set his hammer in a tool box. He heard a low moan and stopped short. His skin prickled and the hair stood on the back of his neck. “Hello?” Callum didn’t believe in ghosts but if his grandfather was still here, he would appreciate his help. Shaking off the odd sensation, Callum looked at the bales of hay he’d accumulated. He had intentions of owning horses one day, but until then, he put out the hay for the deer in winter, so they would come close to his place. He loved watching them, and never was into hunting. As he picked up a bale to spread out for the whitetail and mule deer in the area, he noticed his birdfeeders had been snapped off as well. Callum used wire clippers to open the hay bale and pocketed them, then began pulling the packed hay apart to spread out. As he did, he spotted more of his chickens returning to their home. “Well. Where did you go?” They fluttered by him and began eating the grain he had scattered. “Welcome home!” he said, laughing. The hay tossed out in the field so the deer could eat it if they needed it, Callum brought the wire and clippers back to the barn. He wrapped the wire up and heard another odd noise. “Hello?” he called. Callum grew nervous, set the wire down, and walked through his cluttered barn. When he spotted a human leg he jumped out of his skin and stopped short. “What the fuck?” Callum moved cautiously closer. A man was lying, face down, in his decaying barn. “Oh, my God!” Callum rushed closer and could see the man was a mess of mud, cuts, and scratches. Callum didn’t know what to do. Call 911? They’d need a helicopter to get to him. He crouched by the man and could see he had been through the worst of the storm. Bare from his head to his knees, the poor guy’s clothing had been torn and dragged to his shoes. Callum crouched near him, touching his neck for a pulse. “Okay, buddy. Hang on.” He took off his coat and put it over the man’s back, then made a quick inspection for broken bones. But he wasn’t a medic, and had only dealt with his own injuries. “Can you hear me?” Callum knelt down beside him. The man didn’t stir.
