When Darkness Builds (The Caldera Series) Read online

  WHEN DARKNESS BUILDS

  M. C. Sutton

  TRANSFORMATION PRESS

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  All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.

  Copyright © 2017 by M. C. Sutton

  Published by Transformation Press

  Cover design by Alexander von Ness

  Interior design by Pronoun

  Edited by David Gatewood and Michelle Pennington

  Copy editing by Tamara Hart Heiner

  Distribution by Pronoun

  ISBN: 9781537893419

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  About the Author

  To all those who suffer in silence, and to those who touch their hearts without ever knowing it, I humbly and gratefully dedicate this book.

  CHAPTER 1

  Emma woke up screaming.

  “Emma, calm down! You’re going to wake up the entire camp.”

  She opened her eyes and gasped, breathing fast and drenched in sweat, the humidity much thicker than when they’d finally crawled into their sleeping bags only a few hours before. It made it even harder to breathe.

  It took a moment to focus through the darkness, shattered every few seconds by an intense flash of lightning. Her husband, Jon, knelt on the floor of their tent beside her, watching her as she struggled to steady the pounding in her chest.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “It sounded like maybe you—”

  “I’m fine.” Emma crawled out of her sleeping bag and sat up, her chin on her knees.

  “Yeah, sure,” Jon mumbled, and grabbed one of their bags. “Your pager has been going off for the last half hour. I’m guessing it’s Frank. It’s been thundering and lightning all night.”

  Frank? Why in the world would her boss be paging her? “But that doesn’t make any sense,” said Emma. “I checked the weather before we left and didn’t see a storm system for miles.”

  “I’d tell you just to call him,” said Jon, pulling out his phone and glancing at it. He threw it across the tent. “If the damn cell phone service ever actually worked anymore.”

  Emma stared at him. It didn’t take suddenly finding themselves in the middle of an unexplained storm to tell he was frustrated, though she wasn’t sure why. It had been his suggestion they spend Mother’s Day weekend volunteering at the camp.

  She put a hand on his arm, took her bag from him, and found the pair of jeans she’d worn the day before. Her pager hummed as she pulled it from the front pocket. She had eighteen messages, all from Frank.

  “Tornado warning? But how is that even possible?” she said.

  Jon stared at her for a moment, then looked away.

  She read through the rest of the messages. “Great. Our alert systems are down again.”

  Jon stopped trying to shove his sleeping bag into its sack. “So what does that mean?”

  “It means,” answered Emma, pulling on her jeans and unzipping the tent door, “that we need to warn Riley and start getting all these people to shelter.”

  She climbed out the door without waiting for a response.

  It was chilly, even for May. The flashes of lightning in the distance outlined the immense pine trees that circled the camping area and hinted at the denseness of Wakarusa National Forest just beyond. Even in the darkness, the beauty of the surrounding nature was a stark contrast to the camping area. On every available square foot sat a makeshift dwelling in what the locals called “Tent City,” an area established for families left homeless after the economy all but collapsed years ago. The land had once belonged to the government, but that was before widespread budget cuts caused the state parks to close.

  Her and Jon’s tent, an expensive two-person backpacker that sat low enough to the ground to withstand the winds blowing violently around them, appeared almost shameful compared to the haphazard shanties and army-style tents that shook and swayed in the night. Surprisingly, as far as she could tell, no one else had yet awoken to the approaching storm.

  Well, almost no one.

  Emma stepped toward their seventeen-year-old son, who sat staring into the dying embers of their campfire. “Mattie?”

  He didn’t so much as turn around.

  “Honey, are you okay? I thought you went to bed hours ago.”

  “There’s a storm coming,” he answered.

  Emma sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, I know. I got the warning message.”

  Matt finally turned to look at her. “So, what are we going to do about it?”

  “You, young man,” said Jon from behind them, “are going to go wake up your brother. Then the both of you are going to the camp host’s RV to find Riley. Let him know to start moving people to the bathhouse.”

  Matt’s shoulders fell. “Yes, sir.” He stood and headed toward his tent, where his twin brother, Jacob, lay sound asleep.

  “Well, come on then, Dr. Grant,” Jon said to Emma, pulling on a sweatshirt. He opened the back of her Jeep parked just in front of their tent site, grabbed two bullhorns, and tossed one to her. “This is what you do, isn’t it?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, then shook her head and hurried off to the eastern side of the camp.

  “The National Weather Service has issued a tornado warning for this area. Leave your tents and head to the bathhouse immediately!” Emma’s voice boomed through the bullhorn. She ran from one section of tents to the next, stopping only long enough to shout a warning and watch for enough movement to be sure her message was received. One at a time, people began to pop out their messy heads.

  “Hey, what’s all the shouting for?” A white-haired man poked his head out of a family-size tent next to Emma.

  “Sir, I’m with McDonald County Emergency Management. This area has been placed under a tornado warning. Please evacuate your family to the bathhouse immediately.”

  He flinched as a large drop of rain hit him in the face, then nodded and ducked back inside.

  The rain poured now. The trees cracked in the wind, leaves and small branches blew past Emma’s feet. The camp buzzed as people rushed to gather their families and make for the bathhouse.

  Jacob appeared on the camp’s ATV and skidded to a stop on the wet pavement in front of her. He held a hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the rain, now pounding down in stinging sideways sheets, and yelled over the roar of the wind. “Dad says that’s everyone from the western side, Mom. He says it’s time you got up there, t
oo.”

  “Go ahead and we’ll be right behind you,” she shouted back. She had noticed Riley running toward a car trying to make a getaway at the eastern exit of the park.

  Jacob hesitated.

  “Look, the longer we stand here and talk about it, the longer it’s going to take me to grab Riley and get up there,” she said, pointing toward Riley, who stood arguing with the driver of the car.

  Jacob looked over the hill toward the bathhouse, then up at the sky. “Okay. But I’d suggest you guys don’t take your time about it.” He turned the ATV and headed up the hill to the bathhouse.

  As she stared into the distance after him, Emma felt the pressure drop around them and saw the dark clouds swirling above. She stood for a brief instant and watched them, the raw power mesmerizing. Her awe quickly faded once she realized what the rotation meant.

  “Riley!” she shouted. She raced down the hill, skidding across the wet grass toward him.

  Riley was still standing beside the car, shouting at the driver through the window. “Look, Tyler, you need to get out of the car and seek shelter now!”

  “Are you kidding?” the driver yelled back, rain pouring into his car through the open window. “I’m not sticking around here! I’m heading to the emergency shelter in Brighton. We’re not risking our lives huddled together with seventy other people in a shower stall!” Behind him, a frightened little girl no more than four years old sat strapped into her car seat, clinging to a soaked stuffed elephant.

  Emma slid to a halt just before slamming into the driver’s side door. “Sir, do you see those cloud formations? Do you have any idea what that means?” She pointed up. “You are putting your life, and your daughter’s life, in danger if you don’t get out of this car right now!”

  His eyes widened as he stared at the clouds above. Tyler jumped out of the car and sprinted around to the passenger side to pull his daughter out.

  Only, for some reason, it took entirely too long to get her out of the car seat.

  Riley ran to the other side of the car. “What’s wrong?”

  “The buckle’s stuck!”

  “Here, let me try.” Riley shoved him out of the way and began pounding on the button and jerking at the straps.

  Emma put a hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the rain as she looked up at the sky. The clouds swirled violently like thick gray sludge in a blender.

  Riley was struggling fiercely to get the little girl out of the car, which was rocking back and forth with the force of the winds. Emma could see the panic in the girl’s teary green eyes as the storm raged around them.

  Then in an instant, it all just stopped.

  The rain softened, the wind ceased, and everything went silent. Riley stopped trying to unbuckle the little girl. He emerged from the car to stare up at the sky. The spinning tunnel of clouds which spanned across the western horizon suddenly inverted and touched down, quickly forming a wide, debris-wrapped tornado. Emma looked from the frightened little girl to Riley’s panicked face. She threw open the back door on the driver’s side and dove into the car just as Riley returned to struggling with the seat belt.

  “A word of advice, Riley.” Emma pulled a knife from her pocket, flipped it open, and sliced through the straps of the car seat. “Get yourself a good pocketknife.”

  Riley nodded as he pulled the little girl from the car.

  The sound of the approaching tornado was deafening. The little girl held her hands over her ears, buried her head in Riley’s shoulder, and screamed maniacally as Riley, Emma, and Tyler ran up the muddy embankment toward the bathhouse.

  “Dr. Grant, we’re not going to make it,” Riley screamed from behind him.

  He was right. The debris spun violently inside the darkness of the funnel, which was approaching fast. It had already reached the northwest corner of the park. The bathhouse was too far.

  They stopped, and Emma turned to the little girl. “What’s your name?”

  The little girl stopped screaming and answered softly, “Maya.”

  “Well, Maya.” Emma rested a reassuring hand on her back. “My name is Emma. It’s my job to get you out of here, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do, okay?”

  Maya nodded slightly.

  Emma looked up at Riley, who didn’t look so certain. That’s when Emma noticed the drainpipe behind him, about fifty feet away. It ran under the road in front of the north side of the park, and it was big enough to hold them. Rainwater surged out of it, cascading down a rocky embankment into a ditch below. It would be wet and cold, but much safer than being out in the open.

  She pointed. “There.”

  At the same moment, just over the hill behind them, a propane tank from the refill station slammed into the side of the office and exploded.

  “Go!” Emma yelled.

  They sprinted the short distance to the pipe. The tornado devoured tents and cars on the western side of the park. Somewhere behind them lightning struck a tree with a bright flash and loud crack.

  Tyler went first, scrambling haphazardly up the slimy rocks and mud, the water trying to push him back down. Once he was inside, Riley handed Maya up to her father. He moved deeper into the darkness, pushing desperately against the rushing water as Riley struggled to climb up the rocks behind him. Emma waited in the ditch below, freezing water up to her knees, and turned to check the path of the tornado. It veered wildly to the south—and headed straight for the bathhouse.

  Where her family was.

  “Dr. Grant!” Riley yelled.

  Emma turned back to the embankment. Riley was in the pipe, his hand outstretched toward her. She grabbed his hand and started to climb.

  Another bright flash, this time much closer, caused the ground to shake beneath her. Her foot slipped on a wet rock, and she lost hold of Riley’s hand. She splashed into the ditch below. Emma watched, frozen beneath the rush of icy water, as a giant oak tree fell toward her.

  An arm wrapped tightly around her waist from behind. It pulled her out of the way of the falling tree, up the embankment, and into the pipe. The long branches of the tree slammed into the ditch with a shuddering crack.

  Emma let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  “No problem,” Jon answered, breathless.

  The five of them braced themselves against the sides of the pipe, fighting to hold their position against the water that surged past them, as the storm continued to rage outside. Emma closed her eyes and rested her head against the cold metal pipe, freezing and exhausted. Across from her, Tyler had his arms wrapped tightly around his little girl.

  Maya reached out a small hand and put it on Emma’s arm.

  Emma smiled and placed her own hand over the little girl’s icy fingers.

  They crouched in the darkness and cold for what seemed like forever. Eventually the pipe stopped vibrating underneath them, and the sounds of the storm subsided.

  Riley emerged from the pipe first. He snaked through the branches of the downed oak, then turned back to grab Maya, whose father lowered her down. Once they were all out, they surveyed the damage.

  Tents and belongings were strewn all over the park. Trees were uprooted. RVs and cars were rolled. A large hole gaped in the side of the brick office building where the propane tank had exploded.

  Emma’s main concern, though, lay with the bathhouse. She and Jon climbed the hill to find out if it still stood.

  The roof had been blown off, but otherwise the bathhouse had held. People were filing out past Matt and Jacob, looking shaken but unharmed. Jacob spotted Jon and Emma and gave them a thumbs-up to let them know that everyone was okay.

  Emma let out a long sigh of relief. She knew it could have been much, much worse.

  “Well, Dr. Grant,” said Jon. “So much for your weekend off.”

  CHAPTER 2

  JON STOOD ON THE BACK deck overlooking the lake, a can in one hand and a spatula in the other. To him, nothing was better than an ice-cold drink and a hot grill on a warm spring afternoon.
He took a deep breath and smiled as he flipped the last batch of burgers.

  The rev of a diesel engine purred on the other side of the garage. “Sounds like your granddad’s here,” he said to their not-quite-nineteen-year-old, Leah, who was sprawled out on the patio sofa behind him reading a book.

  She hopped up and disappeared around the side of the garage.

  This year’s end-of-spring-term cookout came with a bigger sigh of relief than usual. Somehow they had all survived another vicious round of budget cuts at the college where Emma worked part-time, Leah’s freshman year at Emma’s school, and the boys’ graduation.

  Jon hadn’t seen his father-in-law since spring break, and with all the chaos lately, he looked forward to the visit. He never understood why people didn’t get along with their in-laws. Jon had a lot of respect for Richard, an honest man who had worked hard to raise three kids after his wife passed away.

  Jon couldn’t say the same for his own father.

  “Hey there, Jon boy.” Richard stepped up onto the deck at the side of the garage.

  Jon hugged him. He was relieved to have Richard there. Maybe Richard could make some sense out of whatever Emma’s deal was lately. Or at least he’d be a sympathetic ear. Richard was all too familiar with Emma’s—well, craziness. “Hey, Dad. It’s good to see you.”

  “You too, son. I would have gotten here sooner if I hadn’t had to go twenty miles out of my way just to find a gas station still open. When did Peep’s finally close its doors?”

  “About three months ago, unfortunately,” said Jon, who’d had to cross the state line that morning just to find a few bags of chips and a case of pop for the occasion. “I offered to buy it from him, just to keep it open, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Said there’s no money in convenience stores when a gallon of gas costs more than a carton of cigarettes.”

  “Yeah, and it’s not too easy on the everyday Joe’s wallet, either.”

  “Honestly, Dad, I don’t know why you won’t just come stay with us.” Jon extended the same offer he did every time Richard came to visit. “We have plenty of room.”

  “My place on the golf course is just fine, thank you very much. So long as I don’t actually have to go anywhere.”