The Valley and the Flood by Rebecca Mahoney (i wanna iguana read aloud TXT) 📕

that leaves the room, the whole building, eerily still. Without that pause, I might never have heard Cassie’s whisper.

“My prophecy,” she says. “I think it ends with my death.”

Faintly, over my shoulder, I hear Theresa’s low laugh.

“Yeesh. No faith,” she says. “The past is coming back to us, Chris. And when it does? I’m gonna be here to welcome it home.”

Twenty-Seven THE EVACUATION

“YOU CAN’T TELL her,” Cassie informs me halfway to the lobby.

I bite my lip. “I think we should.”

Cassie’s eyes are still noticeably red, but her back is straight, her tone is determinedly chipper. “She has more important things to focus on.”

“This is exactly what she should be focusing on!” I hiss.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, okay?” she says. “She already suspects something’s really wrong. If she knows what I’ve seen, it’ll just make things worse.”

“And if what you saw comes true—”

“If it comes true,” Cassie says, each word precise, “then I’ve had a lot of time to think about that, too. You’ve got your own problems tonight. Let me deal with mine.”

“You heard her, Cassie.” I snag her arm, hold on until she turns to face me. Her rigid smile flickers. “She loves you. She—she wouldn’t want you to be alone.”

Now that Cassie’s stopped, she can’t seem to find the momentum to start walking again. She sinks a little, the nervous energy seeping out of her.

“You wanted to know what I saw,” she says. “I saw it come. I saw it carry this town away with it. And I saw it consume me. And then I didn’t see anything. I felt cold. I—It’s never felt like anything before.”

She takes a full, shuddering breath. “Say I tell her. What if it takes her, too, because she ‘wouldn’t want me to be alone’? Or if it doesn’t, she lives the rest of her life knowing that I didn’t trust her with this. And just for my peace of mind? It’s fine, Rose. Actually, I’m tired of waiting. Part of me just wants . . .”

Her smile, inch by painful inch, twitches back into place. “Worry about yourself, not about me. Now come on.”

“Cassie,” I say, before she can finish turning around. I take the deepest breath I can around the vise on my throat. “I’m sorry.”

The hard, tired look melts away, just a little. “You didn’t make this happen.” She reaches over to my hand, still on her arm, and squeezes. “It was inevitable.”

Dropping her hand from mine, Cassie leads the way to the front of the school. Despite the haziness of the light through those dark green clouds, my eyes still water in the desert sun. In the time it’s taken Cassie to calm down, everyone has gathered out front: Alex and Felix stand next to the door, with Christie farther away, in a huddle with Maggie Williams by the steps.

“I’ll drop you off at your dad’s,” Felix is saying.

Alex shakes his head. “I can walk. You should get to your family.”

“It’s an extra five minutes,” Felix says. “Just let me do this for you.”

I take a step, but without quite looking at me, Christie calls out sharply, “Stay where you are.”

I freeze. A rueful grin flickers across her face. “Sorry, Rose. You should stand way back.”

I still can’t quite see Rudy beyond the edge of the parasol. But the limb that’s in view droops, like he’s pouting.

Maggie Williams doesn’t notice.

“Any time you’d like to let me in on this, Christie,” she says tightly. “I just backed your evacuation plan in public, you know.”

Christie snorts. “You backed me in front of one person.”

She shudders like a bird resettling her plumage. “People talk.”

“We’re starting now?” I say.

Christie, standing on the edge of the school steps, squints at the sky and points her parasol at the hazy sun. “I was counting on more light,” she mutters. “But this’ll have to do.”

It could easily be a non sequitur. But I’ve been here in Lotus Valley long enough that I assume she was answering my question.

“I’m taking a lot on faith here, Christie,” Maggie says, a little louder. “Are you really sure this creature of yours will focus on the task at hand?”

“Boss,” Felix says, his voice tight. “Not to agree with Williams or anything, but . . . Rudy’s pretty agitated.”

Christie’s mouth twitches as Maggie nods emphatically. “Felix,” she says. “Do you trust me?”

I expect more of a fight from Felix. But his shoulders sink grudgingly. “Of course I do.”

Christie’s lips curve into a full-blown smile. Then, slowly, she lowers the parasol.

Thick black tendrils spread from her feet in all directions, ahead and behind, reaching out until the ground itself looks like a massive hole in the earth. In the distance, Rudy’s reach expands: I see one tendril loading a startled family’s belongings into their trunk, another redirecting a passing car toward the highway, another gently prodding a reluctant man from his home.

One of Rudy’s limbs makes a beeline toward me, but with a grimace, Christie wrangles him away from the building and toward town. “Not now, big guy,” I hear her say through clenched teeth. “They’ll be here for real soon enough.”

In unison, our phones start to shiver. And then they start to shriek, blaring emergency broadcast tones all down the street.

IN ACCORDANCE WITH LOCAL CATACLYSM, LOTUS VALLEY RESIDENTS MUST EVACUATE EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY. CITIZENS SHOULD CONVENE ON THE HIGH GROUND PAST THE LETHE RIDGE HOUSING DEVELOPMENT. THIS IS NOT A TEST.

I look to Christie, who shrugs. “It’s running on every station. And if they don’t have a smartphone or a TV—”

There’s a rush of air and a burst of sound overhead, and I look up just in time to catch the creatures from the theater, giggling and twisting through the air. “Evacuate!” they chirp. “Evacuate! Evacuate!”

“I’d been teaching Rudy to carve the PSA into walls. But this is easier,” Christie says with a chuckle. “Poor guy. He’s been practicing his penmanship for months.”

“Well.” The frozen, white-faced Maggie Williams clears her throat. “I’m sorry for doubting