When We Met (Fool's Gold #13)(78)

“It’s a flash flood,” he said flatly, remembering the mention of rain in the mountains. “Combined with snowmelt. It’s coming up fast. We have to get out of here.” The other three stared at him. “Now!” he added in a loud voice. “Get your groves and get back to your cars. Keep a head count. Don’t leave anyone behind.”

Aware of his girls waiting for him, he went from campsite to campsite and got everyone else. Some of the girls grabbed gear; others simply started running for the trail. He circled back to his tent and found Taryn waiting in the rain. Water dripped down her face and she was shivering.

“The stream is rising,” he told her. “There’s a flash flood coming through. Get the girls and head for the trail. You’ll be safe once you reach the cars.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Check that everyone else got out, then join you by the cars.” He grabbed her upper arms. “Do a head count when you get there.”

She nodded.

He squatted down and opened the tent flap. Eight pairs of eyes stared at him.

“There’s a flash flood,” he told them. “We’re getting out now. Taryn is going to lead you up the trail while I check to make sure all the other girls got out. Everybody pair up. You leave in pairs and you arrive in pairs. No one gets left behind.”

He felt their fear. In his head, a voice kept reminding him that while he could save the world, he hadn’t been able to protect his own. That these girls were just like Marcus, and Marcus was dead.

“You’re ready for this,” he told them gently. “I have faith in you. We’ll meet at the top by the cars. Everybody ready?”

They nodded solemnly.

Angel waited until they were all out of the tent, then pulled the poles so it collapsed. He would do the same with the other tents, the easiest way to make sure no one snuck back inside to hide. He made sure Taryn knew the way up to the parking lot and then went back toward the swirling water.

He’d been gone less than ten minutes, but in that time, the water had risen at least six feet. Several of the tents were already half underwater by the time he reached the lowest campsites. The roar of the water echoed off the mountains.

He waded through icy runoff, ignoring the cold clutching at his midsection. He checked each of the tents, then hurried up to the next site.

At the third one he found a girl who was maybe eleven or twelve. She was crouched at the base of a tree, crying. Angel took her by the arm and pulled her to him. Rain poured over both of them.

“Let’s get out of here,” he told her.

The girl shook her head. “I can’t swim.”

“Then heading away from the water is the best plan.”

She trembled but didn’t move. Angel didn’t bother to argue anymore. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the main trail. At the base of it, he found Taryn waiting.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded loudly.

“Making sure you get out, too,” Taryn said. “Don’t worry. The Acorns are all safe. I did a head count before I came back.”

He swore under his breath, then thrust the girl at her. “She’s in shock. Get her to the top and out of the cold.”

“I will.”

He wanted to say more, but he had three sites to check. The rain fell hard and he could hear the water even from here. It was rising fast.

“Go,” Taryn told him. “I’ll take care of her.”

He nodded. In the distance came two sharp explosions. Trees, he though grimly as he hurried along the muddy path. The water had reached the tree line.

He couldn’t see very far in front of him. Rain blinded him and he was cold to the bone. Still, he checked the last of the campsites. They were empty. He turned to the main trail only to find it was now covered in water that rose visibly every second.

As he watched, a couple of coolers floated by. There was a chair, then an air mattress. He moved faster. He hoped to hell Taryn had gotten the girl off the trail, because it wouldn’t be very long until there wasn’t a trail.

He waded through the rising water. Something hard hit him and he nearly went down. He grabbed a nearby tree branch and managed to stay on his feet. But there was no way he could get back to the trail.

He did the only thing possible—he went straight up the mountain. Hand over hand, dragging himself under branches and around bushes. Mud and debris seeped into his clothing, but he kept moving. There was a rumble as part of the mountain started to give way. Then he was up over the side and pulling himself to his feet so he could get to the parking lot and do a head count.

He arrived there a couple of minutes later. There was chaos everywhere. Parents ran around frantically looking for their girls. Angel brushed the mud from his face and realized the rain had stopped. But the flood waters would keep rising.

“People! Please!” Denise Hendrix yelled, trying to get the group to pay attention.

Angel walked over to her, put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loud enough to wake the dead. Everyone turned toward him.

“Everyone get over here,” he yelled. “Parents, line up in rows of ten. Stop crying and screaming and get over here—now! I went through the camps myself. The tents are empty.”

By now they were all gone, but there was no point in mentioning that now.

“Line up,” he repeated. “Only in groups of ten. Girls, stand with your grove. Grove Keepers, show them where you want them.”