Flood Plains Mark Wheaton (inspirational books for students .TXT) 📖

Big Time eased himself down until his feet were as close to the ledge as possible. He took a deep breath, leaned against the window, and let go of the roof. He landed as if he had baby-hopped off a step, except the step he landed on was as slick as ice. He slipped backwards but managed to regain his balance by throwing himself forward against the glass. He placed his hands flat and took a breath to make sure he wasn’t going to crack right through the window and into the factory.

As he regained his composure, he saw tendrils of thin sludge break off from the air conditioner-and-skylight-focused main body and skirt across the ceiling towards him.

“Gotta make this fast,” he called back to the roof but doubted anyone could hear him over the storm.

He squatted down on the ledge, turned, and brought himself into a seated position. If he dropped himself down like he had from the roof, it would be about a ten-foot drop into eight feet of water, which he thought he could handle. He knew there was a chance he’d land bad, fall too heavy and sink, smacking into concrete or any other obstacle that had washed in, but he was going to be careful. He was envisioning a nice, clear lane to drop into between two trucks and was trying to will that into existence when he suddenly slid forward.

At first, he thought it had been the same thing that shoved Elmer into the water but soon realized it was just the slick window ledge. He scrambled to regain his balance, but the weight of his legs pulled him right over. At the last second, he had the presence of mind to shove himself away from the building.

When he hit the water, the frigid water was bad enough, but then he smacked his arm into the wheel well of one of the trucks, snapping it clean.

“FUCK!”

“Big Time! What happened?”

Big Time fought to get upright but found himself with nothing to stand on. His arm throbbing with pain, he struggled to get farther up the ramp to a place where his feet would touch concrete.

“I think I broke my arm,” he yelled when the water was finally only up to his chin. Explosions of pain followed as he tested it again. “Yeah, it’s toast. Shit.”

Over by the skylight, Zakiyah’s eyes went wide. A thick tendril of black had separated from the vertical worm and was sliding through the water towards the garage doors at the back of the factory. She jumped to her feet and ran over to the edge.

“It’s coming right at you!”

Big Time had only just heard these words when something impacted with the nearest garage door, smacking it so hard it bent the metal. Big Time wheeled around and made his way to the nearest truck cab. Reaching out for the door, he immediately realized there was one thing he hadn’t accounted for.

The cab door was locked.

As the second thunderous impact reverberated from the garage door, Big Time just shook his head.

“Can’t even make this easy on me, huh, Lord?”

Chapter 18

Across town, Sineada’s mind was racing as fast as Big Time’s. The attic was almost completely dark, and she knew that the liquid was likely invading every break and pore in the roof to get to them.

There really was only one option.

“Mia. Down the ladder.”

Sineada could just make out Mia’s face in the darkness. She was clearly terrified, frozen in her fear.

Now, Mia. We don’t have time.

This startled the little girl, and she got to her feet. The attic door was hard to lower from inside the attic, but the two of them put all their weight on it. It finally broke free, and Mia pushed it down the rest of the way.

Immediately, water sloshed up into the attic from below. The floodwaters were now almost up to the ceiling.

“It’s deep!” Mia protested.

“You won’t be in it long. Just swim to the front door and out of the house. Just get as far away as possible.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” Sineada said, knowing it was a lie. “I’m not going to die in my own attic. Day’s not over yet.”

Mia nodded and lowered herself into the water.

“Come on, Abuela.”

Sineada knew the water was going to be a shock to her system even before her feet sank into its cold. She couldn’t swim but thought she could at least float after Mia. At least until the little girl got out the front door. The old woman had no illusions about getting away from the monster now seeping into the attic but was still surprised when she was bashed from behind by the poltergeist force. It sent her awkwardly forward and into the water with a great splash.

“Oh, Lord,” she cried, struggling to tread water.

“Sineada!” Mia yelled from halfway down the hall.

“Keep going! Don’t look back!”

But even as she said this, Mia had begun swimming back towards her.

“No! Mia, go back!”

That’s when a new voice echoed through the house.

“Mia? Mrs. Araujo? Are you in here?”

“Daddy!” Mia cried, turning back to the front of the house.

Suddenly, Alan, dressed head to toe in his orange prison jumpsuit with “Harris County D.O.C.” stamped on the back, appeared at the end of the hall, up to his neck in floodwater. Sineada saw him looking past her and into the attic with widening eyes.

“Move, now!”

Sineada and Mia flattened themselves as best they could against the wall as Alan swam directly for the attic door. He slammed it shut just as the poltergeist force smacked into it, shaking the house.

“That’ll hold it for about fifteen seconds,” Alan said. “Let’s get moving.”

Sineada nodded and allowed Alan to carry her down the hall and out of the house. When they were outside, the velocity of the wind surprised Sineada. It hadn’t felt this strong inside the house, but now they were out in the storm, powerless in its thrall.

“There!” Alan said, indicating what appeared