All they have is me.
I stand outside the building on the walkway, the rain pelting my head like a firehose pointing down from the sky. I stare at the wreckage in front of me, constantly wiping my face to see clearly. There has to be another way in.
I do a lap around the perimeter. It’s a one-story structure that connects to a ten-story building via an enclosed portion in the middle. That part looks like it was the first to go. The side exit has a big tree down in front of it. The back door I just came out of is blocked. I’m just not seeing an easy way to get inside.
Suddenly, I hear screams for help. A chill shoots down my spine. I know some of River’s sisters are in there. She’ll be devastated if anything happens to them.
Buckets of water continue pelting my head. Okay. Think. Think. I go slowly, inspecting the damage calmly. It’s a pile of wet rubble with a waterfall flowing over it. There’s a steel beam sticking out of the side. Steel beams are strong, right? Maybe if I lift it, I can create an opening.
I walk over and test the weight, lifting with two hands.
Nothing. Not even an inch.
“Sir! Sir! Please move away from the building. It’s not safe.” A security woman in a yellow slicker urges me to move back.
I tell her no and also apologize, because it’s not like me to be rude to a person who’s simply trying to do their job.
“Sir! You have to get back. That building is collapsing!”
I agree. The worst isn’t over. More of that roof is going to come down. Inside, I hear the voices pleading for help. One woman is on the phone, talking to 911. She’s saying what I’ve already figured out. All exits are blocked, and water’s coming in.
If I can manage to lift that beam, I’d have to prop it up on something, but all I see is a big dumpster over in the corner of the lot. It looks heavy.
I zip over and start pushing. To my shock, it actually moves. I push it around cars and dividers with trees until the thing is at the curb. I have to lift it and get it over the edge.
One, two, three! One edge goes up and over just enough for me to push the dumpster next to the building’s collapsed wall.
Now the woman in the slicker is just standing there in the rain, staring at me.
“I think you should move back,” I tell her. “I have no idea what’s going to happen.”
I take hold of the beam, pulling up, but it does no good. It’s too heavy. There’s no way I can do this alone.
My cell rings, and I pull it from my sopping wet jeans pocket. River.
“Huff, listen to me,” she says, “you have to get out of there. That building looks like it’s going to go.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m watching on my phone. Someone’s streaming it live, and the news is showing it.”
From my periphery, I spot that security woman pointing her phone at me. “Seriously, lady? Get out of here! It’s dangerous.”
“No. You get out of there,” River yells.
“First you beg me to come and help. Now you want me not to help. Which is it, Riv?”
“Fine! Save them. But hurry! And keep me on speaker. I want to hear what’s happening so I can keep freaking out and yelling at you to be careful.”
“Are you at the stadium now? Are you safe?” I ask.
“Yes. Go! Move!”
Goddammit. I put it on speaker and shove the thing in my pocket before I go back to the beam. I groan with frustration and then push up with everything I’ve got. One. Two. Three!
“What’s happening?” River yells. “That woman moved. I can’t see you on her livestream. Oh, wait. Never mind. They just switched the feed. There’s a news crew there now.”
Wonderful. “Stop talking. I’m trying to concentrate, Riv!” I lift until a four-foot gap opens up. The only problem is that the people inside don’t know I’m here.
I lift harder, probably blowing a few dozen blood vessels. My teeth are clenched so tight, I feel heat between them.
I manage to prop the edge of the beam on the corner of the steel dumpster. I know it’s not going to hold. I can already hear the metal groaning under the weight.
I dart inside, flagging down a few of the staff. “You can get out over there. But hurry! I don’t know how long it’s going to stay open.”
They rush and don’t stop flowing outside, crossing the flooding parking lot into the next building over. Most people are walking; a few need to be carried.
Meanwhile, I’m standing with my shoulder and hands under the beam, supporting it to make sure it doesn’t go anywhere.