On the TV screen, a handsome young reporter armored in stylish all-weather gear leaned hard into the rainy gale, grinning and squinting into the camera light before turning his tousled head of perfectly windblown hair toward the torrent of whitewater grinding several apparently abandoned cars against an overpass piling in the background.

“What you see behind me,” shouted the young man, with obvious relish, “is the Rutherford freeway exchange at 85th Avenue, many miles away from the flooding riverfront—until just two hours ago. Now, the river has come to it, with a speed that seems to have taken the city’s emergency managers by surprise. Thankfully, signs that flood walls in Cherry Grove and Westbeach might fail came just soon enough to move thousands of people in the Saddle out of this disaster’s way. Nonetheless, emergency services are reporting nearly a hundred calls for help from throughout the affected area since the walls failed just before seven o’clock, and every available resource is now being deployed in the race to respond.” He turned back to look gravely at the camera, and brushed back his hair. Oh, aren’t you the action hero, Anna thought wearily. “Ironically, the large amount of water being diverted through this breach has eased some pressure on other areas of anticipated flooding along the city’s waterfront. Large industrial pumps and other equipment previously allocated to those expected trouble spots are now being rapidly redeployed to the Saddle’s east end in hope of draining flood water already backing up there. But city officials are being very frank tonight. Even if this unprecedented and baffling storm were to end right now, it will almost certainly take years, if not decades, for our city to recover fully from this historic tragedy.”

Anna lifted the remote to dim the sound and turned away, repelled by the young man’s ill-concealed enthusiasm. How could he mouth the very words, ‘historic tragedy,’ and still not seem to understand that this was not some kind of entertainment? …Youth, she thought, feeling her lip curl. Had she been like that—at his age? So busy living in some mental comic book that the real world and its real pain, all around you, didn’t even register?

There had certainly been a time when she had rushed toward risk. A time when any edge had thrilled her. … Was she just getting old now? She heaved a sigh and headed for the couch.

It had been more than half an hour since Thom rushed out, and though she knew he couldn’t even have arrived yet, Anna kept wishing he would call.

To say…what? That Dusty had called him back, and Colleen was found? False alarm? They were all headed home?

But Thom hadn’t called—half an hour later. Anna glanced back at the TV screen, where some new expert was waving his arms across a satellite map, doubtless gone operatic again about all the established weather science this inexplicable storm was trashing. Oh—and your city too, of course. Didn’t mean to overlook that. And people’s lives…

She couldn’t even turn it off—because at any moment they might say something that actually mattered—something she’d have to pass along to Thom.

And it pissed her off that she had let him talk her into staying here! She hated wandering around the house alone right now with what to do, while everyone else was out there doing something that might matter. “If something else goes wrong, we can’t all be out there in it, with no one left at home to call,” he’d said. “We need a stable command center—outside the war zone—more than we need one more person out there in the thick of it, risking who knows what.” He’d made it all sound so rational. Like he always did. So inevitable. Such a rational, capable man. That was, admittedly, one of the things she loved about him. And admired. Sometimes. Until she didn’t. But what was ‘command central’ actually supposed to do if something more did go wrong—way out there—while she was here without even a car? She helped people deal with crises of national scale—around the world! That was her job! So why was everybody but her out there doing something now?

“Oh, Anna…” she huffed quietly. “Have they stolen your adventure?” She shook her head, and laughed, a bit derisively. At herself. I’m no better than that jerk on the news, she thought. Probably why she’d loathed him so much. He’d snuck up on her with an unexpected reflection of herself.

What if Colleen was in some kind of real trouble? What if Thom did end up needing someone here to call? Someone not in the thick of it. That reporter had just all but announced that anyone else requiring help tonight was likely on their own. We have neighbors, Anna thought. I could borrow a car if I needed one. Where’s all that resourcefulness you were just waving around, Anna?

She looked over her shoulder at the TV again—where more cascades of foaming water poured past darkened shop fronts—and shuddered. Whatever had happened to Colleen, there was no way such a smart, sensible young woman had gone anywhere near that kind of mess.

So, where was she? …So many other ways to find trouble on such a night.

Most likely, her phone had gotten wet and died, and she and Dusty were just still driving in circles looking for each other, unable to communicate. Most likely... All of them out there in the sopping dark, while Anna was warm and dry here—and complaining about it.

She sighed again, and looked down at the stack of paper on her coffee table. Matt’s bizarre tome. She’d been meaning to get back to it all day, but there’d been the rush to get Colleen and Dusty out the door. Then Thom and she had finally had some time alone together to celebrate their anniversary, and open his present to her: the most gorgeous opal pendant she had ever seen in her lifetime. She knew he’d gotten it for her, in spite of what it cost, just because it was so beautiful. Unlike a lot of men she’d met, Thom recognized and valued beauty when he saw it. For its own sake. She’d heard lots of people claim to care more about beauty than about money. But Thom really did.

He was…a man to be admired. A man worthy of her love—however frustrating at times.

And then they’d seen news about the Saddle, and called Dusty. And there was her pile of pages, still virtually unvisited. Well…if ever she had needed a distraction, tonight was surely it. She picked up the stack and riffled through it to find her place, wondering, suddenly, where Matt was riding out this storm. Was he still even in the city anymore? Had he written her that morning from a dry room of his own somewhere, or from some local internet café, on a computer rented with panhandled change? She hoped as much had changed for him in seven years as it had for Dusty and herself—though nothing she’d read in these pages made any of those changes sound encouraging.

Her mind wandered back to the letter she and Dusty had been given—was that really only yesterday? It had said something about restraining someone’s ‘harvest.’ Anna could no longer recall all its exact words, but ‘they’ had expressed concern that only Matt would see ‘what was happening’ if this ‘harvest’ wasn’t stopped. ‘Come to help your own.’ She remembered those words too. So…what was being harvested? Who were ‘his own?’

These questions had been bothering her all day—when she’d had any time to think of Matt at all, that is. The terms ‘harvest’ and ‘your own’ together made her very uncomfortable. Had the letter been suggesting that someone was ‘harvesting’ street kids—like Matt? Or vagrants in general, perhaps?

Once more, the thought sent chills down her back and arms. She supervised staff in countries where such an idea would shock no one. It was simply done. To stock brothels. To supply guerrilla armies with fresh conscripts. Even to supply the black market in organs. But here? In the United States? In this very city? She couldn’t believe it. Yet…who would even think to wonder about disappearing street kids? They came and went like cats. Who would notice, much less report them missing? Might as well report the setting sun—again tonight.

She shook the whole thing off, and looked back down at the page in front of her. She’d left off—hours ago—just after Matt and the mysterious girl had entered some kind of rather florid attic…

“What is all this?” I asked, waving at the bizarrely decorated room.

“This is…well, its name would be meaningless to you,” she said, “and you are not supposed to be here, really, so let’s just call it ‘this place’ for now, okay?” She gave me a tight, apologetic little smile, reaching into another cupboard for a tall, narrow bottle of amber-colored oil and some spice jars. “As I’m sure you must have guessed by now, your kind is not supposed to know we even exist. That’s one of our most basic laws of life—though after what my mother’s done, I can’t see how we’re supposed to go on hiding from you.”

She reached under the countertop again for a frying pan, two bowls and some more utensils. “So,” she sighed, “if you’ve got questions that pertain to your situation, we might as well get started.”

If…I had questions?

When her phone rang, Anna dropped the pages and leapt from the couch to grab it off the coffee table. She looked at the screen, expecting to see Thom’s name, but was startled—then horrified—to see a call from Colleen’s mother instead. Of all times, now? What could Anna say that wouldn’t put Shelly in a panic? Or…did she know already, somehow? Had Dusty called her too for some reason? Or had Colleen, perhaps?

“Shelly!” she answered brightly. “What a surprise!”

“Hello, Anna.” She sounded strangely sheepish. “Have I caught you at a bad time?”

“Oh, no! I’m just…kicking around the house. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Shelly sighed. “Well…I’m starting to feel like one of those mothers you read about, but I’m sitting here watching more and more terrifying news about what’s happening out there.”

“Oh, yes,” said Anna. “It’s mind-boggling. And no one saw it coming. Thanks so much for calling this morning to alert us. We weren’t paying much attention to the news.”

“Yes,” Shelly said, sympathetically. “Colleen told me it was your anniversary. I’m not sure whether to offer congratulations or condolences. Was breakfast nice, at least?”

“Delightful! Your daughter’s an amazing cook.”

“Well, yes, she really enjoys that sort of thing. I’m just so glad I don’t have to—as is Robert. He ate enough of my cooking early on to know how lucky we are to have a cook now.”

“Oh, do you?” Anna rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I knew that.”

“Oh, yes,” said Shelly. “For years! Her name is Cynthia, and she’s fabulous. I can’t believe we’ve never talked about her! What she does—not just amazingly delicious, but so healthy! You should hear her go on about nutritional balance and metabolic dynamics, and all of that. I think she has some kind of master’s degree or something. We were so lucky to find her. We’d be eating canned ham every night, and fat as blimps by now.”

Anna doubted that somehow. She’d never seen Shelly looking like she hadn’t just stepped out of a gym somewhere, and dashed through a salon on her way to the wardrobe. “Well, I’m not much into cooking either. Fortunately, I have Thom for that.”

“Yes, you do. Even luckier! Congratulations, again.”

“So, did you just call to wish us a happy anniversary?”

“Oh, no. Actually…I’m really sorry to be such a Nervous Nelly, but Colleen said she’d call me when she got back home, and, well, that was nearly an hour ago, which would normally just be par for the course with her, but with everything going on there right now… I broke down, and called her again, but she’s not answering her phone for some reason, and when Dusty didn’t pick up either, I just…well, I remembered that she said something this morning about having a safe place to stay with you and Thom if things got bad tonight, which it sounds like they have. …Are they with you? Do you have any idea why they’re not answering their phones?”

“Uh…” Crap, crap, crap. “You talked to Colleen an hour ago?”

“Yes… She was out buying batteries—for some flashlights,” Shelly said. “She’s not there, then?”

Batteries? Had Colleen stopped at some store for batteries—and just left her phone in the car? Was that why no one could find her? “She and Dusty are on their way here. They went back to her apartment to get some things she’ll need if she ends up stuck with us for a while. I’m actually hoping they’ll be back any time. Did she say anything else to you—about where she was, or what else was going on?”

“You’re telling me that she and Dusty are driving across the city—now? Through what I’m seeing on TV?”

“Well…she hasn’t told you any of this?”

“Not a thing.” Shelly no longer sounded happy. “This morning, she was cooking you all breakfast. When we talked this evening, I just assumed she was driving down the block from her apartment for those batteries, or maybe out getting them for you and Thom, somewhere near your house. Can you fill me in any further?”

“I…don’t know much more than I’ve told you, I’m afraid. I certainly understand your concern. I’ll feel much better myself when they’re back here.”

“It’s hard to be so far away with all this happening,” Shelly said. “And Robert’s in Toronto. He’s concerned as well, of course, but he’s…more hands off than me.”

“I’m sorry to hear you’re alone, Shelly. I know how that feels too—at times like this.”

“Thank you for understanding. But, would you please make sure someone calls me the minute they get back? I’m… Now… I just wish she’d told me.”

I do too, Anna thought. “Listen, Thom’s out right now as well, actually, taking care of some things. But I can call him if you’d like, to see if he’s heard anything from Dusty? I’ll get right back to you, of course—either way. Shall I do that?”

“Yes, please. I’d appreciate it. I don’t want to wonder.” Shelly paused. “And…it helps to talk with someone. While we wait, you know?”

“I do,” said Anna. “I’ll get right back to you. In just a minute, okay?”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye.”

As soon as Shelly hung up, Anna dialed Thom.

“Hi, Anna. What’s up?”

“Shelly just called, wondering why Colleen and Dusty aren’t answering their phones.”

“Oh god…” he sighed.

“I managed not to tell her anything, but I won’t be able to keep this up for much longer without actually lying to her—which I am absolutely not going to do. I don’t want to put her in a panic before we know what’s really happening, but I have no idea what to say. I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything new?”

His silence alarmed her more than anything he could have said. “Oh…Thom, what?”

“Dusty just heard from her. The call was short, and it got cut off before he could learn anything except that her car’s been swept up in the Saddle flood—”

“Oh! No!” Anna gasped.

“—and she’s stranded somewhere east of Chapman Boulevard. On top of her car, apparently.”

“Oh, Thom! How? What was she—”

“We don’t know, Anna. They’d gotten separated. And then she hung up on him to take some other call. Probably from 911. I can’t imagine who else she’d have hung up on Dusty for. That’s all I know.”

“This is…a nightmare! How long have you—”

“—Five minutes. Dusty’s calling 911 right now.”

“And you didn’t call me?”

“I’m nearly there, Anna. I wanted to know something more before…doing this to you.”

Everybody working so hard to keep everybody else safely in the dark, she thought angrily. “So…we have no idea where she is. Just that she’s in…serious trouble? Oh, god, Thom. I…feel so helpless here. And… I have to call Shelly back, and tell her this.”

“I’m so sorry, honey,” Thom said gently. “I feel just as helpless out here. And I will call you back as soon as I get there. We do know she was alive a couple minutes ago, and on top of her car. As horrible as that sounds, it suggests the car must at least be stationary somewhere. I can’t see anyone making a phone call from the roof of a moving car. So there’s a good chance she’s just stuck—in one place—and we’ll find her there and get her safe. Make sure all that is clear to Shelly too, okay?”

Anna wasn’t the crying type. She hadn’t been since childhood. But she was struggling hard to keep her composure now. Only Thom would try to make a good thing of the fact that Colleen was trapped on top of her car in a massive flood. How was she going to say any of this to Shelly—who would understand immediately that Anna had known more than she’d said just minutes earlier? “Okay,” she answered him. “I’ll tell her, but I doubt it’ll matter much to a woman over a thousand miles away while her only child might be…” Anna couldn’t finish the sentence—refused to let herself think it. …Not yet. “I want to hear from you the minute you know anything new, Thom. Anything. …Unless calling me puts someone’s life in danger.”

“Understood,” Thom said sadly. “I love you. I love Dusty and Colleen. I will do whatever it takes…whatever I can, to get her back. Tell Shelly that for me instead, if you think it’s better.”

“I know,” she said, feeling awful about snapping at him—in the middle of this. “I’m sorry. Thank you for knowing to leave when you did. …And for finding any reason to hope, with so little to go on. Please be careful. I can’t…lose any more of you.”

“We haven’t lost anyone yet, love. We’re a long way from beaten. Trust me.”

“I do.” A few tears finally escaped as her control stuttered. “I love you too, Thom. I believe in you. If anyone can help her, help either of them, I know you can. I’d better go face Shelly now.”

“Good luck, love. Sorry I can’t be there with you.”

“I’m glad you’re not. For their sakes. Luck to all of you. Bye.”

She hung up and gave herself not even a second to breathe or get ‘composed.’ Momentum was her only hope of getting through this. She tapped Shelly’s number, and got just one ring to gather her thoughts.

“Hi?” Shelly said, uncertainly.

“Hi, Shelly. I…have some really difficult things to tell you.”