Twisted Up (Taking Chances #1) - Erin Nicholas Page 0,49
right behind you.”
Brody nodded, his wide eyes filled with concern and fear.
Jake and Max each ran to their trucks to retrieve the backpacks that they both had in their trucks at all times, which held the essentials, including flashlights, water bottles, and hand tools.
“We’re ready,” Jake told Brody a minute later. “Let’s go.”
He didn’t like that these kids had been out running around by themselves. There was a lot of debris that probably looked like it would be fun to climb on or in but that could end up being very dangerous. There were also a lot of structures that needed to be cleared before anyone walked under or in them.
“What are you guys doing out tonight?” he asked as they jogged along with Brody and the other boy.
It wasn’t late, but it was starting to get darker, and with all the trucks and skid loaders roving the town, the drivers wouldn’t be thinking about looking out for kids.
“I’m supposed to be babysitting them,” Brody told them. His voice was laced with worry. “Our mom’s helping with food at the other church, and Dad is out of town until tomorrow. We’re supposed to be asleep at the church.”
Ah. They were out of their house and sleeping on the cots in one of the makeshift shelters. That sucked. It sucked for everyone, but maybe especially for the kids. Kids needed the comfort of familiar surroundings and routine.
Oh, who was he kidding? Everyone needed that to some extent.
It was going to be a while before there was anything like a usual routine in Chance. Jake knew the town wouldn’t fully settle down until things were back to normal. People would work in shifts, but there would be around-the-clock activity. Everyone would have trouble sleeping.
“Kayley snuck out?” Max guessed.
“Yeah,” Brody said. “But I know where she went. She won’t stop talking about Cooper.”
Cooper was, Jake assumed, the dog.
“We couldn’t find him after the storm. She thinks he’s stuck somewhere in the house.”
“How old is Kayley?” Jake asked.
“Six.”
Dammit.
Two minutes later, they all skidded to a stop in front of a big two-story house four blocks from the square.
To the untrained eye the house looked fine. But Jake and Max knew that the twister could have shifted the house on its foundation even though it still stood. A few inches would be enough to make it unstable.
Max pulled a high-beam flashlight from his bag. “Nobody goes in but me.”
“I’m going with you. It’ll be faster,” Jake said. He also pulled out a flashlight and some rope. If there was a dog in that house, it might be tough to “convince” the animal to come with him.
“Just give me a minute.”
“If that little girl’s in there, it’s not gonna matter if you think the place is unstable,” Jake told him. “I’m going in there to get her.”
Max sighed. “Fine.”
“Stay here,” Jake told the young boys in a voice that had commanded National Guard units. The boys nodded dutifully.
Jake and Max approached the front door with caution. “So far, so good,” Max commented.
The front door seemed to be level and shut tightly. There were no cracks or obvious shifts on the porch, doorway, or the windows on this side of the house.
Max checked the door. It was locked.
He glanced back at the boys. “How’d she get in?”
“From the back,” Brody said.
Max and Jake exchanged a look, then headed for the other side of the house.
“I’d like to edit my assessment of the situation,” Max said as they rounded the corner.
“Glad we have your expertise here,” Jake said wryly. “Otherwise how would we know when a house is structurally unstable?”
Where the front of the house had looked untouched, the back was an entirely different story. For one, there was no back of the house any longer. The house looked like one of those dollhouses that had no back wall so you could see into the rooms. The roof had been lifted off, and the sides of the house were angled in. Windows were broken; furniture, clothing, and belongings were scattered; and most of the second floor was resting on the first.
“Dammit.” Max started forward.
Jake was right behind him.
“Kayley!” Jake called as he neared the rubble blocking the living room. He scanned the pile of debris, gauging the best way to go over it. In the descending dusk it was hard to know if there were nails or ragged pieces of metal or glass. He wanted to find the girl, but he preferred to do it with minimal bloodshed.