But right now, I felt my dad’s heart hammering beneath my arms. He was as scared as I was, but he was doing his damndest not to show it, trying to be strong for me, doing what he could to protect me.
Dad’s hands tightened over mine. “You hang on, you hear me?” he ordered. “You’re gonna be okay, Angelkins.”
I rested my head against his back, closed my eyes, and breathed in everything about him. The stubborn streak a mile wide, the prickly attitude, the times he’d come through for me when it really mattered.
“I love you, Dad.”
I felt the vibration of a response, but his words were lost in a sudden loud snap and a horrible groaning creak as the house jerked hard to the right.
I clutched at him. “Here goes. Hold on!”
“What the hell d’ya think I’m doing?” he snapped back, and I damned near laughed with delight at his ornery spirit.
And then there was no more time for talk. With a final groan the house slid fully off its pilings, then tilted like a capsizing yacht. My dad reflexively scrabbled for purchase as we began to slide, but I kept my grip clamped around him. As we slid toward the water I tried to kick us away from the roof, suddenly filled with the image of us getting sucked under by the sinking house. Didn’t make a difference. The roiling current snatched us and threw us right into the thick of the maelstrom. Water closed over our heads, and I kicked frantically, but I couldn’t even tell which way was up. Something hard and heavy smacked into us, and I briefly lost my grip on my dad. Only the pants and jacket tied around us kept me from losing him entirely.
I got an arm around him again, broke the surface, coughing and sputtering. “Dad,” I gasped. “Dad!”
His arms hung limp in the water, but he gave a weak cough and moan, reassuring me that he was still breathing at least. I clung to him with one arm while I fought to keep both our heads above water by kicking my feet and desperately paddling with my free arm. A grey-toned world, its sounds oddly flat, told me that my senses had faded—meaning I was either hurt or tired as all hell. Damn good chance it was both. The current flung us about, and I whimpered in barely controlled terror.
Something hit me hard in the back, driving the breath from me. I faltered in my frantic treading but somehow managed to get us back to the surface after only a couple of seconds. The raging water swept us past houses, light poles, trees, and who-the-hell-knew what else. I had absolutely no way to tell where we were or how far the flood had carried us.
I made a flailing grab at a tree as we swept by and managed to get my arm hooked around a branch. A thup-thup sound penetrated my dulled senses and the roar of the water. The helicopter! But how the hell would they find us? We were nowhere near where my house used to be. Though I thought I could see the chopper approaching, I didn’t dare let go of my dad to wave for help. I didn’t trust our makeshift safety belt to hold him, and I needed every ounce of strength to keep his head above water.
“An…gel…kins?” I barely heard the moan.
“Here, Dad!” I gasped out. “I…hear a helicopter. Can you wave your arms…or something?”
He floundered an arm out of the water in a weak wave. “If I…die…”
“You’re not gonna die!” I yelled at him, though it came out as more of a strangled croak. Shit, my voice was going all raspy. I was going to start falling apart soon.
Without any warning, the branch I held gave way. I let out a startled shout as the current sucked us away, but only a second later something punched me in the back, and I jerked to a hard stop. Oddly, I didn’t have any problem staying afloat, but when I fumbled my free hand behind me to see what I was stuck on I realized why. I was wedged in the fork of a tree branch right below the surface. Except that one side of the fork was, well, in me.
Hunger flared hot and bright, telling me quite clearly that the branch had done some serious damage. Sudden worry gripped me, and I dragged a hand along the front of my torso, shuddering in relief once I confirmed that the branch hadn’t penetrated and hurt my dad as well.
He still struggled to wave the approaching helicopter down. I tried to lift the arm that wasn’t clamped around his waist, but my movements were too sluggish to be worth much. Instead I wrapped my legs around him and fought the intense rising hunger. I still had two bottles of brains in the side pocket of my pants, but there was zero way to get them out now without risking losing them or my grip on my dad.
The helicopter swept low toward us…and then over and past while I stifled a scream of frustration. They didn’t see us!
My dad let his arm flop back into the water. “Now what?” he asked, voice weak and barely audible. Blood seeped through his hair on the back of his head, and I took in the scent of the brain beneath it.
Now what? I echoed, then inhaled deeply. Everything slowed down. The roaring rush of the water receded to a murmur. Peripheral vision dimmed as though all light gathered into that single mouthwatering focal point in front of me. Dad? Brains. My breath hissed as I looked for something to bash the head against. Branch. I snarled in deep satisfaction, shifted my grip to hold my meal between my hands. Rushing water tried to pull it from me, steal it, and I held tighter, twisted toward the branch.
“Angel?” The sound vibrated against my chest. “Angel, what—?” Stopped me. The smell called me. That voice…I screamed in frustration. An annoying thup-thup thundered overhead, wind whipping, water thrashing. I raked my gaze upward, ready to scream my defiance. Focused. Helicopter? Helicopter. I clung to the bizarre concept like a lifeline and expanded on it. Flood. Dad. Hands on my dad’s head. No! I released it and wrapped my arms around his waist, breath whistling through my teeth with my conscious effort to hold off biting at the base of his skull.
I love you dad I love you dad I love you dad helicopter here I love you just a minute I can hold on just a minute I love you dad I love you dad I love you I love you I love you I love you
Someone tried to take my dad my meal my dad from me. I grabbed for what he cut, pants jacket brain bottles mine, wrapped it around my numb fist. Mine. I clawed at the man as he ripped my dad away, rose impossibly in the air. I screamed, reached for him. Nothing. Nothing.
I sank back, breath gurgling. Going still. Going quiet. Conserving. Waiting. An irresistible scent filling my senses, getting closer. Brains. I squinted against the wind as my prey descended toward me, my lips pulled back from my teeth in an eager snarl. I scrabbled against the tree branch, struggled to lunge and attack, rend and feast. He leaned toward me, and I threw my arm up, grabbed his ankle, pulled. Snapped at him. He reached, clamped my jaw in his hand, forced something between my teeth. My cry of rage died away as the leathery lump registered.
Brains. Chewy hunk of brains yes yes yes. My hand went to my mouth, held the chunk in place. Gnawed. Brains. Better, yes. Oh god. Yes. I’m…Me. I’m Me.
By the time I chewed and chewed and swallowed the brain-lump down, a hint of coherent thought returned to let me know I was almost up the cable with my rescuer. The desperate urge to rip his brain from his skull had eased to Gee, He Sure Smells Yummy, but…
Oh my god. Dad? Nausea and worry swept through me. Dad.
As soon as I neared the open side door of the helicopter, strong hands grabbed me and hauled me the rest of the way in. Someone else wrapped a blanket around me and shoved an already-opened packet of brains into my free hand. I greedily sucked it down and as soon as I finished that one, the empty was yanked from my grasp and replaced with a fresh one. My gut did a strange lurch, and I realized that my innards were still in the process of healing from the serious damage caused by the tree branch.