Olivia sat on the edge of her seat, tension knotting heaviest in her shoulders and calves. It was all she could do not to urge Gabe to drive faster even though he was already pressing the upper edge of what was safe for the winding highway. The truck wipers seemed to pulse over and over to the beat of “Hold. Still. Hold. Still.”

When she directed him to turn on the road leading to the river access, she was thankful Gabe didn’t find it necessary to slow to a crawl the way many drivers did on dirt roads. Even so, what felt like an agonizing four or five minutes later, Olivia spotted an ocean of brown water covering acres of fields and creeping past the narrow tree line a few hundred feet away on the left side of the road.

“We must be getting close,” Gabe said, having spotted it too.

The as-of-yet-unflooded farmland they passed was mostly still winter-brown, but a few fields had the yellow-green of newly emerging growth. Small country houses popped up here and there. This side of town tended to be more run-down than most other areas of New Madrid, and a handful of the modest houses were in different stages of disrepair. Some needed nothing more than a few coats of paint, a power wash, or some landscaping attention. A few others were littered with long-discarded toys or broken-down cars.

They spotted the Camaro at the same time. The house that it was parked in front of was in the shabbiest condition of any house on the road, close to condemnable even from what Olivia could see through the remains of last year’s overgrowth of trees and shrubs pressing up against it. Certainly, the partially collapsed front porch was a hazard. The back of the property dipped in such a way that it seemed unlikely the house wouldn’t take on water before the river crested tomorrow.

“If we’re too late…” She swallowed back the rest. They weren’t too late. They were right on time. It couldn’t be any other way.

Gabe’s tires skidded to a halt on the wet gravel driveway. “Stay put, bud,” he directed Samson. Proving again the almost humanlike connection between them, Samson responded with a soft whine and settled back onto the bench seat.

The teens who’d spotted the dog were nowhere in sight. “I’m guessing they’re around back?” Olivia grabbed her jacket and the bolt cutters and hopped out into the rain. The soft gurgle of rushing water made the hair on the back of her neck and arms stand on end as she tugged into a jacket that was nearly as wet inside now as it was outside.