A Man Like Him. Rachel Brimble
Barely a minute had passed and now the water burst over the top step and worse, over the swimming pools to the side of the dining area.
“My God.” The words whispered like a plea from between Angela’s freezing lips.
The power of the water, the noise of it, was deafening. It mixed with people’s terrified screams, their pleas to God and their shouts for missing family and friends. Angela brought her hands to her head in an effort to concentrate, to think of the next thing to do. She turned around three hundred and sixty degrees.
There was no way out. Nowhere else to go than up.
The water rushed like a gathering tsunami, splitting around her and running at such a speed, filthy gray froth crested its waves. She needed to move people onto the clubhouse roof. There was no other option.
With her heart pounding and her ears ringing, she looked to the car roofs, barely visible below, when minutes before people had been sitting inside hoping for escape. Horror ripped through her body at the sight of people swimming toward her, their eyes wide with fear. Furniture, suitcases, clothes and debris passed in an undulating torrent. How many? How many would survive? How much weight could the roof withstand?
Making a snap decision, she cupped her hands around her mouth. “Everybody. On the roof. Get your families on the clubhouse roof. Now!”
Sending up a silent prayer, she took a deep breath and dived back into the water. With a strength borne from adrenaline and her fight for survival, she cut through the water and grasped flaying hands. One after another, she brought people to the edge of what she hoped would be safety. Her shins smacked against the stone steps time and again before she turned and swam back out into the murky water.
Another life. Another human being. She brought more and more people to the clubhouse before heading back out again. Her arms were little more than lengths of rubber. Her lungs screamed for mercy. A sob escaped her and as Angela gasped for air, the water rose and took her under.
* * *
THE PARK MANAGER disappeared beneath the water and Chris’s gut leaped into his throat. One minute she was there. The next gone. The attraction—the protectiveness—he had when he first saw her wrenched through his chest. He had to get to her. A woman like her couldn’t die like this. The haunted look in her eyes lingered in his memory.
He felt the connection between them—an affinity, and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t find out why. He darted his gaze left and right. Chaos reigned supreme. He ran his hand over the little girl’s forearm nestled beneath his chin in an attempt to comfort her as his mind whirled with what to do next. He’d pulled her from the water but had no idea who she belonged to.
“Everything’s going to be all right, sweetheart.”
With her parents nowhere in sight, Chris’s words dissolved into the panicked air. He should get her to safety, but his gaze drew back to where the manager had vanished once again. She’d resurfaced and was now desperately reaching out to passing pieces of furniture and other debris to use as an anchor.
He drew in a deep breath. “Hey! Over here. I’m coming. Hold on.”
Her arms continued to flail, her mouth set in grim determination. There was no way she could hear him. The need to save her roared through his blood once more. He’d seen her drag one person after another to safety without regard for her own life.
He’d liked she was oblivious to him watching her. Now he wanted to see her look straight at him. Fear for her beat hard in his chest. Her strength was phenomenal, but the strongest woman on earth would lose the fight against a current building with this much ferocity.
He gritted his teeth and reached out, gripping a man’s wrist as he came out of the water on a forward stroke. The man’s eyes were frenzied and he looked past Chris toward the mirage of the disappearing clubhouse.
“Get off me.” The man tried to yank his wrist away. “What the hell are you doing?”
Chris tightened his grip and reached for the girl on his back. “Take her. Take her with you.”
The man looked to the girl and shook his head. He made to swim away but Chris held fast. “Take her or so help me God, I’ll drown you myself. Right here. Right now.”
The man cursed before grabbing the girl beneath the arms. He tossed her onto his back. She remained eerily quiet as her gaze locked on Chris. Clearly she knew she had no choice but to be passed from one strange man to another.
He forced a smile and winked. “I’ll see you on the roof, okay?”
She nodded, her bottom lip trembling. The man swam forward and in seconds they were spots in the distance. Chris focused his mind on the woman he needed to save. He couldn’t think about the girl, the man or anyone else for the time being.
He plunged forward. The manager was nowhere to be seen. He circled around. His muscles screamed with fatigue. His heart thundered in his ears. Where the hell was she? He inhaled a deep breath and sank into the dark, cold depths. Nothing but black space loomed in front of his open eyes. He reached blindly forward.
His fingers bumped hard surfaces of God only knew what but nothing human, nothing female. He searched for another few seconds before forcing himself upward for more air. As he broke the surface, he saw her.
Barely more than a few feet away, she fought against the rage of the swirling river water. She was static. Neither going backward nor forward. He cut one arm into the water and then the other. Each stroke brought him painstakingly closer to her. He moved his head from side to side and pictured the clear blue of a swimming pool.
The image loosened the tension in his arms and made his strokes longer and more confident. His hands splayed her waist and, in one fluid motion, he lifted her onto his back.
“Hold on,” he yelled. “Hold on.”
Her arms came around his neck and locked beneath his chin. “There are so many people. We have to help them.”
He ignored her words lest they creep inside his mind and unleash the panic and helplessness bubbling at the surface of his resolve. Inhaling another breath, Chris battled toward their last chance of anyone finding them alive. It seemed to take forever to reach the solid concrete upper floor of the clubhouse. The only building now visible from their vantage point.
He swam forward until his feet touched the steps leading to the roof where people rushed up the disappearing staircase. She slipped from his back and stared down at him.
“You’ll be all right now.” His words came out in short, sharp breaths. God, she was beautiful.
Swallowing hard, he turned and moved to dive back into the water.
“Wait!” Her yell stopped him short.
Their gazes locked. They stood paralyzed for a long moment.
“Be careful.”
Chris nodded and dived back into the water. He had to save more. He was a strong swimmer. He’d make it back. He had to.
CHAPTER THREE
FROM THE CLUBHOUSE ROOF, Angela stared out at the wreckage the flood had left behind. The rain stopped the moment the sun rose above the mountains. It lit the sky in glorious pink and peach. An ironic relief, for it also lit the devastation. Tears blurred her gaze. As far as the eye could see, the world was hidden beneath brown swirling water. The roofs of cars and the top few feet of trees punctuated the landscape like macabre reminders of what had been visible and alive with holidaymakers just a few short hours before.
“My God.” Her words caught painfully in her throat. How would the park ever recover from this? The money. The damage. Everything was beneath water and warping as five hundred or so people stood helpless watching it happen.
She turned from the horizon to stare at the anguished faces of the people who’d come to the Cove for a holiday, a break, a relaxing time away from life’s chaos. People