Chapter 80

Already, the water level in the ground floor of the house was lower, enough of it having gone down into the shelter that it had made an impact.

I noticed that the shutters had torn off a couple of the windows, and the glass was smashed higher up the house. It seemed the bottom floor was intact, however. I had no idea what had happened to the glass, but I was glad it didn't seem to be in the water that had rushed down at us.

Wading farther in, I went toward the stairs, but Jack put his arm out and stopped me.

"The structure might not be safe enough," he explained as he slowly made his way to the kitchen.

Not sure what else to do, I followed. Other than the water, there wasn't much damage to the inside of the house on this floor, and Jack quickly decided to get us both something to eat.

"We'll need to keep our strength up. It might be a long night," he said as he handed me some snacks and a bottle of water.

Again, I didn't argue, but I didn't feel like I could relax either. I felt adrift, as if the storm had tossed me about directly, my emotions numb from the constant fear and worry. We were still alive, but I felt as if it had cost me everything and upended my life in a way I'd never seen coming.

We ate in silence as Jack tried to assess the damage and get a feel for how bad it was outside.

The wind was still whistling around the building, but it grew quieter as we ate and looked around some more.

"I think it's worth taking a look outside," Jack said a moment later. "Before it gets too dark to see."

I paused, frozen. It hadn't occurred to me that it would be dark and there was no electricity anymore. Did we even have a way to communicate with anyone and ask for help?

Would help even be able to come? The boat had been heading to a port even nearer the storm. Would they have been emerging from shelters to similar scenes as this only a few hours earlier?

I had no idea, but the thoughts running through my head terrified me. I didn't know if I could cope, but I had nowhere to go. Being on a small island with Jack had been the worst decision of my entire life, and now I was stuck here, waiting to be rescued in a wrecked house with no heating or electricity and only so much food.

On top of that, I'd possibly just lost my most important possessions. The kind that money couldn't replace.

Jack moved to the nearest door and slowly unlocked it, pulling back the bolts and trying to ease it open. The water had warped the bottom, and it stuck at first, but eventually, he got it open.

Immediately, the water rushed out of the door, turning what had been a trickle into a torrent. I moved closer to watch it run down the hill toward the shore, the wind blowing it around before it reached the beach.

The pontoon was wrecked, a lot of the planks torn off. The smaller staff building and storage sheds had fared better from the outside, the lower profile and trees around them having possibly offered some protection, although I noticed shallow streams of water coming out of both of them as if they, too, had taken on water at some point but couldn't spit it out as fast as it had gushed in.

I walked out into the storm after Jack, although I kept close to the house. Here and there, trees were down, one having hit the patio at the side of the house but not broken anything.

The torn-off shutters were twisted hulks of metal farther up one of the pathways, having stuck on trees, mangling them and the living plants.

If I'd felt the storm had been destructive before, it was a thousand times worse now, surveying everything it had done to the island.

"I'm going to check out the generator and see if I can get some kind of power back on," Jack said a moment later. "Be careful where you step and what you do."

I nodded and headed to the most sheltered side of the house. After being in the water and now out in the wind, I was feeling cold. A few times, I tried to think of something I could use to get warm, but I hadn't brought a coat with me, and the blankets and towels were on the second floor of the house—unreachable, according to Jack's prior warning.

Deciding to keep moving for the warmth alone, I went after Jack in the end.

I found him in a small shed-like structure, the walls so solid they'd held, although a small corner of the roof had torn up. Inside was the generator, and as soon as I appeared in the doorway, Jack held out his hand to warn me from coming forward.

"It got wet in here. I don't want you to get hurt," he said.

"Yet you're in there," I replied, irritation coming to the surface as I lashed out at him with my words.

He ignored the snappy response, focusing on the machine in front of him and checking out panels and readings I didn't understand. Once again feeling adrift and unable to anchor myself to any task or function, I wandered off, checking out the destruction elsewhere.

It was clear that waves must have come right up and over the island. It was probably what had filled the buildings with water, but the water had receded back to previous levels, or at least close enough.

Even as I explored further, the storm grew quieter until it was no worse than a strong breeze.

If I'd seen the aftermath in pictures, I knew I wouldn't have felt impacted by it much. I'd have felt a small pang of sadness for the ruined beauty of the place, and I'd have been able to keep going and live my life normally, but there was something very different about seeing it close up.

My mind didn't want to think about anything but going home. Of running away from all of this. Yet, I had to wait until I was rescued.

By the time I made my way back to the house, I had started drying, no longer quite as cold, and the sun was setting. Jack wasn't by the generator, but it wasn't running either.

Anxiety crept into me again as the numbness faded at the thought of fresh difficulties through the night, and I went in search of Jack.

He was in the storage shed with a set of tools and instructions, trying to fix something, and it didn't look like he wanted to be interrupted. Knowing I needed a task, I looked through the contents of the shed, trying to figure out how we'd make food with no power, and stumbled upon the gas grill sitting in one corner.

It was wet at the bottom, a scummy water line and residue below that showing how high the water in the shed had come. Thankfully, it didn't seem to have reached the top of the gas tank or the cooking area.

Grabbing the handle, I lifted one end and wheeled the contraption into the open. Jack glanced my way a few times, but he didn't say anything until I'd gotten it set up. Then, he caught my eye.

"Cook whatever you want, and plenty of it. Unless I can get the generator working, it's all going to spoil. We might as well eat it."

I nodded, grateful to be doing something useful. I could feed us if nothing else. And the grill would be warm. At least until the gas ran out.