Without any warning, a loud crash echoes through the library, and shards of stained glass fly through the air off to my right. Immediately after, water flows rapidly from the broken window, crashing into tables and chairs and scattering them about. As the water reaches the shelves, they begin to sway.
“Kas, get out of there!”
The water is up to my knees and rising. I can’t think straight. I hear another window break, but it’s too dark to tell if all the water is coming from the windows, the broken front door, or the back entrance. My mind hyperfocuses on the direction of the water instead of the immediate danger of the shelves falling from the force of the churning water.
I look from the doorway to the stairs as water touches the crotch of my jeans, making odd, cold tingles run through my legs at the most ridiculous time. I begin to feel weightless, and another wave of panic hits me as I scramble onto the desk to get out of the water.
The desk starts to move as the first bookshelf falls, toppling into the next and the next like they’re all trying to get into the Guinness Book of World Records for largest falling dominoes.
I scream as the desk starts to float and move with the water. I grab the edge of the desk with one hand, still clutching my purse with the other. I scream again as water splashes my ankles. The desk starts to tilt, and before I can be thrown into the water, I grab for a fallen bookshelf and pull myself on top of it.
The desk flows out of sight.
“You gotta get back to the staircase!” Cree calls out. “I know it’s dark, but it’s not that far. I can help direct you from here!”
I look up at the sound of Cree’s voice and realize I’ve ended up almost directly below the edge of the balcony. The sudden rush of water seems to have stopped for the moment. From my vantage point at the top of the fallen stack of shelves, all I can do is stare at the water all around and try to keep myself from hyperventilating.
“Come on, Kas! Get moving!”
“But…the water! It’s all around me!” I grasp the edge of a bookcase as my knuckles go white.
“It’s not that deep! You can do it!”
“I can’t!”
“You can!”
“I can’t, Cree!” Tears well up in my eyes. “I can’t swim!”
“Shit.” Cree disappears from above, returning shortly. “Give me a second!”
Another wave of water rushes from the back door, splashing my legs. The tears begin to run down my face, and I curse myself for being too afraid of the water to continue with swim lessons when I was a kid and being too embarrassed and frightened to force myself to learn as an adult. I hold my purse to my chest, thinking of the pictures inside. I’m sure I’m going to meet the same fate.
Something hits my shoulder, and I let out a cry.
Dangling in front of my face is a rope. The end of it is looped with a pair of fancy, twisted knots.
“Kas, grab on!”
I stare at the dangling end for a moment before slipping the handle of my purse up my arm and grabbing the ropes right above the knot. The ropes are dry, but my hands still slip a little as I grasp them.
“Put your wrists through the loops,” Cree says, “and then hold the top of the knot with both hands.
“It won’t hold me!” I yell up at him.
“Yes, it will,” he says calmly. “I promise it will.”
I look up at him. I’m not sure how far the railing is from where I’m standing, but it seems so very high up. What if I can’t hold on?
“You can hold on,” Cree says as if he’s reading my thoughts. “It’s not that far.”
I slip one hand through the loop and then fiddle with my purse to make sure it’s secured before I put my other hand through the second loop. I grasp right above the knots with both hands.
“Ready?” he calls out.
“I think so.”
“There’s going to be a lot of pressure on your shoulders,” he says. “It will be a little uncomfortable at first, but it won’t be more than you can handle. When I start pulling you up, you start counting slowly. It will help.”