From the left, somewhere above her. She opened her eyes and took off, beating back the branches and the dirt and the wayward debris as she called out, “Dad! Dad, can you hear me?”

  As she climbed, her breathing grew labored and heavy. Her pulse rocketing through her ears muffled the world and ruined any chance of hearing her father. After a few hundred feet, she paused, hand on her hip as she sucked in a lungful of air. She hadn’t imagined it, wasn’t going crazy. He was out there.

  She step off again, this time slower and more controlled, still working her way up in elevation, but not so quickly. She could still listen, still strain to hear his voice.

  As she neared a massive, uprooted tree, the wind shifted and once again his voice called out, only this time it wasn’t to her. It was… about her. Full of hurt and anguish. Mika called to him and broke into a near-run, skirting the roots stretching twenty feet in either direction.

  Hold on, Dad. I’m here. I’m coming.

  With one hand digging into the dirty roots to gain leverage, Mika hauled herself over the fallen tree and into an area devastated by the landslide. She blinked in shock. There, in the dirt, was her father. Only she’d never seen him so… broken.

  He hovered above the ground, half-hunched, half-curled around a bag. The sun reflected off the wetness streaking his cheeks. He was crying. Mika had never seen her father cry.

  She called to him, hands waving frantically in the air as she closed the distance. He lifted his head, confusion furrowing his brow and tipping his lips into a frown. But it didn’t matter. She barreled into him, arms out wide, and wrapped him in a hug as they both fell to the ground in a heap.

  “Dad! Dad, you found me!” She squeezed so tight, her arms ached from the effort. “You really found me.”

  “Mika?” Her father struggled to upright them both. He reached for her shoulders and pushed her back, holding her an arm’s length away as he stared, slack jawed at her face. It took a moment for reality to catch up to her father. His face transformed in slow motion from a frown to a smile so wide it split his lower lip. He crushed her to him, giant arms enveloping her in a dirty, sweat-soaked embrace.

  “Mika! You’re alive!” He pulled back. “When I found the van and the phones…”

  She wiped back a sudden onslaught of tears. “The van crashed in the quake. I think… I think we were hit by the landslide. I was thrown to the floor and blacked out.”

  Her father shook his head in disbelief. “I thought you were still in there.”

  Mika swallowed. “Almost everyone died. Only Hampton and I survived the crash.”

  Her father glanced around. “Where is she? Is she hurt? Does she need help?”

  Pain and loss welled up in Mika’s throat and she couldn’t hold it back. Tears streamed down her face and she tried to explain, but all that came out were jagged sobs.

  He pulled her back into his warm embrace. “Shh. It’s okay.” His hand stroked her hair and after a few minutes she managed to explain all she’d been through.

  It came out in bursts, accentuated by fits of crying and coughing, but at last, she finished. “I was completely turned around. I just knew I needed to head down the slope, and hoped that would be enough. I didn’t know I was so close to the van. So close to…” She broke off, unable to speak anymore.

  Her father shifted until she leaned against his chest and they stayed like that, him holding her up as she cried, until the tears dried on her cheeks and she felt some semblance of calm. “I’m proud of you, honey.”

  The words seeped deep into Mika’s heart and lingered, filling a bit of the empty hole. “I should have saved Hampton. Should have stayed awake, kept her alive.”

  “It sounds like she had internal bleeding, honey, probably on the brain. That’s what happened to Charlie, you remember him? The guy at work who rode the motorcycle?”

  Mika nodded against her father’s chest.

  “He was in that accident and refused to go to the hospital, said he was fine. That night he was talking gibberish to his girlfriend, not making any sense. He went to sleep and never woke up. Autopsy showed a massive brain bleed from the crash impact.”

  She stared at her hands. “So even if I got her off the mountain…”

  “Hampton would have died without surgery. And most of the hospitals are gone.”

  Mika sucked in a breath. “The quake was that strong?”

  “Mika—”

  Her father paused and she glanced up at him, reading the trepidation on his face. “What is it?”

  He pressed his lips together, stared off into the distance for a moment. “Port Angeles is ruined. Hospitals, the Port… We probably don’t have a house anymore.”

  She blinked. “Was the quake that bad?”

  “It wasn’t the quake. It was the tsunami.”

  “What?” Mika reeled. “What tsunami?”

  “It hit Port Angeles about a half hour after the quake subsided, a massive wall of water coming in from the Strait. Half the town was ripped out to sea, the ground disintegrated. The rest is flooded. People are taking shelter in the elementary school.”

  Mika glanced around them. She’d thought the landslide was the worst of their issues. But a massive flood? Her eyes widened as she turned back to her dad. “What about Mom? She’s in Bellevue. Did it flood? What about Seattle?”

  His gaze skated away.

  “Dad, come on.” She tugged on his sleeve. “Tell me.”

  “Based on the flooding in Port Angeles, hon, I’m guessing Seattle is gone. And Bellevue… There can’t be much left.”

  She took her dad’s hand and squeezed it, waited until he looked her in the eyes. “Dad, we have to find her. We have to find Mom.”

  When he didn’t reply, a fresh wave of tears threatened to coat her lashes, but she blinked them away, jaw locked with iron determination.

  “Mika—” Her father stood slowly and ran a hand over his face. He looked down at her with that look he had whenever he was about to let her down easy, whenever she was about to be disappointed.

  She wouldn’t let him start. “No.” She struggled to her feet. “No, we’re not going to assume Mom didn’t make it. As soon as we get off this mountain, we check on the house, see whether there’s anything to salvage and head to Bellevue. We have to find her, Dad. We have to.”

  “You don’t understand.” The shadows under her father’s eyes looked like half-moon bruises, dark purple, almost black. “The chances of finding your mother…” he trailed off. A deep set wrinkle bridged his eyebrows. “There’s going to be all sorts of rescue and recovery people on the ground. FEMA, National Guard. They probably won’t even let us in.”

  Mika’s stomach catapulted into her throat and she balled her fists at her sides. They weren’t going to abandon her to a bunch of strangers. Even if she’d left them. Even if she’d chosen those strangers over her family. Mika’s nose burned as new tears came and her throat ached as snot slid down it. “Can’t we at least try?”

  Her father released a heavy sigh and rubbed the creases from his forehead with the tips of his fingers.

  “If she is alive, she needs us,” Mika pressed.

  “Mika, she might already be—you know…” Agony crinkled the skin around her father’s eyes.

  Mika reached out and clamped a hand on her father’s arm. “You came for me, and I was alive. What if she is too, and no one is there to find her? To help her? What if she’s trapped somewhere, waiting for help that never comes?”

  Her father tilted his head to the sky, staring past her at something more than clouds.

  “Alright.” The single word filled Mika with hope. “We’ll give it a shot. We’ll go until we hit a dead end.” He paused, gave his daughter a steadfast look. “But I’m not putting you in danger. Not after all we’ve been through. I can’t risk losing you again.”

  Mika nodded and clutched her father around his solid frame, hugging him close. “We can’t give up on her, Dad. We just can’t.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CLINT

  Clint and Mika hiked out of the forest devastated by landslides and found the truck as the sun slipped behind the still-standing trees. As they piled into the vehicle, Clint stole a glance at his daughter, something he’d been doing every few minutes since he’d found her. It was a miracle, truly.

  His heart went out to the families of the other girls and the troop leaders, but Mika was alive. She’d found a way to survive through what sounded like tremendous odds. First the landslide, then the rollover, then Hampton growing ill and dying. He shook his head as he cranked the engine.

  “What?”

  He glanced at Mika. “Just amazed at how strong you are. You’re a fighter, hon.”

  Mika glanced out the passenger side window, saying nothing. Survivor’s guilt ate away at her, that much was obvious. But it wasn’t her fault the others died. In time, she would understand.

  It was slow going, making their way back through the debris toward Port Angeles. In the time it had taken Clint to find his daughter, another section of mountain had given way, rock and dirt cascading across the road and blocking their path. He backtracked, but was unable to find another way through. Forced to off-road, Clint eased his way through brush and rocks, around trees and landslide debris, until he found a road running parallel to Port Angeles. It was the long way around, but eventually, they should make it home.

  Or what was left of home, anyway.

  Mika stayed quiet and Clint’s thoughts drifted to Daphne. Mika’s conviction, her steadfast determination to find her mother, worried Clint. Daphne lived in Bellevue. If it wasn’t leveled to the ground, it was flooded, for sure. The chance Daphne survived such an onslaught was slim. The woman was resourceful, sure, but she wasn’t experienced in situations like this. Roughing it. Surviving.

  When the going got tough…

  Daphne left. Clint shoved his anger down. He still loved his wife. Always would. But it was hard to keep the resentment at bay. Hard to deal with her choice to leave instead of work it out. Maybe he’d been distant in those last few months. Focused on his job and Mika and not so much his wife at home. But she hadn’t volunteered either.

  There was so much he would say to her if she were still alive. So many things they’d left unsaid. But doubted he would ever have the chance. Daphne was most likely gone. Mika would have to deal with the loss of her mother and the loss of her friends.

  He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and sat taller in the seat as he shoved his spiraling thoughts aside and focused on the road. They found a road running north-south and finally turned toward Port Angeles. As they eased out of the tree line of the National Park, the faint glow of an electric light caught Clint’s eye. He slowed.

  To their west, the sunset painted the sky smoky orange and gray. To their east, a small building sat on the corner, a single light on outside. Mika rolled down her window. “What is that sound?”

  Clint strained to listen. “Generator, I think.” He motioned at the building. “What is that place?”

  Mika leaned forward. “I think it’s a restaurant.” She squinted into the fading light. “Duke’s Foothill Diner.” She turned with excitement. “They might have something to eat.”

  Clint cast a doubtful look at the place. “It’s been a while without power. Can’t imagine anything they have is still good.”

  “Dad. I’m starving. You’ve got to be, too. The light’s on outside and the door is open. We should check it out.”

  Clint pulled into the vacant parking lot. Any other time, he’d have passed this hole-in-the-wall and never given it a second glance. But his stomach rumbled as he reached for the door handle. Any food was better than no food at this point. He glanced at Mika. “You stay behind me. In case there’s trouble.”

  She screwed up her face. “Trouble from what?”

  He didn’t answer, just waited until she rolled her eyes and agreed to walk behind him. Clint pulled the screen door open and a bell signaled their arrival. A lone man leaned on the counter, white apron covering his front. He reached over to a small portable TV and turned the sound down as they approached. “Evening.”

  “Are you open by any chance?”

  The man smiled. “Sure are. But menu’s limited. Everything in the freezer’s gone bad and I can’t run the fryer off the generator.”

  Clint nodded and eased onto a cracked vinyl barstool opposite the man. Mika did the same. He looked the man over. Mid-50s, balding, shirt stretched tight across his belly. A tired and worn nameplate pinned to his chest read Don. “You the owner?”

  “Yep. Been here goin’ on twenty-five years. You a ranger?”

  Clint shook his head. “Work at the Port down in town.”

  The man whistled. “From the TV coverage, not much left of Port Angeles.”

  “I’m aware.” Clint glanced at his daughter. “So what’s on the menu?”

  Don patted his stomach. “I’ve got ham and turkey sandwiches, potato chips, and half an apple berry crumb pie that’s on its last legs.”

  Mika glanced at her father. “Can we have all of it?”

  Don laughed and waited for Clint to nod. “A bit of everything, coming right up.”

  As he headed toward the back, Clint stopped him. “Mind if you turn the TV back up?”

  Don reached out and turned the knob. “Afraid all the news is bad, but be my guest.”

  Clint propped his forearms on the counter and leaned closer. The screen, one of the old-school cathode-ray tube types, was barely ten inches across. Mika squeezed next to him to see. Together, they watched as a flooded out city shot from what he assumed was a drone, paraded across the screen.

  Clint swallowed as he read the ticker:

  CITY OF SEATTLE DESTROYED. FLOOD WATERS REFUSE TO RECEDE.

  A reporter’s voice cut in over the aerial footage

  “Water levels remain high in much of Seattle and Bellevue, with multiple stories still underwater in the heart of the city. Estimates place the initial tidal surge at forty feet above sea level, a tsunami of unprecedented magnitude. Government officials from FEMA to the National Guard to the military are deployed along the coast, establishing emergency shelters and aiding in rescue and recovery efforts.”

  Clint pressed his lips together. It was as bad as he feared.

  “Devastation runs from Vancouver to the California-Oregon border with hundreds of miles of coastline and millions of buildings underwater. Until the waters recede, which experts are saying could take anywhere from days to weeks, we won’t know the full extent of the damage. Government officials are asking anyone in the inundation zone to evacuate immediately. FEMA has set up white receiving tents at the edge of the flooding providing emergency medical care and transport to their main shelter now established in Ellensburg.”

  Don’s rounded shoulders blocked the TV as he set plates in front of Mika and Clint. A sandwich loaded with meat and cheese sat beside a heaping serving of potato chips. “When you’re done with these, I’ll have the pie ready. Coffee?”

  Clint nodded in appreciation. “That would be great.”

  He dug into the food, ignoring the sour taste in the back of this throat still lingering from the broadcast. Beside him, Mika sniffed. He glanced at his daughter. Red rimmed her glassy eyes and she wiped beneath her nose with the back of her hand. There wasn’t any way to sugar coat the scenes on the television. Any hope Mika had of finding her mother alive must be dashed now.

  He rubbed her back for a moment. “You should eat.”

  She snuffed again and nodded before picking up a potato chip. It crunched in her mouth as she stared vacantly at the screen. Clint forced down another bite of sandwich, meat and cheese now as flavorful as cardboard.

  “Dad!” Mika’s finger jabbed toward the TV. “Look!”

  He glanced at the screen. The drone hovered over what at first glance appeared to be one of countless streets in the business district of downtown Bellevue.

  Mika grabbed his free hand and squeezed. “Isn’t that mom’s office? The one with the green roof?”

  Clint squinted and leaned closer. “I don’t know, Mika. There have to be tons of buildings just like it.”

  “No, Dad, look!” She let his hand go to point again. “There’s the bank building two over, with the helicopter pad on top. Mom told me they put it in just for one fancy client. It’s weird because it’s got the bank logo on the pad - a diamond inside a circle.”

  He wasn’t convinced. “That could be anywhere.”

  “It’s not.” Mika’s tone bordered on anger. She stared at the screen as the reporter spoke again.

  “We’re now showing footage of Bellevue Way where many buildings suffered catastrophic damage but a few remain standing. Water in this area has begun to recede, although not as quickly as officials had hoped. Check back at our eleven o’clock broadcast when we’ll have a reporter on the ground.”

  “Now do you believe me?”

  Clint exhaled. Mika was right. That was the area of Daphne’s office building. If the green-roofed building really was hers, then she might have survived. She might still be there, hunkered down, waiting for rescue.

  He thought about all the obstacles between them and Bellevue: broken roads, landslides, floodwater. Desperate people. None of it mattered if the mother of his child was alive, waiting. Clint squeezed his daughter’s hand. “If she’s out there, sweetheart, I promise you, we’ll find a way to reach her.”

  Thank you for reading Fault Lines: Upheaval. Subscribe to Harley’s newsletter to be notified when book two in the series is released.

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