...then look no further.
(mild?) TW: distressing events
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Chapter 14 – Flood
Eight years ago
Water roared in the dark.
Sonic rubbed sleep from his eyes, clinging to his mother's hand as she pulled him through the village paths in a frantic, headlong run. Rain poured down in torrents around them, on them, soaking them both to the bone. Sonic shivered. So cold. He wanted his bed. His comfy blankets. His stuffed owl.
Storm clouds blotted out the stars. High winds shook the trees, pushed the two hedgehogs about, doused the lanterns that marked the walkways. Streaks of lightning sliced across the sky but did nothing to illuminate the world. Thunder rolled through the village like the pounding of drums.
Everything felt like a nightmare.
He wanted to wake up.
Why couldn't he wake up?
Water roared in the dark.
Sonic stumbled when his mother stopped running, bumped into the back of her legs. "Oh no," she gasped. He barely heard her above the rampaging wind.
He peered around her legs. It was difficult, with the dark and the heavy rain, and at first he couldn't see what was wrong. Then he realized the lower part of the village was moving. Shifting. Like the ground was marching.
No, not marching. Flooded.
A churning, roiling wall of water flowing through what had once been his hometown. The market, the school, his friends' homes, all of it gone, washed away in a relentless crush of water. It carried whole tree trunks with it, and what remained of the roofs of buildings, sweeping them down the hillside and away into the night.
All of it, just gone.
His mother tugged on his arm, started running again. "Come, Sonic!" She tried to stay calm. He could hear the panic anyway.
Where were his friends?
Where were his neighbors, his teacher, the village council?
Where was his father?
Water roared in the dark.
He stumbled. His mother scooped him up in one hurried motion and tucked him in against her shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around him.
The trees around them creaked ominously, groaning and swaying as the wind tore at them.
"Higher ground," his mother said softly, to herself. "We have to get higher."
Thunder shattered the sky. Sonic flinched.
His mother skidded to a stop. "No," she sobbed. "No, no, no!" Shouting into the wind as though she could change things with her voice, breaking down in defeat on the last syllable.
Sonic looked up.
A second torrent of water rushed down the hill ahead of them, cutting them off from higher ground, from safety. The bridge that had once spanned the narrow creek had collapsed under the weight of the water, fragments like broken bones tangled among branches and mud as they rolled downhill. No more creek. Only a raging river, fierce and hungry as it licked at its new banks and slowly wore them down.
The world was drowning.
Water roared in the dark.
And over the din, the screams of villagers trying to escape. Caught in the currents, trapped by debris, calling out for missing loved ones.
Sonic covered his ears.
His mother turned, ran back down the hill. Terrified. Searching frantically for safe haven, a way to escape. Stumbling through the dark, breath labored, as she carried her son. Back among the buildings that still stood, the bridges that held. The ghosts of their village.
One moment, she was running across a bridge with Sonic in her arms.
The next, a wall of water and branches collided with the bridge supports, and it broke apart like a child's toy. Sonic and his mother fell into the flood.
Water rushed up his nose, down his throat, blinding him and choking him as it tossed him below the surface. His mother lost her grip. He heard her scream briefly before the rapids closed over his head, and all he could hear was the rush of water and the gurgling of bubbles escaping his mouth.
His head broke the surface again, pushed up by the crush. He caught a glimpse of his mother. Eyes wide. Hand reaching desperately for him. Too far away.
Under again, slammed down by water. Thrown into detritus until the bruises grew numb. Water tugged at his legs, his arms, his quills, tossing him around like a ragged plaything. Then up, stealing another breath. Enough to gasp for help. Not enough to shout.
Hands grabbed him around the middle, hauling him free. He choked on air. Sucked it in. Wiped dirty water from his eyes and looked up.
His father held him, braced against a jumble of branches that had caught on the bones of a destroyed house. Mud caked his arms and legs, and his quills were a bedraggled mess in the rain, but he was alive. Sonic threw his arms around his father and cried.
"I've got you, Sonic." His father's voice, warm, comforting. Safe.
A cough nearby. A groan. Sonic looked down, saw his mother clinging to another branch like a lifeline in the water. She smiled weakly up at him.
Then her branch snapped.
Time froze for one horrible moment. Her face, blurred, features faded, save the memory of that last glimpse of terror.
Torn away by the rushing current and lost.
The storm swallowed his scream.
His father moved. Tucked him up against the branches, wedging him in securely. "Stay here," he said firmly.
Sonic grabbed at his father's hands in a panic. "Don't go!"
"I'm going to get her. I'll be back."
"Please, don't go!"
"I promise. I'll be right back."
Eyes locked. His father ran one strong, dirty hand over Sonic's quills.
Then he jumped in the water and swam.
Water roared in the dark.
Tears and rain blinded the young hedgehog, but his parents didn't come back.