Free From Glowing Embers by Emilie Richards Page A

Roads flood. I get anyway.”
    Gray nodded, slamming the door and opening the one behind it for Jody. The driver came around to the back of the van, and together he and Gray threw the luggage in. Even though the roadway was covered by an overhang, both men were wet from windblown rain when they had finished.
    “We were about to give up on finding a ride,” Gray told the driver when he was inside, sitting beside him, and the van was sloshing along the airport road.
    “Cab stop, but van go. Cab flood. Not so high.”
    Gray peered through the windshield. He hoped the man knew exactly where he was going, because the rain was so dense that it would take more than the ordinary five senses to ensure a successful trip.
    “Do you think it’s gotten to hurricane status yet?” Gray asked softly enough that Jody wouldn’t hear above the rain.
    “Hurricane now. Sit off coast like sneaky cat.”
    “Will my mommy be able to get a plane tomorrow?” Jody asked, leaning forward in her seat.
    “Honolulu’s called the crossroads of the Pacific,” Gray reassured her. “Planes will start flying again just as soon as the storm passes.” He turned and gave her an encouraging smile. “I’ve got a friend with a house near Diamond Head. You can go there with me tomorrow and wait until your mom comes.”
    “She’s coming tomorrow,” Jody said.
    “I’m sure you’re right,” he said, though he wasn’t sure at all.
    The streets were almost deserted. From what Gray could see, the islanders had holed up for the duration of the storm. Only an occasional car braved the flooding roads, and Gray imagined they were filled with people who were trying to get to shelter. He wondered if Julianna and Dillon had made it to their hotel.
    His thoughts were interrupted by an unbroken stream of melodic phrases so fluent and rapid that Gray decided the van driver must be a professional orator in his native language.
    “Trouble,” the driver said succinctly in English.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Cab trouble.” The driver began to inch over to the side of the road.
    At first Gray thought their van was having difficulty getting through the streets. Then, in between the rapid beating of the windshield wipers, he saw a taxi nose down in the roadside ditch, front wheels and fender lost to view.
    “Cabdriver in hurry.”
    Gray imagined he was right. Anyone would be in a hurry to get off these roads. The cabbie had probably gone too fast and lost control. “Are you going to stop and help?”
    The driver nodded, parking ten yards behind the wreck. When he started to get out, Gray opened his door, too. “Not necessary,” the driver told Gray.
    “I want to.”
    The man nodded again and jumped down into the water at his feet. Gray followed.
    He had never been outside in rain like this. Blinding in its intensity, it felt like solid sheets of water pouring over him. He was soaked immediately. The only compensation was that as yet there was no thunder or lightning, but he doubted that would last.
    The cabdriver rolled down his window when they approached. He was holding a handkerchief to his head as if he’d been cut. “Boy, am I glad to see you. I thought I was going to float away.”
    Gray peered in. The cab was empty, except for the driver. “You didn’t have any passengers?”
    “They took off a minute ago.” He pointed down the road. “My radio went out when we crashed, so I couldn’t call in our location. They started getting worried when no cars came by. I told them to wait, but the man wanted to go for help, and the lady was scared to wait here, so she went with him.”
    “Are you all right?”
    “I’ll be fine. I cracked my head on the steering wheel, but not hard enough to black out. I decided to wait here, unless the water in this ditch got any higher.” He pointed to the temporary river surging past the cab’s tires.
    “You come now.” The van driver opened the back door of the cab and motioned for the cabbie to crawl over the