Lena took them.
The plans were faded and marked with decades of revisions. She remembered seeing the basin as a child, a broad field that filled with water in hard storms and dried into cracked mud by late summer. The city had used it as controlled temporary storage long before anybody invented the phrase *climate resilience.*
On the newest map, the basin was partly encroached upon by landscaping, a staging area, and the temporary offices of Grayline Infrastructure.
“They didn’t eliminate the floodwater,” she said quietly.
Frank looked at her.
“They gave it somebody else’s address.”
Chapter Seven: The Evacuation Road
At 5:27, Marisol Vega started the first bus.
It was not because the argument with Grayline had finally ended. It was because Dana Cho and the county road engineer had inspected an upper portion of the Harbor Point service road and confirmed that it was currently safe for emergency bus traffic. The incident commander had authorized its use, and the county had issued a lawful order to clear the access route.
Simon Bell, the security manager, had stopped insisting the road was private when the order arrived bearing more official signatures than his clipboard had room for.
He was still angry.
“If somebody gets hurt on this road, the liability is yours,” he told Vale.
“It was listed in your emergency plan,” Vale said.
“My boss is going to fire me.”
“Maybe,” Vale answered. “Right now, move your people to a safe place and let the road crew do its job.”
The heavy trucks were repositioned under supervision. Workers removed temporary barriers. Marisol watched the whole operation through a rain-streaked windshield, checking a route that her safety escort confirmed was clear and passable.
The people in the bus did not cheer when it moved. Most were too tired or too frightened. A few whispered prayers. One man stared at the rows of half-built Harbor Point townhouses as if he were seeing a strange country on the other side of a fence.
“They’re nice,” he said to Loretta Mercer, seated across from him. “Wonder what one costs.”
Loretta looked at the perfect balconies and the floodwater licking their unfinished foundations.
