Chapter 1: The Parking Space
“Get out of my way! I’m parking HERE!”
Karen Whitmore’s voice cut through the quiet suburban street just before the front corner of her dark SUV slammed into the red fire hydrant.
The impact was brutal.
Metal cracked against metal. The hydrant bent sharply at its base, and for half a second everything seemed to stop.
Then the water erupted.
A powerful jet shot upward, exploding across the sidewalk and splashing over Karen’s windshield, hood, and the carefully trimmed lawn beside the street. Water raced into the gutter and spread across the pavement.
Karen froze behind the wheel.
Across the driveway, Daniel Mercer dropped the box he had been carrying.
He stared at the broken hydrant.
Then at Karen.
“You just smashed a fire hydrant!”
Karen shoved open her door and stepped halfway out. Her bright pink blouse was already soaked, her shoulder-length dirty-blonde hair clung to her cheeks, and her oversized gold hoop earrings swung against her neck.
“Don’t you dare blame me!” she shouted. “That thing was blocking my parking spot!”
Daniel stared at her as though he had not heard correctly.
“That’s city property.”
“It was in MY space!”
“There is no parking space there.”
Karen pointed angrily toward the curb.
“There should be!”
Daniel looked toward the geyser of water.
“You’re wasting thousands of gallons.”
For the first time, Karen glanced at what she had done.
The hydrant was no longer standing straight.
Water was pouring into the street.
Her SUV’s front bumper hung crookedly.
And suddenly the thing she had been angry about—one empty stretch of curb—looked very small.
But Karen was not ready to admit that.
She slammed the door and climbed back into the SUV.
Daniel stepped toward her.
“Turn the engine off.”
Karen ignored him.
She put the SUV into reverse.
Daniel moved aside.
The tires rolled backward through the spreading water.
Then something beneath the pavement made a deep, unnatural groaning sound.
Karen stopped.
Daniel looked down.
The pavement near the hydrant trembled slightly.
Neither of them spoke.
Then a thin stream of muddy water began bubbling up from a crack several feet away.
And this time, neither one was looking at Karen.
They were looking at the street.
