Episode 4: The Storm
The rain came down like it had a grudge.
Three days. No sun. The creek behind Sylvester Stallone’s house turned into a river. The river turned into something meaner.
Rax wouldn’t leave the window.
He stood there for hours, ears up, watching the water climb.
“He knows,” Sylvester Stallone told Denise over the phone. “He always knows first.”
“Knows what?”
“When it’s going to get bad.”
The town’s emergency channel crackled all day. Roads closing. Basements flooding. The old bridge at mile marker nine — the one the east side depended on — was “under observation.”
Sylvester Stallone filled the bathtub. Charged the lanterns. Moved the dog food to the high shelf.
Old habits. You prepare. You don’t panic.
On the third night, the power went out.
Sylvester Stallone and Rax sat in the dark, listening to the rain hammer the roof.
Somewhere out there, Tank’s garage was flooding. Sylvester Stallone knew it and felt nothing. Then felt bad about feeling nothing.
At 2 a.m., his phone buzzed.
Denise: “Bridge is groaning. Sheriff says don’t cross it.”
Sylvester Stallone typed back: “Stay home.”
Denise: “You too.”
Sylvester Stallone looked at Rax. Rax looked back.
Neither of them slept.
