Sea Haven 01 - Water Bound

arsonist sprayed a generous splash over the bushes leading to the first ring of protection of Rikki’s house, the sagebrush. Pratt saturated several areas as he raced around the outer perimeter of her personal yard. Shedding his pack, he thrust it out of the way near the road leading down to the pond and donned his flame-throwing pack.
    Lev took aim at the man’s temple. Before he could pull the trigger, Pratt stumbled on a large tree limb that lay in his path and sprawled onto the ground, taking him out of Lev’s sight. Flame burst orange red, igniting the gases. The world around them exploded. The gas on the trees around Lev ignited, flames leaping into the air until he could see nothing else. Heat seared him. Oxygen was gone, feeding the hungry flames, pouring into the fire so that he was left gasping. He dropped to the ground to try to find a way to breathe.
    I’m trapped.
    Rikki was ready for just that moment. The sky opened up just over the forest and small slope where Pratt had so carefully prepared his assault. She had concentrated the rain in the exact area where the arsonist had set his fuel. Water slammed into Lev, drenching him, plastering his hair to his head, running in rivulets down his neck. The roar that had surrounded him as the fire sprang to life, so loud just seconds before, turned to the hiss of a snake.
    There didn’t seem to be individual raindrops, but buckets of water pouring over the trees and his head.
    The rain fell in two concentrated places that Lev could tell. It was difficult to see through the thick gray veil, but water poured into the irrigation pond, already filled to capacity and now running over its banks, and onto the trees and small valley. The valley was a funnel, catching the water running off the slope and sending it rushing like a river toward the road and pond. Water bubbled from underground, adding to the sudden supply, which was rising fast and furious.
    293

    Lev crawled forward on his hands and knees through the trees to the edge of the forest. He couldn’t get a good shot at the arsonist and he didn’t want to tip him off as to his presence, so he continued to move forward through smoldering brush. Pratt struggled to get to his feet, but was knocked back to the ground by the tumbling limb of a large broken branch. He rolled, seemed to get tangled for a moment and then fought to gain his feet.
    Water swirled around his ankles, rising fast, pouring now from the sprinkler systems throughout the farm. Water came off the roof of Rikki’s house, running down the gutters to the channels leading to the ditches. The entire area had been designed to preserve water. Every ditch led to the main funnel, which Pratt seemed caught in. He gave a halfhearted spray again with his flamethrower, but he knew it was impossible.
    Lev used his elbows to propel himself through the mud and grass to work his way around to get in position to take a shot. Pratt suddenly stiffened, his head whipping around, looking up the slope toward Rikki’s house.
    She stood at the top of the hill, her face upward, toward the sky, hands graceful as she conducted her wild symphony. The rain responded to her commands and every third beat, her right hand would move upward, palm up. She looked like an ancient priestess worshiping the rain goddess. Lev tried to call out to her, to warn her, but thunder cracked and the wind whipped the sound of his voice away. Pratt tossed aside the flamethrower’s trigger and pulled a gun.
    Without hesitation, Lev fired several shots, knowing the angle was wrong, but all he cared about was distracting the man away from Rikki. He leapt to his feet and ran toward the arsonist, firing as he did so. Pratt turned to face the immediate threat, spitting bullets at Lev. He was just as blind, trying to see through the pouring rain to the shadowy figure coming at him.
    Unable to see Lev, he half turned and fired at Rikki. The water swirled around his knees now.
    Lev skidded to a halt as he realized he was about to run right into that gathering force of water. He slammed a new clip into his gun and knelt, trying to get a clear shot, firing to draw Pratt’s attention back to him.
    Pratt was in trouble and knew it. He fired several times at Lev and then abandoned every attempt at killing, trading his need for retribution for survival. The water crept up his thighs, and now the current was strong, tugging and pulling, driving him toward the pond. He was strapped into his heavy pack and