"Maybe she'll sell us the farm for the price of the fuel she wasted!"
The largest farmer laughed.
Then looked toward the young woman.
"Your daddy would roll over in his grave."
She stopped what she was doing.
The words struck harder than the others.
For a moment, she stared at him.
Then she looked toward the northern forest.
The distant water sound had changed.
It was deeper now.
Less like a stream.
More like a heavy vehicle moving across rough ground.
She looked toward the former engineer standing farther back.
He was already speaking into his radio.
The young farmer turned toward the men.
"You need to move away from that bank."
The largest farmer laughed.
"Now you're giving orders?"
She pointed toward the closed road.
"The area is being cleared."
He looked toward the old gate.
Then back at her.
"All I see is a woman ruining her father's harvest."
The young farmer felt fear rising.
But she kept her voice steady.
"There's a problem at the upper reservoir."
The man waved dismissively.
"We've heard your stories."
The third farmer looked toward the trees.
For several seconds, he seemed increasingly uncomfortable.
Then he asked.
"Has anyone checked the northern berm?"
The largest farmer turned sharply.
"Not you too."
The young woman looked toward the quiet man.
"There's seepage. Emergency management is responding."
The third farmer swallowed.
Then looked toward the forest again.
A sound came from somewhere beyond the trees.
Low.
Heavy.
And unfamiliar.
The largest farmer stopped laughing.
For a moment, all four stood still.
Then the first blackbirds rose from the forest.
The warning bell hung beside the gate because her father had refused to remove it.
He'd installed a new rope after the old one rotted, even though the bell hadn't been used during a genuine emergency for decades.
The young farmer remembered teasing him about it.
He'd smiled and said that electricity sometimes failed precisely when people needed it most.
Now she reached for the rope.
The first sharp clang cut through the air.
The second echoed across the wetland.
By the third, the distant rumble had grown louder.
The third farmer stepped toward the road.
Then stopped.
Beyond the tree line, several deer appeared, running across the low ground.