People instinctively sought a way out. When floodwaters came, few would sit still and wait to die. The people nearby had already begun converging on the church by instinct, an unending stream.
The hall, now full of holes, was nearly too packed for anyone else to squeeze inside. Even the roof was covered with people lying shoulder to shoulder.
In the darkness, only two flickering lights shone.
On the steps by the entrance, amid the raging wind and rain, Elder Longge sat in his wheelchair. His emaciated hand clutched the railing tightly, almost too weak to hold on. His white hair was disheveled and plastered to his face, leaving him in a wretched state.
The water level—the water level was still rising.
In less than half a minute, it had already climbed another step...
At that moment, as he watched the mighty convoy race toward them, his stern, gloomy face twitched twice, as though he had finally sighed in relief. "Rescue—rescue is here!!!"
Overjoyed cries sounded. Heads instantly surged, and the crowd inside the church began to stir once more, scrambling desperately toward the entrance no matter how the church members tried to maintain order.
Before the vehicles had even come to a complete stop, people were already jumping down from the building, floundering through waist-deep muddy water as they tried to climb into the tarp-covered truck beds.
The crowd surged like a tide.
The last remnants of order completely collapsed.
"Don't push! Don't push!" The young nun blocked the entrance, shouting herself hoarse. "Let the children get on first, let—" Before she could finish, she was shoved aside, nearly swallowed and trampled by the crowd.
An emaciated hand reached out and pulled her free.
Elder Longge.
It was hard to imagine that such strength still remained in his crippled