Rapture

The levees broke sometime around 6pm, and by the time the party started at 10 the water had reached the level of the balcony. The floor below was flooded and there was no way out, unless you swam, so we carried on with the party anyway. At some point Joan asked about the people on the floor below and we told her that they'd evacuated the previous day.
They hadn't; Dave and Mike had nipped downstairs and boarded up their door when the news had announced that the levees had broken. They'd stayed by the door, listening, until the water was knee-high and then they'd come back upstairs. We were fairly certain that the people below us had drowned.
We were two thirds the way through the spirits and had run out of party snacks altogether when Mike decided to get his wet-suit and scuba gear out and see if he could get into the flat below and check that the downstairs neighbours really were dead. I asked him why, shouting over Dave who was arguing with a pizza delivery company, and he grinned in that way I didn't like and said that he wanted to be sure that justice had been done.
Justice?
Dave put the phone down and asked me if we had a dinghy. I shook my head, and he said he'd put a raft together out of the tables; the pizza company were willing to deliver to the road, so if he could row over there and back, he'd bring food.
Mike suited up, and I finally asked him what the downstairs neighbours had done that was so bad he'd felt the need to trap them in their flat and then check that they'd drowned.
They promised a Rapture, he said, his face worryingly serious. He reminded me of the priest just before the police arrested him, his hands dripping with blood and his cassock spattered with bits of flesh and bone. They'd promised a Rapture and it hadn't happened, so he was seeing to it that they got their own personal Rapture after all. God might not have redeemed all the pure from the Earth, but he'd sent a flood, and it was undoubtedly intended for those who had tricked everyone else into believing the end was nigh.
I let him go, watching him slip backwards off the balcony into the water, and asked Dave if there was room for a second on his raft.