Tempest (#1 Destroyers Series) (16 page)

“Some Tempests have delayed going in the
past. One guy fled to Alaska for three weeks when it was his time.
Then a woman locked herself in her basement back in the seventies
when her name came up. Neither of them died or suffered injury, but
both of those times, they found that they couldn't stay away from
the ocean for long. The urge to go there got to be too strong after
a couple of weeks, and finally they both gave in. Curiously, while
they were hiding, something weird happened. No other Tempests in
other parts of the world could transform when they jumped--or got
pushed--in the water. It was as if the entire cycle got locked
up."

“Really?” Gary asked. He shot a glance back
at Janelle. “Andrina never told me that. Of course, I never really
wanted to talk to her.”

Janelle straightened up in her seat, unsure
if she felt relieved or more terrified. She didn't feel any urge to
go down and throw herself in the ocean. In fact, the thought
horrified her. But would that change if she ran and stayed
away?

And if Mr. Deville was right, could she save
other Tempests from this fate by running, if she found some way to
fight any urges to jump in the water? If the ocean turned into a
siren song, Gary could help her. Hold her back. Prevent her from
coming back here, at least until the season had passed. With his
help, she might escape the fate the Elder Council had inflicted on
her.

Gary gave her another look. His hazel eyes
were wide with hope. They spoke volumes.
We'll figure something
out,
they said.

Mr. Deville interrupted her thoughts. “Do you
have a phone on you? You should call your dad to let him know
you’re safe."

Janelle reached into her pocket. She could
pretend to call him and her teacher wouldn’t know the
difference.

Her hand closed on the wad of bills and the
picture of her mom, but nothing else.

Gulping, Janelle searched her pockets again
and lifted herself off the seat to make sure she hadn’t sat on it.
Nope. It wasn’t under the copy of
Surge
or on the floor. And
she hadn’t left it at home—she’d shoved it in her pocket. It had
probably gotten lost—or crushed with her luck—during the accident.
Now she’d have to find a pay phone to call Leslie, if they even
made those things anymore. There was no doubt her friend was
wondering what her message even meant.

“It’s gone. My phone, I mean.” Janelle let
out a long sigh, leaning back onto the seat. “Just my luck. My
whole life’s falling apart at the seams.”

“You can just meet your dad at the airport
and let him know you lost it. I’m sure he’ll count running into
Andrina as a good excuse.” Mr. Deville braked behind a slow-moving
Cadillac. “I hope it wasn’t one of those real expensive ones that
brushes your teeth and keeps your appointments for you.”

“It was. Birthday present,” Janelle said.

* * * * *

The Orlando airport dwarfed the one in Flint,
hands down. But maybe that was good. That meant it had to have a
flight back to Michigan, and soon. And there’d be plenty of room to
blend in if someone came hunting for them.

Mr. Deville got out of the car and started to
make his way across the lot. “I’ll come in with you in case
Andrina’s sent anyone this way. She has lots of connections,
probably more than even the Elder Council knows. They’re sure to
check the airports.”

“Thanks,” Janelle said, though she really
wanted to curse. She shot a glance at Gary. He grimaced at her. Her
teacher would discover their half-truth in minutes.

She followed him past rows of cars, under
lights, and into the enormous terminal building. People jostled
past them. The scents of coffee and leather luggage filled the air.
Her teacher waved them through crowds of sleepy early-morning
flyers and to a large glowing billboard that listed all the flights
for the next several hours.

Gary tapped Janelle’s arm and pointed to one
near the top. A flight would be leaving for Flint, Michigan in
fifteen minutes.

Janelle shook her head. No way they’d buy
tickets and get through airport security in time. But one farther
down listed another flight to Flint at seven. That one would have
to work.

“Ah! This must be the one your father’s
bought tickets for.” Mr. Deville tapped the screen. Just two slots
above the second Flint flight, green text read
Nassau, Bahamas.
4:45 a.m on time.

Janelle's stomach turned. “That’s probably
it,” she said, mouth dry. Had she stayed home, her dad would’ve
booked that flight.

“He might be waiting around here somewhere.”
Her teacher surveyed the room. “Probably by the gate. Let’s go and
we’ll check for him.”

“Maybe we should split up,” Gary said. “He
could be hanging out anywhere. We’ll go check by the snack bars.
That’s where I’d rather sit and wait for someone.”

Mr. Deville rubbed a hand over his thin hair.
“You sure? What if you run into trouble?”

Janelle looked around at the other travelers.
Men in business suits strolled past with cups of coffee. A woman
sat back in a chair, snoring. Not dangerous. “Do Tempests still
have their powers this far from the coast? And couldn’t we yell for
security?”

“They’re nowhere near as strong here.” Mr.
Deville studied a nearby café. “You’re right. We ought to split up,
but meet me right back here in half an hour, no later. What does
your dad look like?”

Janelle told him, keeping her description as
vague as she could. Mr. Deville nodded and headed for the gates. He
vanished around a corner and didn’t return.

“Dumb idea, Janelle. We should’ve given him a
false description,” Gary said, letting his hands slap on his jeans.
“What if your dad really is here? It’s totally possible he’d expect
you to get a flight."

Janelle sighed. “You’re a jerk. You know
that?” A right jerk, but still a jerk. "And besides, I'm a terrible
liar. He'd see through that."

“You’d be a jerk, too, if someone made you
kill people two weeks ago.”

“Well, your guardian wants to turn me into
the worst hurricane ever. So I think I win.”

Gary shut up. He couldn’t argue with that,
could he? But his gaze flicked over to the ticket counter and back
to her. Like something was way wrong. “Speaking of her--”

He leapt at her and grabbed her hand, dodging
behind the billboard like someone was shooting at them.

“What—” she started.

Gary locked his fingers inside of hers.
“Shhh!”

A tingle ran up Janelle’s arm, but stopped
cold. A woman in a gray business suit stood at the ticket counter
with a young guy in sunglasses. It was Andrina and Kevin. Somehow,
they had figured out which airport to come to.

“Okay,” she said in a squeaky voice,
squashing up against Gary.

The glowing board blocked the Tempest High
Leader from view. How? Had they been followed? She hadn't seen any
trace of the black van following them once they'd left Palm Grove,
but Andrina might have figured out they were headed to an airport
and made a lucky guess.

Seconds passed. Gary’s breath blew against
the side of her neck as he whispered in her ear. “She’s gonna kill
me for punching her. See what they’re doing. You’re closer.”

Janelle held her breath and leaned past the
edge of the board as slow as she could.

Kevin left the counter, a plane ticket in his
hands. He stared down at a small black object Andrina held out to
him as she pointed him down the hall like a mother sending a kid to
his room. Kevin made for the gates as if he was going to miss his
flight in less than two minutes.

A pit formed in Janelle’s stomach as she
remembered. Mr. Deville had gone that way. Even if Kevin didn’t try
to hurt him, it would alert him that they were here. Andrina would
start looking for her. Gary.

Would she kill him?

“Kevin’s going to catch a flight. Andrina’s
still out there,” she said, the muscles in her legs tight and ready
to move. Her chest grew tight at the thought of losing Gary.

Andrina turned slowly in a circle, taking in
the plaza as if she could smell them nearby. Like a shark ready to
ram its prey.

Janelle pulled back, wishing she were back
with her father, no matter what the cost. The second she heard
those high heels, she’d book and scream for security at the top of
her lungs. It was the best chance she had. Then, she'd call her dad
and apologize. If she didn't, his last memories of her would be
tonight's, or worse--on television in her other form that she dared
not imagine.

But the footfalls never came. A minute later,
a gray blur moved past them and down the main hall. Andrina,
probably hoping to catch them at the entrance.

Janelle let out a long breath and made a
mental note to herself not to go near the front of the airport.
“How’d she know we were coming here?”

Gary shrugged, peeling himself from the
board. The color slowly returned to his face. “Well, this is the
most likely airport we’d go to. We’ve got to hide somewhere before
she comes back.”

“Good point. Also, I'm wondering if I should
go and call--” Janelle made for the stores, but stopped.

Gary still held her hand. Tight.

He released it and swallowed, red replacing
the paleness of his face. Gary turned away and waved her to the
closest souvenir shop, where racks of T-shirts waited inside.

She dodged between souvenirs and magazines,
making her way as far back as she could. Janelle's hand was
tingling, and this time, it couldn't possibly have anything to do
with the ocean. “Mr. Deville’s going to get suspicious if we’re not
waiting for him out there,” she blurted, noticing how Gary was
looking away from her and shifting through a rack of shirts.
"Gary?" Her chest constricted, but at last he turned to face her.
It was enough to show the last of the blush creeping out of his
cheeks, and enough for the invisible straps to loosen from her
lungs.

“We’ll have to get away from him eventually
if we want to catch a flight without ,” Gary said, gripping the
magazine rack. He coughed, but it was a fake.

"Good idea." She suppressed her own cough. He
had only looked away from her to hide his blush. She let the
thought comfort her, and turned her mind to other things. They
couldn’t stand in here for the next six hours. A guy with bright
blue streaks in his hair sat behind the counter, and he glared at
them like they were shoplifting or somewhere near thinking about
it. “Let’s buy new clothes and get changed. It’ll help throw
Andrina off when we’re out there. It'll be safer to get our tickets
after that.”

Gary nodded, mute. He seemed lost in an ocean
of his own thoughts. Now, however, wasn't the time to ask about it.
Until they were on a plane, any conversation about what he was
feeling would have to wait.

Janelle sifted through the shirts, searching
for one that wasn’t gray like Gary’s. At last she settled on a red
tee that read
Florida
across the front. “Here.”

Gary seemed to surface as he held up the
shirt and grimaced. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“What?”
Oh, duh
. The shirt had to
remind him of what he’d done, of the horror he'd endured a week
ago. “Oh. Sorry.” The apology felt like it fell on its face. She
went through the shirts again, trying to salvage the situation.
“But they all say ‘Florida’ on them.”

“I guess you have a point.” Gary let the red
bundle hang against his side in defeat. “It's a 'Florida' shirt,
then.”

Janelle picked out a pink shirt and cap. She
couldn’t blow this now. “I’ll suffer too. I hate pink.”

Gary gave her a small smile, but it might as
well have been a full-fledged grin with the warmth it made her
feel.

After paying, she and Gary bolted down to the
bathrooms to get changed. Janelle pulled the pink shirt on over her
old one and wrestled her hair back into a messy ponytail and pulled
it through the back of the pink hat. The girl staring back looked
like a middle school student, not a high school Honor Society
member, and it didn't even bother her. Now, to go out and call her
dad and buy a plane ticket back to Flint. She'd at least let him
know she was going to be safe. He deserved that much. As for
letting him take her to the ocean…no. Unless there was some dire
reason she had to do it--and Mr. Deville hadn't given her
one--turning into a deadly force of nature was out.

No other Tempests can change until I do.

That made dozens of hurricanes that couldn't
slam into coastal cities or slaughter hundreds.

There could be no more Andrinas or Kevins or
Camellias.

Countless people would be spared if she ran
away and found a way to keep her distance from the ocean.

She had every reason
not
to
transform.

And yet, a little spot of tension inside
nibbled at her, refusing to die no matter how many words she threw
at it.

Gary waited over by a drink machine, pressing
himself against the wall. She almost hadn’t recognized him in the
red shirt. “Now let’s lay low ‘til our flight leaves."

“Too risky.” Janelle gazed down the hall.
Andrina could come back any minute. Even in this huge airport,
she’d spot them before the seven a.m. Flint flight. They also still
had Mr. Deville to worry about, as much as she felt bad about
abandoning him with no explanation. “Let’s take the first flight
out of here, period. We’ll worry about Flint later. I’ve got eight
hundred, remember?”

Gary shrugged. “But we’ll have a lot less
after we take our flight. Whatever it is.”

“Come on.”

The line by the ticket counter was empty now
at this hour. Janelle drained her bank account on a pair of tickets
on a red-eye flight to Las Vegas. “Hope you don’t mind sand and
cactuses,” she said to Gary. "From there, we'll fly to Leslie. I
think I'll call my dad once we're away from here."