Tempest (#1 Destroyers Series) (5 page)

Janelle turned to watch her go. What had
that
mood swing been about? Had she said something to cause
it?

Now wasn't the time to dwell on it. She took
a deep breath, making her heart rate slow back down to semi-normal,
as she crossed the threshold to the other side of the room.

Vortex Guy sat up in bed, stabbing at a
steaming tray of hospital food with a plastic fork. Locks of black
hair hung in his tanned face which must have spent a lot of time in
the sun. He seemed like the kind of guy that would either join a
garage band or hit the waves with a surfboard, definitely not the
class jacket wearing type her dad approved of. No wonder he hadn’t
been crazy about bringing her here.

He didn't look up at her as she approached.
Her chest tightened, but she pressed on.

“Uh…hi.” Janelle crept over and set the bear
down on his bedside table, wedging it between the phone and the
lamp. She’d rehearsed her questions for hours this morning. Now
they’d abandoned her. Gone. “I'm the one who found you in the
parking lot yesterday, but I’m not sure if you remember me. My
dad's Lucas Duvall. He came up right before I did.”

He took a bite of his food and winced, like
it was covered in mold or something. “Lucas? Yeah, he came up a few
minutes before my guardian did.” Venom filled his voice at the word
guardian,
so much that it made her back into the wall. But
then his voice softened. “You must be Janelle.” He stopped impaling
the carrots and brushed the hair from his face. He had a deep pair
of hazel eyes that made her feel funny, in a way that had nothing
to do with the events of the past two days.

Janelle sat and sank back into the cushion of
the seat, face burning. Why did she have to blush
now?
This
was uncomfortable enough.

Vortex Guy pushed his food away. She didn’t
blame him, because it didn’t look that good. “Just moved here?” he
asked.

Janelle’s shoulders sagged. The words came
easier now that he was asking the questions. Maybe this wouldn’t be
a disaster after all. “Yeah. My dad must’ve told you. I guess he
thought I wasn’t mature enough to tell you that myself.”

A pause as Vortex Guy stared down at his
hands. “So you live in Palm Grove? Right near the beach?” He
smiled, but she couldn't miss the strain in it.

"Yes." She had to get to the point before
anyone else came back, like that scary bipolar woman. So she nodded
and asked, “What’s your name, anyway?”

He grimaced as if the carrots hadn’t agreed
with him. “You’ll laugh and make fun of me like the whole hospital
has this morning. I really don't need any more of that.”

“Unless it’s Ebenezer or something, I won’t.”
Even then, she wouldn't. Who would sit there and make fun of
someone lying in a hospital bed?

He looked down at the sheets again and
muttered something.

“What did you say?”

He stared at her, suddenly intense. “Gary. My
name’s Gary. Go ahead.”

Gary. Okay. It was another creepy thing she
could add to the list of creepy things that had happened since
moving here. A shudder swept through her body, and Janelle cursed
herself for letting this get to her. “That’s not a bad name. And
it’s common, too, so that’s probably why they picked it for that
storm.” The knot in her stomach loosened as she listened to her own
words. “I went to middle school with a kid named Curtis. And when
Hurricane Curtis happened, everybody picked on him for a week.”

Gary gave a weak smile. “Thanks. Actually my
full name’s Gareth, but nobody calls me that. I'm glad, too. Sounds
like a soap opera name.”

Janelle listened to a squeaky cart rolling
past in the hall. She picked at a sliver on the armrest and tried
to swallow over the dry lump in her throat. Now came the hard part.
“When I was pulling you up off the ground yesterday, I saw
something on your arm. A mark.” Janelle leaned forward as Gary’s
eyes widened. He knew something was up. “Like this.” She stood and
rolled up her left sleeve, feeling oddly exposed.

“Oh.” He glanced down again.

That’s it? Oh?
Janelle sat, letting
out a breath. “Isn’t it weird that two people have the exact same
one and in the exact same place? I grew up thinking this was a
fluke, but I don’t think so now. I bet you know something more
about it. Is it a family trait or something? A gene?"

"No. We definitely don't look related."

"Then what do you think it is?" She let her
sleeve fall back down, glad for its cover.

Gary’s mouth twitched.

Spit it out,
she thought, heart
pounding.
Come on.

Instead, he pulled the blankets over himself.
“I’m feeling really whipped right now. I haven’t fully got my
energy back and I’ve got to snooze again. Thanks for the bear.” He
settled down with a rustling sound and went silent.

Janelle’s hopes hit the ground with a
sickening
thud.

“Gary?”

He didn’t answer.

“Gary! Come on! You know something.”

Still nothing.

She reached out and shook him on the arm. His
whole body swayed on the bed, but he refused to say a word. Janelle
stood next to him and waited, holding her breath as she watched the
second hand on the clock tick on the wall. Gary kept breathing
heavily, pretending he was asleep.

She had come all this way for nothing.
Whatever window had opened between them had slammed shut, thanks to
this mark on her arm.

Stomach heavy, she rose and skulked out of
the room. The sound of ringing phones and beeping equipment faded
behind her as she walked into the visitor’s lounge, dragging her
feet.

“Anything exciting happen?” Her father tossed
a science magazine back to the table. It landed facedown next to a
kids’ puzzle.

“No. He didn’t talk long.” Janelle raised her
chin. There was no use in letting him see her disappointment. It
would only earn her a lecture on letting her emotions get out of
control again. But maybe, she could think about this for a bit, and
go back and force some answers out of Gary a bit later. “Can I go
say goodbye to him after we ask about the volunteering thing?”

Her dad opened his mouth to say
something—probably a no with her luck—but then his gaze floated out
to the hallway and he closed it, blanching. The light in his eyes
vanished as if the sun itself had hidden behind a cloud.

The tall blonde woman stood at the corner,
talking to a young man in sunglasses who breathed heavily as if
he'd just run up all seven flights of the hospital's stairs. She
tugged on the guy’s sleeve, pointing towards Gary’s room. The two
of them set off down the hallway Janelle had vacated a minute
before. If she didn't know better, it looked like they were rushing
to intercept someone.

Her father stood and took her arm, leaving no
space for arguments. “Come on, Janelle. We’re leaving. Now.”

All Janelle could do was think about what had
happened earlier as she put up her dolphin posters that night. Her
dad had driven them back from the hospital way over the speed
limit, and would've gotten the first ticket in his life if a cop
had been anywhere around. And he, Mr. Careful, had blown through a
red light in the suburb. She’d asked him why he was going so fast,
he’d said that something wasn’t agreeing with him and left it at
that. But she knew better.

She couldn't deny it anymore or try to make
up rational explanations that didn't cover anything. Her father's
driving and weird behavior had everything to do with that woman,
Gary, her birthmark, and maybe even the storm itself. Obviously,
she was too young and immature to know the truth behind any of it,
and she couldn't hold in her irritation anymore.

Janelle went to work putting her clothes
away, strangling shorts and socks as she shoved them in her
drawers. Well, she could ask her dad about all this stuff again,
and maybe, just maybe, he'd finally open up. He almost had while
the storm was raging over their house, so why wasn't he now?

The smell of coffee told her he was in the
kitchen. She rushed after him and into the scent of coffee. Her dad
always brewed it whenever he stayed up late for online gaming.

“Dad,” she said before he had a chance to
turn away from the coffeemaker. “Got any idea what that water
vortex was yesterday? A little weird, wasn’t it?”

At first, only the hum of the fridge filled
the air. Her father stiffened and gave one of his little smiles.
But this one looked stiff, forced. “I’ve got no idea, honey. Why
don’t you finish unpacking tonight? We have a lot to do tomorrow.
Plus, I’ll tell you about the high school."

Thud.
Again.

“Why are you changing the subject?” Janelle
backed against the table as he walked past her and back into his
study, struggling to hold her voice level. "I want some answers,
Dad."

He shut the door without a word, escaping her
questions. Silence fell.

A hair fell into her face and tickled her
cheek. Janelle squeezed the back of a chair until her palms hurt
and imagined shoving it across the room. No. Tantrums were for
babies, and she couldn’t throw one with her father around.
Control yourself
, he’d say.

Janelle released her death grip on the chair.
She needed to take control of the situation and dig up some answers
herself, and there was one last place to turn: the Internet. The
computers were the first things her dad had hooked up when the
power came back on. He couldn’t breathe without the things.

Janelle poured herself her nightly glass of
orange juice, took a sip, and made her way down the hall. Her dad’s
voice floated out through the study door. Now he was on the phone
instead of gaming like he usually did. He’d been on the phone more
than Leslie in the past two days.

Normally, she'd walk past without slowing
down. But now it was time for dishonest tactics.

She pressed her ear to the door, taking in
her father's low voice.

“I…I can’t do it. I tried, but I can't tell
her. I remember what it did to me, so I’m going to have to rely on
you, Deon. Besides, I have three weeks before I start my new job
and this might do us some good. Yes, go ahead and get the yacht
ready.” A pause. “The tenth? That’s the closest? What about her
school? We’re looking at up to a two-week absence here. Oh, well. I
guess you’re right. It’s now or never.”

He was about to spill all the answers she
needed. Janelle readjusted her position, but a floorboard
creaked.

Her father lowered his voice down to a dim
mumble. She grit her teeth in frustration. “Crap,” she muttered,
pushing her ear against the smooth wood of the door.

Nothing. What was he doing in
there—whispering? Trying to do sign language over the phone? Or
maybe he’d just plain hung up so she couldn’t hear his top secret
conversation.

Steadying her glass of orange juice, Janelle
made her way to her room and plopped down in her computer chair.
Her father had said something about taking her out of school, so
maybe then, she’d hear about whatever was going on. Maybe it was
good if it involved a yacht and taking a trip away.

I tried, but I can't tell her.

Or maybe not. Those words kept repeating
themselves in her head.

There was nothing she could do about it now
except stick with her original plan.

She typed
hurricane
in the search
engine and clicked on the first article that came up.
Hurricane
Andrina strikes Texas coast, hundreds feared dead in massive storm
surge
. A huge picture of the Category 5 monster filled the top
half of the screen, and Janelle found herself digging her toes into
the carpet. Something about the dark, pitiless eye sent a chill
down her spine. It reminded her of something, and she wasn't sure
what.

Janelle skimmed the long article. Andrina had
spawned sixty-eight tornadoes, but no people had come out of them.
That didn’t help any. Next.
Hurricane Kevin ravages Florida
Panhandle just 2 months after Curtis.
No reports of people
materializing out of nowhere. Another.
Evacuations under way as
Joey bears down on SC coast
. Still no help.

Several news stories later, she sighed and
typed
people appearing in hurricanes
. Zip. She reworded the
search at least a dozen more times. Nada. Three hours later, she
rubbed her burning eyes, turned the computer off, and went to
bed.

* * * * *

“I’ve got great news and not-so-great news.
Have a seat.”

Janelle stopped in the kitchen doorway the
next morning and stared hard at her father as he wiped off his
glasses. She raised her heavy eyelids. This might have to do with
his secret phone conversation from last night. Maybe the planets
had aligned and he was going to tell her something. After all her
tossing and turning last night, she needed it.

“Good news first.” She pulled up a squeaky
chair and poured herself some Magic Crunch, heart pounding with
excitement and nerves at the same time. What was the bad news?
Whatever he didn't want to tell her about?

“I was talking on the phone last night with
an old buddy of mine.” Her father stabbed his cereal with his
spoon. “And I’ve booked us a trip to the Bahamas. We’re leaving on
September tenth and we’ll be gone for two weeks. I know that’s
right after school starts, but I'm sure you won’t have any trouble
catching up on your work ahead of time.” He wiped his glasses with
more fervor. “I figured we could take this once-in-a-lifetime
opportunity to enjoy a real vacation.”

She stared hard at him. Bahamas? Them?
“That’s…that’s awesome!” A surge of excitement welled up through
her body and sent warmth down her spine. But then she remembered
that there was a thing called homework she’d have to deal with. And
she’d be going with her
dad.
No Leslie. No friends. The
bubble of happiness burst. “But what about my classes? I’ve got
Accelerated Geography and Advanced Language Arts this year. I don’t
want to fall behind.”