The unknown woman is gone, leaving a cracked parking lot and a dangerous storm in her wake.
“We have to find her,” Nariko shouts. “We have to try to calm her down and help her before she leaves every city in Oklahoma in shambles,” she shouts over the loud rumblings of thunder, wind, and rain.
Taking her hand, I remember Lorcan’s warnings about Ruka. If he chases tonight, he’ll die.
“Ruka, stay behind and help the others. Your sister and I can do this!” I yell, wiping the water from my eyes. It’s useless. The rain is coming down too hard and fast.
“What? No. I’m not missing this.”
I grab his arm when he steps forward, stopping him in his tracks. “Please, stay,” I beg him. “Stay safe. For your sister.”
“No way. I’m not missing this moment with her.” He rips his arm from my hold. “I promised her I would always stay by her side and I meant it. Just because you’re in her life doesn’t mean you’re allowed to take that from me.” He runs to catch up to Nariko, his shoes splashing in the heavy puddles.
I follow them, keeping my head down to avoid the rain getting in my eyes. More thunder clashes, lighting up the sky with the promise of destruction.
I kick a giant piece of hail out of the way, rolling it underneath a car.
Lightning cracks so loud, I jump, watching another telephone pole send sparks in the air. A live wire swings, taunting us with a fatal electric current if it hits us.
The storm vehicle the Trackers have is similar to Nariko’s, which gives me a little reassurance. Unlike The Dust Bunny, it isn’t pink. This truck is a dark blue and higher off the ground.
Nariko climbs into the passenger seat and fastens her harness. There’s one seat in the back, and I claim it, snapping my own harness in place. As I glance around, I’m taken back to the night my brother died. If we had all the gadgets and technology, I wonder if he would still be alive.
Ruka flips a few silver switches and lights flash from atop the truck. Headlights cut into the sheets of rain. The visibility is low. I can hardly see a few inches in front of us, and I have impeccable vision, much more reliable than a human’s.
“Ruka, maybe I should drive,” I offer.
He and Nariko shake their heads at the same time. It would be comical if we weren’t supposed to drive into a storm.
“Ruka always drives. He is the best driver in the game. Trust him.”
“It isn’t him I’m worried about,” I reply, and I mean that earnestly.
Storms are unpredictable. With low visibility like this, he won’t be able to see debris flying at us.
The truck grumbles as Ruka accelerates. The tires dip from the crack in the parking lot the unknown woman caused.
“We want to go where the wind is going,” Nariko informs, fidgeting with the touchscreen on the dashboard. The picture glitches and freezes. “Damn it. It’s still not working. Oh, I need my camera!”
Ruka drives around the parking lot, zigzagging through downed trees, light posts, and shattered glass from windshields.
The brakes squeal when he comes to a stop in front of my truck. The hood is so dented, it’s bent in half, and the windshield is shattered. Just like every other car in the lot.
I climb out and grumble to myself as the rain smacks against the side of my face, “I fucking hate storms. I hate them. This is the second truck”—I rip the passenger side door open and grab the strap to her camera bag—“that I’ve had to replace. I’m sick of it.”
I run to the car, keeping my speed at a normal human rate so Ruka doesn’t get suspicious. I climb into the car, soaked from only a few seconds out in the rain, and hand Nariko her camera bag.
She’s already opening it and getting out the camera that’s about to take the best picture of a storm the world will ever see.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, answering it while I strap myself in.
It’s Westin.
“Are you okay? How’s everyone in the bar?” I ask him, keeping my attention on my surroundings as Ruka turns left on the road.
“I don’t know. Where the hell are you?”
Silence drifts between us. The tires squeal when Ruka jerks the car to the left, missing a giant branch soaring through the air, a deadly spike that could have easily pierced through the windshield.
