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Paul and Derek’scamp had been lucky to escape any real damage during Cyclone Hazer. They were far enough out not to be in its direct path, and had sustained minimal damage.
Thank god.
Pulling up at their camping ground gave me just as much of a thrill as it always did. Even more, probably, now that Jeremiah was with me. We’d come at the beginning of the wet season last year too.
That trip had been Jeremiah’s first true outing back in the furore.
Almost ten months after his brush with lightning, he’d wanted to come to the bunker with me. He was scared and he never set foot outside the bunker as soon as there was a cloud in the sky, but he was there with me.
And that was all I ever wanted.
I didn’t need him to be a scientist out here. I just needed him to be happy—and being out here made him happy.
So now we were back, two years after the lightning strike. We had enough gear to last us a week, but if we had to leave earlier, then so be it. The weather was supposed to be warm and humid with afternoon storms.
Perfect.
And my secret, my surprise, the small box in my duffel bag felt like a large elephant in the Jeep with us. I wanted to tell him... I wanted to show him...
“You good?” Jeremiah asked.
I shut off the engine and gave him a smile. “I’m great.”
Paul came out, holding two large containers stacked on top of each other. He saw it was us, and he grinned. “Hey, strangers.”
We got out of the Jeep, Jeremiah rushing to take the top container from him. “Here, let me get that.”
“Thanks.”
I followed them through to the outdoor kitchen.
“How’ve you both been?” Paul asked. “You, Jeremiah—” He looked him up and down. “—look good. No more brushes with death, I take it.”
He laughed. “No, thankfully.”
I slid my hand along the small of his back. The truth was, Jeremiah did look good. Really fucking good. He was happy. His new office was a dream come true and he now had two other staff. Howard and Georgia were both young and smart, really driven, and they brought a great energy to the office. And they both admired Jeremiah a lot. They respected him.
It was an office full of weather nerds, but Jeremiah would come home buzzed instead of beaten. He also talked to his dad more than ever. We’d been to Melbourne three times, and his dad had been back to Darwin twice since that first time.
He also had a stellar fucking sex life, I might just add.
So when Paul said that Jeremiah looked good, he wasn’t wrong.
Derek came out of their tent, the closest to the kitchen. “Thought I heard voices,” he said. “Welcome back.”
We all shook hands and said hello, and ten seconds later, Jeremiah and Derek were off, looking through Derek’s telescope.
“How’s he been?” Paul asked quietly. “No problems?”
They knew all about the possible long-term health and medical complications that came with being struck by lightning. Some took months or years to develop, like cataracts and organ complications.
“None, thank God. He’s been great. Passes all his physicals with flying colours.”
“And how is he with storms now?”
I nodded. “Better. He still won’t go out in them. Can’t say I blame him.”
“But he’s here,” Paul offered. “To go camping at the bunker for a week in storm season.”
