by Holly Hook
Janelle screamed at herself to run, to get out of there, but her feet refused to peel themselves off the sand. She couldn’t tear her gaze from the pair of eyes that were locked on her. Eyes that weren't Gary's. Eyes that were something as far from human as they could get.
Gary stepped back and groaned, putting a hand over his face. The water slipped back into the ocean. The world froze.
An eternity later, Gary lowered his hand from his face. His wide eyes had gone back to their normal, solid hazel, pleading and terrified. He had returned, shoving the monster inside him back into a vault somewhere. “Don’t run. Please.”
“You’re…you’re--” Janelle backed away until she bumped into the hill behind her. No. It couldn’t be true.
Gary raised his palms as if Janelle were pointing a gun at him, glancing at the row of ruined houses. “Please hear me out. There was no way I wanted to do…that…but when my name came up, they forced me. That tropical storm naming list isn’t just to keep track of hurricanes, like people think. Tempests invented it. When a Tempest is born, their name gets down on that list. It’s our law. I'll explain it to you later. And when your name comes up, you have to become a storm, whether you want to or not. And then—”
“Get away from me.” She turned and scrambled up the hill. “Don’t come near me again!”
“Janelle! Wait!” Gary’s footfalls fell on the sand below. “I’m not going to do anything. Tempests aren’t supposed to hurt each other. I kept that telephone pole from falling on you.”
She froze, fingernails digging into the sand. She’d never said a word to him about that.
Gary was telling the truth. He really was a killer.
“Please don’t run.” Gary appeared beside her, crouching in the sand. “We can’t let anyone know about this. It has to stay a secret. We’re in Florida. If they find out what we are, they’ll probably lynch us.”
“Let me go. Please.” She had to find normal people. She—
Gary’s hand brushed against the back of her shirt. "I know this is scary. Just--"
“Get away!” A chain-link fence waited at the top of the hill, blocking her escape. A warehouse was beyond it. Janelle grabbed the fence and shook it against the poles. A squeal of panic filled her head, chasing away all thoughts of controlling herself. “Anybody! Help!”
Silence. A seagull took off into flight.
“Quiet.” Gary seized Janelle’s ankle, staring up at her with his mouth hanging open.
She kicked and his grip loosened. “Let go!”
Gary tumbled downhill in an avalanche of sand. Thud. He landed on the beach, sprawled out and facedown as the ocean lapped for him. It missed by a few feet and drew back.
Janelle let out a breath. She’d knocked him out. She turned to climb the fence again, but her gut clenched the second she put her hand on it. Gary might be injured. He’d lay there for days, and she’d be at fault. Or it could be a trick to make her go back down there. What to do?
With a groan, Gary lifted an arm and started to push himself up.
Okay. That settled it.
Janelle hoisted herself over the fence, catching her jeans on the top for one terrifying second. After tugging them free, she swung her feet over and hit the pavement running. Her footfalls thudded in her ears as she dashed past a rusty gate and onto a side street.
“Janelle!” Gary shouted from somewhere back.
Another thud. He’d jumped the fence.
Lose him. If he caught her, he might toss her into the ocean. He'd been talking about some law about that. Maybe he'd come to force her to--
Janelle turned and cut through a yard, dodging around a stack of plywood. A side street, a drive…it all blurred together as she ran.
Gary called for her again, fainter this time.
Downtown Palm Grove stretched out in front of her with its shops and hangouts. Hide. She needed to hide. Where would he not think to hunt for her?
Janelle bolted down the closest alley. She ducked down on the other side of a dumpster, took off her backpack, and pressed herself against the brick wall.
She held her breath against the stench and waited for footfalls to grow closer and closer. Nothing. It seemed like she’d eluded Gary. Only the sound of passing cars and laughing students floated down the alleyway.
Janelle let out a huge breath and covered her eyes with her hands. She’d come face to face with a monster she had never dreamed existed—a hurricane in human form. It was unbelievable.
It made sense.
Gary shared his name with the storm. He’d appeared right when it died. He couldn’t bear to look at the storm damage—the damage he had done. And his eyes would haunt her nightmares forever. Had her own eyes looked like that when the bowl of seawater had splashed on her? She squeezed them shut and hugged her knees. She wasn’t a Tempest! She wasn’t!
A truck rumbled past. Minutes passed as Janelle rocked back and forth as it all sunk in. Maybe, just maybe, it hadn't really been Gary she'd been running from. It had been everything else. Her father's lie.
Herself.
Gary was still out there, searching for her, maybe even thinking that she hated him. He'd given her the truth she had asked for. He hadn't even wanted to turn into a giant storm. That, she could believe. He deserved an apology, and there was more he wanted to tell her. Maybe he’d tell her why his guardian was after her.
Yes. She had to find him and apologize for freaking out.
She picked herself up, grabbed her backpack, and left the alley, resolved to take whatever Gary had to tell her next. How was she going to say sorry? Would he even accept it after she'd pushed him down that hill?
But Gary was nowhere in sight. Janelle checked the ice cream shop, the store, and even the beach again. He’d vanished. Maybe he did hate her now. She’d blown it.
After searching for half an hour, she headed home. There was nothing else she could do.
Her dad’s truck wasn’t in the driveway. Good. She didn’t want to face him or his betrayal right now. Janelle took another look behind her as she unlocked the door, went inside, and bolted it behind her. Yes. Gary had left. It wasn't like she could blame him, but that didn't stop the pain in her chest. Gary was the only solid land she had in a sea of lies.
Janelle was on her own all over again, flailing.
Your dad’s a Tempest, too. Gary’s words rang through her head as a fresh wave of nausea swept through her. Her father? The man who volunteered at soup kitchens and helped the neighbors with the cleanup? No. It couldn’t be.
She dropped her backpack at her bedroom door and faced her computer. If her dad was a Tempest, that would have to mean--
“No!”
She raced over to the monitor and loaded up the Internet browser. She typed two words, two words she didn’t want to put together. Her heart hammered in her throat. One of those screens that said she had no results would pop up. It had to.
Search results filled the screen from top to bottom. Janelle’s gaze landed on the first article on the list.
Hurricane Lucas. In bold blue letters.
Janelle felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. A choking sound escaped her throat as she clicked on the link, unable to look away. Lucas. Her father’s name.
HURRICANE LUCAS. Article by Freepedia. Below that, a hurricane bore down on the East Coast, staring out at her with its black eye. If this was…if this was…she scrolled down to hide the picture.
Hurricane Lucas was one of the most powerful storms to hit coastal North Carolina during the eighties. The system began suddenly as a tropical depression just off the coast of Bermuda in September of 1985 and strengthened into a tropical storm the next day. On September 10 Lucas became a Category 1 hurricane 500 miles off the U.S. coast. After passing over warm waters it evolved into a strong Category 3 storm with winds of up to 120 miles per hour. Luc
as made landfall on September 13 and left about 5 billion dollars worth of damage, much of it to the fishing industry. Though its rains ended a two-month drought in the area, it killed 13 people who did not follow evacuation orders and left another 28 injured.
Janelle fumbled with the mouse and closed the window with a trembling hand. Killed 13 people. No! She hadn’t read that. This was all a bizarre coincidence. Lucas was a common name, and there was no way her father could be this monster.
Janelle tossed herself down onto her cold bedcovers as a sob racked her body. Her dad had also turned into a hurricane and killed people. It explained everything. He’d spent his life helping others in need—was it all to make up for what he’d done?
Stomach lurching, she focused on the picture of her mother instead. She smiled out from the dock, black curls hanging around her ears. Had she been a Tempest, too, or a normal human? She’d never heard of a Hurricane Tina, but she didn’t want to look it up and blow the last of her hope away. She needed some to cling to right now. With Gary gone and her father refusing to open up, it was the best she could do.
Somebody tapped on her window. Janelle shot up and sucked in a breath, making the bed creak underneath her. Could it be--
Gary stood on the other side of the glass, motioning down to the latch.
“Janelle, we need to talk,” he shouted through the glass. “I’ll admit it. I followed you without you knowing because I didn’t want to freak you out again. Sorry.”
"You came back." She couldn't hide the relief in her voice. "I'm sorry I had a panic attack like that. I shouldn't have. You're not hurt, are you?"
"Sorry?" His eyes widened behind the glass. "What you did was normal, Janelle. If I were you, I would've run, too. I promise, I won’t do what I did at the beach, because I hated that just as much as you did. I had to make you believe me about everything. Listen to me and you’ll stand a better chance at escaping what’s coming. Can you let me in?”
He forgave her. She wanted to cry with relief, but held it back.
"Yes. I don't know when my dad's going to be back, though. I’ll let you in at the front. Then I have to ask you something.” Gary wouldn't lie about what was on the screen.
A minute later, she and Gary stood in front of the computer. “Now be honest.” With a click she pulled up the Hurricane Lucas article and stared down at the white carpet, but not before she caught a glimpse of the storm’s twisting eye. “Is this…is this…” My dad, she meant to finish. But the lump in her throat grew too painful for speech.
Gary lowered his voice as if he were at a funeral. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I couldn’t keep from warning you. My mom told me about the whole Tempest deal when I was twelve, and man, I took it pretty hard. I didn’t talk to her for days. I bet there’s an article there on her too, if it’s any consolation.”
Janelle put her palms down on her desk. If she didn’t, she’d collapse right there on the floor in front of Gary. She pointed to the monitor, keeping her gaze glued to a pencil mark in the wood. “Did the other Tempests force him to become…that…or did he do this on his own?”
“Don’t know. I never actually knew your dad. I only just met him at the hospital."
“I can’t live with this.” Janelle’s pulse throbbed across her temples. Great. Another headache on top of all this. “How can I even look at my dad again, knowing he’s killed people?”
“I’ve killed people, too.”
“That’s different. You’re not my family.” She covered her face in her hands. A nightmare. That’s all this was.
“Your dad doesn’t seem like the kind who did it on purpose. Not like some Tempests I know too well. He had no choice but to change no matter what. When your name comes up, you have to become a storm whether you like it or not. That’s what I came to warn you about.”
“Warn me?” Janelle lowered her hands from her face. The gurgling in her stomach was enough to tell her what was next.
Gary’s hazel eyes bore into hers, serious. “Yeah. Has your dad decided to take you out on a boat sometime in the next week or so? Take you out somewhere in the ocean?”
A chill swept through her. “We’re going scuba diving next week in the Bahamas.”
Her breath caught. Oh, God.
“That’s what your dad wants you to think. It’s not scuba diving you’re going to be doing.” Gary wiped his palms on his jeans. “A lot of Tempest parents don’t tell their kids anything, then shove them off a boat or something when their time comes.”
A hollow terror bloomed in her chest. “No. My dad wouldn't do that to me.”
Gary marched over to the computer and typed three words into the search bar: hurricane naming list. Another article from Freepedia popped up. He clicked, and columns of names for the Atlantic hurricane seasons filled the screen. “Take a look.”
“I don’t want to see this.” But she couldn’t look away. Her legs carried her closer to the monitor, one step at a time.
Gary tapped his finger on one of the columns. “Look here.”
Janelle raised one shaking finger, pressed it to the screen, and made her way down the column. GARY…HEATHER…IAN…
A moan of horror escaped her throat.
…JANELLE.
Chapter Seven