by Holly Hook
Traffic thinned as they headed out of town. “You do realize why your dad’s taking you to the Bahamas?” Mr. Deville asked. His tone was gentle, careful. "I'm assuming that you do."
Gary shot her a warning glance.
“Yes.” It was the truth, and it made a sick feeling swell inside of her. Janelle decided she had better pretend she was going along with the Natural Law. If Mr. Deville found out she was running away…well, her dad would be happy to get her back.
“I knew you were a Tempest when you told me about your house not taking any damage,” Mr. Deville said. “That, and you mentioned your Bahamas vacation when you got your homework from me. Your name’s also on the list this year, so it was pretty easy to make the connection."
“Oh,” Janelle said. She wanted to retract to some tiny point inside herself and hide.
Her teacher glanced in the mirror at her. "Janelle, are you scared?”
"Yes." There was no point in lying about that one.
Her teacher stole a glance back at her. “This is why a lot of Tempests keep this secret from their kids until it’s time. It saves a lot of emotional upset.”
A question had been burning inside her for some time now, stamped there by her father's desperate pleas for her to come back. "Do you die or something if you don't change when it's your time?" She had to know, to make sure she wasn't making some horrible mistake by running. But if his answer was a yes, could she really turn back and let her dad take her to the ocean?
Even Gary looked up at her question.
“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 got hurt, but something weird happened. No other Tempests could transform when they jumped--or got pushed--in the water. It was as if the entire cycle got locked up. Of course, it all went back to normal when those two finally gave in.”
“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. “Oh. I didn't know that.”
If Mr. Deville was right, could she save other Tempests from this fate by running? Could she stop Andrina from using someone else for Operation Reckoning, whatever it was?
She had to try.
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.
“It’s gone. My phone, I mean.” Janelle let out a long sigh, leaning back onto the seat. “Just my luck.”
“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 midnight fliers 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? 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 bolted for the gates.
“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 think about.
But the footfalls never came. A minute later, a gray blur moved past them and down the main hall.
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.
“Man, that was close,” Gary said, looking away. His cheeks were red. “We need to get a flight out of here. Now. It doesn’t matter where to.”
"Good idea." They couldn’t stand in here for the next six hours. “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. Sorry.” The apology 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, get a ticket, and get as far from the ocean as she could.
If Mr. Deville was right and no other Tempests could change until she did, 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.
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."
“Janelle!” someone called from behind them.
She froze, Gary with her, and whirled around.
Mr. Deville ran towards them, stomach bouncing up and down. Alongside him came a man with glasses and wavy brown hair.
Her father had also come for her at the airport.
Chapter Eleven