Through the Storm (The Solar Storms Saga Book 1)

by Kyle Pratt

  As men unloaded boxes from the back of the trucks, a third biker in dark leather roared up to the house on a red motorcycle. Over his shoulder, he wore a satchel, like a messenger. When he dismounted, he pulled goggles up from his eyes.

  Conner glanced north, toward where he had left Madison. He wanted to return to her, but they would need a plan to circumvent these thugs. He pulled the map from his pack and searched for the best route.

  Nearby, male voices spoke in whispers.

  Twigs snapped.

  Conner turned in the direction of the voices and froze. A wolf stared at him from not ten feet away.

  In an unhurried back-and-forth sway, the animal shifted its gaze from Conner to the oncoming voices.

  Moving slowly and holding his breath, Conner reached for his rifle.

  The beast snarled.

  With his arm in midreach, Conner stopped.

  The wolf gazed into the forest for several moments. Then four pups edged out of the shadows. Together they hurried away into the forest.

  Conner sighed with relief, but the voices remained and seemed closer. Taking another slow, deep breath, he eased himself into nearby shrubs. Moments later, Shaggy and two other men strode from the forest and crossed where the wolves had been moments earlier.

  “I saw a wolf, I tell you.” Shaggy gestured ahead of him. “It must have come through here.”

  “The boss wants us to find Danny. Not an overgrown dog.”

  Holding still, Conner waited for them to pass. When they had gone, he slipped from his hiding place and crept several hundred yards.

  More twigs snapped.

  Another wolf or more men? Conner slid into a grove of large fir trees. Wolves might be less dangerous.

  Two more unfamiliar voices whispered as they passed him in the darkness.

  “Where do you think the girl is going?” one man whispered.

  “I don’t know. Let’s just find Danny and get back to the house.”

  Conner inched a few yards to the gully and hid along the bank. He listened for the slightest sound. Hearing nothing, he eased forward.

  Cigarette smoke wafted on the breeze.

  He waited and watched a red glow float by a few yards distant.

  For the next several hours, men in groups of two or three moved through the forest in a noisy and apparently haphazard search for the girl and Danny. Why didn’t they call for them? Did they run away? Escape? If they were looking for someone who escaped, why were some smoking or talking? Even if they whispered, it seemed really thoughtless. If they were stupid, Conner was grateful. It increased his chances of avoiding them.

  But progress remained slow, and eventually, the darkness of the forest grew so deep that he couldn’t see the trees in front of him. Crawling into shrubs that he hoped would hide him for the night, he prayed for Madison’s safety and waited for sunrise.

  Day Ten

  Clark County, Washington, Tuesday, September 13th

  As the sun rose on a new day, Neal leaned against a boulder, thinking of eggs and bacon.

  Ginger sniffed and pawed at the backpack.

  Claire grunted, rolled on her side, and opened her eyes. “Coffee would be so good right now.”

  “That would be nice.” He added it to his imaginary breakfast. “But we don’t have any coffee or food and we have another problem.” Neal relayed the news about bandits that he had learned during the night

  Claire moaned and struggled to a sitting position. “But we can go around them, can’t we?”

  “Sure, but it will take longer.”

  “Everything seems to be taking longer.” Claire used a low limb to pull herself up. “No coffee, no food.” She shook her head. “Let’s get started.”

  Hours later, Neal wiped his brow with a sleeve and then looked into the blue sky. For most of the day, they hiked slowly north in a wide arc toward Riverbank. It had been a warm day. A few clouds would have been nice, but as the sun passed its zenith and slipped toward the horizon, Neal longed to be home. “Are you tired?”

  “A bit.”

  “We can stop if you need to, but the farm is—”

  “I can go on.”

  Neal smiled, thankful for her endurance. “We should be there about nightfall.”

  * * *

  Thurston County, Washington, Tuesday, September 13th

  Birds twittered in the predawn twilight as Conner inched through the forest, listening for any threat.

  Leaves rustled with the breeze.

  Using hills and trees as cover, he wound his way back toward the gully where he left Madison. When he spotted her, he dashed the last twenty yards and slid down the slope beside her.

  She slammed a fist into his groin and with the other hand swung a rock at his face. She stopped with a gasp. “Conner! What were you thinking, coming up on me like that? I could have killed you! Where have you been? I was so worried.”

  Conner held up a finger, signaling her to wait as pain radiated from his groin. A few minutes later, as it subsided, he inhaled a deep breath. “Hitting below the belt is against the rules.”

  “Sorry,” she said in a soft voice. “Where were you?”

  “Hiding and trying not to get killed.” Conner described his night. “The gang is looking for someone named Danny and a girl. They might have been lost, but the thugs didn’t call for them. I think the two might be trying to escape.”

  “You may be right.” Madison frowned. “They’re probably on the run from those killers. I feel sorry for them.”

  “Feel sorry for us.” Conner shook his head. “We’ll need to avoid their searches.” He pulled out his map. “The gang will look close to their base. Let’s go back a couple of exits and cross over to here.” He pointed out the route with a finger.

  Madison nodded.

  Conner did a quick check of the area and spotted no one.

  “The searchers probably have moved farther away.” He grabbed the trailer bike. “We need to be careful. I’ll stay in the lead.”

  She nodded and they both walked out to the highway and then sped away on their bikes. After retracing their route north for two miles, they exited the freeway and turned south toward Riverbank.

  Later, Conner spotted an abandoned gravel pit where he and his friends had gone swimming on hot summer evenings. He paused to splash the cool water on his face.

  Madison rolled to a stop beside him. “This is taking a lot longer.” She gulped water from a canteen.

  “Yeah, but I don’t think Goatee, Shaggy, and the others have followed us, so I’m happy.” He looked at the map. “We’re coming in a back way.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “No, not really.” Conner shook his head. “We’ll be on winding back lanes all the way to the farm. Since I know these roads, I want to stay in the lead. I could find my way home from here in pitch blackness.” He looked into the sky. And we’ll probably get to the farm after nightfall.

  “Do we have any food left?” Madison asked.

  “No.” Suddenly anxious to see home, Conner said, “Let’s get going.”

  Several hours later, long shadows shaded the roads. Still, sweat rolled down Conner’s forehead, burning his eyes. He squinted and blinked as he struggled to read the sign ahead. Then he wiped his face with a sleeve and the words snapped into clear view. Braking to a stop, he pointed. “Entering Lewis County! This is where I live.” He grinned, remounted his bike, and sped south as fast as he could.

  Madison pulled alongside and smiled.

  For the next few minutes, they pedaled side by side down the quiet country road. He watched her pull strands of long brunette hair as it flapped into her face as she pedaled beside him. They had been through a lot, but together they had found a way to survive. He wanted to somehow express those feelings to her. If he could just find—

  Madison looked back. “What’s that noise?”

  “A motorcycle!” Conner motioned toward the woods. “Quick, follow me.”

  They were barely off
the road when a biker, wearing goggles and carrying a satchel, roared around the corner on an old red Harley.

  Conner reached for the rifle slung over his shoulder.

  The biker slowed, waved a pistol, and shook his head. He gazed intently at both Conner and Madison before he revved the bike and disappeared around the next bend.

  “I saw that guy.” Conner wiped his face with both hands.

  “Where?” Madison asked as they walked back to the road.

  “At that house with the other gang members. He drove up while I was watching. I think he’s some kind of messenger.”

  “I’m glad he wasn’t interested in us.”

  A shot boomed.

  Madison frowned. “Maybe he was interested in someone else.”

  “Maybe.”

  The roar of the motorcycle engine faded into the distance.

  Conner mounted his bike. “I’ll lead.” He had learned to drive along many of these back roads and had traveled most of them in the years since. Less than a mile ahead, he eased his bike into sharp curve. Images of twisted metal, blood, and death flashed in his mind. Deadman’s Curve. Several head-on collisions had occurred in the bend, and at other times drivers slid and hit the bridge.

  The bridge. He took a deep breath as unwanted memories raced into his mind. A few months after obtaining his license, he had followed a friend’s car around this curve. The friend had gone too fast, slid on wet pavement, and bashed into the narrow bridge with a metal ripping roar he would never forget. Slamming on the brakes, Conner’s car slid toward the mangled vehicle but stopped inches away. He lived, but his friend didn’t.

  Most locals took the curve slowly. Conner coasted slowly around the curve on his bike.

  He saw the bridge first, then the leather-clad biker, sprawled face up in the middle of the road nearby.

  Conner braked and dismounted his bike.

  Madison gasped.

  He waved for her to back away and then he gazed along the trees for bandits.

  Birds chirped.

  Seeing no threat, Conner eased forward and, for the second time in two days, pressed fingers against the neck of a dead man. A single bullet wound marred his chest. Deep shadows now covered parts of the road. The biker may not have even seen the person who killed him.

  His goggles and satchel were gone, probably snatched by whoever stole the red Harley.

  “Is he dead?” Madison asked weakly.

  “Yeah.” Conner nodded. “We probably should get away from here.”

  As the sun continued its downward trek, Conner and Madison hurried south into the growing darkness.

  * * *

  Rural Lewis County, Washington, Tuesday, September 13th

  Neal felt every year of his age in aching legs and sore feet. As the sun fell below the horizon, filling the world with shadows, he and Claire stopped to rest. Now he struggled with the idea of continuing on. If he did, they could reach the farm in a couple of hours. He forced his tired body to move.

  In the distance, the sound of a motorcycle grew.

  “Do you hear that?” Claire asked.

  Neal nodded. With both the shadows of late evening and the distance they were from the road, it seemed unlikely anyone speeding by on a motorcycle would notice them, but Neal eased the shotgun onto his lap as he listened and waited for the biker to pass.

  He braced himself as the engine’s roar grew louder.

  Tires and brakes squealed.

  Silence reclaimed the night.

  Neal held his breath. What had happened? An accident? Ambush?

  Angry shouts and curses from a woman quickly shattered the stillness.

  Holding his shotgun, Neal rose to his feet and handed the leash to Claire. “Stay here. I’ll check it out.”

  “I’ll be right behind you.”

  Neal grunted. “Okay.” He trudged along the shoulder of the road, staying close to the trees.

  Around the next bend in the road, a woman with dark hair waved a flashlight as she kicked and cursed at a red Harley lying on the pavement. She stormed away from the bike and then back toward it, shook her head, and cursed some more.

  Neal pointed the shotgun in her direction. “Having problems with the bike?”

  She spun around with a pistol in one hand, goggles and flashlight in the other.

  “I heard you and came to investigate. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He squinted through the light, trying to look at her but saw only short dark hair, dark jacket, and jeans.

  Claire stepped from the tree line.

  Ginger growled.

  She stared at the dog for a moment and then at Claire. Slowly she eased the gun and flashlight down. “Sorry. A girl can’t be too careful these days.”

  “My name’s Neal.” He lowered his weapon. “What’s wrong?”

  “Danny.” She stared at the bike for a moment.

  Confused by the name, Neal glanced about.

  “No. I’m Dani, with an ‘i.’ As for the bike, I don’t know. I hit a pothole and blew the tire, but now it won’t even start.” She kicked the bike again. “I know how to fix these things, but it’s so dark and I’ve got no tools with me. I don’t want to be stuck out on the road all night.” She slumped beside the bike.

  Neal stared into the night toward his home just a couple of miles away. Uneasiness swept over him. Something felt wrong. He didn’t want to invite Dani to stay with them, but even with a pistol, it wouldn’t be safe for her to camp along the road.

  As he stared at the Harley and her, an idea formed. “There’s a church a few miles from here. We’re going that way. I’m sure you could stay there for the night and in the morning you can fix the Harley.”

  Dani stared at him for a moment as if trying to see deeper inside him. “Okay. It’s been a long time since I was in a church.” She struggled to stand the bike. “Lead the way.”

  “Do you want me to help you?” Neal asked.

  “No. I can do this,” Dani grunted and the bike rolled.

  With a glance at her belly, Neal took Ginger’s leash from Claire. Then he turned his gaze to Dani as she strained to roll the bike along. She could never push it up the hill.

  For the next few minutes, they continued along the two-lane road, over a small stream and around a long curve. Progress seemed painfully slow. He remembered Beth saying that when things are frustrating, God is trying to teach patience.

  Really, God? When I’m this close to home you want to teach me patience? He sighed.

  Claire stared at him. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” Neal planted a smile on his face.

  “That’s your creepy face grin again. Do you recognize this area?”

  “Yes. Even in the dark.”

  Shouts and laughter broke the quiet of the night.

  “This seems to be a night for yelling.” Neal considered telling the women to wait while he checked out who the crazy person might be, but he figured that neither would stay behind.

  As Ginger sniffed the air, Neal again passed the leash to Claire and then stepped around the curve.

  The voice sounded happy and young. It also seemed familiar. He squinted, trying to see the person’s face. He stepped from the forest and into the road, illuminated only by the crescent moon.

  * * *

  Night created more worries and increased the danger, but it also brought cool breezes that allowed Conner to pedal longer and faster toward Riverbank. He knew the way, but it all seemed different, even foreboding. Only an occasional flickering yellow light from a candle or campfire pierced the night. The black asphalt of a strip mall seemed endless with the large, tan, brick building beyond invisible. Unseen cows mooed in an unseen pasture.

  “There it is!” Conner stopped his bike and ran to a street sign. “This is it!” He danced a jig several times around the pole. Little brother, I’ll be home in minutes. “This is the sign for my street.”

  A few feet away, Madison laughed.

  “Right up there, that’s where it
is, just up the hill.”

  Gravel crunched behind Conner. He spun around with his rifle ready.

  A man holding a shotgun stepped out of the shadows. His clothes didn’t fit well and he had the start of a salt and pepper beard, but his face looked strangely familiar.

  “Dad?”

  Fear and tension that had permeated Conner now gushed like a flood. His dad stood in front of him. He fought back the tears that welled in his eyes.

  Neal slung the shotgun from his hands to a shoulder and stared. “Conner?”

  “Yeah, it’s me.” He stepped close and they embraced. As Conner pressed against his dad, he knew that the long journey had ended and everything would be okay.

  “I hardly recognized you.” His father stepped back and looked him up and down. “I think we’ve both lost some weight.”

  “Where were you when the solar storm hit?” Conner asked.

  “Near Grants Pass, Oregon.” He shook his head. “I’m glad you were here.”

  Conner frowned.

  Neal stared at Conner for a moment and then at the woman beside him.

  She looked away.

  “Conner … Where have you been?”

  Torrents of guilt and anxiety flooded back upon Conner. “Remember our fight the night before you left?”

  His father nodded.

  In the distance, the rumble of motorcycle and truck engines disturbed the quiet.

  A woman in a dark leather jacket pushing a Harley trudged from of the shadows. She glanced at the street sign and her eyes widened.

  “You told me not to go hunting.” Conner pursed his lips. “Well, I did.”

  “When did you get back?”

  The Harley woman pushed her bike closer. “Ah … lovely family reunion and all, but figure it out later. You hear those vehicles? If the people driving them are who I think they are, we don’t want them seeing us.”

  Conner nodded in agreement. “Let’s get back to the farm. We can sort things out there.”

  The rumble of engines and vehicles grew.

  “Okay.” Neal waved at the others. “Let’s head toward my farm.” As they walked, he turned to Dani. “Who are these people following you?”

  Conner gazed at the red Harley the woman pushed across the road. Then he spotted the satchel and goggles. “Your name is Dani?”