Surviving the Storm

by Heather Woodhaven

  A flare of heat grew in her core. They had dated three years, known each other five, not counting the two years they had been apart and he didn’t once—not once—tell her he loved her yet he could spout off how he loved the owners at the drop of the hat? She blinked the thought away. It didn’t matter. He was just kidding around.

  Her eyes drifted to a small silver box attached to the wall above David’s head. He sobered and turned around. “What? A junction box?”

  She nodded and approached the workbench. “I need a screwdriver.” Her hands gripped the handle and she made short work of the screws holding the cover on top of the electrical junction box.

  “May I ask what is so interesting about this box?”

  Aria jumped a little at his voice so near. She hadn’t heard him approach. His head was almost directly over her shoulder.

  “One second.” She popped it open. “There’s plenty of room in here to hide the thumb drive.” She slid the drive out of her pocket and placed it in the corner of the box where there was no chance it would touch the wires curled up within.

  “Why?” David asked.

  “If we venture out of here, there’s a chance they might catch us. If we stay here, there’s also a chance they still might catch us. Either way, I want to know that the evidence George died for is safely hidden.” She screwed the lid back.

  “Smart. No one would think to look inside an electrical junction box in a garage.” He laughed. “Only an architect would think of—”

  She sighed.

  “Oh, right.” David put his hand on her shoulder again. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m not buying that you believe architecture was your dad’s dream for you, and I don’t understand why your dad’s death means you need to leave architecture—” he cleared his throat “—and me behind.”

  “I don’t expect you to understand,” she said, her voice steely.

  He took the screwdriver from her hand, placed it back on the bench and turned her around to face him. “Then try me. Please.”

  “You won’t understand. Knowing you, you’ll make fun of me.”

  David sighed. “I don’t deny I’m good at teasing you—you give as good as you get too, you know—but I promise I won’t make fun of your feelings.”

  Aria exhaled, her shoulders sagged. There was no avoiding it now. “Did you know that construction workers account for twenty percent of all on-the-job fatalities?”

  David nodded.

  “After seeing my dad fall like that, and knowing so many others face that same fate, I don’t want to be a part of that world.”

  “But—”

  She held up a hand. “We both know to be the kind of architect I’d want to be, I’d have to be on site a fair amount of time. And you... If I let us have a future that’d be opening myself up to the kind of pain I’ve watched my mom suffer and I...” Her eyes betrayed her as they filled with tears. “I can’t do that,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I’m just not strong enough.”

  David opened his mouth, frowned and pursed his lips. He pulled her into a hug and that weakened her reserve all the more. The floodgates opened. Tears for her dad, George and her mom all rushed to the surface.

  “Can I ask you a question?” he asked.

  She nodded against his chest.

  “Did the site have a guardrail system, or was your dad using a personal fall arrest harness?”

  Her words hit her like bricks. She shoved herself off his chest. “You think my dad’s death was his own fault?” She bit out each word.

  “No, no, I’m not saying that. Aria, it’s just...yes, I know construction can be risky but what do you think I was learning in school? OSHA is there for a reason. There are tons of safety checks now, that if done...”

  “I cannot believe I ever tried to talk to you.”

  “Listen. I only ask because sometimes these old-timers, my own dad included, make sure their employees are following all the new safety standards but since they’re running the show, and they don’t like to mess with all that falderal, they prefer to go it old-school.”

  She stared at the light within the lantern and ruminated over his words. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But even if that is what happened, I don’t see how that matters in the long run. Either way, I’ve made my decision.”

  “It matters because if we...if someday you wanted us to have another chance, then at least you could rest with the fact that I follow all the safety precautions. You’d have my word on that.”

  Aria couldn’t believe she had just poured her heart out to a man who was using it to try to convince her...

  David’s eyes widened and he held out both hands. “Aria, I didn’t mean... I wasn’t trying to talk you into us.” He groaned, took a step back and placed his hand on his forehead. “I’m no good at talking about feelings, Aria. Maybe that’s why I like to take such stock in action meaning more than words. But let’s not change the subject. Am I hearing you right that your goal now is to avoid all risk in life? Is that the bottom line?”

  “No, no, no.” She took a step toward him. “You did not just say that to me. I avoid risk? Aren’t you the guy that just told me he waited years to share his feelings, only to put it in a card?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” But he didn’t sound remotely apologetic. “I should’ve respected whatever convoluted reasoning you’ve cobbled together. Obviously, you’ve decided your feelings are more important than mine.”

  She gasped and even though he hadn’t touched her, her cheeks heated so fast it was as if she’d been slapped. “Is that really what you think?”

  “Does it matter what I think?” he shot back. His shoulders sagged. “No... I don’t know. I’m sorry, Aria. I felt hurt and got defensive and said things I shouldn’t have said.”

  She blinked the tears back and in an instant was able to put back up her emotional shield. “It’s okay. We should’ve had that conversation two years ago, but I was too shut down, I guess. In some ways I still am. Maybe I always will be.” She looked around the garage. “It’s getting stuffy in here. I need some air.” She strode out of the garage into the hallway. A buzzing noise reached her ears. Her phone!

  FIFTEEN

  “Aria?” David shouted after her. “What is it?” He grabbed the nail gun case and the battery charger and hustled after her. “We need to at least keep a weapon nearby.”

  She spun around, eyes wide, her phone in her hand. “It’s my phone.” She laughed. “Check yours!”

  He powered up his cell.

  “It’s a bunch of texts,” Aria said, her voice jubilant. “I’ve got five from my mom alone. She’s used to me checking in three times a day. This could put her over the edge. I’m going to try calling the police again.” She put her phone to her ear, but David could hear the error tones through the speaker before she could say anything.

  “Network is still mostly busy,” he said for her. “I imagine texts are easier to get through.”

  Her shoulders drooped. “It gives me hope, though. I’m going to try to respond to my mom.” She bit her lip. “I don’t think I can tell her what’s going on. I’m not sure she could handle it without the doc increasing her meds first. These messages she’s sending me...she’s out of her mind with worry already, but maybe she can call the police for us?”

  David’s thumb froze on the screen. Her mother was on medication? She needed to check in three times a day? There must be a lot more going on in Aria’s life than he had realized. “Hold off. If I can get a text to my dad or brothers, maybe they can reach the police for us without you increasing your mom’s worry. Besides, my dad knows this area well.” In answer, his phone also started vibrating with incoming messages from his friends and family and two texts from a number he didn’t recognize. He’d read them as soon as he responded to his dad.


  David tried to compress the message detailing their location and what had happened, but it still took four texts to get all the information conveyed. Within a minute he received a response:

  Will do. We’ll find a way to get to you. Stay safe. Dad.

  He lifted his phone to allow Aria to see the screen. She put a hand to her chest. “I’m so thankful.”

  He turned back to his screen and read the first text from the unknown contact.

  This is Valentina. George’s wife. He left your number at house. Is he with you? Is he okay?

  David fought a wave of nausea. He couldn’t tell someone he’d never met that she was a widow over a text. That poor woman had to be worried sick, but he couldn’t give her bad news this way. The next text jolted his heart.

  Pls tell me if ur okay. Tried to find George. Two men with guns chased me. Can anyone help?

  “Aria. Look at this. Do you think this is a group text?”

  She peered over his shoulder and put a hand over her mouth. “I should’ve warned her.”

  He shook his head. “You tried, remember? The network was down and you didn’t have her number. Focus on the next step. How should I respond?”

  “Don’t tell her about George yet. Ask her where she is and if she’s somewhere safe.”

  His thumbs slid over the virtual keyboard. A moment later he was rewarded with a response.

  Hiding alone. House north of state park. Scared. Only texts work. Can you help me? Please?!

  Aria stood on her tiptoes, her chin grazing his shoulder as she read along. She took a step backward. “The good news is it sounds like she’s safe for now, but we have to go to her, David. She’s all by herself. She must be so scared. If she’s just north of the state park, it’s probably in walking distance. And there’s more power in groups, right?”

  He nodded. “Are we sure of her innocence?”

  She twisted her lips to the side in a grimace. “No. Not a hundred percent.” She took a deep breath. “But she’s George’s wife, and I know he loved her.” Her breath hitched. “I really hate talking about him in the past tense.”

  David’s stomach grew hot underneath his ribs. He couldn’t allow himself to grieve now, or he’d be of no use to Aria.

  “While I’m not sure of her innocence,” she continued, “I’m not sure of her guilt either. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to her when we could’ve—”

  “If we help, we have to go with the mindset that it might be a trap.”

  Aria dropped her head. “I wish it was clear what to do.”

  David’s phone buzzed. He read the text aloud.

  Police can’t get to you yet. Stay low until new plan. Mom calling in favors.

  David paced in the hallway. “Sounds like the cavalry won’t be coming anytime soon. So...we find out where this house is she’s hiding in, but we be smart about it. First, we don’t go to her until my nail gun is charged and...second, we need a way to test if it’s a trap before entering.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Think about it. The possibilities include the men holding her hostage and making her send the messages, or her being in on it and trying to lure us to her. If we could rig some kind of distraction that would lead the gunmen out if they’re with her, then we’d at least have a warning of what we were dealing with.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that possibility,” Aria admitted.

  David grinned. “I think I have an idea, but I’ll need your help.”

  Her eyes widened. “I know that mischievous look. What are you thinking?”

  “It’s a good thing I had a lot of brothers.”

  “David.” Her voice had a hint of warning to it.

  “Are you going to help me or not?”

  She shrugged. “Just tell me what to do.”

  “Go back into the garage and bring me one of those emergency ice packs, but take care not to activate it yet.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “And then what are you going to do?”

  “Add some more items to your list.”

  A smile emerged. “Such as?”

  He took a deep breath. “Some non-salt seasoning, sugar...and I’ll need to turn their fridge on for a little while.”

  She tilted her head and studied him. “We’re on the clock.”

  “So get going,” he said, not willing to reveal what he was up to.

  She spun for the garage but after two steps gasped. “You’re going to make a smoke bomb!”

  He grinned. He knew she’d put together the pieces. It was one of the reasons he lov— David gulped and refocused. “Not one smoke bomb, Aria. That would make a pitiful distraction. We’re going to make a whole set. Hurry. There’s no guarantee our new buddies won’t return.”

  Within a minute, she had joined him holding not one but two disposable freezer packs. He pointed to the supplies he’d gathered from the sparse pantry. At least the ingredients needed were considered staples in many homes. He looked up. “So you’ve done this before?”

  She laughed. “Are you kidding? Dad hated to spend money on anything he could make himself. Smoke bombs were a staple at our Fourth of July celebrations. I hated them—the smoke gives me a fierce headache—but the neighborhood kids seemed to enjoy them.”

  Aria slit the ice packs open with a knife and dissolved the ammonium nitrate in a glass bowl by stirring it up with the water from her bottle.

  He set up a workstation on the counter next to the stove and prepared the rest of the ingredients. It hit him—Aria wasn’t running away from risks. He had been dead wrong. Everything she did was the opposite—the flamethrower, a new career, even making these smoke bombs held some risk—but she was running from something. It was going to drive him crazy until he figured it out.

  “Done,” Aria proclaimed. “What’s next?”

  “Could you find some empty toilet paper rolls?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You’re making them into smoke fountains?”

  “The bigger the better,” he said. “More chance to draw a crowd.”

  Aria rolled her eyes. “On it.”

  A half hour later their concoction resembled the texture and color of peanut butter—but definitely not the smell—and was setting up nicely in the freezer. “Now we wait.”

  Aria crossed the wooden floor to stand against the windows.

  “It’s so odd to see the stars—something so beautiful yet so normal—amid so much destruction and danger.”

  He checked on the battery charger for the nail gun. It was nearing full charge. He followed her to the wall of windows. “It’s really not safe to hang out here. Too vulnerable.”

  “I won’t stay long,” she answered, her voice flat and dejected. Her fingertips brushed over the glass. “I wanted to see the stars and moon to remind myself that there’s someone still in control, like you said. Everything feels so chaotic...so wrong.”

  He followed her gaze and marveled at the sight the moon afforded. The view revealed nothing but water and the tops of buildings. If he squinted he could make out large shapes drifting...wreckage of some sort. “My truck and tools are definitely gone forever,” he said.

  “I’m sure my car is too.” She moaned. “I know you hated it, but I loved that thing. It served me well.”

  David almost reached out to her but managed the impulse and shoved his hands in his pockets instead. His thumb brushed against the sand dollar he had transferred from his wet clothes to the baggy jeans.

  Years ago, Aria’s mother—after the other parents had stopped lecturing them about the cave incident—had pulled Aria aside.

  David had focused on the sand below his feet. As he bent down to dig up a half-buried sand dollar, he heard Aria’s mom scold her for not getting out of the cave the moment she had discovered the
tide.

  “We thought about it, Mom, but David said we’d have risked getting our heads bounced around the rocks, trying to fight the current. He said we stood a better chance if we waited it out, and I agreed.”

  “I suppose I can understand that, but what on earth were you thinking trying out some unknown tunnel? You had no idea what you might have faced. We may have never found you.” Her mother’s voice shook.

  David had acted as if he was still working in the sand but strained to hear every word as his gut burned with shame. Her mom wasn’t too far off. It had been an impulsive and stupid situation. Only by the grace of God had they found a way out, but Aria’s voice had held no hints of stress. “I was with David, Mom. He was leading the way.”

  Her mother unleashed a dramatic sigh. “He’s just like your father, Aria, I hope you realize that—and he’s a stubborn one to boot.” The last few words were louder than the others, and David had been sure it was purposeful, for his benefit.

  Aria had joined him. “I don’t look anything like your father,” David objected.

  She released a lyrical laugh. “Oh, I know. She thinks saying that will deter me from you, but she made a big mistake. I happen to know my dad’s got great qualities, and my mom’s head over heels for him. Even after all these years.”

  “So he’s stubborn?” David had asked.

  She grinned. “Definitely.” David had wanted to argue, as she had the same trait herself, but she continued. “But Dad’s also resourceful, hardworking, witty, compassionate and...a genius in the field of construction. So, yeah, you two have some similarities.”

  David had smiled, satisfied with the answer. He finished brushing off the sand dollar. “For you, my lady.” Her eyes had widened, and she had flashed a brilliant smile.

  Now, as David held the shell in his hand, he wondered if she’d receive the sand dollar again with such joy. The resigned despair on her face as she stared out the window worried him. “There is one thing that’s not lost to the waves,” he said.

  “Oh?” she asked, but her eyes didn’t leave the scene past the windows.