Kent ran to Olivia and said, “This is your party, let’s dance!”
With a coy smile, Olivia went along. Kent pulled her out into the circle of light that was intended to be a dance floor, and the two danced as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Most of the people drifted away from Jon to ring the dance floor and watch them while bouncing to the music themselves. The receptionist girls jumped to the center and danced with one another. They were followed by a few guys who danced with them, and soon the place was packed with people, all jumping and bouncing to the music. Even a few older people joined in. They looked awkward, and they couldn’t have cared less. After what they’d been through, nothing would ever embarrass them again.
Jon kept the songs coming, switching from one iPod to another. It wasn’t the smoothest of mixes, but nobody seemed to care. He kept the energy up and the people jumping as more and more joined in. I caught a glimpse of Chris Campbell dancing with the receptionist girls. Even the boss was letting loose.
I looked across the crowd of dancing bodies to the far side where Tori stood with her arms folded and a disapproving frown on her face. I circled the group and slid my way over to her.
“Man, how bad does this suck?” I said.
Tori gave me a quick glare, then stared back at the dancers as she answered.
“I’m not an a-hole,” she said curtly. “I get that people have to blow off steam, but they’re living in denial.”
“Maybe, but at least they’re living. Let’s dance.”
“I don’t dance,” she said.
“Me neither. We can just jump around to the music.”
Before she could argue, I pulled her into the group of now sweating bodies. Jon changed the tune to another upbeat song that was all over the radio a few weeks and a lifetime ago as I faced Tori . . . and danced. I don’t have any moves, but I do have rhythm, so all I did was jump a little and pump my fists into the air, to become part of the pulsating, joyous mass.
Tori didn’t move. She was looking for an escape route, but there were too many people crowding her in. She was trapped . . . and getting knocked around.
“Your shoulder,” I said seriously and stopped dancing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think.”
“My shoulder’s fine,” she said.
“You always say that.”
“This time I mean it,” she replied.
As if to prove it, she started to dance. She raised her arms in the air, even on the injured side, and started to spin and sway to the music. Unlike me, Tori could dance, and she proved it.
“Are you serious?” I called over the music. “You’re okay?”
She shrugged and spun around. Her long, wavy, dark hair was loose, and it flew around as if it were dancing on its own.
For the first time in a long while, she smiled. Like everyone else, she had gotten lost in the music and the pure joy of letting go.
I was happy to join her and started moving to the beat again.
“Now we’re talking!” Kent said and jumped in between us.
He danced with Tori while Olivia settled in front of me. Dancing with her was a whole different experience from dancing with Tori. While Tori spun and bounced and let her arms go like a wild little kid, Olivia had her eyes locked on mine as if she used dancing to share another kind of energy. It made me sweat, and it wasn’t because of the jumping around. I turned my back to her, but she grabbed my shoulders, pulled me close, and began moving in rhythm with me.
I really hoped that Kent wasn’t watching.
Suddenly, the music downshifted into a slow song.
Uh-oh.
Olivia spun me until we were facing each other.
“Perfect timing,” she said.
I didn’t agree.
She put her arms around me, pulled me close, and rested her head on my shoulder.
I was trapped, so I loosely put my arms around her, and we started swaying to the music.
Most of the people weren’t coupled up, so the dance area thinned out pretty quickly. There would be no hiding. I glanced over Olivia’s shoulder to see that Kent and Tori were wrapped up in each other. I wasn’t sure if that was good news or bad news.
“I needed this,” Olivia said. “I haven’t had any fun in forever.”
“I know what you mean. Nice job. Seriously.”
“Thank you,” she said and snuggled in closer to me. “Let’s pretend like this is going to last.”
I glanced over to Kent and Tori to see that they were dancing just as close. I decided to stop being so nervous and tightened my hold on Olivia.
She responded with a giggle.
“We rely on you, Tucker, you know that? Even Kent. He acts all alpha, but he always waits to see what you think before making any decisions.”
“I don’t know if that’s so smart,” I said.
“Maybe not, but you take everything in and make your choices without bringing any of your own baggage.”
Olivia had no idea what baggage I was hiding, and that was fine by me.
“You aren’t like Tori,” she added. “She’s trying to prove something.”
“She’s angry about her father,” I said.
“We’re all angry,” Olivia snapped. “That’s no excuse to be dumb. I think we’re right where we belong, and we should stay here for as long as we can. If she wants to leave, let her.”
I didn’t respond. What was the point?
“I like you, Tucker,” she said, holding me closer.
That crossed over the danger line, and I loosened my hold on her.
“I like you too, Olivia. You know that. But you and Kent are—”
“Oh, stop,” she said petulantly. “Kent doesn’t own me.”
“But he really cares about you. I’m not going to get in the middle of that.”
Olivia looked up at me, and with a flirty smile she said, “You may not have a choice.”
“Tucker!”
I felt a hand on my shoulder, pulling me away from Olivia. I expected to turn and see Kent, or Kent’s fist. But it was Tori . . . and she looked pissed.
“Dance with me,” she commanded.
It wasn’t like I had another option. She put her arms around me, not as tightly as Olivia had done, and I followed her lead. Seconds later, we were swaying together as Olivia melted into the crowd.
I felt the tension in Tori’s body. There was more going on with her than just dancing.
“What’s wrong?” I asked
Her answer was to grow even more rigid.
“Talk to me, Tori,” I pressed.
“He tried to kiss me,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Oh. Oh? Did you kiss him back?”
“No!”
I let out a short, relieved laugh.
“Why is that funny?” she asked angrily.
“It’s not. I’m just relieved. I thought it might be something more, more . . . I don’t know. You know?”
If I were being honest, I would tell her that I was relieved because she wouldn’t let Kent kiss her. But that might make her even angrier.
“Such a pig,” she said. “He hangs all over Olivia, and then tries to kiss me? Seriously?”
“He probably just got caught up in the moment. It’s not like we’ve had a whole lot of chances to act, you know, normal.”
Tori pulled back and looked me straight in the eye. “There’s nothing normal about Kent Berringer trying to kiss me.”
We looked into each other’s eyes for a moment and then both started to laugh. Getting bent up about who should be kissing who felt like we were paying a visit to our old lives, where things like that mattered. It felt good. I think it did for Tori too. In spite of her anger.
She pulled me back close as the dance continued. I didn’t mind.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“For what?”
“For giving you such a hard time about not going to Nevada. You were right. Being here is good.”
“Does that mean you want
to stay?” I asked.
She hesitated for a few seconds, then said, “I don’t know. I don’t want to get comfortable.”
“Why not?”
“Because this can’t last.”
The song changed to another slow tune. Tori and I didn’t miss a beat and kept swaying.
“At least being here gave your shoulder a chance to heal,” I said.
I felt Tori stiffen again, ever so slightly.
“It is better, right?”
“It is,” she said. “But . . . I don’t know. It’s strange.”
“That you healed up?”
“No, that I healed so quickly. Luna said it would take weeks before I felt better. But after I went to see that knob doctor, the wound started to heal incredibly fast. Like . . . impossibly fast. It’s nothing more than a small scar now, and I have total movement of my shoulder with no pain. It’s like it never happened.”
“And you’re complaining?” I asked, incredulous.
“No, I’m totally relieved. But how could that be? I mean, he put some kind of antibiotic on it, but that wouldn’t make me heal, like . . . instantly. Would it?”
I had no answer for that. It was great news, but another piece in a puzzle that didn’t quite fit.
“What do you want to do, Tucker?” she asked.
“Uh, you mean right now?”
“No, I mean about staying here. You’ve had a chance to think, and I’m better now. Do you want to stay?”
She looked up into my eyes, and for the first time I sensed that Tori Sleeper had doubts. She was always supremely confident in every move she made, whether it was tying a fisherman’s knot or running the gauntlet between two burning warships. Now she was conflicted and looking to me for guidance. It was alien territory for both of us.
I opened my mouth to speak, though I wasn’t sure of what I was going to say when—
“Stop!” she yelled.
“Uh, what?”
Tori’s eyes had gone from questioning to frightened.
“Kill the music!” she shouted for all to hear.
It made everybody jump.
Tori pulled away from me and ran to the table where Jon had the iPods set up.
“Shut it off!” she yelled at him.
Flustered, Jon stopped the music. The marketplace went deathly silent. Nobody moved. All eyes were on the crazy girl who had just pulled the plug on their party.
“What is it?” Chris Campbell asked as he made his way through the crowd.
Tori threw up her hand to stop him.
“Listen,” she said.
I’d heard that command before.
Every last person trained their ears to try to hear what Tori was shouting about. They all feared the same thing. Their focus went to the sky.
“I hear it,” I said softly.
It was faint but unmistakable.
A rumble went through the crowd as everyone picked up on the sound. It was the last thing they ever wanted to hear again.
“There!” Jon shouted, pointing skyward.
High in the night sky, coming from the west, was the first in a long line of shadows.
The Air Force was back.
NINE
“Everybody inside!” Chris commanded. “Move! Now!”
The entire crowd scrambled for the building where we had been safely sleeping below ground. What had been a barracks would now have to serve as a bunker. It wasn’t a full-on panicked rush. There were no screams but plenty of pushing and shoving.
I went for the cables that were powering the Christmas lights, but Olivia grabbed my arm.
“Where are you going?” she screamed. “Get inside!”
“I’m coming,” I said. “Get out of here!”
She hesitated, as if not wanting to leave me, but Kent yanked her away. The two ran for safety. Jon abandoned his DJ table and was right behind them.
The musical sound of the incoming planes grew louder.
I found the main plug for the lights and yanked it loose, breaking the connection to the generators and plunging the courtyard into darkness. When I turned to head for the building, Tori was there, facing me.
“Does this change your answer?” she asked.
“Can we talk about it later?”
We took off, running for safety.
The courtyard was nearly empty. It had taken only seconds. Tori and I would be the last ones to get inside. We ran to the back of the crowd that was jammed up near the door and had to wait while everyone squeezed through the opening.
I looked skyward, and my knees went weak.
“There they are,” I said, barely above a whisper.
It was a cloudless night with no moon. With Boston dark, the sky was alive with stars. Their sparkling light is what allowed us to see the silhouettes of the dark planes.
“My God,” Tori said.
There were hundreds of them. This was not a search for stragglers; it was a full-on assault.
Tori and I stood paralyzed, staring up at wave after wave of planes that appeared from the west. They flew in perfect formation, wing-to-wing and row after row.
“They look smaller,” Tori observed.
“Not smaller, higher,” I replied. “They’re way up there.”
The doorway was clear. Everyone was safely inside.
Tori and I stood frozen, staring up at the spectacle as the planes kept coming.
“This isn’t about us,” I finally declared. “They’re not here to attack, they’re going somewhere else.”
“They’re headed out over the Atlantic,” she said. “They could be going to Greenland, or England, or any one of a thousand other countries.”
We continued to gaze up at the massive fleet, no longer afraid for ourselves but thunderstruck by what this show of force might mean.
“Who is commanding them?” Tori wondered aloud, as much to herself as to me. “What is their mission?”
“Hopefully it’s to wipe out SYLO,” I offered.
She tore her gaze away from the planes and looked at me.
“How can you be so sure that would be a good thing?” she asked.
I wasn’t sure of that at all, but I wanted SYLO destroyed and didn’t much care who did it. I answered her with a noncommittal shrug and kept my eyes on the sky.
The trailing edge of planes finally passed over us as the entire force continued east, headed for some unknown destination and unthinkable mission.
“We have to tell the others it’s safe,” I said.
Tori snickered. “Seriously? It isn’t even close to safe. But at least they can all get back to their fun.”
We entered the building and announced that we weren’t under attack. The news traveled quickly, and the tension was soon gone, though nobody felt much like going back out to dance. The party was over.
Tori and I went to our bunks to find Kent, Jon, and Olivia already there. Nobody was in the mood to discuss what had happened, which was fine by me. All I wanted was to fall asleep and get the image of those planes out of my mind. Instead, I saw something that only added to my anxiety.
“Where’s Jim?” I asked.
The mattress on his bunk was rolled up, and his suitcase was gone.
“Was he at the dance?” I asked.
“I didn’t see him,” Jon said. “But I was busy.”
“He could have been,” Kent said. “It wasn’t like I was looking for him.”
I lay down on my cot but couldn’t relax. Where could Jim have gone? He might have moved to another cot, but that didn’t seem likely because most were occupied. I couldn’t let it go, so I got up and walked the length of the building, scanning each of the cots with the light from my headlamp.
Jim was definitely gone.
When I got back to my own cot, Tori was awake and waiting for me.
“Maybe he decided to leave,” she offered.
“No chance. He was here for the long haul. He told me so every chance he got. I can’t believe he’d just take off. He didn’t e
ven say goodbye.”
“Then he must still be around somewhere,” she said. “We’ll find him in the morning.”
I put my head down on the pillow, but there was no chance I was going to fall asleep quickly. Jim was a fixture at the Hall. He helped to organize it. He had no family left and nowhere else to go. Why would he change his mind and leave?
I eventually drifted off to sleep, and when I woke up the next morning I knew exactly what I had to do, which was the same thing I had done most every day. I was going to see who was leaving on the morning bus.
I tried to get out of my cot without disturbing anyone, but when I stood up, Tori was waiting there, fully dressed.
“I’m going with you,” she whispered.
“You don’t even know where I’m going.”
“You want to see if Jim gets on the bus.”
Enough said.
Soon we were walking together in the gray dusk of the chilly Boston morning. I didn’t miss the fact that she was clutching her gym bag.
“People leave every day,” she said. “Why is this bugging you?”
“Because he didn’t want to leave. If he’s getting out, something happened to change his mind, and I want to know what it was.”
“Glad to hear it,” she said.
“Why’s that?”
“It means there’s hope for you yet.”
We didn’t say another word until we reached the end of the long building and the spot where I’d watched the bus load up and pull out every morning.
There were no deliveries being made that day. There was only the big bus, empty, with the motor running, waiting for its passengers.
I led Tori to the same spot I’d gone every day, behind a large green dumpster that was tucked up next to the opposite building. From there we had a clear view of the bus and the building it was idling near.
“Why are we hiding?” Tori asked. “If this is all legit, we should go over there and bid the people a fond farewell.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “But if it’s all legit, why do they take off at the crack of dawn? They could just as easily pull out at noon.”
“You’re even more paranoid than I am,” Tori said.
“I’m not,” I argued. “I’m just logical, and there’s something illogical about this.”
The door to the building opened, and the same procedure began that I had been seeing every morning. The pretty cowboy named Ashley came out with a clipboard and stood by the bus. She was soon followed by a line of people who shuffled past, offered whatever information she asked for, then continued onto the bus.
Storm Page 12
