"𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞."
Lou Johnston and Eddy "Boone" Higgins, two former best friends whose paths diverged after high school. Now, years later, they find themselves inexplicably draw...
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It was quiet, too quiet. That kind of eerie calm that sinks in before everything breaks loose. I hated it. Every time it got too quiet, my mind filled in the blanks with the worst possible outcomes—images of Boone lying still under a dark sky, or Dani swept up in a twister, gone before any of us could reach her. I thought after all these years I’d be used to it. But then again, the maniac changed things. He shifted the storm, and suddenly it wasn’t just about the weather anymore. It was personal.
I sat at the edge of the long wooden table, my knee bouncing restlessly. The others were scattered around the room, each of us restless in our own way. Jase was over by the map, muttering under his breath as he ran a finger along potential paths the next storm might take. Lily was picking at her fingernails, staring at the TV that played the weather radar in the background. Lainey and Tyler sat next to each other, their knees barely brushing. They weren’t much for PDA, but there was always this subtle thing between them—small touches, quick glances. It was comforting, knowing someone always had your back. I didn’t know if Boone and I could ever be like that.
Dani leaned back in her chair, tossing a pen between her hands. “We’re running out of time,” she said, her voice cutting through the thick silence. “Storm’s gonna hit in a couple of hours. What’s the plan?”
Everyone looked at me. The unspoken leader of this ragtag group, I guess. I tried not to let the weight of their stares settle too deep in my bones.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But we can’t keep going in circles like this. We’re one step behind him every damn time, and it’s getting riskier. We barely made it out of the last storm in one piece.”
Jase stopped tracing the map and turned to face me, arms crossed over his chest. “So what? We pack up and go home? Call it quits?”
“No,” I said, maybe a little too quickly. I cleared my throat. “No, but we have to be smarter about this. The maniac’s not just messing with our data—he’s out there, waiting for us to screw up.”
“Lou’s right,” Tyler said from his spot next to Lainey. “We can’t just go charging into this one blind.”
Dexter, who’d been sitting in the corner, quietly listening, chimed in, “Then what do we do? If we stop chasing, he wins. He’s counting on us being scared.”
I chewed on my lip, trying to focus. Boone was out in the garage, checking the gear, and it was hard not to feel this pull in my gut to go to him, to make sure we were okay after our last fight. But I couldn’t. Not yet.
