Sun Catch Her (Book 1: Three Rivers Deep series) COMPLETE

Chapter Five

The radio was on, faint, tuned in to the national news. I stirred, fading in and out of consciousness. Huddled on top of my crumpled sleeping bag, I had fallen asleep minutes after tumbling onto the Thunderbird's backseat, out cold for who knows how long before I became aware of the car's radio. Or, at least, that was where I supposed the quiet voices to be coming from; I could very well have been dreaming.

The voices were excitable, talking rapidly over the top of one another, talking about—I rolled over and hung an arm off the seat— discussing an ongoing investigation into some sort of major explosion?

So many things going to ruin. What was this world coming to? Groping around on the floor, I went to grab for my Mad Hatter doll, but then I remembered that he, too, was ruined. Gone. Forever.

Shit! Damn it! I buried my face in the sleeping bag and silently sobbed myself back to sleep.

Face and sleeping bag still damp, it wasn't until the sound of car tires hitting wet pavement with an obtrusive swoosh that I thrashed around, my awareness struggling to the surface again, bringing with it a single thought: Indy was right about the storm.

I jolted upright and gasped, my ever-present concern for severe weather awakening faster than the rest of me. Panic rose, constricting my chest, the fear making it difficult not to hyperventilate. I pushed the sleeping bag away because it was smothering me.

Taking slow, deliberate breaths, my hearing picked up on the windshield wipers making smooth, delayed passes over wet glass. Their speed was slow, probably clearing water dripping from the many trees that were overhanging the road. Maybe the storm passed through while we were at the Emlenton Plaza? Perhaps the worst of it was over?

I wrung my hands around a sleeping bag corner, twisting the material tight as I begged. Please, oh please.

"Talk about being a tad over excessive. All of the lights are out in the valley," came a faint voice from the front. Indy shifted in her seat, talking to herself.

Petroleum Valley; we were finally here. "Swell." I exhaled, thinking there was nothing better than arriving at an unfamiliar place, after dark, without power. A crack of thunder rolled overhead. I let out a little yip and cowered.

The car slowed to a brief stop before cutting across the road and entering a driveway, its tires crunching as they dug into loose rock. The driveway rose with the incline of a steep hill and then leveled out.

Through half-closed eyes, I could just make out the silhouettes of two houses. They stood side by side on a small plot of land carved level in the middle of the hillside. Both places were dark, which was to be expected with the power being out, but even though both houses were in shadow, they seemed to be identical. Twin houses?

Indy drifted past the first house and turned left after the second. "Nice. The landlord was kind enough to leave the automatic door up for us," she noted as our headlights illuminated a one stall garage beside the back corner of the house, situated on the edge of the tree line.

Rain began hitting the windshield with steady thumps as we drove into the tiny garage.

Indy jammed the gearshift into park, taking care to leave the headlights on so we could see. "Hurry up and grab the few bags you need, Aurora. If you're quick, you can make it inside before it really begins to pour."

She didn't have to tell me twice. Motions hasty, I gathered my travel bag and pillow and balled up my sleeping bag under an arm.

I bolted out of the car, bouncing from foot to foot on smooth concrete. "Come on, come on," I urged her to move faster.

Indy had promised during the long drive here that I was getting the whole second floor of the new house to myself, the space including one master bedroom, a master bath, and one whale of a walk-in closet.

Guess which one I was heading for?

Indy handed me a key, along with a flashlight. "Here, have at it. I'm going to grab some stuff from the trunk. Use the backdoor. I asked the landlord to let the movers leave our stuff in the front."

"Okay." I clicked on the flashlight and dashed out of the garage.

Desperately I plunged the key into the unfamiliar lock, getting the door to open on my first try, and then, dummy me, in my haste to get out of the weather, I hurried inside without using the flashlight.

My feet tangled in some unseen object and I was laid out flat with a thud, cracking my head against the floor. Owwww!

With one hand pressed to the throbbing spot, I refused to let a little thing like a concussion slow me down. I rolled to my feet and kept moving, taking several unsteady steps across linoleum—I seemed to be in the kitchen—to gather my things and scoop up the flashlight from where it had skidded across the floor. Its narrow beam pointed in the direction of the front room, where the movers had made a cardboard mountain out of our stuff. I headed for the staircase.

Kicking off my shoes when I reached the top floor, my feet found the cool smoothness of wood flooring. I sent the light streaming before me, taking note of a queen-sized bed that was situated in the middle of the back wall as I walked with caution across the unfamiliar long room before I came to a halt with my fingers resting atop the handle of what had to be the closet. Tears threatened to spill over and my bottom lip quivered. I was such a coward.

Dropping my duffle bag on the floor and chucking my sleeping bag at the bed, I clicked off the flashlight to pitch the bedroom into total darkness. Never let anyone see you hide in a closet. Not even yourself.

I hugged my pillow to my chest as the entire room was lit up by several lightning bursts before plunging back into darkness. Who needs courage, anyway?

I yanked the door open, shut it behind me, then lowered myself, shaking, to the floor. Another ka-boom shook the house, and I pressed my palms to my ears.

"Please, go away," I whispered, panting as a wave of nausea rolled through me.

The storm answered back with a succession of rumbles and a gnashing of teeth.

"I said go away!" I shouted, throwing my head back.

The word away shook apart as I broke down,sobbing. Please, just—make it go away. Hot tears trailing over cheeks, I clung to the pillow for dear life while I waited for the storm to pass.

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