Storm warning, p.11
Storm Warning, page 11
My gut starts churning. “What about him?”
“I think—no, I know—the other day…I saw him talking to Stanley outside the building. I said I hadn’t seen him, but I think I did.”
“Stanley and the man who said your name when he pounded on your door?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Are you sure, Hazel? Because you don’t always—”
“I’m not crazy, Jacob. And I’m not blind either.”
“What do you know about Lloyd?”
“He’s an old crank.”
I keep any sarcastic comments to myself. “Is that all you know about him?”
“He keeps to himself. I wish more people would.”
“Did you know he’s married? I mean, kind of.”
Hazel’s eyes brighten. “Well, that old dog. There really are only two kinds of old men, Jacob. Dead and dirty.”
“His wife is sick, Hazel.”
“But, as I was saying, Jacob, I’m worried about Stanley and that man—”
The two bulbs flicker slowly on and off, which means the backup system is starting to work. A dead patient coming back to life. When they come on all the way, they’re so bright I have to cover my eyes and squint.
The elevator follows suit, slowly lurching to life. The car shakes. I reach out to steady Hazel. We’re moving again. Finally.
The button for the second floor is the only one illuminated on the control panel.
“Oh, thank God.” Hazel grips my arm with one hand and raises the other to her chest. “We’re saved from this death trap.”
The wheels grind loudly, but at least we’re moving. Slowly as ever, but moving.
The lights above the door count down our progress.
When we get to the third floor, I hold my breath. Moving from the third to the second feels like it takes one hundred years, but eventually the car comes to a stop on two, and the doors magically thud open. Rain spits inside the elevator and brushes my face.
The light from inside the elevator spills onto the landing, and Hazel and I come face-to-face with a man staring back at us.
The so-called security guy.
He’s waiting for us like we’re old friends.
Thirty
I put my arm across Hazel, using it as a barrier between her and the man.
We have to get away.
I shouldn’t go. It’s important to be with Jordan and Mackenzie. The others. If everyone is here on the second floor—and so is this guy—I need to stay. But something primal kicks in. Fight or flight.
I hit the button for another floor—any floor—but before the doors close, the security guy throws his hand out, preventing the doors from shutting.
“Hold on,” he says.
“Back off,” I say.
But he stands firm, his rain-soaked hair dripping into his face.
“Whoa,” the security guy says. “Easy, now. I think we got off on the wrong foot.”
“That tends to happen when you grab someone for no reason.” I hold up my arm, revealing the scratch on my wrist.
“Sorry about that,” he says. “I just wanted to talk.”
“You have a funny way of talking. And you still haven’t told me: Who are you?”
“I did tell you. I work security for the building.” His hand still blocks the elevator door. He presses his other hand flat against his chest. “I’m Tyler Rigdon. I work security for the Bennets. I came out here to check on the building. And now…Look, I’m stuck here now. I know you’re friends with Dallas, and he didn’t take kindly to anything or anyone involved with the Bennets. When I saw you, I was worried you would give me a hard time. I was being careful.”
Earlier, this guy stood above me in the stairwell. Loomed over me like a grizzly bear. But now, in the door of the elevator, we’re on even footing. He’s a little taller than I am, but not much. He takes his hand off the door and leans closer to me. “I’m sorry about Dallas, by the way. I really am.”
“How do you know about that?”
Before he answers, I know. Stanley.
As if he can read my mind, Stanley comes walking up. Behind him are Jordan and Mackenzie. To say my heart lifts would be to make the understatement of the decade. I could reach the tenth floor without benefit of an elevator or stairs.
I want to go to them, pull them to me, but everyone is staring at me. Hazel is behind me, saying my name.
“Jacob? Jacob?”
“What is it, Hazel?”
“I told you—that’s the man, the one who pounded on my door. The one who was talking to Stanley a few days—”
“Hazel—”
“I did knock on your door,” Tyler says. “And I did say your name. I came here to check on the tenants, and I was particularly concerned about you…. We were worried you might need help.”
“You think I’m an invalid too.”
“And, yes, I have talked to Stanley before,” Tyler says with an exaggerated nod. “I was out here checking on things the other day, and Stanley was kind enough to answer a few of my questions.”
Tyler’s personality has undergone a shift from when I ran into him on the stairs. He’s trying hard—very hard—to convince me, to convince all of us, that he intends no harm, that he’s just a regular guy doing his job. Is he trying too hard? I’m not sure.
“This is all very sweet,” Mackenzie says, “but it’s cold out here. And wet.” She shivers, a bit dramatically, it seems, and I have to resist a desire to roll my eyes. Jordan pulls her close, rubbing her arms. “Can we go inside now? I mean, really, can we?”
“I think we should,” Jordan says.
“Everyone is waiting,” Stanley says.
A giant gust of wind blows down the walkway, causing the building to creak loudly. It’s as if it wants to encourage us to get moving.
“Jacob?” Hazel says behind me, and I know what she’s thinking. Don’t do it. Don’t trust that man.
Just then, a palm frond comes flying down the landing, hitting Stanley in the backs of his legs.
“Jacob?”
I turn to Hazel. “It’ll be fine. We need to stick together. It’s safer.”
“But, Jacob—”
“We’ll talk once we’re inside, Hazel.”
Thirty-One
8:40 p.m.
We all file into Lloyd and Catalina’s apartment. The wind blows the door shut as soon as we are inside.
There isn’t much room. Catalina’s bed takes up most of the small space. We shuffle in and spread around the end of it. I say hello to Nina and Kiara, whom I haven’t seen since the day before when we ran into one another at the only gas station on the island. That feels like a million years ago now.
Lloyd emerges from the bedroom holding a weather radio, the announcer’s tinny, droning voice laying out the worsening threat from Kylie.
The storm is approaching peak intensity now as the outer bands begin to lash the coast. Anyone in the path of the storm right now is in grave danger. The next couple of hours will be the most harrowing of all….
“Oh, crap,” Stanley says.
“Shh.” Lloyd glares at him, and Stanley shuts up.
Find shelter immediately….
Stay off roads and away from flooded areas….
Two hurricane lamps burn on the kitchen table, their flames casting a flicker of orange light onto the ceiling and walls. A thick candle with three wicks sits on Catalina’s bedside table, its flames quivering. The air in the apartment is close and humid, slightly musty.
Lloyd sets the radio down and comes past me to bolt and chain the door. “Okay, we’re all inside. Do you want to barricade the door, Jake?”
“We should—”
“Wait.” It’s Stanley. “Ethan isn’t here yet.”
“He’s not?”
“He’s trying to get Isaac out from under the bed.”
“Isaac?” I say. “You mean the cat?”
“Ethan won’t leave without him.”
“Well, he can’t bring a cat in here,” Lloyd says. “Catalina’s allergic, and she can’t have anything disrupting her breathing.”
The bell quickly rings out from the bed. We all turn. Catalina shakes her head, the candlelight illuminating dark circles under her eyes. She brushes her hand across her face and shakes her head with more strength.
“Looks like Cat doesn’t mind the cat,” Stanley says.
Lloyd growls and shakes his head in defeat.
“Well,” Nina says, “maybe we should all get to know each other.” She looks around the room, her eyes moving from one person to the next. “I’m not sure I’ve been properly introduced to all of our neighbors. Not to mention our guest.” Her eyes pause for a moment on Tyler. “It looks like we’re going to be spending the night here, so we might as well get to know each other.”
“Maybe more,” Stanley says, voice bleak.
“Okay, this will kill a little time.” I point at Nina. “Why don’t you start, and then everyone else can introduce themselves.”
Lloyd growls again, more loudly.
We all ignore him and go ahead.
Nina clearly enjoys leading us off. “Well, okay, I’m Nina Savage. I’m originally from Saint Paul, Minnesota, but I came down here in high school—to live with my dad.” My eyes go to Mackenzie. What does she think when she hears that? Does she regret coming to Florida now that we’re stuck in a hurricane with a killer on the loose? “That was about twenty years ago, and I’ve been here ever since. Oh, we brought a bag of stuff to eat.” She bends down, lifts a bulging canvas bag. “There’s peanut butter. Crackers. Granola bars. Some fruit. I thought about bringing the fish we have in the fridge, since the power was likely to go out. Now I wish I had brought it.” Nina’s close to my age and slender. Her cheeks flush in the dark even though she never seems shy. “Oh, and this is my wife, Kiara. Do you want to introduce yourself, hon?”
Kiara shrugs and rolls her eyes. “It looked like you were going to use all the time.”
“Oh, hush.”
“I’m Kiara Savage. I’m married to Nina. Obviously.” She lets her gaze fall on Nina, and the two of them lock eyes. All of a sudden the room is charged with so much electricity it feels awkward to watch the two of them sharing this moment. I glance at Jordan, who shrugs back at me before Kiara finishes. “I’m from Sarasota, the other side of the state. I got laid off a few years ago. Been trying to find something permanent ever since, but I’ve had no luck.”
“Oh, yeah,” Nina says, “I got laid off too.” Nina must sense the question we all have—They were both laid off?—because she explains, “We worked together. At an indie bookstore. The place was limping along before the pandemic. When COVID hit…they closed pretty much right away. Anyway, that’s where we met. Where did you meet your wife, Lloyd?”
“That’s not important right now. We’re in the middle of a hurricane.”
“Come on, Lloyd,” Nina says. “Everyone’s playing.”
“No.”
The bell rings.
“No,” Lloyd says. “I’m not doing this.”
Before Lloyd gets too angry and decides to run us all out of his apartment, I step in. “Let’s leave Lloyd alone. He’s doing us a big favor. I’ll introduce my family next.”
Jordan nods and smiles at everyone when I say her name. Mackenzie makes a somewhat sarcastic—I imagine—half bow, like she works at Medieval Times.
But no one cares. Everyone oohs and aahs, thrilled to finally meet my wife and daughter.
“Oh,” says Kiara, “isn’t she precious? She looks just like you, Jake.”
“She looks like a nice cross between both of them. Very pretty.”
Even in the dim candlelight, I can see Mackenzie avert her eyes.
“And to think, this whole time I thought you were making them up, Jake,” Nina says with a laugh.
Before I can respond, a raspy voice emerges from the darkness. “I’m Sawyer.”
Everyone cranes their neck trying to find him. Sawyer sits on a rickety-looking dining room chair. He’s younger than I am but looks twenty years older. He wears blue sweatpants with a white stripe up each side and an oversized bright orange University of Florida sweatshirt. His right arm rests on a metal cane, the kind with four prongs that touch the ground. Sawyer got injured on the job. His hip. He’s been on disability as long as I’ve been here.
He holds up a plastic grocery bag. “I don’t eat much, but I brought some…Well, there are some Pop-Tarts and frozen burritos. I guess we can’t heat them up.” He shrugs. “You don’t have to worry too much about me. What I want to know is, who’s that guy?”
Sawyer jerks his thumb toward Tyler, who seems to have receded into the walls, as if he doesn’t want anyone to notice him.
“That’s the guy I told you about, Kiara,” Nina says, squinting at Tyler. “You were sneaking around here the other day. You work for the Bennets, right?”
“Yes, I do.”
The mood shifts rapidly, like a school of fish darting one way and then another beneath the waves.
“The Bennets?” Lloyd says. “No, you can’t be here.”
“Now, hold on, Lloyd,” I say. “We have to put all that aside. Tyler’s stuck here like the rest of us, and he deserves to be safe just like anyone else. So he’s going to stay.”
“I don’t like it, Jacob,” Hazel says. “I don’t like him. Or what he represents.”
“Hazel, please.”
“But I told you—”
“Hazel, enough.”
Everyone grows quiet. That awkward feeling when one person snaps at another and no one quite knows what to say descends over all of us. Hazel averts her eyes, looking as hurt as a kicked puppy. I immediately regret speaking so harshly. It’s the same way I felt when I talked back to my parents as a teenager and quickly wished I could take it back. I didn’t have the maturity to do it then, but I do now.
“I’m sorry, Hazel. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just—” My face flushes in the dark. I’m sure no one can see, but I can feel it.
“Wait just a minute,” Sawyer says. “Ethan isn’t here because of Isaac. But where’s Alaina? Shouldn’t she be here?”
Stanley looks at me, his lips pressed tight. For a change. He’s not going to say anything. He’s going to let me handle it.
“That’s a good question,” Kiara says. “Do you want me to go look for her?”
“And what about Dallas?” Nina asks.
Now I look at Stanley. I’d assumed he told everyone what happened to Dallas when he went to round them up, but he gives me a subtle shake of his head. Then nods at me.
The ball’s in my court.
All I want to do is go home. But I can’t.
All these lives are in my hands.
Including the lives of my wife and daughter.
As strange as it all seems, it appears as though Stanley was right.
I’m in charge.
On top of that, a killer lurks on this island. One who could very well be intent on harming all of us. A killer who may come directly after me.
A killer who may be in the room with us.
A killer one of us—even I—may have to face to save the others.
I’m in charge…yes…one of the loneliest feelings I’ve ever had.
PART two
Thirty-Two
8:55 p.m.
All eyes turn my way.
I’m not a leader. Or a boss. I’m just a regular guy.
This is Dallas’ role. The kind of thing he excelled at.
When my dad died, I immediately felt so much older. Not because of my chronological age, but because my safety net was gone. All of a sudden I was the oldest person in my family. I was an adult. Technically I’d been an adult for years. I even had a family of my own. But it always felt like Dad was there if I needed him. Ready to jump in and tell me what to do. Ready to pick me up if my car broke down or to give me advice about insurance.
Dad stuff.
Since my mother died when I was in high school, and I don’t have any siblings, I needed to make all the decisions about Dad’s estate. But the whole time I felt like I was pretending. Like I was pretending to be my dad.
And that’s exactly how I feel now, with everyone looking at me with expectation in their eyes. But I know the truth. This is a mistake—someone else should be standing here. But there isn’t anyone else.
Just me.
Jordan and Mackenzie are both looking at me, expecting me to know what to do, how to take care of all these people I’ve known for months.
The building creaks and groans around us as the wind increases. The faces arrayed before me look terrified. Their eyes dart from side to side. They look up at the ceiling and down at the floor. The muscles in their jaws clench.
My fellow tenants know we’re in trouble. They know the building is in bad shape. And on top of that, I have more bad news to share.
“I guess it’s time I tell you all what’s happened.”
It feels like I’ve swallowed a handful of dust.
I tell them about Dallas. Those who haven’t heard the news yet gasp. The fear on their faces is replaced by shock. Everyone looks around, as if searching for a culprit. A brittle tension weaves its way through the room.
“I know this is upsetting to hear. But there’s no way to get off the island now, so we just need to hunker down and wait for this hurricane to pass.”
The tension increases. It seems sharper, like something that could cut a person.
“Are you telling us Dallas was murdered?” Nina asks, a hand pressed to her chest. “Is that what you’re saying?”
My heart clenches. I’m grateful no one can see me trembling. “It does appear that way. It was probably a looter. They may not have known anyone was here.”
