Tempest (#1 Destroyers Series)

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  The cool shade of a palm tree washed over Janelle as her father parked beside it. Laverne Medical Center towered overhead with its seven floors. Janelle’s palms tingled with nerves. Maybe Vortex Guy would have some earth-shattering revelation about their birthmarks, if he was even here. With her luck, he’d been checked out and released to his parents already. Or maybe Leslie was right and the gray spiral was a rare gene floating around the Palm Grove area after all. That didn't explain anything else about yesterday, though.

  Janelle kept her mouth shut as they climbed out of the truck. If she brought it up to her dad, he'd find an excuse to drive them both back home.

  “I’ll go up and ask around for him. You wait here,” her father said once they’d entered the main lobby.

  “Why?” she asked. “I’m not a baby. I can do it myself.”

  “Just sit tight,” he said, turning away and heading for the elevator. "Don't wander off. Stay here where the security guys can see you."

  Janelle sighed and paced around the lobby. Why, all of a sudden, did her father think she couldn’t do anything on her own? He’d totally changed since the move.

  She plopped down in a chair, watching the same news stories on TV loop over and over: the crappy economy, another food recall, a big controversy over the comment of a talk show host, a celebrity in the hospital for a toe infection. Of course, Hurricane Gary made one of the slots, with two deaths already reported from the storm surge south of Palm Grove. Another meteorologist pointed out a new storm forming in the Atlantic, Tropical Storm Heather, but Janelle sagged with relief when he said it was supposed to weaken and die without coming near land. The weatherman moved on to talk about a long drought in the Northeast when someone tapped on Janelle’s shoulder.

  “You ready?”

  Janelle whirled around to face her dad. Wow, he’d taken forever. “So is—”

  “He’s on the third floor. I went up to let him know you’re coming. I'm guessing they've done some tests on him, but he seems to be okay." He stared up at the drought story as he dug into his pocket. “Why don’t you get him something out of that gift shop over there? Here’s ten.”

  “Thanks.” Janelle strode into the gift shop and agonized over her choices for several minutes. This was going to be her first impression, and if it did turn out this guy wasn't related to her, she didn't want to screw it up. But why did everything have to be pink? She didn't even like the color, and she had a feeling that Vortex Guy wouldn't, either. She decided on a teddy bear in a blue Get Well Soon T-shirt.

  “I hope he doesn’t think this is too girly.” Janelle pushed open the glass door and left the gift shop, hurrying out into the hallway. “Let’s—”

  A squeal rang out next to her, turning the heads of two passing women in scrubs. A janitor stopped to gawk, letting his trash can roll into the wall with a bang.

  Janelle turned to see what the sound was. She still had door handle, and the entire door hung from its top hinge. It was as if the Hulk or something had pulled it right off. She stood, stunned, unable to come up with an explanation. She couldn’t have done this. There was no way. “Uh…what?”

  “Oh, my.” The old woman from the gift shop counter darted out to look at the damage, then Janelle. “You’re not hurt, are you?” She took the door by the rim and pushed it back against the wall while Janelle watched, stunned. The woman’s arms quivered with the effort. “The maintenance guys just put this in last week. I’ll have to call them back down and give them an earful. Ted, can you call them down?”

  The janitor closed his mouth and reached for his phone.

  Janelle backed away and left the woman to pull the door to the side. “I am so sorry.” What else was she supposed to say?

  The woman stared at her and shook her head. "It's not your fault. It couldn't possibly have been."

  Her father’s hand came down on her shoulder, squeezing with urgency. “Let’s go. You need to be a bit more careful, honey.”

  She couldn’t tell if he was joking or serious, so she kept her mouth shut as they boarded the elevator and squeezed in next to a lunch cart. A mechanical failure. She'd just pulled on the door at the wrong time. That was it.

  They came to a small visitor’s lounge a minute later.

  “Go on.” Her dad pointed to the corner ahead. “Second to last room on the right. He didn't have any other visitors, so we should be fine."

  Finally. He trusted her to do something. Janelle sucked in a breath and started down the hall. She weaved past the beeping nurses’ station and dodged past carts, to where the door to the second-to-last room stood wide open. Her throat suddenly felt very dry. Janelle swallowed and squeezed the teddy bear tighter. Great. She was going to look nervous and stutter all her words.

  Nobody took up the first bed, but the second one had the curtain drawn. That had to be it. She stepped into the room. But then a woman spoke from behind the curtain, stopping Janelle in her tracks.

  “…disappointed in that, to say the least. You’ve completely wasted your full potential. You were doing great there for a few days, and it looked like we’d have something to celebrate, but no. When the big moment came, you just wimped out like so many of the others and—”

  “I did it. Why can’t you be happy with that?” Vortex Guy’s voice rose above hers. “I want to forget about it. Can I go back and live with my mom now?”

  “Your mother can’t take you. You know that.”

  “How do I know she didn’t stop drinking? All I have is your word.” Vortex Guy spoke like he wanted this woman to leave, and now.

  Janelle took a couple of steps back and bumped into the empty bed, hoping they couldn't hear her. Maybe she should leave. But no. She needed those answers. This was her only shot.

  “You’re under my roof until you turn eighteen,” the woman added. “I’ll pick you up sometime tomorrow. You’re only here because we have a secret to keep. I’m sure the doctors want to run tests to rule out everything under the sun and make their money. They must think I’m loaded.” A bony hand throttled the curtain from behind.

  “Uh…you are loaded."

  The woman's voice went from annoyed to something far scarier, something that almost sounded like a growl. “Don’t talk back to me. Ever.” The hand tugged the curtain all the way back.

  Janelle’s stomach lurched, but she had no time to move.

  A short-haired blonde woman in a gray business suit stormed away from the second bed and stopped inches away as if she'd hit a brick wall. Her gaze bore into Janelle. She had eyes the color of an approaching thunderstorm, gray and dark blue at the same time. “Who are you?”

  The growl was gone, but the question felt like it was poking right into her, down to her core. Janelle suppressed the urge to run out of the room and back down the hall to her dad. She held up the bear and focused on keeping her voice level. “I’m here to visit him. I…I helped pull him out of the storm yesterday. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

  The woman stared harder at her. Janelle took a step back, cursing herself for looking weak. But then the woman smiled as if she’d just found a winning lotto ticket lying on the ground. “Oh, I see. Feel free to take your time, sweetie. Really. It's no problem.” She hurried to the door, pulling a cell phone from her pocket and clicking her high heels on the linoleum.

  Janelle turned to watch her go. What had that mood swing been about? Maybe this woman was bipolar or something.

  Now wasn't the time to dwell on it. She took a deep breath and crossed the threshold to the other side of the room.

  Vortex Guy sat up in bed, stabbing at a steaming tray of hospital food with a plastic fork. Locks of black hair hung in his tanned face which must have spent a lot of time in the sun. He seemed like the kind of guy that would either join a garage band or hit the waves with a surfboard, definitely not the class jacket wearin
g type her dad approved of. No wonder he hadn’t been crazy about bringing her here.

  And he was pretty cute, now that he wasn’t soggy and unconscious.

  He didn't look up at her as she approached. Heat rose inside of her, but she pressed on.

  “Uh…hi.” Janelle crept over and set the bear down on his bedside table, wedging it between the phone and the lamp. “I'm the one who found you in the parking lot yesterday, but I’m not sure if you remember me. My dad's Lucas Duvall. He visited before I did.”

  He took a bite of his food and winced, like it was covered in mold or something. “Lucas? Yeah, he came up a few minutes before my guardian did.” Venom filled his voice at the word guardian. But then his voice softened. “Sorry. I’m not mad at you. You must be Janelle.” He stopped impaling the carrots and brushed the hair from his face. He had a deep pair of hazel eyes that made her feel funny, in a way that had nothing to do with the events of the past two days.

  Janelle sat and sank back into the cushion of the seat, face burning. Why did she have to blush now? This was uncomfortable enough.

  Vortex Guy pushed his food away. She didn’t blame him, because it didn’t look that good. “Just moved here?” he asked.

  Janelle’s shoulders sagged. The words came easier now that he was asking the questions. Maybe this wouldn’t be a disaster after all. “Yeah. My dad must’ve told you. I guess he thought I wasn’t mature enough to tell you that myself.”

  A pause as Vortex Guy stared down at his hands. “So you live in Palm Grove?” He smiled, but she couldn't miss the strain in it.

  "Yes." She had to get to the point before anyone else came back, like that scary bipolar woman. So she nodded and asked, “What’s your name, anyway?”

  He grimaced as if the carrots hadn’t agreed with him. “You’ll laugh and make fun of me like the whole hospital has this morning. I really don't need any more of that.”

  “Unless it’s Ebenezer or something, I won’t.” Even then, she wouldn't.

  He looked down at the sheets again and muttered something.

  “What did you say?” She leaned closer. “I didn’t hear you.”

  He stared at her, suddenly intense. “Gary. My name’s Gary. Go ahead.”

  Gary. Okay. It was another creepy thing she could add to the list of creepy things that had happened since moving here. A shudder swept through her. “That’s not a bad name. And it’s common, too, so that’s probably why they picked it for that storm.” The knot in her stomach loosened as she listened to her own words. “I went to middle school with a kid named Curtis. And when Hurricane Curtis happened, everybody picked on him for a week.”

  Gary gave a weak smile. “Thanks. Actually my full name’s Gareth, but nobody calls me that. I'm glad, too. Sounds like a soap opera name.”

  Janelle listened to a squeaky cart rolling past in the hall. She picked at a sliver on the armrest. Now came the hard part. “When I was pulling you up off the ground yesterday, I saw something on your arm. A mark.” Janelle leaned forward as Gary’s eyes widened. “Like this.” She stood and rolled up her left sleeve, feeling oddly exposed.

  “Oh.” He glanced down again. “I guess that’s weird.”

  That’s it? Oh? Janelle sat, letting out a breath. “Isn’t it weird that two people have the exact same one and in the exact same place? I grew up thinking this was a fluke, but I don’t think so now. I bet you know something more about it. Is it a family trait or something? A gene?"

  "No. We definitely don't look related."

  "Then what do you think it is?" She let her sleeve fall back down, glad for its cover.

  Gary’s mouth twitched.

  Spit it out, she thought, heart pounding. Come on.

  Instead, he pulled the blankets over himself. “I’m feeling really whipped right now. I haven’t fully got my energy back and I’ve got to snooze again. Thanks for the bear.” He settled down with a rustling sound and went silent.

  Janelle’s hopes hit the ground with a sickening thud.

  “Gary?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Gary! Come on! You know something.”

  Still nothing.

  She reached out and shook him on the arm. His whole body swayed on the bed, but he refused to say a word. Janelle stood next to him and waited, holding her breath as she watched the second hand on the clock tick on the wall. Gary kept breathing heavily, pretending he was asleep.

  He wasn’t. Just like her dad, he was dodging her questions.

  She had come all this way for nothing. Whatever window had opened between them had slammed shut, thanks to this mark on her arm.

  Stomach heavy, she rose and skulked out of the room. The sound of ringing phones and beeping equipment faded behind her as she walked into the visitor’s lounge, dragging her feet.

  “Anything exciting happen?” Her father tossed a science magazine back to the table. It landed facedown next to a kids’ puzzle.

  “No. He didn’t talk long.” Janelle raised her chin. There was no use in letting him see her disappointment. It would only earn her a lecture on letting her emotions get out of control again. But maybe, she could think about this for a bit, and go back and force some answers out of Gary a bit later. “Can I go say goodbye to him in a little bit?”

  But her father wasn’t listening. His gaze floated out to the hallway and he blanched. The light in his eyes vanished as if the sun itself had hidden behind a cloud.

  Janelle looked to where he was. The tall blonde woman stood at the corner, talking to a young man in sunglasses who breathed heavily as if he'd just run up all seven flights of the hospital's stairs. She tugged on the guy’s sleeve, pointing towards Gary’s room. The two of them ran down the hallway Janelle had vacated a minute before. If she didn't know better, it looked like they were rushing to intercept someone.

  Her father stood and took her arm, leaving no space for arguments. “Come on, Janelle. We’re leaving. Now.”

  Chapter Three