Surviving The Storm. Heather Woodhaven
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Aria fell flat on her stomach. David flattened right next to her as if he was sliding into home base. She turned her face away as the sand sprayed. “What is it?”
“I think I just spotted the guy you torched. I don’t think he’ll take kindly to seeing you again.”
She pressed up on her elbows, her eyes peering through the blades, like a cat on the hunt. “You’re the one who fumed him unconscious. I doubt he’d take kindly to seeing you again either.” She squinted. The man carried a giant red jug. “What’s he doing?”
“Looks like gas cans. I’d say he’s preparing to torch the center.”
She dropped her forehead into sandy hands and prayed the authorities would be able to stop him. The tall grasses rustled all around her. She jolted as fur brushed against her arms. “More bunnies.” She peeked up. They were all bounding for the rocks, up into the state park.
“Something must’ve spooked them. I can’t imagine they’re running from the men unless they’ve already started a fire.” He groaned. “I was thankful there weren’t any tourists around when they were trying to shoot us, but now, I’m wishing for some more people to help us.”
The wind gust whipped the long grasses against their heads and sprayed a layer of sand against her arms. “David, if the conference center is on fire, the rest of the campus is going to go up in flames. One building at a time—like dominoes.”
His hand still rested on her back, the heat from it making it hard for her to focus. “We’re not waiting around for that to happen. Start crawling.”
Twenty feet ahead was the corner of the cottage labeled the Skipper’s Quarters. Once behind that, they would be safe from view until the cottages. Her throat burned. It was George’s home, back when Barbara was still alive. His new wife, Valentina, insisted they live off campus, though, and he’d obliged. “At least we know Valentina isn’t here.”
“Good. How do we know that?”
“I don’t where they live, only that it’s not here anymore.” Her knees stung from the occasional pebble she crossed. “Ready?”
He nodded.
She straightened and sprinted. A hundred feet more and they’d be safe behind the Bible Study Lodge. She looked to David. He wasn’t nearly out of breath as she was, his long legs taking one stride for every two of her quick feet.
She rounded the corner and pressed her hands on top of her knees to catch her breath. “One more parking lot to cross.”
David looked over his shoulder. “Clear.”
She took a deep breath, and they were sprinting again. At her door, she slipped the card into the lock and the light flashed green. She dashed inside, David directly behind her. The walls around her provided a sense of safety, even if it was false, and she felt her guard weakening. She slumped to the ground. Her heart beat so hard and fast against her throat that nausea overwhelmed her. “I think I’m dying,” she said between gulps of air. Her hand flew to her mouth at the realization of what she’d just said. How could she be so insensitive? The events of the past half hour broke her. Her breath turned jagged, fighting to hold back sobs that threatened.
David’s knees dropped in front of her. “Oh, Aria.” He patted her shoulder clumsily.
“It’s such a stupid expression.”
“I know. I say it, too. It’s okay. We both need time to process, but unfortunately, we can’t afford that right now, honey.”
Her gaze flew to meet his from the term of endearment. Was he blushing?
David continued. “I don’t think we can afford to wait here for the cops when we don’t know how long it’ll take them. Can you tell me where your keys are and I’ll get them?” He stood up and looked around the room—everywhere, it seemed, but at her.
“No. I’ll get them.” She stood up, her heart still in her throat from the physical exertion. She walked past the living room into the small kitchenette. Her black purse sat on the counter. She rifled in it until she came across the jingling set. She slung the purse strap diagonally, and cringed at the sensation of her wet clothes stuck to her skin.
The framed family picture on her shelf caught her eye. It had been a gift from George when she first arrived. George had no idea the picture on the beach had been the last photo taken of her with her parents until he presented it. If there was a chance the building was going to catch on fire, she didn’t want this photo to go with it.
* * *
David noted Aria’s demeanor change when she picked up a framed photograph with great care. He couldn’t see who was in the photograph—a boyfriend perhaps? He hoped it was a family photograph, which prompted his desire to ask after her parents. They used to be good friends with his own parents, but his mom said they hadn’t heard a word from the Zimmermans ever since David cut ties with Aria. That had surprised him, as Aria’s father didn’t seem to be the type of guy to allow that to affect a long friendship.
Her dad was a man David genuinely respected, one of the men he hoped to emulate when starting his own business. He wanted to find a way to ask or peek at the photograph, but he had no right and he supposed it wasn’t the time to have such a conversation. David followed her into the kitchen and cleared his throat. “We need to go in case they succeed in starting a fire.”
Her eyes widened. “Computer!” She dropped the frame into her purse, spun and ran into the bedroom. “We need to check George’s thumb drive.”
“And we can do that as soon as I get you somewhere safe!” He clenched his jaw, angry with himself for letting her take her time. They should be far away by now.
She emerged from the hall. He recognized the silver behemoth of a laptop. She had received the computer as a present when she went away to college years ago. Her parents had it outfitted with the expensive engineering software she would need for her architecture courses. It was an out-of-date beast now.
Aria struggled to shove it in her purse. He blew out a breath. “Aria, just let me take it. We’re risking our lives standing around.”
She raised her eyebrows, and he knew it was a losing battle. Once she’d decided to do something there was no deterring her. They were both stubborn. They only chose to be obstinate about different things.
“I’m calling the police for a new ETA.” He raised the phone to his ear, but the floor started to shake. He struggled to stay upright.
The phone crashed to the ground. Aria’s eyes widened as she fell backward, her hands gripping the laptop.
He lunged for her and grasped her elbows but barely kept her standing as his own balance was put to the test. The lamp on the end table crashed to the ground. Little bits of drywall dropped from the ceiling like snowflakes.
The earthquake was stronger than any he had experienced in the past, and as a California boy, that was saying something.