Banished To Earth Book Two, Souls Adrift (17)

Alone in their bedroom, or so they struggled to believe, Davin yearned to touch Pry. But every time he reached out to her, he saw, in his mind, a hairless, grey hand with webbed fingers where his human hand should be. He also saw her flinch away.

 

   “Tucker was wrong. I did see a strange shadow, a living shadow.” Her eyes darted about the softly lit room as she spoke.

 

   Davin knew she was deflecting, not just her body, but her mind away from Stayner’s disgusting, invisible presence. There was, after all, nothing left to say about Stayner. Confrontation, action was their only option. At some point, they would have to return to the beach, a risky but necessary choice. According to Silhouette, Stayner could not tolerate the sun for very long. An advantage for sure, but Leviathan, which is what they came to call the sea dragon, was there as well. Maybe it would eat Stayner. A happy possibility, or was it?

 

The shadow, now that was something new. Nevertheless, they could only assume it was some new disturbing aspect of the shark man bleeding into their world. Of course they were wrong…

 

   “He is here.” She finally said.

 

    “Only because I am here.”

 

    “Davin, do not say that.”

 

     “We both know as long as Stayner lives, I threaten you, and no doubt the others too.”

 

      “The werewolf, again?”

 

      “No Pry, I'm certain I can control it. It is your warrel after all. It loves you.”

 

      “But Stayner won’t stop, that shadow thing you saw. It’s gotta be him. That doesn’t sound right, though. Doesn’t seem like Stayner, but then I didn’t see it, didn’t feel it either.”

 

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    “If not Stayner, then what?”

 

  “What? Davin paused. “No.” he continued, as he sat up, scanned the room, studied the greyness, then eased back down. “Not what. Who?” He breathed the last few words out, without knowing what he was saying.

 

   But Pry heard them. “Who else?”

 

   Davin did not answer. He was afraid of what else might crawl out of his mouth.

 

   Back-to-back, they finally fell asleep.

 

  And as they slept, clouds formed over their bed and over the coastal plain…

 

   A huge hurricane churned offshore. Even though it was prime hurricane season, they knew nothing about it. The weather was the least of their concerns. Its angry tendrils lashed the coast, while they slept completely unaware of what was barreling toward them or hovering over them.

 

    Swathes of heavy rain and high winds lashed and roared as they scraped the outer banks. Unfortunately, the barrier islands were no match for the storm. They rarely were. Its ‘arms ‘of wind and rain whipped around its placid hollow eye with unbridled fury. The barriers’ tiny strips of sand, homes and pavement were too low and flat to weaken or deflect the unnamed cyclone. The handful of Fall survivors just called it bad, as they huddle beneath overpasses and inside abandoned buildings.  

 

    At three A.M. the storm slammed against Trudy’s house. Winds topping seventy miles an hour pummeled her two-storied home and barn. She leapt from her bed when her clay flowerpots shattered against the front of the house.

 

     Tom, true to his survivalist form, had fortified the house and barn against the easily predicted

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storms, North Carolina was known for. Bolted into concrete and heavy wooden beams, not even the storm's strongest gusts could dislodge any of the outdoor furniture.  

 

    Clay flowerpots notwithstanding, the property suffered only superficial damage. Still, one of Trudy’s front windows had been shattered. That and several strips of vinyl siding, dangling from the home’s north-facing wall, were the only significant injuries to the house.

 

    Her generator was shielded from the storm in its own well-ventilated ‘house’ on the back patio. Power was not a problem. If only Tom had cared for himself the same way he cared for his property. But he didn’t. His house stood, while he lay rotting in the ground.

 

   The exploding pots had awakened the entire household. They nearly collided in their mad rush to find each other. Everyone, especially Nikki, was desperate to see the others' smiling faces.  

 

    And they did, on the stairs.    

 

   “Wow,” Trudy said. “guess we got too used to our gadgets and gizmos telling us what to watch out for.”

 

    Tucker, already fully dressed, was, as always, ready to go outside and inspect the property. “Think the house is good.”

 

    “Not quite.” Trudy injected, “My bedroom window is busted in, even got glass on my bed. There’s a big roll of heavy plastic and a few sheets of plywood in the barn.”

 

   Davin and Pry, still dressed in their pajamas, hurried back upstairs. “Let me get dressed,” Davin yelled back as he and Pry dashed back to their room.

 

    “Not much for manual labour,” Silhouette said through a yawn.

 

  “Just need some plastic over my window, tonight. Whatever else there is ‘kin wait ‘til tomorrow,” Trudy said as she pulled her robe up tight around her. Trudy glanced over at the scantily dressed Huntress. But didn’t say anything.  

 

   Silhouette, slightly dressed in an oversized T-shirt, shrugged and smiled sweetly at Trudy. “Oh, I’m good. I don’t get chills anymore, so…”

 

  Beth, also conservatively dressed in pajamas, rolled her eyes at Trudy. “Come on Nikki, I bet Miss Trudy has some hot chocolate waiting for you.”

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  “I get to stay up?”

 

  “Yeah, for a little while. We’re all kinda wired now, and I can still hear the wind and rain beating against the house.” She looked down at her baby, “but no worries, I'm pretty sure the worst has passed.”

 

  “Goodie.”

 

      A few minutes later, Davin and Pry emerged from their room. They hurried downstairs. Hearing voices coming from the kitchen, Pry left Davin at the bottom of the stairs.

 

  He was just about to shift to the barn when Tucker stepped through the front door. “You've got to see this.” His eyes were swollen with concern.

 

    A moment later, they were standing on the front porch, rain pelting their faces, wind whipping their dusters like warning flags on the beach. A roll of plastic lay on the porch. Of course, Tucker had finished his chore despite any obstacles or distractions.

 

    It was not quite three thirty in the morning, but the house was casting a long dark shadow over the front yard. It was as if it were sunset, or the sun was somehow rising early in the west. That is if the sun had suddenly turned blue….