“So you're uncle's a new Outbreaker, too?” Dorian leans back on the swing, mouth gaping open at me. “There's at least three of you, then.”
“Four, maybe.” I dig my feet into the dust and stop my swing. “They might have got Kyle, too. Our storm chasing guide.”
“He sure didn't look like he knows yet on his website,” Tommy says. “Wait. That doesn't make sense. Since he's around storms so much, wouldn't he have been the first to find out? I'm sure his next clients got a show.”
“His van got destroyed,” I tell them. “So he wouldn't be chasing anymore this season, would he?”
“Maybe we should contact him. And say something like 'Hey, you might not want to go near storms for the rest of your life.'” Tommy takes the third swing. “The thing is, he wouldn't believe us.”
Dread creeps into my insides. I feel for his next customers.
Dorian stops swinging and kicks the dirt. “I'm still looking for that farm even if your uncle doesn't find it. I'm serious. Even if I have to go by myself.” There's so much fight in his words that I'm not going to say anything to hold him back. He's crossed a line. It's impossible for him to stop now.
And I understand one hundred percent.
“So am I.” I didn't come out all this way to not face my maker. My maker. The word has a whole new meaning now.
Even though I've known Dorian for a day, there's a tense string linking us both. I look away at the trees surrounding the park, but I'm all too aware of Dorian on the swing next to me, checking me out.
He's close. As close as he was the moment before we merged...
“What time is it?” Tommy asks, cutting into the awkward silence.
I pull out my phone. Turn it on. It's going on four. Uncle Cassius needs to return in an hour. “Late enough for me to start getting worried.”
“Like I said, lots of farms.” Dorian's tone goes from battle ready to reassuring. “He'll want to check them all before he comes back.”
I can't shake the feeling in my gut, like sewer water's rising higher and higher and I'm about to drown. “Highway 54 can't have that many.”
“Especially close enough to the road for that woman to take her to the farm and back so fast,” Tommy adds. He walks over and stands between me and Dorian, taking the chains of both our swings. “If he's not back in an hour, I say screw it. We go out and look for him.”
I agree. More than agree. “I wish he'd taken me along. I hate waiting here.”
“That's what happens when your family's overprotective,” Dorian says. “Dad's got a huge lecture ready for me when I get home. He hates it when I go out for very long.”
“Parents. Gotta love them,” I say. “Geez, you're what? Sixteen? Seventeen?”
“Sixteen.” He faces the sky and sighs. “It's got to do with something that happened a few years ago in my old town. My parents never got over it.”
“You mean the one you mentioned yesterday?” I lean to see around Tommy, who lets go of our swings.
“Yeah. Long story. It's not a threat anymore, though, so I don't see what their problem is.”
If there's anything that Outbreakers have to be scared of besides hurting people, I can't think of it. “So what was the--”
My phone rings.
It's Uncle Cassius's number.
“Hello?” The phone's glued to my ear so fast that I have no time to think of what he's about to tell me.
There's a long silence. Uncle Cassius breathes in. My heart races like it's trying to beat his news to the finish line.
“Allie.”
“Yes? I'm here. Please say we're not hosed.”
Tommy and Dorian draw close, eyes big, ears open, hope drawing out.
“I found the farm. The barn,” he says. His words are plain, unreadable. “Don't come out here, Allie. I'll be with you again in a few days. Just sit tight. I left you some money to pay for the room.”
“A few days?” I explode. “I need you back here now!”
“It's...complicated,” he says. “Trust me, Allie. And if the sky turns dark, get out of town. We attract storms now. It’s one thing I’ve learned about our situation. Don’t ever stop checking the weather.”
Attract storms. That explains why I’ve felt like a storm magnet in the past week.
“So can we get cured or not?”
Click.
He's hung up.
I drop the phone. It lands somewhere in the grass.
Tommy's mouth falls open. “What was that about?”
Dorian retrieves the phone and brings it back, slow. He's putting off hearing the news. His mouth's curled down, tight. His free hand tightens into a fist. He keeps his gaze to the ground and hands me the phone. “Here.”
“Well, we don't know anything yet,” I say, not missing the hope that pulls Dorian's face back up. “He says he'll be gone for a few days. I don't know what to make of it. It's not like him to hang up on me.” I take a deep breath, shifting leg to leg and debating. Stay here. Go look for him. Wait. Take action. Uncle Cassius wouldn't do anything to screw me over. Never. He might be right to tell me to wait here.
But I can't.
“Come on,” I say. “We've got some daylight left. We're looking for him.”