The Running Girls(62)

Chapter Thirty-Four


Laurie checked the latest information on the storm as she drank her morning coffee, though all she had to do was look outside. Hurricane Heather may not have fully arrived yet, but her tendrils were already inland, the wind wreaking havoc on the island city.

She tried to call David and Warren but phone coverage was down in vast areas of the island. Sending them both emails on the off chance that they would get through, she changed and made final checks before leaving with the two bags she would take to the shelter that had been arranged at the high school. A harried-looking Remi was waiting outside, fighting against the wind as he got out of his car.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice all but lost in the noise of the brewing storm.

“I’m getting the hell out of Dodge. I’ve been trying to call you all morning but I couldn’t get through.”

Laurie sighed. “Why haven’t you gone already?”

“Thought I’d double-check.”

“You’ve checked, now go.”

“But what about you?”

“I need to check on Warren,” said Laurie, omitting the fact that she also wanted to see David.

Remi hesitated. “If it wasn’t for my family . . .”

“You don’t need to apologize to me, Remi. Your wife is pregnant, for goodness’ sake. You’re not going to do any good staying. Get yourself to safety, and hopefully I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

Still Remi didn’t move. “You should come too. I can take you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll go and get Warren and I’ll be right behind you. Why do you think I have this?” she said, pointing to the bags, even though she had no intention of leaving the island. “Go,” she added, surprised when Remi gave her a quick hug goodbye for the second time in as many days.

“Stay safe,” he said.

“You too, Remi,” said Laurie, tensing her legs to remain balanced as she waited for Remi to leave.

The evacuation line out of the city had eased since yesterday. The numbers were still near a record high, but many had already escaped. Laurie knew from the string of emails she’d been receiving over the last twenty-four hours that at some point soon the drivers of those vehicles would need to make a choice. Either risk getting caught on the highway or return to the island to ride out the storm.

Laurie had driven for a few minutes more when suddenly her phone reception came back to life. She pulled over and called Lieutenant Filmore. As they discussed the most urgent of the open cases, Laurie thought how this would be the perfect time to be a criminal on the island. She told Filmore about last night’s visit to Frank’s. Thankfully he agreed that she had taken the only feasible course of action under the circumstances.

“I’ll check in on him if I’m able,” she said.

“He’s made his bed, he can lie in it,” said Filmore. “Your priority is to keep safe. Don’t wait until the last minute to get to the shelter.”

“About that, I was hoping to bring in Warren and David to the shelter at the high school. Is that OK?”

“I thought they’d be long gone.”

“It’s Warren we’re talking about.”

“Good point. Of course they can go, but ideally you all need to be there before midday.”

“Lieutenant,” said Laurie, hanging up before heading out to Warren’s.



Laurie was going against the traffic as she headed toward Warren’s house. The water had breached the seawall, and she feared it wouldn’t be long before parts of the road were unpassable. Driving inland off the Termini-San Luis Pass Road, it was like heading into a ghost town. All the windows on the stilted beach houses were boarded, the garage doors sealed shut. Only a few vehicles remained in the area, one of which was the truck parked outside Warren’s house. Despite which, the house felt abandoned as she climbed the steps to the front door, and Laurie was half surprised when David opened it.

“I’ve got you two places at the high school shelter,” she said, not waiting for a response before stepping through the doors.

Inside, it was as if Warren had been preparing for the end of the world. The sitting room was stacked high with provisions, and the gun cupboard was unlocked, Warren busy cleaning an AR-15.

“You going to war, Warren?”

“Can’t be too careful,” he said.

Laurie repeated what she’d told David, but Warren didn’t budge. “Ike never got me,” he said. “This one won’t either.”

“This could be twice as bad as Ike,” she said, sitting down next to him, the springs of the sofa soft and yielding.

“We’re in no danger here. Too far inland.”

Laurie couldn’t hide her incredulousness. “Your house isn’t hurricane-proof, Warren. You’re surrounded by water, for heaven’s sake.”

“Won’t reach this high,” said Warren, his focus on his gun.

“David, will you talk some sense into your grandad?”

David lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Can be no harm in going to the high school,” he said, with little conviction.

“That place is little better than here. We’d be cramped up. Horrible conditions. No, I ain’t going anywhere.”