The Storm King(36)

“How bad does it hurt?” Johnny asked. His face was tightened into a knot.

“Not bad.” Nate was actually only a little uncomfortable at the moment. Adrenaline, maybe. Pain only came when his socks or jeans brushed against his burned skin.

“I’m so sorry, man,” Johnny said. “You’re supposed to run a burn under water, or something, aren’t you?” He stood up and went to his backpack, shunting aside clothes and bags of chips. “Maybe this’ll help.” He produced a bottle of water and a T-shirt.

“Okay,” Nate said. The damp T-shirt felt like razor blades against his skin, but the chill of the water smoothed away some of the discomfort. “Thanks. That does feel better.”

“If we run out of water, we can always get some from the lake.”

“No, no, no. Not from the lake.”

“Okay, okay. No worries, buddy. You’re the Storm King,” Johnny said. “Not a problem.”

“Tom, I’m sorry!” Owen said. “I thought you guys weren’t going to end up doing anything, and he had to be punished, just like Nate said. I didn’t mean for the whole place to go up.”

“Calm down,” Nate said. Johnny helped him to his feet. “Both of you.”

“But we wouldn’t even be in this—” Tom began.

“It’s done, Tom. It happened. Now we have to figure out what to do about it.”

“They could still think it was lightning,” Johnny said.

“Did you leave those empty gasoline jugs on the lawn?” Nate asked.

Johnny’s face froze in horror, and Tom banged his forehead against the bar counter.

“They would’ve figured it out anyway.” Nate limped closer to the bar. “Like Tom said, they can tell if a fire’s accidental or not.”

“Why don’t we just tell them the truth?” Tom said. “If the gas jugs are still there, then so are the fingerprints. Well, one of our fingerprints, anyway,” he said, turning to Owen.



“We need to stick together,” Nate said.

“I don’t know, man.” Johnny held his head in his hands. “I wish we’d just stayed home.”

“It would have been fine if Owen hadn’t gone full pyro and burned a house down,” Tom said.

“Enough, Tom,” Nate said. “I’m the one who wanted to go after Adam.” He had to remind them why they were here. “Even if he gets expelled for the fight, it wouldn’t make up for what he did to us, or what he did to Lucy. Think about how much trust it took for her to send him those pictures. What kind of a monster takes that gift and turns it into a weapon? He has to suffer for that.”

Tom took a step backward, and Owen’s eyes bulged. Johnny’s hands slid over his mouth. Nate was confused by their reactions until he realized that his friends weren’t staring at him. He turned to see Lucy Bennett standing in the nightclub’s entryway. Her wet hair was slicked around her face in ropes.

She walked into the Night Ship. She looked up at the ceiling and through the two-story windows. “I was there,” she said.

“What?” Johnny’s voice creaked like a rusted gate.

“At the Deckers’,” Lucy said. “When Owen poured gasoline on the wall. When the fire went up around Nate. I was worried about your legs,” she told Nate.

“I’m fine,” Nate said. He tried to absorb the fact that she was here and speaking to him, and already knew their secrets.

“You just had to take one step to get out of the fire, but you didn’t.”

Nate didn’t know what to say.

The light from the lantern cast shadows under her cheekbones. Her wet hair made her look somehow new. “I was going to run away,” she said. “I was so close. When he sent out that email and—I just couldn’t face anyone today. I had to think, so I started walking. But the storm…there’s something about a storm, isn’t there? Something safe. Do you know what I mean?”

Nate knew. He found peace in the storms, because that was when the world pulled aside its mask to show its true face. Life was a maelstrom from which any respite was an illusion. The fury inside Nate was at home where the horizon blistered with lightning and the world shook with thunder. In a place like that everything made sense.



“I guess I’d been heading for Adam’s all along. Maybe I wanted to do something to him, too. But you beat me there. I could hardly see you in your black coats, but that’s why you wear them, isn’t it?” Nate realized that he was the only one she was talking to.

“I almost ran to you when the grass caught on fire around you. I kept thinking you were going to move, but you didn’t. It was so strange, Nate.” Her eyes pooled with light as she looked at him. “You had your hands in front of you like you were reaching for something. And you looked so sad.” She turned to the others. “Then you all ran. The garage was open and the lights were on. It was all wrong.” She shook her head. “I know where they keep the gas. I put one of the jugs back in there, and then threw the other one in the woods. Had to make it look like someone tried to cover it up.”

Johnny looked confused. “But why—”

“I wiped down everything I could,” she said. “The jugs, the door to the garage, the light switch. I made sure the door locked behind me.”