The Storm King(59)

The tides of the night swept Nate and Emma away, and Tom found himself near Johnny and Owen.

“Holy shit, Tommy,” Johnny said when he saw him. He’d stripped to the waist, but Owen was still fully clothed. Owen gleamed with sweat, but he never took off his shirt.

“You guys having a good time?” Tom asked. Or that’s what he tried to say. His tongue and lips disputed the order of syllables.

“Park it, dude,” Johnny said. “I’ll get you some water.”

Tom collapsed into the grass and stared through the frame of trees that held the ball of sky. Sparks from the bonfire blazed and faded against the swirl of the galaxy. It was strange, Tom thought, how we are so small and yet so bright.

“The Thunder Runs don’t have to end,” Owen said.

Tom realized that the big guy had lain next to him. When Tom looked at him, the lenses of Owen’s glasses danced with reflected flames.



“Nate said that himself,” Owen said. “Back at school it sounded like you were up for getting Kritzler for Johnny. Are you still?”

“No.”

Tom was surprised at how easily this answer had come. The Creature of Catastrophic Futures would have equivocated. He would have worried and waffled and hedged. But Tom resolved to do what he wanted for once. Maybe he didn’t have to always worry about what other people thought. Maybe he was allowed to be selfish.

Maybe this was the true gift of the Storm King.

It was a few moments before Owen tried again. “Johnny said he won’t do it without you. He’s really pissed about everything, you know. He’s mad at Nate, too, even if he won’t say it. He’s sort of abandoning us here.”

“You realize some people manage to be friends without committing felonies,” Tom said. “Nate’s not abandoning anyone, and neither am I.”

“It’s not fair,” Owen said. “People still need to be punished, just like Nate always says. That hasn’t changed.”

“But we have. We’ve changed.” Tom stretched his hands to the universe as clouds began to clot the ether.

“If you think about it,” Owen said, “we usually went after people Lucy had it out for. Or Nate. What about the rest of us? Aren’t we allowed to get revenge, too?”

Nate had put together numerous Thunder Runs for Tom and Johnny. They’d hit Owen’s mom on at least three separate occasions. Besides, Tom didn’t want revenge on anyone. At this moment, everything in his life resonated in perfect harmony.

Johnny returned with a bottle of water and handed it to Tom. Tom thanked him, but Johnny had already fixed a scowl on the elated multitudes.

Tom wished he could grant Johnny a measure of his own joy. He didn’t want his friend feeling so low on such a great night.

“Sorry you’re upset, Johnny,” he said.

“I feel better already.”



“I told Tom we were thinking about keeping up the Thunder Runs,” Owen said.

“I’m positive Lucy convinced Nate to go after Lindsay instead of Kritzler,” Johnny said. “She’s been pulling the strings behind the Thunder Runs the whole time. She may as well be keeping him on a leash. You know she’s the reason he’s ducking out in the first place.”

“Get back at Kritzler if you want, but it isn’t going to make you feel better,” Tom said. This was the new Tom: a creature who said what he thought and felt not a moment of trepidation about it. “Your dad’s your problem.” This had always been the case. No matter who Johnny was mad at, it was always his dad.

“And what am I supposed to do about that, Tommy?” Johnny’s voice was loaded with anger, but this bounced off Tom like rain off a leaf. “Especially now that I’ll probably be stuck here with him forever.” He jumped to his feet and headed for the tree line.

Something had happened, Tom realized. Something had happened and he didn’t care. Something had happened and he didn’t care and this felt good.

“Just think about it,” Owen told Tom before following Johnny to the edge of the glade.

Tom lay back down on the grass. The bass from the music beat through the ground like the pulse of the earth itself. He searched for the stars, but clouds had taken them away.

After a while—he did not know how long—he sat up again.

The party was still going, but the crowds had thinned. There were fewer people dancing than there’d been. The center group had scattered into smaller cliques along the edges of the bonfire. The music had quieted slightly, its rhythm slowed.

Tom stood, and this was harder than he’d expected. He made his way to everyone else carefully, as if his feet were not quite his own.

He found Nate drinking beer near one of the kegs with Parker Lang and some of the other guys. His face lit up when he saw Tom.

“I thought you’d left!” He tapped the keg with his foot. “It’s pretty much kicked, but I might be able to get some out.”



Tom waved his hand. He’d drunk enough.

“I think Johnny and Owen took off,” Nate said. “Not sure anyone else here can drive, either. We might have to hoof it back.”

“Okay.” From the way the world tilted, Tom realized that going home was actually an excellent idea.

“Emma was looking for you. Haven’t seen Lucy for a while, either,” Nate continued. “She wouldn’t have left without telling me.”