Eye of the Sh*t Storm by Jackson Ford (most romantic novels .txt) 📕

Even more amazingly, given his shredded hands, Leo grins and returns it.

“What the hell?” Annie growls. “I told you to lean forward.”

“I was leaning forward,” Nic says, absently patting his legs.

“So you’re OK?” I say, my voice just as high as his.

“I think so. Yeah. It hurt but… yeah. How ’bout you, little man?”

“I’m fine,” Leo says. He holds up his hands, blinking at them, then holds them out to us. Like he wants them graded. “Ow.”

“Damn,” Nic says, leaning down to lift the bike. “I was finally getting the hang of gears, and then the slope just… damn.”

Annie bends down, helping Nic right the bike. “Yeah, well, it’s flat from here on out.” She glances back at the sinkhole, as if expecting Pop to reappear like the damn Terminator. “Let’s go.”

Nic and Leo might be fine, but their bike isn’t. Twenty minutes later, as we rumble down Alameda, it gives a sputtering, gurgling noise, and dies. Nic and Leo coast to a stop, and Annie has to pull back, driving in a wide circle. I’m microsleeping again, this time without any weird dreams, and wake up with a snort.

“I think it broke,” Leo says.

Nic dismounts. “Can we fix it?”

“We’d better.” Annie jogs over. Halfway there, she turns back. Studying me. “You’re OK, right?”

Her sudden concern knocks me off balance a little. “Um. Yeah. I’m fine.”

She looks me up and down once more, then heads over to Nic. “Keep an eye out. Watch our backs.”

I don’t have the heart to tell her my PK energy is pretty much at zero right now.

Nic and Annie fuss with the bike for a few minutes – well, Annie fusses with it, Nic just tries not to get in the way. I wander over to Leo, still not a hundred per cent sure this isn’t a dream. I’m awake now, at least, my brain given a nice little jolt of energy.

“No go.” Annie gets to her feet, wiping oil-stained hands on her jeans. “Dead.”

“Sorry, man,” Nic says. “It must have happened when I dumped the bike.”

“So what do we do now?” I ask.

“Guess we walk,” Annie says.

“Um, Annie?” I point to Leo. “Maybe walking isn’t the best—”

“I’m OK,” Leo says, rocking from foot to foot. “It feels weird and stuff but, but the wiggles are gone”

“We still got one bike,” Nic points out. “You could go ahead with Leo, and—”

“No.” Annie’s voice is harsh. Harsher than she intended, because almost immediately, she draws into herself, as if telling herself to chill the fuck out. She glances at Leo, tries again. “I’m not splitting us up again. That didn’t work out so well last time.”

We’re in DTLA now, west of the river. Compton is to the south – the far south. A whole lot of walking. After everything that’s happened today, I feel like I’ve walked for years. Decades.

Looking around, I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who feels this way. Leo’s wiggles might be gone, but he’s exhausted. Nic and Annie too. The bruises and cuts are still fresh, and their bodies are probably screaming for rest.

“Can we just stop for a few minutes?” I say. I’d prefer a few hours. Ideally, a whole month. But even sitting down for a little while will help.

“Bad idea.” Annie shakes her head. “We gotta keep moving.”

It would be a lot more convincing if she didn’t look like she was about to fall over.

For a long moment, nobody says anything. Annie keeps glancing back up Alameda, as if looking for anyone chasing us.

“Maybe it’s not such a bad idea,” Nic says. Leo punctuates this with a massive yawn.

Annie shakes her head. “We have to—”

“Annie, come on,” I say. “Ten minutes. We take ten minutes, catch our breath, then we keep going.”

“They’re probably coming after us right now. You know that right?”

“OK, so we hide. They’re not gonna search every single building.”

She wavers. She’s as exhausted as I am, and probably in real pain from the bruises. Her lip has started bleeding again, a thin trickle of blood on her chin.

“We gotta get the bikes off the street anyway,” I point out. “Can’t just leave ’em for the Legends to find.”

“OK, genius.” Annie rubs the back of her neck, wincing. “Where should we…? What is it?”

I happen to be looking over her shoulder as she speaks. I hadn’t noticed it before, but there’s a strange building behind her – one that isn’t a rectangular office block, or line of stores, like most of the buildings you see in this part of town. It lies at the other end of a short plaza, which is now a graveyard of toppled palm trees. It’s an odd shape – like a church, with a tall tower at one end.

Nic squints into the darkness. “Teags, what do you see?”

“Son of a bitch,” I murmur, a smile cracking my face.

Annie spreads her hands, eyebrows raised.

I straighten up. “Come with me.” Without waiting for them to agree, I march off, heading for the strange building, ignoring the protests from Annie and Nic.

Eventually, I’m far enough ahead of them that they have no choice to follow. They wind the heavy bikes through the fallen palm trees, and by the time we reach the front of the building, Annie looks like she’s going to fall over.

OK – maybe I should have gone back and helped with the bikes. But as the details of the building coalesce out of the downtown darkness, I decide not to be too hard on myself.

When Annie sees what I see, she lets out an exhausted laugh. “Unreal, man. Unreal.”

Nic frowns. “Is that—?”

“What does it say?” Leo asks, pointing. There’s a wide awning that projects out from the building entrance, big metal letters bolted onto the front edge, looking out over the plaza.

I grin. “It says, Union Station. Come on, little dude. I got something amazing to show you.”

THIRTY-EIGHTTeagan

God, if he or she or they actually exist, is a gigantic prick.

No, for real. Take one look at