Page 52 of The Final Storm
“Sir?” a young man says next to me.
I dare to look up, to see him again. The Dean that tried to kill my family stands a few feet away, barking orders. I twist my neck toward his voice.
He can’t see me. He can’t touch me.
Dean stands at the edge of the walkway and points to a black tarp at his feet. “Get this fucking bag and dump it halfway. Are you too stupid to follow orders?” He takes a few steps toward us, but he’s favoring one side. It’s almost a limp, slight, and unnoticeable to some, but I know him better than most. He holds the railing when he steps down, and that’s when I’m sure.
Dean barrels down stairs without fear, never careful and always sure of himself and his every step. This Dean is healing from an injury. I don’t know when this moment takes place. It could be the past six months or right now, maybe even the future.
I’m certain of one thing.
This is after we left.
He survived the gunshot.
“Yes, Lieutenant,” the man says, stepping through me to get to his package. He struggles to lift it, and someone else comes up to help. Dean stands with his arms crossed, watching, a half smile on his lips while they struggle to get the thing on board.
They place it on the hull with great effort and little help. “Get rid of it,” Dean storms off. “But don’t look inside. And I’ll know if you do.”
He glares at the people standing around me, and I notice his eyes are clear. He’s focused. Whatever drug he took the last time we saw each other is out of his system. He storms off, the metal walkway shaking with each step, and I feel the familiar pull in my stomach.
The boat comes to life, and I jolt forward, looking for a way off to chase after Dean. I lift one foot onto the ledge and grab onto the rails of the steps, swinging my other leg wide over the patch of water between the boat and the grated path. The tender slips away, and my other leg trails down the ledge until I collapse on the walkway, my fingers clutching the open slots so I’m not yanked away.
It speeds off out to sea, sending another wave into the slip. I scramble to my feet and fly up the steps before it soaks me. Dean turns a corner down a hallway, sending another pull at my stomach to follow. I jog after him, and something about this hall makes me sure we are on the Thalassa. BeLew hated its hallways, and I’m not much of a fan either as I trail after Dean.
A man comes up on his right, a tablet in his hand. “The Galene, really?” he says.
I’m sure Dean will hit him in the jaw for insubordination, but he chuckles instead. “What can I say? I’m nostalgic.”
My heart constricts, and I swallow hard.
“The fuck you are, the other man says.” It’s Lieutenant Lindell. I recognize his pinched face and red hair. How could I forget the one who threw six souls overboard for being scared? “It’s a smaller vessel. I thought you wanted to start big. That woman must have a golden pussy.”
“She does, but she’s not onboard. She’s close enough, though. Now that we know where they are, rip out all the comms.”
“Yes, sir,” Lindell says and taps a few things on the tablet. “How long will those radios last?”
“Months,” Dean scoffs. “Did you put a tracker on the body?”
“As ordered, sir.”
The body.
“Good, I want to know when that fucker is at the bottom of the ocean.”
We turn another corner and enter an elevator. Dean is limping after walking this far, but he’s hiding it well. I’m not sure where the bullet hit, but he didn’t get out unscathed. Too bad he got out at all.
I cram myself into the elevator with them, itching from the closeness, and remind myself it’s not real. It already happened, or maybe… it happens soon. I can’t tell for certain.
The scowl on Dean’s face and the lines that crease on his forehead look all too familiar. This is recent, and I may be seeing something in the present or not too far-off past.
The future?
No, I decide. Future visions aren’t this clear. They’re flashing moments, pictures, and mixed-up images. Things I have to put together, and I struggle to do it right.
No, this has to be the past.
“When should I head that way?” Lindell asks. “And what about you?”
