Chapter Twenty-One
Borrowed Time
The morning came soft and deceptive. Catalina smelled of hibiscus and salt. It was just one more day in one more week, in one more month, in an endless year.
Cass leaned against the wall, sunglasses perched low, watching Harmony sip a sugary coffee. “You’re quiet this morning.”
Harmony smiled. “Mornings deserve silence.”
“Candy texted me last night,” Cass said. “She reminded me about the Airport in the Sky event tonight. She wants us to come. Free drinks, live music, and to top it off, skating on the runway. It sounds fun.”
“Could be fun,” Harmony said. “We can’t miss out.”
They drifted through a lazy day, letting the island’s sameness lull them—coffee, gossip, wandering streets. Most days on Catalina blurred together; that was why everyone clung so hard to anything new.
By evening, Mary picked them up, and they were off. The road wound steeply through the heart of the island. She looked beautiful in dark linen wrapped around her shoulders like armor. Her eyes were clearer tonight, though the wine on her breath told another story.
“I’ve always loved this road,” Mary said as they climbed higher. “It’s narrow. Easy to defend. You can see anyone coming before they see you.”
Cass laughed. “Comforting.”
Harmony nodded, letting her gaze sweep the cliffs and canyons, their edges glittering like old glass. “I bet there are many secrets hidden up here.”
“Some good and some terrible,” Mary said.
When they reached the plateau, the world unfolded in color—wild sage and golden grass, the ocean a band of cerulean far below.
The Airport in the Sky was proudly displayed: a weathered hangar, a diner in desperate need of a paint job, and a quickly scribbled sign promising Burgers, Beer the wind stole the words. When she glanced Torie’s way, Torie smiled, and hope flickered in Candy’s eyes. She didn’t want to keep fighting. Torie didn’t feel the same. Rage sat coiled under her skin, a dark, twisted thing that had been growing for a long time.
It started as a hum in the air—barely there, like a thought forming. Then the wind curled up from the ocean, bringing mist and the sharp tang of ozone.
“Whoa, look at the sky!” someone shouted.
Harmony tilted her head back. The horizon was bruising, clouds rolling fast, electric veins threading their undersides. Within minutes, the first drops of rain splattered the runway.
Cass laughed, lifting her arms. “It’s warm rain.” She spun in a slow circle.
“Too warm,” Mary said from the diner doorway. “This is going to get ugly fast.”
Lightning split the sky, close this time. The speakers popped, the music warped into static. People screamed and scattered for cover as thunder cracked like a gunshot over the airfield.
Harmony pushed Cass toward the hangar. “Go. Get under cover.”
“You too,” Cass said, looking back.
“I’m right behind you.”
Strings of lights flickered violently, bulbs winking out until only the diner’s emergency lamp glowed like a dying ember. The drum kit toppled near Candy. She turned, eyes wide. Torie stood a few yards away, hair whipping, shouting something that sounded like a warning.
Another bolt of lightning hit the ridge above the runway. The power blew out, plunging everything into blackness. Someone yelled for flashlights. Others began to cry. Rain soaked Harmony’s hair, the world reduced to breath and pulse. The only light came in stuttering flashes, lightning, and phones.
A new flash hit close. The old wooden airport sign took the blow. It cracked with a groan and crashed to the pavement in splinters.
The crowd, already panicked, screamed louder. Smoke and dust filled the air. Candy stumbled backward, coughing. Torie reached for her, but Candy shoved her hand away, face pale. “Don’t touch me.”
“I’m trying to help,” Torie said.
Candy turned and ran, guitar clutched to her chest, vanishing toward the overlook path behind the hangar. Torie followed.
The next flash of lightning came a minute later, illuminating the overlook for the briefest moment.
Candy was gone. In her place, a silver ribbon floated in the wind in a flash of light . . . before that, too, disappeared.
And when there was a quick headcount, someone else was missing. Not a tourist. Not a drunk who’d wandered to the bathroom. One of their own.
Efrain stepped forward and raised his voice above the chaos, organizing people, getting them into the hangar and under the awnings, and calling for headcounts.
Deputy Ciscel jogged over from the parking area to help, radio in hand, face tight but movements efficient, checking doors and shouting for anyone still outside the hangar.
Candy still didn’t return. Cass shouted Harmony’s name. Voices overlapped. No one could keep track of anyone for long.
Harmony finally found Cass near the hangar wall, lit faintly by a bobbing flashlight. Cass had lost her smile.
“Has anyone found Candy yet?” Cass asked.
“No.” Harmony’s voice was tight. “It’s too calm. It feels like we’re in the eye of the storm.”
Torie appeared out of the dark, arms wrapped around herself. She looked wild and desperate. “She’ll come back. She needed to get away, that’s all.”
Harmony spoke in a low, calming voice. “Sure.”
Torie swallowed hard. “You don’t believe me.”
“I believe you believe yourself,” Harmony said.
Torie’s jaw clenched. “You think I’d hurt her?”
Harmony’s answer was gentle, but it cut. “Maybe you already have.”
Silence fell heavy around them. Cass leaned back against the wall, her whole body shaking. No one knew what to think. The weather had turned without warning.
And now, someone had vanished into the dark—and wasn’t coming back.