Chapter 31
Thirty-One
Tobin tapped her phone for the eleventieth time during her layover in Grayport.
It was a little past three in the afternoon, and she hadn’t heard from Grier since their exchanges earlier during her overseas flight.
The funeral should be over by now, and even if Grier had stayed behind to help with cleanup or talk to Molly, she should have responded.
Even a simple thumbs-up—to let Tobin know she was alive.
“Where is she?” Tobin muttered aloud, opening her chat with Grier again and rereading the messages she’d sent. Everything after their exchanged “I love yous” prior to the funeral remained unread.
I wanted to surprise you… I changed my
flights. I’m on my way home—to you.
You shouldn’t have to do this alone, and
I’m sorry it took me until now to do
something about it.
TOBIN—1:18 p.m.
Just landed in Grayport. We’re so close!
Can you pick me up? I land at 5:11.
TOBIN—2:13 p.m.
Grier? Are you okay?
Tobin fidgeted in her chair, pumping her leg nervously against the bar beneath her feet. She’d known today would be hard for
Grier—expected the distance while Grier grieved both publicly and privately. She hadn’t expected radio silence.
She glanced out the window at her plane, framed against a dark, overcast sky. A light rain began tapping against the glass, its soft rhythm doing nothing to soothe her rising anxieties.
Pulling out her phone, she opened the weather app and scrolled to Aetheridge. A chill trickled ominously along her spine as her eyes landed on the bright red lightning bolt icon beside her hometown’s name.
A summer’s-worth of drought conditions…
Her mind started spinning. She couldn’t stifle this sensation slowly crawling its way up her spine, tingling and chilling her all at once.
The skin over her freshly laid ink rippled with goosebumps—a rather alarming sensation, in direct contrast to the mild burn that had been weakening since Dagny finished it last night.
Instinctively, she looked up at the airport TVs, something subconsciously drawing her eyes to their bright screens.
The sound was off, but the local Grayport news anchor was interrupting the regular broadcast with an emergency update.
Something sinister slithered and coiled in the pit of her stomach.
A red banner scrolled at the bottom of the screen: City of Aetheridge ablaze—electrical storm triggers wildfire in drought-stricken city and surroundings.
She was on her feet before she could think, her phone ringing in her hands before she could get it to her ear. She called Grier on instinct, hoping—praying—that her gut was wrong.
It rang only once before connecting. But Tobin’s relief was abruptly replaced by a new, oilier fear when Grant’s anxious voice connected where Grier’s familiar timbre should have been.
“Tobin?” he asked, sending a new wave of goosebumps flooding through her entire body.
“Grant?” she breathed his name, the fear in her voice only exacerbating her rising unease. “Where’s Grier? What’s going on?”
“We can’t find her. She ran out of the funeral and no one’s seen her…” Grant trailed off, his unspoken terror hanging ominously over an unknown edge, making the hairs on the back of Tobin’s neck stand on end.
“Tobin?” Grant probed delicately. He didn’t wait for her to answer, “The city’s on fire. Some of the fields outside of town— really, anything that can catch fire has caught. We’re going up like a tinder box. The forest, too…”
Tobin heard the implication. Grant knew his sister better than anyone. Between him, Alix, and Maren, they’d already divided and were scouring the likely places she could have fled. If she wasn’t where she usually sought refuge, she’d have searched for solace in the only place left—the forest.
“So, you’re thinking what I’m thinking?”
“She’s in the forest. We just don’t know where,” Grant admitted, his voice edged with agitation and the rising fear it overshadowed.
“I have an idea. But can you check her location at all? Was she still wearing her watch? You should be able to use her phone to trace it.”
“I didn’t think of that.” Grant’s voice faded as he tore the phone from his mouth to open Grier’s FindMy app. Tobin heard him inhale sharply before he said, excitement breaking through, “Her watch’s last known location was a trailhead on the west side of town—leading into the coastal forest.”
The clearing.
Tobin’s heart panged at the confirmation of what she’d already suspected. “I know where she is.”
“But how do we get her out? The mayor’s issued evacuation orders, and the interactive incident map shows there are already three separate fires burning in that area. It’s only a matter of time before they converge. No one can get in through the trails.”
Tobin walked as she listened, forming a plan in her mind while steadily increasing her pace toward the bank of rental car counters. She silently thanked whoever had the idea to create unmanned kiosks as she breezed past the line of people waiting for a representative.
“We’re not going in through the trails,” she said, selecting the sportiest sedan on the first page of rental options. Speed was of the essence. “We’re going through the air. Specifically, I’m going through the air.”
A pair of keys dropped into the kiosk’s slot; in an instant, they were in her hand. She sprinted out the doors into the blustery Grayport afternoon, frantically scanning for her rental.
“But how? Aren’t you in Iceland?” Grant asked, incredulous.
The edge of hope sat thickly on his tongue. It spurred her on.
“Grayport—but not for long,” Tobin said as she slid into the
driver’s seat and started the ignition. “I’ll be in Aetheridge in twenty minutes. Can you meet me at the hangar?”
“Grayport is a forty-five-minute drive! On a clear Sunday at three o’clock in the morning… how are you going to be here in twenty minutes?”
“I’ll drive fast, Grant. Just meet me at the hangar. I’ll give Eddie a heads-up.” She ended the call and headed toward the exit terminal. As soon as she passed through security, she dialed Eddie and merged onto the interstate.
“Tell me you’re on your way,” Eddie deadpanned, an unfamiliar breathiness to her voice that Tobin immediately understood to be controlled hysteria.
The tear in her friend’s normally ironclad composure was startling, but not entirely foreign.
They’d suffered many wars in their years as friends and colleagues.
Still, it did nothing to quell the steady churn in Tobin’s stomach.
Things are worse than I thought…
“I’m on my way from Grayport—any chance you can get me an escort? I’d rather not come in with a tail of Grayport’s finest.”
Eddie scoffed, barely fazed by Tobin’s request amidst the chaotic rain battering the aluminum roof of her vehicle, which was currently setting pace at eighty miles per hour while she expertly weaved through traffic.
Tobin didn’t have time for this. “Eddie…” she chided, her tone infused with a firmness that she knew would catch her friend’s attention. “Grier’s missing… in the forest.”
A beat of silence—barely more than the breadth of a heartbeat— passed as Eddie absorbed the news and started calculating.
“Fuck, Blur. Lead with that next time.”
“There better not be a next time.”
“I’ll call Aetheridge HyPo. They’re probably a bit bogged down at the moment. Can you try to prevent yourself from getting arrested until your escort arrives?”
This wasn’t the time for sarcasm, but Tobin appreciated Eddie’s attempt all the same. “No promises.”
“What’s the plan when you get here?” Eddie asked, and Tobin could hear the telltale rustle of fingers running through her hair— the characteristic sign she’d surrendered to whatever plot Tobin had concocted. “What are you getting me into?”
“Grier’s brother is on his way. He’s got her last known location, but I already know where she is. Just watch her location in case it comes back live.”
“That’s not an answer,” Eddie complained.
“You already know what the plan is, Eddie.” Tobin gritted her teeth, her anxiety and speed were rising in tandem.
She wasn’t just a little nervous—it wouldn’t serve anyone if she crashed and burned before she could rescue Grier.
But her foot stayed leaden against the accelerator.
There was no convincing her to slow down.
Not when Grier’s life was hanging in the balance.
Eddie sighed in defeat. “Calling HyPo now. Be safe, Tobin. That’s an order.” She ended the call without waiting for a response.
Daringly, Tobin texted Eddie the details of her rental vehicle so the HyPo would know what to look for. As she exited the messaging app, she noticed an unread voicemail from Anchor, left thirty minutes earlier. Her stomach dropped for at least the third time in as many hours.
Fetch a Friend was nestled on the outskirts of town, surrounded on three sides by open fields, and bordered by inland forest on the fourth.
She hit play, holding her breath as Anchor’s frantic, defeated voice filled the car.
“Tobin… the rescue… there’s an electrical storm.
We were hit. Lightning—on the kennel roof.
It sparked a fire. I was here feeding the dogs.
Jodi, Eli, and I managed to get everyone out.
But… the dogs… we… we’re homeless. The fire department hasn’t even been here yet—they’re too busy with the wildfires.
It’s… I know you’re in Iceland… I’m sorry for unloading on you while you’re away. I… I just thought you should know.”
Tobin let out a breath and gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. She hadn’t felt settled since the volcano exploded, and now it seemed Mother Nature had a personal vendetta against her—one she was intent on settling. She couldn’t escape.
She didn’t waste time thinking of what to say. She tapped Anchor’s name and called her back.
Her eyes flicked to the street just in time to see an Aetheridge Highway Patrol car slip in front of her, flashing its lights—her escort had arrived.