Star Witness - By Mallory Kane Page 0,40

been leaning so far into the wind that he almost toppled forward. He stood still, looking around and listening. Amazingly the wind had suddenly calmed, the rain had stopped and the thunder had quieted. The silence was eerie, intense, as if the storm were holding its breath.

“What happened?” Dani asked.

“It’s the eye of the storm,” he replied, and started walking again, urging her along with him. “We need to take advantage of it. Come on!”

Without the wind and rain fighting them, it was much easier to walk. Harte blinked and used his drenched shirt cuff again to wipe his face. Looking around, he saw that most of the buildings were old, with fading paint and unreadable signs. Several appeared abandoned. He didn’t recognize anything. He looked up and down the street. He needed to find a corner. If he could just get to a street sign, he’d know where he was, he was sure.

“Let’s go this way,” he said to Dani, pointing to the left. They’d only gone a few steps when she grabbed his arm.

“Listen,” she hissed.

Harte stopped. At first he didn’t hear anything. He held his breath.

“Is that voices—?” Dani said, her tone rising in a question.

“Yeah. Hurry!” He’d glanced at the buildings, hoping he’d recognize the street. Now he looked at them again, assessing which one would be best for them to hide in.

It was impossible to tell what most of the buildings were. Office buildings, probably. Harte grimaced. They’d be dry, but what could they offer other than shelter? He’d passed four seemingly identical facades before, tucked into the corner of one of the buildings, he saw a sign for a diner. That could be a little better. The diner would have food—and knives.

Then, in the distance, obscured by the damp haze that still hung in the air, he saw an old, distinctively shaped sign, rocking lazily back and forth on the chains that held it suspended above a set of glass doors.

He blinked, then squinted. It was an Rx sign. A drugstore. His heart skipped a beat. Considering the predicament they were in, hiding out in a drugstore would be like taking shelter in Santa’s workshop. If they could get inside, they might be able to find more flashlights. Maybe even some dry clothes.

“Drugstore,” he said to Dani, pointing toward it as he picked up his pace.

Then, as suddenly as the storm had quieted, it started up again. The sky dumped rain as if by giant bucketfuls. The wind blew it into their faces like tiny, stinging darts. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Then a blinding flash of lightning lit everything, and Harte read the faded words on the sign. Delaughter’s Drugs and Sundries.

He bent his head toward Dani’s ear. “When we step onto the street, the wind’s going to blow us sideways. Walk steadily and deliberately. Be careful. The water looks like it’s about four inches. It’s flowing fast. If the wind doesn’t knock you off your feet, the water will.” He wrapped an arm around her waist. “Ready?”

She nodded. They stepped into the street. Dani faltered, but caught herself with Harte’s help. When they were about halfway across, a harsh scraping noise rose above the roar of the rain and wind. Harte turned. A metal street sign, battered into a twisted mess by the punishing gusts of wind, was tumbling down the street, directly at them.

Harte threw himself to the pavement with Dani in his arms. “Hold your breath!” he yelled in her ear as he ducked his head and covered her head with his hands.

He cringed, praying the sharp-edged runaway sign wouldn’t hit them. A rush of air on the nape of his neck and a discordant twang told him the sign passed way too close over them. A few inches lower and its jagged edges would have sliced right through them. He looked up in time to see one sharp edge of the piece of metal cut a fallen tree branch in half and not even slow down.

It took him a couple of seconds to calm his labored breathing.

Dani still lay beneath him, not moving.

“Dani?” he said, loosening his hold on her.

She took a gasping breath. He rolled off her and helped her up. Then they ran toward the drugstore.

Without even checking his stride, Harte used his forward momentum to kick at the glass entry door until it cracked. He half fell against the door when his ankle gave way, but he caught himself. Gritting his teeth, he kicked again and