Storms of Future Past Books One through Four

Chapter 9-4

The safest place she could think of, a huge row of dumpsters behind a strip mall, was only a couple of miles away. Anne was dripping with sweat by the time she got there. She’d only passed a few cars along the way, and no one else was out walking or riding in the damp heat.

The sky was still light, but no one was behind the stores either. There weren’t any windows on this side, only a solid row of cinderblock and stacks of empty wooden pallets. Sometimes Anne saw teenagers back here smoking. Cigarette butts, empty liquor bottles and beer cans, and food containers drifted against the dumpsters. If any of the stores had cameras, she was sure no one bothered checking them.

She got off her bike and walked down to one of the huge bins for the grocery store. That would be a great place with so many bags jammed into it each day. She lifted the lid, wrinkling her nose at the rotten stench even when it was mostly empty. She got the gun and holster out, then she froze.

She’d seen more than kids smoking back here. She’d seen grownups, sad and dirty grownups, rummaging through the grocery dumpsters. No, she couldn’t put the gun here.

She walked her bike past three more dumpsters until she got to one behind a department store that always had discounts and sales going on. When she raised the lid, Anne saw a bunch of hangers, packaging, and empty boxes. Not much worth digging around in.

This one didn’t really smell bad, but Anne still held her breath as she reached in for a huge wad of plastic. She took the gun out of the holster and wrapped it up. By the time she was finished, the gun was only a stain in the middle. She tied some long, white plastic strips around the whole thing and dropped it into the dumpster.

Anne turned the holster over in her hands. Nothing would link it to Evan’s father besides the initials, but she still didn’t want to leave it here. If someone found this, that could lead right to the gun, and the whole thing might end up back in Evan’s house.

She smiled, surprised she could with her heart breaking for her friend. She knew exactly the right place. She put the holster in her backpack and rode away.

Less than ten minutes later, Anne stood on a bridge outside of town.

The road didn’t even have lines on it because no one lived out here. The pavement went on for another mile or so, then it was just a gravel farm road passing through endless rows of corn and soybeans. Anne knew it wasn’t possible, but she and Evan had ridden far enough out there that she was halfway convinced the road never ended. It only branched off into dirt roads and kept going on forever.

The river beneath her flowed fast with recent storms. The holster wouldn’t sink to the bottom to be found someday during a drought. It would float away, with any luck ending up in the next county before it ever washed ashore. Anne had a feeling the muddy water would take care of the initials long before then.

She braced her hip against the concrete rail and threw the holster into the middle of the river. It sank for a second, then resurfaced several yards away. She closed her eyes and counted to ten. This time it was only a pale brown blob, so far away she wouldn’t have known what it was.

Anne sighed, holding on to the hot, pebbled concrete as her whole body sagged. Seeing the holster floating away was only part of it. The memories, the two awful memories, had shifted somehow. They didn’t seem real anymore, like they were waiting right around the corner.

The images were still vivid and terrible, but they felt like dreams now, normal dreams instead of nightmares. No longer deep and heavy and threatening, the scenes of Evan’s father and the gun were now light as campfire smoke.

Evan’s mother was still gone, and his family was going to suffer terribly over that. Evan most of all. But everything had changed.

As soon as Anne saw Evan’s house on her way home, she remembered all the things he would do and every word he would say to her over the next few months. She couldn’t do a damned thing to stop it, or change it, or make it easier for him. All she could do was wait and listen when Evan needed to talk.

He would need to whisper and shout and groan and cry, and he would need to be still and silent for longer than he ever had. As bad as the long days ahead would be, she knew everything could have been so much worse.

Anne hoped remembering what didn’t happen would give her the courage to go through everything that did.