"The time is 7:33, that was Led Zeppelin with When the Levee Breaks, and this is Weatherman Cliff on Radio Free NOAA, live and still alive at five-thirty on the AM band.

"I gotta say, things are getting pretty gnarly out there. The latest Doppler data has the storm cell coming in fast from the southeast, headed straight for Arcadia Bay, and showing all the signs of becoming a multiple-vortex EF5 event. We're gonna be looking at windspeeds north of two-hundred miles-per-hour and believe me when I say that'll relocate your house in a hurry.

"Projected landfall is between twenty and thirty minutes away, but these suckers can be unpredictable. I'm gonna try and get a tighter estimate, folks. While I'm doing that, let me leave you with Lynyrd Skynyrd's classic, Free Bird."

"Yeah, this was a great fucking idea," Bowers mutters unhelpfully from just behind me, and I jab one finger toward the sign that reads Please Remain Seated While Vehicle In Motion.

"But we're not even mov-"

"Siddown, Bowers!"

"Christ, alright," he grumbles, dropping back into his seat. "I'm just saying we shoulda gone south."

Part of me wants to tell him to fuck off, but staring at the road ahead, I have to agree with him. There's a scary amount of debris blocking our way; torn chucks of boats, shattered pieces of furniture, and even a semi-truck laying on its side in the middle of the street. There's no way we can drive through it. Even if I could maneuver the bus through the gaps, I'm pretty sure that all the crap on the ground would shred our tires.

This is a problem.

"Alright," I say, trying to sound confident. "It's okay. We're good. We'll just back up and take a side street."

I've barely shifted the bus into reverse when an ear-splitting crack scares the hell out of me. It's the only warning we get before one of the power poles behind us comes crashing down, its electrical wires jumping and sparking on the ground. I instantly put us back in drive and bring my foot down on the gas. I vaguely recall seeing some PSA about downed power lines, and even though I can't remember exactly what it said to do, I figure that getting some distance is a good start.

"God damn it!" I shout, slamming a fist into the steering wheel and actually startling myself a little with the horn. We're completely boxed in; high voltage behind us (because of course the power is back on now) and a fucking junkyard ahead of us. Leaning forward, I reassess the idea of trying to drive through; it looks just as stupid now as it did a few minutes ago.

What the fuck are we supposed to do now? It's not like we can get out and walk. I mean, me, Kate, and Bowers could. I guess Jillian could too, as long as one of us led her. But Mom and Douglas? No way. Even from here I can see that there's no way to maneuver a wheelchair through all that junk.

Neither me or Kate are strong enough to carry someone, and even if Bowers is strong enough – assuming he'd be willing to do it – he could only carry one. Of course I'd want that to be Mom, but even admitting that makes me feel like a piece of shit. How could I possibly look Douglas in the eye and sa-

"There's someone out there!" Kate's voice cuts into my thoughts as she points out the windshield. "Over there! Next to the red truck!"

Peering through the glass, I realize she's right. There's a guy on the ground next to a tipped-over semi, just past the edge of our headlights and pinned under a chunk of wood. He's struggling to lift it off his leg but it doesn't look like he'll be able to do it on his own. "Shit."

"We've got to help him," Kate says, and I turn to see her gently pass Alice's backpack over to Jillian and start pulling on her too-big raincoat. I doubt I'd be able to stop her, even if I wanted to, and I'm not about to let her go alone either.

"Alright," I say, unbuckling my seatbelt. And to think, I'd almost started feeling dry. "Let's do this."

The rain shocks me the second I'm outside, pelting my head like icy little darts, but at least I'm sorta dressed for the weather. Kate's basically wearing her pajamas under that raincoat of hers, so I'm about to start bitching.

I can see the relief in the guy's eyes as soon as he spots us running toward him, and a second later Kate and I take hold of either end of the pole. Between the two of us, we're able to shift it enough for the guy to get out and scramble to his feet. "Holy hell! Where'd you two come from?"

"The hospital!" I shout over the wind, gesturing back at the bus. "We're the last ones out!"

"Well you two definitely got some balls on you, drivin' around in this shit!"

"Uh...thanks?"

"Aw hell, you girls know what I mean!" He looks past me to the bus, then back up the road. "Looks like you're in a jam, too! Need some help?"

"Unless you can magically clear the roads, I don't know what you're gonna do!"

"Well, I dunno about magic, but my wrecker's got a heavy winch and torque for days. Even got a dozer blade mounted after that snow on Monday!"

I glance at Kate, who looks just as bewildered as I feel. "I don't know what any of that meant!"

He laughs, despite the chaos around us. "Means that as long as she's still on her wheels, I can probably clear most of this shit outta your way! Sound like a plan?"

"Seriously?!" He nods, and I throw my arms around him, laughing. "You're my fucking hero!"

"Least I can do after you saved my ass!" He grins crookedly. "Gimme ten minutes! And if you got anyone willin' and able to help, it'd sure be appreciated."

I wave Kate back to the bus, then follow the guy as far as the end of the tipped-over semi. Watching him take off down the road, I hope like hell that his truck is still working. If it is, we might've just gone from totally screwed to slightly less screwed, which isn't a lot, but I'll take it.

He's out of sight a second later, but just before I turn back I spot Evan Harris, of all people. He standing in the middle of the street, wearing his usual scarf and t-shirt combo for some fucking reason, taking photos of a giant fucking tornado with a big idiot grin on his face.

"Hey, Evan!" I shout, surprising him.

"Taylor?" He lowers his camera, confused, taking a step toward me just as a chunk of metal siding whips through the space he'd just been standing in. Letting out a slightly shrill scream, he leaps away and just about stumbles into me. "Holy shit!"

I grab him by the arm before he can fall over. "What the hell are you doing out here, you idiot?!"

"I...uh..." Evan gestures lamely between his camera and the approaching storm. "I was..."

"Forget it! Come on." I try to pull him with me, but he resists. "Quit screwing around!"

"But I..."

"God fucking damn it, Evan!" I grab his scarf and yank him close. Evan's a little taller than me and definitely bigger, but I'm hoping it still comes off as intimidating. "I swear I'll drag you kicking and screaming if you make me!"

I'm a little surprised when it actually works. His eyes go wide, and he lets himself be pulled along. He hesitates when we get to the bus, eyeing the hospital logo on the side. "Hang on...is this thing stolen?"

Oh, for fuck's sake. "Do you wanna live or not?"

He blinks. "I...yeah?"

"Then get in there." Pushing him inside, I practically shove him into a seat. He looks kinda put out, but that's all. Eyeing his soaked clothes, I realize that he doesn't even look cold. "How the hell are you not freezing right now?"

"Oh, please." He snorts, and for the first time I see a little of his unique Evan-swagger come back. "I grew up in Alaska, Taylor. Call me when the rain actually starts freezing."

"Ugh." I immediately turn away, refusing to let the lucky asshole see how jealous I am, and I immediately realize that there's one less person in here than there should be. "Hang on, where the hell is Bowers?"

"It's my fault," Kate answers meekly. "I let Pompidou out when I opened the bus door. Mr. Bowers went to get him. He said he'd be right back."

For a second, I consider going after him, but I don't even know what direction he went. I just have to trust that he'll find his way back.

I move over to kneel next to Kate and lower my voice. "It's not your fault. Could've happened to anyone."

"I know, but..."

"Not your fault," I repeat, interrupting her. "How's everyone else doing?"

She hesitates, then offers a slight nod. "Okay, mostly."

"Mostly?"

She glances to Mom and leans closer. "I'm a little worried about your mother. I think her pain medication might be wearing off. She hasn't said anything, but..."

Looking over, I can see Mom sitting stiffly, her face drawn tight as she stares out the bus's window. I'd been hoping no one would notice. "The nurses left before she was supposed to get her last dose," I tell her. "The one before that has probably worn off by now. I didn't think we'd get held up like this."

"Oh." Kate reaches out to give my arm a comforting squeeze. "I'm sure she'll be okay. She's strong, right?"

"Yeah. Right. Thanks, Kate." Standing up, I head to the front. "Alright, listen up. We're going to get out of here. There's a truck coming to clear a path for us. It won't be long, so we just need to stay here and stay chi-"

"Hey kid!" Bowers cuts me off, sticking his head in the door and scaring the crap out of me. "We got a problem!"

"Holy fuck, what now?!"

"There's some chick trapped up in a building." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder as his dog runs inside; Kate throws a blanket over him before he can shake all the rainwater out of his fur. "I tried to help her out but she ain't listening."

"Probably because you look like you'd stab her," I mutter without thinking, and he actually looks a little offended. "Shit. Sorry."

"Whatever," he grunts. "What do you wanna do?"

"You're asking me?"

"Who the hell else would I ask?"

"How about literally anybody?" Turning around, I expect to find everyone looking as shocked as I am, but they've all got the same expression as Bowers. Like they're just waiting for me to tell them what to do. "I..."

"Well?" Douglas says. "We're not getting any younger."

This is so fucked. I'm not in charge. I can't be in charge. Who in their right mind would put me in charge? I have no fucking idea what I'm doing. I don't even know how we've made it this far. If I were in charge I'd have some kind of plan, wouldn't I? All I've been doing is dealing with one shitty situation after another and trying to keep everyone moving in the same direction.

"Hey. You've got this, Taylor," Kate says quietly, like she can read my thoughts. "We trust you."

Un-fucking-believable.

Alright. Okay. Just reacting has worked pretty well so far, so why mess with a good thing? "Bowers, that guy me and Kate helped out is a truck driver. He went to get his truck and he's gonna be back soon to try and clear the road. Think you can help him out when he does?"

"Fucking right, I can." He looks down at his dog. "Pompidou? Stay. I fucking mean it, dummy."

Pompidou obediently sits, his tail wagging like he's waiting for a treat. He lets out a soft whine when Bowers steps outside without him.

"Evan, you go with him."

"I..." Evan blinks, looking a little surprised that I'm already kicking him out of the bus. "What?"

"You're the one who's from Anchorage, right?"

"Fairbanks, but...yeah."

"So are you just going to sit there?" I step aside, clearing a path between him and the door. "Or are you gonna go show us how they do things up north?"

He hesitates, just for a second, then grins. "Damn right I will."

He's on his feet a second later, running to catch up with Bowers, and I turn back to Kate. "You think you're up for another walk?"

"Of course. Didn't you hear Evan?" she asks. "It's not even cold out."

The sly smile she's giving me seems very un-Kate-like, but the more time I spend with her, the more I wonder how much I really knew her at all.

Rolling my eyes a little, I look over to Doug. "Think you can keep an eye on Jill and my mom?"

Grinning, he taps the brim of his hat. "Yes, ma'am."

"Awesome. C'mon, Kate."

Running out into the rain this time sucks slightly less than the last time, but that's only because I already feel half frozen. Just gotta push through it, though. That's what they always say in the movies, isn't it? Of course, those jerks have stunt doubles for this stuff. I wish I had a stunt double right about now. I could go have a margarita in my trailer and let them handle this shit.

Cutting around a battered yellow pickup, I instantly see who Bowers was talking about. The siding has been ripped off a building up the road and standing in a gaping hole on the second floor is Alyssa Anderson, the closest thing Blackwell has to a goth chick. I bet this is going to go super well; I'm pretty sure she fucking hates me.

"I'm stuck up here!" she yells as if that weren't stupidly obvious. "Somebody help me!"

"Alyssa! We're right here! We're coming!"

"Kate?" She squints at us through the rain. "Taylor?!"

Oh, come on. She doesn't have to sound that shocked about it.

"We're here to help you!" Kate shouts. "We'll get you down!"

At least getting close to her won't be too hard. A bunch of junk has piled up right under the hole, making it pretty easy for me and Kate to climb up. From on top of it, I can clearly see the whirling storm approaching the bay.

"Holy shit," I say, almost transfixed by the sight. "Would you look at that fucking thing..."

It's huge. Like, mountain huge. It's weird that it looks like it's spinning so slowly, but even from here I can see how much water it's churning up. I really hope no one was out there. Then again, looking at the number of boats that've been straight-up thrown onto land, it anyone had been out on the water they sure as hell weren't anymore.

Shaking my head, I follow Kate to the edge. Alyssa's only about five feet higher than us now, but the real problem is the ten feet of distance between her edge and ours. There's no way she can jump it. We need a way to bridge the gap. Looking around, I spot a couple of long wooden boards that'll work.

"Kate, help me out with this."

Between the two of us, we lift the boards up and lay them side-by-side over the gap, making a nice, wide bridge.

"Come on, Alyssa!" Kate shouts, reaching out to the scared girl. "You just need to take my hand!"

Alyssa eyes our makeshift bridge hesitantly. "I...I don't know..."

"You can do it!" I shout. "We won't let you fall!"

"Alright. Okay." Taking a second to psych herself up, Alyssa takes a deep breath and rushes over to our side. The wooden planks barely move. I guess me and Kate built a pretty good bridge.

"Thank you! Oh god, thank you!" Alyssa cries, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. "I was so scared!

My arms are pretty much pinned to my sides, but I still try to return it as best as I can, patting her awkwardly on the back. "Uh...no problem."

"Seriously! You just totally saved my a-aah!" A sudden gust of wind takes us by surprise. Pushed off balance, Alyssa knocks into Kate, sending the smaller girl stumbling toward the edge.

"Kate!" I reach out to grab her, miss by inches, and see her pitch over the side. It's not very far to the ground - only seven or eight feet – but watching Kate fall makes it feel like a lot further. She lands with a dull thump, laying still on the pavement below, and for a second I feel my heart slam to a stop. Then I'm grabbing Alyssa by the arm and pulling her along as I scramble down to the ground.

Running around the junk pile, I feel like I could cry with relief when I see Kate already picking herself up, coughing loudly.

"Kate! Oh my god, are you okay?!"

"I'm...I'm okay." She nods. "Just got the wind knocked out of me."

Oh, thank god. It's okay. Kate's okay. She just had a little fall but she's back on her feet and everything is going to be...

"Uh...guys?" Alyssa's pointing at Kate's left arm and the growing patch of red on her sleeve.

"Hm?" Kate looks down, a little absently. "Oh. I must've cut myself when I fell."

"Here, let me see." Alyssa reaches out. "I know some first aid."

Kate waves her off. "It's okay. It doesn't even hurt."

"You're bleeding, Kate. Bleeding and not hurting does not equal okay."

Huffing a little, Kate holds her arm out. Carefully rolling up the sleeve, the first words out of Alyssa's mouth are, "Oh, shit."

"What?" Looking over Alyssa's shoulder, I feel my stomach roll a little at the slightly unnatural angle of Kate's left wrist. The scraped and bleeding skin doesn't help either. "Oh fuuuck..."

"Huh," Kate says, looking down. "It really doesn't hurt that much."

I will not throw up.

"Oh, it's gonna," Alyssa assures her.

I will not throw up.

"Shoulda known better," Kate murmurs, looking a little woozy. "Standing up on a high place. Never works out for me."

Alyssa turns to me. "We need to splint this."

"I...uh...yeah. Got it." I take a deep breath and - careful not to look directly at Kate's arm again – point the way back. "C'mon. There's a first aid kit back at the bus."

The trip back isn't easy; Kate's pretty wobbly on her feet, Alyssa's not exactly dressed for the weather, and I'm only 95% sure I'm not going to throw up. But a few minutes later, we're back in the wonderfully warm and dry bus.

"Fuck's sake, Alyssa," I grumble, pulling the first aid kit out from under the driver's seat. "What the hell were you doing up there?"

"Because I live there?"

"I meant why didn't you get out of town?"

"Why would I?"

"I dunno. Maybe because of the tornado warning?!" I say, and she gives me a confused look. "On your phone, remember?"

"My phone died after I fell in the pool." She shakes her head. "That's why I left the party early."

"That's...forget it." I don't have time to stand around and marvel at Alyssa Anderson's bad luck. Handing her the first aid kit, I ask, "You think you can handle this?"

"I..." She glances over to Kate's and nods slowly. "Yeah. I'm good."

"Cool. I'm gonna go see how the road clearing is doing." I flip my jacket's hood up and give Alyssa a quick smirk. "Kate's in charge until I get back." I look past her to Kate. "Don't let any of these assholes give you any shit, okay?"

"Okay." Kate gives me a watery smile and a thumbs up, then I'm back out into the rain.

Seriously, what the hell else could go wrong?

...I can't believe I just thought that.

"That was All Along The Watchtower from the legendary Jimi Hendrix, and this is Radio Free NOAA, rocking the bottom of the AM dial with the one and only Weatherman Cliff.

"Well folks, lemme tell ya, I've been a meteorologist for thirty-two years, and I've never even heard of a storm this powerful forming this rapidly. Honest to god, you're seeing history in the making.

"The NOAA has five offshore buoys I should be getting storm data from, and as of ten minutes ago I'm only getting a signal return from the two north of us. Before the other three stopped transmitting, though, they were showing reports of thirty-foot waves and windspeeds upwards of a hundred and eighty miles an hour. This thing is a monster, and it's coming right at us.

"I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to stay on the air, but if you haven't gotten the hell outta town yet, this might be your last chance. Lemme help you out with a little mood music. Here's April Wine's Sign of the Gypsy Queen."

Is that a whale?

Oh my god, is that an entire fucking whale just laying there in the middle of the street, right next to a diner called the Two Whales?!

That is so fucked up.

This whole thing is completely fucked up.

This is what Hell looks like in the movies, and I'm stuck right in the middle of it.

Stop.

Breathe.

Just gonna put that in a box with all the other stuff I'm going to freak out about later. I'll deal with it all when we're safe. Okay. I'm good.

Pulling my eyes off the dead whale, I happen to turn toward the diner just in time for a flicker of movement to catch my eye. Cupping my hands around my eyes and peering through the rain, I can definitely see a dim light glowing inside. "What the...?"

A second later, a shadow passes over one of the windows. There're people still in there.

I guess Bowers and Evan are gonna have to wait.

The place is in seriously rough shape. Part of the roof is collapsed, probably because the storm dropped a fucking boat on it, and a few of the windows are broken. Whoever's inside has put some metal sheeting from who-the-hell-knows-where up to keep the rain out, but it doesn't look like it'll hold for long. Most of the neon lights in the diner's sign are broken, and the few letters that aren't spell DIE.

Thanks, Universe. That's really fucking subtle.

Even from here, I can tell that the front door isn't an option. There's so much junk piled up against it that it'd take forever to get through, but they've gotta have a back door or something. Cutting around the side, I find an unlocked door that leads me through the kitchen and into the diner.

It's mostly dark inside, but a couple of candles give off just enough light to see the half dozen scared-looking people sitting around, and they're all gawking at me like I just appeared out of thin air.

The cook and one of the diner's waitresses are easy to recognize; the aprons are a dead giveaway. There's a guy sitting in one of the booths who looks even older than Doug, and this cranky-looking fisherman I'm pretty sure I've seen warming a stool in here a bunch of times. But the real surprise is Warren Graham, who's sitting on the floor with Brooke Scott huddled under his arm. Blackwell's two biggest nerds (and compared to Vicky, that's saying something) are both soaked to the bone and staring at me in disbelief.

"Uh...hey."

"T-Taylor?" Brooke asks, her teeth chattering a little, looking at me like she can't quite decide whether or not I'm real. "W-what are y-you d-doing here?"

"Saving your asses, apparently. I've got a bus outside and some people clearing shit out of the road." I gesture to the door, but no one moves to follow me. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

"Are you nuts?" the cook asks, scowling at me. "We can't go out there!"

"Well you sure as hell can't stay here." I point out one of the remaining windows at the rapidly approaching storm. "That thing is gonna rip this town to pieces. You really want to be here when it does?"

"We've got a better chance in here than we do driving around outside!"

Fuck this. There's no way I'm wasting my time arguing with this moron. "Whatever, pal. Your funeral."

"You can't j-"

"Come with me or stay here and take your chances." I say to the others, cutting him off. "What's it gonna be?"

For a second, no one moves. Then Brooke murmurs something to Warren, he nods, and the two of them climb to their feet. "We were walking on the beach when the weather got bad, and my c-"

"I seriously don't care," I interrupt.

"It's just that my car is still at Lighthouse Park," he says. "If you could drop us off th-"

"I'm not a fucking Uber, Warren. Are you coming or not?"

"Yeah, we're coming with you! Chill!"

"I am, too!" The old guy stands up from the booth and walks over a little unsteadily.

"Yeah." The fisherman agrees, shrugging. "Beats sitting around."

The waitress hesitates a second, then nods and moves to steady the old man; he smiles gratefully.

I turn to glare at the cook, who glares right back at me. After a few seconds, he looks away and mutters, "Well I'm sure not staying here alone."

"Good call. Let's go."

Pulling the first aid kit off the wall on our way out, I lead everyone to the back door. Before I open it, I turn around and give them what I hope looks like a confident smile. "It's pretty nasty out there. Just stick close to each other, watch out for flying trash, and follow me. We'll be there in no time."

I turn the handle, and the door is barely open a few inches before the wind yanks it from my grip. Raising one arm to shield my eyes, I reach back with the other and feel someone's hand grasp mine. It's small and cold as ice. I figure it must be Brooke, but I don't bother looking back to check. Whoever it is, I'm not letting go until they're safe.

Something about the narrow space between the diner and the building beside it makes it feel like we're in a wind tunnel, and more than a few times I'm certain that I'm about to get blown off my feet. It never happens, though. I just keep putting one foot in front of the other, moving steadily through the wind and rain toward the bus.

I'm so focused on that; I barely notice the first flickering light out of the corner of my eye. I almost dismiss it as a reflection off a puddle and I don't know what it is that makes me look again, but I turn my head just in time to see the fire rush along the ground, following a trail of spilled fuel all the way up to the diner. A second later, it meets up with what must've been an open gas line; I barely have time to shout a warning before the whole place explodes into flames.

I get knocked on my ass, scrambling back to my feet a second later and looking back to make sure I didn't lose anybody. "Fuck! Is everyone alright?!"

I guess the pouring rain was enough to keep the flames from reaching us. They all look a little stunned, but otherwise okay. The cook looks the worst, kneeling on the wet pavement and staring wide-eyed at the burning remains of the Two Whales diner.

"H-holy shit...that could've...we could've..."

"Freak out later!" I grab the guy by his arm and haul him to his feet. What the hell makes him think that this is a good time to sit around? "Move now!"

We make it back a minute later, but the bus's windows are so fogged up that they probably couldn't see us coming. I slam my hand on the door and it opens a second later to reveal Alyssa's shocked face. "What the...? Where the hell did they all come from?"

"Funny story, actually." I push her aside and start herding everyone in. "Did you see that explosion a minute ago?"

"That was an explosion?"

"Yup. And before that it was the Two Whales," I say, nodding. Stepping in and shutting the door, I lean close to one of the heater vents. "I think it was a gas line or something. Up until two minutes earlier, all of them had still been inside."

"Holy shit..." she breathes, staring at the flickering yellow glow that used to be a diner. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, for sure." I rub my hands together over the vent, feeling a tingling sensation as the warmth slowly seeps in. I can't believe how frigid the rain is. "It's super fucking fun out there. Can't wait to head back out."

"Y-y-you're l-leaving?" Brooke asks. She really doesn't look good. Turning the heater up to full, I angle the vent in her direction and try not to think about the gas gauge. We're down to a little more than quarter tank, since whoever drove this thing last didn't feel the need to top up the tank. And from the look of that huge fire down the road, we probably won't be fueling up on our way out of town.

"I have to go check how the road clearing is going. Just stay here and warm up, okay?" I turn to Alyssa. "We brought a few blankets from the hospital. They're around here somewhere."

"Uh...okay. Right." Alyssa nods, glancing around. "I'll just, er, find those."

"You can sit over here, Brooke," Kate pipes up, surprising them. She's got her injured wrist - which looks like it's been splinted with some scraps of cloth and a couple of broken pieces of wood – held close to her chest. Her other arm is curled protectively around my backpack, and the zipper is open just enough that I can see Alice peeking out curiously. "There's a heater right under this seat."

"K-Kate? What are you d-doing here?"

Kate glances at me, smiling. "Taylor left me in charge."

"That's right." I smile back. "Kate's the boss until I get back, okay?"

I don't bother waiting for a response. Throwing my hood up, I take a deep breath and prepare to go back out.

"Wait!" The fisherman from the diner grabs my shoulder before I can open the door. "We gotta go look for Carl!"

"What the...who the hell is Carl?"

"Carl Mitcham." He leans over (I don't think he's washed his sweater in a while) to point at a building across the road; it looks like there's a small fire inside. "He runs the bait shop. That's his car over there, but I ain't seen him since the weather got bad."

"I..." Damn it. I can't be everywhere at once and I need to know whether they've been able to clear the road at all. If they haven't, we'll want as much time as we can get to come up with another plan. But if there's still someone in there...

"I'll go." Warren volunteers. "I mean, I can't get any wetter, right?"

"You sure?" I ask.

"Seriously, I'm on it," Warren grins, though Brooke doesn't seem quite as enthusiastic. "You go check on the road."

"Good man!" Grinning, the fisherman loudly claps him in the shoulder and Warren winces a little. He takes a second to whisper something to Brooke (who I'm pretty sure would be blushing if she weren't so pale), then he's on his feet and headed outside.

"Brooke, was it?" I hear Jillian murmur as I let the other two go ahead of me.

"Y-yeah?"

"I think you got yourself a keeper there."

I glance back just in time to see Brooke smile shyly. "...yeah."

"And that was Stairway to Heaven from the immortal Led Zeppelin. I wanna remind you folks that central Arcadia Bay is pretty much a disaster area. So, if you're south of town, keep moving south. I've got a couple of cameras up on the Doppler tower, and one of them is showing me a huge fire on the north edge of town right where the gas station used to be. And while it's not the best quality image, I'm ninety percent sure the Two Whales diner is no more.

"A moment of silence, brothers and sisters, for the loss of her world-famous waffles and a truly glorious jukebox.

"...

"Thanks, folks. I dunno about you, but this seems like a good time for the James Taylor classic, Fire and Rain."