Storm Season (3 page)

Tobias grabbed Jasper’s arm as soon as the car stopped.

No! Go! Danger! Go!

The words repeated again and again and Jasper could feel Tobias’s terror. Before Jasper realized what he was doing, his fingers were fumbling for the keys so he could start the car and drive it as quickly as it would go. Rationally, Jasper knew they were safer stopped, but at the moment, it didn’t matter. He felt an unbearable urge to drive, to get home where they could hide inside from the storm.

He reached up to adjust the mirror and Tobias’s fingers slipped from his arm. The feelings ceased as suddenly as they’d begun and he turned the car off again. It was foolish to drive.

Tobias’s eyes widened as the key turned, and he made the first sound Jasper had heard from him―a soft whimper that tore into Jasper’s heart. He looked at Tobias, who huddled as close to the center of the car as possible, his knees pulled up to his chest and his chin tucked.

“It’s all right. This is just a little one.” Jasper’s hand hovered over Tobias’s shoulder. He wanted to comfort him but was afraid to touch.

Dark curls bounced as Tobias shook his head. The set of his jaw told Jasper he wouldn’t be believed until… until now.

The rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun and within moments the clouds had cleared and the sun started drying the pavement. Tobias uncurled and pressed his face to the window to watch the dark clouds in the west, and Jasper turned the key to start the car. He flicked the lever, let the windshield wipers fling the remaining water droplets off the glass, and pulled out.

“W
HAT
was that?” Jasper had waited until they’d brought the food inside and packed it away in the safe room, but when Tobias brushed against him and he was reminded of the strange feeling from the car, he couldn’t wait any longer.

Tobias blinked and reached out, but Jasper had stepped back, reluctant to let Tobias touch him. The words popping into his head were disconcerting enough, but when he started feeling things and, worse, started
responding
to those feelings, he needed answers… and he needed to get them without anything else strange happening.

A puzzled expression flickered across Tobias’s face, and then he stepped forward and tried to touch Jasper again. Jasper dodged, leaving Tobias looking bewildered and a little frustrated.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I won’t do it again, I promise.

Jasper’s head started to throb as he strained to listen. This was not the soft, gentle intrusion Jasper had almost grown used to. He could hear Tobias despite the distance between them, but it felt as though it was being thrust straight through his skull rather than slipped in gently. The more Jasper strained to hear it, the more his head hurt, and when Tobias stopped, a blinding headache pierced Jasper’s skull. Hoping darkness would relieve some of the pain, he squeezed his eyes shut.

When he opened his eyes again, Tobias was sitting on the floor, looking pale and ill. His earlier fears forgotten, Jasper rushed forward and knelt with one hand on Tobias’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

It’s harder with you.
The sensation was once again gentle.

Jasper’s brow furrowed as he tried to understand what Tobias meant. “What’s harder?” he finally asked, keeping his voice soft so it didn’t aggravate the pain in his skull.

This.
Tobias managed a weak smile as he grabbed Jasper’s hand and held on so tightly Jasper felt as though his fingers were going to break under the pressure.
It’s so hard to make you hear me if I’m not touching you. Why can’t you hear me if I don’t touch you?

“I… I don’t know.” Jasper sat down. The floor was too hard for him to kneel long. “I don’t even know how you do that, or what it is, really.” He couldn’t provide answers. He had more questions than the man-child sitting in front of him.

But―

“I don’t know, Tobias.” He placed the index finger of his free hand over Tobias’s lips, shushing him despite the lack of sound. It was a habit deeply ingrained from years past when he’d spent more time around people and he’d often had to quiet talkative children.

Tobias responded the same way most of the children Jasper had once quieted used to. The question stopped immediately and he looked at Jasper with a confused but apologetic gaze.

He didn’t know what he’d done wrong.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, Tobias. I don’t know how this works.” Jasper lifted their joined hands. The tips of his fingers were so red they were almost purple. He looked away, focusing on Tobias’s face as he tried to ignore the pain in his hand. “It’s probably harder to talk to me without touching for the same reason I can’t talk to you that way, but I don’t know what it is. I don’t know why I don’t talk like you… or why you don’t talk like me.”

Tobias’s fingers loosened and then slid from Jasper’s. He climbed shakily to his feet, wrapped his arms around his chest, and staggered from the room.

T
HEY
didn’t bother attempting to sleep in the bedrooms that night. After they’d eaten dinner and taken care of the animals, Tobias grabbed Jasper’s arm, tugged him past the worn flannel and denim, and fumbled with the latch at the back of the closet. His fingers trembled and he jumped every time there was a rumble of thunder from the approaching storm, so Jasper took over, smoothly lifting the latch and pushing the thick door inward.

Tobias scrambled inside, pulling Jasper after him, and pushed the door shut with a frantic effort Jasper had never mustered, not even when the worst of the storms had taken him by surprise. When the door was firmly shut and locked against the relatively mild wind and rain, Tobias relaxed, sinking to the ground with his back against the thick wood.

A crash of thunder made him jump again, and the jerky movement startled Jasper. He dropped the book he’d chosen to read before settling in for the night. Mentally scolding himself, Jasper placed the book back on the table and opened the small cabinet that housed the weather monitoring equipment. The screen glowed when he flicked the switch, brightening the dimly lit room and bringing tears of irritation to Jasper’s eyes. When his vision cleared, Jasper frowned, twisted a knob back and forth, and bit his lower lip.

The screen showed a dark cluster over the house―heavy storm activity that wouldn’t have fazed him a month from now or back on the coast but was far too strong for the here and now. Even more troubling was the dark mass on the edge of the screen: there would be a break after this storm, but the one coming looked to be as bad as any in the height of the season.

The coming weeks would be busy if they were going to get through the wet season unscathed this year.

T
HE
ground squelched under Jasper’s feet and the moisture-rich air left him gasping as he dashed across the lawn to the open barn door. Scraps of wood littered the ground near the entrance, making the last few feet treacherous, but Jasper didn’t stop until his bare feet hit dry ground inside the building and his hand closed over the light switch. Nothing happened when he flicked it, and he frantically fumbled for the flashlight, knocking cans and tools to the floor as he blindly searched. He yelped and leaped back, breathing heavily, but calmed when the barn burst into life.

The flashlight showed the horses safely ensconced in their stalls. The barn cat and her kittens peered out from behind a straw bale, and the goat was unconcernedly chewing on a work shirt that had been blown off its peg. Jasper let out a relieved breath and patted TJ’s neck as the horse whuffed at his hair and whinnied with an air of impatience.

“I know. The door needs fixing.” It had needed fixing for weeks, but the storms had come early, Jasper’s mysterious guest had distracted him from mundane chores, and now it was too late.

The electricity would have to wait until morning, when―if luck held―there would be sunlight and enough dry hours to find and repair the damage. The door couldn’t wait, though there wasn’t time for a proper fix. The animals had been fortunate, but Jasper had seen the monitor and knew what kind of storm was coming.

Lightning was flashing in the west by the time Jasper had patched the holes with plywood and was struggling to nail a two-by-four over the barn doors. He wedged one shoulder under the wood, positioned a nail awkwardly with his left hand, and hefted the hammer in his right. As he swung, the board slipped, brushing his ear as it tumbled over his back and clattered to the ground.

“Dammit!” He wedged himself under the board again, closer to the middle this time, and struggled to line up hammer and nail again.

Let me.

The hammer hit Jasper’s thumb as he jerked. “Fuck!”

Sorry. I didn’t mean… are you…?
Slender fingers danced over the injury.
Do you need help?

“Hold the board.” There wasn’t time to nurse his thumb or figure out what had convinced Tobias to leave the safety of the house. He’d barely been willing to let Jasper leave the tiny room, and now he was outside, braving rising winds and distant flashes of lightning.

When the first drops of rain fell, they’d nailed four boards across the doors. It wasn’t pretty and would be a pain to break into in the morning, but it would probably hold through the night.

T
OBIAS
proved remarkably capable of helping repair the barn, and when a rusted truck pulled up just before lunchtime, they were about finished. With a grin, Jasper hammered in the last two nails and tucked the hammer into his belt. “Darius! It’s good to see you.”

The sandy-haired man grabbed Jasper’s arm and pulled him into a hug. “You too. I brought your order, and some extra too, if you’re interested. Carla loaded extras on the train this time, and a good thing too. Nothing else is getting out from the coast until spring.”

“That bad?”

“Yeah. The rails flooded two days after our train got through. Lucky Carla.”

“And us.” Without the business Darius and Carla shared, bringing goods from the coast to the town, Brightam’s Ford would be hard pressed to get through the winter. “Carla always did have a sixth sense about that kind of thing.”

“That she has. Serves her well.”

“It serves you
both
well. Where is she?” Jasper’s eyes flicked to the empty truck cab. “She’s not being lazy, is she?”

“Sleet, no.” Darius laughed. “She’s looking into buying a train, actually. We heard there was one for sale and it seemed like a good idea. We almost couldn’t convince our usual guy to bring us out here. She’ll be out when she’s done.”

Jasper nodded, and pulled the tarp off the truck. “Just when we finish, I bet. Too late to help unload, but early enough to eat my food and drink my beer.”

“That’s Carla. You know she―” Darius stopped suddenly and then his voice dropped to a whisper. “Jasper… there’s someone in your barn.”

“Someone…?” Jasper peered over Darius’s shoulder to see Tobias on his back on a hay bale, three kittens sprawled on his chest. “Oh. That’s Tobias. He’s staying with me this wet season.”

“Who exactly is he? A name doesn’t give me much, Jas.”

“I don’t know.” Jasper shrugged, grinned at his friend’s dumbfounded expression, and led the way into the barn. “I found him last week―or maybe he found me―but I can’t turn him out now, not when he doesn’t have anywhere to go.” He pushed the box onto the shelf and placed the one Darius had been carrying next to it. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

“I guess he
looks
harmless enough.”

Tobias was completely absorbed with the cats and hadn’t appeared to hear Darius’s muttered words. When Jasper stopped over him, he grinned, gently removed the animals from his chest, and sat up.

“Darius, this is Tobias. Tobias, this is my friend Darius.”

Tobias’s eyes flickered uncertainly to Jasper, but Darius stepped forward and held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s okay.” Jasper nodded at Darius’s hand and with his lower lip caught between his teeth and his brow furrowed, Tobias slowly gripped the outstretched fingers.

“Hailstones!” Darius staggered backward, his eyes never leaving Tobias’s fingers. “What in the world was that?”

I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!
The panicked words entered Jasper’s mind with a force that nearly drove him to his knees. This was no barely audible call, but a full-fledged scream that left him feeling as though his brain would ooze out his ears and his eyeballs would pop if it continued any longer. He grabbed Tobias’s hand, but the pain only grew worse as Tobias’s mental voice intensified.
Darius, Jasper, please! Don’t! I’m sorry!

“Come on!” Somehow, Darius had crossed the distance between them and was pulling Jasper up and away from Tobias. “Let’s go!”

No!
Tobias tightened his grip on Jasper’s hand.
Don’t go with him!

“I….”

Another tug from Darius slid Jasper’s fingers almost free. “Jasper!”

No!

“Stop! Both of you!” Jasper looked up, wondered how he’d gotten on the ground, and yanked both hands free. “He’s not going to hurt me.” He wasn’t sure who he was addressing.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Hazel eyes glared over thick fingers as Darius pinched the bridge of his nose. “He about had both of us on the floor.”

“It doesn’t hurt when he touches you. I should have warned you. It’s how he talks.”

Darius’s elegantly raised eyebrow was at odds with the snort he gave as he tossed his head and winced, but he stayed still as Tobias reached out and lightly touched Jasper’s shoulder. All three men flinched.

I’m sorry.
Tobias’s voice was quieter than a whisper.
I didn’t mean to scare him… or hurt either of you.
Dark brows furrowed and Tobias’s lip was again caught in his teeth.
I don’t know why it hurts you when I broadcast. It’s…

“Inconvenient?” Jasper finished, his own voice sounding loud in comparison.