Chasing the storm

Chapter 16: Into the Storm

(Rowan's POV )

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The second we stepped outside, I knew this was going to be hell.

The storm had gotten worse.

Wind tore through the streets, rattling everything in its path. The sky was a swirling mess of dark clouds, angry and unpredictable. Rain pelted down in sheets, soaking through my jacket within seconds.

And we were supposed to survive this?

"Stay close," Oliver called, his voice barely carrying over the wind. "If we get separated, we're screwed."

No one argued.

I glanced to my side.

Sienna was already shivering, pulling her jacket tighter around her. Her hair stuck to her face, droplets sliding down her cheek.

I don't know why I noticed.

Or why it bugged me.

I adjusted my bag, stepping closer. "You good, Sunshine?"

She froze.

Her head snapped up, her brows furrowing. "What did you just call me?"

I smirked, despite the situation. "You heard me."

"Sunshine?" she repeated, glaring.

"Yeah," I shrugged. "Figured it suits you."

Sienna scoffed. "How, exactly?"

I gestured vaguely. "You're small, annoying, and somehow still too damn bright, even in a disaster."

She narrowed her eyes. "That is the worst nickname I've ever heard."

"And yet," I said, leaning closer, "you're still thinking about it."

She huffed and stomped ahead.

Oliver gave me a look. "You really can't help yourself, can you?"

I grinned. "Not even a little."

But the amusement didn't last long.

Because the storm was not playing around.

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By the time we reached the old fire station, my arms felt like lead.

The wind had been relentless, nearly knocking us off our feet multiple times. The roads were almost impossible to navigate, flooded and broken, debris everywhere.

And the worst part?

It was too quiet.

No sign of people. No sounds of life.

Just the storm.

Oliver pointed to the entrance. "We go in fast. Grab supplies. Get out."

I nodded. "I'll take upstairs. You and Sunshine handle the main floor."

Sienna muttered something under her breath but didn't argue.

We pushed inside.

The air was stale. Dust and dampness clung to everything, the station clearly abandoned for a while.

I moved fast, checking each room. Most of the lockers were empty, but I managed to find an old first-aid kit, a flashlight, and a fire axe.

Better than nothing.

Then—

A sound.

I froze.

A creak, somewhere behind me.

I turned sharply, my grip tightening on the axe.

"Sienna?" I called out.

No answer.

My pulse kicked up.

Then—footsteps.

Not hers.

Someone else's.

We weren't alone.

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