The Storm

Other books by Colleen Winter The Gatherer The Disruptors The Storm Copyright © 2023 by Colleen Winter All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishment, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book. First Electronic Edition: May 2023 ISBN-13: 978-1-7776132-8-0 First Print Edition: May 2023 ISBN-13: 978-1-7780365-0-7 First Hard Cover Edition: May 2023 ISBN-13: 978-1-7776132-9-7 Cover Design by Design for Writers To my parents, Patricia and Stewart, for showing me how to follow my dreams and take chances. Contents ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTY-ONE TWENTY-TWO TWENTY-THREE TWENTY-FOUR TWENTY-FIVE TWENTY-SIX TWENTY-SEVEN TWENTY-EIGHT TWENTY-NINE THIRTY THIRTY-ONE THIRTY-TWO THIRTY-THREE THIRTY-FOUR THIRTY-FIVE THIRTY-SIX THIRTY-SEVEN Acknowledgements About the Author “The day science begins to study non-physical phenomena; it will make more progress in a decade than in all the previous centuries of its existence.” —Nikola Tesla ONE STORM Storm stumbled on the path, the vision of what she had witnessed in the clearing blocking out all else. There had been an excruciating, searing burn as the Gatherer’s corrupted field had stripped away her energy, leaving her bare and raw. She could feel the damage that underlay the wonder and the sheer awe of what she had seen. It had been a glimpse of what had brought all the people to the clearing. It wasn’t a path or a channel or even the Gatherer, but an awareness of something bigger. Something so infinite it had shut out all else. Part of her wanted to go back to it, for even the slightest touch of it again. Yet the part of her that wanted to live kept her stumbling down the path. She struggled to find the trail in the dark forest and used the rough bark of the trees as guideposts. She anchored herself to the wetness of the ferns against her legs, the strike of water drops on her face. When she reached the log they had climbed over on the way in, she pressed her hands into the wet sponginess of the moss and turned to let Maria and Amanda catch up. A new rush of rain pattered on the empty path. When had they last been behind her? She had no memory of their footsteps or their breath. She had seen only the spectacle of the Gatherer, the exquisite up-front view of a tiger’s face before it eats you alive. Rain ran onto the back of her hands and formed rivers over her skull. She leaned against the log, not knowing whether to go forward or back. Maria had drilled into their heads that if they were separated, she was to return to the vehicle. Yet it made no sense that they weren’t here with her. They had only been steps behind. She was saved from her indecision by a movement further back on the trail, a bobbing light coming towards her. A white flash raced in front of the light that formed into the shape of a dog, darting silent and fast through the ferns. It stopped abruptly in front of her, its head held high, the short rhythm of its panting crowding in between the sound of the rain. It was a beautiful creature, with long white hair and a patch on its face; no hint of aggression, simply the joy of running free in the woods. She felt a short ache for Blue, her sole companion for so many months in the Yukon. “Hey, bud.” The dog gave a short wag of its tail, before a single high-pitched bark. “Yeah, yeah. We know. You found me.” The dog looked back to the lights that had almost reached them. One of the figures holding them was tall and male, the other short, the underbrush at the side of the trail as high as her waist. The dog barked again; its ears perked forward. “Sasha!” The woman’s voice split the quiet of the forest. The dog pranced backwards and the woman rested her hand on its back, her short stoutness at odds with the elegance of the dog. Gwyneth, the smiling, self-proclaimed spiritual leader of the retreat that was home to the corrupted Gatherer, was breathing hard, her dark curls plastered to her head. The man shone his flashlight in Storm’s eyes, and she raised her hand to block the light. Gwyneth stepped closer. The dog took it as a cue to say hello and Storm opened her free hand to it, and carefully rubbed behind its ears. Its wagging tail thumped against the log as it pressed its body against her knees. “Is it really you?” Storm could see nothing beyond the flashlight shining in her eyes. “Can you point that somewhere else?” The light moved down, highlighting the dog pressed against her legs. “Sash, come here!” The pressure on Storm’s legs eased, the dog’s ears tuned to something in the woods. “Come here!” With a casual leap, Sasha cleared the log and raced into the woods. Gwyneth frowned as she watched the dog go, before her focus returned to Storm. “How can you be here?” Gwyneth had partially recovered, suspicion replacing the reverent awe. The man stayed behind her, holding something in his hand that she couldn’t see. She sat down on