Page 185 of The Storm Boys Series Collection

I grabbed three bottles, and a few minutes later, the three of us settled on the couch with our beers, my head on Jeremiah’s shoulder. “Are we ready?” I asked, pointing the remote control at the TV.

Jeremiah kissed the top of my head. “Always.”

The end

TOUCH THE LIGHTNING

CHAPTER ONE

JEREMIAH

Twenty-three.

Twenty-three people had died in Cyclone Hazer, and a month later, I thought of them often.

Twenty-three.

A number I couldn’t get out of my head.

Tully had told me I wasn’t responsible for them, and the logical part of my brain knew he was right. “You saved countless more,” he’d said. And he’d been patient with me, and he was kind and supportive. He was utterly perfect.

While I felt hopeless. And helpless.

I needed to work. I needed to get back into it and be productive. I needed to be functioning normally.

And my office was not functioning at all.

I had only a department-supplied laptop—since my own was fried from the electrical surge when we were at the bunker, and then of course with the cyclone—but I was grateful they’d sent me anything.

I’d added all the data I’d collected for my personal reports. I’d collated stats and figures on heart rates during storms and the cyclone, from both my chest strap and watch. It was interesting, to say the least. And I’d collected more statistical analysis in my time here than I had in the few years prior.

But it wasn’t work.

It was the longest time in my life when I hadn’t been actively working, or studying for work, or doing something productive. I needed it.

So yes, the laptop was great, and it allowed me to stay in touch with the bureau and for me to watch radar loops for hours on end. But it wasn’t enough to run the office.

All official bureau warnings for the Northern Territory were being run out of Queensland and Western Australia, and I had to wonder if they had any intention of ever re-opening the Darwin office at all.

Perhaps they were waiting for the media hype to have fully dissipated before they announced I was fired.

And there had been media hype.

Which was ridiculous. But yes, the blue-eyed weather guy—whose mother was the famous lightning-strike lady—had managed to send a warning message out via an old radar system by typing it over the office location sequence.

Well, there had been media hype across Australia, and even made news around the world, but not so much here in Darwin.

Given everyone was without power initially, then most news reports and updates pertained to health and safety information, it wasn’t surprising my story got buried.

And I was glad it had been.

Tully’s family knew, of course. He’d replayed the news footage a hundred times. And Doreen knew because she’d witnessed it.

But no one else gave a damn.

Thank God.

We had enough to worry about. Supermarkets were rationed, but we had power. Our phone lines were restored after a few days, and internet a few days after that. Many people were displaced, many people injured.

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