I fumbled to crank open one of the old wooden shutters covering the forward windows. Black night out there. I couldn’t see Unca Joe from this angle, but the usual watch torches tossed ruddy light across a flurry of motion: heads, backs, and arms hard at work across the Lagoon. But quietly, like a video with the sound thumbed off. Was I still dreaming?

“Whassit?” Daniel murmured, winding a groggy arm around my waist to draw me down again. “Mmmm . . .”

“No, wait. Daniel, there’s something odd . . . the swell . . .”

“Tide . . .”

“No, it’s like . . . waves.”

He heard the worry in my voice and sat up, yawning but assessing. “The storm.”

“Already?” How long had we slept? “We were supposed to have three days!”

He yawned some more, put both feet on the floor. “The really big ones send messages ahead.”

“But there’s so much to do!”

He sighed and reached to turn on the tiny bed light. “Then we’d better get to it.”

Two quick showers later, we went out on the stern deck to see what was up. The air was heavier than ever. Couldn’t move without breaking a sweat. And, sure enough, there was my weather itch stirring, a prickle in the back of my brain.

“Well, if it isn’t Sleeping Beauty and her Prince . . .” Breakers opened the panel of her dark lantern. She sat cross-legged on the cabin roof, the inevitable rifle resting across her thighs. “Thought I heard you banging around in there.”

I scowled up at her. “Ha, ha.”

Daniel offered his ready smile. “What’re you doing up? What time is it, anyway?”

“Too late.” Breakers patted her rifle. “You think incinerating a few Adders makes us safe as houses?”

“It couldn’t hurt.”

Breakers’ long hair was splayed around her shoulders like a dark hood. Her eyes were shadowed but her lopsided grin caught the lantern light. “Nah, you did good. We’re all in your debt.”

Daniel sketched a satirical bow and changed the subject. “What’s up with the storm? Got a swell on already.”

Breakers stared into the night like she’d spotted the Big One raging up the avenue. “CB chatter says it’s moving way faster than expected and we’re dead in its sights. It’s got a name now. Leon.”

I wondered who was left with the authority to name hurricanes. Was there still some place where the old order prevailed? Maybe where Julian and Hannah were headed? And we were not. Was I having second thoughts? Was Daniel? If so, he gave no sign of it.

“Superstorm Leon,” Breakers repeated. “Nice sound to it, yeah? I had a friend once named Leon. Really cool guy.”

All of Breakers’ friends seemed to exist in past tense.

“So, we’re on night shift?”

“24/7. They’re talking one hell of a blow. Category 6.”

“There’s no such thing.”