Chapter 197: The Weather Had Terrible Timing

Dove looked at the lifting edge of their salvaged awning and reached for her cup before it could become the evening’s first casualty. Thorne was already standing. Edrik carried the plates inside while she checked the street.

The maintenance worker pointed toward the darker sky. A dust-storm warning had come through the district radio. Guards were directing people indoors while shopkeepers covered their goods. Beyond the roofs, the brown cloud kept rising. Dove had been waiting for the heat to break. Apparently the weather had decided hot air wasn’t unpleasant enough without filling it with dirt.

She told the men to take the food first, then covered their water and carried the owned goods and sample inside before the wind strengthened. Nobody was eating a mouthful of sand because she had saved a display instead of dinner. She packed the empty storefront and moved their recovered counter away from the glass.

A bent metal catch jammed the awning halfway down; Thorne touched it and shaped the opening just wide enough to release the frame. Edrik reinforced the frame while they lowered it, then fastened it shut with ordinary restraints before removing his hand. Both carts went against the sheltered yard wall, clear of the drain. The pickup stayed in its higher marked space.

"I was planning to complain about Ash all evening," she said. "Now the weather wants a turn."

"You can complain against my chest," Edrik told her. "I’ll look concerned. It’ll be very convincing."

"As long as dinner comes too," she said, following him with the last cup. The wind whipped her loose hair across her mouth, giving her another reason to hurry.

Edrik had already set her plate between the other two. "Sit here. You can tell me everything wrong with the weather while we eat."

That improved the plan considerably. They ate in the rear room with their drinking water covered and the charged light beside the bed. Dove wasn’t going back outside for anything that couldn’t knock and ask for help.

The first wave left grit along the windowsill and heat trapped in their bedroom. In the morning, Day One Hundred One, a district announcement warned that the worst winds were still coming. The fan worked, the tap ran during its usual hours, and the bakery opened behind covered windows. People were preparing to get through this, not abandoning the base. She washed with pond water, ate breakfast, and finished fifteen minutes of practice, distracted by the brown sky throughout.

She chose equipment and reopened inside, clear of the curtain. Sprout offered large waterproof tarps, five sales for sixty-eight normal coins. Six units were available. Dove looked at the preview, then at the dust gathering against the window.

"If you knew about this yesterday, I have a complaint."

"I don’t forecast storms. I can show the tarp’s size and fastening points."

"Fine. Show me what it can actually cover before I sell somebody a very disappointing roof."

Thorne laughed from the counter. She pointed at him and told him to help display the sample before he became part of her complaint too.

Customers came early. Some wanted to cover goods, others needed temporary protection for an exposed work area. Dove sold five units before lunch, explaining the ordinary limits and refusing to imply a tarp could make a dangerous roof safe. The sixth stayed behind glass until she knew whether somebody needed it.

The restaurant served lunch from its side door while staff covered the outdoor tables. Dove’s household ate properly, then helped move their own perishables into the tested cooling unit during the available supply window. Pantry stock remained separate. A kitchen worker packed the remaining cooked chicken for the staff while the owner checked the chilled food. There was plenty to eat; keeping it at the right temperature was the part that needed attention.

Iris sent a brief message through her husband: the kitchens were delaying nonessential deliveries until the storm passed. Dove thanked him. Nobody needed her dragging goods through flying grit just to prove she could turn up on time. Her own closed sign went up earlier than usual.

After lunch, Dove checked the path between the shop and the yard. The bedroom opened into the shop through the curtain, and the rear door led to the shared storage yard beside the restaurant. Their carts were tucked against the sound wall, with enough room left for people to reach the side passage.

Thorne found her looking at the sky from beneath the overhang. He rested a hand at her back, warm through her shirt.

"Come sit down," he said. "We’ve done what we can for now."

She went inside with him. Edrik had kept her drink covered and the seat between them clear. Dove sat and took a long swallow, grateful she could worry here instead of standing in the yard pretending to supervise the sky.

The daylight turned brown while they were putting away lunch. Dust blew across the street so thickly that the bakery opposite disappeared. Dove shut the rear door, coughing, and grabbed a clean cloth before the next gust could blow grit into her mouth.

"Cover your faces," she told the men. "And bring the light."

Something slammed against the restaurant wall. The crash was followed by a shout, and Thorne was at the rear window before she reached him. Beyond the narrow yard, a sheet of roofing had torn loose above the storage shed.

A kitchen worker had been closing its door. Now he was trapped between the twisted frame and the wall, one sleeve caught beneath a hanging strip of metal. He kept trying to pull free while the roof shifted above him.

"Stop pulling!" Dove called through the door. "Look at me. We’re coming, but you’ve got to stop moving that frame."

He went still. She could see his face when her light cut through the dust, and she stayed where he could see hers. Thorne checked the sound side of the frame while Edrik braced it. The door couldn’t open without bringing the hanging roof down into the passage.

Dove wanted to drag the man out herself. She made herself look first, spotting the narrow strip of concrete beside the wall that wasn’t covered in loose metal. She pointed it out to Thorne, then moved their basin clear of the route. There would be somewhere to bring the worker if they could get him free.

Dove heard voices from the street and looked through the side gap. Two maintenance men were coming around the building with a tall horned figure behind them. Ash had a fresh security band around his upper arm. He caught sight of her and changed direction so sharply that one of the maintenance men had to step out of his way.

"Get inside, Dove. I can handle this."

Thorne glanced at Dove. She looked at the passage, at the worker trying not to panic, and at the loose roof above him.

"You can handle that roof with them," she said. "I’m keeping the light on the man underneath it. Try remembering who actually needs rescuing."