Riding in a harness behind Nat as she rode lightning hurt worse than the first time I rode a harness with Jack Dailey. That time I was just terrified. This time I was pissed because I couldn’t ride it myself.
Like losing part of myself.
We landed on top of the anvil of the largest thunderstorm we could find, currently making its way over Chicago. The storm was kicking out inter- and intra-cloud lightning every couple of seconds. This was a nasty storm. It might even be strong enough to warrant breaking it up before it ripped the barrier between planes of existence. That was our primary job, after all. Don’t allow the nasty bugaboos bearing tentacles for lips or eyeballs for teeth into our reality. Turned out that the power of mother nature was more than reality could actually handle, so we had to kind of moderate it.
“Well, this is weird,” I said.
“What?” Nat said.
“I’m feeling something.”
“I don’t know.”
“Does it hurt?” Kate asked.
“No. It just feels weird. Like . . . like when you try and two push magnets of the same pole together. A push against me.”
“Weird,” the women said, together.
“Also, there’s a random tingle.”
“Like a spider-sense?” Kate asked.
“Nerd,” Nat said.”
“You know it, bitch,” Kate fired back.
“No, not like a spider-sense.”
“You have a Reilly tingle. It better not be where I think it is.”
Nat laughed at that.
“No,” I said.
“You’re sure?” Nat said suggestively.“I will if you keep up like that!”