Desperate Creed

by Alex Kava

  “We’re in a tornado warning,” Jason said. He found a station reporting the weather and left it there.

  “Sheriff said it would be like this all weekend.”

  “We’ve both been to Afghanistan. How bad can it be?”

  Creed didn’t answer. He was remembering the Garner’s vehicle. It certainly looked like an IED had blown it up. The gas station had been reduced to piles of bricks and boards. Pine trees snapped in half. He’d seen mortars demolish entire Afghan villages to empty hulls. But it was hard to wrap his mind around the fact that this destruction had been caused by forces of wind, and not any explosives.

  They hadn’t driven for more than ten minutes when dark clouds started gathering in the west. This section of the interstate, the north and south bound lanes were separated by a wide median filled with hardwood trees, so thick and so tall it was impossible to see what was on the other side. Occasionally, through a sliver between trees Creed could see the other lanes of traffic.

  Behind them it was growing dark enough that the vehicles following now had their headlights on. Creed kept glancing at his mirrors and each time the gray mass seemed to creep closer, swallowing every last piece sky.

  He craned his neck until he could get a glimpse of Grace in her crate. She had her nose pressed against the metal grate of her door.

  “You okay, Grace?” he asked and Jason twisted in his seat to take a look back.

  “They can feel the storm,” Jason said.

  “She can smell it.”

  Jason was still turned looking out the rear window.

  “Man, it’s getting wicked back there.”

  Just then, the radio started blaring with the emergency broadcast system. The robotic voice told them a tornado had been spotted on the ground six miles west of Hayneville moving north, northeast. A tornado warning is in effect for Lowndes County.

  “Where’s Hayneville?” Jason asked as he pulled out his cell phone and started tapping up map coordinates.

  “Looks like Lowndes County is up above Butler. Isn’t that where we were yesterday? And we’re now in...” He looked back at his phone. “Montgomery County. It must be behind us.”

  The emergency broadcast ended and a weather report came on with the meteorologist repeating the information. Creed clicked up the volume:

  “Folks in in Hayneville, you need to take cover now. Go to the lowest level of your house. If you’re in a trailer, get to your neighbors. Get off the road and into a building. You need to move to the middle, away from windows. Cover your head. And folks in Montgomery County, you need prepare for this tornado. The National Weather Service hasn’t issued a warning for Montgomery County yet, but I’m telling you, if you’re in the suburbs of Montgomery, you need to be looking for this tornado to be headed your way.”

  Jason twisted in his seat again to look out the back window, “It’s really dark back there.”

  Creed glanced into the side mirror in time to see the cloud-to-ground lightning. It illuminated the entire sky.

  A semi truck roared by in the lane next to them, and Creed started looking for an exit. There were no signs promising any escapes in the next several miles.

  “Maybe we should get off the interstate.” Jason said, as if he were reading Creed’s mind.

  “Some of the backroads wind in all directions. That might not be a good idea. We could get trapped.”

  Another truck zoomed by, its wake shoved at the Jeep, almost knocking them aside. Were they oblivious to the warnings or trying to outrun the storm?

  “So maybe you need to speed up,” Jason said.

  Creed still couldn’t see anything to their left. The continuous mass of trees blocked the horizon. But he did notice the black clouds coming over the tops of the branches. They were churning and so was his stomach.

  The rain came as a downpour. No droplets. No pitter-patter. A sudden sheet of water that the windshield wipers couldn’t keep up with. All Creed could see ahead was the blur of taillights. Cars were still passing on his left. The trees blocking the horizon started to sway.

  The first ping of hail rattled him into a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. The clatter on the roof that followed sounded like it could break a hole in the metal. He worried it would shatter the windshield.

  “Son of a bitch,” Jason said.

  Creed could feel the kid’s tension. He wanted to tell him to calm down, but he was pretty sure he had every right to feel tense. They were in trouble, and he didn’t even need to look at Grace to see how true that was.

  39

  SOUTH OF MONTGOMERY, Alabama

  Creed wondered how it was possible. The faster he drove, the darker the sky got. It was pitch black behind him. He still couldn’t see a thing to the west. The ridge of trees in the median continued to block his view. The hail had stopped, but the rain continued.

  “It just looks like a massive thunderstorm,” Jason said. He was turned and straining against his seatbelt, so he could watch out the rear window. “I don’t see anything resembling a tornado. Maybe it’s not even close.”

  Still, Creed turned up the radio, but the meteorologist had a whole new list of other tornado warnings in other counties. Willis Dean kept reminding them, “Even if your county isn’t listed, watch the sky. Conditions could change very quickly.”

  Creed glanced down at the compass in the Jeep’s dashboard. The meteorologist had said the tornado was moving north, northeast. They were traveling northeast. Just when he told himself they were moving along right in its path, the rain let up. The sky in front of them seemed to lighten.

  He felt like he could breathe again. Up ahead the ridge of trees in the median would be ending soon. Now, between the trees he could see a few on-coming headlights on the southbound lanes. His foot even eased up on the accelerator.

  “We should be able to see better pretty soon,” Creed told Jason and gestured to the empty median.

  The tree line finally ended. Their view was, indeed, better.

  “Oh my God! It’s right there!” Jason whispered.

  Creed glanced over then did a double-take. The trees had been hiding it. There was no mistaken the black swirling wedge emerging from the gray mass. He swore he could feel its energy. A bolt of lightning illuminated its core.

  “You can see debris in the air. That thing is massive,” Jason said.

  The radio started squawking the emergency broadcast system warning for a tornado on the ground.

  Jason punched the volume down. “Yeah, no shit!”

  Creed stepped on the accelerator.

  “Ryder, what the hell are you doing?”

  “Trying to outrun it.”

  “It’s coming right at us. You need to speed up.”

  “That’s what I’m doing.”

  “You’re gonna have to go faster. Give it some gas.”

  Creed glimpsed down. He was already going ninety-five.

  “Oh my God, we’re not gonna make.” Jason braced his hand against the dash. “You need to stop.”

  “We can’t stop. We’ll be right in the middle of it.” But even as the Jeep’s engine roared to one hundred miles per hour Creed could already hear the roar of the storm. It was alive and churning and spewing and heading right for them. It was almost on top of them.

  Another truck barreled around them. But Creed couldn’t see any other vehicles following.

  “You’re not gonna make,” Jason was yelling now over the wind gusts that started to shake the Jeep.

  The rain came again, but this time there were pieces of twigs and pine needles along with other debris hitting the windshield.

  “We need to turn around,” Jason told him. “Turn the hell around.”

  “I can’t turn around.” There were guardrails and the median still had trees and brush. No way he could drive over all that.

  “It’s gonna hit us!”

  Jason was yelling, again, and Creed could barely hear him over the rumble that now reverberated through the entire Jeep. Just then,
his ears started popping and he knew they were already inside the storm.

  Creed slammed on the brakes. The Jeep skidded on the wet asphalt. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. This was not the time to roll it out of control.

  “What the hell?” Jason said while he reached for the grab handle.

  Creed didn’t allow the Jeep to come to a stop. It was still skidding on the slick asphalt when he jammed it into reverse. The vehicle bucked. Then he floored it.

  His heart hammered against his chest. He kept his eyes forward. He couldn’t look away from the black mass that continued to spin toward them. Debris was flying everywhere now. He watched the backup camera and didn’t ease up on the accelerator. There was one set of headlights in his lane, and he still didn’t slow down. The car pulled onto the shoulder and out of his way. There were no others.

  The black wedge only seemed to grow. Pieces of debris pummeled the Jeep, thumping and smacking the roof and the hood.

  “It’s crossing!” Jason said. “Look it’s crossing the interstate.” Jason pointed with his prosthetic hand even as he braced his other against the dash. “Oh my God, it’s crossing right where we were.”

  Creed eased up a bit, but kept backing the Jeep away.

  “That car’s too close,” he said. The vehicle that had pulled onto the shoulder to get out of his way had stayed put. “What the hell’s wrong with them? Did you see who was behind the wheel?”

  “Hell no! I haven’t taken my eyes off that monster.”

  Everything was a blur through the rain. But Creed could see electrical poles snapping in half. One after another. The entire row broke apart like dominoes. Power lines swung free and whipped around. A billboard went airborne. The steel pole it had been on, bended over in two like a paperclip.

  “Look at that.” Jason pointed to an object flapping out of the column of black. “Wow! That’s a roof. A whole roof. It picked it up from somewhere else and it’s tossing it out.”

  They were far enough away now that the debris wasn’t hitting them. Creed finally brought the Jeep to a stop. He kept his foot on the brake. He didn’t shift into park. He wanted to be able to go again if he had to.

  “It might be headed for Montgomery,” Jason said “And it doesn’t look like it’s lifting up. God, that thing is massive.”

  Creed finally put the Jeep in park, but left the engine idling. He clicked out of his seatbelt and twisted around to the dogs. Both of them were wide-eyed and panting. Grace clawed at the metal grate when she saw she had his attention. He reached his hand over the console and offered her two fingers.

  “You okay, girl? How bout you, Scout? It’s okay. We’re all okay.”

  “Oh man, look that! It just hit a building.”

  Creed glanced over his shoulder just in time to see a two-story cinder block explode, flinging bricks and glass. Shipping crates and trailers crumpled like tin cans. Some of them got sucked into the black whirling mass and didn’t come back out. The lights along and inside the small industrial complex flashed and blinked out. The roof of another structure peeled away.

  In the distance a blue-green flash lit up the black sky.

  “A transformer must have blew up,” Jason said.

  They watched in silence. The storm seemed to devour the horizon to the north of them as it moved west to east. The lightning flickered inside just enough to show the steady rotation. It looked like a living, breathing creature, and only as it crept away from them did Creed realize how deafening its sound had been. They didn’t need to shout any more.

  That’s when Creed said, “Do me favor. When you tell Hannah this story, don’t tell her how close we came to being sucked up into the storm.”

  “Right, sure,” Jason said. “Hey, where did that vehicle go?”

  Creed turned back around to face the windshield. The car that had pulled over to the shoulder to get out of his way was gone.

  40

  MONTGOMERY, ALABAMA

  “This one is massive, folks,” Willis Dean talked to the camera. “If you’re in Hope Hull, you want to take cover right now. Montgomery County, you should be hearing sirens go off. Everyone to the south of the city, go to your safe place.”

  He kept one eye on the monitor to know where to point. The radar was exploding with angry red and yellow bursts.

  “This is the tornado right here. One of our storm chasers watched it earlier as it approached Interstate 65. We’ll show you some of the video when it comes in. Again, this is a very dangerous wedge tornado. It’s rain-wrapped, so please don’t let it deceive you. At times it may look simply like a big, wide thunderstorm. Make no mistake, there’s a tornado inside there.

  “So if you’re out shopping or having lunch, you need to go to an interior hallway. Get away from windows. Cover your head. Do not try to drive around this. This is a very dangerous wedge tornado.”

  Mia brought a new list of warnings, and he handed the reins to her. By now they were transitioning smoothly. She walked on, he walked off. In his younger days they would have had to drag him off the set, but these days he understood the necessity for refueling, keeping fresh and having time to review all the information coming in at a rapid pace. People’s lives were at stake. Nothing could be missed or left out.

  They were already receiving photos of damage even as new tornadoes were be sighted it other counties. The sky was falling around them.

  Paul handed Willis a stack of messages as he entered the weather desk. Then he gestured to one of the city’s video cams. A hulking mass was creeping into the viewfinder.

  “Wow! Which camera is that?” Willis asked.

  “The airport. It’s pointing south toward I-65.”

  “Any word from Gary and his crew?”

  “Gary checked in but the new guy’s gone silent.”

  Willis glanced up at Paul. “He’s the one that was driving along side it, right?”

  “Yeah.” Paul shrugged. “Maybe his equipment got knocked out.”

  “His cell phone would still work.”

  “Mia just got some info. A cell tower went down.”

  Willis was protective about their chasers. Most of them were volunteers. He still trained a good deal of them. “Keep trying to get him, okay?”

  “Absolutely,” Paul told him and left.

  Willis hated that the kid’s name wasn’t at the tip of his tongue. He remembered he was set to graduate in May from Auburn, but he hadn’t grown up in the south. He’d come down to college from Kansas.

  “Kansas...Simon.”

  Now Willis remembered because he tried to explain to Simon how Tornado Alley was different than Dixie Alley. The young man had spent his teenaged years racing across Kansas and Nebraska chasing funnels.

  “On the plains,” Willis told him, “you can see them in the distance. You can watch them form and drop out of the clouds. Here, the trees hide them. And half the time so does the rain.”

  Simon had nodded and said, “I guess I’m not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.” Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. It became a running joke.

  The NWS monitor started pinging out another warning. It didn’t stop at one.

  41

  SOUTHERN BLESSINGS

  Just South of Montgomery, Alabama

  “Both men were in the vehicle?” Maggie asked.

  “I believe so. The big guy with the scar on his neck was driving.”

  “You could see the scar?”

  “No, but I recognize his profile.” Frankie lowered her voice and leaned closer over the table. “He has a block-shaped head and big, square shoulders.”

  “Is he here?”

  Maggie saw a spark of fear in Frankie’s eyes before her chin jutted up and her eyes darted around the restaurant. It only took a few seconds because Maggie had already noticed that the woman had been watching the door.

  “No, he’s not here.”

  Maggie was trying not to be distracted by her food, but somehow she had managed to fork her way through half of her Connecuh blac
ken chicken. The waitress had talked her into adding a side of cheese grits and those were almost gone, too.

  “This food is delicious,” she told Frankie who had munched on her sweet potato fries but had barely touched her pecan-crusted catfish.

  “Hannah and I used to come here when we were kds.” She smiled. It was the first time since Maggie sat down that she saw the woman relax.

  “How about the other man?” she asked, quiet and calm, trying not to jumpstart Frankie back into panic mode.

  “I’ve never seen him.”

  “Not even a glimpse on the phone screen when you were talking to Tyler?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Think about it. Just for a minute. Go back to your conversation. Close your eyes if you need to. Relax and try to replay it in your mind.”

  Frankie closed her eyes, but there was no relaxing. Her brow creased, and it looked like she had clamped her jaw tight. The waitress appeared to fill Frankie’s coffee cup, and Frankie’s eyes flew open. It was obvious she looked a bit fluttered.

  The waitress glanced at Frankie and said, “You okay, Hon?”

  “We’re just talking about, you know, yoga and meditation,” Frankie explained returning to the southern accent she had used to order her lunch. “I’m not very good at it.” And she gave a forced laugh.

  “You’re tired, Hon. All those hours in the car.” She topped off the mug, asked Maggie if she wanted a refill on her Coke. “Y’all, let me know if there’s anything else I can get you.” Then she moved on to the next table.

  In that brief exchange with the waitress Maggie could see how exhausted Frankie was. She noticed Maggie studying her, and she pushed a lock of hair back away from her face, notching it behind her ear.

  “When they were at my office,” Frankie said, “my assistant thought they looked or sounded official. I can’t remember exactly what she said. Is it possible they’re law enforcement? Tyler and Deacon did hack into a corporation’s computer system.”

  “Only one problem with that,” Maggie paused and glanced to the nearest occupied table. The older women were laughing in between bites. “Law enforcement officers don’t normally execute a suspect on the streets.”