by Alex Kava
He blinked. Finally he could see the sky, and he could feel grass against his searing back. It was like lying on a bed of needles. No more cold water to soothe pain.
Out of the corner of his eyes he got a glimpse of the black metal hand still holding onto this shoulder. He tilted his head back and he could see Jason. There were two other men, too, but he didn’t recognize them.
“Hey,” he croaked.
“Hey, yourself,” Jason told him, and in those two words Creed could hear the mixture of fear and relief.
“Here she is,” the woman said.
Creed looked around just in time to see Dr. Avelyn deposit Grace at his side.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he told the veterinarian.
“I’m never sure what that means,” Dr. Avelyn said. She squatted down next to him.
“It means I’m glad to see you.”
“Well then, right back at you,” she told him. “Truthfully Ryder, you look like hell.”
He laughed but pain stopped him cold.
Her fingers gently unsnapped the chinstrap, and she removed his helmet. A wave of fresh swirled around him.
He groaned and rolled onto his side. He desperately wanted to run his hands over Grace’s body and make sure she was okay. She was wet and shaking, her tail down but doing a slow wag.
He was still trying to catch his breath when Jason said, “I don’t think we’ll be able to keep this one a secret from Hannah.”
60
MONTGOMERY, ALABAMA
Willis asked Mia to stay on the air while he juggled all the information coming in at a rapid-fire pace. Everyone including anchors, producers and staff was helping, taking phone calls, downloading livestream video and recording damage reports while Willis tried to map out tornadoes on the ground. At last count there were five. Paul would barely hand Mia a new set of warnings and Willis would give him more.
And in the middle of this, Beth kept calling and texting him.
Willis had asked Paul to leave one of the monitors on the lives video feed the station had set up showing the restaurant. His eyes skimmed over it every time he looked from the radar screens to the other screens from their other city cams. Some of those had already been knocked out by the previous storms, but a couple of them still showed black churning clouds filling the viewfinders.
“We have a report of a hotel being hit,” Paul said as he came in the door to the weather desk. For the last half hour Paul’s voice had taken on a high pitch, the sudden inflection of urgency a bit nerve-racking to Willis.
“Which tornado?”
“It’s making its way up I-65. Just south of where the one hit earlier.”
Willis twisted around to a radar screen and pulled up the area.
“It looks like it’s following the same path,” Willis said and the knot in his stomach tightened.
His eyes flicked to the video feed watching over the restaurant debris. He almost missed the curl of smoke then he saw the flames.
“What’s going on there?” He pointed.
“Oh yeah, the news desk had a report of arson.”
“Arson?”
“Suspicious activity. There was a hazmat team inspecting the site before they all got called back. All those blue barrels.”
Willis stood. The monitor was one in a row, up above and bracketed to the wall. He came in close, his neck craned up. Dozens of barrels were scattered about the site. They must have fallen out of the trailer.
“Oh my God,” he whispered.
If the contents were flammable the whole place would go up in flames any second. Suddenly, he knew why Beth was texting and calling. She and the others must already smell the smoke.
He started to search for his cell phone when his eyes caught something else on the monitor. In the sky above the battered restaurant he could see a shadow slinking into view. A dark column was already emerging out of the gray mass.
61
“YOU MIGHT HAVE A CONCUSSION,” Dr. Avelyn was telling Creed.
“I was wearing my helmet,” he countered.
It was a weak defense, especially since he knew he had blacked out for part of the journey the tornado on sent him on. He had won the battle about being taken to a hospital, arguing that the ER would be filled with storm victims needing a doctor when he had his personal doctor with him.
Dr. Avelyn had rolled her eyes at him. “Someday you’re going to need an MD, Ryder.” But in the end, she agreed with him that an ER wait could be long.
Right now, he looked up from the bed. Grace was fast asleep in the pillows. He’d made sure Dr. Avelyn checked her before she started on him. Creed was lying on his stomach, and it hurt just to turn his neck. He didn’t dare admit that it hurt, nor did he admit he wasn’t quite certain where they were. He knew their hotel had been damaged. He vaguely remembered Jason’s explanation about packing up their belongings in his Jeep. Dr. Avelyn and Penelope Clemence had barely checked in before the storm hit. All of them had caravanned to another hotel up the road. Now, from his limited view—mostly of the rug and bed linens—he noted they’d upgraded. This was a much a nicer room.
He jerked and winced at the pain.
“Sorry,” Dr. Avelyn said from above him.
She had pulled the desk chair to the edge of the bed and went to work on his back. Creed had insisted they take a photo and show him. He hardly recognized it as his own. Nevermind the cuts and bruises. The middle of his back was riddled with pine needles. It reminded him of a porcupine. Dozens of them were driven into his skin, all in the area where his back had been exposed after the sunroof had been sucked out. Dr. Avelyn was removing them, one by one, dabbing each puncture with rubbing alcohol. He wasn’t sure which hurt more—the stab of the needle or the sting of alcohol.
“How many?” he asked every once in a while to gauge her progress.
“Twenty-seven. You sure you don’t want something for the pain?”
“I’m good.
“You’ll need an antibiotic.”
“Okay.”
“How about Grace?”
“Already took care of her.”
It wasn’t the first time the veterinarian had tended to his wounds or stitched him up. He trusted her with his dogs. Why wouldn’t he trust her with himself?
“She’s doing really well by the way,” Dr. Avelyn said. “Wrapping her up like you did cushioned her. It probably saved her life.”
“What about her paws?
“Actually, they don’t bad. Jason did a good job taking out all the glass. She didn’t blow any pads. But I do think she’s finished for this site. She’ll need to rest for a week. I’d suggest two weeks, but I know Grace.”
Creed felt his muscles tense.
“Sorry. I’m digging out some glass. You want to take a break?”
“No, keep going.”
“You know, I think Brodie could be on to something,” she told him as she worked. And now he knew she was trying to get his mind off the pain. “She watched me chipping dogs last week. We put one in Kitten. But she wanted to know if it would work in people. I’m thinking we might need to chip you with a tracking device, so we can find you when you get buried or fly off.”
“Very funny.” He thought about Brodie’s curiosity. “Do you know if she was thinking about herself or me?”
“I’m not sure. I explained to her that it only identifies a dog and who he belongs to. I can’t remember exactly what she said, but clearly she was wondering about the tracking capabilities.” She paused for a moment then asked, “Do you think she worries about being taken, again?”
“I hope not. It’s interesting that she asked about it. When we found her she had a tracking device strapped and locked around her ankle. Iris Malone put it on after Brodie tried to escape too many times.”
“Wow! I didn’t know that. When we talked about it she didn’t seem traumatized by the thought. She was genuinely curious like she could see the benefits.”
“Did you see her yesterday or to
day? Hannah said her nightmares are back. I can’t help but wonder if it’s because I’m gone.”
“No, I didn’t. But she needs to know that she can survive without you.”
“Yeah, but my mom’s visiting this weekend.”
“Ah! You sure that’s not why you bailed? Although I can’t imagine you choosing this over spending time with your mother.”
“Have you met my mom?”
A soft tap-tap at the door interrupted them.
“Come on in,” Dr. Avelyn said.
“Still not finished?” Jason asked.
Creed could see he was carrying a tray. Before he put it down Creed could smell something wonderful. Leave it to Jason to find food.
“Anything about Maggie and Frankie?” Creed asked. He shoved himself up on his elbows so he could look at Jason better.
“Why don’t we wait until Doc is finished. I brought you both something to eat. Some woman in a silver SUV pulling into the hotel parking lot with all these sandwiches and stuff for all the first responders and storm victims.”
“Thanks, but just tell me what you know.”
Dr. Avelyn tapped him on the shoulder and gestured for Creed to lie back down.
“Okay, first of all, Maggie says they’re okay.”
“But?”
“There’s a fire on top of them?”
“What?” This time Creed rolled over to look at Jason. Even Grace lifted her head. “Those barrels. The hazmat team thought they were flammable.”
He was up on his feet and putting on his boots before Dr. Avelyn couldn’t stop him.
62
SOUTHERN BLESSINGS
Maggie retreated to other side. She needed to stay with Frankie though her instinct urged her to keep as close to the door as possible. It didn’t matter. The air was getting thinner no matter what side of the room. It wasn’t her imagination. She noticed Frankie struggling to breathe. There were coughs and choking from the others. Whatever slivers and gaps there had been were now being clogged.
She checked her phone. “No service available.”
“Is anyone else getting texts or calls to go through?” she called out.
“I was,” Beth answered. “My last call got dropped.”
“My battery died! This is crazy. We need to get out of here.” Maggie recognized Stephanie’s voice.
Maggie heard thumping and banging. The men were still trying to ram the door. A clash and boom made both her and Frankie jump.
“Thunder.” The rumble vibrated the walls. “Ryder said there were more storms.”
“Oh no,” someone moaned, realizing the same.
Another crack of thunder. Then came a whoosh followed by a barrage of drumming. Rain. Maggie cocked her head, listening. It had to be rain. That was a good thing. Maybe it would put out the fire.
That’s when she felt the water rushing against her legs. What had been a trickle before was now a stream. She pointed her cell phone’s flashlight and followed the flow. Clara and Adele saw it before Maggie. They hurried toward her, away from their bench. The water was coming down the wall right behind them.
“Move to the other side,” Maggie told them. “Hank!”
It was Gus who showed up first. “It’s coming in through the wall,” he said. “Can we get out through this way?”
“It’s solid cinder block,” Hank told him.
“But the water—”
“There’s dirt on the other side,” Hank insisted, but water was flowing in beween the concrete blocks.
Above them Maggie thought she could hear engines roaring . Ryder had mentioned they were bringing in large equipment to help move the debris off of them.
“Here we go, again,” Hank yelled. “Everyone take cover.”
She realized her mistake when the floorboards started shaking. It wasn’t heavy equipment. It was another tornado.
63
“CAN’T YOU DRIVE ANY faster?” Creed told Jason at the same time he looked back to make sure Grace and Scout were okay. Both had their heads down, but their eyes watched their owners.
Dr. Avelyn had loaned them a crate for Grace when it became obvious the little dog was not going stay without Creed. And when it was already obvious Creed wasn’t going stay no matter what the good doctor said.
In the side mirror, Creed could see the sky lightening behind them, but they were heading into darkness. He only hoped they were following behind the storm and not driving straight into it.
“Here’s my cell phone,” Jason handed it to him. “See if you can bring up some radar. I don’t want another son of bitch sneaking up on us, again.”
He had already told Creed they hadn’t been able to find his cell phone. Even the GPS watch Maggie had given him for his birthday had been stripped off him along with his shirt. He had put on a fresh T-shirt before leaving the hotel room, but wanted to rip it off because it pressed against the pine needles still impaling his back.
He checked first to see if Maggie had answered any of Jason’s text messages. The last answer had come fifteen minutes. Creed had sent another before he brought up the weather.
“Why did they think the fire was arson and not the storm?” Creed asked.
“Sheriff Krenshaw said something about seeing a guy right before. He said one of the television stations left video cam on the scene and had a live feed.”
“Why would someone do that?”
“Crazy, right? Almost like he didn’t want those people to be saved.”
Creed punched the radio volume up. It was a woman meteorologist now.
“Again, we have a tornado is on the ground. Those of you on the south side of Montgomery, you should already be taking cover. This one looks like it’s following the same path of the tornado that hit Sterling Ridge and the Southern Blessings restaurant earlier today. I know some of you have already sustained damage to your homes. Go to a neighbor’s. Do not try to drive. Keep somewhere safe now.”
Creed turned the volume down.
“It’s going to hit the restaurant, again,” he said, staring ahead as if expecting to see the tornado reveal itself right in front of them.
“There’s nothing we can do about it,” Jason told him. “These bastards seem to be dropping out the sky all over the place.”
“What about Brodie and Hannah?” Creed couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to check on them.
“They’re okay,” Jason reassured him. “I talked to Hannah just a bit ago. Only thunderstorms. Lots of rain. They still had electricity. Brodie and your mom are watching old home movies.”
“They’re doing what?”
“Watching old home movies.”
“I didn’t know we had any.” For a second or two he wished he were back there watching with them.
“Is this the exit?” Jason asked.
Creed could see the snapped electrical poles and broken pine trees. They were the new landmarks in a horizon that had been scrubbed of its usual landmarks. He nodded.
Jason took the exit, slowed and came to a full stop at the intersection despite there no longer being a stop sign. When he turned he slowed again. Then stopped. Creed didn’t have to ask why. They were far enough away that the were safe, but close enough to see the debris spewing out of the black.
“Son of bitch,” Jason said, “Looks like it’s already hitting them.”
64
MAGGIE YELLED OVER the thunder. She gestured and directed whoever would listen to get back against the far wall. They needed to get out from under the cracking floorboards. And they needed to do it quickly.
It sounded like the storm was picking up objects and flinging them back down. The monster clawed and bashed, almost as if it was purposely trying to finish them off.
Debris rained from the ceiling. Beams groaned overhead. Maggie didn’t dare look up. She knew there was no way this basement could sustain the collapsing structure and whatever else had piled up on top of them..
Gus had found dusty old tarps. Maggie held onto the ends while he unfu
rled each one, trying to cover the others. Stephanie screamed while her son tried to pull her under. Clara and Adele huddled together. Beth and Val made sure Ronald and Frankie were shoved against the wall, up out of the water on the wooden benches.
Gus moved the tall wooden shelving unit, tilting it, creating a teepee to absorb the brunt of the falling debris. Maggie had sent Hank to bring Polo Shirt and Loverboy down, but he returned without them. Neither man would leave the stairwell, still believing it would eventually become their best path for escape. At one time, Maggie may have agreed, but now in the hazy dim light she didn’t think anyplace was safe.
The ceiling was being ripped apart. Just as she found a corner of the tarp and started to get under she saw a table come tumbling down. She leaned out of the way up against the cold concrete blocks, but something slammed into her arm. She grabbed at the shooting pain.
Debris pelted her back. Already she could feel the wind whipping and shredding the thin canvas. And in no time, she was drenched from the down pouring rain. Just when she realized she could breathe again, she noticed the change in the air—an electrical charge. A smell like rotten eggs gagged her.
More objects were crashing down. The concrete walls and floor vibrated. Maggie imagined them cracking and caving in around them. She thought she heard someone scream, but it quickly got lost in the roar of the storm.
She closed her eyes and slid to her knees, ignoring the cold water gushing around her. She remembered her initial reaction coming down here and realized it was coming true. They had gone underground hoping to escape only to be buried alive.
65
CREED FELT HIS INSIDES knotting up as Jason followed a screaming ambulance. Jason was keeping a safe distance, pulling over whenever another rescue unit with flashing lights raced around them.
Creed kept checking Jason’s cell phone. He sent a new text. He called her number hoping this time it would go through.
“The mobile unit is probably overwhelmed,” Jason told him.