by Abby Niles
That’s all she needed to say. Rick nodded and pulled back onto the road behind a few other cars that were also leaving. Mac was a little taken aback as those vehicles turned onto the same side road. He guessed he shouldn’t be. They were using the same stuff Gayle was, so it would lead them in the same direction.
“Who were you talking to?” Mac asked.
“National Weather Service for this area. They use trained spotters to confirm the exact location of severe weather, so they can get out advanced warnings to the public.” She fell silent as she stared pensively up at the cloud the SUV seemed to be following.
About five minutes later she said, “We have hook echo.”
Tensing, his gaze flew outside the window. He’d lived in Kansas long enough to know a hook echo indicated possible rotation of a tornado on radar. Within minutes, rain pelted the windshield. Wind shook the SUV. Mac grabbed hold of the sides of his seat and clenched every muscle in his body.
“Turn left, stay behind the line,” she told Rick. A moment later, the rain stopped. “Funnel!” she shouted.
Mac glanced outside and sure enough a thick, whirling black mass extended from the cloud halfway down to the ground.
She quickly lifted the mic and identified herself. “I have visual of a funnel cloud moving northeast along—” A second later, she said, “Scratch that! Debris ball spotted. We have confirmed touchdown. Cone-shaped tornado is on the ground.” Then she repeated the info, which he quickly learned she did each time she spoke to the authorities.
Gayle clicked off the mic. “Take a right on this road and get next to it.”
Next to it? Mac’s heart walloped his chest. The increased blood flow went straight to his head and white dots danced before his eyes.
The roar…growing louder and louder as it churned closer. The rattling of the kitchenware. The impact. Glass shattering.
Closing his eyes, he slowly inhaled two calming breaths, then exhaled.
It will have control of you no more.
Once he felt the tension release, he opened them.
Fucking horrible mistake. Instead of staying in the distance, the monster in front of them was spinning closer and closer, growing larger and more menacing by the second. His grip on the seat tightened as his mind bellowed to scream at Gayle that she was a fucking lunatic. Grinding his teeth against the urge, the swirling beast held him paralyzed. It felt like he could literally reach his hand out the window and touch the damn thing. In reality, it was probably the length of a football field away. Which was too fucking close by a mile. Wind gusts shook the car like an angry mother.
“Tornado is shifting to an easterly route and gaining momentum,” she told the National Weather Service. The concern in her voice didn’t go unnoticed.
The debris ball was huge, littered with dust and occasionally something larger. Right now the tornado was in an open field, but he saw the shift in direction Gayle had mentioned. Instead of going off at an angle and keeping to flat land, the change kept it on a straight course—and that looked like a town up ahead sitting innocently in the tornado’s destructive path. Fuck. Memories of his own destroyed past threatened to overwhelm him again, but he forced himself to stay in the present. Pressing the heels of his palms to his forehead, he silently repeated, “Shift motherfucker, shift.”
“Trajectory continues easterly, headed for the populated area of Mint.”
As they took a right onto another road following behind the twister, the sound of sirens filled the car. A cluster of homes came into view and the town’s water tower stood proud in the distance.
The tension in the SUV thickened. Unable to look away, Mac knotted his fingers in his hair, transfixed on the beast and the defenseless town below it. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it might crack a rib.
“Tornado is shifting again. Toward the northeast.” Excitement laced every word.
About thirty seconds later, the tornado sideswiped a small farmhouse, taking off some siding and shattering the windows. Rick slowed the car. Mac swore. A barn and a fence took considerable damage, but that was it, then the tornado moved back into open fields. The town had been miraculously saved from a direct hit. A few minutes later the tornado started to shrink, until it was thin rope, and then it disappeared completely. Mac’s heartbeat started to slow in relief and he managed to peel his fingers from the edge of the seat. Holy fuck.
“Tornado has dissipated.”
She repeated, then hooked the mic back on the side of the radio and collapsed back against the seat with a heartfelt, “Thank God.”
Awe rose in him as he stared at her. “Gayle, with all this equipment, why the play-by-play?”
She turned her head. “We have made amazing progress with radar and such, but the one thing we do not have is something that tells us when there’s an actual touchdown. Still need human spotters for that.”
He blinked, and she turned back to the monitors. “Another tornadic storm brewing twenty miles east.”
Holy shit. The woman really did help people.
Stretching, Gayle groaned as her muscles sighed with pleasure. They’d logged over fifteen hours in the SUV yesterday before they’d called it a day. Unfortunately, the rest of the afternoon had been a bust. She either focused on the wrong storm, or got there too late and missed the action. At least Mac was getting a realistic view of what storm chasing was—long hours in a car, bad food, and endless waiting.
Someone suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her to the front of the SUV. She squealed. Yanking her arm free, she whirled around. Rick. And he was furious. He’d been a grumpy butt since they’d left this morning. “What in the hell is your problem?” she demanded.
“I’ve been trying to get you alone all damn day,” he muttered harshly, glancing off in the direction Mac had headed. “But he’s always around. Hovering.”
“He went to the bathroom. You can speak freely, Grasshopper.”
Rick’s lips pinched together. Oh. Good Lord. He was in a right foul mood.
“I’m not staying another night in a room with that man, do you understand? I do the driving. I need sleep.”
Not expecting that, Gayle frowned. “What happened?”
“He fucking moaned and tossed and turned and kept calling out for an Ally all goddamn night. Gayle, I didn’t sleep at all.”
Damn it. “Okay. I’ll figure something out.”
“You better. Caffeine is only going to get me so far.”
“I hear you. I’ll take care of it.”
Rick gave a terse nod, then slammed himself behind the driver’s wheel, chugging his super caffeinated beverage, furious eyes locked on her. She sighed, running her fingers through her hair, as she squinted off into the distance. Her heart went out to Mac, but Rick was right, the driver needed to be well-rested.
They’d stopped at a motel last night, and she and Rick got separate rooms, as always. Without anyone saying anything, Mac had automatically assigned himself to Rick. She’d thought briefly about trying to get him to stay with her, but the man had looked beaten down.
Though they hadn’t encountered any more tornadoes yesterday, they had been through some nasty storms. Each one had taken its toll on him. She’d watched the mental battle he fought. She didn’t know what memories went through his head during these storms, but he couldn’t hide the clenched eyes and locked jaw…or the haunted look when his eyes popped back open. He was reliving a lot. Despite that, he had kept to his side of the bargain. He never let the anger take control. Though she would probably have to fix the seats from his strong fingers digging into them.
Because he didn’t go to his outlet, she’d hoped he was so emotionally exhausted he’d just pass out. Apparently, all that had happened was his demons had come out to play while his body had been at rest.
How in the hell would she convince him to stay in her room tonight?
At least she still had a few hours to figure it out. It was only two o’clock. Storms were just starting to fire. She’d think
of something while they were on the road.
As she turned, Mac came out of the convenience store. He’d taken her advice and brought only comfortable clothes to wear, which for him was his workout attire. Too bad he hadn’t brought along his tight workout tops she loved to ogle, but opted for cotton T-shirts instead. Massive bummer, but the T still strained against his muscles and was more of a tease to what lay beneath than an all-out show like his other shirts.
Just watching the man walk toward the car was hot. Maybe it was the relaxed swagger of his stride. In fact, he’d been pretty relaxed all morning, but that could be because they’d been traveling and hadn’t encountered anything. Not that they usually did until the afternoon. He suddenly looked her way and smiled, and her breath caught.
The guy was simply yummy. And having once had a taste of him, it was very difficult to stay in the friends zone now that he’d put her there. From what she could tell, she was strictly there now. She hadn’t received one hint of attraction from him since she’d returned home three days ago. She couldn’t really blame him, though. The man was going through a traumatic readjustment four years in the making. How could lust compete with all that?
Still, that didn’t keep her from wanting to touch him. And badly. She ached to at times. Somehow, she kept her hands to herself and kept a friendly smile plastered on her face.
He sidled up beside her and leaned against the SUV. “Where is the next chase target?”
“Very good, handsome. Getting down with the lingo.” She grinned. “About an hour away. You ready to head into Texas?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled and pretended to tip a hat at her.
Chuckling, she said, “Get in the car, cowboy.”
As Rick drove, Gayle worried over her data. Though they had only encountered one tornado yesterday, the main reason was because of her decision to stay away from the chaser convergence—for Mac’s sake. If she’d gone with the pack she most likely would’ve seen a whole lot more, since yesterday thirty-one tornadoes had touched down throughout western Oklahoma and the Texas panhandle.
With the continued instability of the atmosphere, the slow-moving system would likely spawn even more tornadoes than yesterday. Now it was just a matter of getting to the right area.
Thirty minutes later, rain was coming down in sheets, making the wipers pretty much useless. Gusts of wind swayed the SUV. Multiple large red cells filled her radar as thunderstorms triggered along the line. The radio updates issued severe thunderstorm warnings and, so far, nothing had indicated anything escalating—but that could change in seconds.
“Gayle. What the fuck?”
Counting to five, she reined in her patience with her partner. “What do you want me to do? The storms are everywhere. I’ve at least got us in the rain, right?”
Rick grumbled from the driver’s seat.
“You got something to say, say it.”
He turned his head toward her then looked back out the windshield. “Why this system? Why not a more isolated one? But no, we had to come to this one.”
Gayle counted—again—knowing he was only irritable from lack of sleep. Normally, he loved this. “I want to get off the interstate. There’s a big storm approaching from behind us, and I don’t want to get caught in traffic.”
It was one of her biggest rules. No interstate during a storm. Ever.
Rick glanced over at her for a second like he didn’t agree, but nodded and took the next exit, which brought them into a very rural area of Texas. This, she was comfortable with. This had escape routes. This wouldn’t lead to them being trapped bumper to bumper like a sitting duck.
Ten minutes passed—the air thick with agitation. Thunder crashed in the distance as the storm drew nearer.
“If we take this road coming up on our left, it will lead us to a main road a few miles down that goes into Cater. We need to stop and reassess.”
Another rumble of thunder sounded. She glanced back at Mac, who had been awfully quiet. Though his skin was slightly pale, he definitely looked better than he had yesterday driving through the storms. The car started to bounce. She snapped her head forward to see they had drifted off the road. Rick was shaking his head and doing weird squinting things with his eyes. “Rick!”
He jerked up straight, hands tightening on the wheel, and righted the car.
“Pull over, right now,” she ordered.
“I’m fine.”
“Pull over this damn second!”
Jaw clenched, he did what she asked.
She opened her door. “We’re done. I’ll drive, and we’ll find a place to stay for the night.”
“But—”
“We’re. Done.”
In something that could be unpredictable, she did her damnedest to be safe. She sure as hell wasn’t going to get injured or killed because her driver had fallen asleep. If Rick had known everything to look for, she’d have let him man the data, but he didn’t. For six years, he had been the driver while she did the maps, videoing, and everything else.
As soon as she stepped outside, she was drenched. She ran around the front of the SUV, passing Rick on her way, then jumped into the driver’s side. When he closed his door, she put the car in gear and pressed the gas. The tires spun in the mud, but the car didn’t move. A moment of disbelief had her pressing the accelerator again with the same results. She stared out the windshield, the reality of the situation crashing into her.
Stuck.
They were officially sitting ducks.
She slammed her hands on the steering wheel. “Damn it!”
Rick, who had already fallen asleep, jerked upright again. “What?”
“We’re stuck.”
“The hell we are.”
“The hell we’re not.”
Thunder boomed overheard and lightning suddenly lit up the darkened late afternoon sky.
Shoving open the driver’s side door, she hopped out, the torrential rain chilling her to the bone. Mac cracked his door open, and she shook her head at him. The what-the-fuck expression he gave her would’ve been comical if this weren’t a seriously bad situation. His door opened wider. She pinned him with a death stare that immediately made him recoil—probably because he had never seen this side of her.
“I’m the boss. Stay in the fucking car,” she yelled over the pounding rain.
The door clicked shut. Smart man.
Before she dealt with him, she had to figure out how much trouble they were really in. As she rounded the back of the SUV, she groaned, knotting her fingers in her sopping hair. The rear passenger-side tire was sunk axle-deep in the mud. Damn it. She never should’ve told Rick to pull over. A brain fart on her part from the shock of him falling asleep behind the wheel. These Midwest backroads became mud pits once the rain started. She’d seen tons of vehicles get stuck by running off the road or simply by pulling over. She knew that. God, this was a huge fuck up.
Being caught with storms surrounding them was a nightmare situation. What were they going to do?
Something hard pelted the top of her head, followed by another and another. Wincing, she looked up. The swirling grey whirlpool above her made her stomach plummet. Oh, God!
Thunder crashed as she raced to the driver’s door and yanked it open. “Get on the CB and see if there is anyone around here who can pull us out.”
The paleness of Rick’s face increased her agitation. She darted a glance at Mac, who was watching intently. Stay calm. Do not let on something is wrong.
She simply lifted her brows in a questioning manner at her partner as nickel-sized hail showered her back and bounced inside the car. Swallowing, Rick slightly nodded toward the laptop, which he angled toward her so she could see. At the kidney bean shape on radar, everything in her stilled. High precipitation supercell. She inhaled a shaky breath and swallowed. “We’ve got to get the hell out of here.”
Rick was out of the car instantly. She glanced at Mac. A lightning bolt streaked toward the ground in the distance. The thunder g
rew louder. It was time to see if he was really ready for this, because shit was about to get real ugly.
“I need you to get out of the car.” But he didn’t seem to be paying any attention to her. Seemed to be staring at her forehead. “Mac. I need you to get. Out. Of. The. Car.”
“Why the fuck are you bleeding?” he said between gritted teeth, eyes still locked above her eyes. She touched the area, wincing at the tenderness. As she brought her hand away, watery red coated her fingertips.
“I got clocked with a nice-sized piece of hail. No big deal. Now get out of the car.” A gust of wind blew her upper body farther into the interior. “We are in a deadly situation right now called the bear cage. A tornado can drop any second. Get out of the fucking car.”
Every bit of color leached out the man’s skin, but he moved.
The bear cage. No one but the chasers who drove armored vehicles went into the bear cage. There could be a tornado on the ground right now and she wouldn’t know it because of the amount of precipitation falling. With rain-wrapped tornadoes—worst case scenario, everything bad that could happen, happened.
And it was happening.
The wind whipped by her, the rain stinging as it hit her exposed skin. Hail bruised her body. Holding her hands in front of her face, she pushed to the back of the SUV. Mac and Rick were already trying to lift it out by the bumper. It wasn’t going to work. Rick should know that, but panic was driving him now. In lesser precipitation, the wheel would’ve been stuck. In this, it might as well be cemented in.
Water poured into her eyes and mouth as she frantically searched for something, a piece of wood, anything with traction. The ground was so muddy she slipped a few times, landing hard on her butt or side. Just as she made her second trip onto her rump, everything stopped. Like a switch flipping, the lashing downpour, the hail, the wind—everything cut off.
No!
“Run!” Terror squeezing her throat, she struggled to her feet. “It’s coming! It’s coming! In the ditch. Now.”
A churning rumble, sounding like a train in the distance, reverberated behind her. They had seconds. Seconds.