The Damaged Climate (Book 1): Tornado Warning

by J. R. Tate

  He took a short break and drank two glasses of iced tea and went back to work. He never panicked about the weather. It was pointless to fret over something they had no control over, and more times than not, the forecast was a bust. But Charlie Johnson was an old timer and another person who had lived in the area a long time. His concern was valid, and Ryan wasn’t going to argue with getting the needed repairs done in case they had a repeat and weren’t so lucky the next time.

  “I’ve got some more plywood out in the barn. It should be enough to finish up the last two windows.” Charlie’s eyes looked past Ryan toward the mountain range. “Same exact clouds as yesterday. I must’ve sat out her for an hour watching it. Yesterday it was beautiful. Today, I’m not as happy to see it.”

  Ryan followed his gaze. It was the same thing he had watched on the side of the highway when driving into work. It was the dry line, already setting up to the west. If it became active and retreated, the storms would fire up in no time. Maybe calling the local meteorologist Doomsday Donald was a bit premature, but he shook it off. He’d seen the dry line set up like that many times, bringing beneficial rainfall. He wasn’t going to let himself get lost in the hype of another potential severe night.

  Cecilia stepped out onto the back porch, tossing them both a bottle of water. “Your favorite meteorologist just said that we’re in for it again.”

  Ryan nailed up the last piece of plywood and hopped down from the ladder. “How’s the barns look?” He glanced up at Cecilia, and though he wasn’t ignoring her, he didn’t have much to say. All of the talk about the weather was going to freak Ty out, and thankfully he was busy playing, his attention on something else.

  “Not bad. They’ve got some damage, but nothing we need to worry about right now.” Charlie patted him on the shoulder. “Thanks for the help. I would’ve never gotten that done by myself.”

  “No problem. Makes me wonder if I need to go ahead and board up my windows just in case. Like those folks in Florida and on the coast have to do with hurricane warnings. I’ll go home and do it and not a damn thing will happen.”

  Charlie laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know, Ryan. I’ve seen my fair share of this stuff, but something in the air feels different. We’re not even out of February yet and we’re setting records for highs. With daytime heating, all the atmosphere has to do is organize and ramp up.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re one of those global warming fanatics, Charlie. I thought you were as conservative as they come.” Ryan laughed and sipped on his water.

  “I don’t think the climate is changing. I just think we’re cycling, and right now, we’re in a pretty bad one. And it’s time. The past few years have been calm storm seasons. Last night I swear we had softball sized hail. I couldn’t get too close to the window, but just look at my truck.”

  The windows were shattered and the roof was completely smashed. “And that’s because you guys missed the brunt of it. Makes you wonder how big the hail was in the main core.” Ryan walked to the end of the truck bed and whistled. “Definitely softball sized, at least.”

  “Call me crazy, Ryan, but you don’t seem too concerned.”

  “It’s not that I’m not concerned. I just don’t like to hop in on the media hype. That meteorologist, Donald whatever his name is, is known for going with the weather models that are on the highest end of extreme. It’s concerning that today is starting out as a carbon copy of yesterday, but I can’t worry about it. What are we gonna do about it? Put giant walls up to keep the twisters out?”

  Charlie tried to pull the tailgate down, but the damage hindered it from moving. “You got your cellar stocked up?”

  “Not how we should, no. I guess it’s ready to go if you like wine.”

  Charlie didn’t find it amusing, and his brow furrowed. “When you leave here today, go buy some canned goods and nonperishable items. Being prepared doesn’t mean you’re giving in to the hype. It means you’ve got my daughter and my grandson on your mind, and I know damn well they are the world to you. You’ll do everything you can to protect them. And hey, if it’s a bust, that’s why you get the foods that don’t go bad really fast, yeah?”

  Ryan nodded. “Yes sir, you’re right.” Deep down, he knew this was something to take seriously. His instincts were screaming at him, telling him that it would get worse, and though he was denying it, keeping it buried would never stop the potential freight train that would soon be barreling toward them.

  Charlie was right about several things – Cecilia and Ty were Ryan’s main priority, and stocking up the cellar would be the first line of defense in keeping them safe.

  ~~

  “I thought you weren’t getting into the weather hype!” Cecilia nudged Ryan as he pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store. “What exactly did you boys talk about when you were patching up the windows?”

  Ryan put the truck in gear and glanced over his shoulder at Ty. He had fallen asleep in an awkward position, his mouth wide open and a faint snore escaping his nose. Good thing he was asleep – Ryan didn’t want to talk about it in front of him.

  “He suggested getting some food for the cellar. It’s not a bad idea. I always planned to do it, but just like with everything else, I never got around to it.”

  “He thinks we’re in for some big stuff, doesn’t he?” Cecilia cocked her eyebrow and looked at Ty.

  “Just like all the old timers around here, saying we’re overdue for another big one. I’m no meteorologist, so I can’t sit here and say they’re wrong. And like your dad said, get food that doesn’t go bad fast. No harm in being prepared.”

  Cecilia unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the truck door. “This, coming from a guy who was making fun of the guy on channel five.”

  Ryan ignored her comment and picked Ty up, allowing him to sleep on his shoulder. The boy stirred for a moment, mumbling something, his body like dead weight as he drifted back to sleep. Setting him in the basket, Ryan wondered how many other people in the store were doing the same thing they were. Were they keeping an eye on the weather, or were they completely unaware of the possibility of an outbreak of storms? The chances of anything detrimental happening were slim, and though Ryan hated cliche’s, it was better safe than sorry.

  “So, what do you wanna stock up on?” Ryan avoided the produce and meat section. “Canned ravioli and spaghetti-o’s for our youngster.” He held up the cans and placed them in the basket. “Ever try canned tamales?”

  Cecilia wrinkled her nose. “I guess if I’m hungry enough, I’ll eat them.”

  Ryan grabbed a couple of bags of flour, some sugar, and some bottled water. He also got some fire logs – they’d be handy in case they lost power. He had plenty of firewood from the past winter that they didn’t use, and the fire logs would help get a good burn going. He was certain he was missing something. What else would be useful?

  Batteries and a couple of extra flashlights would be nice to have to accompany the propane lanterns he had in the garage. A couple extra bottles of propane would be good since the camping stove was also powered by it. He made a mental note to make sure to move all of the camping gear to the cellar.

  Reaching for a cheap bag of coffee, Cecilia laughed and pointed. “Somehow I knew you couldn’t pass up on that.”

  “We’ve got a campfire percolator. Might as well buy the cheap stuff that a spoon will stand up in for the real effect.”

  Ty began to wake up, his eyes widening when he saw they were in the store. “I want some candy. Mommy, can I have some candy?”

  “We’re not here for our usual groceries, hon. But look, we got those ravioli’s you like so much.”

  Ty’s smile beamed and he lifted a couple of the cans to look at them. “I want gummy bears. Can I have some gummy bears?”

  Ryan tossed an assortment bag full of candy bars into the basket, avoiding the glare that Cecilia sent his way. What was the point if they couldn’t enjoy a delicious snack in the midst of all of the canned, processed food t
hat in no way seemed appetizing at the moment. For safe measure, he handed Ty a bag of gummy bears, winking at his son.

  “Think we about covered everything?” Ryan asked as they edged back to the checkout lines.

  Cecilia looked over the items. “I guess so. I’ve never had to do this kind of shopping, but it should hold us over if we...” she stopped herself, smiling at Ty. “Yeah. It’s good. If we think of anything else we can come back.”

  The cashier rang them up, his demeanor like he would rather be anywhere else but there. Snapping his gum between his teeth, a smirk pursed his lips and he looked up at Ryan. “There a zombie apocalypse coming that I don’t know about?”

  Ryan’s face heated up. “What?”

  “Nothing. No one likes this.” He held up the can of tamales and winced. “Don’t worry. I’m a certified zombie killer. I got the bumper sticker on my car to prove it.” The teenager laughed and continued to ring up the groceries.

  Ryan wasn’t amused. He felt like a jackass, but when they walked out to the truck, the thick air made his decision to stock up on nonperishables feel justified. The mountain range to the west was serving as a perfect vantage point to watch the instability in the atmosphere form, and towers were already starting to form. Soon, the small cloud formation would erupt into large thunderheads much like the atomic-like clouds he watched the night before.

  Cecilia was quiet on the drive home, and Ty was busy playing with a toy in the backseat, in his own little world where Ryan hoped he’d stay. The kid got scared from a small thunderstorm. How would he handle a massive storm? Hopefully, they wouldn’t have to find out.

  “I’ll get all of this down in the cellar. I wanna pull the camping stuff out and see what all we have.”

  “Go inside and wash your hands, Ty. I’ll make you a snack.” Turning back to Ryan, she grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Everything will be fine.”

  “I know. Your dad just got me thinking.”

  “He tends to do that. I’m gonna go inside and help Ty. Let me know if you need anything.” She leaned in and pecked him on the cheek, her smile calming Ryan’s nerves.

  Ryan carried the bags of groceries down into the cellar, the musty scent nauseating. Pulling the light on, he skimmed his fingers through the dust that had collected on the shelves. He had eight bottles of different types of wine on a cabinet – some of them representing special occasions. Lifting a bottle of Moscato, he reminisced about his and Cecilia’s wedding day. He had to hide the bottle from everyone at the reception, and fifteen years later, he still had it, just waiting for the perfect moment to open it.

  Sliding it back on the shelf, he put the bags of groceries nearby, not even bothering to organize them. The cellar wasn’t the cleanest place, and he wanted to make sure all of his camping gear was in working order.

  Getting back to ground level, the sudden change in barometric pressure took his breath away, and his head felt like it was going to explode. Looking toward the mountains, the towers he had just watched were huge, darkening the sky like it was night time. Trees swayed in the wind, and the temperature must have dropped about fifteen degrees within minutes. The sky held a green hue, which meant hail was on the way.

  Hurrying inside, he flipped it to a local TV station.

  “A tornado watch has been issued for all of the viewing area. A fast developing squall line will be moving across the area as an outflow will force the dry line to retreat. We are dealing with a very unstable atmosphere, so please keep it here, and we’ll let you know of any warnings or danger that may arise from this ominous storm system.”

  Ryan couldn’t take his eyes off of the screen as he watched the Doppler change each time it swept over the storms.

  “Ryan, you gonna answer that?” Cecilia pointed at his cell phone on the table. He didn’t even realize it had been ringing until she broke his concentration.

  “This is Gibson.”

  “Gibson, it’s Lieu.”

  “Hey, Lieutenant Cannady.”

  “Are you able to go out and spot? I’m trying to get all the guys out there. It’s looking pretty rough and we need as many eyes on the storm as possible to relay back to town.”

  Ryan didn’t answer at first, his worry on Cecilia and Ty. He also had a duty with the fire department. “Yeah, Lieu. Let me get with Cecilia and I’ll call you back.” He hung up the phone and slipped it in his pocket.

  Cecilia folded her arms over her chest and bit her bottom lip. She knew exactly what that phone call was about. “They want you to go chase, don’t they?”

  Chapter Three

  Ryan thought long and hard before deciding to go chase. He had a responsibility to his family and one to the fire department, and since the storm looked to be tracking west of their area, he decided to go chase for a while. He’d keep Cecilia informed and told her to keep the scanner on. Any word of it getting remotely close and she was to take Ty down into the cellar and not come out until things cleared up.

  Taking the highway south, his best bet was to come in behind the storm. That was where the strongest part would be, and he wouldn’t get stuck in a hail shaft or a rain-wrapped tornado if he stayed back. It was also the best way he had learned to find out which way it was moving.

  Rain had already come through and the roadway was wet. Slowing his speed, he made sure not to hydroplane. He spotted the hail shaft immediately. It didn’t appear to be over a populated area, but he radioed in what he was seeing.

  “There is a hail shaft on the south side of the storm. Looks to still be moving more northward, and right now it is over some farmland.”

  “10-4, Gibson. What is your position?” Lieutenant Cannady’s voice shook. It was something that happened in the midst of action and a nervous tick Ryan had learned about his superior.

  “I’m on Highway Five to the south, coming up right behind it.”

  “What’s the damage look like?”

  “There are some tree limbs down and the hail on the side of the road looks like it snowed out here. We’ve got some farmers who will probably need to get out here and count their cattle. Storm looks to be strengthening as it moves north. No towns in its path, but if it holds together, Roger’s Pass will be under the gun.”

  “Copy, Gibson. Thanks.”

  Ryan put the radio in the passenger seat and watched the sky. There wasn’t much traffic out, but the vehicles that were passing him flashed their lights and honked, probably thinking he was a moron for driving toward the natural disaster.

  Pulling his phone out, he snapped a couple of pictures. He had seen some monster sized storms, but this one was a beauty, as long as it stayed away from towns. Slowing his truck to almost a stop, he pulled to the side of the highway and rolled his window down. The air was cold, almost like winter, matching the hail caught in the grass, appearing as if it had snowed. It looked like softball sized had come through, and a nearby barn had been slammed.

  Gripping the steering wheel, Ryan second-guessed himself. He was well trained but had never been coached on a storm like this. The air was damp and a hint of spring blew in the wind. The sky was an ominous green mixed with gray, and the trees whipped around. Rain splattered his windshield, but it was quick, and it stopped just as fast as it had started.

  An SUV came up behind him, traveling fast, but slowed as it approached him. There were two occupants inside, a male and female, and the passenger side window rolled down. The side of the car said something about The National Weather Service, and with the radio antenna and weather gadgets, it didn’t take a genius to realize they were professional storm chasers.

  “You need help, sir?” The man leaned over the console and yelled across.

  “No. I’m with the local fire department. Out spotting for Harper Springs.”

  “Looks like it’ll miss your community. But I wouldn’t sit here too long.”

  Ryan sat up in his seat. “Why’s that. We’re not safe behind it?”

  “This is a new formation for us, but it looks like we’v
e got a back-tracker. The anvil has shifted and it’s going to turn and come back southwest.”

  Ryan’s heart skipped a beat, and he gripped the steering wheel. They were sitting right in its path, and as the storm chaser had predicted, the darkness was getting closer, coming right back down Highway Five.

  He didn’t have a chance to say anything to the chasers. Rain fell from the sky, hindering his view out of the front window. In seconds, the hail shaft would be there, so he did a fast U-turn and slammed his foot on the accelerator, flooring the pickup. The engine revved and the RPM’s shot to the max, his tires skidding in the water that pooled on the road. He saw the SUV in front of him, but the red tail lights disappeared in the sheets of precipitation that came in horizontally.

  He was going almost one hundred miles per hour, but it still wasn’t fast enough to escape the storm that was right on his heels. It was so dark that if the storm was tornadic, there was no way for him to know. His radio crackled in the seat next to him, but he didn’t have a chance to answer it. If he took one hand off of the steering wheel, he’d lose control of his truck.

  Hail came next, and it fell in shards. There was no way to even tell how to measure it. Pieces crashed into the hood of his truck, damaging it on impact like it was a toy.

  Ryan looked to his left and spotted the largest tornado he had ever seen, including ones he saw in pictures. The only thing he could think to do was go the opposite direction again, and he turned down a farm to market road. It was the only chance he had to get away before the storm completely consumed him.

  ~~

  Cecilia made sure that Ty wasn’t in the room. The scanner was going crazy with multiple spotters reporting what they were seeing, but where in the hell was Ryan? He had just spoken to Lieutenant Cannady and then he was gone. The guys had called him several times, but he didn’t respond.