The Damaged Climate (Book 1): Tornado Warning

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The Damaged Climate (Book 1): Tornado Warning Page 17

by J. R. Tate


  If they left to find help, it meant no shelter, even more limited food, and they’d be exposed to looters, wild animals, and lord knew what else. But it also meant that they were trying. And if the weather turned bad, the only saving grace would mean that they’d die fast and all suffering would be over.

  But what if Ryan was closing in on help for them? His son had always been stubborn and resourceful. If there was anyone he could trust to do what he promised, it was Ryan. And he’d do anything for his family. Him going off to get help proved the type of man he was. It’d be horrible if he made the decision to take Ty and get help, and they narrowly missed Ryan on his way back.

  If only he had a way of getting hold of him. He glanced over at Doug who had his head leaned back against the tree. If another storm threatened, he couldn’t leave him there. That would be cruel and inhumane, and even though Doug would probably leave him to die like that, Darryl didn’t have it in him.

  “You got something to say to me?” Doug asked. “You look like someone just ran over your dog.”

  “You sure are bold for a man who is tied up to a tree with a storm coming.” Darryl pointed west toward the dark, swirling clouds.

  “I’d prefer you leave me here. Why are you so set on surviving? We’re all going to die eventually. Might as well make it quick.”

  “We’ve had a shift in attitude, haven’t we?” Darryl smiled and handed him an apple. “Found it on a tree down the road. I forgot Ryan had a few of them on his place. There weren’t many apples left, but I harvested a few. Not quite ripe, but a change from all of the processed crap we’ve been eating.”

  “Why are you being nice to me?” Doug asked as he bit into it. Juices flowed around his mouth. It must have been a better one than Darryl had just eaten.

  “Being nice and being tolerant are two different things, Doug. I believe that if people come together in times like this, we can get a lot of stuff done.” He adjusted the bandana around his neck and looked at the sky. “Guys like you take advantage of situations like this, and look where it landed you.”

  “And you’re better off? That kid over there is worse off than me, and you shot me! All you two are doing is dying slow, old man. Take that gun of yours, put three bullets in the chamber, do us all a favor and kill us now! It’ll be quick and painless.”

  “And us giving up,” Darryl replied.

  “No, us accepting reality! What good is staying alive when we’re in a wasteland? Your son is dead! Don’t you think he’d be back by now if he wasn’t?”

  Darryl ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. It was like Doug could read his mind. “I can’t believe that, Doug. I don’t think he’s dead. I think he’s going to come back.”

  “Your mouth says one thing but your face says otherwise. You think he’s dead, but if you keep saying he’s not, it’ll make you feel better.”

  “I know my son. You don’t.”

  “Do your grandson a favor, Darryl. Kill us and then off yourself. Put us out of our damn misery!”

  Doug yelled and his voice traveled for miles. Darryl didn’t know what to say, so he walked away, torn between staying or taking Ty away. A storm was on its way, which bought him some time to mull it over. After it passed through, he’d make up his mind and stick with whatever decision he chose.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Getting through the night was rough. Between the constant pain in Ryan’s leg and the howling coyotes, sleep was impossible. He had never held onto his gun tighter, and any time he sensed something coming up on him and Steve, he sat up, ready to shoot whatever it was. Two encounters with coyotes were enough, and it likely wasn’t over just yet. With evidence of rabies present, it meant that other animals were likely infected, which meant fear of coming up to humans was gone, replaced by a desire to attack anything that got in their way.

  The sun began to come up on the horizon, and Ryan moved his leg to gauge how painful it was going to be to stand up. There was a deep ache in his thigh, but it wasn’t as bad as the initial injury. He double checked the bandage and put his hands on the ground, pushing his body weight upward. He groaned out in pain, but tried to keep quiet. Steve was sleeping next to the smoldering embers left from the night before, and he didn’t want him to see his struggle.

  Using the tree for support, Ryan got to a standing position and kept all of his weight on his good leg. Gritting his teeth, he took a step, limping as he went along. He wasn’t able to walk as fast as normal, but the fact that he was moving again made him feel almost human. Blood flowed through him, and though he hadn’t gotten any sleep, he hit his second wind.

  The injured leg did hurt and the tension of the homemade stitches burned. He had to take it easy so he wouldn’t rip them. After a couple of laps around their campsite, he zipped up his jeans and fastened his belt. He had lost some weight during their trek toward town, so the denim was loose around the wound, helping keep the dirty fabric from infecting him.

  “It’s good to see you up and moving. How do you feel?” Steve lifted his head up and stretched out.

  “Like a million bucks.”

  “You’re a damn liar,” Steve replied, laughing. “What, no coffee? What the hell are you good for?”

  “Get your ass up. If a storm comes, I can’t run. It’s still cool out, which means no daytime heating. We’re not far and we can make it to Harper Springs in an hour if we start now. As long as things go as planned.”

  They gathered up their supplies and made sure the fire was out. Ryan handed him a packet of crackers and they shared. His limp was very pronounced, and he found a decent sized walking stick to help with his balance. They crossed the river again and filled up their canteens.

  “Last time we’ll cross it. But it won’t be much longer now.”

  “You think there will actually be people in town?”

  “Yes. If I think anything different, there’s no point in going.”

  Neither spoke for a while as they walked. Ryan got lost in all of the what if’s that they could still run into. It was hard to keep control of taking things as they came. They had crossed so many bridges, made decisions at crossroads, and there were still so many possibilities lingering in front of them. Ty and Cecilia – his two main inspirations – his driving force to keep going even though he had a gaping hole patched up by sewing thread.

  “Ryan, did you notice the sky?” Steve asked. “We better hope that’s just rain.”

  “Son of a...” Ryan looked back, his heart skipping a beat. “That’s more than rain.” There was a large hail shaft almost a mile wide, close enough that he could hear the hailstones pelting whatever was left behind to destroy. The temperature fell, the cold air another indication that hail was imminent.

  The constant pain in Ryan’s leg was a huge reminder that he couldn’t run like he used to. But with the storm still south and making that much noise, it was producing massive hailstones. Every storm since this all began averaged baseball to softball sized, with bigger slabs of ice falling in between.

  They were very close to Harper Springs. He could see the population sign, dangling off of the metal pole, swaying in the wind. But the population sign still meant they had another mile before they even reached the actual city limits. It’d be a long run to beat the storm, and it still wasn’t a guarantee they’d find somewhere to hide.

  He’d take his chances. The wind picked up, and thunder rumbled. “C’mon, Steve, we gotta get moving.”

  “But your leg!”

  “To hell with my leg or we’re dead men!”

  He felt the stitches rip as he ran. The pain was almost unbearable, but with a massive storm right behind him, it was enough inspiration to push through the pain and get to safety. Warm blood soaked into his jeans and trickled downward. It’d be an ugly mess when all was said and done, or maybe it wouldn’t matter. If they couldn’t get somewhere safe, he’d be dead anyway.

  Hail came out of the sky like huge bombs. Steve was right in front of him, splashing t
hrough large puddles, the mud serving as quicksand, hindering them from going any faster. Ryan’s lungs burned. His leg ached. He couldn’t count how many times he got pelted with hail. But he kept moving. He was going to win this battle. He came too far to let it all end right there, with Harper Springs just over the hill.

  The wind was so strong that it sucked them backward like a vacuum. Steve held onto Ryan and they hopped into a ravine that was about five feet deep. It had some water in the bottom, but if they crouched down, the dirt walls would serve as a small barrier, separating them from the elements.

  Ryan watched the sky overhead. Cloud to cloud lightning flashed and the dark clouds were ominously beautiful. The storm was right over them, horizontal rain, wind, and loud crackles of thunder pushing through, ready to devour whoever stood in its way. Ryan gripped the dirt around him, a nervous tick that had developed through all of it. He hadn’t spotted any more hail, and the storm dissipated, leaving behind rain and light wind. The trees danced in the breeze and the water in the ravine was deeper. If the storm had moved slower, the possibility of drowning would’ve been a horrible reality. But somehow, they had escaped another temper tantrum from mother nature.

  “We gotta get you some help, Ryan.” Steve pointed to his leg. “It’s bleeding again.”

  “But I’m breathing,” Ryan replied. “You get hit?”

  Steve touched his forehead and looked at the blood on his fingertips. “Didn’t even feel it. I’ll be damned.”

  They climbed out of the ravine and Ryan limped toward the highway. The sun was out like nothing had happened. “Damn you, mother nature.”

  “Is that Harper Springs?”

  Ryan shielded his eyes from the sun, the sight in front of him haunting. It was Harper Springs, but not the small town he had remembered. It was the same story as the farmhouses they had come across. Foundations were the only thing that proved a building ever stood there. Groves of trees were stripped of their leaves and small branches, leaving stumps. Small piles of rubble and debris were scattered across the area, which gave him a small shred of hope that there were people around, attempting to get things cleaned up.

  “Where is everyone?” he asked, taking a step closer. Vehicles were turned over, none appearing to be in working order. “Keep an eye out for a car that might work for us. It’d be quicker than trying to fix Mrs. McElroy’s.”

  “Holy shit, it’s like a bomb hit!” Steve surveyed the area, running from debris pile to debris pile. “I wonder who is here.”

  Ryan didn’t know what to say. The town he knew and loved was leveled. Childhood memories at the park, gone. Houses destroyed. Businesses tore up and people’s hard work destroyed. Would they ever be able to bounce back from this? Did they even want to?

  “Ryan! Ryan Gibson!” He heard the voice in the distance, but at first he chalked it up to his imagination and his wishful thinking.

  Ryan hobbled on his strong leg. Squinting into the sun, he saw a person about a half a mile down the road, waving at him. He still couldn’t make out who it was, but signs of another human life lit a fire under Ryan, his pessimism replaced by a small twinge of hope.

  “Ryan!” The person yelled again, his arms waving.

  Was it Chief Rayburn? Ryan walked as fast as he could, but it was slower than Ty’s pace. They finally met in the middle of the road. His superior on the fire department looked in almost as bad of shape. He had lost a lot of weight and his arms were covered in cuts and wounds.

  “Chief Rayburn! What in the hell is going on?”

  “No one knows for sure, but it’s not just us. This destruction is at least statewide and likely across the country. We have no way of calling out or getting information, which is why the assumption is this is much larger than a regional issue. It’s like Revelations is really happening.”

  “You’re not the first person to say that to me.”

  “How many people have you come across out there?”

  “Not as many as it sounds like. I picked up this guy. He’s been a good help to me. Steve, this is Chief Rayburn.”

  They shook hands and Chief Rayburn’s eyes fell on Ryan’s leg. “We need to get you some medical attention!”

  “I don’t have time. I’m trying to find Cecilia. And I gotta get back to Ty. He’s hurt worse than me, and I don’t even know...” he cut himself off, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “I don’t even know if he’s still alive. It’s been a couple of weeks since I left to get help and...”

  “Who is with him?”

  “My father. Who all is here in town? Who made it?”

  Chief Rayburn patted Ryan on the shoulder, his eyes downcast. “Not many. But we have a temporary emergency room going on over at the Baptist church in the basement. And the basement at the Methodist church is being used as a… as a morgue, Ryan.”

  “A morgue?”

  “We go out and try and find people who need help, but you’ve seen the weather. If we go too far, we’re all dead. We’ve found a few alive, but we’re finding twice that many who are dead. We’ll have to find another place to put the bodies soon.”

  “Have you found Cecilia, Chief? Be straight with me.”

  “Let’s head over to the churches, Ryan. You need to get that leg fixed up, and your friend Steve here needs his head looked at. You can’t help Ty if you can’t even walk.”

  The fact that Chief Rayburn didn’t want to answer him made Ryan fear he’d find Cecilia at the Methodist church in the morgue. Maybe he hadn’t seen her. The walk over was sad. He could point out where people’s houses were, where he and Cecilia loved to go eat, and the park where Ty always asked to go play at when they were running errands. And now it was a war zone.

  A nurse Ryan didn’t recognize triaged him and made him sit on a gurney. There weren’t very many people around, so she was able to get to him quickly. He imagined it was a different scene across the street, with lifeless bodies strewn across the cement floor.

  “If Cecilia is at the Methodist Church, just say it, Chief. I need to know. I don’t have time to...”

  “Ryan?”

  There was no mistaking the voice, and when he looked her way, he felt the warmth fall down his cheeks. Cecilia was standing by the basement door, her midsection wrapped in an ace bandage. She also looked thinner and exhausted, but Ryan had never seen her so beautiful. Ignoring the nurse’s warning to stay still, he scooped his wife up into his arms and kissed her, joy taking him over, making him forget about the chaos around him.

  “Where’s Ty?” Cecilia pulled away.

  “Back at home in the cellar. My dad is with him. Listen, Cecilia, he’s hurt. He’s hurt pretty bad.”

  “What happened?” Her eyes were wide, tears gathering in the corners.

  “His arm and his head. Happened right when the first storm hit. I guess during the commotion of getting him down in the shelter it happened, but I wouldn’t even be able to tell you how. He’s alive. And I left them with food. I came looking for you and I’m so glad you’re safe. But now I need to get back to Ty and bring him here. Now that I know there are others who made it… who can help him.”

  Cecilia nodded and a stray tear fell down her face. Ryan swiped it away with his index finger. “It’s so dangerous out there, Ryan.” She whispered, ducking her head. “But I know if there is anyone who can get our baby here, it’s you.”

  “I’ll do anything I can to make sure it happens.”

  “I’m so scared, Ryan. Everyone is talking about the end of the world. The second coming. Tornadoes, landslides, earthquakes, typhoons. Everyone on the planet is supposedly going through some kind of weather phenomenon.”

  “I guess we won’t really know the truth until we can make contact with people out there.”

  “I thought I’d never see you again. I thought you and Ty had died. I got so lucky. I stopped by Chief Rayburn’s house on the way in that day. His wife wanted to give me some zucchini. And as soon as I got out of the car, they were pulling me into safety. And the
n, we ended up here. It’s all a blur. I can’t even remember most details. But I’ve spent most of my time worrying about you and my baby.”

  “And your parents? Have you heard from them?”

  Cecilia shook her head and more tears fell. “No. The rescue teams are trying to get out there, but you know how it is. You came all the way from the house to here. That’s nothing short of a miracle.”

  “And I’ve gotta go back. I’ve got to get Ty and Dad. But I found Mrs. McElroy’s car. It’s flooded, but if I can get enough tools, I can rig it up enough to drive and turn a long trip on foot into a quick one. Finding the tools will be the hard part.” He held her hand, probably squeezing too tight. “What’s with the Ace bandage?”

  “Cracked rib. It’s not helping much, but there’s not much the medical staff can do. They were able to scrounge up a few things and it’s better than nothing.”

  “Look at us. It’s like we’ve gotten hit by a damn freight train.”

  That made Cecilia smile, and she tiptoed and pecked Ryan on the lips. “I guess technically we have. Isn’t that the way all the rednecks describe the way twisters sound on the news? Like a big train?”

  Ryan laughed and kissed the top of her head. “Everything is going to be fine. I promise.”

  “Mr. Gibson, we really need to look at your leg.” The nurse motioned him toward the gurney. “Sit right here relax. We’ll have you feeling better in no time.”

  Ryan couldn’t tell if she really meant it, or was being sarcastic. With the lack of medical equipment available, he was sure it was the latter.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  After an IV of fluids and a thorough cleaning of his wound, Ryan felt like a new man. The nurse had done a good job of stitching him back up, and with a clean pair of pants, the chances of infection had been reduced. Cecilia had put it correctly – everything had been a blur.

 

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