by Kade, Teagan
As I come into the living room I see him naked, rifle poised on his shoulder.
“Storm?”
“Alice, get down!”
There’s a crack in the distance and the living room window explodes.
I scream and dive to the ground.
Gunfire rips out from the open, bullets impacting the wall to my right and casting debris over the living room as Storm fires.
“The bathroom!” he shouts at me. “Run!”
I can’t just leave him defenseless like this.
“Go!” he screams. My legs kick into gear. They lift me up as bullets punch into the plaster and tattered remains of the window frame.
I race into the bedroom bathroom and lock the door, sitting in a ball in the corner with my hands over my ears and my heart beating so hard it feels like it will burst right out of my body.
God, Storm.
There’s silence. The gunfire has stopped.
I wait, my panting echoing against the tiles as the door bursts open. Storm stands before me. “Come on!”
I take his hand and he pulls me low through the house. Lights sweep through the windows as Storm pauses by the back door. His eyes are wide and alert. “I go out first and you follow right behind, got it?”
I nod, terrified.
He counts down. “One, two, three.” He kicks the door open and runs out into the night with rifle raised.
I come up behind him just in time to hear a shot and a shadowy figure slump forward in the distance.
Oh god.
I run right behind him into the barn. He locks the door behind us and points to the Chevy.
I head to the passenger’s door and get in.
Storm slides naked into the driver’s seat and kicks the engine over. It roars into life.
“Hang on,” he says, before planting the accelerator. The car leaps forward. Storm pulls the steering wheel hard left and we head straight for the barn doors.
“Storm!” I cry, just as the car blows through the doors, splintered timber flying over the windscreen as we tear out into the open.
“Get down!”
I hunker into the passenger foot well as bullets slam into the car’s body, the windscreen shattering and tiny fragments of glass tumbling over my back.
The car turns hard right and we’re headed towards the road, a twang as we cut through the wire fence and onto the gravel.
Storm looks down at me. “You okay?”
My voice is tiny. “Yes.”
He drives at full speed.
I see lights in the distance, red and blue. Two police cars fly past us, another swerves to a stop ahead, forcing Storm to slam on the brakes.
The car comes to a stop, rattling like a spray can as glass slides off me.
Shouting.
Voices.
A prevailing ringing sound in my ears.
“It’s alright, Alice.”
I know that voice.
I look up to find Dan outside, one hand on his pistol and the other using a touch to shine into the interior of the car. He comes to the side of the Chevy and opens the door. It falls away onto the road and I step out, shaking from head to toe.
Storm goes to speak, but Dan cuts him off. “I know, I know. We’ll head them off. Good thing your neighbor was down at your dam doing a spot of night fishing. He raised the alarm, saw the whole thing.”
I can hear gunshots ringing in the distance again.
Dan’s radio is going crazy.
He runs back to his patrol car, talking quickly into his receiver.
Storm takes the opportunity to get out of the car and find a blanket to wrap himself in.
Dan comes back to us. “It’s over. Two dead, one of my men with a flesh wound to the thigh, but all accounted for.”
“What’ll happen to them?” Storm asks.
“Attempted murder, trespassing… who knows? We’ve been after them for a while.”
Storm steps forward. “We could have been killed!”
“Hey, hey,” both men stand chest to chest. I’ve never seen Dan so agitated. “I’m not the one hiding the drug money.”
Storm wants to punch him. I know he does.
“Go on,” Dan taunts, “Do it, live up to your family name.”
“Please!” I cry. “I just want to go home.”
Dan comes over, hands around my shoulders. “Come on, Alice. Let’s go. You don’t belong here.”
Barely able to comprehend what is happening, I let him guide me to his car and press me into the passenger seat.
Another patrol car pulls up and Dan steps up to the window, pointing at Storm and nodding.
Dan comes back to the patrol car and hops in, smiling at me from behind the steering wheel. “I’m glad you’re safe, Alice. That’s all. I couldn’t live with myself if you were hurt caught up in the middle of this mess.”
“What’s going to happen to Storm?”
“He’ll be taken to the station, questioned. It’s standard procedure.”
“He shot that guy in self-defense.”
“I know. We’ll deal with it.”
“He won’t go to jail?”
“I doubt it. The neighbor saw it all. He’s a witness.”
“Who were they? Bikers?”
“Yeah, nasty motorcycle club from down south. Been on the hunt for that money for years. Guess it’s finally reached a boiling point of sorts.”
Dan turns in his seat. “Look, I understand the attraction, but if you play with fire, sooner or later you are going to be burnt.”
I don’t have any reply. I agree.
He starts the car and we drive off.
I turn and watch as the blue and red lights flicker over the scene – the busted Chevy and Storm watching me go.
Chapter Fifteen
I make my way to the station in the morning. Prior to my return to Rosie I barely even knew where the police station was. Now here I am a regular visitor.
“What do you mean he’s gone?”
The deputy behind the desk scratches behind his ear, pressing another pencil into the electric sharpener before him. “Gave his statement and left.”
I can’t believe Storm would just up and leave without calling me, letting me know he is okay.
I head out front and call him, but his cell is off. I call again, and again, desperate to hear his voice.
Nothing.
I’m driving back home when I receive a message. I pick up my cell from the passenger seat and swipe up.
It’s him:
Forget me, Alice. I’m no good for you.
I pull over and call him again, but he’s switched the phone off.
“Fuck you!” I scream, hurling the phone across the dash.
I almost can’t believe it when it rings. I pick it up. “If you think for one second-”
“Alice?”
It’s Jemma.
I let out a long sigh “Shit, sorry, Jem. I thought it was-”
“Storm?”
“Yeah.”
“I heard what happened. You okay?”
My hands are still shaking. “Not really.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“With you?”
“Who else, stupid? Your dad? Tell him all about your slutty little sex life?”
Even pissed off as I am, I laugh. Jemma always knows how to bring a smile to my face. “Fine. Coffee?”
“In fifteen.”
*
The local diner’s going off when I enter. The place is packed for a weekday.
I take a seat by the window and wait for Jemma.
Looking in the reflection, I see Lisa and friends are seated in the back of the restaurant.
Fuck.
I watch in the glass. She’s pointing at me, the bitch. They all laugh together. I wait. Come on, Jem.
They laugh again and Lisa’s nasally voice enunciates the word ‘cunt’. She makes it real clear as she looks in my direction.
It’s getting to me. My temper rises,
skin prickling.
I don’t know how much more I can take.
“I heard she pushed him in front of that bus.”
That’s it. Before I realize it I’ve stood up and I’m marching over there. My legs just move, my head blanketed in white-hot anger.
Lisa’s friends shift back in their chairs. They look scared, but Lisa holds firm, crossing her arms in front of herself and tilting her head in that irritating way that says ‘got something to say?’.
I place my hands on the table and lean down to her. “Okay,” I start, “what’s your problem?”
“No problem.”
“You think I can’t hear you?”
“That was a private conversation.”
“My ass!”
She stands up, pointing at me. “I can’t help it that you’re still a bad person, Alice.”
I laugh. “A bad person! Are you kidding me?”
“You didn’t even go to his funeral.”
“Who, Tim?”
“Yes, Tim.”
“And why should you care? All you and your Mean Girl gang ever did was bully us and give him a hard time.”
“Only because we knew he could do better.”
“Why the sudden interest when he was dead then?”
“Hey, we care, okay.”
I know the real reason – jealousy.
A tear runs down my cheek and I feel weak. I’m giving into this bitch. “You wouldn’t know a thing about it, all ‘oh we’re so fucking sad you’re dead, Tim, we didn’t know you but so so sorry, wah-wah’.
A flicker of anger runs through Lisa’s eyes. “You don’t deserve anyone, Alice. No wonder that footballer had to beat you.”
I snap. I reach down and slap Lisa hard across the face with the flat of my hand.
Everything stops. My palm’s ringing as she brings a tentative finger to her cheek, mouth caught open in horror.
No one makes a move, a sound. Even the waitress is frozen.
A second later she launches across the table at me, cups and saucers crashing to the ground. She grips me hard by the hair, rolling me down to the ground. Porcelain crunches under my back as I try and throw her off, but the bitch is strong.
I heave a knee up between her legs, but without a dick to connect with, it doesn’t have the desired effect. She keeps gripping, gnashing her teeth together in front of me. “I’m going to fucking kill you, Everett!”
I roll to the side and manage to get her off. She slides across the tiles and comes back up, charging. I step aside and she skewers into the side of a table, going down like a sack of shit, winded and looking for breath.
I spit on her, right into her perfect fucking face, and leave.
My temples are beating as I come outside. I slam the door of the car closed and burn away, cutting off another car in the process, the horn blasting behind me.
Fresh tears stream down my face. All the hurt and pain comes pouring back. I drown in it.
It starts to rain.
Fucking perfect.
At home I pack, throwing things together, gathering what I can. I wipe the tears away with the back of my hand.
Dad comes into the room, slanted against the doorframe. “Everything alright, baby?”
I sniff and try to look together. “Fine, Dad.”
The rain grows louder outside.
“Have you been crying?”
He comes closer. “Was it that Millertown boy? Dan told me all about it.”
I throw my hands down on a pile of socks. “Jesus, can’t anyone in this god-damn town just mind their own business?”
Dad puts his hands up. “Look, I understand, Alice, but you’ve got to admit, it hasn’t been a good run with him. You’ve been shot at, almost arrested… You know I’m right.”
I do. If I was to look at it all in a logical manner it makes perfect sense, but I’m not logical. I am all emotion. That’s what makes me such a good writer, a writer people can identify with. I can pull it out of people, make others empathize. Reason alone doesn’t change minds, or policy. You need a groundswell. You need heart.
I turn to my father with red, panda eyes. I am eighteen again. “Dad, I just need to get away for a while.”
“But you just got back. You can’t keep running from everything.”
“Please, Dad.”
“Okay, okay.”
He heads down the hall and returns with a wad of Benjamins, pressing it into my hand. “Take it.”
“Dad, I can’t-”
“You can and you will. Stay safe. That’s all I ask.”
Hot tears spill down my cheeks as I hug my father. “I just need to clear my head. I’ll come right back, I promise.”
“I know you will, baby.”
“You’ll tell Mom?”
“She won’t be happy, but yes, I’ll tell her. Better I take the brunt of it, kiddo.”
Chapter Sixteen
I load the car and head off straight away. The rain’s coming down hard now. The wipers can’t keep up. It’s just like first day I was stranded.
It’s funny how everything has come full circle now. This was supposed to be a rebirth, a clean slate from which to build a better life, but as usual I’ve just fucked everything up. I come in, Cyclone Alice, and things crumble. That’s all I’m good for.
I pass the Welcome To Rosie sign and watch it shrink in the rear-view.
Once again I’m travelling away from my problems instead of tackling them head on, but maybe this is for the best. Was it a mistake to come to Rosie at all, to dredge up the past and find him along the way?
It’s too much for me to take in.
I turn on the radio, but it’s breaking up, turning into static.
It starts to really come down.
What is it with roads and rain around here?
I’m another few miles down the road when the rain becomes torrential. The wipers flash back and forth at full speed, the window Storm taped up beginning to come away at the corners and flap.
Storm.
A robotic-sounding voice breaks through the static on the radio.
This is a tornado emergency warning from the National Weather Service. A tornado emergency has been issued for Sackville County until 5:45PM Central District Time. A funnel cloud has been spotted in the immediate vicinity that poses a life-threatening risk. Take cover now. Move to the interior room on the lowest floor of a sturdy building. Avoid windows. Protect yourself from flying debris…
Something hard hits the back window, shattering it and spraying tiny fragments of glass throughout the cabin.
Not again. Jesus.
I pull to a stop in the middle of the road and scream as a sheet of iron cartwheels down the road and wind rushes through the interior.
I release the door handle and the entire thing swings out and bends against the wind. I come out of the car and almost collapse forward the strength of the wind is so great.
Where the hell did this come from?
There’s an odd whistling noise coming through the rain. I squint my eyes and spin around in the middle of the road. I see it past the trees and rise to the right. The whistling sound grows behind me, a force growing in magnitude.
I turn and my breath catches.
The entire horizon is blotted out by a storm, a giant funnel cloud just about to kiss the ground. The size of the thing staggers me, its sheer might and majesty right before my eyes as colors collude into an ominous green mass the size of a stadium.
It becomes clear: If I don’t find shelter, I could well die out here.
I look around, but there’s nothing. Yet again I am in the middle of nowhere.
“Fuck!” I cry, getting back into the car and turning around.
Heading back to Rosie’s the only option.
But the closer I get, the more the dark mass of clouds approaches from the side until it’s right in front of me, cutting off the road.
I see the funnel through the rain, teasing the ground again. It’s fucking monstrous.
Warnings continue to tumble out of the radio, static hissing and cutting off the voice.
I bring the car to a stop and turn around again. There’s nothing I can do now but go forward.
I drive at full speed, the poor motor straining and bouncing off the rev limiter. The tires hover above the surface of the road. I hang over the steering wheel, praying.
Another group of clouds move in ahead, moving fast. In no time they’ve blocked the road ahead and it dawns on me I am surrounded.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Chapter Seventeen
I’m about to drive forward and take my chances when a car comes sliding up beside me.
Dan?
I don’t know how he found me, but I’m really happy to see him now.
Dan pops the door open of his patrol car. I can’t hear him through the window, but his message is clear. “Get in!”
It takes effort simply to open my door the wind is so strong. Outside, I’m forced to plant my feet into the ground and lean into it to even get the door of the patrol car open. I slam the door closed and the din is momentarily blocked out.
“How?”
“Your dad.”
“But the road’s blocked at both ends by the storm. It’s making the groundfall, the twister.” I’m pointing ahead at the growing blackness.
“There’s an access road just a mile back behind us. It loops up behind the town heading west. We can still make it.”
He spins the car around as the wheels struggle for purchase and flattens his foot. The car fishtails across the road as we hurtle towards the tornado. It’s in full swing now, a tube of grey and black ripping the earth apart.
“We’re not going to make it.”
Dan squeezes the steering wheel. “Yes, we will.”
The tornado approaches, filling the entire windscreen and horizon ahead.
Dan doesn’t let off the throttle. “Just a little bit longer.”
“Dan!” I scream, as a giant sheet of metal collects with the roof of the car, peeling off the emergency lights.
There’s a sharp explosion from under the hood and the car suddenly swerves across the road. Dan wrestles with the wheel but the car skittles off into a divot on the side, the wheels spinning freely in the mud.
“Ah, hell!” he says, slamming the wheel.