Rick counted down from behind the camera and pointed at Seth.
Showtime.
42
Elaina could feel it as soon as she stepped out of her truck. The air crinkled with electricity. The smell of ozone so strong her nose twitched. The air on her arms stood on edge. Maybe because of her nerves, or maybe from the raw power of Mother Nature.
The Forecast Channel vehicles sat across the field, at a respectable difference. Seth whacked his golf club against little white balls. Was he hoping to poke holes in the storm clouds?
Tuck’s group milled about. Some of them pointing at the rotating clouds, pulling out phones to record it. Others glanced around nervously, obviously wishing they’d spent their hard-earned vacation at an amusement park or staring at a giant hole in the ground.
Elaina distanced herself from the group, hoping they’d forget about her. So if she needed to walk right into the storm to get answers, no one would stop her.
For at the center, at the point of the most pressure, would be the truth of her past. Her ground truth. She was already in the vortex. Just needed to open her eyes and see.
The tail of the twister touched down. Narrow, sleek, almost white, it stood out against the dark gray backdrop of clouds. It dropped a few miles from where they stood, but the pull of air tugged her toward it.
When it dropped, it hovered in one place. It seemed to study her as much as she studied it. Was it checking to see if she was worthy? Contemplating if she could handle the truth of her past?
Elaina closed her eyes and tilted her face up. Her mind thumbed through the memories so far. Being trapped, afraid, but the face of the kind man who found her. The hospital, strangers and the blinding light. Dancing with a woman who looked so much like her. Running. She had to get help.
She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, rubbing the dirty tears from her face. The memories weren’t just pictures, they were emotions. Emotions that stole her breath.
Emotions that made her want to crawl into her mother’s lap and have her tell her it would all be okay.
Emotions that reminded her she was loved.
Both before and after the storm.
“Come on, come on,” she mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut and begging the final piece to come forward, to tell her what happened to the woman who’d birthed her. To tell her who she was and where she’d come from.
The roar of the storm dropped off to the sound of a mewling kitten. She opened her eyes and the twister had backed away from her, its tail lifting off the ground.
“No,” she whispered. “Come back.”
The storm retreated more.
The clouds overhead slurped the tornado, her tornado, back into its lair.
She ran after it, her boots slipping in the soggy field. “Don’t do this to me. Come back!” Rain pelted her, stinging her eyes. Elaina tripped, she caught herself before landing face down. She reached around, grabbed the rock at her feet and threw it at the place where the tornado had touched down. “You owe me,” she screamed at the storm. “You took everything from me. You owe me this.”
Elaina knelt in the mud, wrapping her rain jacket even tighter around her. No memories. Nothing to tell her anything else about who she was, except a soaked failure who managed to get her best friend killed, her dog injured and caused her mom to have a stroke.
She scanned the sky, searching for any sign if that was curtains for the storm, or if the outbreak was just getting started.
That was when she was it. A few miles north of her. Like water running down the drain, the clouds circled and churned, picking up speed. The tiniest hint of a tail peaked at her from the base of the clouds.
Elaina hopped up from the ground and sprinted to her truck. The backend spun in the mud, but managed to find enough solid ground to shoot her onto the dirt road. Her foot pressed the accelerator to the floor and the old truck’s engine growled over the sound of the wind.
She kept an eye on the clouds, watching the tightening rotation. She slammed on the brakes, not bothering to pull the truck off the road.
With confident even steps, she strode onto the field, stopping just below the rotating clouds.
If the tornado wasn’t going to answer her questions, it might as well suck her into oblivion.
43
Seth watched the reflection of the tornado on the camera lens. He’d seen more twisters in this storm season than he had his entire life, and yet each touchdown sparked an icy explosion of fear through his veins.
This season had taught him a lot about those storms, but most importantly, it’d taught him they couldn’t be trusted. As soon as he got comfortable with the knowledge they’d always move from the southwest to the northeast, a sneaky bastard came up behind him.
This storm season had also taught him a lot about people. Sometimes tornados and people weren’t that different. What lay in the center was usually a swirling mess of earth and emotions, regret and debris.
“And, we’re clear.” Rick dropped the camera from his shoulder and wiped sweat from his brow with his free arm. “The folks back at the studio are going to wet themselves over this footage. I’m going to head back to the truck, check the models to see where the next hook is forming.”
Seth threw him a nod and turned to the now-empty field. This had been a quick one. A thin, ropy twister that’d looked more like a water spout he might’ve seen over the Gulf than some of its larger cousins he’d seen over the plains. It was simply the scout. Something larger would soon be striking from this system.
Movement across the field stole his attention from the swirling clouds.
Elaina sprinted to her truck, her long braid whipping in the wind behind her. She was headed further down the dirt road before she even got her door shut.
“Hey, Rick,” he called out, not taking his eyes off her speeding truck. “You see that other hook yet?”
“Yeah, man, about two, three miles northeast of us. We should be good if we stay here.”
Elaina seemed to be headed in the direction of the hook. Deeper into the heart of the storm.
He narrowed his eyes, straining his vision to watch her even closer as her truck disappeared behind a plume of dust. Seth whipped his head back to Tuck’s group.
The man had broken from his guests and jogged to one of the vans. The massive maroon vehicle fish-tailed as it shot onto the road following the petite storm chaser.
He trusted that man less than a fickle EF5, especially with the ferocity in how he took off after Elaina.
“Looks like the next one might be rain-wrapped.”
Seth jumped at Rick’s voice. His cameraman stood next to him, and he’d not heard his approach.
“Not sure if we’ll be able to see anything or not.”
Those words squeezed his heart with the pressure of a dropping barometer.
The sky churned and rolled in on itself. Gray so dark it might as well have been black. Lightning shot out from the top of the cloud, crackling and shattering against the clouds with thunder like breaking glass.
Elaina wasn’t heading into a storm. She was heading into Hell.
He had it wrong. Tuck hadn’t made a deal with the devil.
He was the devil.
Seth swooped down and grabbed his club, turning his back on Elaina’s truck and Tuck’s pursuit long enough to jog to the SUV.
“Hey, where’re you going?” Rick called.
“Stay here, I’ll be back,” he growled.
His cameraman looked behind him, his gaze following where Seth had been staring.
Elaina’s truck took a hard left, and Tuck’s van followed on two wheels.
“I take it you don’t want the camera,” Rick said. “Watch your back, man.”
Seth looked over his colleague’s head and nodded. “You might want to go ahead and dial 9-1-1.”
44
Her ears popped at the tightening pressure, sending a cold wave of pain down her neck. The braid lost its hold and tendrils of hair sla
pped her face.
The developing tornado was greedy; stealing the young crops from the ground, branches from trees, the air from Elaina’s lungs.
Even though the storm had the energy for a twister, it was hesitant. Drop down, pull back up. Like a shy child hiding behind its mother’s skirt.
The sound of an engine roared behind her and headlights lit the darkening field. She glanced over her shoulder long enough to see a maroon hood.
Elaina turned back and took several steps forward; ignoring shouts and whistles behind her. “Come on, come on,” she mumbled, closing her eyes once more.
“Kiddo, what the hell are you doing?” Tuck shouted behind her.
“Stay back, Tuck.” She stuck an arm out behind her. “This is my life, my memories. Don’t stop me.” She emptied her mind, focusing on the raw power of the storm. Dirt pelted her, stinging as if it were being shot from a gun.
A strong hand tugged her elbow, pulling her back. “You’re too close. Back up, Lainey.”
The nickname hit her in the gut, pushing all of her air from her lungs.
Lainey.
A word she hadn’t heard since…
The dark-haired woman was crying, her pretty face twisted in anger. She argued with a man.
Their words didn’t make sense, but the intensity behind them scared Elaina.
The woman, her mother, frantically tossed their clothes in garbage bags. Not to throw them away. To go.
The man pulled their possessions from the woman’s hands, but the woman wouldn’t let go.
They tugged with the ferocity of a dog with a bone. With a mother trying to save her life.
The man let go of the bag and the woman flew back, stumbling until she tripped.
Her head hit the edge of a table with a thunderous pop and she fell to the floor. Everything stilled.
A dark red circle grew from under her mother’s head.
Thunder boomed overhead. Elaina stood frozen. Both in her memory and her real life.
The man turned, facing his crying daughter—her.
His hair was darker, cheeks smoother, no graying goatee covered his face, hiding the dimple in his chin he shared with…her.
His flat, blue eyes chilled her.
Even at her young age, instinct told her to hide. She dove under the bed, pushing herself as far back as possible.
Tornado sirens wailed outside. Lightning lit up her father’s hand, grappling to reach her from under the bed.
Then he stopped. A door slammed shut.
She crawled out, toward her mother. Mommy was hurt. Needed help.
Elaina ran out the door. Her footie pajamas got soaked. It was dark. She didn’t know where they were. It wasn’t home.
Doors stared back at her, but none of them opened when she banged on them. She had to get help.
She had to run.
Elaina opened her eyes.
The rotation scooted back, but still churned overhead, not yet birthing a tornado, but definitely in labor.
“You,” she breathed.
Tuck stilled beside her. His face morphed from confident arrogance to recognition, then white with fear.
“You killed her.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “It was an accident. She was going to take you from me. You have to believe me.” He reached for her, but she swatted his hand away.
Headlights bounced down the road toward them, a bright blue SUV swaying in the rising wind.
“You left me there! I was a child. You killed my mother and left me.” Anger spun in her gut, heating her despite the wet chill washing over her body.
“I was going for help.” His voice was pitched higher and he grabbed her shoulders, his fingers digging in, hurting her. “I swear. When I came back the motel had been hit. You both were gone.”
“Hey.” Seth’s words sliced through the howling wind. He walked toward them, golf club in one clinched fist. “Let her go, Tuck.”
Her father turned toward the reporter.
Elaina slipped out of her raincoat, out of his grip.
He was faster than she’d expected and he grabbed one wrist.
“This doesn’t concern you, Maddux. It’s between Lainey and me.”
Every time he said that word, the name he’d called her as a child, her stomach twisted.
Seth narrowed his eyes and took three more stalking steps.
She looked back up at the cloud.
The twister snaked down, getting closer to the earth.
Something flew past her, heading straight for the reporter. She opened her mouth to warn him, but it’d already struck him, knocking him flat on his back.
“Seth!”
She tried to pull free of Tuck, but he held even tighter. “What’re you doing? Let me check on him.”
“It’s too late for him.” The man’s eyes were wild, desperate. “I messed up, Lainey, you have to believe me. I was scared. I was just a kid when we had you.”
The tornado thudded onto the ground behind them. Ever the storm chaser, Tuck shifted his attention from her to the storm, his jaw dropping slightly to take in the twister.
Elaina used the distraction to get away. She slid on the ground next to Seth.
Blood streamed from his temple.
She pushed up his sleeve, pressing his wrist to feel his pulse, but she was tackled from behind before she could find one.
Tuck pulled her back.
She fought and kicked at him, but he dragged her by her feet.
Elaina tried to anchor herself to Seth, but only succeeded in grabbing hold of his golf club.
“Leave him, he’s not like us.” Her father spoke as he tugged her toward the tornado. “He doesn’t understand. No one does. We can go. The two of us. Father-daughter chasers.”
She twirled around. Her backend bumped over the rough, wet ground as Tuck pulled her away from Seth. She dug her nails into the earth, but Elaina was no match to both his strength and the suction of the storm.
Finally, one of her flailing feet struck its mark, colliding with his gut.
Tuck dropped her and doubled over, his face paling before turning red. “You’re just like her,” he growled through gritted teeth. “You look just like her, and, princess, you’re stuck up, just like her. Thinking your degree is better than my street smarts. She thought she was better than me, but who won, huh?” Like an animal leaping on its prey, he squatted back and sprung on her.
She rolled over and swung the golf club in one motion. The shaft caught him in the throat.
Tuck dropped forward onto his hands, coughing and gagging.
Elaina jumped to her feet and held the club up high, like a baseball bat.
The twister crawled closer to them, creeping up on her father from behind.
“I won then, I’ll win again,” he rasped, pushing himself back to standing.
“You won nothing.” She swung the club, but only hit air. “You lost your family, your daughter. You killed my mother. You’re going to jail, Tuck.” She shuffled forward and swung again, but he jumped back. “It’s over! You ruined everything.” The swing got him, the head of the club striking his shoulder.
He ducked, throwing his arms over his head, but Elaina swung again, hitting his ribcage, sending him to his knees.
Debris scurried around them, burning her eyes.
The tail of the tornado was getting closer.
Closer than she’s ever been to one.
Dangerously close.
She raised the club overhead, ready to strike once more.
He shot a bloody wad of spit from his mouth. Tuck’s face softened, his gray eyes warmed.
“Those were Beth’s final words.” His voice was full of remorse. Her father shifted his gaze behind him and lifted his arms. “Get out of here, kiddo.” He closed his eyes, a beatific smile spread across his face.
Elaina dropped her arm, the club hanging loosely in her grip. “Not without you. You have pay for what you did.”
He squinted against the driving rai
n. “Lainey, you were the only thing I ever did right, until I did you wrong. I paid every day thinking I killed you that night. All these years…” Tuck stood and started walking backwards, away from her, toward the waiting storm. “I’m too old for jail.” He glanced behind him once more. “I loved you more than anything. More than life…I’ve always wanted to see what lies in the heart of the vortex.”
She chewed her lower lip, the approaching wind tugged her in and pushed her back, as if threatening to take her, but deciding it didn’t want her.
Not yet.
Elaina sprinted back to Seth’s prone body, pulling him upright. They had to get to the ditch, get low.
He groaned and winced, opening his eyes a sliver, before they widened at what stalked them. Seth stumbled as they ran. He practically threw her into the ditch, covering her body with his.
The tornado howled and wailed over them.
Metal screamed. Or, maybe it was Elaina.
She tried to breathe, but there was no air, only muddy water. It felt all consuming, as if the entire world was made up of this single tornado.
When it was gone, when the air was still, when her ears rang from the silence, when her heart questioned everything that’d happened, and when she looked up to find Tuck vanished, everything felt hollow.
45
Elaina rubbed her thumb across the top of her mother’s hand, smiling at the lively pink flesh, the blue veins strumming with life.
The hand jerked, tried to close, but the muscles were weak from the stroke and underuse.
“I should’ve told you about your history. But you didn’t remember it, you’d blocked it.” Connie’s words were slow and slightly slurred. But, from what the doctors told them, nothing that couldn’t be overcome with physical therapy. “I thought it was for the better to not reopen old wounds.” Her lower lip trembled. “And, as time went on, I thought you’d hate me for keeping it from you.”
She wanted to argue with her mom, tell her she could never hate her, but Elaina called herself a liar. Sometimes growing up didn’t happen gradually, sometimes it happened in a flash.
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