by Holly Hook
* * * * *
I wake to a knock on my window. It slaps me out of the safe darkness and I sit up, blinded by the light of my room.
It's Tommy at my window, fist frozen in mid-tap.
I rush over and open it. We're separated by a thin screen, but he doesn't back away or put any precious space between me and him. His face remains blank, unreadable. I'm not sure if that's good or bad.
"Hey," he says. He's quiet like he’s scared someone’s listening. "I tried to come in like normal people, but your dad said you were sleeping and didn't want to be bothered."
Tommy.
He's come to see me, not run away from me.
"Get in here." I pop out the screen and back away to let him climb in. I scan my floor to make sure I haven't left any underwear out or anything. Nope. And why am I worried about that when Tommy just discovered my worst secret right along with me?
I take a long time putting the screen back into the window.
"So," Tommy says, digging his shoe into my carpet. "Did what I see happen, you know, actually happen?"
He’s just gotten right to it. A big part of me's relieved.
I focus on my poster of crystals on the other side of the room. "Yeah." I can barely push the word out.
Tommy sits on my bed. "Oh, man, Allie. What did you catch on that trip? Remind me never to go."
I sit--no, collapse--on the floor and I tell him.
Every last word. The chase. The barn. Everything.
The words pour out of me like a waterfall trying to escape its river. "I thought I just had some hallucination under stress or something but I guess I didn't. Those people did something to me. I don't know why."
"Because you like storms?"
I lift my gaze from the floor to Tommy. He kicks his feet back and forth, making gentle thuds on the frame of my bed. His gaze is a question, not a laugh. He believes me. How can he not after what he witnessed?
"That's what that woman pretty much said." I untangle my legs and stand. I've got to pace around the room, move, do something. "But that doesn't really tell me why they did it. I mean, it would have been easier for them to leave me alone. There's got to be some better motive than that behind it."
"Maybe." Tommy stands too. "We've got to find out the whole story here. I don't think we know it all."
"I know we don't." I grab the back of my computer chair, listening to my parents walking around out in the kitchen. It’s nine thirty, almost time for them to go to bed. "I mean, what good reason is there for them to make me this? I could hurt or kill somebody next time it happens, because I have a feeling that I’m going to transform every time it storms.” I stare hard at him. “Did anyone die? Get hurt?”
Tommy breathes out. “A bunch of trees, but that’s it. Someone’s house got some damage, too. Beyond that, nothing.”
I let my shoulders fall and relax. There’s no sign of a lie in his face. I want to cry with the relief.
"Allie." Tommy grabs my arm. He’s warm. Calm. I want him to hug me and tell me I’m not a freak. That everything will be all right.
I'm gripping the chair so hard I'm shaking.
Tommy eyes the computer screen. "We need to check and see next time there's going to be storms here. If that’s what makes you transform.”
I’m so focused on his touch that I barely make out his words. But he's right.
I lean over the computer pull up the weather site. We go right to the ten-day forecast for Williams Town.
Tomorrow: 40% chance of thunderstorms. Monday: Isolated thunderstorms. Tuesday: Morning T-Storms, 60% chance. Wednesday: Sunny. It's a forecast that if I hadn't become some kind of were-tornado or whatever, I would love.
"Great." I let my forehead fall to the computer desk. "Just great." I keep my voice level, trying to hide the rising flood of terror inside.
It's going to happen again. I know it.
But when?
The sound of some kids playing outside float in through the open window.
Not knowing is the worst.
Tommy breathes out slow somewhere close. I can feel his breath on my cheek. It makes tingles run down my neck. "Man, Allie. This sucks. What are we going to do?"
I don't miss the way he says we. Tommy’s not abandoning me. He’s sticking with me even though he knows what I am. It makes me want to jump up and down, squealing. "All I can think of is to find that woman and guy who did this to me. Other than that, your guess is as good as mine." I blink and the endless plains of Nebraska spread out behind my eyelids, backlit by lightning and crowned with black skies. "Where's Bethany, by the way?" That’s almost as hard to say than the story I just told Tommy.
Tommy taps his fingers on the back of my chair. "She's…well, too freaked out about this right now. I'm sure she'll come around, Allie."
There's doubt in his voice. It's there, trying to crawl away and hide.
My stomach churns. "How does she think this makes me feel?"
“I’ll try to talk to her about it,” Tommy says. He walks over and takes the mouse. "Is there an email for that storm chaser company? It sounds like your best bet is to find out where that tornado hit the van."
"And…?" I press, hope growing inside me. It's not much, but I think we're onto something.
Tommy slides my keyboard towards him. "That barn that woman and that guy dragged you into can't be far from there. Would you know the barn if you saw it again?"
I can't remember anything except the barn. "I might. They were dragging me by my arms and legs. The place looked ready to collapse."
"Do you remember what highway you were on? Anything?"
"I remember fields. And more fields." The hope inside gets crushed like a flower trying to grow through the cracks of a busy sidewalk. There's no way I can remember the highway number, let alone the exact field where the tornado decided to ruin everything. “There’s got to be a way to find out.”
"You have the Wild Weather website you can contact," he says. "Ask them where the tornado caught you guys. You don't even have to say why you want the information."
"It's worth a try," I say, pulling up the site. I'm confronted by a banner that sports a mile-wide tornado ripping across the plains. Yellow text screams Wild Weather Storm Chasing Tours. Life-Changing Vacations Since 2002.
I snort, unable to resist. "It changed my life, all right."
Then I scroll down the page and my stomach lurches.
There's a picture of the tornado in the middle of the page.
The one that ripped me out of the van and left my uncle on the side of the road.
Still perfect white on the computer screen, it's curved, making up its mind.
Choosing me.
"Allie?"
"That's her."
"Her?" Tommy's eyes widen and he takes in the image. "Oh." He screws up his face, trying to take in the whole concept.
"Yeah. That's the tornado that carried me away. Must have been to the farm or wherever." Another idea hatches, jumping up and down and screaming. "Wait. There might be a trail of damaged crops or whatever that leads to wherever she took me. All we have to do is find that road again."
Tommy lets out a breath. "It's been over a week. Wouldn’t any damage be getting cleaned up by now?”
He's right. If I'm going to try that, I have little time.
But there’s more. The caption under the tornado picture reads Taken in East Nebraska during our most recent Wild Weather Tour. This tornado touched down a few miles from Highway 54 and about 4 miles north of Evansburg.
“Really?” I ask. “Kyle’s using this tornado to advertise? What’s wrong with him?”
“Yeah. That’s pretty stupid,” Tommy says.
"But that's it." I rise from the chair. "If we go there, we can easily find where the tornado went through. I think. There should be some evidence of where it went. Some flattene
d grass or some trees down. Even if there's not, the old barn has to be very close to that spot."
"We should write this down. So we can use these for directions when we go." Tommy lifts his eyebrows and takes in the photo.
"Good idea." I'm not so sure about that. I write down the location on a piece of scrap paper. I look at Tommy and his words sink in all the way. "We?”
“I’m going with you.”
I suck in a breath. There’s no lie on Tommy’s face. Warm, happy bubbles spread through me. But then they pop when another thought rushes in.
"I have to leave home. I'm too dangerous to stay here. What if I hurt Mom or Dad? Or you?"
Tommy says nothing. He knows it's true.
As if backing me up, a distant roll of thunder sounds through the air. In response, the growl rips through me again, eager to escape its cage and return home.
Chapter Seven