Behind them, he watched as one of the other cars turned and headed south.
Wrong direction! The thought screamed through his head, but he didn’t say it out loud. What good would that do?
It was Miranda’s car. He recognized it and his heart stuttered at the serious gamble his boss had just made. There wasn’t time to dwell on it. Sarah was yelling frantically into the open space of the car.
“What do I do? What do I do? Where should I go?” She had one hand gripping the steering wheel as the other smacked against it.
Joule, ever calm in a crisis, leaned forward to make herself more easily heard.
“Unless we get too close to it, stick to the freeways. If we get on one of the smaller roads, we won't be able to go as fast.”
“Oh, I can go as fast,” Sarah said, the threat finally sounding less than frantic. But she said it as though it were merely a matter of hitting the gas pedal.
Joule, still outwardly breathing easily, replied, “Not on gravel roads, not with those potholes, not with those turns. If possible, stick to the highways.”
Cage could barely hear the words. Maybe it was only because he knew Joule as well as he did that he deciphered what she said. But he was tapping her on the shoulder and pointing out the back window once again.
Behind them, the monster had reappeared. Now it seemed to have moved toward the north end of the Helio Systems work site.
He was offering up a silent wish that his colleagues were safe as he saw a pale blue metal pylon launch into the funnel and disappear.
He gasped, but as he tried to process it, the image was gone. It was so fast that he had to wonder if he'd only imagined it. But next to him, Izzy breathed out, “Holy shit,” in a nearly reverent tone.
At the same time, Joule muttered, “Holy flying monkey balls.”
He would have laughed at the contrast had they not been stuck in the small car, fleeing for their lives.
“It's tracking us,” Izzy breathed the words, her awe apparent between the wispy tone and her wide eyes.
Though Cage knew that kind of anthropomorphic attribution to a weather system wasn't smart, it definitely did feel as if they were being actively searched out.
“Sarah!” he yelled, “Keep going forward. But take the next highway to the left that you can find.”
It was coming closer, the distance between the car and the storm shrinking with every passing moment. It was possible they couldn’t outrun it at all. But his brain was absorbing everything, the way the edges were somehow both rough and clear. The feeling of a limited space but the absolute destruction that dwelled inside it. The clear need to stay beyond the borders of the storm.
He’d told Sarah to turn left, but then he doubted the call.
Everything was a gamble. The funnel could turn on a dime. It could stop and hover, it could speed up. It could easily outrun cars. Tornadoes were known for that.
He wasn't as well-educated about them as he should be, but he'd looked up a little after the first one. He’d decided to stop learning, as the information had become more and more disturbing.
Funnels could cause an almost infinite amount of damage. They could appear and disappear at any time. They could form, touch the ground, and snatch a whole house into the sky, then be gone—all on a blue, clear day.
The first one they’d encountered had made his heart pound. And that had been even when they were sitting in the small room with the four of them feeling relatively safe. Though the windows had shook a little at the time, the walls hadn't.
But now, the car was rattling as the twister closed the distance.
The gray funnel took up a wider and wider section of his vision.
Sarah was aimed toward an intersection, the red light blinking as it swung wildly from a far-too-thin wire that threatened to snap at any moment.
“You have to turn!” Even as he finished yelling it, the tires squealed, and it felt as if the car rocked up on the outer two.
Joule and Izzy slammed into his side, as Sarah cranked the wheel around the sharp turn, completely ignoring the flashing red light.
Though he knew he was in the car, Cage cringed and ducked in the fear that the large traffic light would come through the air like a projectile aimed right at them.
But maybe the light wouldn’t kill them. Maybe the car would roll and they’d never make the turn… his stomach pitched again as the car tilted higher and higher toward his side.
He tried to calculate the kinematics of having Joule and Izzy's extra weight slamming him against his door. The momentum of it was horrible. But the weight of the car compared to their own weight shouldn't be enough.
The thought cut off as the car bounced back to its original horizontal orientation and the breath he was holding whooshed out suddenly. Maybe from relief. Maybe from the added weight of Joule and Izzy scrambling back to the other side.
“Seat belts!” his sister snapped, though she was the only one who seemed to be able to buckle hers.
He and Izzy were completely unable to get the ancient silver tabs into the slots.
“Here,” Joule yelled, snapping Izzy into place and reaching across to try to help her brother. But as he felt her hands grab the webbing of the strap, Cage turned around, making her job nearly impossible.
The wind whipped through the car and stole his voice the first time he yelled it. So no one heard.
He cranked himself back down into his seat, his heart pounding from what he’d seen. There was likely nothing they could do, but he would try. And Sarah would try. And they would all hold their breath and see if it worked.
Leaning forward, he ripped the seatbelt from Joule's hand. He was not going to be buckled in. It simply wasn't going to happen.
He tapped at Sarah’s shoulder far too harshly for it to actually be the tap that he had intended.
“Sarah! You have to go faster!”
“What?” she yelled back to him, barely turning her head.
How had she not heard?
He tried again. “You have to go faster. It's right behind us.”
23
Joule’s fingers dug into whatever she could hold onto. It wasn’t much. The door handle offered her left hand some stability and the edge of the seat gave her something to smush.
Those were the only two things that had any effect.
There was nothing she could do about the car rocking as it sped along, trying to outrace the monster. Nothing she could do about her hair getting pulled and twisted one way or the other. Nothing she could do about the roar in her head and on the ground behind them.
Her grip was tight and her muscles tense in hopes of not slamming into Izzy or Cage as Sarah took the sharp turns. But there was every possibility she was just hanging on to hang on. They were all petrified of the noise and gray bearing down upon them.
At least Sarah had something to do—operating the steering wheel, taking her aggression out by mashing her foot into the gas or the brakes. Joule could only hang on and deal.
The car bounced with a pothole, or maybe Sarah had run over a piece of someone’s house that had already been ripped away… Joule’s eyes bounced closed with the movement and, for a moment, she just listened. It did sound somewhat like a train. The roar was akin to white noise, a coffee grinder, and a train all spun together as the beast crept up behind her. The heavy sound took over until she couldn't hear anything else—even the pounding of her own heart or the words her brother, a mere two feet away, was yelling at her.
As she turned her head, feeling as though she moved in slow motion, Joule could only see Cage's mouth moving. But somehow she still made out the words.
“It's too close!”
She watched as Izzy turned and looked out the back window once again. Joule could see her friend’s eyes widen at the sight.
It was stupid, she didn’t need to see it, but Joule automatically turned to look too.
Unlike her brother, she didn't yell. Instead, she reached forward and smacked the back of
Sarah’s seat, getting her attention the only way she could guarantee. Leaning forward, she hollered out. “It's too close, Sarah!”
“I can't go any faster,” her friend yelled back, her voice breaking with stress or fear.
The conversation was difficult. Their faces had to be close to even hear each other as their voices were ripped away by the high winds whipping through the car. Joule ducked suddenly as a piece of trash flew in her window, slapped across her face and Izzy’s and then hit Cage in the chest before it flew out the other side.
She ducked again as the second piece came through—surely that was a telltale sign that they were far too close to the tornado itself. Letting go of her death grip on the door handle for just a moment, Joule pushed the button raising her window. It was Izzy who reached out slapping at her hand. “You can't close it.”
“No.” Joule shook her head, “Not all the way. I'm trying to narrow the gap.”
As she watched, Cage’s window started to rise too. She’d left about five inches of space, hoping that was enough to keep the windows from shattering outward—or inward. Hopefully it was also enough to keep the larger pieces of trash from coming in and hitting them again.
“I can't go any faster!” Sarah cried again as she whipped her head to the side. Another piece of something had come barreling into the car. Sarah jerked and the car reacted as she tried not to get hit.
This one didn’t go right out the other window but fluttered in its own whirlwind. Deveron jerked back before recognizing that it was safe, even if it shouldn't be here. And they all paid too much attention to the plastic bag as it settled in the footwell.
“Can we turn?” Cage yelled, leaning forward, his head whipping back and forth as he looked behind them and then out the front window.
Deveron had tried to pull out his phone, presumably to pull up a map, but the car jerking back and forth had made him drop the device several times. Joule didn't even try.
“I don't know!” Sarah yelled. “Anyone?”
But if they'd driven this far before, Joule didn't remember. They'd certainly come out on some meandering afternoons, just checking out the roads and the scenery, but she didn't remember this one specifically. Joule had no idea even which direction they were heading. The sky was dark purple now, and they’d taken several too-fast turns.
There had to be a crossroad, though. If they kept going, they should come to an intersection with a flashing red light. It was an Alabama law or something.
What she wouldn’t give for the familiarity of a Dollar General store perched on a corner. But she didn’t see any.
The twister got closer and closer behind them until the wind was strong enough to make the car rock. Joule wasn't sure if the answer was to keep driving, or run the car nose down into the ditch and hope the tornado skipped over them.
She glanced out the back window again and felt her heart kick higher than she’d known was possible. She was going to explode in a few moments if she kept breathing at this rate.
The funnel behind them was huge. It had to be an F4, she thought—but her brain was racing at too high a speed to make any reasonable decisions right now.
“Here!” Deveron yelled, his finger pointing outward and almost bumping into the windshield because he was leaning so far forward. “Turn here!”
In the darkness, none of them had noticed the intersection before it was upon them. There was no flashing red light, and Joule was horrified to realize that the cables that had once held the traffic signal box were snapping in the wind. The light itself was nowhere to be seen, probably picked up and flung far away already.
On her right, she caught a movement. She couldn’t have heard it—she couldn’t hear anything. A large truck raced through the intersection in front of them as Sarah slammed her brakes. The truck’s mudflaps slapped in the high wind and it made no effort to stop.
Joule couldn't fault the driver, though, as Sarah once again jammed the gas and cranked the wheel in a hard left. There was no light anymore, and the only evidence she could see that there had once been orderly traffic was a green road sign, twisted and bent at the base, now lying flat against the ground.
Whoever was in the truck had likely spotted the tornado and missed seeing Sarah’s little blue car. But Sarah took advantage and tucked in behind the larger vehicle now, maybe stealing the drag wind and using it to their advantage. Joule wondered if it would make them faster or just save on gas… a truly absurd thought for a life-and-death moment.
But as she pondered the physics of it, she breathed easier for a moment.
Cage had turned around, watching behind them again as they veered. “Is the Twister still headed on its track?”
Joule turned and looked, her relief flooding her system and maybe the whole car. It was no longer chasing them, but running along the perpendicular road they’d just been on. She watched for a few more seconds, grateful that they'd managed to get out of the chase.
“Oh, thank God.” She breathed out the words, unable to swear or come up with anything snarky to throw into it.
But then, as she watched rapt out the back window, the raging gray funnel stalled.
Was it dying? she wondered. That would be wonderful. Just let it stop, hover for a moment, and then quit.
It could do that. But it didn't. Instead, the stall was only momentary. The noise softened for just a few seconds before it began to rage again, the volume picking up as it widened before her terrified eyes.
Joule saw it turn, now moving off the road and coming directly for them. A small farmhouse sat in its path and, as Joule watched, the home exploded. Ripped shingles, cracked lumber, and broken appliances were sucked upward and scattered to the sky like an angry offering.
She didn't even have a chance to scream as the two-by-four came flying toward the back window.
24
Cage felt the car shudder as he grabbed for Izzy trying to shove her out of the way of the flying debris. Joule tried to duck toward the footwell, but she was thwarted by the seat belt. He watched as it locked her into place with the sudden movement.
Thankfully, Izzy was just held by a lap belt. As the two-by-four split the window directly behind her head, she at least managed to slam her torso forward. Cage and Joule, instantly realizing their predicament, threw themselves toward the sides of the car. He slammed up against the side with no belt to hold him back. For a split second, he thought the car door would fly open from the hit and he would roll across the street as Sarah and everyone else drove on.
But it didn’t happen.
Reality was bad enough. The end of the two-by-four—splintered and jagged—swept through the space their heads had just occupied. The pristine shade of the wood let them know that it had been ripped very recently from the center of a house, untouched for who knew how long until now.
The piece swept through the space in the back seat before clunking against the trunk and disappearing. He would have believed he’d imagined it if not for the spray of window glass that coated his jacket. He’d thought the window was designed to crack but not shatter… the wood must have hit with an incredibly high speed to have peppered the entire back seat in pebbles of safety glass.
Sarah was still screaming at the noise, and even as Joule and Cage fought to sit upright and assess the damage, the car weaved back and forth. Sarah was fighting to keep the small SUV on the road.
“We’re okay!” he yelled, hoping to calm her down even though he didn’t quite know that they were.
He and Joule looked at each other and both shrugged frantically. His sister was okay, and if he was injured, he hadn’t figured out where yet. But as he looked back, squinting against the high wind and grainy feel of the air, he realized they were in more trouble than just two-by-fours shattering the window.
“You can't outrun it!” he yelled again as Sarah twisted the wheel first one way then the other, trying to steady the car on the road. The whole thing bumped as one of the wheels bounced off the shoulder and grabbed at t
he gravel on the edge for a moment. When Sarah turned the other way, they bumped again, hitting the curb.
Cage suffered a brief bout of fear that the bump would be enough to make them airborne and let the tornado lift them. But the small car slammed back to the road, rocking on old shocks, as Sarah once again screamed, unable to control the vehicle.
Having overcorrected for the last mistake, she had them aimed across the road to the ditch on the other side. There was nothing she could do now, except hold the wheel steady and pray.
Out the front window, Cage watched the truck in front of them manage to stay between the lines, but it disappeared into the distance as Sarah braced against the steering wheel.
He watched everyone in the car tense as the car pitched over the side of the road and nose down into the ditch.
It felt as if they fell forever. Time stretched out as the wheels bumped over ruts and rocks and roots. The only one not buckled in, Cage slammed into the back of Dev’s sear. As the car twisted, he scrambled, grabbing for whatever he could. He held the door handle for a moment, until a bump jerked the handle out of his grip. He flailed, reaching out again, bracing against the side or the ceiling and trying desperately to minimize his impact.
He waited with breath held for the vehicle to flip, but it stayed upright as it slammed nose-down into the ditch. Cage pitched forward, bouncing against the back of the seat in front of him and sliding into the footwell as he watched everyone else get yanked back by their belts. In his peripheral vision, he saw Izzy bend fully forward and then slam backwards, only to fly forward again.
Cage reached out to grab her but realized his own folly as soon as he tried. There was no holding on to anyone or anything in the middle of a car accident. Behind him, the noise grew even louder. And he wasn't sure how, but he managed to distinguish the engine from the surrounding noise of the storm. The car buried its nose in the dirt in a grinding halt and a puff of smoke. It was dead.
But they weren't. Not yet.
Though Cage couldn't see anything behind him with the back window aimed directly upward, he saw the five of them stuck in the car, the others all hanging from their seat belts.
The Tempest Page 10
