Ashes and Bone

by Stacy Green

  “Nick’s on his way here, racing the storm.”

  Beneath the panic spots, Dani’s porcelain skin paled. Jaymee secretly envied her fair complexion and strawberry blond hair, its brightness a perfect match for Dani’s sometimes larger-than-life personality.

  “The weatherman thinks it’s losing some steam, but it’s still capable of major damage.” Dani’s trembling words came almost as fast as the speed of sound. Jaymee was mostly used to her northern accent, but Dani was still hard to understand when she got excited. “And Jaymee, when I pulled up, the National Weather Service reported a small tornado off Highway 84 near Fayette.”

  Jaymee’s knees went weak. “Nick always takes that route.”

  2

  Thunder boomed louder now, its force rattling the pictures on the walls. Then the wind attacked, a steady whoosh in the trees. She and Dani stood at the northwest window, watching as the live oak’s moss-covered limbs gracefully stretched, as though the old tree were greeting its dancing partner. The dance turned sinister. The whoosh flashed into a guttural groan, and the oak’s limbs flexed into a nearly impossible twist. A second later, the smallest limb ripped off and careened out of sight.

  Mutt’s rapid fire barking brought Jaymee and Dani out onto the porch. The sight left Jaymee breathless and terrified. The distant wall of clouds she’d noticed less than half an hour ago was closing fast. Instead of normal thundercloud, the derecho consisted of three shelf-like layers, an ugly mixture of dark green and gray, each layer darker than the next. The bottom shelf was colored sooty black, like a pair of shoes dragged through a fireplace. Behind the clouds, she saw strikes of lightning, angry and fast. The wall stretched across the entire northern horizon, and as the women stood paralyzed, the wind doubled its velocity.

  “Shit.” Jaymee held tightly to the railing to brace against the wind, the weather radio tucked underneath her arm. The air smelled of dust and earth. “Nick said it wasn’t raining. He still had visibility.” The storm seemed to swell, mocking her.

  “I’m sure he’s fine.” Dani spoke loudly over nature’s anger. “I was going to go home, but I’m too chickenshit. It was all I could do to drive here.”

  “Ironwood is northeast of town.” Jaymee tried to focus on comforting her friend. She hated storms. Always had. And living in the trailer park had only intensified that fear. The clouds closed in, wrapping around the heart of town, contorted and menacing. “This looks like it’s moving southwest. Maybe it’s not big enough to do much to the plantations. Where’s Cage?”

  “Working. He was headed into the station. And I can’t protect the house from a storm.” Dani added the last sentence in a small voice, as though reassuring herself she wasn’t doing Ironwood an injustice.

  Jaymee switched the radio back on, trying to swallow her building panic.

  “The National Weather Service has issued a warning for the cities of Roselea and Natchez. The windstorm is producing gusts up to ninety miles an hour. All Adams County residents need to take cover immediately.”

  “Oh God!” Dani’s voice rose to a shrill scream. “That thing is going to swallow everything in its path.”

  A weather siren started screeching, followed by a car alarm. Panic fanned its way through Jaymee. Nick drove an economy-sized car. Good for gas mileage, he always said. Especially on his sojourns to visit her.

  A vision of his helpless, little car being sucked into the eye of the approaching colossus flashed in her head. Jaymee bit the inside of her mouth. The pain gave her focus. “I’ve got to call Nick. Mutt, come on.”

  The dog obeyed her harsh voice, and they hurried into the house just as another blast of wind rushed by.

  “He’s not answering.” She felt frozen, watching Dani rifle through her kitchen for flashlights. All at once, as though God himself had flipped a switch, the remaining murky daylight evaporated, draping the house in gloomy gray. Mutt’s barking turned frantic, and he raced to the tall windows on the side of the house. Jaymee and Dani followed. Black and swelled with power, the storm enveloped Roselea as if the town were no more than a speck that needed to be flicked away. Jaymee hurriedly turned on the light.

  “I don’t see any funnels,” Dani said.

  “Derechos make downbursts,” Jaymee said. “Straight-line winds. They can be just as bad. Jesus Christ, Nick’s out there.” She moved toward the door, but her steps stalled. What could she do? She couldn’t fight the weather. She couldn’t protect Nick any more than Dani could protect Ironwood.

  Another loud crack, this time sounding as though a giant had slammed the house with its mammoth hammer. The live oak’s largest waving branch snapped and flew down the drive, skidding to a stop against the base of the magnolia tree. The noise of the wind pitched to an animalistic growl, eager to devour its prey.

  “We’ve got to get to the basement.” Dani’s fingernails dug into Jaymee’s flesh as she pulled her away from the glass. With winds this high, the house’s windows could become murder weapons. Feet weighted down with concrete blocks of fear, Jaymee followed Dani into the kitchen.

  “Flashlight in the bottom drawer. Candles and matches too.” A hollow pit grew in her stomach. She’d been hateful to Nick over the phone. Hadn’t been able to tell him she loved him.

  He knew, though. Just as he knew she was unhappy with him, he knew she loved him enough to put up with it. Right?

  Dani’s phone rang. She put it on speaker. “Cage, I’m at Magnolia. We’re heading to the basement. Where are you?”

  “At the station, hunkering down. You guys all right?”

  “Nick’s out there,” Jaymee said. “He’s heading in from Jackson. I talked to him forty minutes ago, and the storm was bad then.”

  A beat of silence and then a close, angry smack of thunder followed by more wind, the giant’s roar of hot breath and wheezing lungs determined to blow the house down.

  “You can’t help him now,” Cage said. “Get downstairs, and stay off the phone. Dad always said lightning could come in on those things. I don’t know about cells, but don’t take the risk.”

  Dani ended the call just as another hard burst of wind howled and beat at the house. Glass shattered upstairs. The kitchen light vanished, along with the digital displays of the microwave and the stove.

  “Mutt!” Jaymee screamed. “Come on!”

  He rushed between them, already on the way to the basement door.

  “Turn on the flashlight.” Jaymee grabbed Dani’s hand, threw open the basement door, and they followed Mutt.

  The basement was more of a cellar, original to the house and still full of things Jaymee didn’t want to deal with. Her life had changed forever in this basement, and while she’d come to terms with most of it, the musty, earthen odor made her feel as though she were back in that terrible time.

  Grabbing Mutt’s collar, she led them underneath the steps. The women dropped to their knees, and Mutt snuggled in front of them. Still clutching Dani’s clammy hand, she wrapped her free arm around Mutt and buried her face in his fur.

  “He’ll be okay,” she whispered. “He has to.”

  Groans and bangs and more glass breaking, accompanied by the steam engine howl of the wind, surrounded them. Jaymee had faced death before, but she’d been able to reason with her attacker, give herself a fighting chance. Now, she and everyone she loved were at the mercy of Mother Nature.

  Shaking beside her, Dani squeezed her hand. “He will be. As soon as this eases, we’ll find him.”

  Jaymee angled the light at her friend. “Cage will be pissed at us for taking off.”

  Dani shrugged. “He’ll also be swamped with emergencies. And he’ll be so glad we’re okay he’ll get over it fast.” She held out her glowing phone. “Let’s see how long this thing takes to pass.”

  Another gust of wind rattled the house to its foundation. Mutt whimpered and pressed himself against Jaymee.

  “Of course,” Dani laughed weakly, “that’s if we have a vehicle left after this.”

 
* * *

  Six minutes later, the sound of the wind and thunder had faded into the distance, ebbing away as the storm moved south. Jaymee peeked around the stairs and saw weak light streaming from beneath the door.

  “Be careful,” Dani said. “I’m texting Cage to let him know we’re all right. Watch out for glass.”

  Jaymee slowly opened the door. Battered-looking daylight streamed in the kitchen window. Cautiously, the two women crept through the lower level. In the living room, Jaymee saw a broken window and an overturned chair, the fabric torn. Outside, the oak had lost another limb, and the rosebushes were stripped of their leaves. Dialing Nick’s number again, she hurried upstairs, terrified of what she’d find.

  She saw the window in the master bedroom had shattered, the shards all over the floor. Any other time, Jaymee would mourn the loss of the original window. The four-poster bed was pushed against the bureau, both antiques. Most of the items Jaymee had on top of the dresser lay on the floor, some in pieces. She barely registered the damage. Nick still wasn’t answering his phone.

  “I can fix that,” Dani said, pointing to the gouge on the bureau and the marks the bed had left on the floor. She glanced at Jaymee. “Cage texted back. They’re okay at the station but already getting calls. He said to keep trying Nick.”

  The other bedroom on that side of the house, the one she’d readied for guests, was in a similar condition as the master. Jaymee barely heard Dani’s promises that she could salvage everything.

  Jayme kept hitting redial. Every unanswered ring pulsed in her head.

  “Nick’s phone is going to voicemail,” Jaymee said. “It’s not even ringing anymore.”

  “Let’s go. If my truck’s not in a tree, I’ll drive.”

  They hurried outside with Mutt slinking along at their heels. Dani’s small Chevy pickup looked undamaged, except for the oak branch now lying in the bed. Jaymee noticed limbs down all over the yard and the planters on the porch scattered, but she didn’t even care at this point. All she could think of was Nick.

  Mutt clambered into the backseat, and Dani headed down Magnolia’s drive, the truck easily rolling over the downed limbs. Jaymee gazed up at the house’s roof and took a moment to thank God it was still intact.

  Neither woman spoke as Dani drove through town. The storm hadn’t produced rain, making the air thick with dust and dirt and smelling of ripe earth, but damage was evident. Homeowners were already outside, checking on neighbors and picking up the pieces. Jaymee stared out the window, crushing panic working its way through her weary body. She couldn’t muster the emotion to feel sorry for any of the destruction she saw. All she could think about was Nick. She kept calling, his voicemail kept answering. “Hi, this is Nick. Sorry I missed your call, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” That damned message will be forever ingrained in my head.

  Tears stung Jaymee’s eyes at the sight of Annabelle’s Bed and Breakfast. Nick had stayed in the restored Victorian when he and Jaymee fell in love, and now the house’s majestic tower was demolished, its remains scattered around the yard, the original pieces lost forever.

  Please let him be all right.

  She scrubbed at the dripping tears. Other houses had roof damage, electrical wires were down, one light pole snapped cleanly in half.

  How could a tiny car survive that sort of power?

  Hands numb and shaking, Jaymee dialed Nick’s number again.

  He still didn’t answer.

  Usually Highway 84, the main route from Roselea to Jackson, teemed with traffic. But today it was eerily quiet, with only the occasional passing car. No one wanted to drive south toward the storm.

  Ahead, a car sat motionless. Recognition and then terror struck Jaymee’s brain and worked its way out of her mouth in a scream.

  Nick’s car sat on the southbound side of the road, skid marks showing its progression across the pavement. A massive dent in its center, the driver’s side door hung open a couple of inches at an odd angle, like something had tried to rip it away.

  Jaymee fell out of the truck before Dani fully stopped. Now that the roar of the storm had passed, the stillness of the air pierced her eardrums. No birds chirped in the nearby patch of woods. Even the normally relentless mockingbirds were silent. The slap of her shoes on the smooth, faded pavement and her own panting breaths were the only sounds Jaymee heard. Darting across the road took only seconds, but it seemed longer, enough for the worst to take root in her mind and blossom into a nightmare.

  She skidded to a halt at the twisted driver’s door. Catching her breath, she looked inside. Then around to the other side of the car, on the shoulder near the trees. Acid bubbling in her stomach, she dropped to her knees and checked beneath the vehicle.

  “He’s not here.”

  “What?” Panting, Dani reached her side, phone pressed against her ear. “Cage is sending an ambulance.” She looked into the car and then at Jaymee. “Where is he?”

  Jaymee peered into the backseat. She saw Nick’s suitcase.

  “He’s not in the car, Cage,” Dani said. “No, there’s no blood that I can see. The air bag deployed. His suitcase is here though, and I can see the keys still in the ignition.”

  Jaymee reached for the twisted door, but Dani caught her arm. “Cage said not to touch anything. He’s on his way.”

  3

  Jaymee shook her head. Nothing made sense. The airbag hung limply; Nick had to be in some amount of pain from the airbag if not injured. If he’d walked away, he’d have likely gone into town, which meant they would have seen him on the highway. Maybe a Good Samaritan had picked him up.

  She called the hospital, hoping to hear Nick had been admitted and his cellphone gone missing. A brisk-sounding nurse answered.

  “I’m looking for my boyfriend.” Jaymee blurted out the words. “He was in a wreck outside of town coming from Jackson. His name is Nick Samuels.”

  “I can’t give out that information.”

  A shot of pain pierced Jaymee’s head. She gritted her teeth. “I know you’re not supposed to, but please make an exception. I’m desperate.”

  “You aren’t next of kin. It’s against privacy laws. I’m sorry.”

  Jaymee ended the call before she laid into the woman who was just doing her job. “Where is he?” She paced around the car, repeatedly calling Nick. “His phone is still going straight to voicemail.”

  A sick worry snaked its way through her. The wind had been strong enough to break tree limbs and snap a light pole in half. What if it had simply carried Nick away?

  “But shouldn’t there be some sort of blood?” Jaymee spoke to the car, as if it might answer.

  Dani stood at the edge of the road staring into the barren rice field. “I don’t see any signs of footprints this way,” she said. “But you can tell the wind came through here—see the path?”

  Cutting through the field was a broad trail, as if someone had come through with a massively wide rake. The path headed towards town. Jaymee walked to the other side of the tree-lined road that led into a large, swampy area. “I don’t see anything here either. But the grass is lying down. And I’m not a tracker.”

  “Maybe he got a ride,” Dani said. “Got out of the car relatively uninjured, and someone picked him up.”

  “Then why hasn’t he called? And why wouldn’t he take his stuff?” Jaymee finally spit out the words. “What if the wind carried him away?”

  “Let’s be rational,” Dani said. “The wind didn’t use the door handle. He did.”

  “But he wrecked,” Jaymee said. “The air bag deploys, he’s stunned. Maybe his ribs are hurt. He opens the car, thinking to get help or even take shelter in the ditch. And then the wind…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Her throat burned.

  Dani stared into the field. Her hands tangled in her light hair, pulling it away from her face as she turned in a circle. Her slow speech bugged Jaymee. It meant her friend was just as uncertain as she was, and that wasn’t Dani. She made snap decisions
and stuck to them. Right now, she was obviously off kilter, and her confusion only made Jaymee feel more helpless.

  “God, I just don’t know,” Dani said. “I can’t even tell which direction it could have taken him.”

  “It doesn’t matter if it did.” An unbearable hollowness—a gaping void Jaymee would never be able to fill—replaced her panic. “He’s dead.”

  “Nick’s a smart guy. If he were in the eye of the storm, no matter how stunned he was, I don’t think he would have gotten out of that car. I mean, either way, he’s in trouble. But getting out in that wind would be really stupid when there’s no other shelter around. He got out after the storm.”

  “Then where is he?” Jaymee’s shrill voice hurt her own ears. “And where the hell is Cage?”

  Flashing cherry lights answered that question. Cage pulled up in an Adams County Cruiser with Captain Gina Barnes riding shotgun. A detective now, he’d cut his shaggy hair and had a clean-shaven face. Any other day, Jaymee would call him Keystone and watch him steam. Dani rushed toward him, throwing her arms around his tall frame. He kissed the top of her head. A tremor of pain rippled through Jaymee. Where is Nick?

  Gina approached her, grim faced. Short and strong with an imposing presence and downplayed features, she always struck Jaymee as the type of woman who never smiled unless she was around friends. “You didn’t touch anything, did you?”

  “No. But his stuff is there. He wouldn’t go off and leave it, and he wouldn’t ignore my calls. I think he wrecked, tried to get out, and the wind…”

  Gina walked along the road following the skid marks. “We’ll try to get a group of volunteers to search, but eighty-mile-an-hour winds probably wouldn’t blow someone away. He’d have to be facing it head on or from the back for a significant amount of time, and even then, I’m not sure it could pick him up and carry him any real distance. But I won’t completely write off the possibility.”

  Jaymee tried to respond, but her mouth refused to work. She held up her hands, shook her head. Dani stood next to her, slipping an arm around her shoulders.