Page 11 of Arrested By the Orc

In fact, most everyone’s phones are going off, in the cell and around the lobby. Isn’t it a bit early in the season for this to be happening already?

There’s a buzz of fear and movement all around me. I look out the windows and can see our windy day has upgraded. Already outside leaves and bits of trash fly in the wind.

“Holy shit a tornado. I hate it when this happens.”

“And it’s coming fast. Where are we going to shelter?”

“I can't believe this is happening today of all days.” The director of the food bank whines. She crosses her arms. “Talk about bad luck. I hope everyone's okay.” The charity run is instantly forgotten as everyone starts texting loved ones and making plans.

Bowen is already inside the jail cell again and behind me with his arm across my chest and his rough hand on my hip.

How did he move this fast?

His lips press against my ear. “I will keep you safe.”

I smile and pat his big green hand. It’s so cute how his Sheriff brain is wired for help and protection. This guy is definitely a keeper.

“Wow, this day is just getting crazier and crazier,” someone shouts.

“Ain’t that the truth?” I say as all of us exit the jail cell. “I thought I’d be spending the day making cakes and delivering them to special occasions, and instead I was arrested and now I’m about to ride out a tornado in town hall.”

“We need to shelter in the basement,” a man next to me shouts anxiously.

“There is no basement in this building,” a nearby security guard states.

My mind flashes to the nice public storm shelter that was recently built on our street near the bakery.

“We all need to go into a central location without windows. The most fortified, lowest location in this building.” Bowen looks at the mayor. “Where is that?”

She points at the emergency shelter plan posted on the wall.

Bowen puts his hand on my back and guides me as everyone in the lobby leaves to move together to the gathering spot.

R u okay? I text my sister.

No worries we’re all rushing into the storm shelter down the street. Where are you?

Townhall. Are mom and dad with you?

No, they went home awhile ago. But they have their own storm shelter so they’re good. I’m worried about the kids though because they’re at school. Stay safe.

I take a deep breath, You too.

I feel Bowen’s rough, comforting hand on my shoulder which helps. “I get worried every time I go through one of these storms,” I admit to him. “Tornadoes are a fact of life around here and I should be tougher about this, but I’ve heard terrible stories my whole life of the F5 tornado of ’54. So, I tend to stress, thinking this is ‘the one’ again.”

We make it to a room which looks like an old storage room.

“This is the designated storm shelter with no windows and the exact inside of the building,” the mayor announces. “Everyone get comfortable.”

The space becomes crowded quickly. Lights flicker and then the power goes out but it’s not entirely dark because of cell phone lights and a few emergency flashlights. Bowen never leaves my side, not that I want him to leave. He holds my hand.

“We have to get everybody inside.”

There are so many people that keep arriving from all floors and parts of the building we have to back up, and then back up again to let everybody inside. Soon I’m standing with my back to a wall in a crowded room.

The security guards help everyone get down the halls and into the room. Bowen leaves me for a moment to talk with the chief of security for the building and his other deputies. He returns. “Everyone's accounted for.”

The guard shuts the door. “Okay everyone, hunker down, it's going to be a long wait before we can safely exit.”

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