Page 2 of Burn Point

“He is. Thanks!” She paused at the end of my little sidewalk and her furry buddy dropped into a proper sit, his attention solely on her. I rose and met her in the yard. We’d gotten into the habit of chatting during their walks, a way for her to make sure the sweet boy, Nelson, learned his manners. I still didn’t know her name, though.

“Nelson is doing such a good job,” I repeated and immediately cringed at sounding like a goober.

“It’s a great night for a walk,” I tried again. Social grace was not my thing when meeting new people.

“It is.” Her curls bobbed around her head as she looked up, “Although, it does feel like it’s going to storm. The evening just has that feel to it, you know?”

I nodded.

Nelson, obviously bored with sitting still, popped up and lunged after a butterfly. I patted my legs. “Come here, buddy.”

I bent and cupped his little snout, rubbing my face on his soft fur. “Who’s a good boy?”

“Make sure you have your weather app on tonight,” my nameless friend said while Nelson licked my nose. “We’re supposed to get storms later.”

I stood and looked around, then returned her smile.

“I will. You guys be safe too.”

I watched them walk away and made my way back to my porch, resuming my post. Now that Nelson’s mom had mentioned it, the evening did have an eerie quality to it. No birds were singing. A haze hung in the air. The hair on the back of my neck stood in warning.

Maybe she was right. Maybe I should make sure I had a flashlight somewhere.

It had been years since I’d been back in the sleepy town of Newman, since I’d spent my summers with my grandma, but I hadn’t forgotten how rapidly changing Georgia weather could be. And springtime in Georgia was chock full of pop-up thunderstorms.

My grandma’s voice played in my head, triggering old preteen memories of tornado drills. She had a habit of packing what she called a bug-out bag. She’d toss supplies into a bag and have it ready to go at a moment’s notice. Since her old house didn’t have a basement, we’d climb into the tub, and she’d tuck us in under a blanket or pillows. Thankfully, nothing had ever come of those drills, other than creating a scared girl.

This little place I was renting didn’t have a basement either. The similarities between her home and my rental were disconcerting, and what had brought me comfort suddenly felt ominous.

I shrugged off the lingering unease. Likely, there was nothing to this weird weather and I was just remembering old fears.

Four hours later, my phone alarm jolted me awake. I sat up on the couch, disoriented after falling asleep with the television on.

“What the hell?”

The wail of a distant siren, barely audible inside the house, sent my heart racing. I glanced at the TV where the meteorologist gestured animatedly at a radar with arrows pointing directly to my location.

“If you are in the Newman area, you need to take cover now!” His excited voice broke through the last of my sleepiness. “We have a confirmed tornado on the ground.”

Outside, the night was ablaze with flashes of lightning, coming one after another. Thunder rumbled and shook the walls.

Oh, shit.

I jumped from the couch and grabbed my laptop bag and cellphone, making a mad dash for the hallway bathroom.

I tossed my stuff into the tub, dove in after, and pulled the heavy “just-in-case” quilt I’d placed there over me as the lights went out.

Rain pounded hard on the roof, the sound intensified by the quiet of the house. My heart raced, blood pumping through my veins. Tucking my head between my arms, I curled into a ball and tried to catch my breath.

The rain grew more intense as the wind howled. Was it hailing now?

Glass shattered nearby, and I screeched, ducking deeper into the tub, pulling the quilt tighter around my shoulders. Something—wind, rain, something more?—battered the outside of my rented house. The terrible noise grew louder and louder and louder still, like a train barreling down on me. The pressure in the room rose, making my head hurt.

Fear gripped me as realization struck. Clenching the quilt in my fist, I buried my face and screamed, “Oh my God!”

I was in a tornado, and I was going to die.

A sudden cracking sound ripped through the room, the bathtub shuddering around me. I flinched and squeezed my eyes shut, curling into the smallest ball possible, and for the first time in a long time, I prayed.

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