Page 13 of Whirlwind

Just making sure you don’t fall off the bull.

EZRA

Never.

I pocket my phone and crouch low to the ground so I can get a better look up. Much of studying storms comes from looking at doppler and forecasts, but nothing compares to this, to being in the field and looking Mother Nature directly in the eye. It’s exhilarating and everything I live for. What I’ll probably die for.

“That’s a massive mesocyclone!” Finley exclaims as she comes up beside me with her camera around her neck, snapping a photo as she says it.

My gaze tracks to the eye of the storm only a few miles from us, standing to my full height and swaying a bit as wind gusts unpredictably and the storm draws air inward. “It has a massive updraft base,” I comment. “Can you feel the wind blowing into the supercell?”

She grins wide as she tucks hair behind her ear that keeps whipping in front of her face. “I can feel it.” She laughs. “Remind me to bring a hair tie next time.”

The unprofessional side of me wants to say no. I like watching her chestnut-colored locks blowing in the wind around her soft features. But of course I don’t say that—instead, I smile back at her before I walk to the center of the road.

I study the mesocyclone that’s closer to us now. “Finley, it’s about to happen. Look at the spin on the backside.”

I hear the click of her camera snapping before she sidles up to me. “That’s a lot of spin, don’t you think? It’s tightening, too.”

Her observation again confirms that I didn’t make a mistake in choosing her for the chase this weekend. Finley knows storms. She’s not only book smart, but she’s also got kick-ass spotting and observational skills that I believe she acquired from photographing and chasing on her own—either that, or she was born to chase like I was. Nevertheless, she’s perfect for this job.

The wind dies down for a moment and things go quiet—the calm before the storm that happens when the moist air that fuels the storm is pulled in. In another moment, the wind gusts again, and I point to the clouds. “It’s trying!”

“Ryker!” Finley cries, her hand gripping my bicep as her eyes sparkle with pure happiness. “It’s going to do it! We’re going to get a tornado.”

We both let out a happy laugh as lightning splits the sky, briefly illuminating the darkened storm clouds. Light rain begins to fall, and my eyes flick to the soybean plants bending in the open fields, their leaves dancing in the growing wind. My pulse quickens, and my body freezes as I study the direction ofthe wind and the swirling funnel that appears closer to us than it was before. The inflow winds near the storm’s updraft base have become louder and more intense, pulling warm, moist air into the heart of the storm, feeding its rotation.

Fuck me. This storm is about to explode, and it’s unstable. It’s also nearly on top of us now. “Get in the car, Finley.”

I hear her laugh, and I know she hasn’t heard me. She’s too enraptured by what she’s seeing and the adrenaline of it all. “It’s amazing, Ryker! This storm is moving fast—I’ve never seen anything like this in person.”

I place my hand over hers, the one that’s still gripping my bicep to get her attention. Her brilliant smile falls when she sees the seriousness on my face. “Get in the car! We need to back up and get further out.”

I tilt my head back up to the clouds. Finley is correct—the storm is moving fast. Too fast. I thought we were far enough out that we could observe and be safe, but I’ve put us right in harm’s way. How the fuck did I let this happen?

You know how this happened. You let your dick take the lead, you prick.

I push away the thoughts. “Come on, we need to move now!”

Without another word, both of us head to her car as fast as we can. Thankfully, she’s left the engine on like she’s been prepped to do in a live chase. More thunder booms overhead, and the sky is so dark someone would think it was almost night.

I have the protective urge to say I’ll drive, but I told her she could take the wheel, and this is her car. I don’t want to take it back and make her think that I am a misogynistic ass. I know I can trust her, even though we’ve never chased together before.

Once we’re inside, Finley almost throws her camera on the floor of the backseat before placing her hands on the wheel. The way she parked, my side is facing the storm. I look out my window to get a better view of the supercell, and my body goes cold.

“Shit, she’s fully condensing!” Panic mingles with the adrenaline-fueled excitement I can never suppress when it comes to tornadoes, no matter the danger. I grab my phone and see Ezra’s been trying to call. I start typing a text about our situation right as a powerful gust of wind shakes the car, stopping me.

“Fuck, Ryker, which way should I go?” Finley yells.

I study the cell and make a quick decision. “Go back the way we came, and step on it.”

“Oh my god, Ryker. The tornado is on the ground!”

The car wobbles again, and my gaze focuses on the beast that’s dropped—it has to be at least two hundred yards wide already. The black vortex kicks up debris as it rotates through the field, and I know we’re in trouble. “Go, Finley, go, go, go!”

“Okay!” she yells and steps on the gas. My body jerks as she turns the car around, gravel spitting from the tires and shocks springing as she whips us back in the direction we came. I turn my gaze to look at the tornado ripping to our left, inching closer to the road as its base gets larger. The debris field is also growing.

Shit. Shit. Shit.There’s no way this thing isn’t going to catch up to us.

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