Page 60 of Whirlwind

“This is it!” I reply.

Finley snaps another picture then drops the camera so it hangs around her neck. We share a glance, a silent conversation passing between us. She feels it, too—this is going to work.

I jiggle the rocket and have Finley check one more time that it’s all connected, then I tell her to step back. “I’m going to launch.”

“I’m recording it,” she says, holding up her camera again.

I focus on the nearing tornado. It’s got to be only a quarter of a mile away now and moving closer and closer by the second. Dust and rain pelt my skin as I say a prayer to Mother Nature that she’ll continue to cooperate.

When the tornado is a little more than eight hundred feet away, I know it’s time. We have to launch into the inflow band now, then we’ll drive a bit further up so the eye of the tornado will pass right over us and we can collect more data with the subsonic sensors.

“Launching in five seconds. Stand back.” Finley does as I ask, and after one last nod to her, I close the hatch and count down. At zero, I hit the launch button and hear the rocket take off, saying another prayer that it works. After another second, I get out of the vehicle and join Finley outside. She has her phone pointed up at the inflow band, and her entire face is lit up as she keeps her feet planted on the ground, wind battering her curvy body.

“I think you did it!” she cries joyfully.

I look up and don’t see the rocket, but the clouds are dark and rotating, and the rain has started to come down harder and more violently.

That’s a good sign.

“Holy fuck,” I say.

“I saw it go up, Ryker. I think it took.”

At that exact moment, my phone goes off, and I see a message from the TT group chat. I open it to a message from Hawk.

HAWK: Successful launch. Already getting readings!!!!

I share the news with Finley, and she lets out a loud cheer before launching herself at me. I laugh and spin her, the wind gusting around us and water pelting our skin as we laugh. WhenI set her on her feet, I bring my hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

If we had time, I would lean down and press my lips against hers, but we need to get into Thor—our work isn’t done yet.

Chapter twenty-two

Finley

The last time atornado came barreling at me, Ryker was on top of me, and I was trying to avoid gulping down muddy ditch water while praying we’d survive. Now, safely strapped inside Thor, the fear is different. The whirling gusts slam debris against the armored vehicle, and the vortex’s roar fills the air, but this time, I feel strangely calm as we head the short distance into its direct path—intentionally, this time.

“I still can’t believe Joey volunteered to miss this,” I yell over the noise as Ryker hits the gas.

“Who knows? Maybe we’ll do this again later tonight. He can come then.”

“One not good enough for you, Tornado Daddy?”

He smirks as he brakes, coming to an abrupt stop right where the tornado is going to pass over us. “You know me, Ms. Buckley. I always want more.”

He leans forward as he says it, and I think he’s going to kiss me, but a chunk of debris hitting the car stops him. The vehicle shakes, and the sky outside turns a darker gray, nearly black, as the outer edge of the tornado engulfs us.

“Get the subsonic sensor,” Ryker says so calmly you’d think we were about to get hit with a little airplane turbulence instead of a massive wedge tornado that could easily kill us. I love it, though—I love that he’s no longer treating me like glass but as his equal, like he did before everything happened between us.

Ryker turns his attention to buttons on the front dash while I pull the sensor from a box near my feet. Thor starts to make a grinding noise and shakes before ceasing.

“Spikes are in the ground, and windows are secure,” he says as I place the sensor between us.

“Sensor is good.” I tap it gently. Unlike a lot of other sensors that need to be outside, this one will pick up data from inside the vehicle. Makes things a lot easier and not as dangerous. And unlike the sensor in the rocket, this can only pick up data from the base of the tornado.

“Debris coming from our left—brace, Finley.”

Something hits the car, and I grab the “oh shit” handle with one hand and clutch my harness with the other. My entire body jolts, but Thor hardly moves. The roaring sound of a train is louder than I’ve ever experienced, and my ears popping makes it almost impossible to hear Ryker’s next words.

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