Page 14 of Whirlwind

“Debris!” Finley yells. My head whips from the storm to the front of the road where something that looks like fencing flies past us, almost hitting her car. My head follows it as it soars past Finley’s window, barely missing the rearview mirror.

My hands itch, and my foot presses down on an imaginary pedal. “Faster, Finley!”

She punches the gas while glancing at the storm as best she can. “Holy shit—it looks like it’s not moving!” she yells.

She’s right, and the fear in her voice only locks in what we both know: This twister is heading right toward us. If it was shifting laterally, that would be another thing—but it’s not.

My stomach rolls, and a part of my brain tries to figure out why I didn’t know this would happen. If Finley gets injured or dies, it’s completely on me. She may know storms, but I’vebeen doing this longer, and I’m the expert, the experienced one. I know better. Of course I’ve had close calls but not with one of my students in the vehicle with me or since the early days of my career.

“Push faster,” I attempt to say calmly. “Once we’re on the main road, we can hook—”

“It’s moving too fast!” she interrupts.

I don’t want to say she’s right, but she is. However, we don’t have another option. “Don’t look back—just drive.”

“Okay, okay, okay!” she chants as rain pounds harder against the windshield. She switches on the wipers, the blades swiping furiously to clear her view as she floors it, speeding like there’s no tomorrow.

When she comes to the main road and turns onto it, the wheels squeal against the pavement, and the smell of the rubber burning fills the car. I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. I’m sure it’s Ezra, but I don’t have time to pick up. His yelling through the phone isn’t going to change this situation we’re in.

A situation I’ll have to take a closer look at if we survive, because I was distracted by Finley. This storm should’ve been a textbook chase, one that maybe didn’t even set down a tornado—or at least not one this unstable. My brain is frantically trying to understand why it’s happening. It could’ve been a sudden change in wind shear or instability on the ground I didn’t see that caused the storm to shift direction. Yet none of that changes the fact that I was more focused on the way the wind blew Finley’s hair than our safety.

“We’re not going to outrun it!” she yells shakily, stating what I already know.

“I need you to listen to me, alright? We’re going to be fine.”

“Are you really going to lie to me right now?”

Despite the situation we’re in, I laugh. Finley laughs lightly, too, but it lasts for only a moment because a piece of debris hits the car, forcing her to swerve. She yelps in surprise, and I grab the wheel on instinct to keep it steady.

“You’ve got this,” I reassure her. “Breathe, and keep driving.” The freight-train noise of the tornado is getting louder, and the wind has gained enough speed that I’m surprised we’re still on the road.

I turn in my seat and look out the back window. It’s utterly dark behind us, and I think the fucking thing is rain wrapped now, hiding how massive it is—and how truly close it is to us as well.

“Ryker. Fuck, Ryker. We’re going to die, aren’t we?”

I turn back so she can hear me loud and clear. “We’re not going to die.” I press my eyelids together and think. “We’re not.”

She cries out again as more debris hits the car, and she swerves. I press my hands to the dash and bark out, “Take a right up at the stop sign.”

“Ryker!”

“Do it! Take a right. If we stay in this car, we’ll—”Die. But I don’t say the last word out loud. “Take a right!” I yell.

Finley nods, and I hold on as she takes a fast right like I told her to. The rubber of the tires is burning again, and the rain is now coming in sheets. Thank Christ there’s no hail.

“Now what?!”

“Stop!” The car comes to an abrupt halt, and I look into her panicked eyes. “I noticed a ditch when we were on our way here; we’re going to make a run for it.”

“You’re serious?” she balks. Her usually bright eyes are wide and terrified.

I cup her cheeks in my hands, feeling her clammy skin. “We have no other choice. Are you ready?”

After only a split second of indecision, she nods vigorously. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Our eyes remain locked for a second as the car rocks from a strong gust of wind and I try to convey my apology through my gaze. I wish I could shield her from this.

She nods, seeming to understand without words, and I know we can’t waste another second. I drop my hands and turn topush the door open as Finley mirrors my movement. It takes a few tries with the force of the gusts, but we both somehow manage to get out—probably thanks to sheer adrenaline.

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