Page 103 of Through the Storms
Britt snorted. “Grumpy’s inside, checking the satellites.”
“Grumpy?”
“Somebody pulled her tail, or she woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or maybe both.” Britt replaced the dipstick and slammed the hood.
“I heard that,” Oakley called from inside the van.
“Bat ears. I tell you she has bat ears,” Britt said in a loud whisper.
“I heard that, too.”
“See.” Britt gave Riley an exaggerated expression.
It was nice to hear the pair banter. Maybe it would help take her mind off things. Off Chloe. “Did you tell her what we missed?” Oakley called from inside the van.
“I’ll leave that for you,” Britt said. “I’m gonna grab some more coffee. You want anything?”
“Nope, I’m good,” Oakley said.
Riley walked to the passenger side of the van where Oakley sat with the door open. “What did we miss?”
“Tornado touched down at five twenty-one in a tiny town west of Oklahoma City.”
“This morning?”
“Yep.”
“Didn’t you say it’s rare?”
“It is.” Oakley finally looked up from the screen and scowled. “I should have been on top of it.”
“How?”
Oakley glanced at the computer mounted on the dash. “I normally study the weather in my room when we’re on high alert. Uh…but I didn’t last night.”
Judging by Oakley’s demeanor, Riley suspected there was more to the story, but Oakley didn’t offer any further explanation. “That’s scary thinking a tornado could rip through when people are sleeping.”
“Nighttime and early morning tornadoes can be the deadliest because people aren’t prepared for them and can’t see ’em.” Oakley hopped out of the van and squinted into the sun. She blinked several times and rubbed her eyes.
Standing closer to Oakley, Riley noticed the bags under Oakley’s eyes were nearly as dark as the ones under her own.
“Did you sleep okay?” Oakley asked, apparently noticing the same.
Riley shrugged. “I’ve had better night’s sleep.”
“Yeah, me too. Hey, you want to hear an interesting story about a morning tornado?”
It was obvious that Oakley wanted to change the subject. “Sure,” Riley said, also happy to move on from the conversation about their poor sleep.
“You’ve heard us talk about the biggest day in tornado history.”
“April 27, 2011.”
“Good student.” Oakley smiled. “On that day in Cordova, Alabama, an EF3 tornado hit around five in the morning, but here’s the kicker, another one came through, an EF4, and hit again at around four that evening.”
Riley’s eyes widened. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”
“Who’s shitting you?” Peggy’s voice called out.
