Page 37 of Oklahoma Storms
Darkness spreads over the plains, rain clouds as far as the eye can see.
Snatching sweats and a T-shirt from my suitcase, I toss the towel on the edge of the bed and get dressed, then run outside.
The wind whips my hair so hard it lashes across my cheeks. My eyes water from the force, tears gathering on my bottom lashes. Hail is the size of golf balls, landing on windshields that crack from the force.
This is my fault. I told everyone to take the day off. We could have been tracking this supercell, and we could have given everyone enough time to get to safety.
“Oh my god.” I stumble back when the rain clears, lifting like a curtain for me to see the destruction heading in my direction.
It’s a massive cone tornado, spanning at least fifty yards wide. The black clouds swirl and twist; a demonic growl that only promises Hell whirls around me.
A warning to take cover as quickly as I can.
I glance down to see people running to the storm shelter, but a few don’t make it. They get caught in the vacuum of low pressure and are lifted from their feet, tossed in the air like useless debris.
People run to their cars, and I dash down the steps, hissing when I step on broken glass. “No! Don’t get in your cars! Don’t. Stop! Seek shelter!” They can’t hear me through the howling wind.
Their headlights cut through the darkness, the beams swallowed by the sardonic force coming right at us. People from inside the car scream when their car drags across the road. I cover my mouth in horror when they lift into the air.
The funnel swallows them, the headlights disappearing behind the swirling wall. As if the storm is picky with what it eats, the twirling mouth spits them back out, then slings them down the road.
The car is a crumbled-up piece of paper after it crashes against the pavement.
I slip as the wind becomes stronger and grip the rail I don’t trust. “Ah!” I grit through tight teeth, pulling myself up the stairs with all my strength.
Rain becomes sharp in this kind of weather, like mini knives trying to pierce the skin. I lift my arm to protect my eyes and dash to the room. The door rips from the hinges, and I duck, the corner slamming against my head.
A piercing pain echoes through my skull, and I fall to the ground, crawling to the tub—the safest place I know of for now, since there’s no time to get to the storm shelter.
Blood drips into my vision, and I do what I can to wipe it away, but I add to the stains on the carpet, becoming part of the motel’s history.
I pull myself across the floor, digging my nails in to grip the fibers. I fight against the wind trying to take me. When I’m close enough to the bathroom, I look over my shoulder to see the tornado in throwing-stone distance.
Bursting into the bathroom, I kick the door shut and throw myself into the tub. It’s silly, but I hold on to the silver faucet for support. The wind becomes harsher; the growls louder and more malicious.
I scream at the top of my lungs. I can’t even hear myself over the guttural roar of the storm. A loud creak of wood splintering has me looking up, witnessing the roof tearing off.
I’m left staring at a furious sky, the intense strength of the wind ripping the shower curtain from the rod.
My heart is pounding, my thoughts drifting to my team, to Ruka, to my parents, and Oklahoma.
There’s something about Oklahoma.
I’m not going to get the chance to say what I want to say to him. That I’m connected to him in a way that I don’t understand, and I want him to tell me why he doesn’t want me, why he keeps playing hot and cold with my hope.
The tub groans, and I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to see what will happen next. I’m too scared. A loud crack jostles the floor, followed by a moan within the walls.
When the tub tilts downward as the walls and floor separate, I grip the edges for dear life. The motel crumbles to useless pieces, the foundation caving in, the structure collapsing from the strength of the tornado.
One last snap of a beam and that’s all it takes for the tub to finally give way, free-falling to the ground. I hit so hard, my head snaps back, slamming against the unforgiving white-coated cast iron. My vision swims, my body is drowsy, and drops of rain pelt against my body, dinging against the tub. Before it all goes black.
I open my eyes and look up; the pieces of carpet float and dance through the air like feathers drifting in a breeze. Quiet surrounds me. The pitter-patter of water dripping is all I can hear.
Pressing one hand against the bottom of the tub, I hold onto the edge to lift myself up, needing to find a way out of the rubble. My vision sways, and I narrow my gaze, then rub my eyes to get a clearer sight.
Drywall, huge beams, pipes, and pieces of the roof fill the space. It’s dark with only bits of light pouring in through small holes.
Touching the back of my head, I wince when blood coats my fingers.
