Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 59659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
“Back there,” I forced out.
“Let’s go. Grab a case of water and some snacks,” he said. “We don’t know how long we’ll down there.”
Nodding, I reached for the candy by the registers, shoveling some of it into a recyclable bag that we sold. Jerky, candy bars, nuts, all kinds of randomness went into it, and then I turned to look out of the window again. The hail was harder now, and the spiderweb break in the glass had gone from near the floor all the way up to the ceiling.
I jolted into movement, heading toward the back. Victor was there when I arrived, carrying a case of water and a case of beer.
A sound like an explosion rocked the building, and the lights went off. Cast in a sudden pitch blackness aside from the dim light coming from outside, I stumbled, falling into Victor’s arms as he pulled me into the backroom. Crashing glass followed, and I knew the window must have given way. A whooshing sound of wind blew into the building, and I raced to the door to the floor. Yanking it open, I ran down the steps, Victor following me and locking it behind him.
The rooms downstairs were reinforced with concrete, designed for the survival of several people for several days if needed. It had a small room with a commode in the back that connected to a backup septic tank. A generator was along another wall with hookups that could be used to power some electronics. A couple of propane camping stoves and cooking materials were on a shelf along with some canned beans and soups and a few stacks of bottled water.
It had been maintained once a quarter, a job that I enjoyed doing personally. It meant a day away from the customers to go and make sure that everything down there was in working order and functional. I usually loved being out with customers, but once in a while, it was nice to get away. It had been one of Dad’s biggest brags, that he had a shelter that several people could survive in for weeks comfortably. I had used it a couple of times for tornados that were in the area, but none had ever touched down close enough that anyone was down there long enough to use anything.
There was silence for a few minutes before Victor cleared his throat. I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t believe this was happening, especially with Victor trapped there with me.
“Look,” he said, “I’m sorry about Sarah. I just need you to know that she has always been like that. She’s nasty and rude, and she has zero legal standing about this store. I did everything on the up and up. She will be back out of my life, this time for good, very soon.”
“Whatever,” I said. “There’s a wind-up radio on that shelf behind you. Please turn it on so we can hear the news.”
Victor nodded solemnly and went to the shelf to get it. As he did, a crashing sound above us sounded like it was nearby. Maybe our store, but probably a block or so away. Whatever it had been, it was destroyed now. Victor wound the radio and moved the needle to the local pop station, where a voice was excitedly going over reports.
“…coming down Broad Street at a high rate of speed. Again, the mayor and police are asking people to shelter in place as best as possible. The governor has already declared a state of emergency for the region and has asked for reinforcements. There are no reported casualties, but the damage to property has already been tremendous. It is imperative that citizens stay in place. I repeat, stay in place.”
“It’s going to hit us,” I said.
Victor could only nod.
17
VICTOR
The icy chill of fear went down my spine as I listened to the radio report. The tornado was going to run right over us if it kept its course. And there was no reason to believe it wouldn’t.
I sat down heavily on a small bed that was set up against one wall. The whole day had been a whirlwind of terrible events from the second Sarah showed up. It seemed so ridiculous that I had been in my living room with Melanie, sharing a kiss where the heat was so strong that I thought we might tumble into bed right then and there earlier in the day. Now I was here in the storm shelter basement of the store, with Melanie angry because Sarah had yet again tried to ruin my life, awaiting a tornado that could absolutely ruin the investment that I had moved here for.
Melanie was leaning back in a corner of the ancient but comfortable-looking couch in the center of the room. She had a bottled water in her hand and cracked it open. After taking a big sip, she spun the top back on the bottle and stared directly at me. I met her gaze and held it, wondering what she was going to say. She was upset, clearly, and afraid. But she was also angry. Looking at it from her perspective, I totally understood too.