He’d played by the rules and honored the company’s damn non-fraternization clause of their contract, but if they got out of this situation safe and sound, he was going to make his move.
As they got to the front door, it flung open, and Taryn stormed out with Jack hot on her tail.
Seeing Drake and Allie, they stopped, Taryn flushed and Jack looking like a kid who had gotten caught with his hands in his girlfriend’s cookie jar.
A sound similar to a train whistle warned of the impending danger.
“What is that?” Taryn covered her ears.
“The finger of God announcing its presence,” Jack said, his long black hair blowing in every direction. He grimaced. “Do we have time?”
“I don’t think we have a choice,” Drake said. “Let’s go.”
As they raced to the van, the sky darkened to an eerie onyx tinged with green and the storm raged, cloud-to-cloud lightning cracking over their heads, letting Drake know they weren’t going to escape the twister’s wrath.
The air had grown so thick it was as if he was wading through the ocean against eight-foot waves. The pressure squeezed him like a vise, making it difficult to take a deep breath. He tightened his grasp on Allie’s hand, worried the wind would blow her away from him.
His ears popped almost continuously. Bits of wheat, grass, and earth slapped at his skin. His eyes and mouth were dry and gritty. He slid his tongue over his gums, disgusted by the amount of dirt it collected.
He heard his sister’s shout and fought against the wind to turn his head in her direction. She’d fallen to her knees, but before he could react, Jack hoisted her off the ground and took her hand.
As they approached the van, the rain stopped and, oddly, the air smelled like freshly baked bread.
The wind’s roar grew louder. He’d once taken a boat ride near the Niagara Falls. This tornado sounded similar to that giant waterfall. He didn’t feel any of the excitement he’d felt standing near one of nature’s greatest wonders—only fear, knowing they were too late to outrun the cyclone.
They struggled to open the doors of the van and jumped into the vehicle. Half-dollar-sized hail battered the windshield. Drake punched the gas. He’d driven no more than a block before the outer winds hit. Helpless, he said a silent prayer, knowing they were at Mother Nature’s mercy.
The tornado lifted the front of the minivan into the air. They hovered above the ground for a moment before crashing back down. The winds pitched them back and forth, tilting the vehicle on its sides, and then it spun them in circles.
Taryn and Allie screamed in the backseat. His breath stalled in his chest, and his heart accelerated into a triple-time beat. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead as he wrestled the wind for control of the van.
He should’ve never allowed Taryn and Allie to come on the storm-chasing tour.
A lifetime later, the twister tossed them to the side of the road and continued its journey into another field. The winds slowed, and the noise quieted to a low rumble.
He took a deep inhalation to steady his nerves and tore his fingers from their tight grip on the steering wheel. “Is everybody okay?”
“Yeah, man, I’m golden,” Jack said. “That was one hell of a ride. Too bad we didn’t get the chance to record it. Taryn, you kosher?”
“I think so. I’ll let you know as soon as my heart starts beating again. What about you, Allie?”
Allie didn’t respond.
He didn’t think it was possible, but his heart raced even faster. Was Allie injured? Why wasn’t she answering? He swallowed down the lump in his throat and jumped out of the van.
He didn’t bother to assess the damage to his vehicle, but there was no missing the dent in the driver-side passenger door. His stomach plummeted to his feet.
He’d never forgive himself if she’d been harmed.
Sliding open the door, he held his breath.
Allie snapped her head to the left, her eyes wide.
Thank God she was conscious.
He exhaled and raked his gaze over her, assessing her for injuries. She had a small scratch on her cheek, grass in her hair, and she was covered in dirt, but he didn’t see any bruises or blood.
He released her seat belt and took her hand. “Are you okay?”
She blinked several times and parted her lips but didn’t speak.
Was she in shock? All the information he’d learned in his emergency medical care class about the condition came rushing back to him.
He placed his thumb over the pulse point in her wrist, relieved to discover it strong and steady. Her complexion was rosy, her skin was warm, and her pupils looked normal and responsive.
She wasn’t in shock, at least not the physically dangerous kind. So, why then was she not responding?