“Go,” I said, putting my hand on Abbi’s shoulder and urging her forward.“Get in the truck with Lorde and Hado.”
“How far?”Lula asked Elmer.
We were all moving now, the wind heaving at the walls of the house, windows rattling.
Eunice shoved a canvas bag at Pamela as she passed by, and another bag, that looked like it held food, at Josie.
“It’s out aways.New Mexico.Seven, eight hours if we drive fast,” Elmer said.
“Then let’s drive fast,” I said.
Elmer stopped in front of Eunice.“Ma’am.Thank you so much for your hospitality.That pie was the best I’ve had in years.If you ever need a thing me or my family can assist with, you let us know.”
She grinned, and it made her look years younger.“Thank you, Elmer.I appreciate you being here.This was…good timing.”
Another flash of light and boom of thunder drowned out his reply.He glanced my way and pointed at the living room, indicating we should follow him.
“Eunice,” I said.
“No time, Brogan Gauge.You need to run.And run now!”
Her voice carried the power of song, of fate, of realities strung together to make a chord, a symphony which thrummed down my spine and pushed me to move, to hurry, to run.
Lula took hold of my hand.
We ran.
Through the house, through the open door.
The sky was wide and wild, a mountainous wall of storm clouds churning on the horizon and swallowing the land.
Lightning licked blue and green, thunder exploded.
A spatter of rain, driven by the whipping wind struck my face, my arms, my head like sharpened nails.
We ran.
Elmer ducked into the back of Pamela’s SUV, slamming the door just as the rain picked up.
Our truck, Silver, was close enough I could see Abbi sitting up on her knees in the cab, Lorde on one side, Hado on the other.But it felt like it was miles away.
The sky cracked open, and rain came down with a vengeance.
We ran.
I couldn’t see the truck.Rain stung my eyes, blinding me, battering every inch of exposed skin.
It was cold—far too cold for Oklahoma—a blizzard of icy teeth biting and bruising.I held on to Lu and barged forward, my other hand stretched out, like I was going to tackle an oncoming football player.
My hand slapped the window of the truck.The driver’s side.
Lula pulled away and wrested the door open, slipping inside.
I dragged my hand across the hood and staggered to the other side.
The wind howled—the sound of a wounded animal baring its fangs, ready to attack.
I yanked on the door, but it wouldn’t open.Abbi lunged for the handle, pushing as I pulled.
