My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out at a red light, even though the streets were nearly empty now.
Xavier: Getting worse. We’re moving what we can.
My chest tightened. The ranch was southwest of town, right in the storm’s projected path. I wanted to tell him to forget the wedding stuff and just get underground, but I knew Xavier wellenough by now to know he wouldn’t abandon Lucas and Beau’s big day without a fight.
Me: Storm’s tracking northeast. Might miss you entirely or might hit dead on. They won’t know for another hour.
I paused, my thumb hovering over the screen. Then I added:
Me: Stay inside once you’re done. Promise me.
His response came quickly.
Xavier: I promise. You be safe too.
Me: Always am.
I shoved the phone back in my pocket and continued my circuit through town. Most of the businesses were shuttered now, their owners either in the shelter or hunkered down at home. I spotted old Mr. Chen still trying to board up his hardware store windows.
I pulled over and rolled down my window. “Mr. Chen! You need to get to the shelter, now!”
He looked up, hammer in hand. “Almost done, Sheriff. Just two more boards?—”
“Leave it,” I ordered, putting the truck in park and jumping out. “That tornado’s maybe ten minutes out. Those boards won’t matter if you’re dead.”
Something in my tone must have gotten through to him because he dropped the hammer and nodded. I helped him into my truck and drove him the three blocks to the shelter, practically pushing him through the door.
Mrs. Baxter was inside, checking names off on a clipboard. She looked up when I entered, her face creased with worry.
“That everyone?” I asked.
“Everyone I can account for,” she replied. “The Hendersons are sheltering at their place since they’ve got that reinforced basement. The Millers headed out of town this morning to visit family. But Sheriff, what about you?”
“I’m doing one more sweep,” I said, already backing toward the door. “Make sure nobody’s stranded.”
“Marcus—”
“Lock this door behind me,” I interrupted. “Don’t open it for anyone but me or emergency services. You understand?”
She opened her mouth to argue, then seemed to think better of it. “Be careful.”
I was back in my truck before she could say anything else. The wind had picked up significantly, buffeting the vehicle as I drove. Debris skittered across the road—papers, leaves, someone’s lawn chair tumbling end over end.
My radio crackled. “Sheriff Webb, this is County Emergency. Tornado confirmed on the ground, fifteen miles west of your location and closing fast. You need to take shelter immediately.”
“Copy that,” I said, scanning the streets as I drove. “Just making sure everyone’s accounted for.”
“Sheriff, that’s an EF-2 at minimum. You need to?—”
Static cut off the rest of her words. I smacked the radio, but the connection was dead. Cell tower must have gone down.
I tried my phone next, pulling up Xavier’s contact. No signal. Nothing.
“Dammit,” I muttered, fighting down the panic rising in my throat. I needed to know he was safe. Needed to hear his voice one more time, just in case?—
No. I wasn’t thinking like that. Xavier was fine. The ranch was built to withstand storms. He was probably in the cellar right now with Lucas and Beau, safe and dry and completely fine.
I had to believe that.
