Julio’s jaw tenses. Lightning flashes like a strobe. The thunderhead begins to swirl counterclockwise and the wind roars. The Seasons in the fields pause, watching the storm grow. They shield their heads as it bears down on them, pushing them back.
Lightning cracks. The sky opens above us, drenching Julio andJack with torrents of rain. Wind rocks the car. I turn on the wipers, scattering pebbles of ice that bounce off the hood.
“Ready?” Jack shouts.
Hail pelts Julio’s face and he blinks it away. “Now!”
Arms raised, they turn west, shoulder to shoulder. They clasp hands, straining to stay upright under the barrage of ice and wind as their storms converge over the highway in front of us. Slowly, they draw their hands down, their joined magic pulling a twisting funnel from the sky. The oncoming traffic brakes, skidding to a stop as the tip of the tornado reaches the ground. Drivers turn, crossing the median, changing direction to avoid it. The rest flee their cars and scramble to the ditches along the shoulder as the base of the funnel stretches across the highway. Wide enough to shield us from the army on the other side.
Julio shouts something to Jack, but the words are sucked away by the howling wind.
Through the flapping wipers, I watch as they release each other’s hands, and in a single coordinated movement, they push. Palms out and shoulders forward, they nudge their perfect storm along the road. My breath catches. It’s beautiful and violent and terrifying, throwing cars and uprooting trees. Powerful enough to blind our enemies—to blow power lines, disrupt frequencies, and tear asphalt from the roads.
The Seasons in the fields keep their distance, shielding their eyes from flying debris, unable or unwilling to turn their backs on the funnel cloud and the four of us. We’ll have to be careful. Have to maintain control of it. If we can keep it on a steady course, we can force our enemies from the road without hurting anyone.
Our phalanx in motion, Jack and Julio stumble to the car. They fall into the back seat and slam the doors, drenched and shaking.
“Go,” Jack pants. “Chase it as close as you can. We’ll keep it on course.”
Jack holds my shoulder, his frigid hands finding the warmth of my skin. Julio leans close to Amber, her right hand clutching his over the back of her seat. I put the car in drive, and Amber and I lock hands over the gearshift, creating the same powerful loop that saved us back at the cabin. The air in the car sizzles with static. I push the pedal to the floor, rubber screaming from the tires as we peel out onto the road.
The tornado sways in serpentine patterns, ravaging the edges of the fields, throwing billboards and sucking speed limit signs from the ground. I match its speed, keeping back a cautious distance.
“Can you see anything?” Julio uses his shoulder to wipe water from his eyes.
“I can’t see in front of it,” Amber says. “It’s too big.”
The funnel is huge. A monster. There’s no way our enemies can get close. And the police will be far too preoccupied with the aftermath to worry about anything else. The power Jack and Julio are pulling leaves me lightheaded as they fight to maintain control of the storm.
They slump, heads resting on the backs of our seats. I dart a quick glance in the rearview mirror to make sure they’re okay, surprised by the flash of headlights behind us. Two sets, slicing through the strange dusty gray light, coming up fast.
“Jack?”
Jack’s head snaps up. He catches my eyes in the mirror. He and Julio turn in their seats and the funnel turns with them, veering far off the road. It doubles back violently as I swerve, and Jack and Julio recapture their focus.
A pickup truck closes the gap. It rams me from behind as a sportscar pulls alongside me. A chill creeps over me as I recognize the driver. “It’s Doug Lausks.” I press the pedal harder, but it’s already touching the floor.
Jack’s fingers dig into my shoulder as the sports car inches closer. We lurch as the pickup rams us again. Jack turns over his shoulder. “Denver Whittaker.”
Julio swears as Doug rams us again. “Their whole team must be out there. We’ve got to lose them, Fleur.”
No one wants that more than I do. I jerk the sedan left, forcing the sports car onto the shoulder. Doug’s car kicks up dust, nearly running off the road. Straddling the lane line, I gun the engine and pull ahead of them, careful to keep my distance from the funnel. It’s all I can do to maintain control of the car so Julio and Jack can keep control of the storm.
A shot rings out. I swerve, and we all duck our heads.
Denver holds a gun out the window of his truck. There’s a sharppingas a bullet lodges in the sedan’s trunk. He takes another sloppy shot between leaps at my bumper.
“I’ve had enough of this bullshit.” Amber drops Julio’s hand and rolls down her window.
“What are you doing?” Julio sounds panicked as she drags her upper body out of the car. The funnel wavers as Julio reaches for her, shouting at her to get back inside. I grab onto her foot, one eye on the road as I anchor her in place. Another shot rings out from Denver’s truck and we all scream her name. I grip the wheel tight, terrified of losing control at this speed and throwing her through the window. Amber summons a ball of fire. She winds it back, pitching it hard into Denver’s front grill.
The engine erupts in flames. We all let out a breath as Denver slams on his brakes, his truck veering violently off the road. In my mirror, Iread the curse on Doug’s lips, the flash of panic in his eyes as he watches Denver’s truck flip in his rearview mirror. Doug hesitates, the distance widening between our bumpers, his eyes darting back and forth between us and his mirror as Denver climbs from the wreckage.
Doug lays into his accelerator.
Amber spins another flame, stretching it between her fingers until it’s the size of a cannonball. Doug rams us from behind. The car lurches and the fire tumbles uselessly to the ground. Jack lunges for Amber as I lose my grip and she slips from the edge of the car. With a cry, Julio thrusts his hand out the window, catching her by the front of her jeans before she falls.
The tornado zigzags, chipping away wide swaths of the highway. A piece of debris smacks Doug’s windshield, splintering the glass and pushing him back.
