Page 53 of Desperate Creed

Creed didn’t answer. He was remembering the Garner’s vehicle. It certainly looked like an IED had blown it up. The gas station had been reduced to piles of bricks and boards. Pine trees snapped in half. He’d seen mortars demolish entire Afghan villages to empty hulls. But it was hard to wrap his mind around the fact that this destruction had been caused by forces of wind, and not explosives.

They hadn’t driven for more than ten minutes when dark clouds started gathering in the west. This section of the interstate, the north and southbound lanes were separated by a wide median filled with hardwood trees, so thick and so tall it was impossible to see what was on the other side. Occasionally, through a sliver between trees Creed could see the oncoming lanes of traffic.

Behind them it continued to grow dark enough that the vehicles following now had their headlights on. Creed kept glancing at his mirrors and each time the gray mass seemed to creep closer, swallowing every last piece of sky.

He craned his neck until he could get a glimpse of Grace in her crate. She had her nose pressed against the metal grate of her door.

“You okay, Grace?” he asked, and Jason twisted in his seat to take a look back.

“They can feel the storm,” Jason said.

“She can smell it.”

Jason was still turned looking out the rear window. “Man, it’s getting wicked back there.”

Just then, the radio started blaring with the emergency broadcast system. The robotic voice told them a tornado had been spotted on the ground six miles west of Hayneville moving north, northeast. A tornado warning was in effect for Lowndes County.

“Where’s Hayneville?” Jason asked as he pulled out his cell phone and started tapping up map coordinates.

“Looks like Lowndes County is up above Butler. Isn’t that where we were yesterday? And we’re now in...” He looked back at his phone. “Montgomery County. It must be behind us.”

The emergency broadcast ended and a weather report came on with the meteorologist repeating the information. Creed clicked up the volume:

“Folks in Hayneville, you need to take cover now. Go to the lowest level of your house. If you’re in a trailer, get to your neighbors. Get off the road and into a building. You need to move to the middle, away from windows. Cover your head. And folks in Montgomery County, you need to prepare for this tornado. The National Weather Service hasn’t issued a warning for Montgomery County yet, but I’m telling you, if you’re in the southern part of Montgomery, you need to be looking for this tornado to be headed your way.”

Jason twisted in his seat again to look out the back window, “It’s really dark back there.”

Creed glanced into the side mirror in time to see the cloud-to-ground lightning. It illuminated the entire sky.

An 18-wheeler roared by in the lane next to them, and Creed started looking for an exit. There were no signs promising any escape in the next several miles.

“Maybe we should get off the interstate.” Jason said, as if he were reading Creed’s mind.

“Some of the back roads wind in all directions. That might not be a good idea. We could get trapped.”

Another truck zoomed by, its wake shoved at the Jeep, almost knocking them aside. Were they oblivious to the warnings or trying to outrun the storm?

“So maybe you need to speed up,” Jason said.

Creed still couldn’t see anything to their left. The continuous mass of trees blocked the horizon. But he did notice the black clouds coming over the tops of the branches. They were churning and so was his stomach.

The rain came as a downpour. No droplets. No pitter-patter. A sudden sheet of water that the windshield wipers couldn’t keep up with. All Creed could see ahead was the blur of taillights. Cars were still passing on his left. The trees blocking the horizon started to sway.

The first ping of hail rattled him into a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. The clatter on the roof that followed sounded like it could break a hole in the metal. He worried it would shatter the windshield.

“Son of a bitch,” Jason said.

Creed could feel the kid’s tension. He wanted to tell him to calm down, but he was pretty sure he had every right to feel tense. They were in trouble, and he didn’t even need to look at Grace to see how true that was.

38

Creed wondered how it was possible. The faster he drove, the darker the sky got. It was pitch black behind them. He still couldn’t see a thing to the west. The ridge of trees in the median continued to block his view. The hail had stopped, but the rain continued.

“It just looks like a massive thunderstorm,” Jason said. He was turned and straining against his seatbelt, so he could watch out the rear window. “I don’t see anything resembling a tornado. Maybe it’s not even close.”

Still, Creed turned up the radio, but the meteorologist had a whole new list of other tornado warnings in other counties. Willis Dean kept reminding them, “Even if I didn’t mention your county, watch the sky. Conditions could change very quickly.”

Creed glanced down at the compass in the Jeep’s dashboard. The meteorologist had said the tornado was moving north, northeast. They were traveling northeast. Just when he told himself they were moving along right in its path, the rain let up. The sky in front of them seemed to lighten.