Storm Warning

CHAPTER Six





Tory flew. She didn’t know how she could run so quickly when her legs felt like jelly. All she knew was that she had been standing at the watch station one minute, then the next she saw a little girl on a blanket in the backyard. And a massive, roaring monster coming right for her.

She knew it was herself she’d been seeing, but what if there were people in that house? The tornado got them, was all she could think. She had to help.

Her sides were aching fiercely, but she didn’t lose speed. Her sneakers lost traction several times on the wet grass. She heard someone shouting her name behind her, but she didn’t break stride. It fueled her to keep running and to run faster.

Moments later, she cleared a white picket fence in the front yard of the house. She saw the tornado dissolve in the distance and cursed it with every step she took. It had done its damage, she thought wildly, and now it was gone. Just like before.

She ran to the side of the house and a scream nearly tore from her throat. The roof was gone. The top half of the house was destroyed and sunken in. She tried to open the back door, but it didn’t budge.

“Is somebody in there?” she shouted in a voice that was not her own.

She rounded the house, stopped at a pile of debris and waited a beat. Then she heard someone crying. Oh, God, she thought as she slammed her body into a full length window, already partially broken from the storm.

Glass broke all around her and she kicked the rest of it down to gain access.

“Help my dad, please!” a woman shouted.

Tory looked up and saw her. She stood there with her blond hair in wild disarray and blood on her hands. Tory looked at the limp figure on the floor and was beside him in an instant.

With shaky fingers she felt for a pulse.

“He’s alive. Get me clean towels to stop the bleeding.” Ruthlessly controlling her emotions, Tory ran her hands over his body to check for broken bones. She hardly noticed the sound of splitting wood as Adam and Gabe busted down the back door.

“What the hell, Tory!” Adam came into the house and was at her side in an instant, holding a clean towel in the gash on the man’s side.

“Call an ambulance!” she shouted at Gabe who was already dialing. “What’s his name?” she asked the girl.

“Phil. He’s my father.” She set more towels next to Tory.

“Phil,” Tory said to the unconscious man, “you just hold on. We’re getting you help.”

“Thank you so much for coming.” Tears slid down the girl’s cheeks. “How did you know?”

“We’re storm chasers. We were watching that tornado,” Adam told her. “What’s your name?”

“Ashley.”

“Why don’t you have a cellar?” Tory asked.

“We never could afford one. We’ve always used the bathroom,” Ashley said, taking her father’s hand in hers.

“They’re on their way,” Gabe crouched down next to Tory, glaring. “You’re bleeding.”

“I busted through that window.”

“A door wouldn’t have been more productive?” Gabe all but shouted at her.

“Of course it would have. If it had opened.”

Gabe shoved away and stormed out what was left of the back door. Tory didn’t care. She didn’t need his attitude at the moment. She had plenty to deal with. Phil moaned when she added a second towel to the blood-soaked one on his side. She tried to talk to him, but his lids fluttered and closed again.

Adam took a jug of water out of the backpack he carried and wet the corner of a towel to clean up some of the cuts on Phil’s face. They didn’t look deep once the blood was gone, but the gouge on his side was serious.

“There’s the ambulance.” Adam commented a minute later and everything was a daze of confusion and speed from there.

After the paramedics loaded Phil into the ambulance, Ashley hugged Tory and went with her father.

Tory stood in the house for a moment alone, staring at the ruined furniture, gaping holes, and wet floors through a sheen of tears. She fought them desperately, thinking she’d held on this long. She couldn’t let herself fall apart yet.

“You’re going to the hospital,” Gabe said quietly.

She shook her head, afraid she would cry. She hadn’t even heard him come back inside.

“Yes, you are. You’re bleeding everywhere.” He was standing right behind her.

Silent tears were already falling down her cheeks. She let out a shaky breath to get a hold on herself. She would have too, she knew, but the warmth Gabe’s hand was there on her shoulder and the pressure in her chest was too much to bear.

She covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Gabe turned her and pulled her up against him.

“Get it out, Tory.” His voice was so gentle, so understanding that Tory wept more.

“I saw how it could have gone in my head,” she said between choking sobs. “I couldn’t stand there and d-do nothing!”

“I know you couldn’t.” Gabe brushed a strand of hair out of her face, wiped the moisture off her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

“It could have been so much worse for them.” Tory sighed, swiping at the tears. The storm had passed, she thought, and closed her eyes to stop the pounding in her head.

Gabe held her against him, giving no sign that he was going to let her go.

Adam came in and stopped short. “The guys are here.”

“I’m not going to the hospital.” Tory jerked back. “It’s just cuts. Nothing that will need stitches.”

“You’re going,” Gabe commanded quietly, then left the house. Tory watched him go, then wrapped her arms around herself since he’d taken the warmth with him.

“We’d feel better if you went and got checked out.”

“Adam, I’m fine.” Then she looked at her brother and saw the barely controlled anger in his glare. The storm hadn’t passed yet, after all.

“What the hell were you doing, Tory? You could have been killed!”

“I’m a chaser, Adam. I knew what I was doing.”

“Bullshit. You just ran. I saw the look in your eyes. You had no idea what you were doing. You weren’t thinking.” His big hands curled into fists at his sides.

“Adam, please don’t,” she said quietly.

Gabe came back through the door and wrapped his jacket around Tory. “I’m fine, you guys. I just need a couple aspirin and a hot bath.”

“Shut up,” Gabe ordered curtly and swept her off her feet to carry her to the truck.

If she thought it would do any good to argue, she would have. But instead, she let him carry her to the truck, then into the Emergency Room—and later, back to his hotel room.





“Take these.” Gabe handed the pills to her before closing the curtains in his hotel room.

Assuming the little white pills were for pain, Tory swallowed them without argument. She had been right, no stitches were necessary. However, Dr. Uptight decided exhaustion was Tory’s main problem and she would need several days of bed rest for the scrapes to heal.

“Dr. Upbright is an idiot,” Tory commented, snuggling deep into Gabe’s pillows.

“Yes, but he was right. You need rest.”

“I can rest the same in my own room.” But she felt her eyes getting heavy. They had the same type of bed, but for some reason, his was much more comfortable. Maybe it was his scent on the sheets, she mused. He always smelled really good.

“Yes, but then I can’t keep an eye on you.”

“What are you going to be doing while I rest?” She blinked twice, but the room stayed fuzzy. What were those pills for?

“Editing pictures.”

Tory sniffed. “I have work I could be doing, too. I have two articles to write. The website needs updating, and I need to start organizing our annual fundraiser.” Her words were slurred and her hands felt like slabs of meat.

“Go to sleep.”

“What the hell did you give me anyway?”

“Sleeping pill.”

“Bastard,” she muttered before she slipped into darkness.





Sirens were screaming. The sky was a murky, cantankerous green that reminded her of her Mommy’s eyes. Aside from the intrusive shrill of the siren, it was calm outside. The leaves on the trees didn’t move—the blades of grass didn’t dance. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up.

Tory sat on her blanket and watched the sky. Cheese sandwiches were spread out around the blanket for five imaginary guests—and Barbie—who were also watching the clouds.

Her daddy was in his shop across the driveway. Tory could see him and she smiled.

“There’s Daddy,” she told Barbie, then turned around to watch mother run out of the house and toward her. Toward death.

Her mother was shouting, but Tory couldn’t hear the words. The sirens were too loud, she mused, all though she never heard her mother’s voice anymore. Tory turned back to the field and watched the tornado with wonder.

Her father was first. He ran out of the shed and yelled at Tory and her mother with no voice. Before Tory could help him, he was gone. She saw her mother’s face and began to cry.

Her mother ran toward the tornado. Why did she run? Tory asked herself later. Her husband was gone. Tornados don’t give back things they take. Not alive, anyway.

Tory stood up. She had to go to her mother. Tears streaming down her face, Barbie in one hand, Tory started across the yard, stopping short when her mother vanished too.

She cried out, calling for them. The tornado kept spinning toward the fields on the other side of the house. Tory tried to chase it. If it would take her too, she could be with her Mommy and Daddy—but it was faster.

So much faster.

She stopped running when the tornado went back up into the sky. It was eerie again.

Calm, quiet, and over.





Tory sat up straight in bed and sucked in a painful breath. She wanted to scream and cry, but even that wasn’t possible.

Gabe was sitting on the bed beside her. He took her ice cold hands in his.

“It’s okay, Tory. It was just a dream.”

“No, it wasn’t. It wasn’t a dream.” It was a memory. She shook her head and fought for calm. Gabe handed her a cup of something. She didn’t care what it was. She sucked it down greedily.

Coffee, she realized, even though she could hardly taste it. The smell helped bring her out of her panic. She sat on the bed staring at their joined hands. His long, dark fingers tangled with her slim, pale ones.

“Thank you,” she managed after a moment. “How long did I sleep?”

“About twelve hours.”

She nodded although she hated to lose so much time. She supposed she had needed it. Her muscles were lax and loose, the scrapes barely bothered her. She glanced at Gabe and noticed with a frown that he was still dressed in the clothes he wore on the chase.

“You haven’t been to bed?”

“No.”

“You didn’t have to stay up because of me.”

He snorted and flipped a light on. Opening the refrigerator, he pulled out a sack, arranged food on a plate, and popped it in the microwave.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked her as he topped off her coffee. “Nauseas, dizzy?”

“No, I’m fine.” She lay back against the pillow she’d propped. “How are you?”

“Wonderful.”

Tory heard the sarcasm in his voice—saw his dark features drawn before he turned around to stare at nothing.

“Gabe?” she said quietly.

“I’m fine.” He pulled the plate out and brought it over to her. “You need to eat something. It’s been too long for you to go without something in your system.”

“Is everything okay?” she asked without looking at the food he held out to her. She could tell he was angry, she just didn’t know why.

“What do you mean?”

“Is everyone all right? No one got hurt, did they?”

“No,” he answered quickly with barely controlled violence. “No one except for you.”

“Gabe, I’m fine. I’ve had much worse. I didn’t even have to get stitches or anything.” She took the plate when his hand began to shake.

“You keep telling yourself that.” He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

“Gabe.” She called out to him and he stopped, rigid in the doorway. “Please don’t go anywhere yet. I—I need you here right now.”

He turned slowly. She saw the change in his eyes—fury to control—and he nodded, dropping his jacket into a chair by the door. He crossed to the bed and sat on the edge of it.

“Eat.”

She complied eagerly, eating every bite and drinking two and a half cups of coffee. When he took her plate to the sink, she tried again.

“What’s wrong?”

His jaw tightened again and the plate clattered in the sink.

“You could have been killed,” he said in a flat, angry voice. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing roughly in his throat. “You ran after a tornado, Tory.”

“I know. I’m sorry I scared everyone. I wasn’t really thinking.”

He smiled now, only a little. “At least you’re honest.”

She lay back again against the pillows. “How long are we staying here?”

“Your brother said we’ll move out on Friday. He’s concerned about you, but I think he wants any excuse to be able to use the gym for a week.”

She ignored his attempt at distracting her and frowned. “Today’s Monday.”

“Yes.”

“Why are we wasting a week out of the chase? We should be following that system east.” Five days in one place? The thought caused dread to her stomach to turn.

“We would be if you weren’t physically exhausted and cut up everywhere.”

“I said I was sorry. And sorry isn’t something I usually am.” She smiled at his frown.

“No, you wouldn’t be would you? You mean everything you do. Why should you be sorry for it?” His hand shot out and grabbed her arm. He pulled her to him and said into her ear, “Ever do that again, I’ll strangle you, you hear?”

She had to giggle. “Yes, I hear.”

He smiled now and hugged her close to him. She let herself lean and thought five days with him wouldn’t be all that intolerable.