Children cried out, and a few adults did, too.
“Is this happening?” I said, feeling my heart thundering against my rib cage.
Shepley squeezed my hand. “Look at me, Mare. It’ll be over soon.”
I nodded quickly, leaning over to see Tim still filming. He took a step back and then began scrambling up the incline.
I pulled Shepley as close to me as I could, and he held me tight. Time seemed to pause. It was quiet—no wind, no crying, almost as if the whole world had held its breath in anticipation of the next few seconds. This was a moment in time that would change the lives of everyone who had taken cover under the wrong bridges.
Too quickly, peace was over, and the wind began to roar like a dozen military jets were slowly flying low overhead. The grass in the median below began to whip, and I felt like I was under a mile of water, the change in air pressure feeling heavy and disorienting. At first, I was pushed back a bit, and then I saw Tim being taken off his feet. He slammed to the ground, clawed at the concrete, and then grass before being sucked into the sky by an invisible monster.
Screams surrounded me, and my fingers dug into Shepley’s back. He leaned toward me, but as the funnel made its way to the other side of the east bridge and then ours, the air changed. Another person cried as she lost her grip and was pulled out from our hiding place. One by one, anyone not tucked inside the nook where the hill met the bridge was ripped away.
“Hold on!” Shepley yelled, but his voice was snuffed out. He used every bit of his strength to push me further into the crevice.
I felt his body pulling away from me. His arms tightened around me, but when I began to scoot forward, he released me altogether and dug his toes into the concrete, leaning into the wind.
“Shep!” I yelled, watching as his fingers turned white, pressing against the ground.
He struggled for a moment to hand me his backpack.
I slid it over one arm and then reached out for him. “Take my hand!”
His feet began to slide, and he looked up at me, recognition and terror on his face. “Close your eyes, baby.”
Once he said the words, he was gone, whipped out like he weighed nothing. I screamed his name, but my voice was lost in the deafening wind.
The air pressure changed, and the suction stopped. I ran down to the bottom, seeing a dark blue twisting rope barreling down the turnpike, tossing semis like they were toys. I crawled out, and then I ran from beneath the bridge, looking around in disbelief, feeling the sting of the rain on every inch of my exposed skin.
“Shepley!” I screamed, bending over. I held tight to his backpack, hugging it to me as if it were him.
The rain faded away, and I watched as the tornado grew in size, gracefully gliding toward Emporia.
I sprinted to the Charger, stopping at the top of the ditch. The turnpike was now a path of destruction with mangled cars and random pieces of debris lying everywhere. The wreckage from the semi and SUV were no longer there, a large piece of tin lying in its place.
Just moments before, Shepley and I had been on a road trip to see my parents. Now, I was in the middle of what looked like a war zone.
The water was still sloshing over the hood of the Charger.
“We were just in there,” I whispered to no one. “He was just in there!” My chest heaved, but no matter how many breaths I took, I couldn’t get enough air. My hands hit my knees, and then my knees hit the ground. A sob tore through my throat, and I wailed.
I hoped he would jog up to me and reassure me that he was okay. The longer I waited by the Charger without him, the more I panicked. He wasn’t coming back. Maybe he was lying somewhere, hurt. I wasn’t sure what to do. If I left to look for him, he might come to the Charger, but I wouldn’t be there.