She shifted on the hood until she was turned toward him. “About an hour ago, the Storm Prediction Center issued a PDS. Particularly Dangerous Situation. The SPC only issues a PDS when the elements are ripe for very severe weather or major tornado outbreaks.”
“How could it possibly be worse than yesterday? And yet, you guys have never been this tense before. Why?”
“These types of storms—” She inhaled. “Emerald Springs was a PDS.”
Mac reared back and his stomach twisted sickeningly.
“It might not happen,” she quickly added. “It all depends on how things play out. But, yeah, it could get a lot worse than yesterday. And if it does, we’re in the epicenter of where it’ll go down.”
“Shit,” he muttered, the hair actually standing up on the back of his neck.
As if she could read his thoughts, she said, “I’m sorry Mac.” Regret burned bright in her eyes. “But I can’t leave you behind. Not this time. And I can’t send you off. You’re safer with us.”
Not an hour later, cells started to light up the radar with reds, greens, and oranges. She took particular interest in one about eight miles south. “Let’s go,” she told Rick.
As they reached the darkened edge of the storm, the high tower looming above them made Mac swallow rising panic. For two days, he’d seen these clouds, watched them spawn tornadoes, but even he could see this one was different.
Lightning billowed within the darkened clouds, lighting them up from the inside.
“Storm is moving northeast. Two more cells forming toward the north. Stay with it, Rick.”
For thirty minutes they trailed the storm deeper into Arkansas. Mac stayed mute, refusing to disrupt Gayle’s concentration, especially with her continually muttering, “I don’t like this.”
The ominous feeling grew with each passing minute. A few seconds later, Gayle mumbled a vehement curse. “The cells are converging. We have a rotating core.”
“Fuck,” Rick muttered.
“What does that mean?”
She glanced back at him, her lips pressed tight. “Fucking huge, violent storm that’s trying to become even bigger by inviting more storms to the party.”
After she gave the NWS an update, she said, “We need to move in.”
Tornado warnings for the city of Makersville, Arkansas, started streaming out of the NOAA radio.
As she stared at the storm, she twisted her fingers together. Watching her distress tugged at his gut. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay. But that wasn’t a promise he could make. Her worry did show him how much she cared about the safety of others.
Her eyes widened and she fumbled for the mic on the ham and started talking. Mac looked outside.
Not one, not two, but three tornadoes were on the ground.
“Holy fucking shit,” he muttered.
She released the mic’s button. Without looking away from the tornadoes, she said, “You know what to do.”
Mac wasn’t sure who she was talking to until Rick accelerated from the creeping pace they’d been keeping to breakneck speed. Away from the tornadoes.
Gayle brought the mic back to her mouth. “The vortices are converging into a single vortex.”
Say what? Mac twisted to stare out the back window. The three tornadoes were now one and it was growing. In little over a minute, it’d widened to what had to be the length of a football field. The one they’d seen the first day was a fucking baby in comparison.
“Why are we leaving?” Honestly, he’d rather keep the damn thing in sight.
“We have a very large wedge tornado on the ground headed northeast,” she said into the mic, but she was looking at him. “Less than ten miles outside of the town of Makersville, directly in the tornado’s path.” She glanced at Rick. “Fifteen minutes before it hits.”
Rick pushed the SUV faster.
“What’s going on?” Mac asked, confused. Weren’t they speeding away from it?
Neither one answered. Less than six minutes later, they raced into the town of five thousand people. Even though the warning sirens were blaring everywhere, and a large dark cloud towered behind the town, people were still milling about. It didn’t really surprise him. The sirens went off a lot this time of year—so often, they became easy to ignore. Gayle grabbed a megaphone he hadn’t seen before, rolled down her window, and eased her body out through it to perch on the sill.
“Take cover now. Monster tornado coming,” she repeated as Rick reduced his speed to a crawl and inched down the road, weaving around any traffic in the way. As they passed a police cruiser, she waved it down. The cop lowered his window and she quickly told him what was happening. He got on his megaphone and did the same, taking off in a different direction.