Just then, lightning flashed outside the main entrance and lit up the canvas roof. A deafening clap of thunder startled the horses, then rolled over and over on top itself until it felt like the entire earth was shaking. Lightning flickered again and again and again, and the musicians lost their tempo. Near the pit, Mr. Barlow motioned frantically for the band to keep playing, then raised his arm and moved his hand in small circles to signal the performers and animals to keep moving. The audience looked at one another with worried faces.
After a long, tense minute, lightning flashed again, this time not as brightly, and the following thunder sounded farther away. The band picked up the tempo and a collective feeling of relief seemed to fill the tent. The clowns waved to the kiddies, the acrobats tumbled and pranced in the parade, and the candy butchers sold peanuts and cotton candy up and down the bleachers. Lilly took a deep breath and relaxed a little. It seemed like the storm was moving away.
Then a great gust of wind hit the big top and the entire tent leaned to one side like a ship rolling on rough seas. Lilly grabbed Pepper’s headpiece with both hands and Cole’s face went dark. Women shrieked and gaped up at the ceiling with open mouths. Children started to cry and several of the horses reared, their nostrils flaring, their eyes spinning with terror. The wagon drivers yanked back on the horses’ reins, and the performers and clowns slowed and stopped. Section by section the parade came to a lurching halt. Two zebras pulled away from their handlers and ran across the center ring toward the exit, with several clowns giving chase. The Bally girls ducked for cover beneath the animal wagons, ignoring the drivers’ warnings that it wasn’t safe.
Every instinct screamed at Lilly to get out of there, but there was nowhere to run. She and Cole and the elephants were stopped in the middle of the tent, sandwiched between the big cat wagons and the camels, halfway between any possible exits. The only possible escape would involve plowing through the center rings and yelling at everyone to get out of the way. In what seemed like slow motion, the big top shifted and fell back into place, and for a second, she loosened her grip on Pepper’s headpiece. They were going to be all right. Then a sidewall suddenly lifted from the ground and the ceiling began folding in on itself, the canvas tugging and creasing and ripping. The trapeze artists’ ladders shuddered and twisted. Poles pulled out of the dirt, and ropes vibrated and snapped.
“Tornado!” a man yelled.
The crowd jumped to their feet and fought to get down from the bleachers in one giant swell, dropping popcorn boxes and cotton candy, yelling and pushing and shoving one another out of the way. Parents grabbed children’s hands and glanced up at the ceiling with panic-filled eyes, trying to watch their step at the same time. An old woman fell halfway down and her husband helped her up, struggling to keep his balance while being crowded from behind. Two boys jumped from the sides of the bleachers and dropped to the ground below. Several others followed suit. One woman tumbled and fell off the side, lay there for a moment, then got up and limped as fast as she could toward the exit.
Mr. Barlow ran into the center ring, red-faced and yelling, arms flapping as he ordered everyone to get the animals and wagons out of the tent. Hank and the other handlers rushed in with hooks and lead lines, and the wagon drivers turned the horses toward the back exit. The roustabouts scurried around gathering all movable equipment and gear, trying to lash everything together with ropes and chains.
“Get out of here!” Cole shouted at Lilly. “I’ll be right behind you!”
He didn’t need to tell her twice. She steered Pepper around a wagon toward the back exit, the coppery tang of fear in her throat. The rest of the performers headed that way too, and the escape route became an obstacle course full of camels and horses and giraffes and workers and clowns and acrobats and women in tutus.
Lilly and Pepper started and stopped what seemed like a hundred times, trying not to step on anyone. Then the back wall of the tent collapsed, and poles and ropes and great swathes of canvas fell sideways, covering the musicians and part of the bleachers still filled with panicked circusgoers. The band screeched to a halt with a clang of a cymbal and a squawk of a clarinet. The center poles of the big top leaned left and right, and the attached ropes stretched and pulled and snapped. Loud, vibrating pings and ripping sounds filled the air as the ceiling creaked and shifted above their heads, and several of the bale rings tore from the canvas. Terror flooded the tent like a living, breathing thing.
With the back access damaged and the ceiling falling in, the only way out was through the main entrance. Everyone stampeded toward it. The tent exploded with screams and shouts, the sounds of bodies shoving past bodies, and people running off bleachers and stands. Broken ropes whipped in the air like frenzied snakes, and wooden poles and ladders splintered and crashed. Lilly turned Pepper around and urged her toward the entrance, then glanced over her shoulder to make sure Cole and the other elephants were following. They were farther back, trying to make their way through the chaotic throng of animals and people. When Lilly faced forward again, Mr. Barlow was blocking her way, a bull hook in his hands. Pepper stopped in her tracks and trumpeted loudly.
“What are you doing?” Lilly yelled. “Get out of the way!”
“You can’t take her out there!” Mr. Barlow shouted.
“Are you out of your mind? We’ve got to get out of here!” Lilly urged Pepper forward, but Mr. Barlow refused let her pass, barring her way at every turn. Pepper trumpeted and reared, but not enough to make Lilly fall off.
Mr. Barlow raised the bull hook, his face threatening. “She’s not leaving this tent!”
Terror and confusion twisted in Lilly’s chest. Why was Mr. Barlow trying to stop Pepper from getting to safety? It didn’t make sense. Pepper was his biggest draw and worth a lot of money. All around them, handlers and animals and rubes and performers stampeded out of the tent, a blur of human limbs, furry heads, tails, and hoofed feet. Llamas and horses and poodles and people zigzagged and bolted and jumped over one another, screaming and galloping and trying to escape. Women fell and shrieked. Children stumbled and vanished and parents yanked them up to carry them, flailing and crying, out of the big top.
If Lilly had to force Pepper to trample Mr. Barlow into the ground to escape, she was getting them out of there alive. She urged Pepper forward, but Pepper refused to run him over. Mr. Barlow raised the bull hook and struck Pepper in the chest, grunting with the effort. Pepper cried out in pain and Lilly shrieked in anger. She swung her leg over Pepper’s head and put her feet together, ready to slide down Pepper’s side and wrestle the bull hook away from Mr. Barlow. But before she could, Cole stopped JoJo beside them and told her to stay put. He jumped down from JoJo and grabbed the bull hook with both hands, his face contorted with fury. Mr. Barlow held on and they grappled with it above their heads, grimacing and pushing each other back and forth.