Tornado Warning (9 page)

The edges of the cuts were red and he had done his best to clean them without causing more pain for Ty, but it felt like a half-ass attempt. The bone worried him the most – what if Ty lost his arm because of this? And the head wound was worrisome too. At least he was alert and talking, but didn’t people seem fine days after and then suddenly take a turn for the worse? It made Ryan sick to his stomach.

“Am I going to die?” Ty asked, looking up at his father.

“No. What did I tell you earlier?” Ryan fanned his fingers through Ty’s hair. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’m sorry that you’re hurt.” Ryan felt the warmth gather in the corners of his eyes and turned his face away. He couldn’t let Ty see the tears.

He had to go find help, but Ryan couldn’t leave Ty. That was not an option. With the looters and the unpredictable weather, it was out of the question. He could get him out of the cellar and cart him to town where more people were probably gathered. But they lived too far away to make that trek without the absolute certainty that they’d be protected when another storm came through. The question wasn’t
if,
it was
when
. There would be more weather. It was like they were stuck in a cycle that was out to kill everyone, controlled by a country who was using atmospheric warfare to take over America. If he carried Ty off and away from shelter and food and another storm came, they’d be dead.

He needed a vehicle. He needed the atmosphere to calm down. He needed to find Cecilia. And most of all, he needed medical attention for Ty. Help wasn’t coming.
No one
was coming. They were forgotten – stuck in hell on earth with no signs of anything getting better.

Chapter Nine

Darryl saw the storm forming to the east of him. He was about two miles from his house, and would never make it back in time if the weather decided to backtrack and come his direction. It got dark and the clouds grew faster than he had ever seen.

Looking around, he had no shelter anywhere nearby to go to. There were groves of trees that had already been torn apart, their trunks the only thing still rooted in the ground like a lumberjack had hacked away at the limbs.

Leaning on one, he took a second to watch the sky. He couldn’t continue on his trek to the south without getting closer. If he stood back, he’d have a chance to survive if the storm took a normal pattern, leaving him on the west end out of harm’s way. But none of the storms had been doing that. From what he had observed, everything swung around and the path was unpredictable.

Sipping his canteen, he sloshed the water around. This was why he struggled with his decision to leave his semi-safe cellar. He also worried about Ryan – the storm was right over the Harper Springs area and they were probably getting the brunt of it. From his vantage point, he couldn’t see any wall clouds or funnels dipping down, but there was some defined rotation that could easily produce something tornadic at any second.

He could walk west and put even more distance between him, but that would set him back. It’d also be possible that he’d run into the looters again, and this time, he might not be as lucky as he was the first time he encountered them. If he stayed where he was, his risk of being right in the path grew, especially if it took a more northerly track.

Despite the grim situation playing out in front of him, Darryl admired the show that mother nature was putting on. It was hypnotic watching the different colors mesh together, the lightning flashing from cloud to cloud, and the chemistry of the atmosphere blending to form something with that kind of power. A large white hail shaft was right in the middle, and he’d be willing to bet it was producing at least softball sized hail.

It gave him a natural high, but the loud clap of thunder pulled him from his haze and he thought about all of the innocent people in harm’s way, including his family.

The wind picked up and cool air sucked up into the clouds. It sprinkled some, but only enough to make the ground wet again, and then it stopped. The storm continued to move northeastward, giving no indication that it would backtrack. With the uncertainty of it all, Darryl questioned his ability to track it, but it pushed off, leaving a lighter gray sky behind it. It was small compared to the recent storms, which was shocking. This would’ve easily been ranked a severe storm on a normal afternoon. But things were not normal and he feared they never would be again.

He had to keep going. With as fast as it was moving, he’d never catch up to it unless it stalled out. Getting to Ryan and his family was important, but he also feared what he might find. What if they were dead? What if he stumbled on their bodies? With how desolate and quiet everything was around him, the chances of even finding them at all, were minimal. Not knowing what would happen next was killing him, and it was disheartening knowing that the only other people he had come across were looters who had already killed his neighbors. Darryl didn’t want to admit that things were that bad. It was the twenty-first century. How could it
ever
get that bad?

~~

Ryan spent most of the day stringing together rope to make a stretcher. With the stronger pieces of wood, he’d be able to make something sturdy enough for Ty when the time came to get him out of the cellar. It seemed more efficient than wasting his time on steps that would possibly collapse with the next round of storms that came through. All he needed to do was make sure there was a way to safely secure Ty when he pulled him up and not risk the boy falling.

With his fear of leaving the boy unattended, he hadn’t strayed far from their shelter. He wondered what was out in the pasture from all of the debris that had been tossed around. Maybe he’d find some random parts and things he could use as tools, but with Ty in and out of consciousness, the unpredictable weather, and the looters, he wasn’t comfortable going very far.

Leaning over the entrance to the cellar, he flashed his light down inside. “Hey, Ty! You awake?” He needed rest, but he also needed to monitor how often Ty slept. He flashed the light to the side of the lawn chair so he wouldn’t blind him.

Ty nodded and murmured something and that was enough response to make Ryan focus on the homemade stretcher. He hoped he’d never have to use it. Maybe the Red Cross would come with their official equipment and whisk him to a good hospital away from the hell they were living.

If it wasn’t for his watch, he’d have no idea what time of day it was. It was cloudy and dark most of the time, and he hadn’t seen the stars for days. The only time he saw the sun was when the cap had burned off and allowed the dry line to retreat, triggering the storms that left them in the apocalyptic aftermath.

Yawning, he decided to call it a night. It was a little after eight and he was hungry, tired, and he had to come up with a plan on what they needed to do next.

Sliding the branches and wood inside the cellar, he secured the metal door, tying it back to the metal pipe that had held securely during the last bout of weather. Applying a can of propane to a lantern, it brightened their cave enough for him to pull out a few options for their dinner.

He took out a can of tamales and opened them, thankful most canned goods had the tab on them now. He had a pocket knife if he needed it, but it was much more convenient to pull the lid off. Scooping it into a camp saucepan, he lit the stove and watched them heat up, his mind racing in several different directions.

Ty lifted his head off of the lawn chair, his eyes half way open. “What are you making?”

“Tamales. Want some?”

“I’m thirsty.”

Ryan handed him a bottle of water. “Are you hurting any?”

Ty nodded and took a few sips. “My arm and my head hurt.”

“In about an hour you can take a Tylenol. Think you can make it until then?” Ryan glanced down at his watch. An hour was an eternity when someone was in pain, but he couldn’t risk hurting Ty even more by giving him too much medicine.

Ty set the water on the floor and closed his eyes. “I don’t feel good...” he whimpered and a few tears escaped his eyelids, trailing down his cheeks, leaving lines in the dirt that was caked on his skin. They hadn’t cleaned up in several days and it was showing.

Ryan kissed him on the forehead. “I know, Bud. I’m working on it, I promise.”

Scooping the tamales onto a paper plate, he sat on the floor close to Ty and offered him a bite, which surprisingly, he took, scarfing down the processed junk food. Ryan laughed. Just days before he was cringing at the thought of eating something so atrocious, and here they were, gobbling it up like it was gourmet food.

The tamales made him think of Cecilia. He had to tell himself she was somewhere safe with ample food supply, or he’d panic and make a bad decision. Offering the last bite to Ty, he tossed the paper plate in a trash bag and gulped some water.

“You ready to get some sleep?” Ryan adjusted Ty’s blankets and ruffled his hair. “I bet you’re loving not having to brush your teeth.”

“Or take a bath,” Ty replied, smiling.

“Yeah, we’re starting to stink up the place, aren’t we?” Ryan laughed and ran his tongue over his teeth, longing for some toothpaste. “I guess we can pretend we are out camping at Fox Lake like we did last summer. You caught so many fish. You beat your old man!”

Ty smiled again and lifted his head. “Will we get to go back to the lake soon?”

“I’ll make sure we do, Ty. As soon as we get you well again, we’ll go as much as you want.” Ryan looked away, wiping another tear from his cheek. If they ran out of food, he’d have to go to the river to try and catch some fish. At least it was an option if it came down to that. “I’m going to shut this lantern off so we can sleep. If you need anything at all, son, I’m right here beside you.”

“Okay, Daddy. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He checked the rope that secured the door to make sure the knot was tight and slid onto his lawn chair, clasping his hands behind his head. He stared up into the darkness, smelling the damp walls around them, attempting to process everything. There was no way to get his mind to shut down for a second. Tomorrow would be another day of hoping someone would find them.

Exhaustion won the battle and he felt his body doze off, drifting into a dream-like state that took him away from the wasteland that was now home.

Ryan woke up to Ty screaming. Falling off of the lawn chair, he reached for a flashlight, unable to find it right off. The child’s voice echoed off of the walls and when he yelled Cecilia’s name, there was an obvious tone of desperation and panic in his words.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Clicking the light on, Ryan grabbed Ty’s hand, holding it as he finally woke up. Confused about where he was, he cringed when he lifted his injured arm.

“Lay still, Ty. Don’t hurt yourself. It’s me. I’m here.”

“Where am I? Where’s my room? Where’s my house?” His voice got louder with each question.

“I think you’re dreaming, Ty. I’m right here.” Ryan unscrewed the water bottle from supper and helped him take a drink. “Are you okay, Ty?”

“I want to go home.”

His complaints were coming more often, and Ryan couldn’t blame him. He had been lying flat on his back for the duration of their exile from normal life, and he was getting antsy. The kid normally bounced off the walls with endless energy, so this was a whole new world for both of them.

“I do too. Something good is going to happen today. I know it will.”

Ryan checked his watch. It was six AM, which was alarming. He had slept almost ten hours, which had been unheard of. He must have needed it, and he probably could have slept more, but there was no time to waste.

“You want some more oatmeal?”

Ryan fired up the lantern and took inventory of their food. There were a few packets of instant oatmeal left. It was about the only thing Ty asked for, and they’d be out in a few days. There was still plenty of peanut butter and instant coffee, and the Vienna sausages and Spam were in good shape. Canned peaches and pears would also be a good breakfast, and it was something Ty liked.

“I’m not hungry. I don’t wanna eat.” Ty’s voice was whiny and he continued to cry.

“It’ll make you feel better.”

“No!”

At least Ty had the energy to fight. Instead of dipping into their food, Ryan made a cup of instant coffee and hoped it’d be enough to hold him over until later. Unfastening the knot, he opened the metal door above them.

“I’m going back up there to get some more work done. Please call up if you need me. I’ll be back down soon.”

“Why can’t I go up there?” Ty pointed with his uninjured arm.

“That’s what I’m working on, kiddo. There aren’t any stairs for you to walk up, and I can’t carry you up with the rope I’ve been climbing with. I’ll drop you and you’ll get hurt even worse.”

“Is it going to rain again today?”

“I hope not.”

Ryan went to ground level and it was still dark out. No stars escaped from the clouds and there was no sign of the moon. The sun normally came up around seven, but the overcast sky would hinder the light from coming through. Gathering his supplies, he ventured a little farther out, hoping he’d find something useful, but came up empty. He debated on turning on his phone. Each time it powered on, it drained the battery, and since it had been off the charger for a while now, it was definitely coming down to only having it on if he was certain it’d work.

Staring down at the blank screen, he wished Cecilia’s number would flash on it and she’d be on the other end, confirming she was okay. Gripping it in his palm, he closed his eyes and cursed out loud, hoping the universe would hear his frustrations and finally work in his favor.

“Ryan!”

He heard the distant voice, a familiar voice, and opened his eyes. It was too dark to see who it was, but a man was hurrying down the driveway. Squinting, he tried to see who it was, but it was too dark.

“Ryan!” The man waved, and by his walk, he was even more familiar.

“Dad?” Was it him? Stepping in his direction, he broke out into a run, meeting him halfway between the foundation of the house and the cellar. “Dad, how in the hell?” he cut himself off.

“I started walking and didn’t stop until I got here.”

“Are you okay?” Ryan motioned toward the cellar. “I’ve got some water and food. It’s not much, but it’ll tide you over until someone comes.”

Darryl looked down at the ground and shook his head. “Are you alone? Where’s Ty? Where’s Cecilia?”

Ryan ducked his head and took a deep breath. The question felt like a wall of bricks toppling over him. “Ty is down in the cellar. He’s hurt, dad. His arm is in bad shape and he’s got a head injury. I’ve done the best I could… but, we need someone. We need a hospital.” He raked his hands through his sweaty hair. “And Cecilia is missing. I...” Ryan bit his lip to control the emotions. “She went to town the night the first big one came through. I haven’t heard or seen her since.”