“Siena!” She called for her daughter as she opened the door to Just The Thing. A gust of wind pulled the door out of her hand and nearly tore it off the hinges.
“Mom, jeez, what the heck?” Siena emerged from the storeroom with a pile of linens in her hands.
“We need to get to shelter. Now.”
Tag ran into the store a moment later, and then they all heard a wail.
“What is that?” Siena said.
“It’s a tornado siren,” Tag replied.
He went back outside as Viv looked around the store.
“We need a basement or a cellar.”
“Hope’s restaurant has a cellar,” Siena said.
“Come on.” Viv reached out for Siena’s hand.
“But the inventory? I can’t lose it. Maybe I grab just the—”
Viv cut her off. “No, it’s just stuff. We have to go.”
Tag led the way, and all three moved down the block to Hope’s.
It was early in the day, and there was a distinct possibility that no one would even be in the restaurant. Viv sent up a prayer that they could get in. They didn’t have time for a Plan B.
That prayer was answered when Hope opened the door to the restaurant.
“Come on, hurry!”
Siena was inside, and Tag pushed Viv to follow. But she stopped, for just a second, to look back over the trees toward the lake.
Across Lake Manitou, the dark clouds had aligned. It was no longer a mass but a distinct cone.
“There it is!” she exclaimed as the cyclone twisted across the lake. She could see debris, even this far away. As it moved you could see a cloud of debris. The debris was likely homes, trees, cars, anything in its path.
“Is that Two Lakes? Or Nora House?” Viv asked, knowing no one could answer.
“We need to get in. It will be here fast,” Tag said.
“MOM!” Siena called to her.
Viv remembered the last time this happened. How a second’s delay could mean making it to safety or being whooshed up into the vortex.
As if the cyclone saw into her memory, it lurched closer. It decided to head for Irish Hills instead of into the farm fields.
Viv knew it was coming for them, straight for them. She hoped all her friends were safe. She hoped that they remembered the lessons of that summer in 1989.
There was no time to do anything but dive for the cellar now. Hope, Siena, Vivian, and Tag joined Braylon Brady and Lila in the wine cellar of Hope’s Table.
The walls were thick, which was good.This cellar has been here longer than just about anything in town, Viv thought. It had survived before. That was good.
“Come on, center wall,” Tag instructed. And they all crouched close together as the wind grew to a roar.
How fast was it moving? The dark cyclone she’d witnessed was wide. If it hit downtown Irish Hills, would they survive? Even in the cellar?
“It’s got to be here,” Hope said. Twisters plowed through and skipped up. They were capricious. Half the horror was how one house could be totaled, another spared. Viv squeezed her eyes close.
