Page 93 of Still Afraid

Going around the little room, they each prayed.

When it was Josh’s turn, he quoted the verse he’d heard come out of Chloe’s mouth more than once. “‘When I am afraid, I put my trust in You.’”

Chloe winced as another piece of debris smacked her in the back.

“Chloe, go hide.” Aaron had to yell to be heard over the roar of the wind.

“I’m not leaving you.” Chloe worked the rope, but it was tighter than hers had been.

“I’m not worth saving.”

“Yes, you are. Now shut up.”

Chloe glanced around Aaron to where Richard had been pinned by the clothing rack. The wind was so rough he couldn’t move it off. As soon as it let up, once the tornado had passed, Chloe had no doubt he’d be able to move it, unless it had hurt him severely in the process.

Working her fingers into the knot, Chloe finally got it loose and the rope drooped. She scurried to yank it away from Aaron and the chair.

The wind velocity increased, and she felt herself being lifted upward.

“Aaron!”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. Together they dove beneath a workbench that appeared to be bolted to the floor. Wrapping their arms around the legs of the table and slamming their eyes shut, they held on as the vortex attempted to suck them into the air.

They held on as the building crashed down around them. Furniture, walls … everything swirled around and up into the sky.

Chloe kept her eyes closed and held on with all her might. Debris whipped against her skin, stinging her arms and legs. But she protected her face as best she could.

The tornado tore through the building, pulling on Chloe, demanding she let go and be tossed heavenward.

But peace reigned in her heart. A peace that, while completely inexplicable, came from the One who could command this storm. If He spoke the word, it would stop. If He commanded it to go in a particular direction, it would go. If He allowed it to take her, it would. And yet, peace overcame her heart, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she and Aaron would make it through. It was as if the very hand of God had reached down and become a barrier between them and the storm.

She heard the wind, she heard the destruction around her, but she also heard the voice of the Spirit speaking in her soul: “I am your refuge.”

While her arms held tight to the table leg, her inner being held to her Creator.

In her head, she sang an old hymn.

Rock of ages, cleft for me,

Let me hide myself in Thee …

The wind died down faster than it had come in. It still roared in the distance, but Chloe no longer felt the pull of the vortex trying to rip her from the ground.

She loosened her grip, to which her muscles protested, sore and stiff from holding so tightly.

She looked to her brother. “Aaron, are you hurt?”

He groaned but met her eyes. “I’m fine. You?”

She nodded, then turned to where Richard had been. The building no longer appeared the same. It had been completely dismantled and rearranged. She couldn’t put eyes on Richard, as debris blocked her view.

Aaron climbed out from under the table, and Chloe followed. He offered her a hand, and she took it, grateful to feel her brother’s touch. They were both still alive.

But was Richard?

Aaron tugged her into a hug instead of letting her look for Richard. Which, while she loved the embrace, made her nervous. She gave him a fierce hug but let go quickly. “Where’s Richard?”

They both started searching. Chloe also wanted to know where Richard’s gun had ended up or any of the other torture items he’d had out. Good chance they’d been picked up by the tornado and tossed who knows where.