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Doreen came over and collected me in a horrifying bear hug. “You did good today.” Then she dropped me back to the ground and whacked my shoulder. “I’ll lock the office. Clean-up can wait till tomorrow.”
I nodded. “Sounds good. First thing.”
She glanced back to the Jeep where Tully was throwing his bag in and carrying the box with the bird in it, and gave me a solemn nod. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”
God, same.
I didn’t know what else to say. “Hope your house is okay.”
I walked back across the street, seeing more people out now, and went into the yard.
Shane met me at the gate. “Are you leaving?”
“Yes.”
“Can we get a lift?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
Tully wouldn’t be happy, but this was not the time for pettiness.
Tully climbed in and turned the key, and sure enough, the trusty old Jeep started. “She hasn’t let me down yet,” he said, patting the steering wheel.
I opened the passenger door, took the box holding the bird off the front seat, and pulled my seat forward.
Lindsey climbed up and Tully rolled his eyes. I knew he didn’t like them, but he wouldn’t say no. People needed help, and he was the helping kind. Even if he’d threatened to punch them the day before. Shane climbed in with his camera. I pulled the seat back into place and got in.
The canopy was long gone, the inside of the Jeep was as wet and muddy as the ground, but it was working and that’s all that mattered.
We began the slow drive out.
There were trees down on the road, branches everywhere, clumps of hail against fences, debris in all shapes and sizes...
Some people were out, assessing the damage, checking on neighbours. Some houses were torn apart, some looked like a construction zone, some were gone altogether.
“Jesus Christ,” Tully said.
There were cars on their sides, some had crashed into each other like tenpins. People were standing, looking at the carnage in shock, walking around in a daze. Most of them were crying.
Powerlines were down, no traffic lights were working, water covered most parts of the roads. Businesses and shops were a mess, signs and roofs were torn off or missing completely. The entire city looked like it had been through an industrial washing machine.
I hadn’t noticed that Shane was filming as we drove. The Jeep had no roof on it, so he was getting an unimpeded view, and I didn’t even mind. This footage should be seen. The level of destruction, the damage.
If he had any way of getting this footage to the outside world, that was.
Speaking of which, I found my phone and tapped the screen. No service. No internet.
That wasn’t good.
And neither was Tully’s grip on the steering wheel. I reached over and took his arm, pulling it free so I could hold his hand. He gave me a fraught smile, and I knew it wasn’t just his family he was worried about.
This was his city.
This was his hometown. His community, his people, his friends.
And I didn’t know if he forgot that Shane and Lindsey were in the back seat, because I’d assumed he’d drop them off at the news station, but he turned off before we got into the city centre.
We were going straight to his parents’ house by the look of it, through residential streets of huge, brand-new homes strewn with more debris. He had to drive around boards and chairs and roofing iron, tree trunks snapped like matchsticks covering half the road. The once expensive estate now looked like a war zone.
