The Tempest by A.J. Scudiere (best books to read in your 20s .txt) đź“•
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- Author: A.J. Scudiere
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“Kevin!”
“Peter!”
“Wendy!” she heard as she headed into the flimsy shelter of the tent.
“Joule! Deveron!”
It surprised Joule to realize that she had an emotional reaction to each name. Though she was no fan of Peter’s, she was glad he'd been checked off.
As she moved around to sneak a peek at Chithra’s clipboard, the woman turned the other direction inadvertently cutting her off. So Joule tried again, but Chithra’s constant effort to scan a moving crowd meant Joule couldn’t get a read on the list.
When she turned again and caught Joule’s questioning gaze, Joule simply asked, “Cage?”
But Chithra just narrowed her eyes and didn't even have to glance at the list. She knew everyone going by. And she shook her head at Joule. “Not yet.”
21
The thundering noise made Cage look up.
He saw it looming above the trees, even as he heard the siren sound on the bull horn click off, replaced only by Radnor’s quiet, “Oh crap.”
In the distance hovered the wide, dark gray funnel. The sound was something between a grind and constant thunder as it plowed toward them. Cage imagined it scrubbing the earth as it went, just like the clean line through the gravel drive, but this time maybe even miles wide.
Radnor, having found his senses, this time merely yelled, “RUN!”
His breathing stopped, but Cage didn't need to be told twice. He quickly found himself in the middle of a chain, all four of them having locked hands without thinking about it. It was probably a horrible idea, but none of them were letting go. He, Leah, Micah, and Izzy were all running together as a single unit. When Leah stumbled, Cage and Izzy—on either side of her—yanked at her hands, pulling her back up.
As she mumbled, “Thank you,” Cage thought that maybe they’d dislocated her shoulder. But a dislocated shoulder would be the least of their worries if the tornado caught them.
The funnel seemed to have stopped moving and hovered in the distance. Or plausibly, it was like watching another airplane from your airplane window. If it didn't appear to move in space, it meant the two were on a collision course.
Maybe no matter where he ran, he was on an inevitable course with this funnel. If the one he'd seen before was an F1, then this was nothing of the sort. This was not the F2 of Horton or the one from Arab. This was their own whirling, screaming monster.
Though his mind told him in the end he’d find out the beast was only an F2 or F3, right now he was confident it was a seven or an eight and that the Fujita scale would rework their numbers because of this one.
As they approached the middle of the field, he finally spotted movement on the other side. He couldn’t hear it, but he saw as cars revved and turned, pulling out of their spots and peeling away from the lot. He watched ahead, still running, still hoping his foot placement was solid, because he wasn't looking at his feet. As far as he could tell, neither were the rest of them. His feet pounded the earth and he thought just keep going just keep going.
He spotted Sarah's blue car as she backed up then slammed it into gear. As she pulled away from him, Cage could see Joule’s face in the rear seat, her hands flat against the glass as Sarah drove away.
Thoughts moved rapid-fire through his brain. Were they leaving without him?
It didn't matter. It was best that they were safe. And he could ride with Leah or Micah or with any of them. No one would refuse him a seat in their car.
It was best that Sarah and Joule were getting away, because this time when he looked up the monster was closer.
Wider.
Darker.
Angrier.
The four of them were flat out bolting now, free-range running for their lives. Behind him, Radnor brought up the rear of the small fleeing crowd, and Cage had no doubt the man was identifying every employee. His harried voice was still calling out instructions. “Get in your cars and drive away! Don't drive into it. Go north! Go north!”
There was a pause, a new set of directions. “If you can't get in a car, get in a ditch. Hold on to something buried deep—a tree or a pipe. Strap yourself to it if you can.”
The words were broken up by his heavy breaths as Radnor worked furiously to save everyone. He left the bullhorn turned on and maybe mistakenly broadcasted his encouragement and directions each time he found someone. “Get up. Get up, Jason … Come on.”
Cage breathed only a little easier knowing that Radnor was gathering the fallen.
As they approached the edge of the parking lot, Cage again spotted Joule through the back window of Sarah's car. Why weren’t they gone?
His sister’s hands were waving frantically, pointing at him, and he realized they weren’t going to leave without him. He would have waved them on, but he was so close. They'd lined the car up, and now Sarah slammed it into reverse, aiming directly toward him. Gravel spewed as the bright blue bumper came directly at him and the others.
His heart thumped as he dropped their hands, moving the last few feet and closing the distance. In no time at all, he was peeling open the back door and climbing in, pulling Izzy on top of him. Micah and Leah both refused, yelling into the high winds that they had other rides, that the others were waiting for them.
“Go!” Sarah yelled at them, her own window down, her hand motioning them as she watched to be sure they made it to the other cars. The wind whipped through her hair and all around her, stealing her words. In fact, Cage wasn't sure if he'd actually heard her voice, or just seen her mouth move.
But Leah and Micah were off in two different directions. In a moment, they had both climbed into other,
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