Part 2 (2/2)

He shrugged. ”Not exactly sure. Just a feeling I get. In my gut. In my spine. I just . . . know.”

”Wow.” She focused back on the road. She couldn't remember a time that she hadn't had a good time with Max. Other than the Sweetheart Dance in high school, and the double date with Dillon and Abigail, and the time they'd tried to watch Pride and Prejudice together on the couch.

”Wow, what?” he asked.

”That's amazing.”

He paused and then asked, ”You believe me?”

She looked at him. ”Why wouldn't I believe you?”

”It just . . . sounds kind of weird. That I can predict the weather. Doesn't it?”

”Maybe.” She thought about that. ”I guess I just know you too well to doubt you.”

”What's that mean?”

”I don't think you've ever told me anything that wasn't true,” she said. And she meant it. She couldn't think of a single time. Maybe when he said he was fine after a long hike or after he'd landed in the field after skydiving that first time. She knew his knee bothered him, and had ever since he'd injured it during the cleanup efforts in Louisiana after Hurricane Katrina hit, but they never talked about it. It was the one topic that seemed off-limits. And to Max, ”fine” was being able to move himself from one point to another without a.s.sistance. So technically, he'd been fine.

Max didn't respond to that, and they both focused back on the clouds. The rain was coming harder as they drove closer, but Bree knew that behind the rain was the real threat.

”Okay . . . there.” Max turned onto old Highway 36. It was a two-lane paved road with paved shoulders, unlike the gravel they'd been on before. But the new Highway 36 had been built ten years ago, leaving this one far less traveled.

”Is that the wall cloud?” she asked, peering out her window.

”Yeah. And see the beaver's tail?” he asked, referring to the tail of the cloud behind the area of precipitation. He slowed down so they could both watch.

”Yep.”

”We'll head closer and see if we can spot anything coming down.”

She nodded.

Bree could feel her heart pounding and her blood pumping through her veins. She felt like her body was humming and wasn't sure she was completely touching her seat. She could feel it. Maybe because Max had said it, and she believed anything Max told her, but she really thought she could feel the storm coming, the energy swirling around in those clouds, gathering power.

She hated tornadoes. Cerebrally. She knew they were destructive and unpredictable. But she loved this building antic.i.p.ation. It was like riding up the incline on the roller coaster, knowing eventually you were going to tip over the top and go careening down the other side.

The tornado would be the careening part.

And honestly, she loved that part, too.

Within reason, of course.

”Hey.” She looked around. She didn't drive out this way very often. ”We're, what, about seven miles out of town?”

Max nodded. ”That's probably about right.”

”And we're west.”

”Yep.”

She looked over at him. ”That means that if it does turn into a tornado, it's heading for Chance.”

He gave her a grim look. ”Right.”

”Oh.”

Why hadn't that occurred to her before? Holy c.r.a.p. She hadn't really put it all together. With the excitement of the chase and the interest in what she was learning, she'd distanced the storm from the town, she supposed.

”Hey,” Max said.

She looked at him again.

”That's why we're out here. That's why we do this.”

She knew that. Of course. Storm spotters were vital to public safety. She, and everyone who had ever lived through a tornado, was grateful for the warnings and information that allowed them to get to shelter and be safe.

But . . .

”You really think this is going to turn into a twister?” she asked.

Instead of answering, Max said, ”What do you feel?”

Dammit. She felt it. The power, the energy, churning and swirling up there. She nodded. ”Yeah. I feel it.”

Max just nodded.

”Dammit.”

”It will-Sonofab.i.t.c.h.” Max cranked the wheel and pulled over to an abrupt stop on the shoulder of the road.

She looked from him to the cloud. And saw what had caused his reaction a millisecond before he said simply, ”Funnel.”

He threw his door open and held up his phone. She knew he had better equipment, but this would do. He started filming as Bree fumbled for her phone. She needed to call Avery and Chief Mitch.e.l.l, Bree's boss.

Bree dialed Avery's number, but it rang four times before going to voice mail.

”Dammit.” She dialed the chief next and put him on speakerphone. He answered on the third ring. ”Chief, I'm out with Max.”

”There's a funnel forming five miles southwest. No touchdown yet, but we need to get people moving,” Max reported.

”Got it. Thanks,” Wes Mitch.e.l.l said. ”Where are you?”

”Seven miles out. West of town. We have a view of the storm from here, but we're going to get closer, try to see what's coming.”

”Radar is showing some rotation,” Wes said. ”And we've got hail.”

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