“I can’t leave. I need your help. Please, just come away from the beach so we can talk.”
He ignored me to stare into the face of the storm. With the waves crashing in my ears, coupled with the deafening roar of the wind and the sand blasting my skin, I felt as though the storm would tear me apart.
Fear trembled through my veins as I watched the waves tower over us, some the height of two-story buildings, and beyond them, the greenish-gray sky loomed. I could distinctly make out the shape of a funnel cloud, an enormous dark gray block against the lighter gray sky. The wind ripped past with a fury so strong it nearly knocked me over as I trudged toward Zack. Cold water splashed my ankles, then my calves and thighs as I struggled forward.
I refused to let him go this way. Zack was right—I’d never failed to cure a client, and I damn well wouldn’t let it happen now.
A wave rose over us, so tall it blocked out the sky. As it crested, my mind went blank, absorbed by fear.
Water crashed around us, so cold it stole my breath. The current tugged me under. The salt-saturated liquid filled my lungs, burning my throat, and stinging my eyes. Brown, silt-laden darkness surrounded me. My ears popped as they filled with water. I kicked for the surface when the wave retreated, leaving me and Mr. Zimmerman alone on the beach. As I sat up, I choked on the water, and then took several deep breaths. Mr. Zimmerman sputtered and coughed as he lay on the sand.
Shivering, I crawled toward him and grabbed his arm, then tugged him upright. His eyes were wide and filled with fear. Perhaps the rogue wave had been his wake-up call.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re getting to my car. This is insane.”
“No, I won’t go.” But he didn’t sound as determined as earlier, so I managed to get him in a standing position and tug him to my car. Thankfully, I’d parked far enough away that the water hadn’t reached it yet.
I opened the passenger side door and shoved him in. The wind was so strong it nearly tore the door from its hinges, and it took several tries for me to slam it shut. After I walked around the car and attempted to open the driver’s side door, I briefly glanced at the sky. Palm fronds and plastic bags whipped through the air. Beyond the debris, the tornado took up half the sky.
After yanking my door open, I slid onto the seat, then slammed the door shut behind me. With shaking hands, I cranked the car, but only the rumble under the seats told me the engine had ignited as the raging roar of the wind drowned out any other sounds.
As I backed the car off the beach, Zack kept his hands tucked in his lap as he rocked back and forth, his eyes unmoving from the sky. He looked on the verge of bolting out the door to face the storm once again, but Heaven help me, I refused to let him do it.
“Stay with me, Zack. We’re going to take shelter in the gas station. You’ve got to pull through this, okay?”
He mumbled something, but I couldn’t understand the words.
Hailstones pelted the car’s windshield, small at first, but growing larger as we neared the gas station. I parked the car in front of the store, then killed the engine. The clatter of the ice pellets echoed through the car. Zack remained motionless in his seat. With the haunted look in his eyes, he seemed close to a nervous breakdown.
“We’ve got to get inside,” I yelled.
He buried his head in his hands. “No,” he moaned. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Just follow me. We’ll do this together.”
He looked up, his face filled with rage. “Why are you even trying to help? I’m this way because of you. You deserve to die with me!”
His words stung, but I tried not to let it show. “Please try to understand, I wish I could have helped you sooner, but I didn’t know how. Now, I think I may know how to help you. Just come inside the store with me. That’s all I’m asking.”
He sat for a moment longer, seemingly mulling over my words, and then he grabbed the door handle and flung it open. I followed him outside. Hailstones pummeled my head and neck, making me sprint to the double glass doors and fling them open. Zack stayed behind me as we darted inside the gas station.
The door slammed behind us. Inside, two women huddled behind the counter. Zack and I headed for the hiding place as the hailstones pelted the glass windows, fracturing them. The sound of cracking glass mingled with the roar of the wind.
“Mind if we hide with you?” I shouted over the noise.
“Go ahead for now, but we’ll be moving into the bathroom if it gets any worse,” one of the women answered. “And pray we survive.”
Zack and I ducked behind the counter, leaving me with a partial view of the world outside. Several palm trees surrounded the station and the road across the street, and the wind battered them, tearing off entire sections that got sucked into the storm. Streetlights illuminated the pitch-colored sky in pools of hazy orange. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen the sky so dark during daytime.
The sound of the wind changed in intensity, from a high-pitched wail to a low, deafening howl—the characteristic sound of a freight train.
“It’s coming,” Zack said beside me.
“In here,” one of the women said as she unlocked a bathroom. We crammed inside as she shut the door behind us. We huddled near the sink, and although I was indoors, I wasn’t sure the thin layer of boards and roof shingles would be enough to protect us from the mammoth tornado I’d seen over the
