Page 15 of Once Upon A Second Chance

For a heartbeat, the crowd stands frozen—children clutching cotton candy, midway games abandoned, the bluegrass band’s last chord hanging dissonant in the air.

Then chaos erupts.

"Everyone to the Community Center! We need to take cover in the basement!" The mayor’s voice crackles over the PA, half-drowned by another roll of thunder. "Now, now, NOW!"

Lena grabs my arm, her nails digging into my skin. "Pen—"

"Go!" I shove her toward the nearest shelter. "Get Mrs. Delaney!"

I look up and see that the sky has become a sickly greenish purple ceiling of puffy dark clouds that resemble nothing more than upside down mushrooms, swirling slowly like a malevolent force as it seems to push down from above.

I sprint against the tide of fleeting people.

The wind snatches at my clothes, whipping my ponytail sideways. Somewhere in the cacophony, a child’s terrified scream rises above the rest.

I spot little Tommy Stevens frozen near the dunk tank, his eyes wide with panic.

"Tommy!" I skid to my knees in front of him. "Where’s your mom?"

He points wordlessly toward the parking lot, where cars are gridlocked in a frantic exodus.

The air pressure drops suddenly, making my ears pop.

Then I see it.

A wide black funnel cloud churns on the horizon, chewing up trees like matchsticks.

My blood turns to ice.

A strong hand closes around my bicep. "MOVE!"

Richard.

He scoops Tommy into one arm and drags me with the other as the wind howls like a living thing. Debris pelts our backs—popcorn boxes, festival flyers, someone’s lost shoe.

The Community Center doors loom ahead, where Lena waves frantically. "HURRY!"

The world narrows to the slap of our shoes on wet pavement, Tommy’s whimpers against Richard’s shoulder, the terrifying groan of metal twisting behind us.

We’re five feet from safety when the roof of the dunk tank tears free and cartwheels across our path.

Richard shoves me forward. "GO!"

I stumble through the doors just as the sky opens in a deafening roar. The last thing I see before the doors slam shut is Richard curling his body around Tommy’s small frame as the storm swallows them both on the other side.

Darkness.

The tornado roars toward us like a freight train possessed by demons, its howling vortex tearing the air apart with a deafening, otherworldly shriek that makes speech impossible.

Then—seconds later.

A pounding at the door.

Lena and I heave it open just enough for Richard to come crashing through, Tommy still clutched to his chest. They’re both soaked, breathing hard, but alive.

The door bolts behind them as the building shudders under the storm’s fury.

In the dim emergency lighting, Richard’s eyes find mine. His hand reaches out in the darkness, fingers brushing my wrist—