They both froze, their ears straining in the darkness. Next came the screech of metal, followed by a muffled shout. “Anybody down there?”
Drew leapt to his feet, dragging Beth with him. “Yes,” he shouted. “Yes.”
Beth was trembling. Hell, he probably was, too. He wrapped his arm around her narrow waist and she curled her arms around him. Together, they faced the specter of uncertainty.
They waited for what seemed like forever but might only have been a minute or two. Thumps and curses rained down on them, along with dust particles that made them cough. The voice came again, louder this time. “Hang on.”
Beth leaned into him. “What’s taking so long?”
“I think they’re trying to move whatever has the doors stuck. It must be big.”
She murmured something under her breath.
“What?” he asked, still straining to hear what was going on up top.
“I hope the doors don’t break and whatever that is doesn’t fall and crush us in this pit.”
He chuckled, despite the tension gripping him. “An active imagination can be a curse at times.”
“Tell me about it.”
They fell silent again. All the commotion above them had ceased. Surely the rescue team had heard him shout.
Beth voiced his concern. “What if they didn’t hear you? What if they went away?”
“I don’t think they would give up without making sure no one is down here...even if they didn’t hear me.”
But doubt began to creep in. Why was nothing happening?
Beth burrowed her face into his chest. He held her close. “Don’t freak out. If they left, they’ll come back.” God, I hope so.
He checked his watch. “It’s almost nine.”
“What time did we hear the first shout?” The words were muffled.
“I’m not sure. Maybe ten minutes ago? Fifteen?”
The return of absolute silence was infinitely more difficult than if they had never received a ray of hope.
Beth was shaking.
He rubbed her back. “Hang on. We’ve made it this far.”
Suddenly, the loud racket returned, a shrill high-pitched noise that might have been a winch. Then a dreadful dragging scrape, and finally a human shout.
Seconds later the cellar doors were flung wide. The brilliant sunlight, after hours of captivity, blinded them.
A figure crouched at the opening. “Ms. Andrews? Are you down there?”
Drew shielded his eyes with his arm. “She is. And me, too. Is that you, Jed?”
The minutes that followed were chaos. Drew boosted Beth up the ladder, passing her up to helping hands, and then followed her. He grabbed his brother in a bear hug. “God, I’m so glad to see you.”
Jed’s face was grim. “You scared the hell out of me. No one had any idea where you were.” Two EMTs muscled in, checking Drew’s and Beth’s blood pressure, firing off questions, taking care of business. Drew gave a terse summation of the events that had stranded them below ground.
It was easy to see why he and Beth had been trapped. Her small car, now a mangled mess of metal, had been snatched up and dumped...right on top of the cellar.
When the immediate furor died, he searched for Beth. She had walked several hundred feet away and stood gazing at what was left of her fall pumpkin crop. Virtually nothing. The tornado had ripped across her land, decimating everything in its path.
The front left portion of her bungalow was sheared off, but two-thirds of the house remained intact.
He stood by her side. “I’ll help you with repairs.”
She turned to face him, her expression lost. “I appreciate the offer. But unless you know how to grow a pumpkin overnight, my revenue stream just vanished until June at the earliest.” She searched his face. “What did he tell you about your place?”
The day was already heating up. Beth slipped off his shirt and handed it to him. He slid his arms into it and fastened a few buttons. “I was very lucky. We lost a lot of fencing...and one outbuilding. But the staff and the horses are all safe.”
“Your house?”
“Minor stuff.”
Jed joined them. “Let’s get you two back to Willowbrook. You can shower and have a decent meal.”
Beth glanced at Drew’s brother, her eyes haunted. “Tell us about Royal. How bad is it?”
Jed hesitated.
Drew squeezed Beth’s hand. “Tell us, Jed. We’ve been imagining the worst.”
Jed’s shoulders slumped. He bent his head and stared at the ground before looking up with a grim-faced stare. “Mass destruction. The storm was an EF4. A quarter-mile wide and on the ground for twenty-two miles. The center of the storm missed Willowbrook, but it turned and traveled straight over Beth’s place and on east.”
“God help us,” Drew said. Nothing so tragic had ever touched the town of Royal. “How many dead?”
“As of this morning, the count stood at thirteen. A family of four...tourists. They took shelter beneath an overpass, but you know how dangerous that is. A young couple in a mobile home.”
Beth put her hand to her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks. “And the other seven?”
Jed’s jaw worked as if couldn’t form the words. “The town hall was destroyed.”
“Jesus.” Drew’s stomach pitched. Beth sobbed openly now.
Jed shook his head, grief on his face. “The deputy mayor is dead. Also, Craig Richardson, who owned the Double R. Plus five others who were in the building at the time.”
“And the mayor? Richard Vance?” Drew knew the man by sight and respected him.
“Life threatening injuries. But stable. I don’t have a clue about the total number injured. The hospital is overloaded but managing.”
Beth put her hand on Jed’s arm briefly, claiming his attention. “A pregnant woman. She stopped by my produce stand just before the storm hit. Do you know anything about her?”
“I’m afraid I do. We found her car late last night when we were searching for the two of you. The tornado flipped her vehicle. She has severe head injuries, so they’ve put her in a medically induced coma.”
Beth had stopped crying and now visibly pulled herself together. “And the baby?”
“Delivered
