Chasing Tornadoes - Stephen Strange

Prologue

The hairs on your arms stood erect, prickling with new vivacity.

A strong current blew in from the east. Dust lifted off the ground as the howling winds agitate the tarp materials of the parasol overhead.

Euros was stirring.

You grabbed a serviette from the box next to the condiments and wiped the cucumber and mint tzatziki sauce off your lip.

Something was coming.

You could feel it in the heat of the air and the rise in humidity.

Deeming it past time that you got back, you pulled out a twenty from your purse and secured it under a salt shaker.

Beyond the city line, a green sky began to crawl outwards. Random debris started rolling down the tarred road. At first, it was only small objects. Weightless objects like cans and newspapers and runaway articles of clothing. Then it escalated to furniture grinding against the cobbled streets, reluctantly being pushed backwards.

You riffled through your bag, digging for your keys when the wind suddenly died down unexpectedly. A flash of light struck down in your peripheral and then you heard a roar that sounded like a runaway freight train.

Something was definitely coming.

The TV was relaying the latest weather report on mute. The freak weather had prompted the meteorologists to do a deep dive on the direction of air currents and possible escalations.

You set your kettle on, hand gripping your crystal necklace as you stood by your open window. Wind chimes clanking in a dissonant manner. The grey sky had blocked out the sun and a funnel began to form at the centre of a thunderstorm just beyond the horizon. The thundering shook the photo frames hanging up on the walls.

Your iguana, Spike, startled you by dropping several spice containers from your spice rack. His reptilian growl communicating his discomfort as you picked him up and cradled him against your shoulder.

"It's okay Spikey boy, it's just thunder," you observed the funnel descend further down from the sky. Chunks of debris mixing into the circulating air. "Just a thunderstorm."

You weren't sure who you were trying to console, the fat lizard straining against your arms, or yourself.

The tornado had razed through half the neighbouring farming town to the south. Your pager beeped incessantly as soon as the weather had died down. Without needing to check why, you grabbed your medical badge and called an Uber.

The hospital was abuzz, filled with the smell of antiseptic and bleach. The waiting room was packed and the PA system blared out one announcement after the other with little breathing room between sentences. Swift feet rushed from one corner to the other. The few interns and fellows you could spot inside this chaos looked worse for wear, the stress and humidity making them resemble pruned vegetables.

You walked over to reception, tapping your arm on the counter when you noticed Janice was on duty. "Hey Jan, what's the 411?"

Jan covered her headset with one hand, "Doctor on call is stuck on the other side of a collapsed bridge. Metro General is flying in some doctor to help with the relief efforts."

Could it be Christine?

You frowned, tying your untamed hair back and stowing away your bangles and necklaces. "Who's heading triage?"

Right then, two paramedics burst through the swinging doors. Janice waved her arms to keep them from stopping, "Don't bother waiting," she said. "Just head on through."