The Pale Man Rises

CHAPTER FOUR

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Realizing that it was to late to take his father's place Clay did as he had ordered and dashed off toward the ditch. Once he was there he slipped down the embankment on his side and eased himself into the dark flux of water. Rearing his head now he peered over the obstacle of the wooden bridge and looked at the ominous onset of the tornado. It was bearing down on the house and it was only a matter of minutes before it droned from the forest and consumed the house and possibly his naive loving parents.

He bowed his head and began to pray for their deliverance and his redemption. Soon a surge of air pushed his hood back exposing his face to the force of the powerful wind. The hood flapped wildly about him. He raised his head once again and saw the tornado was still coming. It seemed as if it was edging left and right like the wipers on a car windshield. The funnel was pulsing all along its bluster swelling and narrowing all at once.

The tumult and splintering of wood grew ever louder, ever frightening, but the funnel appeared to be changing its path with a distinct move eastward. Now it appeared it would not strike the house unless the base of it were so great it would engulf all before it for many yards east to west.

As it bore down on the farm the roar became so intense and the swirl of the wind so terrific that he could no longer watch this monster spawned by nature as it closed in on him.

He dipped lower in the ditch, the rushing water was in his face the force of the wind having reversed its flow. The hood of the raincoat flapped wildly whipping his pained cheeks. He raised his arms and crossed them over his head. He began to pray out loud as he waited for what the dark specter would do.

Suddenly the horrific noise was upon him and a swoosh of wind tore him from his position and 

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drove him backward into the ditch as if he was a diver performing a reverse dive after he was already in the pool.

He splashed into the depths of the water. Momentarily he rose up quickly and out of the water shaking all over as though he was a dog that had just been dunked. He fell backward again suddenly finding himself lying on the western bank of the ditch. He could see the funnel cloud in the east churning through the pasture the flourish of the giant oak tree as the dark evil encompassed it.

Now there was a great rending noise and then the cloud moved on. But the funnel cloud did not snare the tree and carry it along with it, but rather left it lying there like a warrior defeated in battle and awaiting the inevitable grasp of death.