Basically, storm chasing is not really all that dangerous, if you know what you are doing. --Charles A. Doswell III

After two uneventful miles trudging down the straight township road that intersected the rolling plains with the precision of a yardstick, an obnoxious six cylinder engine revved in the distance and disturbed the silence. A few cattle grazing in the fields pricked their ears forward as a light rain started. A '74 Black Chevy Nova crested a small hill and then accelerated, picking up speed like a bullet. Rain drops splattered her face and hands and dampened the dusty gravel road.

There's your moisture you stupid ass.

A petite blonde with colorful tattooed forearms and a heart-shaped face grinned as she pulled up beside her friend and rolled down her window. Platinum colored hair lifted in the wind and surrounded her face like spun candy as she stuck out her head. Next to her, a young man with a cap of luxurious black curls that rioted out from under a red baseball cap smiled hesitantly. His warm, intelligent brown eyes belied his obvious discomfort at seeing the larger than life ballistic female tornado chaser hitch hiking on the side of the road. Halle squinted to get a better look at him. His hawkish nose and glasses made her think of the self-important owl from the Tootsie pop commercial.

She remained still as the car fishtailed and skidded to a stop next to her. The sports car's frame quivered on top of vibrating, throaty silver exhaust pipes causing the driver to raise her voice to be heard. "Girl what are you doing in the middle of nowhere? Where's James?"

Without hesitating, the tornado chaser opened the passenger door and tossed her back pack in the back seat of the rumbling vehicle, then shimmied in behind the driver. The scent of oil and grease from a fresh engine tune up engulfed her as the car zoomed off. The driver, Amy Jarvis, a top mechanic in her father's chopper shop, who majored in auto repair, bragged there wasn't a vehicle on wheels she couldn't hot wire or fix. "He's headed back to the tornado conference in Gainesville."

Amy guffawed. "That preening idiot. I'm not surprised he bailed out of the chase. His almighty daddy runs that business. James is a tool his dad uses strictly for promotional purposes. He couldn't wrangle a tornado if it picked him up and bit him on the ass."

"He tried to kiss me."

Amy rolled her eyes. "What a jerk-ass. If his daddy wasn't Big Kahuna of the storm chasing community, he'd be valet parking cars at the Fuk Me Sushi and Seafood Buffet."

The young man in the passenger seat cleared his throat. "Actually, I was friends with James in middle school. He's not a bad guy. When I knew him, he wanted to become a fire fighter."

Both female companions absorbed this information for a full minute.

"You know James?" Amy swiveled in her seat and narrowed her hazel eyes at Naseem who nodded. "Spill."

"We were friends, but grew apart over the last few years."

Halle leaned forward and reappraised the other passenger. "Do I know you?"

Amy gestured towards the composed young man. "This is Naseem Thapar. He's making a shit ton of money from his blog, Thunder Tracker . The one showing extreme videos of bad ass weather." Amy smiled showing straight white teeth. "He's offered to manage a cutting-edge blog for us and split the proceeds. "Nasseem, this is Halle."

The young man held out his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Halle. I've seen footage you've captured of some powerful twisters. They're amazing. You could be making a big splash on social media if you let me market them."

"So far the season's been incredibly active. I've been able to get close to some F3's, but not an F5." With winds up to three hundred miles per an hour, an F5 tornado could rip shopping centers from their foundations and toss eighteen wheelers around in the air like a giant juggling Matchstick toy cars.

"With a rare shot or film footage, you could make a name for yourself." She privately acknowledged his point. If you were not already established on the You Tube platform with 1,000 subscribers or 4,000 views per an hour, it was impossible to make money.

"Witnessing a tornado's power is exhilarating, but I'm not in chasing to become famous." Her chin lifted and she were met his probing gaze. "Tornado warnings come about fifteen minutes before they make landfall—barely enough time to take shelter, let alone evacuate. I want to help scientists predict these weather events and save lives." Seeing his enthusiastic smile and his professional demeanor, she decided she liked him. "How did you meet James?"

Naseem shrugged. "He and I shared a first aid class while we were on the swim team together."

Halle tilted her head slightly. "Why don't you blog about his Weather Warriors company? They're famous."

Naseem pursed his lips. "His father chose to go with a larger social media company than mine, but earlier James wanted to venture out on his own and work with me. He doesn't like being under his father's thumb."

Halle slumped back against the leather seat. "Really? He's not trying very hard to escape from his gilded cage."

Recognizing a conversational sore point, Naseem pointed to the vibrant twilight sky. The horizon was the color of a ripe peach, shredded by angry gray clouds. " I love seeing all this crazy weather." He rdd we moved his baseball cap and ran a hand through his curls." Are we all agreed? We get some good footage in Greensboro and I market it?" Halle nodded without responding. As they drove, a faraway look settled on her face as she distanced herself from her emotions.

Amy reached down andturned on a classic rock station. "We'll be like The Three Musketeers riding into danger," she chortled.

"Impulsive and hot headed?" Naseem asked.

"No, courageous and humorous." She held up an oil-stained finger, "but not slaves to fashion."

An hour later, Halle rubbed her temple as rain drummed against her window. Storms always brought the terrible headaches. In the dark, she rubbed her cheek against the cool glass as pattering raindrops lulled her to sleep. A blinding streak of lightning followed by a sharp crack of thunder made her jump in her seat.

You're going to die.

She was five years old sitting on the family porch swing watching an angry thunderstorm roll in. Something massive roared in the distance and she leaned forward to peer into the dusky twilight. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as pressure expanded inside her head. A snaking gray vortex was headed straight for their house. The monster drilled into the ground and made a five hundred yard plume of debris as it plucked telephone poles up like toothpicks and tossed them into the air.

Halle!

She was sheltering on the porch because they had been fighting. Her mother and her new boyfriend.

Come in here! Now!

The monstrous tornado closed in on her, but she remained seated on the porch swing. She squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the tears and banish the memory of the man's face lit up in the dark by the lightning.

"There it is!" Nasseem's cry made her eyes snap open.

"What?" Disorientated, her heart thumped in her chest.

"Amy, pull over."

Total Word Count    2943