Tom sat in his truck, rolling the empty antidepressant bottle between his fingers. The constant hum of tires rolling along the interstate calmed his mind. He closed his eyes and let his head tilt back against the headrest. Sleep crept in, carried by the warm wind that swept through the cab. The breeze turned icy as an alert chimed on his phone.

A shiver ran through him as he rubbed the slumber from his eyes. A marathon of disconnected thoughts resumed their course through his mind. When he raised the phone and read the notification, his mind fell silent. He turned his head and looked north, where the clear blue overhead melted into a black cavern.

“Jesus Christ.”

The weather radar app showed a massive storm system moving toward the town of Fenton. A large swath of southwestern Oklahoma sat under a myriad of watches and warnings. What stood out were areas of rotation, sections of the system that threatened to spawn tornadoes. He zeroed in on the closest to his location, no more than ten miles from where he sat.

“To hell with it.”

Tom keyed the engine, dropped the transmission into drive, and pulled onto U.S. 283 north. A few cars passed him as they headed south, their headlights shining and wipers furiously moving side to side. He pressed on, eyes flicking from the sky to the road ahead and back. His stomach dropped when he noticed that all oncoming traffic had disappeared. The tall grass along the road, which had been waving wildly, suddenly stood as unmoving as tombstones.

He eased his truck onto the shoulder. His gaze remained fixed skyward. The door creaked open and he stepped onto the cracked blacktop. A car blasted past him, horn blaring. Despite the sudden shock, Tom’s concentration held.

His chest loosened. The static in his head faded. No guilt. No panic. No replaying conversations from three days ago.

A silence set in, one that seemed to swallow every sound for miles. For a moment, everything inside him went still. He tilted his head up and closed his eyes as the corners of his mouth curved up. He stood like that for half a minute when the sound of a racing engine snapped him back.

High beams and hazard lights cut through the blackness. He watched a sedan speed past, its windshield cracked and shattered. Dumbfounded, Tom looked around at the emptiness around him, akin to a video game where the environment failed to render. A gray haze appeared in the distance, accompanied by a sound like falling rain. Within seconds, it swelled into an amplified drumroll.

“Shit!”

Tom dove into the cab of his truck just as the first hailstones smashed down around him. A cacophony of ice crashing into glass and steel drove him to cover his ears. He laid across the seat, hands pressed against his head, as the truck rocked from the barrage. The swaying soon calmed, leaving only the ringing quiet and the rapid thumping of his heart. With one hand against the dash and the other pressing into the seat, he pushed himself up and stared out through his ruined windshield.

He ran a hand through his hair as laughter bubbled up in his chest. Guffaws erupted, his chest rising and falling until tears fell from his eyes. As his last chuckle faded, his breath caught in his chest. He stepped back out onto the road as a distant rumble grew into a roar. The peace had gone; now, he was frantic.

His eyes scanned the horizon, desperate to find the source of the sound but unable to in the inky dark.

“Oh my god.”

A hand covered his mouth when he finally laid eyes on a massive tornado moving west toward the highway, maybe a mile from where he stood. He knew that if the behemoth turned south, he wouldn’t have time to escape. The thought should have terrified him. Instead, he couldn’t look away.

Sparks flew as it tore through the power lines that ran along the road. His stupor finally broke, and he jumped back into his truck. He slammed the door and stomped the gas, fishtailing as he turned and headed south.