The Resurrected Compendium Read Online Free PDF Page A

pulled up beside him. “Gotta get to Dogleg Lane, Eddie.”
    “Checking on Marnie?” Eddie nodded and stood straight to look past the detour. Then bent back to Cal. “Everything’s tore up that way, Cal, maybe if you had a four-wheel drive…”
    “The Volvo has all-wheel drive,” Abbie offered, not sure why she did. It made no-nevermind to her if they had to take the long way around.
    Cal glanced at her, then at Eddie. “How tore up?”
    “Trees down. A tractor trailer’s on its side. I can’t officially let you go this way, Cal…”
    Cal nodded. “Gotcha.”
    Then he pulled around the cop car and kept going. Another two miles down the rural highway, they saw where the tornado had torn through. Trees had been uprooted and tossed like toothpicks. The tractor trailer looked like a metal pretzel, on its side and blocking most of the road. Cal eased the car around it, tires crunching on the shattered contents of whatever had been in the trailer.
    Abbie looked out the window, saw the ditch. She wondered somewhat idly if they were going to make it, or if the Volvo was simply going to go two wheels deep into the mud. Would the car tip? Would it topple?  
    She’d braced herself without thinking, and Cal noticed. Of course. He didn’t let go of the wheel, didn’t even glance at her. He kept his eyes on the thin sliver of road between the truck and the ditch. But he noticed.
    “C’mon, now,” he murmured to the car like it was a woman. “C’mon baby. Just a little more. A little more.”
    The car inched along, tires so close to the edge Abbie couldn’t see anything of the road when she looked out her window. She kept her eyes ahead after that.
    It would be okay. Even if he rolls this car into the ditch, we’re going so slow it will be okay. The car can take it. It made it through worse than this.
    It wasn’t until all four tires were fully on the pavement again that she realized she’d been holding her breath and gripping her fists so tight she cut her palms. Cal noticed, and he reached a hand to take hers, smearing the tiny half-moons of crimson. Fingers linked. He pulled her hand to his mouth and brushed the knuckles with his lips.  
    “Okay,” he said, not a question. “You’re okay.”
    In another life, a man like this would’ve made her heart sing, but all Abbie could think was — why now? Why here? But she didn’t let go of his hand until it became apparent he needed both on the wheel in order to navigate the debris on the road.  
    They’d gone only another mile or so, creeping along at ten or fifteen miles an hour, when they reached another spot where the storm had obviously come through. Cal stopped the car and left it idling, but got out to stare out at the devastation. Abbie got out too, her steps wobbly and uncertain on the buckled concrete.
    She didn’t know much about tornados other than what she’d seen in the movies, but this looked…bad. Horrific, as a matter of fact. Her stomach tumbled.
    She’d thought there was nothing left back at the motel, but here, truly, the storm had come and taken everything. What must’ve been green fields were now nothing but torn and muddy spaces littered with debris. Dead spaces had taken the place of living.  
    “Jesus,” Cal said.
    “What was here before?” She was almost afraid to ask, afraid he’d say it was his ex’s house or something.
      Cal just shook his head and spread his fingers. “Everything. I mean…there were some houses. A convenience store.”
    They stared in silence for some long moments. The far off sound of sirens came, lifted on a breeze that sent a shudder all through her. Abbie wondered if she’d ever feel the wind again without remembering how its caress could become a punch.
    Back in the car, they drove no more than another five minutes when they found out what had happened to all the buildings.
    The tornado had lifted them, torn them to pieces, and dropped them all over the road. And not just buildings — cars,