Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Icy raindrops pelted my cheeks as I slogged forward, fighting the wind with every step. Up ahead, shutters slammed against windows, the harried clack, clack, clack mocking my snail’s pace. I persevered, drawing from a surprise reservoir of strength, reaching the chapel’s doorway. The squall intensified until it sounded as though a train barreled in my direction.
Heart thudding, I chanced a glance over my shoulder. My eyes widened. A massive cyclone aimed straight for me, gobbling up everything in its path. Electrical poles. Road signs. Even buildings.
Forget finding a cellar. I raced deeper inside, determined to dive into the nearest closet or bathroom.
The floor shook with great force, sending me tumbling to my knees. Glass shattered, shards flying in every direction. Go, go, go! I crawled forward.
With a great lurch, the entire structure spun like a top. Around and around I twirled, pitched this way and that, thumping into pews. Sharp pains tore through different parts of me, one after the other. My lungs emptied. Something warm and wet dripped into my eyes.
Desperate, I dove for a door. A heavy wooden podium slammed into my torso, knocking me backward and pinning my arm against a wall. Agony consumed me, detonating a piercing scream.
Darkness flooded my mind, and I willingly floated into the abyss.
CHAPTER 2
COUNCIL OF NONE
Moaning, I cracked open my eyes. Sunlight greeted me with a too bright hello, searing my irises. I squeezed my lids shut. An excess of aches registered, and I winced. What…why…?
The answers came in a rush. The tornado. The chapel. Spinning and spinning. Frantic to view the damage, I blinked rapidly. As soon as I adjusted to the brightness, I clambered to an upright position. My aches intensified, but I didn’t care. I rallied the stamina to remain upright without vomiting and examined my surroundings.
Oh, sweet goodness. Utter destruction. Everything was in shambles. Pews were upturned and in pieces. Shards of broken glass littered a floor with dozens of missing wood planks. Pipes were exposed, busted, and leaking. The front door had been ripped off its hinges and now lay in two pieces on the other side of the room. Branches of various sizes were scattered about. The door of my truck wedged inside an empty refrigerator.
Streaks of something wet and red marred the space around me. I frowned. Blood?
I looked myself over and jolted. Oh yeah. Blood smeared my skin and dampened my clothing, courtesy of a multitude of stinging gashes. Nothing appeared too serious, except my poor, mangled left wrist. No bone protruded, but it must be broken. My hand hung at an odd angle.
I tried to move the appendage and hissed. Flashing stars consumed my vision, dizziness took over my head, and nausea filled my stomach. Okay, so, my wrist was definitely broken. No wonder the injury throbbed so intently.
Ugh. I wouldn’t be drawing, my only source of solace, anytime soon. But whatever. I’d deal. I could still use a phone, and that was all I needed to do right now. Speak with my dad and make sure he was all right.
Except. My phone. It wasn’t in my coat pocket. Dang it! The device must have fallen out while the tornado beat me to oblivion.
Guess my best bet was to start walking. Surely I’d come upon a disaster relief team, searching for survivors. If not a team, a good samaritan. Someone would let me use their phone and give me a ride.
The sooner I got started, the better. I wasn’t sure how much energy remained in my battery.
Ignoring my worsening sickness, I clutched my injured wrist to my chest, lumbered to unsteady feet, and tripped toward the exit. Along the way, I passed a broken mirror. Enough glass remained to reveal my condition. Tendrils of dark hair had pulled from the confines of my pigtails, showcasing an angry cut on my brow. Hazel eyes glazed with discomfort. Crimson spots stained my ripped dress. Even the silver slippers had taken a beating, many of the sequins missing.
I stumbled outside. Sunlight glowed, and a warm breeze wafted, reminding me of a perfect summer morning.
Summer? I skidded to a halt, frowned. What had happened to the bite of winter?
Confusion hammered me as I looked around. This wasn’t the chapel’s parking lot. Or any place I recognized. A vibrant field of colorful hydrangeas, peonies, and tulips encircled me. Their sweet scents saturated my shallow inhalations. Behind the exquisite garden, a row of cherry blossoms and wisteria formed arching walkways that led to rolling hills covered in creeping red thyme. Bees and butterflies danced in the air.
I gasped when multiple flowers straightened by the stem, opened their petals, revealing teeth-like edges, and chomped on the insects.
Okay, I must be hallucinating. Guess I needed medical assistance for a concussion as well as a broken wrist. I cringed. Considering I had no insurance, I might be better off doctoring myself at the farm.