Hands retreated from covering up my eyes. What was in front of me was unbelievable. After two years of work finally the greatest tornado studying machine had been built, by us. A smile grew on my face. I couldn't believe it. This wasn't happening. Its metal structure, the high tech wires inside, it was all unreal.
"Take a look inside." Max said. The doors slid open with a screech and revealed a huge space full of computers and many different sized wires. Two leather seats were inside on opposite sides of the vehicle; one in front of the steering wheel and one which rotated to move around the computers. Next to the computers were an array of buttons, all different colors and lighting up here and there. The windows above were triple-paned, to avoid any rocks or objects crashing through, and were see-though for when you were inside a tornado. I grabbed onto the edges of the car and felt its metal. So sturdy and built for winds up to 260 mph. It felt cool and smooth under my hands.
It stuck out in our run-down-rusty-old garage. The metallic blue shone brightly verses the charred yellow walls. I pulled myself out.
"This isn't happening is it?" I exclaimed in excitement. Max nodded. We hugged quickly, and detached as not to make it awkward. "This is going to be the best tornado season ever!"
He laughed, "It's all you've ever dreamed of, isn't it?" I shook my head, and he frowned.
"It's all we've ever dreamed of, even more maybe. I - I, just hope my mom is proud of me right now." My mom was storm chaser just like me, but she was killed during a hunt. The tornado shifted on her without warning, and she was hit by a rock in the head. The force was so powerful it dented her skull and she died one day later. I was four when it happened. When I think about it I can see the gray swirling beast heading straight towards her and her eyes wide with terror. It still makes me want to cry every time.
Max changed the subject, quickly because he knew what I meant. He was the only one who had been chasing tornadoes with me since the beginning, well there's also Daniella.
"Let's go show Olivia and the others." I nodded. He left to go get the other five of the team. I stroked my hand again across the metal. All our hard work paid off, our reward was the greatest thing I could ever ask for.
Daniella, Max, and I had been chasing since 2009. We started off with recording the tornadoes, where they happened, lives lost, and what they were rated on the Fujita scale, a scale to measure a tornadoes wind speed and damage. Daniella was the one who finally decided we needed to do more. She's my best friend, next to Max. We all liked the idea and got to work.
After a year of gathering donations we finally earned enough money to build the "Texas28" or at least that's what I wanted to call it, Daniella wants to call it "Twister2". When the time came to start construction we had two new members, Jack and Olivia. Jack and Max began to work on the vehicle after Daniella, Olivia, and I had finished the blue prints. Jack and Max decided they needed more help if we were to get it done by 2012, so we hired Tyler and Steven. Soon they all got busy. All of the boys were broad and strong. Each of them had the same kind of hair, but different colors, they all had different eyes, Max with his hazel eyes and golden brown hair and Jack with his deep brown eyes and matching hair. Then you had Tyler and Steven with similar light blonde hair, but Tyler with his green eyes and Steven with his blue. They were like brothers, they helped each other, were there for each other and everything. Once they started the girls and I began getting more donations to get more equipment for the vehicles and cameras.
My deep thought was interrupted by Olivia squealing with joy. Her face was lit up like a Christmas tree. Daniella's, well Daniella's was hilarious. She had a face combined with shock, excitement, and overall happiness; it was hard to see though, through the bush of deep smooth brown stuff she calls hair. It looked as though her face and been distorted. We all shared the same dream.
