With No Warning (Romance/Inspirational)(Complete)

CHAPTER 1: Wet Streets and Tornado Alleys

~ CHAPTER 1: Wet Streets and Tornado Alleys~

A raging torrent was what some would have called this level of precipitation.  Actually, in the last few minutes, the downpour had easily surpassed any whimsical label.  What Dakota Winslow did know was that she would rather be curled up in a comfortable chair with a book than trying to drive in this wet insanity.  As if heeding those thoughts, the noisy drum of raindrops on the windshield dwindled to a smattering patter, then, finally, ceased altogether.

       The wipers, however, continued their furious rhythm, until after several shell shocked moments, she moved a shaky hand from its rigamortis like grip on the steering wheel, to the control, switching them off. As her foot depressed the accelerator with renewed confidence, and her rapid heartbeat slowly leveled, she bleakly noticed that a fine mist was again coating the glass from clear to opaque, slowly obscuring her vision once more. Reaching out, without taking her eyes from the road, she made the necessary adjustment to the wipers. The resuming swish from left to right was thankfully sluggish compared to the brisk tempo of the minutes preceding.

        With her brows still furrowed in a frown that hadn’t yet relaxed with her breathing, she nervously watched the wet, double lane highway and eyed the sky, mentally calculating the distance to the next town, her destination. The sky was still dark, but directly beneath the darkness, it seemed to be clearing. Continuing to peer through the windshield, she reached to her door and pressed the automatic window controls slightly, cracking the glass on each side of the car an inch or so. The stuffiness was suddenly nearing unbearable, and she briefly considered the air conditioner in lieu of the windows.

      The road sign ahead depicted that she was nearly at the end of her three hour route, and almost immediately following the mile marker, a tall bright convenience store sign came into view. The thought of a cool beverage trickling down her parched throat eased the pressure of her foot from the gas, and impulsively she arced her car into the asphalt lot. The drizzle was getting heavier as she parked, and the rain was falling again, in full force, by the time she let the foggy, plate glass door swish shut behind her. Her searching gaze surveyed the stores interior, locating the cooler at the rear of the store, and as she moved in that direction, she mentally debated between a juice, or a fountain soft drink. With a twist of her head, and a road weary smile, she acknowledged the middle aged, clerk behind the register.

      “Some nasty weather we’re having,” The clerk commented in greeting, as he steadily stocked the cigarette rack above his head.

        With an answering grimace, she moved her head in a nod of agreement, but before she could verbalize it, the door flew open behind her with a loud whoosh. The newcomer turned back, fighting with the fury of the wind to yank the door closed behind him.

        “Are you listening to the weather Bernie?” The man asked, as the door at last settled against it’s jamb. Wayward strands of moisture darkened hair dripped onto his shoulders, and his tanned face glistened damply. Unconsciously, Dakota’s fingers went to her own hair, knowing her appearance must be in similar disarray.

       I have it on, but I’ve been in the storeroom.” The clerk’s answer was voiced, as Dakota resumed her weave to the cooler on the back wall. The lights flickered, and a peculiar sensation infiltrated every cell of her body. Nervously, she scanned the beverage labels, keeping her ears tuned to the conversation at the front of the store.

         “...county road is completely flooded...bridge may wash away again...” The crackle of a scanner station struggling to hold its frequency joined their voices.

     As she mentally settled on her drink choice, the odd sensation remained. A feeling of disembodiment prevailed as she saw, rather than felt, her hand on the chrome handle, and the feeling only intensified during the next seconds.