Hannah's heart raced. She turned to Cliff, "Didn't you pay attention to the weather report today?"
"No. Did you?"
"No."
The sky hanging over the valley was bright and blue. The sky behind her, in the direction of the parking lot looked as if it was ushering in the end of the world. From horizon to horizon a black, churning shelf cloud advanced threatening to overtake and consume them. Filaments of lightning danced within the morass.
They were standing in the open on the highest point around, but what terrified her most was the rotation she was seeing bearing down on them.
The first thunderclap startled her into action. "We need to get out of here!"
"Back to the car," Cliff said. "Run!"
They started, but Hannah yelled, "The picnic basket." She couldn't abandon it.
"Leave it."
"We can't. It was my grandmother's and is a family heirloom."
Cliff grumbled something unintelligible, went back, and grabbed the basket. They hurried onto the trail and under cover beneath the trees.
A wall of wind blasted the trees at first hissing then roaring. Sheets of rain assaulted them mixed with hail pummeling the overhead branches, breaking them, showering them down onto their heads.
Hannah screamed and stopped, panicking, thinking she was going to die.
Cliff grabbed her hand and pointed. He shouted, "Over there."
He led her to a large, old, uprooted tree, its tangled root mass providing a modest canopy above a shallow depression where it had ripped out of the forest floor.
"Lie down," he shouted.
She hesitated. The depression was a muddy hole.
"Come on," Cliff yelled.
She crawled in, tight as she could against the root ball. Cliff joined her, wrapping his arms around her.
All around them tree limbs cracked and crashed down. The deafening roar of wind sounded like a locomotive. When the ground beneath her began to vibrate, Hannah could no longer bear it. She squeezed her eyes shut, covered both ears with her hands, and buried her face against Cliff's chest.
She was convinced they were about to die.
Hannah wasn't sure how long they remained there, but in time, she sensed a change in the air pressure. The hail had stopped but it still rained, gentler now. The wind had become less forceful.
With his arm around her, Cliff was stroking her back.
"It's passing," she mumbled.
"I think we should wait here a while longer," he responded.
A few minutes later, the rain ceased but droplets continued to drip from the leaves above. Hannah crawled from the depression and stood. She inspected herself.
"Ew." She was covered in mud. It pasted hair to her face and was caked to her shoes and clothes. As she swiped the worst of it from her arms and legs, she said, "Cliff, are you okay?"
He knelt in the muddy depression, leaning against the tree roots. "I don't know."
Hannah studied him. "What's wrong?"
"Something hit me on the head. I think it was a falling branch. I'm kinda dizzy." He tried standing but slumped back to his knees. He rubbed his hand across the back of his head and looked. "No blood. I'll be okay."
She bent over and ran her hand over his head. "You're not okay. You've got a good-sized goose egg. Let me help you." She took him under his arm and helped him up.
Cliff closed his eyes and took a breath. "Give me a moment."
He looked like he might fall over, so she draped one of his arms around her shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist. "I'll help you walk."
Together, they slowly made their way back to the parking lot. Cliff's Corvette was the only car remaining, and by some miracle it was untouched and intact. Hannah was certain a twister had touched down not far from them. They had been very lucky to have not been in its direct path.
She opened the driver's side door for him. "We're caked in mud and will ruin your interior."
"I can have the car detailed. We should go, but Hannah, I'm going to need you to drive. I'm seeing double."
What he said scared her. "Cliff, you need to go the hospital. You got whacked hard and probably have a concussion."
It scared her even more when he didn't try to put up a fight. She led him around the car and into the passenger seat. When Hannah took her place behind the wheel, she studied all the intimidating knobs and switches. "Cliff, how do I drive this thing?"
He had trouble keeping his eyes open. "Like any other car. Press the ignition switch and shift it into drive. You don't have to use the paddle shifters."
The car started and she drove them down the road. She glanced his way. "Cliff, open your eyes." She remembered something about keeping concussion victims from sleeping.
"I can't. When I open my eyes it makes me feel like I have to throw up."
Hannah knew she wouldn't be able to stop him from sleeping. She thought about blasting some music but didn't want to take her eyes from the road to fiddle with the sound system. The best she could do would be to keep him talking and get him to the hospital as quickly as possible.
Suddenly, she realized she had no idea how to get back to town. "Help me set your navigation system."
"I can't. I'm seeing double."
She pulled over. I don't know where to go."
Cliff seemed to have trouble concentrating. He pointed to a button on the overhead console. "The car is equipped with SkyLink. Press the button and you'll be connected to a live human who will give you turn by turn directions to the hospital."
She did as instructed and felt immense relief to hear a man's voice asking how he could help. She explained the situation. In a calm voice, he served as her navigator out of the mountains and back to town.
Hannah tried to keep Cliff talking. "This is the worst date ever. Do you feel the same?"
"I'm sorry, Hannah, I should have listened to the weather report."
"Who knew? The day started out so nice."
"That picnic basket kept the water out. The sandwiches didn't get wet. I checked."
She scoffed. "Typical guy, thinking about food at a time like this."
"Not food," he slurred. "You. We almost kissed...again...and we we're interrupted...again."
Hannah giggled. "Maybe next time."
"I hope so," he said. Then Hannah couldn't get him to talk anymore.
When she arrived at the hospital, she drove directly beneath the emergency intake canopy and parked in front of the sign reading: Ambulances Only.
A guard burst through the double doors. "Hey, lady, you can't park here."
"Help me," she said while opening Cliff's door.
A few minutes later, a team of orderlies arrived and lifted Cliff onto the gurney.
He was breathing, but they couldn't get him to wake up.
Have you ever been caught unaware by a bad storm?