.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

━ PROLOGUE  ━
❝ PATH OF DESTRUCTION ❞

✭・.・✫ ・.・✭

IN THE HEART OF ARKANSAS, in a tiny, faded map spot town, eighteen year-old Jessica Ward and her father, Jonathan, walked into a gas station located just off the local interstate.

The air inside the store was thick and seemed to carry a heavy, stagnant warmth similar to the unusual April heat outside. The lone air conditioner in the corner struggled to keep up, its low hum barely cutting through the oppressive heat. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting a harsh glare over the dusty shelves lined with snacks and automotive supplies. Near the counter, an old TV mounted high up on the wall flickered with a grainy image of the local news. The newscaster, barely audible over the low hum of the AC, reported a tornado watch—an update that had been a regular feature for days. The screen was a swirl of storm clouds and urgent graphics that went fuzzy intermittently, but the two other locals who shuffled around the store paid little attention. To them, the threat was just another part of life in their small town.

"You want somethin' to eat, Jess?" Jonathan asked once they were inside, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his flannel shirt as he looked around at the shelves of snacks and other items.

His daughter peered through the aisles with disinterest. "No. I ain't hungry," Jess replied, toying with a lens cap of the camera that hung around her neck. She popped it on and off with a flick of her thumb, uncapping and then recapping it lethargically. Her face was the picture of boredom. "What are you gettin'?"

"Coffee," her dad answered shortly, making a leisurely walk back to the drink machines. He reached for one of the styrofoam cups sitting on the side and selected the option with the most caffeine in it. The dark liquid steamed as it dribbled down from the nozzle, warming his hands through the flimsy material. Jess sidled up beside him, leaning her weight against his arm while he looked for a lid.

"Looks good. I think I'll get some too," she commented, ignoring the odd look it earned her. She grabbed her own cup regardless and began to fill it up.

Her dad leaned against the counter. "It's noon," he reminded, lightly blowing on the steaming liquid before taking a tentative sip. "And you're eighteen."

"Which is exactly why I'm gonna to drink it. Because in the fine state of Arkansas, I am an adult," Jess added with a flourish. When the machine was done pumping out the coffee, she capped it and took a defiant sip. "And last time I checked, you are also drinkin' coffee at twelve o'clock in the afternoon."

Jonathan couldn't help but crack a smile, hidden by the lid of his coffee cup. "That's because I'm old and senile. This coffee is the only thing keepin' me from keelin' over right on the spot."

"Don't worry, I know CPR."

"Great. Glad I can trust you with my life," he said sarcastically. The pair walked go back through the store slowly, occasionally stopping to look at things on the shelves and ultimately taking their time to get up to the checkout counter. "Hey, since you're such an adult, why don't you use your adult money and go pay for these."

Jess patted her sides, miming a search for a wallet perhaps, but when she came up empty handed, she sucked air through her teeth apologetically. "Shit. Sorry, I just forgot: I don't carry cash."

Her father snorted. "Figures."

Once at the counter, Jonathan showed the attendant the two cups of coffee in their hands and while she rang them up, he rifled through his pockets for his wallet. Jess lingered behind him, humming a song he didn't recognize and sifting through the gum section below the counter. Boredom was radiating off of her the way that it constantly did from teenagers. She leaned forward, impatient.

"I'm gonna to wait outside," she told him, already taking steps backwards towards the door while she waited on a response.

Her dad sent a small sideways glance in her direction and nodded. "Okay—but no wanderin'."

"No promises," Jess called over her shoulder. The bell jangled with her departure as she walked outside, met with the sticky humidity that seemed to hang in the air like a heavy, invisible blanket. The sky was a churn of dark, roiling clouds, and the horizon was a smudged gray, signaling the approach of a storm. The temperature was stifling, making each breath feel thick and labored as if she were inhaling the steam from a boiling pot. She took a few steps forward, feeling the sweat trickle down her back, and pulled her sweatshirt away from her damp skin in a futile attempt to cool off.

Jess strolled the length of the parking lot, past her father's pickup and to a small rest area beside the station. It let out into a long field of yellowing grass, dotted with a few trees and sparse shrubbery, but was otherwise empty. She perched herself on top of an old, wooden picnic table not too far from the parking lot and set her coffee down, letting her legs dangle over the side of the table to rest on the bench.

The overcast sky drew a muted light over the field, the gray clouds hanging heavy and low enough to touch. The wind picked up, scattering dead leaves across the grass and blowing Jess's hair back from her face. Her gaze traveled upwards, watching the way the clouds slouched across the sky sluggishly, moving at their own pace. They looked like any other storm cloud she'd seen, but the skin on the back of her neck prickled with apprehension. 

"Whatcha doin', kid?"

Jess turned around to face her father, who had walked down the sidewalk behind her and now stood with his coffee cup in one hand and the truck keys in the other. She cast a glance over her shoulder at the field and the windy sky, but ultimately shook her head, the uneasiness fading.

"Nothin',"Jess replied with a quick shake of her head. She retrieved her coffee cup from the picnic table and then she joined her dad on the walk back to the truck. "Just looking at the clouds."

Jonathan chuckled, amused. "You're my kid for sure." Jess smiled, proud to be able make her dad laugh.

Right before they reached the pickup, Jonathan paused, thought for a moment, before he tossed the keys over the hood to Jess, who caught them deftly in her free hand. She glanced up at him, brows raised quizzically. "Why don't you drive for a while, so I can stretch out these old legs of mine."

Excitement lit up Jess's face as she turned the keys over in her hand. It wasn't very often she got to drive her dad's truck. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yeah, why not," he said with a smile, leaning against the vehicle. "Just don't go tearing up the road. I just replaced her shocks."

Jess grinned and ran around to the driver's side to open the door. She slid into the seat, the familiar scent of old leather and gasoline greeting her. She shed the sweatshirt she was wearing and threw it into the back, where a duffel bag and backpack with a softball bat attached to it, laid strewn across the seat. The engine roared to life with a reassuring rumble as she turned the key in the ignition and once her dad was inside, she carefully eased the truck into reverse and rolled out of the parking lot with little difficulty.

Once they were back on the road, Jess cranked the windows down and let the air sweep into the cab, her hair dancing on the wind. Some rain escaped into the truck, splashing the pair, but neither noticed, her father included, so the windows stayed down. The feeling of driving the truck was exhilarating. Jess pressed down on the gas with her foot and the pickup sped up, the arrow on the speedometer ticking just past what the current speed limit was supposed to be.

"Easy, Jess," Jonathan said, shaking his head at his daughter. He was white-knuckling the arm rest, pale.

Jess laughed and she reached over to turn up the radio. 'Sweet Child O' Mine' by Guns N' Roses blared from the speakers, the bass thumping, shaking the interior of the truck. Jess sang along, her voice rising above the music, though not quite entirely on pitch. Jonathan couldn't help but smile despite his nerves. The road stretched out ahead, broken up only by the occasional traffic sign or exit that was just as deserted as the rest of the highway.

"How much farther 'til we get home?" Jess eventually asked, having to raise her voice over to be heard over the tune of the song.

"What?"

"I said—oh, never mind." She grudgingly turned the radio down to an acceptable volume, and Jonathan sighed in relief. "I said, how much farther 'til we get home?"

"It's not too much farther," her dad responded, making an educated guess. He tapped his fingers against his knee, thinking. "Maybe ten miles?"

Jess nodded. The energy dipped slightly in the car, but not uncomfortably; if anything, it was the opposite. They both sang along, or hummed, the parts they knew of the songs playing, occasionally sipping coffee or cutting in to make conversation. At some point, they ran out of things to say, so they let the discussion fizzle out into a relaxed silence. Jess drove quietly, her fingers gently tapping against the wheel while they put the gas station in the rear view mirror. Once they were a few miles out, Jonathan looked out the window and began to watch the scenery pass by. His eyes slowly started to drift shut and he let them, lulled into a doze by the gentle rock of the truck's wheels against pavement.

"Oh my God!"

Jess gasped, suddenly, her eyes glued to the window rather than the road. The truck swerved to the right, just over the white line, but Jonathan grabbed the wheel and yanked them back in the middle before the vehicle could careen into the ditch. He was sweating and alarmed, his face growing red with anger.

"Jesus Christ, Jess! What are you tryin' to do, kill us?" He cried furiously. Startled, Jess gripped the wheel tightly with both hands and only then did her dad let go. Jonathan leaned back in his seat and expelled a frustrated breath. "Damn it, girl, you're gonna put me into an early grave, I swear."

Shame pooled in the pit of Jess stomach like a heavy stone. Her hands trembled on the wheel as she glanced at her father, who was now staring out the window with a mixture of disbelief and worry.

"Sorry, Dad," she muttered, her voice barely audible. She chewed the inside of her cheek, wondering if she should even both sharing what she'd noticed. It was killing her not to. "I just—just look."

She pointed out the window to the left side of the road, where a sprawling cornfield was unfurling alongside the pavement. There wasn't much to look at considering there wasn't any corn being grown at the time, but behind it was the real show. The sky was a deep gray, nearly black, illuminating by streaks of purple and white lightning that crackled through the ominous expanse. Towering above the cornfield was a massive cloud, its dark, roiling base stretching across the horizon. The top of the cloud soared high into the stratosphere, a colossal, billowing anvil building with each passing minute. As the wind picked up, the edges churned and twisted, casting an eerie shadow over the barren cornfield below. It was fucking amazing.

For the first time she'd seen in her eighteen years of life, Jonathan Ward was at a loss for words. He opened his mouth, then closed it, pursing his lips together like he was waiting for the right thing to say to come to mind. Jess had slowed the truck's speed to a measly fifteen miles an hour, and was glancing anxiously between the road, the storm, and her dad. But not because she was scared.

"Can we stop? Please?" She begged. Her hand was resting on the camera in the middle seat, itching to scoop it up and dash out of the car.

Her dad blinked, finally snapping out of his thoughts. "I don't know, Jess...I think it's best we keep goin'. It ain't safe."

"Seriously?" She protested. "I ain't ever seen one like this in person. It might be the only chance I get."

Her father glanced at the storm raging outside, then back at her determined face, and that's when he seemed to give in. He sighed deeply, begrudgingly, then nodded. "Alright, fine. But only for a few minutes. And no wanderin', you hear me?"

Jess's eyes lit up as she quickly maneuvered the truck to the side of the road. The vehicle had barely been put in park before she threw the driver's side door open and hopped out into the storm, camera in hand. She clambered down into the ditch and up the other side, boots slick with mud as she raced through the dirt looking for the best shot.

"I said no wanderin'!" Jonathan called after her, seizing the keys out of the ignition and hurrying to follow his wild-child of a daughter into the field. "Are you listenin' to me?"

Jess's laugh rang out across the cornfield, somehow louder than the thunder rolling in the near distance. "And I said no promises!" She yelled back over her shoulder.

As she ran farther out into the cornfield, the ground became progressively wetter and harder to get through without slipping or falling flat on her ass, so Jess came to a halt and began to impatiently strip off her boots and socks. The wet dirt squished between her toes and clung to her skin, but she reveled in the feeling; that, and the exhilaration caught in her chest.

"Jessica Ward, you put those shoes back on this instant," she heard her dad shout from the truck. She stopped long enough to throw roguish grin in his direction, wiggling her feet in the mud as if to add insult to injury. "You lil' shit. Your mama's gonna kill both of us if you catch a cold."

"She'll get over it!"

Jess carefully removed the lens cap and adjusted the settings on the Nikon through the view finder, the storm coming in and out of focus as she twisted the zoom ring to the left and right. A brutish wind whipped across the cornfield, rustling the weeds and kicking up dirt into Jess's face. She couldn't find it in herself to care, caught up in the world past her lens. The storm was both breathtaking and terrifying, a mix that sent adrenaline coursing through her veins the same way she imagined the view from the top of a rollercoaster would be. Jess snapped several pictures of the storm cloud from different angles, even going as far as to kneel, then lay down in the mud to get the perfect shot. Her clothes were dirty and sopping wet, but she was happier than ever.

She ambled back to the truck slowly, stopping every couple of yards to check if the view was any different, until she was only a few feet from the road and the truck. Her dad was leaned against the hood of the Ford, a proud smile on his face. Jess raised her camera to her eyes and snapped a picture of him just like that. When he noticed his picture being taken, he made a funny face to the camera, sticking his tongue out and crossing his eyes in a way that made Jess belly laugh. She just barely managed to take the picture, laughing even harder when the photo showed up in the camera roll.

"Here. Let me take your picture," Her dad said once they'd caught their breath, offering to take the device. Jess dropped it into his hands and shuffled back far enough that he could squeeze both herself and the storm into the photo. The camera shuttered and flashed, immortalizing her forever in that field, barefoot, muddy, and ecstatic.

The rain, which had been surprisingly light until that point, suddenly intensified, coming down in a heavy blow. Jess let out a screechy laugh, running to take her Nikon back as her clothes were soaked through. Water rolled down her neck and face in thick rivulets, following the curve of her eyes, lips, and nose until droplets dripped over her chin. Jess hunched over her camera as to keep it from getting any more wet.

"Hey, Dad, can you get the umbrella out of the truck?" She asked, without looking up. She scrolled through the pictures she'd already taken, waiting for a response, but she received none. "Dad?"

Jess looked up and found her father standing unnervingly still, staring at something far out in the field. He had an odd expression on his face, one that made her stomach drop out. When she, too, gazed across the cornfield, she at first saw nothing. The storm cloud was harder to see in the rain now, but it still loomed overhead in all of it's terrifying glory, dark and brooding. The rest of the area was the same, if not waterlogged. Just when she was starting to think that her father had some screws loose, she saw it. The grass, being so flimsy, bent and swayed wildly in every direction, but periodically, almost rhythmically, it pulsated, sending ripples across the field. It was like the storm itself was breathing. Inhale, exhale, drawing in and expelling out laborious breaths across the countryside.

A shrill sound cut through the bated silence, causing both of them to start. Jonathan pulled out his phone, the origin of the noise, his hands shaking as he read the message that had popped on the screen.

National Weather Service:
TORNADO WARNING
effective in this area until 2:30 CST.

SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER

Jess noticed the look on her dad's face and her heart plummeted. She scrambled for her own phone in her pocket, her hands sliding uselessly against the case as she struggled to read the message for herself. Terror washed over her in that moment, colder than the rain on her back.

Her voice shook. "Dad?"

"Jess, get in the car." Jonathan Ward's voice was deathly calm, and firm in a way she had never heard before. Fear clutched at her heart, but she didn't move.

In the distance, almost too quiet to hear beyond the rain and thunder, came the sound of a tornado siren, it's mournful wail cutting through the tempest like a ghostly cry for help. Jess couldn't move, her body frozen as if the terror had seeped into her very bones. She spun on her heel to face the far side of the field, where the clouds were seething, twisting and mashing together until a shape appeared amongst the squall. A funnel cloud.

"Jess, go! NOW!" Jonathan Ward's booming voice startled his daughter out of her stupor,  and she turned to make a sprint for the truck, mud coating the back of her bare calves. Her camera thumped against her chest like a second heartbeat, its strap digging into her shoulders. Rain pelted her face, stinging her eyes and blurring her vision, but she kept running, driven by the urgency in her father's voice and her own self preservation. Jess reached the truck, wrenching the door open and sliding into the passenger seat with trembling hands. Jonathan was already in the driver's side, his face pale but resolute as he threw the truck in reverse and peeled off so fast the tires left scorch marks onto the concrete.

The pickup came to a screeching halt only long enough for her dad to make a sharp U-turn, and in that time, Jess was able to glimpse the funnel touch down in the center of the cornfield. It tore into the ground, tossing broken earth and debris up into the air, like God's hand was reaching down from the heavens to ravage the landscape. Jess shrank back from the glass, terrified, but unable to tear her eyes away. Panic surged through her veins as she realized the twister was veering towards the road, chewing up chunks of pavement out of the ground and spitting them out.

"Dad...!" She cried, her voice shrill.

Jonathan didn't respond. He floored the gas and the Ford roared to life, the engine screaming in protest as the truck accelerated down the deserted highway. Jess watched as the speed rise on the speedometer, 80...85...90...100 and climbing, until her dad couldn't press down any harder. It wasn't any match for the tornado.

Antagonizing winds caught the truck by the tail end and the vehicle spun out, turning a near 360 degrees and before it was pitched to the side like it weighed nothing. Jonathan tried to regain control, but the steering wheel was ripped from his hands and the truck fishtailed across the road. Time seemed to slow as the tires lost contact with the ground, and the vehicle tipped precariously onto its side. Jess screamed, her heart in her throat, as the truck flipped, tumbling like a toy in the storm's relentless grip.

With a bone-rattling crash, the Ford slammed into the dirt, rolling over and over, the world outside a blur of earth and sky. Glass shattered, and the metal groaned under the pressure of the tornado's fury before, finally, the truck landed with a thud, wheels skyward.

Jess couldn't breathe. Her chest was pinned between the seat and the dashboard, crushing her lungs to the point where she couldn't draw in a breath.
"Daddy..." she whimpered as the smoke cleared from the cab. Her face was bloody and tear-stained, and she couldn't feel her legs. For a moment, she wasn't eighteen anymore, but a scared little girl looking for her father's comfort. Jonathan Ward coughed, blood on his lips, struggling to reach for his daughter.

"It's okay, Jessie," he said weakly. Outside, the wind howled like a freight train barreling down the tracks and the truck rattled as the twister clawed it's way back. Jonathan just looked at Jess and his fingers closed around hers. "Just hold on, baby."

Just hold on.