Twister Terror by Anne Shillolo

Author:Anne Shillolo [Shillolo, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-31T16:00:00+00:00

21

Kyle asked Catriona where she wanted to start. I had to pay attention. I was pretty sure this was going to involve some driving and navigating for me.

Cat replied, "Well, I'm assuming that people are still in shelters. Before I see them, I'd like to get an update on the situation at the site, interview anyone out there working on the cleanup, maybe get an idea of when people whose homes are still standing can get back."

I asked, "So if I go out there? Are they going to let me in?"

Kyle shrugged and said, "I'm not sure. Give it a try. Oh, and here, you might be wanting this."

She took back her phone with a smile and we headed out.

I drove in past the old stone Whitewoods gates, still standing and surrounded by the remains of a spring garden. I felt sick at the thought that we were getting closer and closer to where Alex had perished. But I knew we had to see in broad daylight what the storm had done, and what the city and other agencies had accomplished in response.

From the few files we’d looked at back at the station, I knew the armed forces had been called in to assist. Search and rescue dogs had been on the scene, and miraculously casualties had been limited. The tornado had claimed 11 lives with another 70 or 80 victims still in hospital.

Huge Caterpillar loaders were hard at work, plowing debris off the streets. They used the buckets to scoop tree trunks, hunks of metal and parts of roofs and place them in piles.

I parked the Jeep and we got out. Catriona wanted to interview people about the progress so far and plans for the days ahead, and within seconds her presence was drawing the people who might have the answers. Or maybe escort us back out onto the city streets.

Several police officers approached, and she waved and said, "Good morning." The dozer driver hopped down and brought his cup of coffee. Two others, a man and woman carrying electronic equipment, also looked on curiously. One carried a laptop and the other was burdened with a large rectangular case.

"Miss, you'll have to go. The area is closed to the public," said one officer predictably.

Without saying no, Catriona turned on her phone camera and launched into her questions. What work was happening today? When would people be able to get back into their homes? If they recognized her, they didn't let on. One of the cops, a middle-aged man with bristly gray hair, agreed to speak for the camera. The others looked as though they couldn't decide if they were jealous or critical of his boldness.

The technicians wandered a bit closer and Catriona drew them into the shot. "Excuse me. Could you tell me what your equipment is for?"

The officer spoke up. "Mass spectrometer. Cynthia, you can take it from there," he said with a chuckle.

Cynthia, who was a young Asian woman with short streaked hair that she kept pushing off her forehead, smiled and said.

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