Half an hour later, they were passing through Matenea, Missouri, and Angela listened to the voices in her head as the wind pushed them along, little black balls of hail (acid balls) pinging off their roofs and hoods.
"I think we should take cover."
"What's...? Oh, shit! Stay on my ass!"
Angela spotted the funnel cloud by following his line of sight and for a second, couldn't move. The twister wasn't very wide, but it was moving incredibly fast and closing in, like it had sensed the presence of humans and dropped out of the sky - just for them.
"Come on!"
His shout startled her, Dog's piercing bark through the radio breaking her daze, and Angela hit the gas, heart pounding. It was a real tornado and moving their way!
"Thought this only happened in the movies," she whispered, scared as she caught up to Marc's bumper, but the raw fury of something they had no chance of controlling was beautiful too, and Angela knew she would never forget it if they got away.
Marc turned them into a large, mostly empty parking lot, speeding up. When he sent his Blazer crashing through the front glass windows of the theater, plastic and glass flying, she followed.
Behind them, the tornado churned across the small city, smashing through anything in its way as it headed for the enemy: Man.
"Get as far in as you can!"
Angela swerved in next to him, lobby props tumbling, and they both ducked down as the tornado hit the theater.
The building shuddered, and both Blazers lunged forward with the wind, bashing into the concession stand's high wall. Glass sprayed as the display shelves caved in, large chunks of debris banging off them as the roar grew louder.
A blast of straight-line winds swept through the cinema on the twister's heels, grabbing and spinning Angela's Blazer in dizzying circles before shoving it into a line of heavy arcade machines. Marc watched helplessly as the big games were sent flying into the air and each other from the hard impact, glass and coins erupting like tiny, silver volcanoes.
Bouncing back with a jarring thud, her muddy Blazer slid the length of the lobby before coming to a tire-squealing halt just inches from his front bumper.
A second later, it was over except for the rain, and Marc was scrambling over wet debris to open her door, help her out. "Are you hurt? Are you all right?"
"I don't remember asking for the tour," she joked breathlessly, eyes wide, and he grinned at her.