The world's a painting of gray and green. It blurs and roars.
No Tommy. No Bethany.
I try to yell something, anything. My vocal cords have vanished. I reach out to grab something, but my arms are gone, too.
I soar through the air and the world snaps into focus.
Dark clouds roll, crowning me. I drift above a carpet of trees. The ground spreads out far below, lush and green with forest. A streak of lightning snaps to the ground ahead.
What the--
This is a dream. Has to be.
I'm passed out on that table in the park and I'm--
Twisting.
I can't see myself but I can feel it. My whole being whips and turns, stretching from the clouds to the ground. I rip ahead with the storm. Tiny trees bend down and thrash in front of me. They break like toothpicks under the foot of a giant. I sense each one that goes. Pop. Snap. Crack.
The roar intensifies. It's deafening. It shakes the world. It's all around me.
It is me.
All at once I realize what this means.
I'm--
I'm a freaking tornado.
The forest trembles. A river snakes through it, shallow and brown. Water quakes around a tree that's dead and fallen already. A curtain of rain thickens ahead. It blocks my view of whatever's in front of me.
I'll count to ten.
Then I'll wake up on the table at the park with paramedics telling me that I'm going to the hospital. Or that Dianna put something in my drink. Or that I've got a brain tumor.
One…two…three…four…
More trees snap. They don't stand a chance.
Five…six…
I grow stronger, spinning harder, ripping ahead. I can't stop. I have no control.
Seven…eight…
I'll wake any second now.
Nine…
Thunder claps. I barely hear it over myself.
Ten.
I'm still here. God.
This must have started at the open house.
What if I hurt my friends?
Killed them?
No!
I turn my attention from where I came. The park stretches out, a bare patch in the trees. It's miles away. I can make out every detail of the trail of death I've left through the woods. Trees lie in twisted heaps. Some have cracked in the middle. Others lie ripped from the ground with rings of earth around their roots.
I can't deny it anymore.
This is real, just like that scene in the barn.
That woman and the farmer guy did this to me. The woman in the white dress was the tornado who chased us. Now I'm just like her.
The rain parts, clearing my view. The forest draws a line ahead, ending a couple miles away.
If I still had a heart, it would drop out of me.
Past the edge of the woods, rooftops form patterns around curvy streets.
It's a subdivision. I'm heading straight for it.
A new terror shoots through me. No. I'm not a killer.
Wait. If that tornado that came after the van could turn like that, then so can I. Right?
The houses creep closer. On a Saturday, everyone's going to be home.
I have to try. I'll freak out about this later. Right now I need to focus.
Move, I order myself. To the side. Anything!
Closer.
Nothing. I can't turn.
Maybe I can lift up or something. I turn my focus to that, imagining it happening, but the trees keep snapping and breaking. I'm stuck for the ride. All I can do is pray that those people see me coming.
Closer.
I can make out TV dishes on rooftops.
I won't be able to live with myself for this.
Almost on the subdivision now.
A chill squeezes in, constricting the life from me. A fence slams down. A tree topples. Glass shatters.
Nononononono…
The cold comes in tighter. My consciousness wanes. Darkness creeps in and I grow weak, dying. I give in, letting darkness sweep me away from the nightmare of my new reality and the monster I've become.
Life snaps back into place and I stagger. The grass of a mowed lawn tilts underfoot. A brick wall of a house flashes in the side of my vision. I bump into a tree trunk and grab on, sucking in a breath and getting my bearings. My hands splay out on the rough bark, trembling and pale.
I'm back to human form.
I close my eyes. Distant thunder grumbles and somewhere not too far away, a siren wails.
The tree I lean against is fallen, jabbing into someone's back sliding door. Shattered glass lies everywhere on the deck. Another tree leans against the house, making a scary indent. The chain-link fence I stand near lies flat and dead on the ground, warped at freaky angles and open to the wilderness outside.
I did this.
My heart pounds and sweat gathers at the back of my neck. I actually snapped this tree and shoved it into someone’s house.
Thunder fades and the sun peeks through the thinning clouds. My shirt warms. Grows hot.
Inside the house, someone shouts. Feet thud up stairs--the basement stairs, I hope--and dark figures stand on the other side of the tree. They're staring right at me.
"Are you okay?" a man shouts from inside.
No.
I just almost killed you.
I stumble over the downed fence and run.
And run. And run.
Tall grass and shrubs slap at my jeans. Thorns seize at the fabric, grabbing, trying to slow me down. I jump over another fallen tree and bolt, following the trail I've made back towards the park.