Dragon Over Washington (The Third War Of The Bir Nibaru Gods) by Bruno Flexer Page A

never been one in Owego and there won’t be one today,” Hardy growled.
    “But, maybe we should raise the tornado alarm“?”
    “We don’t have one.”
    “Yes, sir. Err -” Tom said.
    “What? Speak up, boy!”
    “They say the storm front is concentrated right above us. The sky’s clear over Endicott, Binghampton and Ithaca.”
    Hardy’s eyes narrowed. Daylight had completely disappeared and a strange kind of gray light filled the town. There was tension in the air and the world was holding its breath, waiting. Hardy saw a few children outside, gawking at the black cloud base hovering over the town like an impenetrable dome. Two women ran out, grabbed the children and dragged them inside, casting quick glances at the sky.
    Hardy watched as the last few cars on Main Street left Owego hurriedly, speeding out towards Highway 17. The trees on the sidewalk were now completely still, though they had moved gently in a weak breeze just a moment ago. People closed the shutters on their windows and locked their doors. The heavy, stifling feeling intensified. The temperature was dropping rapidly.
    “Tom!”
    The deputy had managed to retreat out of sight. Tom sighed and approached the sheriff yet again. The sheriff hesitated, something he never did. He took his pipe out of his mouth and looked at the black cloud dome, descending rapidly, as if about to crush them into pulp. It had already swallowed the top of Beacher Hill, just outside of town.
    “Get Chris on the horn. Tell him to head for cover.”
    “Cover?”
    “Tell them to get a roof over their heads.”
    “Yes, sir.” Tom hurried away. Hardy heard him pick up the police department’s radio.
    “Car 3, Car 3. Please respond.” Tom paused. There was nothing but static on the radio. “Car 3, Car 3. Please respond. Come on, Chris, I know you’re there. Pick up the goddamned mike!” Again, there was nothing but static.
    “Chris! The sheriff says to stop patrolling and head for cover, anything with a roof on. Repeat, stop the patrol -” Tom’s voice was drowned by a huge booming sound.
    Tom ducked instinctively, taking cover behind his desk. It was an incredibly loud thunderclap. Tom rose slowly. Hardy had remained standing in front of the window. Another thunderclap exploded, shaking the large glass window, cracking it. Tom grabbed his desk convulsively. The next boom shook the entire building. Tom ducked behind his desk again, watching his coffee mug fall to the floor and shatter. More thunderclaps followed while Tom huddled on the floor, his arms over his head.
    Eventually, the mind-numbing barrage stopped. Tom stood up uncertainly, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. Sheriff Hardy watched the large front windowpane of Susie’s Diner crash to the sidewalk, filling the pavement with glass shards. His eyes followed a small dust devil as it crossed the street and picked up a newspaper, making it fly like a strange fluttering bird. Tom walked over on unsteady feet and joined Hardy near the station’s window, the pipe Hardy held in his hand for once ignored. The sheriff was looking up at the black clouds above.
    The sheriff held his breath. The clouds were now moving restlessly, spinning and churning. A long, gyrating funnel was forming from the black, boiling dome hovering above the city. Then another followed, and then another. A roaring noise filled the town as several twisters touched down simultaneously. Hardy saw one wildly rotating funnel touch down somewhere near Evergreen Cemetery while another extended itself towards Marvin Park. Tom ran towards his desk. He turned just in time to see Hardy jerk in terror and move away from the window.
    A black tornado had just touched down on Main Street. Hardy cursed silently as the dark monster sucked up and spit out a large pickup truck throwing it like a toy. The black, whirling giant, now surrounded by a circling mass of debris, lightly touched a house down the street, causing the sloping roof