Tornado Warning by J.R. Tate Page B

house.” It was a fat chance. Fox Lake was out of the way from where she was going.
    “We’ll figure something out.”
    Ryan grabbed the rope. “I’m gonna go for a little walk. I’ve been wanting to go out in my pasture and see if there’s anything in the debris that might be useful but haven’t wanted to get too far away from Ty. I won’t be gone long.”
    “Be careful. I don’t have to tell you about watching for storms.”
    Ryan patted him on the shoulder and went to ground level. He wanted to look for supplies, but he also wanted to be alone for a while to gather his thoughts. They couldn’t just sit around any longer. With word from his dad on the current situation, the only thing they were doing by waiting was dying slowly. He couldn’t sit around and watch Ty be in pain any longer, and he couldn’t speculate about where Cecilia might be.
    When he went back down into the cellar, Darryl was busy cleaning Ty’s arm. The boy was cringing and his eyes were closed, but he was standing strong and taking it like a man. His father was better at the medical stuff – his years of doctoring animals on the farm probably helped with the experience. Ryan watched for a few seconds, feeling more comfortable about his decision after seeing how well his father was doing with Ty. He was a man Ryan could trust, which was the last ingredient he needed in his plan to try and make something happen.
    Darryl looked up as he finished with the bandage. “I didn’t see you standing there. How long have you been there?”
    “Not long. How’d you get him to relax?”
    Darryl pulled a silver flask from his pocket. “The wonders of whiskey.”
    “You didn’t...” Ryan cocked his head to the side.
    “No, I didn’t, but I did use some of it to help clean the wound. Instant numbing effect. Seemed to work on him. Your boy is gonna be a whiskey drinker.” Darryl laughed and tossed the dirty bandages aside. Standing, he pushed the flask against Ryan’s chest. “Take a drink.”
    “Nah, I’m good.”
    “It’ll relax you. I’m not saying get trashed on it. It’s for medicinal purposes.”
    Ryan unscrewed the lid and took a swig. It was strong and burned, but he savored the taste. He gave it back to his dad. “I’m going to go get some help tomorrow.”
    Darryl arched his eyebrow and took a pull from the flask before putting it back in his pocket. “You sure about that?”
    Ryan glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “There’s no other option. Ty is hurting. He’s going to lose that arm and more. You said so yourself. It’s infected. And his head...” Ryan stood strong. “I gotta find Cecilia. If I stay here, we’re gonna die. We can’t just keep hoping someone will come. It’ll be too late if we go off of that alone.”
    Darryl nodded as they both looked at Ty. “I’m not going to try and talk you out of it. I walked over here.”
    “And I’m glad you did, otherwise, I would have to stay here and wait it out. I trust you enough to leave Ty with you so I can do this.”
    “You trust me? It’s nice to hear that since we haven’t been on the best terms the last few years.”
    Ryan blinked back the warmth in his eyes. “When I get back with help, we can discuss all of that. But right now, I need to get some rest. I’d like to be positive and say I’ll find someone out there fast, but we know the truth.”
    “It’s okay to be a realist. Get some sleep, son.”
    After checking on Ty one last time and pulling the blankets up around him, Ryan turned off the lanterns, secured the rope that held the door in place, said one last good night to his dad, and laid down on his lawn chair. Sleep didn’t come. He needed rest, but with all of his worries, he thought about different scenarios, and how he’d take it if Cecilia was really dead.
    He’d be devastated, and it wouldn’t be good for Ty’s health. What if they never got closure with her? The storm was big enough to send his house flying, leaving no