chapter seventeen

meghan

My stomach churned with every swerve of the car as Chase drove around fallen limbs and chunk of debris. I attempted to swallow the acid in my throat, almost choking when I saw the damage to some of the houses on our way to the school; roofs missing, entire walls collapsed. I could barely make out what looked like pieces of a metal car frame wrapped around a tree.

“I can’t go this way,” Chase said, throwing the car in reverse. The road ahead was blocked by downed trees. A family stood on their porch, looking up from the shingles scattered across their yard to watch us make a three-point turn in their driveway.

It took Chase three attempts to find a side street that wasn’t blocked by trees or traffic. It looked like half the town was trying to get to the school, and there were sirens coming from every direction. Chase pulled to the side of the road, wincing as the tires rolled over a thick branch, to allow a firetruck to pass. “Follow him,” I urged.

“What?” Chase looked over with wide eyes.

“He’s making a path—go!”

“I can’t just-”

“We’re the news. They’ll see the logo and understand. Do it, Chase!”

He didn’t waste another second. Chase put the pedal to the metal to catch up to the speeding firetruck, following it past the line of cars trying to get to Grissom. “This feels wrong,” he whispered, pulling his hand from the steering wheel to wipe it on his jeans.

When Grissom Elementary came into view, I couldn’t decide whether I should feel relieved or concerned. Three-fourths of the brick building looked okay, aside from some dangling gutters. But one end of the school, where the gymnasium stood, had been completely obliterated.

I held onto the tiniest bit of hope that no students or staff were in that end of the building when the tornado hit. The roof had been wiped clean off, leaving beams of twisted metal behind. Chunks of debris were scattered all over the playground and baseball field behind the building.

The school garden, which I had reported on numerous times, was unrecognizable. The trellises were gone, and all the plants were flattened or uprooted. Everything they’d worked toward had been destroyed—but then again, that was probably the least of their worries.

“Should I go all the way up there, or—?”Chase’s knuckles were white.

We’d reached the main driveway leading up to the school, where the digital sign, which typically displayed reminders about picture days and book fairs, was shattered. There was still a line of cars in front of us trying to get to the school, but there were two police cars up ahead stopping everyone. However, all the cars made room for the firetruck in front of us. “No harm in trying, right?”

Chase nodded, gunning it to catch up to the firetruck. He stared straight ahead when we drove past the police, pretending he had the authority to be there. Disaster situations like this were often tricky to navigate. There was a fine line between informing the public and being intrusive, a boundary Xander and Jillian probably had more experience with than either of us. But there we were, arriving on the scene at the same time as the first responders.

Chase gave the emergency vehicles room, parking along the curb at the edge of the parking lot. Before I could move to gather my things, he reached toward me, his big hand closing around my wrist, gentle yet firm.

“Hey,” he said, the softness of his tone making me pause. “We could see something we don’t want to see here. Are you… going to be okay with this?”

I understood what he meant. “I just want to do my job,” I answered, though my voice trembled. “I’ll be okay.”

He gave my wrist a little squeeze before letting go. “‘Kay. Let’s do this.” We gathered our things—my notebook and Nikon, his camera and tripod—and walked up to the front of the school, where the fire chief was talking to a rattled and wide-eyed Principal Sarah Gardner. The chief’s hands were on her shoulders as he gave her instructions, and she repeatedly nodded at his words.

I’d interviewed Chief Wade Ruger more times than I could count. I was never quite sure how to take the man. He was a kind person, but he was always so serious, and often too busy to talk to me. Jillian told me she once witnessed him get a little tipsy at a gala and tell an inappropriate joke, but the man I was looking at now was all business.

“Room by room, wing by wing,” we heard him tell Sarah, “starting with the classrooms on the west side of the building, where the structure isn’t secure.” He motioned toward the lot at the other end of the school—the non-destroyed half, that is—toward the bus-loading zone. “And we’ll tape the area off to designate it as the pick-up zone. I recommend staggering the release.”

Sarah nodded again.

Beside me, Chase already had his camera out. Propping it up on his shoulder, he recorded the damage, panning over after a few seconds to show the line of parents’ cars trying to reach their children.

Chief Ruger gave Sarah some final words before sending her back inside: “You did everything right, and you kept them safe. Now let’s get them home.”

Sarah chewed on her bottom lip, nodding one last time before she pulled a walkie-talkie from her dress pocket and went back into the building to begin the evacuation process.

“Chief,” I said, planting myself in front of him before he could walk away.

He looked slightly annoyed, but he at least stopped on the pavement. His eyes shifted from me to Chase, who was pointing the camera at him now. I didn’t even have to ask—the chief knew exactly which info we wanted. “All of the children here at Grissom are unharmed, thanks to the fast thinking of their principal and staff.”

“So, there are no injuries?” Chase questioned.

Wade stared at Chase, his lips parting, and my stomach sank when more seconds passed than necessary. “I don’t have any further information at this time. Together with Principal Gardner, we’ll work on a safe evacuation for the—”

Chase pulled his face away from the camera. “You didn’t say all the staff members were unharmed.”

I inhaled when I noticed an ambulance emerging from the backside of the building, coming from the direction of the gym. When they hit the parking lot, they threw on their lights and sirens, making a beeline for the street. The ambulance turned in the direction of the hospital.

“Sir, can you confirm that at least one adult is injured?” Chase was relentless. Still recording, still giving the fire chief the staredown of his life.

But Wade, beginning to step away, just said, “I’ll have more information soon. Let us get the evacuation straightened out, alright?”

He turned around and walked away, joining some other firefighters who were preparing to enter the building. When I looked around, all I saw was chaos. Parents parking their cars on the street and running up to the school. Police radioing each other. A sheet of metal dangling from the side of the gym, looking like it would crash to the ground below at any second. A white SUV cutting across the grassy median that divided the school parking lot and the street, disregarding the police officer’s waving arms. Whoever was driving that Volvo started a trend—two, then three cars followed before the police could put a stop to it.

The white Volvo pulled up right behind the firetruck on the curb. I wasn’t sure who I expected to step out of the vehicle after all that, but Owen Gardner probably would have been my last guess. Then again, I knew exactly why he was here. His business partner was with him, and the two of them jogged up to join us on the sidewalk.

“I just saw Sarah,” I quickly said, and I could see the relief etched into Owen’s face as he bent over with his hands on his knees. “She’s okay. The kids are all safe.”

Mason, fidgeting with the buttons on his flannel shirt, looked too shaken up to even speak.

Owen straightened up, putting his hands on his head. “How did she look?”

“Sarah?” I tucked my loose hair behind my ear. “She looked a little rattled, but she’s handling it.”

Again, Owen bent over to put his hands on his knees and took a couple of slow, deep breaths. Was this guy going to throw up? “She doesn’t need this right now,” I heard him whisper. I glanced at Chase, who had been filming Owen and Mason since their arrival, and he quickly panned to the damaged end of the school instead.

Before long, kids began emerging in straight lines from the side door of the school, guided by their teachers and firefighters. They were seated in rows on the pavement, with Sarah pointing and directing everyone where to go.

“I see Finley,” Mason said, clutching his stomach. “And Kendall.”

Those must be his daughters , I thought. A second later, a teacher I recognized waved our direction, and I suddenly remembered her name—Kendall Devin. I’d interviewed her last October at the school’s fall festival. When I looked over at Mason, he was making a heart with his hands against his chest, a gesture Kendall returned.

Was he—? Were they—?

I didn’t have time to contemplate their relationship, because Chase got Mason’s attention and asked him for an interview. “As a parent of a child who goes here, would you mind sharing your thoughts right now?”

Mason seemed hesitant at first, but he ultimately agreed, nodding his head as he glanced in the direction of his daughter. I hit the record button on my phone and stood back as Mason spoke into the camera about him and Owen getting the alert on their phones, just like us. The second they heard the tornado touched down in this part of town, they hopped in Owen’s car and headed to the school.

“I broke several traffic laws to get here,” Owen interjected, standing beside Mason with his arms crossed. His eyes flashed with panic. “Um, that’s off the record.”

Chase laughed, assuring Owen he’d cut that part. Their conversation wrapped up when the kindergarteners were released to parents, and Chase filmed Mason scooping up his daughter in his arms. He hugged the teacher, too, before taking the little girl to Owen’s car.

While I got a couple of quotes from parents waiting their turn to pick up their kids, Chase set up his camera on the tripod and connected with the studio to do a live report—which was somewhat rare for him. He seamlessly switched into newscaster mode, highlighting the efforts of Principal Gardner, the Grissom staff, and the first responders for keeping the kids safe. I noticed the careful way he mentioned he was still waiting on an update from Chief Ruger regarding the staff and other adults in the building. “But stay tuned to WWTV, as Jillian will have the full report tonight.”

I’d been watching him so closely, I almost forgot I’d been talking to a mom who’d just spelled her name for me. I was going to have to ask her to do it a second time.

Later, I sat on the curb, crafting up a quick post for social media, promising a more detailed report on the website later. We probably had hours of work ahead of us. I sent Graham a quick text to check in and took time to gloat to Xander that I’d beat him to breaking news.

Xander: I’ve been getting minute-by-minute updates from my source at the school this entire time. With permission to use her photos of the damage from the inside. Nice try, though.

Of course. I should’ve known he would have checked on Abigail by now, and she was giving him firsthand details.“Motherf—”