Author's note: Back story and character development time! The title of this chapter is a reference to a quote from Twister.
Chapter 7: The Metaphor of Chasing Tornadoes
The three vehicles edged their way out of the field and approached the highway. Another vehicle was making its way up the road, so Flynn stopped to wait for it to pass before pulling out. As it approached, the team realized that it was the black truck that the Stabbingtons had been driving. Their rip-off instrument canister stood upright in the back of the truck. The vehicle slowed to a crawl and the window rolled down.
The doors to the Barn Burner and the unicorn truck opened, and the burly chasers piled out, pointing and jeering. "Ha ha!" Hook said. "Who's the extreme loser now, suckers?"
"Yeah, were you trying to catch that tornado?" Bignose chortled. "It went that way—oh, oops, it's lifted now! Sucks to be you!"
"And the Extreme got a direct impact!" said Vladimir, gesturing to the dirt-covered Mustang. "Losers!"
The black truck stopped, and the two thugs got out. Edvard was holding a video camera. They both stared angrily at the gleeful chase team.
"Nice nose," Flynn called to Gudric as he got out of his car. He opened Rapunzel's door and brought her out, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her back against his chest. It wasn't a sign of affection for her, he told himself. It was just a way to demonstrate to the Stabbingtons that he was so awesome that he could turn up with a hot girl even after he was abducted and chased into a swamp. He felt her breath catch in her chest as he gripped her and tried not to think about that.
"You think this is it?" Gudric snarled. "We'll be the ones laughing this time tomorrow, Rider, because we're gonna get the deployment first." He turned to his brother. "That's all we need. Let's get the fuck out of here and leave these scum to their laughter." They stormed back into the truck, slammed the door, and drove off in fury.
Once they were gone, Rapunzel turned to Flynn. "Okay," she said with a contemplative frown, "I get that you and those guys really don't like each other. They're the ones who tried to kill you, aren't they?" He nodded, and she continued. "Well, I was wondering why. Why the enmity?"
"You know that thing in the back of their truck? Take a look in Vlad's truck."
She glanced at the unicorn truck. "It looks like the same kind of thing."
"It is. They stole my design and got a company interested in it, telling them it was theirs. They have a contract, which is contingent on their device working today."
"But it's your design! That's got to be illegal!"
"Yeah, it is, but the lab doesn't really have the resources to fight a lawsuit against a wealthy corporation with lots of lawyers, which is what it would take if their contract got finalized. It's better if we deploy and set the record straight in the media. The company will probably renege on the contract then."
"So this has never been done before? Deploying something like that into a tornado?"
"Not directly."
"And we're trying to do it today. I'm going to be here for something historic! Wow."
He grinned. "Yeah, wow."
"Hey, Rider," Hook called out. "Sorry to break up this cozy moment—"
"I was just explaining to her about the Stabbingtons," Flynn objected hotly.
"Right," Hook said smugly. "Whatever ya say. The point is, we need to decide what we're going to do next."
The team then gathered together to plot their course. According to Flynn—and confirmed by the mobile radar—the storm that had produced the tornado was weakening and was not likely to put out another one. Flynn pulled out his cell phone and looked at long-range official radar. "Hey," he said, holding the phone out to the rest of the team, "there are some new storms out farther east that look good. Want to aim for one of these?"
Attila frowned. "They'll probably go over the water by the time we get there."
"It'll definitely be a close call," Hook agreed, "but you know what else is out that way, Attila?"
"The city? I would've thought you'd want to avoid that."
"Your mama."
"Hey, watch it—oh, yeah, I get it. Yeah, she's out there."
Flynn laughed at Attila's slowness on the uptake. "I don't know, guys. We probably shouldn't pile in on her." He didn't want to bring up the fact that he didn't like her cooking very much and liked her even less.
"Well, unless anyone has a better idea for food," Bignose said.
"There's nothing out here but that sleazy motel, and the only food worth eating there is bar food," Hook said.
"Yeah, and there are some convenience stores around the other side of the swamp, but it won't be any better there," Bignose added.
"Exactly. I can't think of any better place to eat than Katrina's house," Hook said. "What do you think, Ulf?"
The strange silent chaser nodded in assent.
"Yeah, we know where Attila gets his cooking skills from," Vladimir said, thumping Attila on the back.
"So, we shoot for those cells, and then we head for Katrina's?" Hook said.
"Yup."
As they headed east, Rapunzel was gradually coming down from her adrenaline high. Instead she wanted to discuss her bizarre past. It was as if after revealing her big secret—that she had never left her cabin—she needed to explain the rest of it.
Flynn found that he did not really want to hear it. He was acutely aware now of the scene that he had put on for the other chasers before the Stabbingtons turned up, as well as what it implied, and it set his nerves on edge to think about it. If the concept of having male friends he could depend on frightened him, the thought of a girlfriend left him reeling in terror. He didn't want to feel anything for her. He tried to focus instead on the box of weather sensors in his trunk, and what that would mean for his future. He wanted the lab. He wanted to run this place that dedicated itself to the study of severe weather, because the symbolism of that was so appealing to him. Mastery of the weather. It was the only way he figured he could ever make peace with his past. And the first step now was getting back in the lab. A country girl who lived with a crazy mother had no part in that. Her idea did, but that was it. He'd use it and be done with her. He had to think this way. Besides, Rapunzel wasn't interested in him either. She was only interested in getting a rush out of nature and seeing something that she'd been dreaming about for years. He was just a tool she was using for that purpose. She'd been more than ready to ditch him back at the field when she thought he was going to wimp out. He was no more to her than she was to him. She isn't anything else to me, damn it, he thought. He tried to ignore the way her breath had caught when he held her.
It was difficult to think this way, however, when Rapunzel was pouring out her heart to him. As Flynn has guessed back at the cabin, the craziness ran deep, and the more he heard of this, the more compassion he felt for her. He was also pretty sure that there was now a bit more than just compassion and sympathy.
"She makes me sing for her every day," Rapunzel was saying, staring at him with wide green eyes. "Is that normal?"
"No," he said automatically. "It's not."
"I didn't think it was," she muttered. "And another thing. You know the medicine I gave you?"
"Yeah. That was good stuff."
She grinned. "It is good stuff. It seems to heal pretty much everything. And I make it. There is this one houseplant that makes big yellow flowers, and I make it out of them. It's funny, though. It changes my hair."
"Yeah, I was wondering about that," he said. "I assume it's never been cut?"
"Not properly cut, no. I keep the ends trimmed so they're even."
"Why is it that long? Or should I even ask?"
"She likes it this way."
"Ugh. Why does that not surprise me?" He paused, then reconsidered. "Do you like it that way?"
She bit her lip. "Well, I can't imagine how else it could look," she said. "At least in terms of its length. What I was going to say, though, was that this medicine I make... it changes my hair color."
"How so?" This was freaking him out. What was the stuff made of?
"It's actually supposed to be a kind of rich brown."
"Huh. I think you'd look cute that way. I've got a thing for brunettes," he said with a wink, then mentally cursed himself. Why did I say that?
She smiled. "Well, then, maybe my next act of rebellion will be to cut off my hair and let it grow out brown."
He chuckled. "You know, you can dye it if you ever want a change—or if you want to grow it out in its natural shade but don't want to shave your head."
She smiled again. Those smiles sure were making him uncomfortable. Originally, they weren't flirtatious, but now they kind of were. This was really not good. Flynn cleared his throat and grasped for something else to say. "So, I assume your mother takes this medicine too and also has long blonde hair."
Rapunzel frowned. "No, it doesn't do the same thing to her hair. Well, she cuts it, but her natural hair color is gray, and the medicine turns it black, for some reason."
"That's strange."
She shrugged.
"I wish you knew what the plant was. I've never heard of a flower like that. Not that I'm an expert on botany," he said. "But I would've thought that the drug industry would've leaped on it by now, since it has the ability to heal just about anything. I mean, you could really make a pot of money with this medicine."
Rapunzel froze. "That's what Mother always said," she muttered. "She said that the flower is one of a kind, a fortunate mutation, and the formula can't be duplicated with a machine. That it requires a human touch and a very precise hand to make it."
"There you go. She could make a ton of money off that. I'd do it."
Rapunzel shuddered. "She tried. Before I was born, she used to live in a city on an island, and she had a greenhouse full of them. This one company approached her with a deal where they would manufacture the medicine and grow the plants, and she'd get paid for having first bred them and discovered the formula. The first customers were this couple that had something wrong with—well—they were infertile," she said, blushing. "And the company tried to manufacture the medicine, but they couldn't do it, so they told Mother to mix it up for them. And she did, but the company tried to get out of paying her. So she destroyed the entire greenhouse except one plant, and took me—I was a little baby then—and fled to the swamp where they couldn't find us."
A really bad feeling was coming over Flynn. "Was this company, by any chance, named Crown Enterprises?" he asked.
"I don't know."
"I bet it was. They do that kind of thing. They're the ones funding the Stabbingtons. Now, I wouldn't feel sorry for them if Crown stole an idea that was truly theirs, but that canister of instruments was my idea. But yeah, Crown has a bit of a reputation for trying to rip off inventors." Just like you're going to do to her, a little voice in his head scolded, but he tried to push that thought aside.
They lapsed into silence for a while before Flynn spoke again. "What happened to your father?" he asked, as gently as he could manage.
"I don't know. She never mentions him."
He didn't press the subject. Apparently something tragic had happened to the father, and he could definitely understand not ever talking about tragic losses. But something else was bothering him.
"I can understand her destroying the plants to get away from Crown. But taking you, running into the swamp, and going out herself but never letting you out is just strange. You're not the one Crown would be interested in. Maybe they could sue her, if she'd signed the rights to the flowers over to them, but they couldn't do anything to you."
"That's never made sense to me either," Rapunzel said in a hushed voice, as if she were admitting to something naughty.
"And either way, I think it's about damn time an inventor counter-sued them. The only reason they're allowed to exist still is because they fund a lot of political campaigns. Corona is corrupt from the top down." Listen to yourself, he chided himself. Since when do you care about things like this? He had a vague memory of there being some character in a bar two nights ago, when he was so drunk, who was about to beat him up for being politically apathetic. That's how he'd always been. He was focused on numero uno and everyone else could go to hell. Since when did I start to care about anything else, especially some insanely paranoid swamp-dwelling plant breeder that I don't even know?
It's because of her, he thought, his stomach twisting. Get hold of yourself, Rider.
He couldn't let himself think this way. This was crazy. He had been terrified of committing himself emotionally to anyone after his family had died. That was why, after chasing with them for years, he didn't know his team members' real names. How could he think of making a commitment to a girl who had to be damaged in ways he could not even begin to understand? She needed help, and he certainly wasn't in a position to help anyone. He needed too much help himself.
She doesn't need as much help as you think, a voice in his head whispered. She just has a lot of facts and customs to learn. She's much better adjusted than you are. She takes joy in life. She thinks for herself. She's sweet and smart and maybe she's the help you need.
As if to distract himself from his own thoughts, Flynn suddenly hit the accelerator. The car lurched forward at 130, and Rapunzel let out a cute little yelp of pleasure as she was thrown back in her seat. As she quickly became accustomed to the new speed, she grinned from ear to ear at him, and this smile was definitely flirtatious. It made him feel warm all over. Great, just great. Confirmation of what he was thinking. He really did not want to acknowledge that this little voice—which was becoming more and more outspoken—could be correct.
Instead he turned to her with a smirk. "Like that?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Well, if that's the best you can do, it'll work, I guess."
He knew what she was doing, and he knew that he should not fall for it, but he could not help himself. "Oh, that's definitely not the best I can do," he said. "You want fast? You'll get fast." He hit the gas and took it up to 140.
Static crackled over the radio, followed by Vladimir's voice. "What's the rush?"
"She wanted to go faster," he replied.
"Hey, Blondie," Vladimir said over the radio. "Rider's crazy enough without being egged on. And if he gets too many more speeding tickets, he won't be able to pay for his car insurance." The other chasers chuckled over the radio.
Rapunzel turned to Flynn. "Is that true?"
"I've had a couple of tickets," he said evasively.
She sighed. "I don't want to be responsible for you getting another. You can take it back down. I'm impressed." She smirked flirtatiously again.
"Hey," came the voice of Bignose over the radio, "I was looking at the radar. I think we ought to aim for the southernmost cell. It's about five minutes away and it's looking good."
Flynn reached into his satchel and pulled out his phone. With one hand, he navigated to his live radar app. He raised an eyebrow. "Not bad," he muttered. He held the phone out to Rapunzel. "Here. I don't suppose you've had much experience with radar. This is what a tornadic thunderstorm looks like in a cross-section."
She took the phone and studied the radar. "I assume the tornado is down there," she said, pointing at the curling hook echo in the southwest part of the storm.
"If there is one, yes."
She beamed at him. Her face was absolutely radiant, and he couldn't stand it. He simply could not deal with the effect that her smiles were having on him, and he resolved to do something about it. Enough is enough, he told himself. This is out of hand, and it's going to end here and now. I'll scare her off. She doesn't know anything about what they can really do and how dangerous they can be. If she thinks they're all like that little spinner in the field, she's about to learn differently. He looked at the storm on radar. If it had a tornado with it, it was probably moderately strong. He had driven pretty close to some strong ones. It was a delicate situation, but he was confident in his abilities.
They were very close to the coastline now. The road paralleled the waterfront, giving them a view of the marina and the tourist-trap restaurants that had sprung up around it. The island of Corona, with its historic foot bridge and modern suspension bridge for vehicular traffic, was off in the distance to their left. The supercell was coming into view, and they had a direct route toward the wall cloud, approaching it from the west. Rapunzel went silent, staring at the towering, churning cloud. Lightning bolts crackled every second. Beyond the swirling wall cloud, a curtain of rain darkened the horizon.
"Look!" Rapunzel suddenly cried, pointing at a funnel off to the right. It was still over land, but it—and the parent cloud—were headed straight for the waterfront.
"There's no point! You can't get there in time!" Hook called over the radio.
"Watch me," he said. Tires squealed and the engine roared. Rapunzel watched the speedometer as it hit 130 again... 135... 140... finally 150.
"Flynn, you really are nuts!" she exclaimed as he swerved around the traffic. Most of the cars were across the median on the other side of the road, getting out of the way of the tornado, but some were apparently headed for the city. Flynn passed all of them. Several drivers flipped him off as he flew around them and cut in. He returned the gesture.
The tornado shifted its path to the south and seemed to intensify as it did. No longer aiming for the ocean front, it was suddenly headed for a recreational lake to their right, which seemed to be associated with a petting zoo and small theme park. Flynn cut into the right lane to have a ready exit. Rapunzel gasped and gripped the sides of her seat, her eyes bugged out.
An eighteen-wheeled truck suddenly loomed ahead of them. The passing lane was completely blocked by traffic. Rapunzel started to scream as they approached it. There was no way he could brake in time. She closed her eyes and prepared for the impact.
Then she heard the rattle of dirt and gravel. She opened her eyes. Flynn was passing the truck on the shoulder.
"Rider, you fucking idiot!" Vladimir called over the radio. "What are you trying to do? You can't deploy! We've got Moore and there is no way we'll get there!"
"Shut up," he said, turning the radio off. He kept going on the shoulder, slowing down as he did; there was a road leading across the lake that he was aiming for. Rapunzel screamed again as he swerved at a right angle and got on the lake road.
"What are you trying to do?" she shouted. She sounded angry. Good, he thought.
"You wanted to see another tornado," he said through clenched teeth. "You're about to."
"You're insane!" she shouted.
He ignored this and headed onto the four-laned bridge that cut across the recreational lake. The tornado was now directly over the lake, to their left; it was considerably wider than the first one, and it was still shifting its path more or less south.
He switched the radio back on. The other chasers were ranting and swearing about what he had done, concerned about him since they could not see him now. He decided to say something. "Knock it off, guys! I'm on the bridge over the lake," he called.
"What are you doing out there?" one of them—it sounded like Attila—snarled.
"I'm showing Blondie a waterspout up close and personal," he said with a mean-spirited leer at her. The car swerved as he took his eyes away from the road.
Her face twisted at the look he was giving her. "Flynn, get out of here now! It's going to go right over us!" she said.
He looked. The waterspout was not moving in a straight path. It was twisting and sidewinding in circular motions. His stomach tightened. He'd been so focused on scaring her that he had not been paying attention to the storm.
"I don't like this!" Rapunzel cried. She gripped the seat, digging her fingernails into it. "Flynn, it's getting closer!" She stared out the window, transfixed, as the waterspout approached.
Suddenly the car swerved out of control. The road was slick! It was empty of traffic, most people being sane enough to stay off it while a tornado was out there, but that wasn't going to do them any good if they slammed into the bridge.
"Damn!" Flynn shouted, trying to get control of his car. The tires squealed. He spun around twice before coming to a halt in the middle of the road. The waterspout was upon them, carrying debris from the petting zoo and lake, and there was nowhere for them to go.
A fish slammed into the front windshield. It left a smear of blood and slime across the window. Rapunzel cried out in disgust. Then she saw something else, something larger.
"Is that a cow?" she said in horror.
It was. A black-and-white cow was hurtling through the sodden air, mooing in terror. The wind carrying the animal was horizontal. The very air was visible from the moisture it held, and they suddenly realized—
"We're in the circulation," Flynn said, suddenly awed into quietness. His eyes were wide.
The waterspout passed over them, spinning the car around and around, coating it with thousands of gallons of water. It looked like they were underwater. Water seeped through the windows as the low pressure of the tornado opened tiny cracks between the glass and the doors. The car became very humid inside and took on a musty smell. Rapunzel whimpered all the while, terrified that the storm would send them into—or over—the bridge, but it just spun them in place, occasionally picking up one end and dropping it.
Finally the spinning and rattling stopped. Rapunzel was breathing heavily, her eyes wide, her face deathly white. Neither of them could say anything for a moment.
Then she turned to Flynn with a look that sent ice through his heart. Her face was contorted in fury—and betrayal. "Why did you do that?" she shouted. "You almost got both of us killed!"
He couldn't think of any excuse to give. He just stared, shame washing over him.
"I heard what they were saying on the radio! You didn't have anything to deploy and I know it! So why'd you do it? Were you just trying to scare me?"
He couldn't respond. It was horrifying how readily she had latched on to the truth of the matter. You know, you're a real dick, his conscience scolded him.
Wait, conscience?
Yup, Eugene, conscience, he thought. You should be ashamed. You did almost get her killed trying to play badass and scare her, all because you're afraid of your own emotions.
"Rapunzel, I—I didn't mean for that to go like that," he said feebly.
She glared at him. "I don't believe you! I think you did want it to be like that! You wanted to frighten me, didn't you?"
He stared at her, speechless. She read the truth in his eyes, and her face crumpled. "I get it," she said, her voice starting to break. "I understand. Look, Flynn, I know I'm kind of strange, and I don't really know anything about how the world works. I'm sorry for imposing on you. I know you have important things to do, with your instruments and everything, and don't have time to take somebody like me on a tour. I'll just... go back home after this, all right?"
"No," he said. "No, don't do that. I'm sorry. It's nothing to do with not having time for you. It really isn't. You're not in the way at all. This is all my problem, not you, and I... I'm sorry, Rapunzel."
She looked up at him and met his eyes. "Do you want me here or not, Flynn?" she asked evenly. "All I want is the truth, whatever it is."
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He looked directly into her eyes. "Yes," he said. "I want you here. I really do. I... like you."
Sucker, one part of him, the part that had wanted this reckless, insanely dangerous trip into a waterspout, thought.
Then the other part spoke: Oh, shut up, "Flynn." It's not like your advice has been worth a damn.
He sighed, running his fingers through his hair to try to calm his thoughts. It really wasn't good when he was arguing with himself, even in his own mind. He needed to find a point of focus, and for some reason—yeah, right, "some reason," that second voice teased—he was immediately drawn to one in particular. He turned to Rapunzel. She was relaxed again, breathing normally, looking down at her lap. Her eyes were shining again. Tentatively he reached out and stroked her cheek very lightly.
She flipped her head around, eyes wide. He backed away, afraid that he had offended or otherwise upset her. "No, it's all right," she said. "I just didn't expect that." She looked into his eyes again. "You really like me?"
"Yes, I really like you." There, that wasn't so bad, was it?
She grinned, apparently back to normal. "Good! Because I like you too." And before he could even process what was happening, she leaned over and pecked him on the cheek.
His eyes popped. Quickly, almost instinctively, he turned around to take control of it, but she was too fast. She immediately drew away and sat straight in her seat again, looking, somehow, both smug and innocent at the same time as she stared straight ahead. "Now, how about some lunch?" she said.
Note: All speeds are given in kilometers per hour out of respect for this story supposedly being set in Europe (which, incidentally, DOES get tornadoes, including Germany).
Next chapter is about Gothel and the Stabbingtons, and it is rather shorter than this one (this chapter kept getting longer and longer) as well as much darker than anything in this story so far. This fic is not going to stay light and fluffy—well, minus chapter three—for much longer.
