A/N: Let me give a couple special shout outs:

First, to Lushcoltrane. His latest story, The Fever, I can't recommend high enough. If you're a JORI fan and apocalyptic settings are your jam, please give it a read! This isn't fantastical but an earnest, eerily accurate vision of society collapsing. And our girls will be tested in their desire to survive. Me and Invader Johnny are pulling our hairs out, wondering why more people aren't reading this masterpiece!

And also, to SKRowling for the amazing "Gamer Girl" series, adapted for JORI from stories by Melissa Good. They start with Shelter from the Storm, then Fogbow and currently Delta Breezes. Cutthroat takeovers, blackmail, taboo romance, tech-savvy heroics, and more!

Need your JORI fix? Gives these fantastical authors a read while I cook!

Later, taters!

(Well, this was a good idea...)

It grew darker as Chase went off road to cut through the woods. He didn't want anybody to find him and it would save him some time to make it to the bus depot. Chase thanked God that his phone and wallet were already in his pockets when he took off so abruptly. In an emotional state, you can do irrational things like charge out of your house with no identification, money or a way to communicate!

Speaking of money, Chase stopped to check his wallet to see what his cash situation was. He half-expected it to be empty but no, he had about $180. The boy sighed, wondering if that will be enough. Fingers touched the strap of his guitar case affectionately. If worse came to worse, he may have to bite the bullet and pawn his pride and joy to get him the rest of the way. At this point, Chase didn't care if he had to hop busses day and night. He just wanted to go home.

This town was home once, even though it wasn't always a fit for him. Chase was resistant about going to Los Angeles because this place was all he knew. Turned out that Neil was right; Nashville wasn't vibing with him and the sooner he made a change the better. And it did end up working out for him. Chase loved living with his uncle. He was strict to the point that he had to be home by a certain time, especially on a school night. Neil also made him promise to keep up with his schoolwork, help out a bit around the apartment since he was the non-rent paying roommate; things like taking out the trash and cleaning the bathroom. Chase was also told to keep practicing. No matter how good you get on the guitar, you don't want to lose the dexterity of your hands. Picking up the stringed instrument and playing should come as naturally as a bodily function.

(The only thing that feels natural right now is getting the hell out of Nashville.)

He couldn't believe how his parents duped him like that. Mom said that it would be just a visit, mostly for her sake, and he would go back home. His real home. But Dad had other plans. Chase just had to laugh. They were in such a damn rush to ship him over to the other side of the country and now they had a change of heart? Fuck all of that! Everything he needed was in L.A. His school was there, his friends were there. He even had a girlfriend.

Lauren.

Right now, she was attempting the biggest thing she had ever done, and he wasn't there to support her. He believed in her talent. Lauren was the person to bring him out of his shyness and play in front of strangers. It didn't matter that they came in second place for the songwriting competition. For Chase, he had the best prize in the world with the time he spent with Lauren during that contest and everything that happened since. He wanted to be there. He needed to be there! She deserved at least that much, but no. He was trapped in this place!

Chase craned his neck up to see the yellow water tower that overlooked his old middle school. If memory served him well, the depot is a couple miles away if he continued going this way.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Sherri asked.

Jim huffed as he gripped the steering wheel. The impending darkness brought on by the storm prompted him to turn on the headlights. The automatic day runners would not be sufficient enough to see ahead of them. They weren't just trying to alert other cars of their presence; they were on a search. The radio was tuned into the news station as Jim usually kept it when he had wanted to hear the sportscast. The volume was low, the anchor droning on about something. The parents in the car were ignoring it.

"You'd better pray that he's okay," she warned.

"I know I messed up!" he said.

Sherri sighed, running her hands through her hair.

"Yes, originally he wasn't going to live with Neil forever. But it's different now. Your son's growing up, Jim."

"I wanted him to grow up, not apart."

The middle-aged woman focused outside of her window, looking for anyone remotely resembling her son. She would flag down any six-foot figure if she had to.

"What did he say?" Sherri queried, turning up the sound.

"...you should take immediate action to take cover. Stay away from windows, doors, and walls that face the building's exterior. Go to a sheltered area, such as a basement. If there is no basement, go to the center of an interior room on the lowest level. We repeat, a complex system has been increasing in strength over Missouri and is moving our way. Affected counties include Stewart, Montgomery, Houston, Dickson, Cheatham, Davidson, Williamson, Rutherford, Bedford..."

Sherri and Jim looked gravely at each other.

"...northwest of our area is on tornado warning, while the remaining counties are on tornado watch but that is subject to change. Doppler radar is predicting this to be the likely trajectory of this mega storm. Expect rain and increasing winds..."

"Fuck..." Jim sighed, breathing heavy.

The downtown area was pretty vacant, much to Chase's surprise. But he had to think about that later, the Greyhound station being his focus. The recognizable logo loomed over the blue and grey building with massive windows. He pressed on, feeling his phone vibrating in his pocket. He figured that was his folks trying to call him, but he chose to ignore it.

A sandy haired kid, maybe about eight or nine, was standing outside. The boy was staring at the storm clouds. Chase got a chill when he saw that, like something out of a horror movie. He pushed through the doors, where several people were sitting and standing, their attention to the view outside the depot. They appeared to be as enamored with the storm as that kid.

(What's going on?)

Chase was a little nervous about the ticket prices but would think of something to pay for it. Right now, he had to make sure there was a vacancy. He approached the counter and a cheerful-looking girl with glasses acknowledged him.

"Any updates?" she asked him.

He raised an eyebrow.

"On what?"

"That!" the girl pointed toward the windows.

Chase turned and admitted that the storm rolling in was pretty bad looking, bringing rain along with it. That didn't perturb the kid outside very much as he was standing underneath the shelter where the busses would load and unload. Fortunately, Chase wasn't flying so that shouldn't hinder things. He turned back to the girl behind the counter and shrugged.

"Where would you like to go, sir?"

(Pretty sure you're older than me. You don't need to call me "sir.")

He set his stuff down to give his back a break as he schlepped this for miles.

"Um...Los Angeles, please. One way."

"Excuse me," she nodded as she began typing furiously on her computer. "Oh! L.A. is sold out, sir."

Chase's face fell, his teeth clenching.

"What?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry! The last one just left, and the next one won't be until tomorrow but that is sold out."

The boy tugged at his hair in frustration.

"I don't get it; how many people could possibly be going to Los Angeles?"

"Enough to fill a bus, apparently" the girl chuckled.

(Funny.)

"Was there anything else I could help you with?"

Chase sighed, closing his eyes.

"No, thank you. Guess I'll just wait here."

This particular bus station was 24 hours, so in theory he could hunker down here until an opening could get him out of this town. Even if he could just go to Oklahoma City, or Amarillo, Texas. Halfway would be fine as long as he was out of Tennessee and heading west.

(Well, this sucks.)

The buzzing in his pocket was getting to him and he took out his phone, ready to swipe the notification but he couldn't. The screen was overridden by an alert from the National Severe Storms Laboratory. It was bright red with white capital letters: SEVERE STORM ALERT IN YOUR AREA! TORNADO WARNING IN YOUR AREA!

The Emergency Alert System was blaring through the phones of everybody else in the terminal.

"Oh...ssssshhiiiiiit..." he whispered to himself.

Chase got closer to the window, noticing the traffic lights were swaying back and forth, as were the street signs. The accompanying rain got even more intense. He cleared his phone's notifications and tried calling his mom, more concerned about her own safety. The teen immediately felt bad that she was likely wandering around town looking for him in this mess. It was too dangerous, and she needed to seek shelter.

"Come on, come on, answer!"

"CHASE?" Sherri's voice breaking.

"Jesus, Mom!" he huffed, eyes darting around. "Is Dad with you?"

"Yes! Where are YOU?"

He cleared his throat before answering.

"I'm at the Greyhound depot. Listen, guys, you need to get somewhere safe! There's a..."

"WE KNOW, WE KNOW, WE HEARD!" Jim interrupted. "We're coming to get you!"

The frightening alarm blared from outside, warning of the impending cyclone. His heart was beating fast as the look of that cloud formation in the distance was giving him anxiety. Chase licked his lips, fearing the worst.

"Guys, listen, don't worry about me right now!" the boy warned. "You've got to get to the school, or the hardware store, somewhere there's a basement. You need to take cover RIGHT NOW!"

The air escaped from his lungs as the protruding shape from the sky touched down, taking on the color of the dirt around it. Panicked gasps and screams permeated through the waiting area.

A large black man with a beard wearing an employee ID whistled to get everyone's attention.

"EVERYONE! GET AWAY FROM THE WINDOWS! COME THIS WAY, COME THIS WAY! FOLLOW ME!"

He led the people to the area behind the wall past the counter. It was a windowless room reinforced with concrete. No lower level of this terminal existed, so this was their best shot. Chase looked back briefly to see the funnel not moving either left or right. It almost looked like it was still. But he remembered watching a documentary on tornados when he was younger and learned that if it doesn't look like its moving, chances are it's coming right at you!

"KID, COME ON, LET'S GO!" the man ordered Chase.

The boy nodded and ran with the others, still gripping his phone.

"Mom, listen...they're having us hunker in this room. It should...hello? Hello?"

He checked the screen and saw that the connection was lost. A cellular tower must have been affected by the storm. Chase prayed that was the case; otherwise, his parents were in big trouble. Inside the concrete room, people were screaming and crying and rocking back and forth.

Heavy groaning sounds from outside brought to mind the death throes of a great beast. If he had to guess, it sounded like charter busses getting knocked around like Hot Wheels toys. His hypothesis was confirmed when one of the metal behemoths crashed into the side of the building. Their shelter shaking violently from the impact was not helping everyone's stress level.

Chase looked around, not seeing that boy from outside. He stood up and checked the people and he wasn't sitting behind anyone. He wasn't there.

"Ma'am, have you seen a boy, blond hair? He was standing outside."

She shook her head, scared and confused.

The musician took a deep breath and snuck past the depot employees, making it back to the main waiting area. Chase pressed his face against the glass, and he couldn't see the kid anywhere. Maybe he took the warning and sought shelter somewhere, but it was like a splinter in his brain. That he couldn't be sure weighed heavily on him. He opened the door when the girl from the counter shouted at him.

"HEY, YOU! GET BACK HERE! IT'S TOO DANGEROUS!"

"I CAN'T!" Chase yelled back. "THERE'S A KID OUT THERE!"

"BOY, GET BACK TO WHERE IT'S SAFE!" came the man who started gathering the people earlier.

Chase looked back for a second before running out into the windy mess. The funnel was nowhere in sight, but the air around him told him this was far from over. Not knowing where the boy was scary enough but not having a visual on the twister was way worse.

"HEY!" he called out. "KID, YOU OUT HERE?!"

It was utter chaos; the roar of the increasing winds was probably drowning out his words. But he had to try. Maybe he got scared and was hunkering down someplace. Of course, he would panic. He's just a kid. Chase was a young man, and his heart could dig for oil the way it was pumping.

(I need to find...FUCK! He was right here! Come on, kid! Where are you?)

"HELLO!" he tried through the rain whipping him in the face. He was completely wet from the minute he was out here. "MAKE A SOUND, KID! IT'S NOT SAFE OUT-"

Something grabbed the attention of his ears, and he stopped in his steps. Chase turned his head, paying careful mind where the noise was coming from. He swore it sounded like crying. The teen got on his hands and knees and peered underneath one of the busses and there was the toe head, crying and holding his ears. Chase reached for him, but the frightened boy recoiled from the stranger.

"I'm not going to hurt you!" he told him. "Take my hand."

He barely had anything audible pass his mouth, he just stayed there frozen. Chase realized the boy must be non-verbal, maybe special needs. He knew he had to adjust his tone, or this child wasn't going to trust him. This was a scary situation for anyone, add that he doesn't know him into the mix. Chase held his open hand, very disarmingly.

"Listen..." Chase said in a much calmer voice despite the catastrophe literally raining down upon him. "I know you're scared. I'm scared, too. But this isn't safe."

The teen pointed toward the station doors. The bus that skidded into the building's wall was only yards from the entrance. Kid might have thought about going inside but the crashing bus spooked him.

"Over there...that's safe. I promise. Look, my name's Chase. When he get inside with the others, you can tell me your name."

The blond kid made eye contact with the older boy.

"But we can't stay here," Chase drove home by shaking his head softly. "So, let's go. Okay?"

He extended his hand again and the boy hesitated before taking it. Chase just needed to get him to give his trust at this moment and it was working. Small hand joined the big hand and Chase crawled backward, letting the kid wiggle out somewhat on his own. Chase didn't need to cause a panic by yanking him. Adrenaline would overtake the child, and it would be enough to break the hand hold and then he'd really lose him in the storm.

The boy was definitely uneasy as evident in his face. Chase kept a brave smile and nodded that he did a good job. The wind intensified and it was getting harder to see, even the doors of the depot. Then he saw it and his jaw dropped; the tornado was looming in their vicinity. He grabbed the boy and ducked from a flying trash can that made a sizable hole in one of the front window panels. The awning then collapsed in front of them, blocking the doors.

"SHIT!"

Chase took the kid still by the hand and ran to the side of the building, hoping for another way in. There was a grey service door, but it was locked tight. The teen banged hard on it until his hand hurt.

"HELP US! WE'RE OUT HERE!"

High-pitched screams from the child shook Chase and he saw it was going to pass right over them. They had to do something else to weather the storm. Any shelter was better than none because out here they're sitting ducks. Chase kept his grip firm on the boy's hand, determined not to separate.

"THIS WAY!" he said, pulling him along.

There was a platform with a shelter, only instead of being open on all sides, there was a solid wall sporting a map of the greater Nashville area. Chase pushed on the wall, and it felt sturdy. He then tested the metal benches, which were bolted into the ground. It was a squeeze, but they could hide under these until the storm was over. Chase showed the boy by getting on his stomach and crawling underneath. He kept their hands together to help guide him. The musician wrapped his arm around one of the supports for the bench while he stayed linked to his companion. The kid took a cue from the teenager and grabbed a support with his other hand.

The roar of the mighty wind got worse and worse, like a monster approaching.

The matte black wall may have been planted into the ground, but it wasn't made of bricks. So, the tornado's force caused the structure to rattle. Chase gazed up and saw the ceiling above them was looking especially unstable. Sparks fells near them from the malfunctioning light fixtures overhead. They both looked away from how bright they were and then a loud creaking became the most ominous noise in an orchestra of nightmarish sounds.

Chase looked up when the sparks had ceased, and the roof was giving way. Within seconds, the whole shelter had come down, landing only inches from where they were.

"DON'T LOOK!" he told him. "JUST HOLD ON!"

He prayed silently; his eyes firmly shut. The only comfort he found was the feeling of the kids squeezing his hand hard.

(Just stay with me, kid! It'll be over soon!)

A/N: Don't fret, I will not make you wait long for the resolution. I was going to make this all one but I'm not feeling well, and I wanted to put up something.