Everywhere she looked she saw silvery bolts of lightning torturing the hail-pelted prairie as funnels of swaying devils approached from the distance. Rain-soaked tresses whipped her face like angry serpents as Myra ran.

Bolting the hatch to shield himself from a windy death, father refused her entrance. He feared being pulled out, and screamed it was nobody's fault but hers she'd gotten there too late. Her tearful pleas wasted precious time and her knuckles bled from beating on the unyielding portal.

Deafening howls of the wrathful squall announced the arrival of the first tormenter. God in heaven, a tractor just flew past. Myra fell to earth, desperately clutching handfuls of Bermuda, praying she'd be spared.

If her head had been forced into the exhaust of a jet engine at maximum power, the shrieking couldn't have been any louder or more frightfully piercing. The grass uprooted and she got sucked into the whirling sky. With her last breath she prayed something heavy would fall on the cellar door and turn cowardly father's shelter into a tomb.

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