Chapter Text
A black SUV drives on a backroad off a small town, passing by miles’ worth of large trees and full fields of crops growing with tender care. The sun lights up either side of the road in intervals as it passes behind darkening clouds floating in the sky, slowly setting its way down past the horizon.
For many people living in the town of Joplin, Missouri, the sunlight was welcome after a solid week of mild-strength storms—which had inconveniently brought high humidity along with the gloom.
For the Warren family, they had decided to spend the rest of their Sunday afternoon in a temperature-controlled room surrounded by screaming, fussy children as they watched a recently released cartoon blockbuster movie on a fuzzy projector screen.
After enduring the uncomfortable metal chairs, wrangling of their restless kids, and sticky fingers from unidentified candy, they had to maneuver their two young girls half-asleep into the car to drive home.
“That was certainly a fun time, wasn’t it? Did you enjoy the movie?” a soft voice rings out in the confinement of the vehicle.
Craig takes his eyes off of the road to look at his wife Everlee sitting next to him, a soft smile pursed on her lips. He reciprocates the smile and reaches down to take a hold of her hand, intertwining their fingers.
“Yeah, I did. For a kids’ movie, it was funnier than I expected.” He lets his eyes wander to the rearview mirror, looking back at the two girls deeply sleeping in their matching booster seats—one pink, covered with tiny flowers and one purple, embellished with hearts. “It seems like they liked it as well. When they actually remained seated and watching.”
Both little girls are spitting images of their parents; dusty blond hair inherited from their mother and freckles from their father. To many people’s surprise, the fact that they aren’t identical twins—instead two years apart—is shocking.
Everlee chuckles, her light blue eyes glimmering in the sunlight. “To be fair, they did miss both of their naps today. Cut them a little slack.” She pauses. “I was about to ask why you decided to take the back way home. Something on your mind?”
Craig shakes his head. “Just giving them a chance to sleep a little bit longer. It’s torture waking them up, I feel like such a bad person. Especially when they’re sleeping so soundly.”
“Oh, they’ll get over it. And so should you, Papa Bear.” She pulls her hand away from his, patting him gently on the shoulder before pushing a stray curl behind her ear. “So, what’re you hungry for tonight? Hamburgers or chicken?”
Craig hums softly, thinking, tapping his fingers absent-mindedly on the steering wheel. “What about pizza? Or some other take-out? We’ve had a long enough day already.”
Everlee pulls out her phone and scrolls through her text messages. “We need to use the grill so we can get it back to Uncle Mark. He’s already asked me twice about us returning it. Mentioned wanting it for some upcoming work function, you know how he is.”
Craig grunts out a laugh, rolling his eyes. “Tell Uncle Mark that he can wait a couple of weeks. Summer just started and it’s been storming all week.” With a flit of his eyes upwards, he leans up against the steering wheel to look up at the sky as sprinkles make their appearance on the windshield. Sighing, Craig flicks the combination stick to turn on the wipers, watching the droplets being pushed away.
Everlee turns to fully face Craig, a scowl forming from his response. “Maybe it’s finally time for us to invest in our own grill. Whaddya think? We’ve talked about it for years now.”
“I think—” He reaches down towards the radio dial and intentionally turns it up louder with a smug look on his face. “We should talk about this later. Okay? And pizza it is.”
Everlee sighs and rubs at her temples, forfeiting the conversation altogether. She turns back to face the wilderness passing by them, the leaves of the trees meshing together into forest green blobs as the car drives past. Everlee catches a quick glimpse of lingering blue sky between the incoming dusk of storm clouds. Before she can blink—a bolt of lightning engulfs it in rain.
The clock on the dashboard blinks to 5:30pm. A Janis Joplin song rings through the speakers, her raspy voice soothing the passengers as they ride in silence. The car's lights cast a yellow glow against the wet asphalt, the windshield wipers rub loudly against the glass. Craig yawns, smacking his lips annoyingly. Everlee sneaks a side-eyed glare at him, muttering a rude comment under her breath.
Suddenly, with no warning, a screeching alarm emanates from the radio, causing all of the family, including the startled children, to let out mutual sounds of distress.
“What was that!?” Everlee yells out in a panicked tone, picking up her vibrating phone from her lap to view the emergency weather alert popping on the screen.
Before anyone else can make a comment, an electronic voice begins speaking for them through the car’s speakers. Craig reaches for the dial, turning it up even louder. “A tornado has been sighted near your area. Move to an interior room on the lowest floor of a sturdy building. If in a mobile home, a vehicle, or outdoors, move to the closest substantial shelter and protect yourself from flying debris.”
“Craig, what the hell are we going to do?” Taking off her seatbelt, Everlee turns back in her seat to console the agitated children crying in the back seat.
Craig hesitates, looking in his mirrors to make sure no one is behind them before pushing on the gas. “I think I’ve got an idea. Everybody hold on!” He grips the wheel as the wind begins to pick up speed around their accelerating car. The windows rattle, competing against the sounds of crying and the high-pitched alert system.
“Pull over!” Everlee shouts out, red-faced and breathing raggedly while clutching onto the side of her seat, watching her husband’s actions in disbelief.
Making a sharp right turn at a four-way stop, Craig speeds past a sign identifying a community storm shelter ahead, and speaks through gritted teeth, “I know what I’m doing!”
Within seconds he’s pulling into a tiny parking lot, choosing the closest spot near a weathered stone path. The path leads towards a building that sits back farther from the road, trees of various sizes cascading over it like a natural canopy.
It’s been years since the shelter had been properly used, built sometime in the 1950s for Cold War nuclear purposes—now a homestead for teenagers to ‘score’ on some adult-type action (which Craig and Everlee had experienced together a decade before), as well as a hideaway for wandering animals who manage to sneak inside.
Craig and Everlee jump out immediately, working on parenting autopilot, flinging open the car’s doors to grab the children from the back seat without hesitation. Taking each of the daughters into their arms, they run as one down the path with careful speed.
The wind whips them around, rain blinding their vision, lightning lighting up the sky with a choreographed show, and thunder putting on its own closing act. The crackling of broken limbs echoes closely behind Everlee and Craig as they duck their heads down, dodging the falling debris.
The ringing of the outdoor emergency siren near the parking lot begins screaming all around them, howling through the trees and sneaking up closer no matter how far the family moves along the path.
Time slows to a crawl, as though the wind itself is preventing them from getting closer to safety. The elements push up against the Warrens like a freight train, an unstoppable force of nature taking control of everything in its path.
Within his final strides on the crumbling path, Craig takes one final look at his wife and daughter following behind him, managing a faint smile, knowing that they’ll be safe soon. The door of the stark white shelter stands out like a beacon in the storm. Splotches of rust contrast on the white paint, burnt orange-red revealing the decades of past storms the shelter has endured that gained a new glaze of pigment every year, only to be washed away. A solar-powered light hanging above the entrance flickers, before breaking off and flying away in the wind.
Craig tries to pry open the heavy door, groaning and struggling with one arm while still holding onto his daughter tucked safely in the crook of his shoulder. Giving a final forceful tug, he manages to pry the door with a loud creak of unused metal, holding it open with all his strength as long as possible before it swings shut.
Craig lets out a labored breath, he tries his best to maneuver through the darkroom, rubbing his available arm against the wall near the door. A string of fluorescent lights flickers on once he hits a light switch on the wall, illuminating a tiny room with metal bench seating along the walls. Insects scurry to hiding spots, buzzing and chirping in communication.
Without looking back, he walks over to the nearest bench and places the young girl down gently. Craig leans down to clutch her face gently, wiping away some of the rain droplets, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head, “We’re safe, Ginnie, we’re safe now. There’s no need to worry, we’re going to be just fine.”
With a tearful glint in her eyes, she looks up at her father with a quivering bottom lip. “Where’s Mommy? And Sissy?”
In an instant, Craig’s face shifts suddenly from exhausted glee to pure terror, whipping around to see an empty room in front of him. The sheer amount of adrenaline from reaching inside shelter had clouded his mind—and he realizes in a sinking instant that his wife and other daughter hadn’t made it inside when he held the door open.
Lunging forward, Craig rips open the door with a sudden boost of strength and yells out, “Everlee! ”
The only response he receives is the mingling sounds of the storm. He squints, trying to catch any glimpse of moving figures through the blinding streams of rain and debris. Even after rubbing his own eyes, strained and stinging from the pelting of liquid, Craig's deepest fears are realized—Everlee and Addie are lost in the storm.
“Addie! ” he tries again, his voice cracking in overwhelming emotion.
After waiting a few seconds for any sign of life, Craig lets out a broken sob, his hands clenched over his face. He crumples against the doorway, wrapping his arms around his body in temporary comfort.
Taking a moment to compose himself, he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and turns back to Ginnie. “Okay sweetie, will you wait right here for Daddy? I’m going to go out and look for them.”
“No, don't leave me! I don’t want to lose you too!” Ginnie cries out, holding her tiny arms out to Craig and scrunching up her fists.
“I’ll be right back, I promise you. I have to try—” He takes a moment to bite at the bottom of his lip, holding back tears. “I have to find them. They have to be out there somewhere.”
With one more gentle caress of her face, Craig turns towards the entrance of the shelter. He takes one step, then Ginnie yells, “Daddy, watch out!”
Before Craig can question his daughter, an unseen force pushes him back into the shelter, sending him sprawling onto the solid floor. Looking up, dazed, he sees nothing–only the raging storm in front of him.
Ginnie, however, stares in awe at a large silhouetted figure blocking the entrance, covering the entire space with its body.
In the distance, Everlee’s echoing screams fill through the powerful sound of the raging storm.
Everlee slings her daughter over her back, Addie wrapping her arms around her neck for stability. Reaching out for the mound of earth in front of her, Everlee clutches on for leverage and tries to pull herself up towards the out-of-reach path. Struggling to grasp the muddy ground, she plants her foot behind her, then loses her footing and falls forward.
Trying a couple of more times, Everlee finally gives up and returns to a large towering tree, cradling the younger child, sobbing, the tears falling from her eyes mingling with the rain plummeting onto her face. Shaking in pain, she reaches down to rub gently at her ankle.
Having tripped and fallen off of the path onto a small inclined area of land while following Craig to the shelter, all Everlee can do now is hold onto Addie and hope the tree above keeps them safe.
She yells out for help, on the off chance that someone, anyone, also seeking shelter will hear and help them out of the shallow ditch. If anything, make sure her child is rescued and taken to the nearby safe area. Her weak voice, though is drowned out by the storm.
Cradling Addie to her chest, Everlee runs her fingers through the child’s thin, curly, wet, matted hair. The only way she can think to soothe her is to sing her favorite church hymns—ones she sings every night to both of her children. Her voice wobbles in emotion when she hears the soft, sweet voice of Addie joining in along with hers, appreciating the subtle vibrations pressed against her.
The rain begins to lighten up, and Everlee looks up in hope—only to see in the distance the spiral of an incoming funnel cloud. The funnel drags along lines in the sky, picking up debris along its path.
Biting down on her bottom lip as her tears fall steadily, pooling together on the corners of her smile lines, she looks down fondly at her daughter.
“Addie Lee, I love you more than anything in this world. Do you hear me? We’ll be safe, we’ll be okay. Close your eyes, and keep them tight.” Everlee kisses her daughter for what she fears will be the last time before shutting her own eyes, waiting for the tornado's impact.
In the breathless moment, she thinks of all the years she’s spent with Craig—from young high school love to adulthood, marriage, and soon after their two wonderful children.
She’d give anything in the world to have their content family reunited all together for one last time. All she can hope for is that Craig and Ginnie managed to reach the shelter in one piece.
“Friend.”
At Addie’s voice, Everlee’s eyes fly open. “What did you just say?”
Addie lifts up her hand, her little finger pointing beyond them. “Look. Friend.”
Everlee turns her head where Addie points, but sees only blinding raindrops and thrashing tree branches.
“I don’t see anything honey, what–” She screams as loud as she can muster when she feels herself suddenly hoisted in the air by an unseen force. Then she feels a pulse of energy and her vision goes dark.
———
The mysterious creature guards the storm shelter’s entrance, back turned to father and daughter now sharing the same metal bench. Craig sits solemnly with his head in his hands, muttering prayers himself while nursing a bump on the back of his head from his fall.
Ginnie watches the figure intently, studying the intricate wings on its back— resembling Monarch butterfly wings she had learned about last year in school. In the fluorescent light of the room, red and orange hues emanate from its outstretched wings and glimmer across the walls like the inside of a kaleidoscope. She resists the urge to reach out and touch a splotch right above her head, tracing the color calling out to her. Even with its back towards her, Ginnie can still see the antennae sticking up, twitching, detecting any motion from inside and outside the storm shelter.
Scratching sounds reach them through the closed entrance and Ginnie taps at her father’s arm when the thing in the doorway moves out of the way, opening the door.
“If this is a dream, I don't want it,” Craig grumbles, rubbing at his tear-filled eyes before looking up to see a limping Everlee and shivering Addie enter the shelter soaking wet, covered in leaves and mud.
He wastes no time jumping up from the bench and rushing over to them, gripping onto Everlee’s shoulder to shift her weight on him and alleviate some of her pain, guiding her across the room and onto the bench to sit down. Ginnie and Addie run to hug each other, taking a moment to comfort and hold each other while their parents reconnect.
“How did you end up here? Are you okay? Where were you? I heard you scream.” Craig spurts out every question that crosses his mind, looking over his wife to assess her injuries—bruises splattered all along her leg, leading down to the swollen, puffy ankle.
Everlee shakes her head, sobbing with overwhelming emotions, her chest heaving to catch up with her labored breathing. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.”
Pulling her in close, Craig nods and rubs her back in sympathy. “It’s okay honey, it’s okay. We’re safe—that’s all that matters. Breathe for me, breathe.”
“It was the butterfly people. They came to save us.”
Turning his head, Craig sees his children, holding hands with big smiles on both of their faces, expressions in contrast to their bedraggled appearances.
“Babies… come here,” Everlee says, holding out her arms. When they run over, she clutches them and Craig into a group hug.
“God saved us. He returned us back together just like I knew He would.” Craig states proudly as Everlee agrees, squeezing them tighter in an embrace.
“It wasn’t God. He didn’t help, so the butterfly people rescued us,” Addie rebuttals, her statement causing her parents to pull away from both children in utter confusion.
As the tornado roars outside, the two figures who saved them turn their heads in unison to look at the Warren family with shining compounded eyes, flitting proboscises moving as though in a familiar goodbye. Ginnie and Addie wave their little hands, bidding them safe travels as their parents watch, dumbfounded, unable to see their saviors. Then, with a flutter of their wings, the creatures disappear out the door, shutting it behind them, keeping the Warrens’ tucked safely inside.