PROLOGUE

'As always, as I am deposited at my next destination, the first of my senses kicks into action.  The raw, rumbling sound has me confused at first, it doesn't match what I am feeling and it isn't until the veil of quantum mist drops from my eyes that I realize I am outside.

'The air about me is cold but very humid and the atmosphere bears a sense of excitement, as if holding back some immensely powerful force.  Also, it is dark, so I assume it must be night but I cannot be more wrong.  On the horizon I can see bright sunlight and as I look around me, I see this is so… in all directions.

'Excited voices surround me, undiscerning voices, barely distinguishable amidst the din and rumbling that, I now realize, is coming from above.  A lump rises in my throat as my vision traces upwards… to dark angry clouds that swirl above me in a rolling, never-ending servitude of enraged molecules that clash together when north meets south.  An imminent thunderstorm, I figure but the vastness and the color of the cloud seems to be too great and too dark to be a mere storm.

'Through the fogginess of my memory, I recall such an event in what seems my very distant past.  It's as muddled as I feel but the feeling I had then, was the same as I'm feeling right now.  The thrill as a child was as much as I could bear then and the sensation isn't any different as an adult.

'Standing beneath that cloud of discontent, I sense more than see, the brilliant electric blue flash as it lights up the whole sky.  The screams of exhilaration from my companions are drowned out by the thunderous roar before their gratified cries can leave their lips.  Repeatedly, the thundercloud emits its flashing display of dazzling brilliance and is soon followed by a rush of cold wind and a splattering of heavy raindrops.

'I am about to turn to one of my companions when, she calls out, "LOOK!" she points in the direction to where my eyes have just strayed and there I see a long spiralling tail reaching down towards the earth.  I cannot keep my eyes from it.

'I hear another gaunt voice as it yells out into the enveloping darkness, "Another and this one's a touchdown!"

"And another! Let's get outta here!" a different voice calls out from my rear flank.

Even through the dampness, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and a creepy feeling run along my skin as the static electricity starts to build up into a frenzy.'

"It's too late Carl," the young woman calls out shrilly.  And as I turn to her, her auburn hair is fluffed out and standing on end.

"Quit stallin' Yvette and get into the damn truck," the one I assume is Carl, demands hurriedly.

'As I spin around from one formation to the other, I see the first monstrous extension has also made contact with the ground.  We are now surrounded on all sides with developing tornados and the rain morphs into pea sized ice that bounces a foot from the road's surface.  As I watch in fascination and awe, a further trail in the distance reaches down its hand of devastation.'

"Oooh boooy!" I breathe as another tail descends and all start closing in.

PART ONE

Mesmerized, Sam's recoil was far from convincing and Carl called out to him again, "Danny, get your red-tailed butt in here this instant!  Tim'll have a fit if he knows we're in the middle of this!"

The Leaper's eyes were wide with excitement as he turned to face the speaker, Carl's eyes flashed red as another lightning bolt seared through the blacked out sky and struck at the nearby power cables.  The air turned an electric blue as the sound of a thousand waterfalls drowned out the crashing of the plummeting hailstones, which had by now grown to the size of golf balls.

Despite the heavy wind and pelting, everyone's hair was standing on end with the static charge that tore through the intense atmosphere.

"Tim?" Sam shouted his query but his voice was lost as the swirling tempest took his words away from him.  One more glance over his shoulder told him that the twisters were getting too close for comfort and as he strode towards the awaiting group, the force of the wind whipped him from his feet.

"Danny!" Yvette screeched as through the window, she saw Danny crash precariously against the side of the truck.

Sam only just managed to take a grasp on the door handle before the wind again tried to whip him away.  With much effort and heaving, he eventually had the door open enough to haul himself inside.

"What the hell do you think you were doing, Danny?" a voice questioned from the back of the truck and as Carl turned over the engine, it roared into life.  "Didn't you learn anything from the other week?"

"T-the o-other week?" Sam asked stupefied and he cowered in his seat when barrage after barrage, the hailstones pelted onto the roof and side of the truck as the wheels skidded on the slippery tarmac.

"You had me worried there!" Yvette scolded from the middle seat as she flapped a soggy hat across Sam's left arm.

Almost at the same time, Sam felt a sharp prod into his left shoulder.  "Has the wind got into ya ears and whisked up ya brains, Danny boy?"

"Shut up Chris!" Yvette staunchly reproached and she turned awkwardly in her seat as the truck lurched forwards.  "You weren't in such a hurry to get into the van either."

"My God!" Carl announced, anchoring the brakes as they rounded the next bend and they skidded to a shuddering stop.  Through the to-ing and frow-ing of the windshield wipers and the deluge splattering the windscreen, they saw, directly ahead a funnel of immense proportions.  In his haste to reverse, Carl stalled the engine and fumbled with the gear stick.

"Quick!  Quick!" Yvette screamed as she tugged and lurched at the sleeve of Carl's sodden sweatshirt.

Starting it up again and in his quest to maneuver the vehicle into the opposite direction, and as quickly as possible, Carl grated the gears again.  "Darn it!" he growled with frustration, his hands quivering with panic upon the uncooperative gearlever.

"Told ya, I should be driving!" Chris commented harshly from behind.  "Not some damn fool imbecile of a driver, if yous can call yerself a driver."

Sam watched wondrously as leaning over the back of the seat, Yvette lashed out at the youth in the back.  "I've just about had enough of you, Chriiiiiiiiiiiiissssssss!" Yvette's voice rose into a scream as the truck started to rock from side to side and debris slammed into its side.

Carl engaged the gears and the engine revved wildly as the wheels span at nothing beneath them.  Then, all of a sudden, they made contact and the truck veered violently to the right.  Carl struggled with the controls, his exertions clearly visible in his face as he gritted his teeth to get control.

Sam almost toppled Yvette over the seat as he reached over her to help Carl with the steering but the rocking carried forth the momentum and she landed head first into the back with a disgruntled thud.  Through grunts, Sam heartily apologized as three sets of white knuckles steered the truck back onto the road.

The tall, spindly trees to the right of them were now doubled over in an archway with the tornado's ferocity, their branches beating sharply against the windscreen together with the pounding of the ever-growing hailstones and rubble.

To the right and left towering cumulus stretched down from the flattened and enraged storm cloud, though not nearly as large as the one they had left behind.

"There's no way out!" Yvette's nervous whimper was barely audible above the howling turbulence.  "He never said it was gonna be like this!"

"'Tis always the same for the virgin Storm Chaser," Chris taunted.

"As if you'd know," Carl yelled.  "'Tis only your second time out, remember your first, or don’t you want to be reminded of that?"

"It's only your second time too!" retorted Chris.

"Least I didn't lose my nerve!" Carl retaliated.

Sam listened, his eyes flashing from one to the other as the contempt rocketed back and forth.

"Least Tim didn't have to almost knock me out to get me into the truck!"

"Alright, already!" Sam snapped, he indicated out of the front windscreen at the fast approaching twisters.  "Haven't we got enough to contend with, with this storm an' all, without you two going at it like archenemies?  You—we, should be thinking of a battle plan, not bickering amongst ourselves!" Sam looked between the two young men, who fell silent.  "Now is someone gonna tell me who this Tim is or what?"

"Now I know you've really lost it Danny boy, that twister's really gotten your brains scrambled!" Sam shot Chris a wary glare and immediately Chris held up his hands in submission.  "Okay, okay, but I woulda thought that after spending the last two weeks with him, you'd at least've remembered the man's name."

"Ahhh, yes, ha-ha, well… I've never been too good with names," Sam fumbled, his cheek twitching with the subterfuge.

"Well, of course Danny wouldn't know who 'Tim' is, he only knows him as Marshall.  Give him a little leeway man," Carl shot back at Chris without turning around, he was more interested in attempting to keep the vehicle in a straight line than sparring with the quarrelsome man in the back seat.

"That's right, Sam…" the Observer's voice crackled along with the static within the atmosphere.

The voice startled the Leaper. "Al!" he announced blatantly and looked quizzically at the distorted image of the hologram that spluttered and spitted before him.

"Let's see here…" the Observer continued.  "Tim—othy Marshall has been chasing twisters for thirty-one years now, he's one of the top meteorologists for this state."

"Al—I'll bet…" Sam squirmed, catching his blunder, "…one of us can come up with a solution to get us out of this mess," Sam urged the Observer.

"Oh… you're talkin' to me?" Al looked at his friend with a wince.  "Agreed Sam, 'tis a bit blustery here…  Um, now then, to get you outta here?" he added and bringing out the handlink, he summoned Ziggy.

"What a day to pick to go sightseeing, Doctor!" Ziggy retorted; her image just as distorted as her opposing hologram's.  Sam couldn't help but chuckle at the extraordinary sight the pair made.

"What are you finding so funny?" Carl asked as he continually struggled with the steering.

"Ah, nothin'.  Anyone have any suggestions?  And where is this Tim Marshall?" Sam glanced snidely towards his friend for an answer.

Chris answered before Al could even open his mouth.  "Now I know you've really gone screwy, he's monitoring the storm on the other side of town—you know that—you were there when we all started out!"

"Careful Sam," Al forewarned as he watched the anger growing in the youngster's face.  "This guy seems to be getting a little agitated, I've seen his type before. They get all stressed up over nothing."

Sam nodded in confirmation of his friend's forewarning and turned slightly in his seat.  "Why are you being so mean?"

"Yeah, why are you so nasty?" Yvette piped up from behind Sam's seat.  She thumped Chris hard in the upper arm and then immediately ducked out of the way when she saw Chris' hand swing in her direction.

Sam caught the youth's wrist and held it firmly.  "Don't—even think of it!" Sam snarled as Chris tried to pull his arm free.

"Don't hit him, Sam!" the Observer decreed.  "There's an 87.3 percent chance that you're here to stop Carl from dumping Chris on the roadside."

Carl slammed a hand into the steering wheel.  "Chris!  Anymore from you and you'll be hiking back to base!"

"Told ya!" Al cut in, looking very pleased with himself.

"You wouldn't dare… not in this storm," Chris uttered expectantly, glaring at Sam's reluctance to let go of his arm.

"In the original history, everyone dies because Carl stops the truck and in the ensuing struggle the tornado catches up and…"

"You wanna bet?  Then, try me!" Carl snapped forcefully, glaring at Chris through the rear-view mirror.

"…sucks 'em up without a trace.  Sam, their bodies are never found."

Sam saw the startled expression in Chris' face and he half-heartedly slumped down into the back seat, Sam released his grip and shot Yvette an astute glance before turning around to face front just as Carl started to apply the brakes.

"No!  Sam, no!  Stop him—he's slowing down!  You've gotta keep 'em moving, Sam.  It's your only chance of getting outta here—alive!"

PART TWO

"N—no Carl!  No, you can't stop!  You've gotta keep movin', fast as you can—that darned tornado is almost on top of us now!" Sam reiterated his friend's warning.

Carl glanced at Sam and then down at the radio as it crackled into a sudden burst of impromptu life.  "Chaser One, calling Doppler Three, are you receiving me?  Over."

Carl reached out a hand to take the receiver but Sam stopped him.

"I'll get that, you just concentrate on the road ahead," Sam stated calmly with a wry smile.  "I think I can handle it."

"Good one, Sam.  Don't let his concentration waver, not even for the radio," the Observer advised as he slithered into the space on front seat, between his friend and the driver.

Instinctively, Sam moved over to create room and leaned an arm against the sill of the side window.  "We're Doppler Three, right, and… Chaser One is…?" he started to add.

"That's Timothy Marshall, dummy!" spouted Chris as he suddenly lurched forward, invading Al's space.

"Dummy?" the Observer chastised, prodding a guided finger into Chris' insubstantial chest area.  "If only you knew, creep, if only you knew."  He brandished a cajoling thumb in the youth's direction.  "Just ignore him, Sam, he ain't worth the aggravation."

"Just checking," Sam said coolly, taking heed of his friend's words.

"But… Carl!" Chris whined.  "He shouldn't be doing this, he's not qualified!"

"And neither are you!" Carl returned assertively.

"So shut it, nuke-head!" the Observer ordered.

"Ignore him!" Sam countermanded, more to his friend.

"Chaser One, calling Doppler Three, come in, over," the voice on the radio repeated.

"Take the handset Sam and press that little button on the side while you're talkin'… that's it Sam, that one, right there," Al guided.

Whilst glaring at the Observer and taking absolutely no notice of what he was saying, Sam grabbed for the handset and depressed the control button.  "Doppler Three, receiving, over."

"Doppler Three, what is your location?  Over," the voice crackled over the airwaves.

"Erm, I'm not quite sure…" Sam said off the top of his head, turning to Carl for guidance.

"On the east side, tell Tim we're on the east side," Carl notified.

"Got that Carl," the radio hissed.  "What's your situation over there and who am I talking to?  Over."

"'Tis bad, Mr. Marshall and you're talking with Sa—anny, Danny," Sam burbled.  "Sorry, Mr. Marshall, the connection is very bad, over."

"So, how are you finding your first chase, Danny, not too hair-raising, I hope?  Over."

Doctor Beckett was taken slightly aback at the calmness of the speaker's voice.  "Erm… well…" Sam started his reply but was interrupted abruptly as a large dismembered tree branch smashed into the windshield, shattering it.  The clatter as the huge log rebounded along the roof was deafening.

"Aaaarrrrggggghhhh!" everyone, with the exception of the unflinching Observer, yelled as they were bombarded in fragments of broken glass and debris, slashing at their skin, aided and abetted by the thrashing winds and pounding hailstones.  Al only shrugged as the skittering rubble skimmed through him.

"What was that, Zig?" Al hollered above the howling din.  "Hold tight Sam, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to shoot through for a minute, I can't hear myself think, never mind hear what Ziggy has to say."

Sam nodded gauntly as the Imaging Chamber door closed and then returned his attention to the radio.  "We've been hit!  Chaser One from Doppler Three, I repeat, we've been hit!  Over!" he announced bluntly and paused anxiously for a reply.

With a further blasting impact to the side of the truck, Carl lost control of the steering and as he tussled with the wheel, the truck veered into an uncontrollable skid.

Yvette squealed out in agony as she was thrown against the sparsely padded interior.

"Grab something, anything, I think we're gonna roll!" Carl announced as he saw a steep incline fast approaching, sideways on.

Sam immediately dropped the handset and braced himself with a hand firmly pressed against the dashboard and the other clutching relentlessly at the overhead handrail.  From his viewpoint, he couldn't see the impending collision and when it came, he wasn't prepared for the velocity that followed.  His stomach lurched downward as the truck was catapulted upwards at a remarkable rate, all he could see was the ground whizzing past his side window as they reached ever increasing heights.

Above the increasing roar of the unfettered engine, Yvette screamed again as she was tossed from side to side then back and forth as weightlessly, they somersaulted through the densely populated air.

Even though braced, everyone bounced around the inner shell.  With the single somersault complete, the sudden drop was overwhelming and Sam felt his stomach lurch again as they began to plummet back to earth.

Sam hoped that whenever or wherever he was, there was a roll bar fitted and if it was substantial enough, and also if the width to height ratio of the vehicle was sufficient to stop it from rolling further. 'What the hell?' Sam thought, 'Why am I thinking mechanics at a time like this?'

With a crash they landed back on the road but facing in the opposite direction.  After a couple of nerve-wracking and bone wrenching bounces, the truck began to settle.

Carl twisted the key in the ignition only to find the engine unresponsive and he growled under his breath as he continually pumped his foot on the gas peddle.

"Careful," Sam suggested.  "You don't wanna flood it or wear the battery down."

"I know what I'm doing!" Carl snapped back at Sam and Sam ignored him, everyone's nerves were frayed, he figured, it was understandable.

Sam, once again turned in his seat and saw a white-faced Yvette cowering in the corner, her arms clasped tightly about her quivering knees.  He eased an arm out of the restraining safety harness and leaned over the back of his seat to pat the side of her knee fondly.

"We'll get out of this, I prom…"

"How do you know?" Yvette screeched impulsively.

"Let's just say I have a feeling about it," Sam said soothingly.

"Just stop making promises you can't keep," Yvette pouted nervously but a little more calmly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw an ashen Chris slumped and squashed awkwardly against the interior and the seat.  And, through the intermittent flashes he could see a crimson streak, dividing his face into two unequal halves.  He then noticed that Chris was the only one not wearing his seatbelt and he muttered under his breath, "Darned fool!"

Seeing Sam's stare, the young girl turned and shrieked in horror at what she saw.

Pulling at the harness to loosen it and to give him more room to maneuver, Sam leaned even further over the seat, he again turned to Yvette.  "Pass me some cotton from the first aid kit," he asked composed but his hand was telling a different story, it quivered as he held it outstretched and waiting.

Yvette didn't respond, she sat ridged and unable to move.

"The first aid kit, will you pass me some cotton?" Sam repeated, somewhat harshly.

"What?" Yvette replied, dazed.

"Never mind," Sam uttered despondently as he espied the green box beneath the back seat and tugged at the protruding handle.

"Sorry Danny," Yvette apologized as she slowly emerged from her stunned stupor.  "I didn't catch what you were saying," she added at the same time as she helped Sam drag out the box and unfasten the clasps.

Hands searched diligently for what he sought and handed Yvette the roll of cotton and instructed her to tear off a fair amount, he then twisted off the top to a small bottle and proceeded to drench the wad the girl held out.

"Can you clean up his face?  He's too far away for me to reach," Sam asked and then grunted some more as he searched out some padding, a bandage and anything he could find to keep the dressing in place.

Again, Yvette froze.

"Don’t worry," Sam advised.  "It looks far worse than it actually is."

She looked at him with horror in her eyes.  "I can't!" she breathed in sharply. "Really, I—I c—cannn…"

"You can, believe me, it's not that bad," Sam interpolated.

Nervously, Yvette swabbed at Chris' face and was relieved to see that the blood wasn't coming from a gash she had construed to be all the way across and down his face.  Although, a steady stream of the red stuff was pumping profusely from a small but deep cut on his forehead.

"Press this onto that cut and tape it firmly with this bandage," Sam informed as he past her the things one by one.

"Awwww no!" Carl screeched out, followed by: "Not again!" from Yvette, and Sam, no longer fastened into his harness, took a firm grip of the back of the seat as the truck began to rock violently and was tossed over by the velocity of the wind as if it were made of papier-mâché.

The first to be torn away was the Doppler radio antenna as the vehicle was flipped over onto its roof.  The radio dead.

To the southeast of his position, Timothy Marshall watched as twister after twister descended on the horizon.  His first thoughts were for his newest recruits.  If only he had known this morning that today would turn out as it had, he would've split up the group and placed Carl and Chris with a more experienced team.  As for Danny and Yvette, he wished he'd kept them with him, as he'd originally planned.

"Chaser One, calling Doppler Three, are you receiving me?  Over," he called out over the radio.

A full minute elapsed before he obligatorily called again, "Chaser One, calling Doppler Three, come in, over."

Tim waited a few more anxious seconds before an unfamiliar voice spluttered over the turbulent airwaves.  "Doppler Three, rec—ving, over."

"Doppler Three, what is your location?  Over," Tim asked curiously.

"Erm, I'm —t quite sure…" the voice faltered.

"On —east side, tell —im we're —the east side," Tim recognized the intermittent voice of Carl Roberts.

"Got that Carl," Tim acknowledged into the handset.  "What's your situation over there and who am I talking to?  Over."

"'Tis bad, —r Marshall…" the voice fizzed, "…and you're talking with —anny, Danny.  Sorry, Mr. Marshall, the con—tion is very bad, over."

"So, how are you finding your first chase, Danny, not too hair-raising, I hope?  Over."

"Erm —well…" Danny started but the interference of the culminating storm clamored in the foreground over and above that in the background.  "Aaaa—rrrr—ggg—hhh!" was all he heard and for the next nerve-racking moments, Tim listened in as the storm unleashed its fury.

"Danny, come in Danny!" Marshall yelled into the mouthpiece.  "Doppler Three, are you receiving me?  Over."  He relaxed momentarily when the radio crackled.

"We've —en hit!  Chaser One f—m Dop—r Three, I repeat, —ve been hit!  Over!"

Marshall fell silent as roarings and crashings were expelled through the speakers, reiterating the resonance that extended from all around.

High winds battered around the truck as Timothy Marshall attempted to reconnect with Doppler Three.  As he looked about at the encroaching tornadoes, he began to fear for the safety of the novice recruits.

Tim tried again, "Chaser One, calling Doppler Three, come in, over!"  As he released the lever, all he heard was static.  'Carl had said that they were over on the east side but where on the east side and the east side of what?  Dammit!  That region covers one heck of an area and spans a great many miles.  Have they strayed from their planned route of Highway 35?  I hope not!'

PART THREE

"Oh my God!"  The Admiral confessed his alarm by the tone in his voice as the Imaging Chamber door opened to the scene lay out before him.  "Something is definitely wrong with this picture," he stated as he twisted and contorted his body to line up with Sam hanging upside-down, somewhat precariously and suspended only by the tangled seatbelt that was tightly looped about his upper arm and shoulder.

In the driver's seat, Carl was more or less in the same predicament, though more firmly secured than his friend.  Al's attention was then drawn to a groan that came from the back seat.

"What the hell happened here, Sam?" the Admiral questioned as he studied the swinging form of the insensible Yvette.  "I thought I told you to keep them moving!" he added astutely.  When no reply came, he tilted further for a closer look and called upon Ziggy for assistance.

"It will be 6.25 minutes before Doctor Beckett breaks out of his unconscious state, Admiral," the iridescent image proclaimed.

"Come on buddy, snap out've it, will ya?" the Observer snapped his fingers in rapid succession.  "Sam—ol' buddy—Sam?"

Ziggy clicked her tongue in typical exasperation.  "As I've said before, if you were listening Admiral, Doctor Beckett cannot possibly hear you."

"'Cause I was listening, Zig… but maybe, just maybe, you could be wrong, just once," the Admiral articulated sarcastically.

"Wrong?  WRONG!  Admiral, I am never wrong!" the hybrid computer's eyes flashed out an incredulous castigation toward the chief administrator.

The Observer slapped his hands to his thighs and sighed deeply.  "Ziggy, will you stop this 'I'm never wrong' routine and get to some serious business.  That damn super-cell will be down on us like a ton of bricks any minute!"

"Not us Admiral, we are in the twenty-first century," Ziggy reminded, haughtily.

"We might be," Al replied sternly, "but Sam ain't!  You're forgetting, bane of my life.  The here and now Sam's in, is a lot more treacherous than the subdued little world we're occupying."

"I am well aware of that fact, Admiral," Ziggy replied arrogantly.  "But there is nothing either of us can do to bring any of these unfortunate souls out of their unconscious state before they are ready."

Al closed his eyes.  "How lo—long have they g—got?" the Observer choked as he turned away from his best friend.  He didn't want to see anymore; he'd already seen more than enough.  For years he'd watched Sam put himself in danger, done things that others would have shied away from and even barfed at.  Hell, he'd done it himself!  Sam had bared his soul for everyone he'd met, and for what?

This?  Is this what it all boiled down to?

"Three and three-quarter minutes, Admiral," a subdued Ziggy replied.

The Observer closed his eyes tighter, in a vain attempt to hold back the tears that were welling up behind his shuttered lids and fighting to get out.

"You're tellin' me that Sam's life hangs in the balance for a mere two an-a 'arf minutes?" Al probed.  His shoulders heaved, releasing sob after sob from behind a shaky hand that swept over his face.

A sudden smashing of glass had Al recoiling, the nearside window exploded into the interior of the truck, showering its occupants with cuboids of tiny razor-sharp crystals.  The culprit, a twisted and tattered branch, was half in and half out of the window and exposing his friend to the outside elements.

"Get me outta here Zig, I can't stomach this!" the Admiral rebuked and squeezing at the handlink as if his life and that of his friend's depended on it.

"Thirty seconds, Admiral!" Ziggy vocalized.

Al's eyes widened. "I thought you said we had…" and then screwed them tightly.  "I can't stay and watch, I'm outta here!"

His hand was already poised over the handlink when Ziggy intervened.  "You misunderstand me Admiral.  That last assault was a godsend; it has had a remarkable enhancing effect on Doctor Beckett.  See for yourself, Admiral," she said serenely.

The Observer turned repentantly, though fearfully towards Sam.  All he could see was the soaked face of his friend, the ice crystals melting and intermingling with the blood that dripped evenly to the wagon's roof.  Al looked up at the hologram in mystification.

"Five seconds, four… three… two…"

Doctor Beckett groaned.

"What the hell… happened?" the physicist complained as he opened his eyes.

"No time for explanations now, Sam.  We've gotta get you outta here!" Al advised, the Admiral in him wanted to take over and he felt helpless, as usual.  "How much time do we have now, Ziggy?"

"Two minutes, precisely," the hybrid revealed curtly.

"We're upside-down!" Doctor Beckett stated the obvious while tugging at the safety harness.  "I'm all tangled up here, Al!"

"Then get out of it Sam!" Al yelled, and then thinking more clearly, he added, "I'm sorry buddy, I wish I could help ya."

"I—I know!" Sam grunted as he freed an arm.

"Careful Sam!  You'll end up on your…"

Al's warning came a little too late, and as gravity took over, Doctor Beckett crashed to the truck's roof.

"…noggin, if you do it like that!" Al added belatedly.  "One thing though, it's quicker your way."

Crawling over the rocking carcass, Sam released the buckle to Carl's safety straps, easing him down and groaning under the strain.

"Carl!" he called out breathlessly as he slapped him tentatively across the face.  "Wake up, darn it Carl!"

A moan from his rear, had Sam reeling around.  "Do you need any help Danny?"  Yvette, although battered, bruised and bleeding—was at least conscious.

"How's Chris?" Sam asked, returning his attention to Carl.

The Admiral consulted the handlink, "He's gonna be fine Sam, that is if you two get him outta here."

"Senseless as is usually normal," Yvette answered.

Al laughed, "I like her Sam, a girl after my own heart; she's a good sense of wordplay."

"Will you quit fooling around and see if there's any shelter nearby!" Sam shot at the Observer.

"No need Sam…" Al began to say.

"I will Danny, but don't we need to get these two out of the truck first?" Yvette inquired.

"Ziggy's already done a scan of the area," Al continued to talk over the other two's conversation.  "There's a whole stack of drainpipes less than a hundred yards down the road.  Lucky for you, they're developing a new sewerage system and work would've started tomorra.  But now obviously, it's delayed due to the tornados."

"I'm sorry," Sam apologized to Yvette.  "I don't know what I'm saying, I guess my nerves are a little frayed."  Sam glared at the hologram, blaming him for sounding off.

Sam put all of his reserves into kicking open the door and then dug deeper for even more strength from his already exhausted and throbbing muscles.  Al could see the pain in Sam's eyes and he winced for his friend.  It always amazed him how Doctor Beckett could give his all and then find that little bit extra.

Backing out of the truck, he heaved at Carl's underarms until at last both of them were free.  The squalling winds were so violent he found it difficult in returning and he forced himself to claw his way on hands and knees.  All the time, Al vocalized orders that were barely audible amidst the incessant pandemonium.

On Sam's return, he noticed that Yvette had somehow managed to push Chris' feet through the opening and taking a firm grip on his ankles; Sam found it easy to drag as the young woman pushed.

"Which will be quicker, taking them one-by-one or relaying in turn?" Yvette asked breathlessly as they neared to where Carl lay.

Sam hadn't even considered how they'd convey the two insentient individuals and he looked to the hologram for advice.

"I'd say one at a time; otherwise you'd be wasting time switching from one to the other."  Al gazed off into the distance as Sam and Yvette took up the load.  "Thatta way Sam!" the Observer pointed up the road.

"This way, we'll take Chris first, he's the heavier," Sam directed as he took the lead.

"You can't see it from here but believe me, there's a whole heap of pipes," The Admiral articulated with his hands, "…you can't miss 'em."

"Where are we going?" Yvette quizzed.

"The other day…"  Sam had to think quickly to cook up an excuse and taking in what his friend had said, he added, "I—I noticed there's some soil pipes just up the road aways."

Yvette looked at him curiously.  "Danny, when on earth did you find time to come all the way out here?"

"Uh—oh!  You've boo booed Sam!" Al proclaimed.  "You and Yvette are not local to this area of Oklahoma!"

"We're in… Oklahoma?" Sam orated, shocked in only just discovering his location.  He had been so preoccupied with the tornadoes that he hadn't given 'the where or when he was at,' a second thought.

"Of course we're in Oklahoma!" Yvette chastised and then after realizing that Danny might be suffering a concussion, she cringed and added, "Sorry Danny, it's been one heck of a day for all of us."

Sam's surprise duly noted, Al responded, "You're just on the outskirts of Oklahoma City, or Sam, to be more precise, the town of Moore," Al chuckled at his own in-joke but it went unnoticed as Sam struggled against the prevalently embryonic storm.

Sam left Yvette to clear a path into the lowest and innermost of the pipes, instructing her to cram in as much of the debris as she could find to make the far end as airtight as possible.  His knowledge from earlier experiments warned him that the vortex would be greater along and through an open cylindrical shape, than if the pipe was to be blocked off.

As the physicist raced against the clock, Al waited by Carl's side.  "Sam come on!  You've gotta hurry!" he shouted above the raging torrent as Sam neared.  "You've less than a minute before you're all puréed into mush!"

"No… breath… to… answer," Sam panted as he gathered up Carl's limp frame and, hitching it over his shoulder, he started the return trip.

Having gotten Chris into relative safety, Yvette rushed to help Sam.

"Get… inside!" Sam yelled and waved her back.  "This time… you pull… a—and… I'll… push!"

The young woman nodded and entered the pipe feet first.  Doctor Beckett was close behind and none too gently; he positioned Carl headfirst toward the opening.  Yvette, grabbing his jacket by the shoulders started hauling him in, whilst Sam thrust forward with what remained of his waning strength.

With only seconds to spare, Doctor Beckett lugged at a dismembered tree branch to shield the entrance and wedging it in place, he fell back exhausted onto an equally depleted Yvette.

Outside, the storm's fury stepped up a few gears.  Their shelter becoming inundated with barrage after barrage of increasing and heftier missiles.

"That was a close call!" Sam sighed as wiping his brow; he closed his eyes and started to relax.

"Too close, if you ask me," Yvette groaned, her voice totally wasted and very nearly lost in the external mayhem.

She reached into her pocket and produced a small flashlight, then just as she turned it on a pair of legs appeared out of nowhere.  Sam was visibly startled; he hadn't heard the Imaging Chamber door open amidst the din.

"What is it!  What's wrong?" Yvette yelled out when she saw Danny's alarm.

Sam watched as the Observer recentered his image to be on a level par.  "You scared me," Sam answered to the terrified teenager but also addressing the hologram.  "That light is mighty powerful for its size," he explained as he shielded his eyes from the direct dazzling.

"Sorry Danny," the girl apologized as she directed the beam elsewhere.

"Sorry Sam," Al said contritely, his face glum and impassive.

Sam knew that look, he'd seen it many-a-time, when things were not turning out as expected and he shot him an inquiring glare.

"It's not good Sam…" Al started to say when an ear-splitting crash interrupted him and had Yvette reaching out for protection.

"Hold me," a pitiful voice asked as she clutched relentlessly to the front of Sam's jacket.

Doctor Beckett pandered to the girl's plea and hugged her close.  It wasn't all-selfless, he too needed to feel someone close, something real, something tangible.  Everything on this leap so far, had been incredibly obfuscating.  So much so, that it seemed like a nightmare, an unending and horrendous dream and Al wasn't helping any by his austere expression.

"Out with it," Sam said calmly to Yvette, but giving his friend a demanding frown.

"You're not gonna like this Sam!" the Observer profoundly enunciated.

PART FOUR

"No, you'll think I'm a baby!" Yvette snuffled.

Hugging her closer, Sam looked away from the troubled Observer and instead peeked through a tiny gap in the branches that served as a door.  Everything that wasn't nailed down, and even some that had been once, whizzed past in a clockwise altercation.

After taking a deep breath, Sam turned to glance at each in turn, he asked, "Tell me anyway."

The Admiral started first.  "Ziggy's now saying that there's something else you've gotta do before you can leap!"

"I'm scared!" the frightened Yvette blubbered, "in fact, I'm not scared, I'm downright petrified!"

"You don't say," Sam said, again answering both companions.  "I'm terrified too."

Yvette visibly flinched as a loud crash rumbled above them.  Al once again changed perspective and rose up through the cylinders, almost to the point where his feet disappeared.  After a few short moments he returned.

"This twister is tossing the top soil pipes as if they're just them hollow tubes of pasta but they're okay here Sam, at least for now."

Yvette turned suddenly, a tiny squeal freezing in her throat and as she shone the torch to where she'd heard the movement.  Carl groaned and with the intensity from the small beam of light, he shielded his blinking eyes.

"Where are we?" Carl asked; his voice husky.

"Sheltering from the storm," Yvette returned.

Sam took advantage of the young woman's attention being taken by Carl and he kinda whispered to Al, "What do you mean, for now?"

The Observer shook his head.  "I said they're okay for now, I didn't say you were."

Sam frowned and gnawed at his lower lip as his friend continued.

"Down the road a ways, there's a couple in an overturned car, they try to escape when the lull of the eye passes over… but they don't quite make it.  Sam, Ziggy's predicting that you've gotta go out there and bring 'em back here."

"And… what're Ziggy's odds?" Sam inquired cynically.

The Admiral tapped a stubby finger into the handlink and Sam half expected to see Ziggy materialize but instead a holographic screen popped up, displaying a pie chart.  There were 4 segments, the largest at 77.6 percent for saving the couple, the second largest at 20.4 percent for saving the chaser team and the next smallest 1.97 percent for him leaping, leaving a balance of 0.03 percent for a successful retrieval.

Sam had to choke back his gasp when he saw the final percentage and Al suddenly switched off the hologram when he saw it too.

"Sorry Sam," Al apologized, "I'm afraid Ziggy's sense of humor is lacking lately."

"No matter," Sam said with a sigh and he looked towards the blocked opening as the howling winds began to dwindle away and the feint noise of a revving engine filtered through.

"…but there IS something going your way… it's a whopper Sam! The tornado's almost two kilometers wide and Ziggy's predicting that any minute now it's travel path is gonna slow to 30mph. So that should give you at most, twelve minutes but to give you a reasonable safety margin, you should make that six minutes or less."

"You're sure?" Sam asked and the hologram nodded.  The physicist looked worried and shook his head.  "There's never been a tornado recorded that was over a couple of hundred meters?"

"I'm sure Sam," Al again nodded resolutely.  "Now if you're going, it's now or never.  You're fast running out of time, Sam.  Though if I were you or if I wasn't a hologram, I don't think I could go out there."  Al vindicated, his expression solemn.

"Well, fortunately for them, you're not me!" Sam ascertained grimly and as he slithered towards the entrance, the Observer disappeared. Shaking his head, Sam kicked out at the transitory barrier.

Hearing the ruckus, Yvette yelled, "Danny what the heck do you think you're doing?"

"Can't you hear it?  There's someone out there!" Sam replied somewhat harshly as his foot successively lashed out, dislodging the branches.

"Only a fool would go out now!" Carl commented. From what I can make out, we're in the eye of the storm."

"Fool I may be… but if I don't at least try, I know I'll regret it later," Sam uttered as he crawled through the now open aperture.  He stopped and felt a tug from the bottom of his jeans.

Turning slightly, he saw an outstretched hand offering a mottled bandanna.  "Take this," Yvette volunteered.  "Tie it around your face; it'll keep the dirt out."

Sam felt like a knight being offered a favor from the damsel before a jousting contest, he just hoped that he would be coming back to return the favor.

"Thanks," Sam said gratefully, taking the scarf and then he was gone.

Outside, Sam couldn't see a thing for what seemed like swirling fog and as he pursued the hum, the air about became a little clearer. He looked up and gasped at seeing the raging coiled funnel, above which was a flawless circle of clear, sapphire blue sky.

"Over here Sam!" the Observer yelled.

On hearing his friend, Sam lowered his vision and clutched the kerchief to his face, he remembered his mission and he picked up his previous trail. In a couple of yards he could see the outline of a car's upturned chassis, the wheels still turning.

On the ground next to the vehicle, a young man and woman were seated and they looked to be no more than teenagers. "It's gonna be okay now," the young man said to the girl. "The storm is over."

"No it isn't!" Sam shouted in their direction.  "It's only half done!"

The boy's expression grew perplexed whilst the girl hooked her arms around his shoulders and hid her face in his chest.

"We're in the eye of the tornado!" the Leaper bellowed and beckoned them to follow.  "Come with me, we've got shelter!"

The pair hesitated, "Why should we believe you?" the boy questioned.  "We don't know you.  How do we know you can be trusted and why should a complete stranger want to help us?"

"Hurry Sam! Ziggy's predicting that the air pressure's gonna drop and you know what that means," the Observer said and his image disappeared from view.

Sam knew all too well what a drop in pressure meant and he inhaled deeply before shouting. "If you don't trust me, you're gonna die, both of you."

"What's keeping you Sam?" Al queried as he reappeared and seeing the expression on the lad's face, he added, "Oh I see; they don't trust you," he concluded and after taking a closer look at his friend. "I don't blame 'em, I'd be suspicious too, you're a mess, Sam."

Doctor Beckett rubbed a hand over the dried-on blood that caked his face.  "I'm no monster," Sam broke off and looked at Al.  "If—f you come with me now, I—I promise, you'll… you'll…"

The Observer read his friends words and quickly added, "It's okay Sam, you can tell 'em they'll be safe in the shelter."

"…be safe!" as Sam spoke the engine was still revving wildly and emitting exhaust fumes which started to eddy, and slowly gathered in momentum.

"Tell 'em to hurry Sam, there's not much time left!" the Observer interjected.

"Tony… please," the girl pleaded and getting to her feet she pulled at Tony's arm.  "We've gotta trust him, please, I don't wanna die, Tony."

Sam reached out and took the girls lead arm.  "We're outta time!" he yelled as he pulled.  The impetus hauled Tony to his feet and he didn't protest as Sam dragged them along.  "This way!  It's not far!"

As they clambered over and around the dislodged storm pipes the wind speed strengthened.

"In here!" Sam pointed down to the opening of the central pipe.

"You first Claire, I'm right behind you," Tony urged as he ushered her inside.

Sam made a grab for the branches when the storm threatened to whip them away and soon followed Tony into the pipe.

"I need a hand to get these branches in place," Sam groaned wearily.  "I'm fast running out of steam."

Yvette started to push her way through but Tony held her back.  "I'll help, it's the least I can do."  He squashed to the side of Sam and together they tugged at the branches, wedging them firmly into place just as the storm drove a projectile into one of the pipes above.  Whatever it was, it made a horrific din as it rattled and clanged around the whole length of the cylinder, before escaping with a crash out of the other end.

Sam again peeked out through the tiny gap but this time the inexorable tempest whizzed past in an anti-clockwise mêlée.

Doctor Beckett turned when he heard the Imaging Chamber open.  "It's a little crowded in here," Al stated and everyone recoiled or ducked as another object clattered along the inside of the pipes.

Sam looked at him patronizingly.  "How's Chris?" he asked both the Observer and Yvette.

This time Yvette was the first to answer, "He's still unconscious!  He might be the most obnoxious guy on this planet but I wouldn't wish any ill on him."

"Ziggy doesn't have any data on him, Sam," Al shook his head in frustration.  "I don't know what happening but apart from the info about those two in the car, there hasn’t been any update to the past's history since you leapt in." Al grimaced and whacked the handlink, "There gotta be something though," he added in confusion after searching for another explanation from the device.

"I'd better take a look at him," Sam said, as he moved his position.  It was gonna be a tight squeeze, getting to the other end of the pipe but after a shuffle here, an innovative chess move there and the unequivocal 'excuse me' and 'sorry,' he finally sat in the cramped space between Carl on his right and Chris on his left.  "Please, pass me your torch," Sam asked Yvette and after a little more shuffling, Carl handed over the small flashlight.

Doctor Beckett examined Chris' eyes and lifting each drooping eyelid in turn, he shone the beam and watched for any variations in the pupil's reactions.  He didn't find any subtle differences; both pupils reacted evenly and readily towards the light.

His breathing was rhythmic and stable, though moderately heavy but that didn't alarm Sam any.  Doctor Beckett found his pulse rate was a little fast, although that was to be expected, Chris was under some trauma, even if he was unaware of the fact.

He then gave Chris' head wound the once-over and on first sight as he removed the dressing, he established that the bleeding had stopped and the wound was clean.

Doctor Beckett wanted to apply a fresh dressing but the speedy evacuation from the Doppler truck meant that they'd had to leave all the bulky things behind, and so he replaced the existing dressing.

At last Doctor Beckett sighed, "He's gonna be okay!"

The remitting echoes from the sighs of Carl and Yvette were clearly audible and the expressions on their faces were obviously that of relief.  Tony seemed indifferent but Claire was honestly pleased at the news and she showed it by hugging Yvette.

The Observer had indiscriminately moved up the queue and was now crouching between the legs of Carl.

"Any change?" Sam asked the Observer without thinking.

"Any change in what?" Carl asked.

"I—I was just, erm, wanderin', ahhh… h—how you were feeling, Carl, that's what I meant," Sam stuttered as he disinterred himself out from the grave he'd just dug for himself.

"Apart from a bad headache, I feel fine," Carl confirmed.  "Cuts and a couple of bumps and scrapes in places I don't wanna mention but other than that, I'm okay."

"According to the information in Ziggy's databanks the two kids still die in the storm," Al dictated methodically.

"What about the rest of us?" Sam asked Al, but for everyone else he added, "Has anyone else got any injuries I should look at?"

"Since when did you become a doctor, Danny?" Yvette asked flippantly.

"Doctor or not, I think he's doing a great job," Carl reinforced and awarded Sam a pat on his shoulder.

"However Danny knew we were out there, I'll never know but I for one am glad he did find us, even if Tony's not quite as appreciative," Claire said admiringly.

"Speak for yourself Claire," Tony growled.  "I doubt anyone could survive out there.  So thank you Danny, for coming to our rescue."

Al waited until the color in Doctor Beckett's cheeks had stopped glowing so profusely and everyone had settled before he answered Doctor Beckett's question.  "Sam?" Al said, reacquiring the physicist's attention.  "Like I said before, the four of you are still killed when Carl stops the truck."

"I thought I'd changed all that," Sam whispered harshly and through gritted teeth.

"You did—you have!" the Observer stated.  "That's what I can't understand, no matter what you've done, it hasn't had any impact on the original history."

Sam gawped at the Observer glumly.  "Another glitch in Ziggy's system, I suppose?"

"I'm not sure," Al shook his head, very nearly as gloomily as his friend had.  "She's determined that she's not gonna make an appearance 'til she can figure it out but she's not saying what it is either."

Sam laughed uneasily, "Will she ever change?"

"Only you know that answer, poop-head!" a voice sneered out from Sam's left.

"Ahhh, the dead is riz!" Al declared derisively as Doctor Beckett twisted abruptly to see a snickering Chris.

"Chris, you're conscious?!" Sam gasped.

"Of course I am dumb-dumb, have been all along," Chris cackled wildly.  "It was all I could do to keep myself from laughing my head off.  What do you know of the medical profession?  Quack!"

"You were conscious a-and you continued to let me examine you?" Sam asked incredulously.

"You're even dumber than I thought Danny boy, you and Yvette both," Chris criticized mockingly.  "It was excruciating to stop myself squirming at the two of you humping me all that way over to the pipes."

"Who is this guy?" Claire asked softly, looking at Tony and she frowned as Tony hitched his shoulders in objectivity.

"You were awake then?  You—you hypocrite!" Yvette bawled out furiously.  "An-and to think I felt sorry for you!"

Infuriated as he was, Sam bit his tongue.  He didn't want to stir up any further heated debates.

Carl leaned in behind Sam and grabbed Chris by the scruff of the neck.

"Some kinda fraud, by all accounts," Tony whispered as he turned to Claire.

'Not again!' Sam thought and as he yelled, "Stop it will ya!" concomitantly the storm began to quieten.  His voice seemed excessively loud and so he proceeded a little more softly, "All you've done since I—I—erm, we started out—you've done nothing but bicker!"

Yvette covered her mouth with a hand and Carl looked decisively guilty.  Chris merely grinned.

Sam stared at Al quizzically as the familiar prickle began to tingle at the tips of his fingers and toes.  "It's time," he stated to his friend.

"Time for what?" Carl questioned.

"What!  But you haven't…" Al said exasperatedly as he glared and jiggled at the handlink, then after a pause he shrugged.  "Seems as if you've done it pal," he resumed as Ziggy's likeness zoomed into focus.  "Now, she decides to turn up, when it's all sorted."

"Time for getting out of this kettledrum," Sam answered Carl.  "But to be safe, we should wait a few more minutes."

"Professor Lofton thinks it may have been the electrical energy from the storm that was causing chaos with the circuitry," Ziggy said thoughtfully.

"Sounds about right," Sam nodded understandingly.

"I hadn't even noticed how quiet it'd gotten outside," Yvette proclaimed eloquently.

"But now the tornado has passed, everything is working perfectly again Doctor Beckett," Ziggy inflected proudly.

Al clicked his tongue at the irrefutability of the hologram.  "But whatever you do this time Sam, don't let the lightening get ya.  I really don't fancy being a flitz on the britz—I mean—blitz on the fritz—Hell, I don't know what I mean!"

Sam glared at Al with remonstration just as the prickle underwent its accustomed intensification.  "Do you ever?" he retaliated through gritted teeth but at the same time indicating that he didn't have much time left on this leap.

"Ahhh, right Sam," Al acknowledged his friend's indignant eagerness.  "Let's see here… hmmm," he broke off as he keyed a request into the handlink.

"What are you thinking Admiral?" Ziggy queried.  "I am sure, that on the whole, asking me would be much quicker."

That's a laugh!' Al thought pretentiously but instead said, "Under normal circumstances, yes, I would agree however, I don't think Sam has enough time for your longwinded theoretical explanations."

Irritated by the recurrent wrangling of the two puerile holograms, Sam interjected, "On the whole, I think it would be much quicker if Ziggy gave me a summary!"

Ziggy's face beamed with triumph.

"Now, if you don't mind Ziggy!" Sam urged as the blue veil started to blur his vision.

Ziggy glared haughtily at the Observer and with equal arrogance said, "Your five companions including Daniel Kettering, survive the remainder of the 1999 Oklahoma tornadoes.  Carl McCormick and Daniel team up to follow in Timothy Marshall's footsteps when he retires in 2008."

As the leap started to take over, Sam found it progressively difficult to concentrate on what Ziggy was saying.

"Carl marries Yvette in two years and in 2003 they have twins, one of each, Carla and Daniel.  However, Christopher Billings dies in November of 2001 when hurricane Henry swept through…"

To Doctor Beckett's ears, Ziggy's voice was fading drastically.

"That's what I call irony, Sam!" Al voiced but his words were barely discernible.

"…the small Canadian coastal town of St. Jo…"

For a few minutes, the Admiral stood in absolute silence in the darkened Imaging Chamber with only a blue hue and the three tiny flashing diodes from the handlink visible.  Once again, Al traced his lonely walk towards the Imaging Chamber door and as it opened more leisurely than was usual, he wondered, where and when he would next see his friend.

EPILOGUE