The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Applied Hypnosis Lifestyle”

by ”URN My Power

VII—Gone With the Wind.

Sierra woke to the sound of her cell ringing. “H’lo?” she asked sleepily.

“Sierra, I need you to come down to the restaurant.” Mark said. He hung up before she could get an explanation. She looked at her cell in confusion before throwing off the covers and getting dressed. The drive down was uneventful, except for the thoughts tumbling around in her head. Perhaps there were problems with the new girls Yuko had recruited, or maybe the tills had been off, or maybe somebody had driven a truck through the front of the restaurant to get at the ATM or the change machine. All manner of possibilities scrolled through her mind, but it was nothing like what she found when she walked in.

“Surprise!” shouted a motley assemblage of friends, relatives and coworkers. The crowd launched into a spirited (if somewhat off-key) rendition of “Happy Birthday To You” as her parents wheeled a giant cake into view.

“Make a wish and blow out the candles, Sierra!” her mother said, holding up a digital camcorder. Sierra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Just as she was about to blow them out, the top of the cake exploded.

“Booyah!” Mark shouted from inside, waving a pair of lit sparklers. Sierra burst out laughing as Ricky Martin’s “She Bangs” began to play over the speakers and Mark began to dance. Regrettably, he had to keep his clothes on for the sake of the younger guests, but she found herself having fun anyway. After the presents were opened and the real cake was cut and eaten, Hsu and Hua took her to the mall to get a full glamour-job, complete with manicure and pedicure, a facial and a new outfit. They treated her to lunch before her parents took her to the DMV to get her new driver’s license—the first where she was able to have her picture taken facing forward.

From there, it was a forty-mile road trip in a vast convoy to a theater Hua had rented out for them. There, they watched one of Sierra’s favorite movies, and then they ate dinner at Red Lobster. Despite her mother’s insistence, or perhaps because of it, Sierra decided to forego lobster in favor of grilled swordfish, with fried calimari rings and a spicy dip for an appetizer.

The family called it a night when they got back home, but for Sierra, the night was still young. Mark picked her up, still wearing her new outfit, and they took her out clubbing. It was Sierra’s first time in an over-18 club. She danced with Mark, Hsu, Hua, Fiona, Connie and Traci until her legs wouldn’t support her anymore.

They helped her out to the car as the first sprinkles of rain started to come down. Mark drove her out to his place. She hadn’t been here in weeks—not since Mark had started having crews working three shifts, day and night. He said it was finished, and he wanted to show it to her. She couldn’t see it at first. It looked like she was looking at a bare hill until she noticed the steps leading down. An underground house? she thought. He opened the doors and led her inside.

The furnishings were nice and plush, and the decor was soothing, with soft mood lighting, and blues and greens. Thunder rumbled outside as the rain began to come down harder. Hsu pointed out the drains at the bottom of the stairs before she closed and locked the door, which was built to keep water from flowing inside even if the drains should become clogged. With Mark’s help, Sierra managed to make it downstairs to the lower level, where the bedrooms were. The master suite had a huge bathroom with a ten-person shower and a big Jacuzzi-style tub. In the bedroom, the bed was a huge custom unit, with what looked like four king-sized mattresses surrounded by a canopy that was almost an indoor gazebo. The walk-in closet was just gravy.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“It’s wonderful.” she replied.

“A cozy little warren for my happy little love-bunnies.” he said, caressing one of her personal erogenous zones so that she moaned in desire. Someone else put something on her head, and then she was shown her reflection in the full-length mirror as Traci closed the closet door.

The thing on her head was a pair of costume bunny-ears. She could see everyone else putting them on. She was passed from one bunny-eared woman to another as they helped her remove her clothes one item at a time, until she was naked except for the ears and her ever-present necklace. She crawled up onto the bed and lay face-down, her ass in the air. Mark smiled and caressed her slit until her moans of pleasure turned into whimpers of desire. The others helped him undress, and then he was behind her, and sliding inside. Her pussy welcomed its familiar friend with the usual enthusiasm. She quivered in anticipation as Mark moved inside her, stimulating her the way only someone who knew her so well could.

“Ah! Yes! There!” she cried as he began to strike her G-spot with each thrust. She howled in joy as the first orgasm washed over her senses, sending her body into convulsions. He turned her over without pulling out, and held her legs up over her head until her breasts were almost mashed against her knees. This was new, and she was finding that she liked it a lot. She let him know vocally with lots of encouraging noises. She came again, and felt him ejaculate inside her. Fatigue finally caught up with her, and she dozed off before the afterglow was even barely begun.

* * *

The storm was growing worse. Yuko was boiling water for noodles when she heard hail hitting the windows. She looked outside and saw the tree—a scawny, potted thing surrounded by a fence to keep dogs from peeing on it—waving like mad in the strong winds. As the hail pounded all the harder, she decided the smartest thing to do was to get away from the windows. She poured the hot water over her noodles and waited. Lightning flashed rapidly outside, reminding Yuko of the strobing lights from her captivity in the mall. The TV beeped. Yuko walked to the television and turned up the volume knob to make it audible over the noise outside.

“...severe thunderstorm with a lot of potential for tornadic activity. As you can see, a rather extensive Tornado Watch has been put into effect for these counties...” Yuko watched, transfixed as a list of nearby counties was read off, and simultaneously scrolled along the bottom of the screen. She felt herself grow cold as the name of her new home county appeared.

She remembered a cyclone she’d once experienced firsthand. It had appeared out of nowhere while she and a friend were riding their bikes—a swirling column of dirt and debris that had blown them to the ground and sucked up their bikes, throwing them in a lake. In America, those were called “dirt devils,” and considered minor compared to the smallest actual tornado, but it had been terrifying enough for her.

She watched the screen like a rabbit staring at a snake.

* * *

The hail woke Angel up with its loud rapping against her window and the roof. Knowing she wouldn’t be getting back to sleep with that racket, she went downstairs for a drink and turned on the TV. Instead of the usual late-night talk shows, most of the local stations were in “severe weather alert” mode. She saw the tornado watch and felt a cold knot settle into the pit of her stomach. She ran upstairs to her parents’ room.

“Mom, dad, wake up!” she cried, shaking her father’s shoulder.

“Uh, what is it, Angel?” her mother asked sleepily. “Did the hail wake you?”

“Well, yeah, but there’s a tornado watch on for every county within fifty miles.”

“Okay, I’m up, I’m up.” her father said, putting his feet on the floor and wiping his face. “You’re right, tornado’s nothin’ to make light of, even if it is just a watch. Get your brother up, we’ll go to the college and get in the basement of the library. I’ll call Mort and have him open it up for us.” Angel nodded, and left her parents’ room, grabbing her cell on her way to her brother’s. She was writing a text-message with one hand as she shook her brother awake.

“Five more minutes.” he groaned.

“Hey, dingus, you wanna see the tornado?”

“What?!” he asked, sitting up. The power went out suddenly, and the room was lit only by the strobing lightning. “Come on, there’s a tornado watch on, we’re going to the college library to hide in the basement.”

“Don’t scare me like that.” the preteen boy said with a frown. Using the meager light from her cell phone’s screen, Angel searched her brother’s drawer for the glowsticks left over from Halloween. She handed an unopened one to her brother, cracked one for herself and put its string around her own neck before taking two more to her parents’ room. The light was weak at best, but they kept putting off buying batteries for the flashlights and now were paying the price. Her hands shook, but she tried to look calm. She continued to send text-messages to everyone she knew throughout the short drive to the college. Her father’s fellow professor, Dr. Mortimer Pepper, was waiting for them at the entrance to the library.

“Is it okay if some friends of mine come, too?” she asked the professor.

“Of course.” Dr. Pepper responded. “Go on downstairs now, I’ve contacted some others.” Angel sat on the top step of the stairwell and continued to text her friends and coworkers. Her cell was a cheap model, so she had to stay above ground to get any decent signal.

“I’ll ask a few people to bring mattresses and food and stuff.” she said. Her father nodded, and she kept an eye on Dr. Pepper at the predominantly glass front of the building.

* * *

Hua and Traci were taking a breather by the side of the bed when their Master’s cell chimed the familiar noise of a received text-message. Hua opened it and read what it said. “Master, there’s a tornado watch. Angel is taking shelter in the library basement with her family, and texting anyone else she knows who doesn’t have a basement.”

“Good girl. Tell her not to worry about us, we’re all just fine. The whole house is a basement.”

“Yes, Master.” Hua said, and began to type the message. Mark grabbed some pajama bottoms and headed upstairs in case someone should come knocking in need of shelter. The others put on some loose-fitting pajamas they found in the closet, except for Sierra, who was still asleep. Hsu stayed with her in case she should awaken, and the others went upstairs to join their Master.

The first knock came around two in the morning. The wind was blowing the rain at an acute angle to the ground. Two college-age sisters and their parents told them that their basement was already flooded. Mark let them in and had Traci fetch towels and a hairdryer. Connie brought some extra clothes for them to change into.

* * *

Yuko’s eyes widened as the news broke:

“This just in: Channel 25 storm-chasers have sighted a tornado on the ground, repeat, there is a tornado on the ground. We’re going to try to make the precise location appear on the map here with our live Doppler radar...” She was shaking as the red-and-blue hook appeared on the screen, especially when the weatherman said it was heading south-southeast at an estimated sixty miles per hour—on a collision course for town. She frantically called her Master.

“Master! Danger! T-t-t....” she stammered when he picked up.

“Calm down, Yuko.”

“Master, there’s a t-t-t...a tornado on the ground.” she said in a little-girl voice. “M-moving fast and heading right for us!”

“Grab something to wear quickly and head for the laundry room in the basement.” he said. “I’m safely underground, and I want to be able to say the same for you.”

“Yes, Master.” she said, calming significantly at the news that he was safe. When he hung up, she grabbed an oversized T-shirt and her mattress, dragging that out into the hall.

“Good idea!” said another young woman, from the next floor up. She grabbed the back end and started helping her carry it downstairs. “We’ll put this over us when we get down to the basement. I’m Jane, by the way.”

“Yuko.” Yuko responded.

“I hardly ever see you outside your room.”

“I’m supposed to be keeping a low profile.” Yuko replied.

“Are you like, a spy or something?”

“I work in acquisitions.” she said simply. “My employer calls me when he needs me, and I have a lot of free time when I’m not on assignment, but it can be pretty dangerous.”

“Especially when people don’t wanna be ‘acquired,’ right?”

“Right.”

“But I bet it pays way better than being a cashier at the grocery store.”

“I’m never wanting, if that’s what you mean.” Yuko said. They had arrived in the basement, and there were other people, men and women, taking shelter there.

“Yes!” exclaimed one of the others. “Bring that over here, would ya?” They all crowded together between the washer and the wall. With the door closed and a mattress over them, they were as safe as they were going to be. The landlord came in and started yelling in Spanish.

“What did he say?” Yuko asked.

“He wants to know what we’re doing.” said a Hispanic youth who was probably around twenty-one if that.

“Does he know about the tornado?” Yuko asked. “I was in a dirt devil once, and that was plenty for me.”

“He says God will protect us, and we should go back to our apartments and get some sleep.”

“I believe the saying ‘Trust in God but lock your doors anyway,’ applies in this case.” Yuko said. The boy relayed that for the landlord, who said something and then went back upstairs. “What did he say?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t repeat that in mixed company.” he responded.

* * *

Mark could see why Yuko had been so terrified. The storm was moving fast. If it kept going, it would be at or near his new home in three minutes. He hoped there was no one out on the road in the path of this thing. This was going to be bad.

“Mark? What’s going on?” Sierra asked sleepily. Luckily she had the presence of mind not to call him “Master,” since they had guests.

“Nothing to worry about, baby, just some new friends riding out the tornado with us.”

“The what?” she asked, shocked. She ran to his side and riveted her eyes to the television screen. She started to shake. He wrapped his arms around her.

“Relax, we’re safely underground. I’ve been getting text-messages all night that everybody’s taking shelter in basements, cellars and strong structures. I’ve called your parents, they’re in the bathtub with a mattress on top of them.”

The storm arrived, snapping powerlines in its ferocity and plunging everyone into darkness. He led the group downstairs as the exit began to rattle. Sierra’s skin was as white as alabaster, and she held onto Mark’s arm as if the twister was sucking her into its swirling maw even now. He held her close and whispered soothingly to her, and took her with him when he went to start up the generator.

* * *

As soon as the watch became a warning, Angel and Dr. Pepper headed down into the basement. Half of the employees from the restaurant were down here with their families, having come from houses without basements, many of them from the trailer park. Angel was glad the rest had found shelter as well. The power was out, but somebody had a battery-operated television so they could watch the storm coverage. It was rated a bad one, F3 to F4. They split up, some going into the computer lab, some going into the microfilm room, some going into the librarians’ lounge, but everyone hunched under tables and desks. The children made a game of it, building a fort out of one table with walls of cushions.

“For those of you who’ve just joined us,” said the TV, “we’re speaking live to Storm Chaser Rick Randall on the road.”

“Thanks Lyle, this is a very dangerous storm we’re tracking. It’s just passed through a neighborhood with some really old plantation houses, and it’s making a beeline for a town...what town is that, anyway?” Somebody off-camera said something. “Oh, okay.” he said. “Yes, everyone in the area should definitely get indoors, underground if possible. I’m pretty sure I saw a Silverado in a tree just a minute ago. This is a high-ranking tornado travelling sixty miles per hour—that’s a mile a minute, folks—and it’s only getting meaner as it barrels down on the town like a charging bull.”

Angel shivered. Someone put a blanket over her shoulders. She wrapped herself tightly, wishing her Master and Mistress were here to make her feel better. She comforted herself with the knowledge that they were at least as safe as she was, and managed to get back to sleep.

* * *

Liam MacLeod, father to young Mark, watched the news reports with a growing sense of worry. He had recognized the Silverado the storm-chasers had seen in a tree. Now, as the titanic whirlwind cut a swath through his son’s hometown, he frantically dialed his son’s number. One ring. Two rings. Three. Four.

“Hello?” asked a female voice.

“Is Mark there?” he asked.

“Hold on.” Pause, footsteps.

“Hello?” Mark’s voice asked.

“Oh, thank God.” Liam said, feeling a cold knot dissolve in his throat.

“Dad?”

“When I saw the truck in a tree, I feared the worst.” he said.

“I hardly sleep in it, Dad.” Mark quipped.

“Where are you?”

“In my house. Oh, you haven’t seen it, have you? It’s a nice, cozy Hobbit-hole, with two underground floors, a generator, a drain to keep the entry from flooding, a really strong door...”

“My son is a bloody genius.” Liam muttered, sitting down hard enough in his vibrating chair to jar his tailbone. It took him several minutes to catch his breath enough to tell Mark he hadn’t broken anything. When he was able to, he stood up, and took a seat on the much softer couch. Well, one worry was off his mind. The storm-chasers’ cameras continued to show scenes of carnage. They interspursed it with snippets from weather cameras in parts of town that still had power. One was just down the street from Mark’s restaurant. “Aw, no!” Liam said as the tornado paused and made a sharp turn as if specifically targeting the business for annihilation. Windows exploded outward from both halves, and tables, chairs and arcade machines were sucked into the maelstrom to be flung about like bits of confetti at a party. The tornado’s path was no longer straight and predictable, instead curling and twisting like a kid doing doughnuts in a mall parking lot. The storm stopped short of destroying Li Hua’s house, instead choosing to throw debris at it in passing. Its path curled toward the poor side of town, where low-rent housing dominated. It tore the front half off an apartment building, chucking debris from there into the projects before going on a rampage in Wal-Mart. By this time, it was starting to peter out, becoming less massive and less powerful, so it only tore the roof off before continuing on. It completely ignored the trailer park and decided to spend its dying moments at the lake, shaking trees as it went. It didn’t quite make it, twisting its last fully a mile away from the power plant.

From there, the newscasters moved on to other, less spectacular tornadoes in other counties and towns, but that one was a hard act to follow.

Liam decided to get some sleep.

* * *

Yuko thought she was going to die when she heard the crashing sound and the howl of wind, but death didn’t come. The awful noise went away sooner than expected, moving on to more fertile killing fields, leaving the residents of the apartment complex alone.

Most of them, anyway.

Yuko crept cautiously out of hiding. The winds were still fierce, but not as fierce as before. Her search was cut short by debris blocking the way into the forward half of the building. She could see patches of sky through the broken boards. She backed away from the wreckage and returned to the others.

“What happened?” Jane asked.

“The front half of the building’s gone.” Yuko said flatly. Jane’s eyes widened, as did everyone else whose apartment had been in the front half. Yuko crawled back under the mattress, curling into a fetal position, but felt no safer.

* * *

“Anybody down there?” Mark called into a pile of wreckage that used to be an expensive house. A muffled voice called back a reply. He nodded to the others, who started carrying off whatever they could by ones and twos. He and the father of the college girls handled the bigger pieces. The women carried off individual bricks to a pile off to the side. They found the entrance to the basement and began to help people out of their imprisonment. With the aid of a first-aid kit, minor injuries were cleaned and bandaged, and Sierra dispensed cups of soup, coffee and hot cocoa.

They moved on to the next house, and repeated the process with more hands. It was perhaps eight in the morning when the construction crews arrived—Mark had called Boyd Construction, since he was already their best customer. Others started to trickle out of other houses that had survived the storm, and they added their own efforts as well. Tool boxes were removed and sleeping bags put into the beds of pickups and the backs of SUVs to carry anyone who needed to go to the hospital.

Trained assistance arrived around ten-thirty, in the form of paramedics and the fire department. Sierra was taking a break when Mark sat down next to her on the tailgate of a truck that usually served as a pilot car.

“How ya holdin’ up, hon?” he asked, putting his arm around her shoulder. She put her head on his shoulder and sighed tiredly.

“It never seems real on PBS.” she said.

“I suppose not.” he said, rubbing her arm. His cell buzzed in his pocket. He checked the caller ID and saw it was Angel. “Hello?” he said into the mouthpiece.

“Do you have any idea how good it is to hear your voice?” Angel asked, sounding positively relieved.

“I have an idea.” he responded. “We’re helping other people dig out here.”

“Okay, sounds great. The library’s a mess. The front windows got blown out and there are books everywhere, but we’re all fine. We called Greyhound and chartered a bus. Our cars got thrown around like Hot Wheels in a temper tantrum. Should we come by and help out there?”

“We’re doing okay here, I think, but see if you can help out elsewhere.”

“As you desire, Master.” Angel whispered, being careful not to let anyone hear her.

He smiled at Sierra as he closed his phone, and led her back to his underground house. In the bedroom, he began to undress her, caressing her body in all her favorite places. “Sierra Mystified.” he whispered. She sighed as she slipped down into trance once again. “Very good, baby.” he told her, leading her to the huge bed. “Relax even deeper for me now, darling. It’s okay, it’s all over but the rain. No more twister, no more howling wind, no more rumbling noise. It’s just the rain outside, and you and me here, now, together.”

“Together.” she said as her face finally reposed completely. He kissed his way from her lips down her body. He licked her slit, and she moaned in response.

“I know what you want, what you need. Just relax and enjoy.” He began to lick her in earnest, bringing her easily to the heights of pleasure thanks to their familiarity with each other. He used his mouth to keep her orgasm going as long as he could, and then moved up, her feet on his shoulders as he lubed his cock with her juices.

“Yes!” she moaned. “Please...” He slid inside her, penetrating deeply. Her breasts bounced alluringly as he pistoned into her repeatedly, keeping his own release in reserve. It was all about her. Her comfort. Her pleasure. She whimpered in joy as he brought her to another climax, then another. Only when he couldn’t hold back any more did he let his own orgasm propel his seed into her body.

“Sleep now, Sierra. You need to rest. Just sleep for me, baby.” he told her. She went limp beneath him. He pulled out and cleaned her up, covering her with a blanket. He dressed again and headed out, rejoining the rescue efforts.

* * *

“Anyone down there?” somebody called. Yuko opened her eyes. She didn’t remember having fallen asleep, but she must have to be waking up now. She crawled out from under her mattress along with the others. A police officer reached his hand out to Jane, who went up first, followed by Yuko, then the Hispanic boy whose name Yuko had never learned, and then the rest, one at a time, single-file. Yuko accepted a cup of coffee. The strong, black coffee was far too bitter for Yuko’s taste, but she choked it down just to warm up. She sort of stared at the remains of the apartment building, which looked a lot like a candy bar that somebody had nibbled on from the side.

“You okay?” Jane asked, putting her arms over Yuko’s shoulders. Only then did she realize she’d started to shake.

“No.” she admitted. “I miss my...” she paused, realizing what she’d almost said.

“Master?” Jane supplied. Yuko went pale. “Did you know you talk in your sleep? It’s okay, you were quiet enough, I could only hear you because your head was in my lap. I won’t tell. I’ve never tried the BDSM thing. Is it fun?”

“It feels good to let go.” she said. “I never realized until I met Him, until He took me, how good it would feel.” The medics came away from a pile of rubble near the front, carrying a covered body.

“Ah, crap.” Jane muttered, watching them bundle it away. “He was kind of arrogant, but he was still a human being. Did you get to know him very well?”

“No. He left me alone as long as my rent got paid.” Yuko responded.

“What are you going to do now?” Jane asked. It was a good question, and Yuko wished she knew the answer. There was only one thing she could think of. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and called the single entry on its speed-dial.

* * *

Angel stared in shock at the remains of her home. Her worldly possessions were strewn all over the neighborhood along with dozens of others’. Her mother was weeping unabashedly on her father’s shoulder, and her brother was throwing a temper tantrum. Angel’s body shook like Jell-O, and she couldn’t decide whether it was from not eating or from emotional distress or both. The bus was stopped while people picked around for salvageables and searched for other survivors. Angel was sitting on the bottom step, just inside the door, where what was left of the wind wouldn’t chill her more than she already was. She felt numb inside, and her mind was sluggish, refusing to work properly.

Her phone rang, buzzing in her pocket and playing her Crazy Frog ringtone. She pulled it out and stared at it for a few seconds before she remembered that she was supposed to open it.

“Hello?” asked a male voice on the other end. “Hello? Angel? You there?” Angel brought the receiver to her ear.

“H-hello.” she said, so softly she could barely be heard.

“Are you okay?” he asked. The voice was familiar. Her Master’s voice.

“I...I’m alive.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Where are you?”

Angel said nothing for several moments, staring at the place where her house used to stand. “It’s gone.” Hot tears streaked down her face as the emotional dam broke, and she cried until she had no more energy left for more crying.

“Angel, listen to me.” Master said.

“Yes.” she said, latching onto the voice as an anchor in the turbulence of her emotions.

“As soon as you can, head over to the West End apartment complex and pick up the residents there. Yuko just called to tell me the storm tore off the front half of the building, and the landlord died. Take charge of her, she’s even more lost than you. When you have the residents from the apartment complex, call me back and I’ll tell you where to take them.”

“Yes, Master.” she said. Purpose bouyed her, gave her strength she sorely needed. She came out of her little shelter with renewed vigor, ready to do what needed to be done.

* * *

The construction company’s pickup pulled up to Li Hua’s house. Some of the windows were broken, and she had to open the gate manually due to the lack of power, but other than that and some debris strewn about the grounds, it looked untouched. The driver went in after Li Hua unlocked the door. He checked for gas leaks, but thankfully found none.

Hua called her Master and informed him of the extent of the damage. “That’s fine.” he said. “How are you set for food?” Hua walked to her pantry and gave him a running inventory of the items she found. “That’s fine. Get the gas going and start cooking. You’re going to have some hungry mouths to feed soon. Start with whatever’s in the fridge and freezer, because I’m not sure how long it’ll take to get power back.”

“Yes, I understand, Master.” she said quietly.

“I’ll have Angel and the others help out where and when they can.” Mark said. “I’ll see you later.”

* * *

Having something to do helped immeasurably. Angel supervised the collection of the refugees from the apartment complex, and they pulled through the Wal-Mart parking lot, where relief workers were doling out needed supplies from the inventory that had survived the loss of the store’s roof. She approached them and explained what needed to be done. Soon, coolers of ice and food were being loaded onto the bus and into another truck which would head out toward Mark’s house. There were even more mouths there than on the bus. Anything that would go bad quickly was loaded, and directions were given to both locations to take some pressure off the existing relief centers.

Angel couldn’t remember ever actually being to Li Hua’s house, and she didn’t get the same sense of deja vu she got when she visited a place out of trance that she had previously visited while in one. The place was impressive, despite the debris and broken windows. Hua was cooking up a storm, and had ladeled beef stew into bowls upon hearing the bus pull up.

“Here.” she said, handing Angel a bowl and putting her in a chair. “You look like you’re about to fall over.” Angel took a bite to humor her...and then remembered just how hungry she was. She dug in ravenously, and licked it clean when it was gone. She cleaned the dish and put it in the drainer, only to have Hua take it out and refill it for someone else.

Hua didn’t have too much of any one thing, but she had enough food on hand to feed everybody, at least this time. For the few Vegans and vegetarians, there was vegetable stir-fry and ramen noodles, from which the flavor-packs were removed and given different purpose as beef and chicken stock for other foods. Things moved a lot faster when volunteers started bringing grills, taking some of the pressure off of Hua’s kitchen. Angel supervised the operation, making sure everyone took enough breaks so they wouldn’t become exhausted. Even Hua was firmly planted in a seat at least once every two hours, for at least twenty minutes at a time. The bus brought more of the storm-tossed on two occasions, but by then almost everyone already there was helping out in some way. As night drew near, beds were prepared from what was available. The children got the guest beds, and most of the blankets. There were several sleeping bags, some of which had come along with the grills. When those ran out, bedding was improvised from upholstered furniture, fainting chairs, whatever. Even clothing from the attic was stuffed into garbage bags to fashion into something resembling bean-bag chairs.

Angel was occupying one of those now. Yuko was sandwiched between her and Jane, a friend from the apartment building whose front half had been torn away. The day shift from the restaurant had formed a protective quarter-circle around the girl called Tyra, who slept with an arm curled protectively around each of a pair of little girls who as yet had not found their parents. She wished she could sleep, but every time she closed her eyes, she heard the angry wind again.

* * *

Esperanza daubed at the cuts on her father’s forehead with a cotton ball dipped in hydrogen peroxide, while her mother set his right arm and improvised a splint. They’d gone down to the basement almost as soon as he’d gotten home from work, having heard of a tornado on the ground on his car radio. The bottom step had given out under his foot, sending him to the concrete floor, where his arm had taken the brunt of the fall. Esperanza had strapped him to the pipes to keep him from blowing away, then strapped her mother and finally herself into place as well.

The noise had been awful. The house had been torn open like some child’s Christmas present, with little bits strewn everywhere like wrapping paper. Things had flown everywhere.

Esperanza felt a sting on her face and realized that her mother was putting peroxide on cuts she hadn’t even known she’d had. She dreaded having to go upstairs and survey the damage, and so she kept putting it off, until she heard the sound of a car horn.

“Hello?” a voice called. “Anybody here?” Esperanza climbed up the rickety steps and pushed some boards aside to peek her head over the top of the basement. Sierra was standing on the foundation of the house, frantically moving boards around in search of survivors.

“Sierra!” Esperanza shouted, waving her hand. The redheaded girl turned, smiled and ran to embrace her.

“We were worried.” Sierra said. “Mark’s been trying to raise you on your cell.”

“I...left it in my room.” Esperanza said. “There wasn’t a lot of time.”

“Is your family all right?”

“Papa has a broken arm, we all got cut up, I think, but...we’re okay.” Esperanza said. Sierra hugged her fiercely. They went down together to help her parents up the steps.

The truck Sierra had arrived in wasn’t Mark’s. It belonged to some construction company. When Esperanza asked about it, Sierra replied that Mark’s Silverado was in a tree. A group of contractors was helping to search the ruins of other houses. The storm had sliced a swath through the neighborhood. Brick buildings stood roofless, and wooden houses like hers had been transmuted into toothpicks. An ambulance arrived to care for the injured. Against his protests, Esperanza and her mother put her father in the ambulance next to a man whose leg had been pinned under his refrigerator and a woman who was in labor. Mrs. Cortez also rode in the ambulance to keep an eye on her husband, and Sierra gave her her cell phone number so she could let Esperanza know when they made it to the hospital.

With her parents safely away, Esperanza was free to let her tears flow at last. Sierra held her gently, guiding her to the back of the pickup. It was soon under way, returning to Mark’s house where an army had assembled itself from the county’s population.

“This makes everybody present or accounted for.” Sierra said when they reached Mark. Esperanza threw herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. “The restaurant’s gone, Mark. We passed by on our way to E’s. It’s gutted.”

“Not to worry,” Mark said, “Everything that’s really important is going to be all right. Insurance will take care of the rest.” He drew Sierra into his embrace as well, so that Esperanza was sandwiched between them. He kissed each of them on the head, and Esperanza felt a welcome calm seeping into her.

Sierra’s cell rang. Sierra answered, then handed it to Esperanza.

“Mom?” Esperanza asked.

“Hi, honey, were doing fine. We were taken to North Side Baptist Hospital.”

“Don’t tell them Papa’s not a Baptist.” Esperanza whispered. Her mother laughed.

“It’ll be our secret, baby. How are you doing?”

“I’m with some friends who are helping out some of the people whose houses were wrecked in the storm. Actually, I think I’ll help out, too, if I can.”

“All right, Esperanza, I’ll call you again later, okay?”

“Okay, Mama. I love you. Both of you.”

“We love you too, baby. Bye-bye.”

“Bye-bye.” Esperanza said, and waited for her mother to hang up before she closed the cell phone.

“I think you should take a rest before you try anything ambitious, E.” Mark said. “You look like you need it.” Sierra helped her into what she first thought was some kind of bunker, but actually turned out to be a home. Pallets were laid out in the living room, and in several of the bedrooms downstairs. Sierra led Esperanza into a much larger bedroom. There were girls she knew, and women she didn’t, clustered on a huge bed. There were other girls lying on an inflatable bed in the walk-in closet. Sierra helped Esperanza out of her shoes, and the two young women spooned together on the bed. Sierra said something to her, but Esperanza didn’t hear because she was already fast asleep.

* * *

Mark watched as the crane lowered his Silverado to the ground at last. He was going to have to replace the gas tank, oil pan, left headlight and two tires for sure, but at least it wasn’t in danger of falling on some curious kid anymore. His insurance adjuster had arrived at last to survey the damage. They still hadn’t found the trailer he’d lived in during the early stages of building his home. Esperanza was translating for some Mexican immigrants who didn’t speak any English. He heard a voice approaching from behind and turned to see who it was.

“...massive destruction, thankfully very few fatalities, but the most profound effect of the storm appears to be the pulling together of the community.” The reporter was young, female, Asian and cute in a J-pop kind of way. “Before government emergency workers even arrived, impromptu disaster-aid centers sprang from almost nothing and began taking in the storm-tossed. One of the two biggest is at the home of local millionaire Li Hua, and the other is here, in and around the home of local small-business owner Mark MacLeod.” By this time the woman—or perhaps girl, she hardly looked old enough to be an anchorwoman—had reached Mark, and the cameraman was now pointing the camera at him. “Mr. MacLeod, Anne Kazeno, Channel 4, may we have a word?”

“I dunno, I sort of need all the ones I have.” Mark joked. Anne laughed prettily. “Oh, well. What I do ya for?” This time it was the cameraman who laughed. The interview was fairly routine, except for the fact that Anne was sending out all the signals of a girl with a crush.

He gave Anne and her cameraman a view inside the house, so they could see some of the people sheltering there from the intermittent rain.

“Wow, an underground house...” Anne remarked.

“Yeah, great place to ride out a storm, especially with those drains in the landing to keep the rain from flooding the entrance. As a matter of fact, several of my neighbors did exactly that. When the one-way train to Oz is rumbling outside, that’s no time to be selfish, don’t you know?” The sound of approaching helicopters interrupted them, and they went back outside. A fleet of cargo helicopters appeared, lowering stacks of crates into a clearing before flying away again. While the cameraman was getting a good shot of the helicopters, Mark took Anne’s hand and wrote his cell number on her palm. Perhaps he was imagining it, but he thought he felt her shudder under his touch.

* * *

It took a further two days to get power back to all those whose homes were still intact. The owners of four intact hotels opened their doors to the newly homeless free of charge, dwindling the populations of Li Hua’s and Mark’s houses almost to normal. Mark sat on the hood of his Silverado, watching as contractors from the same construction company that built his house (and helped out immeasurably during the storm’s aftermath) took orders from everyone in the neighborhood for underground houses of their own.

“If everyone starts living in a Hobbit-hole, we’re going to have to call this place Hobbiton.” he muttered amusedly.

“What can we say, you’re a trend-setter.” Esperanza said, leaning her head on his left shoulder.

“If it’s you they’re copying, how can they go wrong?” Sierra asked, laying her head on his right one.

“Well, some of my activities might not seem so laudable to outsiders.” Mark responded.

“Their loss.” Sierra sighed.

Es verdad, amiga.“ Esperanza replied.

“Well, there’s no school until they get the roof replaced, and no work until the restaurant’s rebuilt. Let’s get everyone together...provided we can pry Tyra away from those girls.”

“She does know their parents are perfectly capable of taking care of them, right?” Esperanza asked.

“She’s just the nurturing type.” Mark said. “She just needs something else to devote that kind of attention to.”

“Hmm, I wonder what we could use to distract her.” Sierra said slyly.

To be continued...