They ran to the stairwell inside the parking deck, covering their heads and crouching down, reverting instantly to the children they once were, practicing tornado drills in their elementary school hallway. Waiting for the entire ancient garage to collapse around them, they shouted the Hail Mary to each other.

Minutes later, the storm began to diminish. The walls stopped shaking, the winds ceased howling. Their necks sore, the two men dared to venture out.

The parking deck was covered in shattered glass and leaves. The men ran to their car, finding it intact but covered with a fine coating of dirt. They jumped in, speeding towards the first ramp, and almost drove right into the congressman and a group of people running up.

At the sight of the beleaguered Flip Smith soaked from the knees down, the men jumped out of the car, leaving it running. Beside him was the billionaire, carrying a little black girl. A stunner of a woman, soaked more than any of them, walked alongside a tall redheaded man who looked familiar. A kid followed, shivering.

“Congressman! Are you alright?”

“No,” he responded. “I am not. But I am not hurt.”

“That storm came out of nowhere! Flip, we tried to get to you!”

“We’re getting the car. Got to get these people warmed up,” Quincy said, motioning for the others to follow.

“What happened out here?” Flip asked. “What did you see?”

“It came out of nowhere! In the middle of the day! We were afraid that whole building was going to collapse on top of you, but I guess the funnel turned. You should have seen it! You know I check the weather all the time, sir, and I promise you there was no warning at all about a storm.”

They’d never seen the Congressman look so old. “There’s a lot I don’t understand—”

The revving of an engine came from behind them, following by the squealing of tires. They turned to see the Town Car heading down the ramp.

Quincy slammed on the brakes beside them, rolling down the window. “This is kind of a crap move, Flip, but we’re kicking you off the ride. I think you’re ready to get off.”

“Sir, get out of the car—”

“No, John, let them go,” Flip said, holding out his arm. “He’s right. I don’t want to have anything more to do with this.”

Quincy quickly glanced back at the people in the car. “Probably a good call,” he said, driving out into the brightening daylight.

EIGHTEEN

It was fitting that it was the four of them again.