Chapter 1
Present day
Tornado alley is my favorite place to be.
Oklahoma has the best of cool air from the north and moist air from the Gulf, creating the perfect conditions for a twister.
Realizing I love storms doesn’t mean I love the damage they leave behind. It’s why I do what I do. I chase to gather as much data as I can so the communities in Oklahoma are prepared for the worst.
Even if I’m chasing a thunderstorm that won’t produce a tornado, it might have harsh winds, heavy rain, and hail. People deserve to be aware of any type of weather, no matter the severity.
It’s why I keep all the Dust Bunnies social media accounts up to date. No matter how early or late, our followers will know what is going on and what they need to be ready for.
Dust Bunnies is the storm chaser team created by my best friends and me when we were in college.
It was an all-girls’ squad until Ruka joined us.
He is more of a protector, and not that I would tell him this, but he is definitely one of the girls.
We are living our dream, and I don’t know how this life could get any better.
Between our social media, live streams, giving local weather stations real-time data, my photography of the storms landing in popular weather-related magazines, and copies of the images selling on our website, Dust Bunnies is doing very well.
Better than we ever could have imagined.
Never did I think that by the time I was twenty-five, I’d be living the life I thought I’d have when I was much older.
“Nari! Come on. Let’s go. Everyone is meeting us at the station!” My brother, Ruka, yells from the other room in Japanese.
“I’m coming!” I reply, even though I’m nowhere near ready.
I told our parents I would call this week, and I want to do it before we get on the road. We will travel a lot starting today, following storm cells to see how much action we can catch.
Dancing into a pair of jeans, I slip on an old grey t-shirt that has been washed too many times. The logo is so faded that I can’t remember what it was, and the material is thin, yet super soft.
I toss my long black hair into a messy bun and look at myself in the mirror. “Phone.” I pat my pockets and go through my morning checklist. “Check. Teeth brushed. Check. Washed my face, check.” My phone blares, and I reach for it to see who is calling.
It’s Mom.
Ruka pokes his head in my room, his shaggy black hair nearly covering his eyes. “Come on. We’re going to miss it, or worse, the Twisted Trackers will get ahead of us.”
Since Ruka and I are roommates, we only speak Japanese when we are directly talking to one another or speaking with family.
“It’s Mom,” I explain, lifting my phone in the air to show him that not only is she calling, but it’s a video request.
Ruka ducks, so he doesn’t hit his head on the doorway, welcoming himself into my room to take a seat on the edge of the bed.
I take the spot next to him and swipe the green button across the screen.
“Okaasan,” Ruka and I say in unison, with a big smile on our faces.
My mother’s face lights up when she sees us both. “Did you receive my care package yet? I put all of your favorite snacks in there,” she asks.
Her hair is up in a ponytail, a few strands peppered with silver framing her face. She has a few wrinkles around her eyes that hint at her age, something I try hard not to think about.
She is sitting outside on her porch, enjoying the beautiful sun in Hawaii as the waves crash behind her.
I miss that sound so much. My parents immigrated there from Japan when my mom was pregnant with Ruka.
It’s an absolute paradise, but it doesn’t give me the storms that the wide-open plains of Oklahoma give me.
“We haven’t received anything.” I frown, wishing the care package was here. Okaasan sends the best goodies, and I could really use something from home right now.
“It will get there,” she says. “Has an entire ocean to cross.” Okaasan takes a sip of tea. “Are you being careful in your storm chasing? I watched your last live. That was a close call, you two.”
I hold in my laugh, loving how worried she is about us. The last tornado we chased was an EF-0. That’s being generous. It kicked up some dust and grazed our car. Our lives were not in jeopardy.
“It wasn’t dangerous, Okaasan. I promise. We are being careful,” Ruka reassures, his voice soft and playful.
“Chasing storms will always be dangerous. They are unpredictable, no matter how much you think you know about them. Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“We promise,” my brother and I say at the same time.
The reverberating rumble of thunder has me turning my head to look out the window.
“I know that look,” she sighs. “I’ll let you two go. Please, be careful. Text me when you’re—”
“Safe and settled for the night.” Ruka and I laugh when we speak at the same time again.
“We love you and miss you. I’ll have Ruka update you. Tell Otousan we love and miss him too.”
“I will when your father comes home.” My mom blows us a kiss, ending the video call, and I’m left with a massive wave of homesickness.
Ruka and I left Hawaii for storm chasing on the mainland. We knew we could have better careers here. Our parents are supportive, but it doesn’t make us miss them any less.
“Come on, let’s go.” Ruka jumps from the bed and leans against my dresser. “I have your favorite tea ready in a thermos. We aren’t late yet, but if we wait any longer, we might as well wait for another storm to come through and give this one to the Trackers.”
I nod, slapping my hands on my thighs before standing. “We aren’t giving them anything. I bet they haven’t even tried chasing the storm yet. You know they always wait on us.”
He raises his hand for a high-five, and I meet it with a hard slap.
“Damn right. They can’t do anything without us.
I’m going to do a once-over of the Dust Bunny.
I’ll meet you outside.” Dust Bunny is what we named the brand-new top-of-the-line storm vehicle that we got from one of the biggest car manufacturers in the world.
It’s a great partnership. We film what we do naturally in storms, and they get great marketing. It’s a win-win situation.
Ruka heads out, and a few seconds later, the front door opens, and the screen door slams in his wake.
I sigh, glancing over my shoulder at my empty bedroom.
I live minimally. The bed takes up most of the space.
There’s a full-body mirror leaning against the wall, and a dresser I bought at a thrift store for ten bucks that holds all of my clothes.
Then there’s a small nightstand to the left of my bed with a small lava lamp on it.
I love watching the liquid inside move and glow at night. It helps me sleep. There’s a peace to the slow swaying dance inside the glass that helps ease the restlessness in my soul.
Other than that, the room is bare. There’s no love here. There’s no one waiting for me to come home. Chasing is my heart, my entire being, my purpose. I’m mesmerized by every cloud formation. A thunderstorm makes my heart skip a beat like no man has ever done for me.
Sometimes, I do dream about coming home to a warm bed with someone waiting with open arms. My kind of work can be isolating. Many men find what I do to be intimidating or a job for a ‘man’. But not Ruka. He has never judged me or belittled me for doing what I do.
Sometimes I wish I had someone to hold me after a day in the rain. Having to warm up all alone is a lot different when there aren’t arms to wrap around you.
The car horn blares from outside in long, irritating beats. I roll my eyes at Ruka’s impatience. Slipping on my black boots, I rush out of the door, and I’m hit with a big gust of wind.
The chairs on the porch rock back and forth from the force. The sky darkens as the sun sets, painting a canvas with oranges, yellows, and deep reds. The night is creeping in, villainous tendrils of clouds strangling what’s left of the beauty.
Chasing a storm cell at night adds another layer of fear and excitement. In the dark, the cloud formations are too hard to see as they disguise themself in the gloomy cloak of the sky.
All we have is radar, knowledge, and instinct driving us to safety.
Ruka honks the horn again, pulling me out of my trance. That always happens when I’m outside. I get caught marveling at the beauty in nature’s web, and I find I never want to leave.
“I’m coming! I’m coming! Jeez.” I jump off the porch, kicking up dust as I run to the passenger side.
“You take forever,” Ruka mumbles. “You could sit on the porch for hours just to watch the day turn to night.”
“That sounds lovely. I think I might do that someday soon.”
“As if you haven’t.” Ruka smirks, pulling out of the red dirt driveway.
“As if it makes you love me less.” I giggle, rolling down the window so I can feel the warm breeze on my face.
My eyes scan the open fields, loving the endless landscapes Oklahoma provides to feed my obsession. Cows and horses graze, unbothered by the storm a few miles out. That tells me the cell is heading in the opposite direction, or the cows would herd together.
The closer we get to the storm, the darker the skies become. The murky clouds become thicker, the thunder louder, and the winds become stronger. The sunset is quickly eaten by the gluttonous monster spreading across the sky.
Ruka whistles. “This is going to be a good one.”
I peek my head out of the window, smiling. “They always are.” My phone dings, and it’s a message in the Dust Bunnies group text. “It’s Millie. She said her, Jessica, and Reina are at the station, and the Trackers are already there.” I groan, slamming the back of my head against my seat.
“I told you we should have left earlier,” Ruka scolds. “I can’t stand those assholes.”
“They like to ride coattails. Let’s be flattered instead of angry.”
“If they try to run me off the road again, I’m going to ram Dust Bunny into them.”
“Ruka, shhh.” I pet the dashboard. “Don’t talk about her like that. She’s too expensive for you to play with.”