Storm Runners

“There was an unspoken rule in the Masters household: The deaths of his mother and sister were not to be talked about, because the subject opened sores that hurt for days.”

John and Chase are all that remain of the Masters family. While this brings them closer together, it also is so painful that they try to avoid thinking about the ones they’ve lost. Now that they’re the only two, they do their best to take care of each other.

“When Chase told him how terrible he felt about leaving the tools outside, his father laughed and said, ‘That bolt of lightning was waiting for me my whole life, Chase. If it hadn’t nailed me in the backyard, it would have gotten me in the front yard, walking to my truck, or later at the jobsite. You can’t hide from your fate.’”

Chase’s father doesn’t blame his son’s negligence for the lightning bolt that struck and nearly killed him. He believes that people’s outcomes are more about their own decisions than those of others—that our lives follow paths meant for us and no one else—and he doesn’t want his son to shy away from his own life projects for fear they might entangle others.

“When my father got struck by lightning, so did I, Chase thought. When Mom and Monica died, so did I…a little…. ‘I guess you can’t separate your fate from those you’re with,’ Chase said quietly.”

Chase ponders the most devastating experiences of his young life and tries to make sense of them. He feels connected to his family members and suffers for them almost as if their pain becomes his. As the story progresses and Chase makes new friends, he’ll do everything he can to protect them when a hurricane strikes.

“His father called the fifth-wheel the Shack. It was where they lived. It was nicer on the inside than the outside. The rough exterior was the result of a hailstorm in Oklahoma two weeks ago. Chase had been inside the Shack when it hit. The worst part had been the sound. His ears had rung for twenty-four hours after the ten-minute pounding. When he’d opened the door, the ground had been covered in golf-ball-size ice pellets for as far as he could see. A mile away a farmer had been killed running from his John Deere combine to his house. He should have stayed inside the combine.”

As he tours American weather disasters with his father, Chase learns firsthand the dangers nature can inflict on humans. Though often painful, these experiences teach him to respect the power of natural forces and take precautions against them. This hard-earned wisdom will help him in the days ahead.

“They always parked the Shack & Shop on private property—high ground—at least forty miles from where his father thought he and Tomás would be working. Thought because they didn’t really know where they’d find work. That depended on where the storm hit and the amount of damage it caused—two things nobody could predict. But Chase’s father was pretty good at guessing.”

John plans his job campaigns thoroughly, taking care to protect his equipment while he visits potential centers of oncoming weather calamities. Disaster repair work involves disasters, and preparation must be exacting because lives and property are at stake, and any neglect can be lethal. Chase absorbs this wisdom and the training that goes with it because he, too, might easily find himself in the eye of a storm.

“Sitting at his feet, next to the Thermos, was his go bag—a daypack that each of them had within reach twenty-four hours a day. Inside was everything they needed to survive for three days: satellite phone (for when the landlines and cell signals failed), first aid kit, rain gear, bottled water, camp stove, flares, freeze-dried food, energy bars, knife, butane lighter, binoculars, and several other items—none of which they’d had to use…yet.”

Chase’s father is a stickler for preparation. The world of storm running is dangerous, and a storm chaser must always be prepared for emergencies. The go bag, with its precise contents, symbolizes that dedication to safety and thorough planning.

“Little people can have regular-size children. My older sister is little. My older brother is big. Huge, in fact. He’s a defensive tackle for the Georgia Bulldogs.”

Nicole introduces herself to Chase as the regular-sized daughter of Marco, director of the Rossi Circus winter headquarters and a little person with dwarfism, a genetic alteration that affects only some descendants. The author signals that size and personal worth are unrelated and that human value comes from who one is rather than how one looks.

“He reached into one of the boxes and pulled out a photograph of a man sitting on top of an elephant. ‘This is my dad. He was killed by an elephant when I was thirteen. He was quite a guy too.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘Thanks. It was a long time ago, but I still miss him. Some things you just don’t get over, I guess.’ Chase understood this all too well. He’d wondered if he was ever going to get over the deaths of his mom and Monica.”

The extended cross-country trip shared by Chase and his father is, in some respects, a way for them to deal with the deaths of their family members. The adventure gives them something positive to focus on, while the occasional reminder gives them moments in which to grieve. Though Chase learns from Marco that the pain of such loss can persist for decades, it also clarifies that his grief is normal and that many other people have experienced similar tragedies.

“[H]e was getting tired of tries. That’s what his mother had called a statement or even a silence that was not quite the truth and not exactly a lie. When Chase, or anyone in the family, pulled one on her, she’d say, ‘Nice try, now try again.’”

Chase wants to live up to his mother’s level of integrity, but on the road, it’s tempting to let people have a better, if wrong, impression about him. He’s conflicted about his father’s work, which involves manipulating people into hiring John. He doesn’t want the Rossi family—especially their daughter Nicole—to distrust him. Still, it’s a struggle to be honest all the time.

“When they’d arrived at Palm Breeze Middle School an hour earlier, the sky had been clear, with no wind. Now it was flat gray. Dead palm fronds were tumbling across the soccer field out back. Chase began to get a strange feeling about Emily and wondered if this was what his dad experienced when he made his predictions, or what a lightning rod felt just before a strike. A tingling sensation. A spark of premonition…”

Still struggling with his feelings about his mom and sister’s sudden passing and his father’s brush with death by lightning—not to mention the loss of control over his fate that he feels from those experiences—Chase listens to any sign or portent that might give him a hint about what trouble he might face and how to avoid it. His keen senses and growing intuitions become gauges that he monitors for signs and portents; with them, alongside his orderly preparedness, he nurtures a sense of renewed control over his fate.

“You know the drill. If you think someone’s making a bonehead decision, don’t go along with them. Remember that you’ve had more experience with storms than they have. Stick with what I’ve taught you. Do what you think is right. If the storm hits up there, save yourself. You’re no good to anybody if you’re dead…including yourself.”

John reminds his son that he already knows more about storms than most people, that he’s well trained, and that his instincts are probably better than those of others. John also repeats the dark truism that, to help others, one must first help oneself. It sounds selfish, but it prevents the alternative, being seriously injured or dead, which is of little help in an emergency.

“He was not afraid to ride on a bus. But there wasn’t time to explain to her what his father called The Gut Barometer, or TGB. ‘Everyone has one,’ his father had told him. ‘It works just like a real barometer: When the pressure drops, the weather is going to change. The TGB is in your solar plexus. You feel the pressure drop in your gut.’ Most of the time people ignored their gut gauge, and most of the time it was okay to ignore it, until the one time it wasn’t okay. Chase knew this was one of those times.”

Chase knows in his gut that the hurricane will strike Palm Breeze and not St. Petersburg as predicted. He argues that the middle school students should stay overnight in the relative safety of the middle school’s concrete buildings, but Dr. Krupp overrules him. Chase boards a bus mainly because Nicole is on it, and he doesn’t want her alone when the hurricane hits.

“‘That bus driver’s lost,’ Rashawn said. ‘What makes you think that?’ Chase asked. ‘Been sitting behind him since we left school. He talks to himself. He also curses … a lot. Everything was fine until he dumped off those last two kids. He took what he thought was a shortcut.’”

Rashawn pays attention to the world around her, and she notices signs that the bus driver is way out of his element in the stormy weather. Her alertness, and her warning to Chase about the driver, will help them prepare for the trouble ahead. Rashawn proves to be levelheaded and capable, traits that will benefit the three of them.

“‘Daddy’s been dealing with gators forever,’ Rashawn said. ‘I suspect the gators are all riding out the storm on the bottom. The bus probably jarred one loose and it was popping up to get some air.’ Chase was happy to hear Rashawn’s little gator lecture. It meant she wasn’t nearly as frightened as he’d thought she was. If they wanted to survive the storm, they could not panic. They had to keep their senses about them.”

Chase is learning that Rashawn, though younger than he and Nicole, can stay calm during a crisis. She also lives nearby and knows things about the area, which will greatly help as the trio tries to find its path home. They’re lucky to have Rashawn with them.

“Rashawn was doing a lot better than he expected, but every thirty minutes, like clockwork, she froze and burst into tears. The fits didn’t last long, and she was perfectly fine when they were over […].”

Rashawn knows how to express her feelings without letting them interfere with herself or others. In the stress and danger of their situation, she feels fear and sadness, and she simply cries for a moment, collects herself, and moves on. It’s not a perfect solution, but it’s pretty advanced for a sixth grader.

“Mark […] was packing his camera up. Cindy called him over. ‘What’s happening?’ ‘Do you want to head up north to the hurricane of the century with two complete strangers, without pay, without telling the station…oh, and you’ll probably get fired if the hurricane doesn’t kill you first?’ ‘Sounds good,’ Mark answered. ‘Let me get my camera.’”

People who make a living amid danger have great courage: They head toward trouble instead of away from it like most sensible people. Hurricane Emily is the storm of the century, and reporter Cindy knows that the real action is up north, where the hurricane rages, and not down in St. Petersburg, where Emily is a no-show. John’s invitation to join him as he searches for Chase proves irresistible to Cindy. He and his son embrace risk, and others who share that sentiment are drawn to them, like Cindy and Mark.

“‘Fate,’ Chase said. ‘What?’ Nicole and Rashawn said at the same time. ‘Fate,’ Chase repeated. ‘I mean what are the chances of a thirteen-foot gator hauling out onto this levee during a hurricane and dying lengthwise across the road at the very moment we need to walk past?’”

Stumbling through a hurricane on their way to Nicole’s home, she and Chase and Rashawn confront a gigantic obstacle that might come alive and bite them. Chase calls it “fate” in honor of his father’s belief that fate stalks people, and none can escape their destiny. The question, therefore, isn’t what one’s fate might be but how one will respond to it.

“‘Reporters should report what they know, not what they think or want to have happen. Just once in my life I’d like to see a reporter, or a talking head with a half-hour time slot to fill, say, “Sorry, folks, we don’t have any news worth reporting tonight. Instead we’re going to run an episode of SpongeBob SquarePants. Check back with us tomorrow and we’ll let you know if anything has changed.”’ John laughed. ‘That’s never going to happen.’ ‘You’re right, and it’s a shame.’”

Investigative reporter Cindy explains her professional ethics to John, who concurs that news agencies often prefer overblown speculation to the truth. What’s really happening can be uncertain or complicated, which is less exciting and harder to understand than sensational rumors. The public likes its news dramatic, and news outlets sometimes hand it to people that way, regardless of its accuracy, without blushing.

“‘So, are you a man who takes the road less traveled?’ Cindy asked. ‘I’m just a working guy who travels roads.’ ‘I don’t believe you, John.’”

One of the story’s little mysteries is why John makes his living the way he does. He presents himself as a Good Samaritan who helps homeowners prepare for weather disasters, then later charges them stiffly to repair their buildings. Around reporter Cindy, John is cagey and avoids the topic of work, but in all other respects, he appears to be an upstanding, capable, honorable man. Something in his tragic history caused him to make the jump from construction manager to storm-chasing repairman—perhaps it was the lightning bolt that struck him—but the reader can only speculate about his motives at this point in the three-book saga.

“Richard stared at the camera for a dramatic beat, then gave the crew a nod to shut the equipment down. ‘Let’s get out of here.’ Huddled together against the wind and rain, they shuffled fifteen feet to their left, yanked open a door, and stumbled into a large gymnasium filled with people, cots, food, water, warmth, light, the smell of coffee, and the hum of generators. His producer met them with an armload of fluffy white towels, hot coffee, and a dozen glazed donuts. Richard grabbed a towel and looked down at the box of donuts. ‘No sugar donuts?’”

Richard and his video team manage to shoot footage outdoors during a hurricane. It’s a brave-looking performance, but in fact, they’re a few steps away from safety and comfort. They’re not anywhere near the kind of trouble the video suggests. The real heroes—Chase, Nicole, and Rashawn—are struggling through the deepest part of the storm on foot.

“What Chase saw was a sixth-grade girl with incredible courage. Instead of succumbing to paralyzing fear, like any normal person would in a storm like this, she’d been able to figure out the pattern to Nicole’s swimming. This meant that Rashawn was no longer afraid. Fear extinguishes thought. In the past year, not a week had gone by without his father reminding him of this. Rashawn had just reminded him again.”

With Nicole struggling to swim ashore against violent headwinds, Rashawn might have panicked, but instead, she stays calm and reasons out that Nicole has found a way to make progress across the stormy lake. Chase, accustomed to emergencies, admires Rashawn for her courage. The author’s point is that calm reasoning helps people find ways to understand and prevail over emergencies.

“‘[W]e’re not crazy…well, not that crazy. We were looking at how a levee disintegrates. It’s not often that you get to see something like that. It’s interesting.’ ‘I’ve got news for you, John,’ Cindy said. ‘You are crazy.’ ‘Nah, we’re storm runners.’”

John and Tomás come upon a collapsing section of the levee they’ve been driving on and crawl out to the edge of the broken asphalt to inspect its underside. Examining a dangerously unstable roadway during a Category 5 hurricane is something no sane person would do. However, John and Tomás make their living from weather catastrophes, and they’ll grab at any information that can make them better able to withstand the risks. It’s not that they’re mentally unhinged but that they love the excitement of moving toward danger instead of away from it. John refers to himself and his business partner as “storm runners,” which is the only direct reference in the text to the book’s title.

“He was so exhausted he was having a hard time focusing. The only things keeping him going were Nicole, who had to be more exhausted than he was, and Rashawn, who had turned out to be a bulldozer of will and endurance.”

Chase has learned to care about Nicole and Rashawn. Their level-headedness and athleticism, combined with his expertise in emergencies, have quickly shaped them into a well-functioning team. Alone and near the end of his strength, he might be tempted to give up, but as part of such a group, Chase wants especially that his companions get safely to shelter. This thought alone gives him an extra measure of stamina.