The Storm Drain

I’ve always been afraid of severe weather. Living in Iowa, I’ve seen my unfair share of terrifying destruction due to nature. A derecho shredded hundreds of trees and annihilated acres of crops. Ice storms have caused horrific car accidents and knocked out the power for days, even weeks. Severe thunderstorms have flooded cities and swept away unfortunate wildlife that couldn’t find shelter. Snow has trapped people in their homes for days on end. I have woken up in a cold sweat more times than I can count from nightmares of my house burning down, trying frantically to find my dogs and grab them before the flames lick at their heels and the smoke chokes out their last breath.

Iowa is also primed to see tornadoes. Growing up, I was used to practicing tornado drills in school. All students would line the inner most halls that didn’t have windows, kneel against the wall while holding a textbook over their heads and neck, in case debris began to fall. Our home had a small cramped crawl space beneath our stairs that was kept stocked with blankets and flashlights in the event we needed a safe haven. We were taught if you happen to be out when a tornado is spotted, hide in a ditch, as low to the ground as you can get.

Usually, you can stay pretty safe, thanks to the tornado alerts that creep across the bottom of the screen on local channels. Cell phones will go off with an almost violent tone to warn about severe weather in the area. Radio stations interrupt music to tell you to seek shelter. Tall sirens scattered throughout towns will shriek. There are many ways to be notified about bad weather before it’s on top of you.

A tornado watch means severe weather is coming, people should prepare accordingly. A tornado warning though, that means a cyclone has been spotted. You need to find safety, and fast.

I encountered the menacing beast face to face. It was Friday evening, around 5:30. I had just left work and was ready to drive into the weekend. It would be about 40 minutes before I got home, so I always used that time to air my grievances related to the ignorant and shockingly clueless customers I helped that day.

With the spreading orange sunset leading me through the vast countryside, I cranked the radio and got ready to rock out to some music to decompress from the long week. Yelling along with my favorite songs always helped. I was drumming my fingers against the steering wheel, singing as loud as my voice would let me. I was in the middle of a high note in the chorus when my solo concert was interrupted. The familiar gritty tones pulled me out of my haze and I focused in on the sounds coming from the speakers.

“The National Weather Service has issued a tornado warning for the following counties,” the robotic voice droned. “Effective until 06:15:00 pm central time.” I heard my county listed and my jaw clenched. I looked through the windshield but didn’t see much, just a few gray clouds and the darkening sky. That seemed weird, it was a warning already. Maybe they had issued the watch while I was at work. We didn’t have live tv or radio on in the building during the operating hours. I kept my eyes ahead and stepped on the gas a little harder as my grip on the steering wheel tightened.

I didn’t want to be caught out here if the funnel cloud touched down. To the left of me were rows and rows of trees. Deep, dense timber that stretched for miles. To the right were acres of corn and bean farms that seemed to meet the horizon. I drove this old country road everyday and I knew there wouldn’t be a house–or any building for that matter–for another 25 minutes or so.

My car jolted stiffly to the right of the road. A large gust of wind hit me and knocked my little car towards the gravel edge. I gripped the steering wheel tighter and slowly accelerated. It didn’t look like bad weather just a moment ago. Yet now, peering through the windshield, I saw the sky churning gray and dusty tan clouds. A few fat raindrops plopped onto the windows as I tried to drive faster with caution. The wind whipped all around me, tree branches to my left trembling threateningly, as if to warn me they could snap off at any moment.

I was so distracted by the trees violently thrashing and the crescendo of howling wind that I almost missed it. Up ahead of me, almost directly above the road, a funnel cloud was forming. The dust from the road was swirling in a large mass about the size of my car. I knew this tornado was forming fast, and it was coming right for me.

My adrenaline shot through my veins as I pulled over to the side of the road and quickly scrambled into the ditch. The ground was damp from the sudden rain and my hair drifted above my head, tangling with the increasingly stronger wind. My clothes were beginning to soak through and stick to my quivering body. As much as I wanted to stay low to the ground, I knew I had to look. I peeked my head up and looked just above the edge of the now muddy road. About three miles up I saw it. The funnel that was a cloud surrounded by dust just moments ago, was now touching down. It looked like it was already the width of two, maybe even three of my cars. I knew I needed to get somewhere else if I wanted to stay safe.

My survival instinct was in full force. I didn't have time to consider what to do, my body just knew I needed to stay alive. I frantically searched around me in the small ditch and spotted a storm drain a few yards ahead. Relieved and scared, I began to army crawl towards it. Heavy rain was now pouring over me, the ditch seemed to be filling with it. I knew I was slithering through poison ivy and trash and would be miserable later, but I needed to stay alive to worry about that. I reached the storm drain and realized it was much smaller than I thought. The opening was a little less than three feet, barely big enough to stuff myself into. But I had to try.

Slowly, I inched my body into the dank hole, shimmying my shoulders to slide as quickly as I could. The smell hit me like a wall. A stench of rotten eggs fused with old leaves that smelled like sewage. A faint whiff of fresh death wafted into my nostrils, singeing the hairs. I couldn’t stop myself as I vomited. Now, a new odor joined in. I still needed to get in deeper as I could feel the wind and heavy rain now from my butt to my feet that were outside the hole.

I attempted to hold my breath as I squirmed forward, sliding through my own vomit as well as the slimy grime that layered the viscous drain. Though, holding my breath did nothing. The stench had already seeped into my clothes and embedded itself into my nose.

On top of that, I couldn’t see anything. There was nothing but murky blackness. The other end must have been covered with dead branches or rocks. Not even a sliver of gray light came through. I continued on.

When I no longer felt the sleeting rain beating at my legs, I let out a short sigh. In that dark tube, the wailing wind and harsh rain seemed to echo and crash into my ears over and over. I felt the unseen around me. My vomit and the muck beneath me reached up my chest and hugged my throat. My arms were outstretched in front of me, unable to lift them off the ground more than an inch or two. The slippery goo stuck to my hands. I felt light prickles as spiders skittered across my face. My hands were disgusting and I couldn’t really bring them to my face anyway, since my shoulders were pinned to the cylindrical walls. So I grimaced as I had to let them dart around my head.

Sudden worry consumed me as I thought about my home. My two dogs were there all alone. Bonnie was probably hiding under the bed, terrified of the screaming wind and shaking siding. Zoey liked to look out the window when it rained, and a sudden vision of the glass shattering flooded my mind. Her small face pierced with splintered shards. An image of the large oak tree that shaded the entirety of my yard crashing through my roof replaced it. The tree could hit power lines, bringing down live wires into water from the relentless rain, sparks hitting my home’s front door. Flames and smoke rising around my dogs’ frightened faces filled my head.

Breaking glass from somewhere outside the storm drain brought me out of the macabre possibilities playing out in my mind. Crunching metal and shrieking wind followed. My car must be getting destroyed by the tornado. That meant the cyclone was right on top of me. I squeezed a couple inches further into the ghastly darkness. I needed to stay alive so I could get back to my poor scared ladies. My ears popped as the air pressure pressed in on me, making the long dark tube feel even smaller.

Just a little longer, I thought. The storm had to pass sometime. But then what? I had forgotten my phone in my car when I rushed to get into the ditch. By the sounds of it, my car may not even be there when I can get out of this hellhole and back to the road. The nearest building was still about a 20 minute drive, meaning it was approximately four and half hours walking. My chest tightened as I imagined the long walk I might have to make.

Again I was violently pulled out of my thoughts. A deafening crash reverberated through the tunnel, my ears ringing in pain. I felt a heavy mass at the back of my soles. The pitch blackness of the storm drain seemed to intensify. My car was now covering the drain opening. I squirmed back as far as I could and felt my shoes hit metal. I struggled to kick at it, trying to see if it would move. It didn’t budge.

Absolute terror filled my entire body. Again I felt adrenaline rip throughout my being. My blood was pumping and my muscles tensed, ready to run. Another ear-splitting shriek penetrated the tunnel. It wasn’t until I caught my breath that I realized it was my own voice, screaming in fear. I was trapped. I didn’t know how far forward I would have to crawl to get to the opposite end. And if I did get there, I didn’t know what was blocking it. No light was coming through, so it had to be a large pile of something. What if it was just as heavy as the car behind me? What if both ends were covered and any attempt of pushing through was rendered utterly useless?

I took a deep breath, the vile stench still strangling my throat. My eyes were watering, both from fear and the acrid air enveloping me. I felt panic rising from my belly and knew if I didn’t do something soon, I would be stuck in here hyperventilating that rancid air. I shut my eyes–pointless since I couldn’t see anything anyway–and counted to 10 slowly. I felt my heart rate slow back to as normal of a pace as it could, given the situation. I readied my feet to kick at the car behind me. If I could get it to move even a few inches, maybe I could find a way to slide back through a broken window. Or even try to feel around for my phone, maybe if it fell to a spot where I could maneuver it up to me and call for help.

Bracing my feet against the metal, I pushed back as hard as I could. Nothing. I tried again. And again. Once more. Sweat now dripping down my forehead and into my eyes, I felt any last shred of hope I had left evaporate into the void around me. I looked into the unending darkness and cried. Outside the storm drain, the weather was dying down. The lessening wind and harsh rain was now background music to the sounds I heard around me. Scampering feet of unseen creatures, the low squeaks and screeches.