The wind died suddenly, an eerie quiet falling.
“Tandy?” Click called out, running through the tall grass to get to her.
“Click?” She wavered, too dizzy to react or move quickly. “I hit my head,” she called out when he was closer. “Concussion, I think.”
He was there, in front of her, staring down at her. “I’m carrying you,” he said, scooping her up before she could protest. Not that she was going to protest. The world seemed too off-kilter to move. And now was one of those times when they needed to move.
But Click had bigger responsibilities. “Pearl?” she stiffened, panicking.
“Scarlett has her in the storm cellar,” he said, holding her close against his chest as he hurried back across the grass. “Where we’re going.”
Her relief was instantaneous. So was her temper. “Why the hell are you out here? You have a daughter to think of.”
“You’re welcome,” he said.
By the time they reached the storm cellar, the wind had picked up again. It was worse this time, the dirt and grit stinging her cheeks and blinding them. She hung on to Click, knowing she was safe in his arms. He was stumbling forward, somehow managing to stay on his feet. Were they moving? She couldn’t tell.
“About time,” Scarlett said as they descended the concrete steps into the storm cellar.
Tandy wiped her eyes, coughing and sneezing and grabbing the back of her head. The deafening roar of the wind stopped, signaling Click had closed the doors.
Banshee’s nose pressed against her chest, his deep-chested rumble making it easier to breathe.
“Good to see you, too,” she said, stroking his broad neck.
“He came to get Click,” Scarlett said. “Good thing, too, we were about to shut the doors.”
“Ta-dee?” Pearl asked, her little hands gripping hers before Tandy could truly see.
“Hi, Pearl,” she managed, wiping her eyes until it was easier to focus. “Hi, sweet cuddle bunny.” She blinked, still coughing, until she could see. It was surprisingly bright in the small concrete room.
Click kneeled in front of her on the ground. “You doing okay?” he asked, his gaze searching hers.
“Fine,” she said, wishing she meant it. Her head was throbbing and, if the wet sensation on the back of her neck wasn’t sweat, still bleeding.
“Don’t lie to me, Tandy.” His tone was harsh.
She blinked, startled by the severity of the concern in his voice. “Any water?” she whispered.
A water bottle was pressed into her hand.
“Bandana?” she asked. “Towel?”
“Sorry,” Scarlett said, shaking her head.
She nodded. Now that things were a little clearer, she knew her head was bleeding. And throbbing. “I think I need stitches. My head.” She winced as her fingers probed through her hair. When she held her hand out, her fingers were covered in blood.
“Oh, Tandy.” Scarlett’s eyes went round.
“I’m wearing a T-shirt underneath. It’s probably still clean enough to hold against the cut.” She unbuttoned a button of her blouse, but the pain in her shoulder made it difficult. “I hurt my shoulder, too. I need some help.”
“Ta-dee?” Pearl said.
Banshee whimpered.
“I’m okay.” She smiled at the baby girl. “Are we playing hide-and-seek from the wind?”
Click unbuttoned his shirt and tugged it off. “Hold this, Pearl?” he asked, smiling as Pearl wrapped it around her like a robe.