blue gaze on Archer.
“Oh, Archer,” she says with a sigh. “Aren’t you just marvelous?”
He blinks. “Um, thanks.”
“It was heroic, what you did,” Florence continues. “To think of what might have happened if you hadn’t been there.”
Archer and Kelsey exchange puzzled glances.
“Hadn’t been where, Florence?” Kelsey asks.
“Why, in the storm, dear.”
I look at Liv, but she seems like she doesn’t know what Florence is talking about either.
“Didn’t you see last night’s special episode of Storm Hunters?” Florence asks.
“It aired last night?” Kelsey says. “They were supposed to air it after Thanksgiving. Ratings are in such a slump that it might be our last chance for Storm Hunters to avoid cancellation.”
“Well, if this doesn’t give you a boost, nothing will.” Florence pulls a phone out of her pink handbag. “I get text alerts whenever there’s a new episode. And though I’ve seen them all, this was the best one yet. Archer, I do believe you’re about to go viral.”
She whisks her fingers over the screen of her phone.
“Did you watch the special episode?” Kelsey asks Liv.
“No, but we usually download them after they air,” Liv says. “I didn’t know there was a new one either.”
For several years now, Kelsey has been the director of the Spiral Project, a mobile storm-chasing unit comprised of meteorologists, photographers, students, and scientists who head out every year for several weeks to collect data on tornados. Kelsey started the project with funding from the Explorer Channel and an agreement for them to film the storm chasing as a documentary reality show.
Storm Hunters has garnered a large and loyal audience over the years, resulting in a great deal of fan mail for Kelsey and several of the other more prominent scientists, but the past year has seen ratings slide to the point that the cable station brass are thinking of cancelling the show.
Archer has always had a less visible role on Storm Hunters, mostly because he sometimes stays in Mirror Lake to run his garage and doesn’t go on the road with the Spiral Project as often as he did at the beginning. But he and Kelsey love working together, so if Archer can fit it into his schedule, he goes along as driver, mechanic, and all-purpose handyman.
“Here it is,” Florence trills, putting her phone on the table.
We all lean in to look at the video that is just starting to play. The noise of a storm and thunder crackles over the small screen, and sheets of rain spill from the sky.
Kelsey is in the driver’s seat of the armored, storm-chasing vehicle, and Archer—soaked to the skin—is standing outside the open window. Both of them are shouting to be heard over the noise.
“We need to leave,” Kelsey snaps.
“Three minutes,” Archer shouts. “I’ll be right back.”
“Dammit, it’s getting closer,” she yells, and the camera pans to the right to show a funnel cloud forming from the low-hanging black sky.
Archer runs off into a field scattered with trees and thick bushes. The camera follows him. He slogs through the wet grass, his boots caking with mud. Rain splashes against the camera lens. He stops beside a row of bushes and bends to peer beneath it.
“It’s starting to hail,” Kelsey calls. “We’re leaving right now!”
He waves, then reaches beneath the bushes with both hands. He drags out a mud-splattered, soaking wet, shivering dog who struggles to escape his grip. From the distance, it looks like a medium-sized dog black dog with white markings. Archer grabs the dog and hauls it up into his arms before striding back to the car.
“There,” Florence sighs, pressing a hand to her chest. “Look at him.”
On the screen, a flash of lightning illuminates Archer like he’s some sort of animal rescue action hero with his shirt plastered to his chest and his hair wet. He holds the dog closer and slogs through the increasing hail toward the car.
“Wow,” Liv remarks with a little too much admiration.
I pinch her ass. She shoots me a secret, apologetic smile.
“Wow is right,” Kelsey murmurs, gazing raptly at the screen.
As Archer gets closer to the camera, the lens zeroes in on his steely expression, his jaw set with determination and his muscles straining with effort as the funnel cloud bears down on him from behind.
Off camera, Kelsey swears. Another guy appears to yank open the back door of the armored car.
“No,” Kelsey snaps, getting out of the driver’s seat in a flash of anger. “We are not putting that mangy creature in this car. Put it in the damned truck.”
Archer climbs