to his side. “You’re bleeding.”
“It was a large board—perhaps a sign or a post.” It was clear Cyrus was in shock.
“Let’s move down the interior hallway, well away from the front entry. There are no windows down there,” Seth suggested as the sound of debris hitting the building threatened more trouble.
John guided Cyrus, and Seth followed. There was little else they could do but seek protection and wait out the storm. Others who rented office space in the building soon joined them. Everyone wore the same look of confusion and surprise.
No one anticipated the storm lasting for four hours. It wasn’t until around two o’clock in the afternoon that the wind died down and the rain stopped. Seth had thought of nothing but Nancy the entire time, and now that there was at least a break in the storm, he intended to get home to his wife.
“I’m leaving,” he told John.
“Be careful. Things are certain to be a mess out there. Flooding and debris can create traps.”
Cyrus was more himself after John and Seth had seen to his cuts, but the younger man was still quite shaken. He said nothing as he huddled in the corner.
“Can you make it home on your own, Cyrus, or should I assist you?” Seth asked.
“I’ll be fine.” Cyrus shook his head. “I’ve never seen such a storm in all my life.”
“No one has, son.” John Lincoln touched his shoulder. “Come, we’ll head out together.”
Some of the other office workers led the way, and the trio followed, not exactly hesitant, but guarded at the thought of what they might find.
They stepped from the building and gazed at the destruction around them. Seth thought it looked as if a giant had stepped on many of the buildings. Windows were broken and roofs ripped off. Telephone and telegraph poles had been torn from the ground and plunged into the sides of some buildings, while others lay wrapped in their wires and twisted together with other debris.
“Gracious,” one of the other men said. “We had tornadoes in Kansas, but nothing like this. Nothing that lasted for hours on end.”
“I have no idea what the authorities will ask of us,” John said in disbelief. “Perhaps I should box up all the records and take them home. However, with the streets full of debris, I wouldn’t be able to get the carriage here for transport.”
“Why don’t you put the more important papers in the safe, and we can figure out the rest later? Look, the police are already out in force. They’ll no doubt keep looting to a minimum.” At least Seth hoped they would. Right now, however, there was probably more concern about injuries. That again reminded him of Nancy and the ladies at the boardinghouse. “I need to get home.”
He took off at a jog, doing his best to avoid the worst of the wreckage, but as he reached the more residential neighborhoods, he had to slow his pace considerably due to fallen trees strewn across the roads and yards. It was clear that the weeks of rain prior to the storm had weakened the ground. The trees had been pulled out as if they were rooted in sand.
People were starting to emerge from the houses. Many of the women were crying, and the men were doing their best to offer comfort. No one could figure out what had happened or what they were supposed to do now.
The sky overhead was still ominous, and from time to time the wind whipped with an ugly reminder of its power. Seth feared this was nothing more than a lull in the storm. He quickened his pace but found it impossible to hurry. There was just too much to overcome. Fallen trees were a considerable obstacle, especially the evergreens. Their branches were full, and it required great skill to pick a path through them. Seth found himself exhausted by the time he reached his own neighborhood.
When he turned onto his own street, a gasp escaped him. Trees were everywhere, and most of the houses were damaged either by those same trees or the wind’s relentless power. One beautiful Queen Anne house he’d often admired had been cut in half by a huge fir.
Seth picked his way through the branches of fallen trees, some of which didn’t even belong in his yard, to make his way to the front porch of the boardinghouse. A large white oak from the neighbor’s yard now stretched across the end of the porch. His breathing quickened