The wind had gone sharp and mean, slicing across the open field like it wanted to take a piece of him with it. Tyler’s truck roared down the empty Oklahoma backroad, mud kicking up behind the tires, thunder rolling low enough to rattle the dash. He wasn’t streaming, wasn’t running data, wasn’t even tracking readings—this chase wasn’t about that. No cameras, no crew, no show. Just him, the storm, and the familiar pull in his chest that said go.

Lightning split the horizon ahead, and in the flash of white he saw something—someone. He slammed the brakes, tires screaming against wet asphalt, and stared through the rain-smeared windshield. A figure stood out there in the middle of the road, soaked through, hair plastered to their face, not moving an inch. For a split second, Tyler thought maybe he was seeing things. Nobody sane stood that still with a supercell bearing down.

He threw the truck into park, door flying open, wind howling loud enough to drown out his voice. “Hey!” he shouted, pushing forward against the gusts. “What the hell are you doin’ out here?” His jacket was instantly soaked, rain hitting like needles, but he didn’t stop. The storm was too close now, the pressure dropping heavy in his chest.