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the bend in the highway, the river ran perpendicular to the road for about a mile just before it cut across and under the Mary Draper Ingles Bridge which was connected to Interstate Sixty-four.

We were trapped.

We couldn’t go forward to the bridge because the funnel would follow that course, running back would head us into it.

The water funnel would follow the river until it broke, either on its own or landfall.

The RV was positioned right at the foot of the bridge where the east and west lanes divided.

The funnel howled louder the closer it came. The dark low cloud carried it like a puppet through the trees. In its own way it was an attacking beast, and we were in the path.

On our side of the highway, just over the guardrail was a steep tree filled hillside.

I know Lane was thinking the same as me as we raced that way.

Running as fast as we could up the hill and into the woods.

The elements had a different plan for us.

The funnel blasted a fierce wind the closer it drew, kicking us off balance on the already slick landscape. I could barely get a footing once we were off the road.

Not even a hundred feet from the guardrail, barely up the grade, the incoming devastation roared, knocking us both to the ground.

“Stay low. Chest to the earth!” I screamed to Lane. “It’s our only chance!”

I dropped to the ground and immediately felt a sense of relief when I sank into the mud. I wanted to protect my head, but I was fearful of breathing in the liquified dirt.

As fast as I could, chest sinking in the mud, I put one hand on my head, while the other propped under my cheek and I turned my head to keep my nose clear.

I expected Lane to do the same, to lay next to me. Instead, he covered me with his body, pushing me deeper into the mud.

The ground shook and rumbled, vibrating beneath my chest. Before I closed my eyes feeling it nearly upon us, I looked and saw Lane’s hand by my head, gripping the mud, fingers dug in.

“I love you, Jana, hold on,” he said. His voice so close to my ear.

It was coming any second.

The shaking ground, howling wind. I knew it was there, right behind us, passing us. There was no denying it by the noise level.

Louder, louder … deafening … fading …

Everything decreased just as fast as it started, the noise, the shaking and the wind.

We were safe, I thought. We made it.

Boom!

The earth rocked, it sounded like an explosion. Like everything around us just erupted.

I closed my eyes as tight as I could, hearing the thuds as objects landed around us. Fast and furiously, ‘thud-thud-thud-thud-thud’, right before it happened.

The water funnel burst.

The eruption was unmistakable.  Like a water balloon bursting, only instead of a pop it was a boom.

The crash of the water hit the ground and the rumble of it rolling our way filled me with a sense of doom and fear, and there was absolutely no time to brace.

I don’t know why I thought to hold my breath, but I did.

Within a split second it was upon us.

At first the water dropped down and then it slammed hard, encompassing us.

The momentum was overwhelming.

My muddy indentation, my safety spot filled with water. It uprooted me and took me with the current. It was fast and furious. I heard the muffled sound encompass me. Swept away, my body floated out of control and my hands reached and clawed in desperation.

Something.

My fingers grabbed something. It felt like a branch, I wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, didn’t move or budge. I grabbed it with two fingers then my entire hand. Once I realize the water was moving and I wasn’t, I swung up my other arm and grasped it as well.

I held on so tight, the edges of whatever I grabbed cut into my hands.

Sixty seconds.

From start to finish it couldn’t have been more than sixty seconds.

The momentum of the wave slowed down and I no longer felt the pull trying to get me and drag me along.

I held on to whatever it was, my eyes closed until it stopped.

And it did.

The sound of the water rushing was still loud, but it faded as it moved further from me.

Not knowing how far I traveled or where I was, still holding on, I opened my eyes.

Both my hands clutched tightly to the silver object. It was the leg of a road sign. It had bent but never fully lifted from the ground. The rectangular green sign attached to it had bent up and folded upward, catching me in the newly formed ‘L’ shape.

That sign saved my life, saved me from flowing forcefully with the water.

Finally feeling it was over, I looked around. I was glad I didn’t let go because I was a couple feet from the ground cusped in the folded sign as if it were a chair.

I slid down, letting go and planting my feet firmly on the ground.

I wasn’t injured. Instead of being carried by a wave of water, I felt as if I had just gotten off of some extreme amusement park ride, my legs wobbly, body quivering like a bowl of jello.

In a snap of a finger, everything had stopped.

The wind, the rain. Even the ice that formed was gone, the water washed it away that fast.

Turning around to face the highway behind me, I could see the water moving and drifting to pour back over the side of the road toward the river.

Trees uprooted, lay about the road.

Yes, I was safe. But at that moment, amongst all that devastation my survival didn't matter.

Where was Lane? Where was my husband?

I wasn’t overwrought with panic, not yet. Not until I turned to see the RV and it wasn’t there. A few steps forward and I realized … neither was the bridge.

The divided highway bridge was crushed, and the lanes extended out broken and busted, the metal

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