Читать книгу Whirlwind - Rick Mofina - Страница 17

9

The bureau’s staff had doubled by the time Kate returned.

People she didn’t recognize were working side by side at every desk, including hers. Others were sitting on the floor, typing on phones, laptops, tablets, consulting notes, or talking to Dorothea.

One wall was papered with a massive map showing the paths of the tornadoes. Twenty had touched down in the Metroplex. They were confirmed for Arlington, Mesquite, Irving, Kennedale, Wildhorse Heights, Grand Prairie, Lancaster and several other locations. Each one was numbered on the map with notes on their length, width and ratings. The tracks they left looked like a huge claw had gouged the metro area.

Another wall showed dozens of photos, twisted cars in trees, destroyed homes, a roof on a highway, and there was Kate’s photo of Jenna Cooper, searching for her baby while holding his warped stroller and her daughter.

Every TV in the bureau was locked on live storm coverage. The coffee table from reception was brought in and buried with take-out pizza, salads, wings, chips and sodas.

Phones were ringing.

Roy Webster and Mandy Lee, who’d returned from Arlington and Irving, left a huddle at Dorothea’s desk and turned to Kate. Mandy’s eyes went to Kate’s hiking boots.

“Where did you get those?”

“I had them in my trunk.”

“Well, aren’t you prepared?”

“I saw what you filed from the flea market,” Roy said. “Not bad, Kate.”

Chuck, who’d been moving from desk to desk, guiding the bureau’s coverage, spotted Kate.

“Get yourself some food. It might be hard finding a place to work. We’ve brought in help from our other bureaus.” He stared over his bifocals. “You’ve got thirty minutes to give Dorothea and me whatever unused stuff you still have from today, then we’re meeting on next steps for coverage.”

Kate found a clear spot on the floor against a far wall. She passed on food. Her insides were still churning. She zoned out the activity as she wrote amid the room’s tension. When she finished, she glanced at the skyline, glittering in the early evening. She got a soda, kept an eye on the TVs and read Newslead’s wire stories online to get the full picture and the latest developments.

Today, several tornadoes had ripped through Texas, Alabama, Arkansas and Mississippi. So far the death toll was estimated at two hundred, with most in Texas around the Dallas area. Counting all the states that were hit, more than three thousand people were believed to be injured. Some six hundred were listed as missing, most around Dallas. At least twelve thousand homes, businesses and properties were destroyed. Power outages were widespread. Damage was pegged to surpass three billion dollars. All numbers were expected to climb in what was one of the worst storms on record.

The Dallas–Fort Worth Metroplex was hardest hit, particularly in Arlington, Lancaster, Wildhorse Heights, Irving and several other communities. The bureau’s phones continued ringing. In the worst areas roads were torn up, cell towers were down. People needed specific information but couldn’t get through to the Dallas Morning News, or the local TV and radio stations, so they called news bureaus in Dallas.

As reporters worked, Kate overheard snatches of conversations.

“My cousin in Irving lost his house.”

“You were in your bedroom when the entire wall disappeared?”

“But they found your dog, and he’s okay? That’s a miracle.”

Then someone shouted, “Here we go!” All eyes went to the TVs and live coverage of the President at a microphone in Ottawa, Canada, where he was at a global summit. He was making a live statement on the storm.

“We send our profound condolences to the loved ones of those who lost their lives today in the tornadoes and severe weather that struck the Dallas–Fort Worth area and communities in Alabama, Arkansas and Mississippi. We commend all the people who are helping their friends and neighbors during this terrible time. I have spoken with the governors of the affected states and have directed all available federal resources to respond. The nation stands ready to help our fellow Americans in this time of need. You are all in our thoughts and prayers.”

The networks then showed a moving montage of the devastation, giving pause to the bureau reporters who lived there. Most knew someone who’d been hit, underscoring to Kate that she was an outsider. In that moment she ached to be back in Canton, holding Grace.

But she had a job to do, with a lot riding on it.

“Okay, people, meeting time. Squeeze in here.” Chuck and Dorothea herded the staff into the bureau’s boardroom. Seats around the table filled and others stood against the wall.

“First, thanks, everyone, all of you from our other bureaus,” Chuck said. “Thanks for making the long drives from Oklahoma City, Houston, Austin and San Antonio. We appreciate the help.”

“And, if I may, Chuck,” Dorothea said, “I want to applaud our bureau, Moe, Harley, Tilda, Annalee, Tommy, Eduardo, Maria and Sue for outstanding work on the breaking coverage. So far, with updates, we filed more than one hundred stories, and two hundred photos. Some of our bureau people are still out in the field. One way or another, most us at the bureau are connected to the storm. I also want to thank our interns, Roy Webster and Mandy Lee, for their fine work.” Dorothea nodded to both of them just as a ringing cell phone interrupted her.

The reporter with the phone took the call while leaving the room.

The meeting resumed without mention of Kate.

She swallowed the slight of being overlooked.

Other people were facing worse, she thought, like the young mother she’d found searching for her missing baby.

Chuck flipped pages of his notebook as he gave an overview of coverage requirements for the next morning, ticking off search and rescue of the missing, updating the lists of the dead, injured and missing; relief and recovery. Coverage had to include the economic and psychological toll. He said the governor would be visiting the worst areas.

“Our Washington bureau confirms that the White House is arranging for the President to visit.”

Chuck noted that he had people on overnight shifts covering rescue efforts. Then he began assigning reporters from the other bureaus to specific tasks for the next day and then advised his people to return to the same areas early in the morning and continue covering the storm.

“Headquarters in New York is telling us what we already know. This is the top story in the country and a lead story around the world. Our copy is in demand. You’re all pros—you all know what to do,” he said. “Give us the facts and the human drama, the heartbreak and the heroes.”

The meeting broke up with people leaving, or wrapping up work, making calls, or talking with Dorothea or Chuck.

When Chuck was clear, Kate approached him.

“I think I’ve got a strong dramatic story coming out of the flea market. I’d like to follow it tomorrow.”

“What is it?”

Kate’s glance shifted to Dorothea, who’d overheard and joined them.

“A young mother, Jenna Cooper,” Kate said. “She’s searching for her five-month-old son, Caleb. She lost him when the tornado hit the Saddle Up Center. He vanished.”

“Right, she was in the copy you filed today,” Chuck said. “Sounds like a good one to follow. But first check with Dorothea on what she’ll need from you tomorrow.”

Chuck checked his phone for messages then left to talk to another reporter.

“Yes, that’s a sad one,” Dorothea said, “but there are a hundred others like it out there. I’ve got something else in mind for you tomorrow, Kate.”

“But I’d really like to follow up on Jenna Cooper. My gut tells me this story could be strong. A stranger was helping with the baby and the stranger’s missing, too. It’s very tragic and I think—”

Kate was now staring at Dorothea’s forefinger, held up to silence her.

“Roy and Mandy will go back out to cover the flea market. I need you here for an evening shift starting at three tomorrow afternoon. Please and thank you.” Dorothea’s cell phone rang. “Excuse me, I have to take this.” She turned away.

Kate stood there dumbfounded for several moments. Then she collected her things.

Before leaving, she glanced at the wall of photos, returning to the image of Jenna Cooper, holding her daughter and her baby’s contorted stroller, and gazing into the end of the world.