Immediately follows "Storm Chasing"

Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven characters belong to MGM, Trilogy and Mirisch, no copyright infringement intended, The song lyrics belong to Russell Watson and the Startrek Enterprise powers that be (the condensed version is the Theme to Enterprise)

It's been a long road, getting from there to here.
It's been a long time, but my time is finally here.
And I can feel the change in the wind right now. Nothing's in my way.
And they're not gonna hold me down no more, no they're not gonna hold me down.

"It's not right! We should be on the road, not sitting on our asses at this…this dump." JD waved his arms, emphasizing his words with sharp gestures.

"Calm down, JD." Buck grunted, taking a large bite of his submarine sandwich. "Chris made up his mind to stop here, nothing you can do about it." His words were barely distinguishable as he spoke around his food but JD got the message.

Deflated, Dunne sat down at the beat up picnic table, across from Wilmington and snagged the older man's potato chips. "Still don't know why he just gave up though," he muttered, ignoring Buck's motions to return the chips. He glanced toward the two rooms that Larabee had checked them into, each door propped open in attempt to cool them and sighed heavily. The rest of the decrepit looking building was dark and deserted.

"No one's giving up anything, Kid." Vin approached from the parking lot on their left, his arms loaded with computers and parts. "Weather's changing," he stated plainly then moved into the second room.

JD looked up at the night sky and watched the clouds for a few moments, recognizing the formations and realizing that Vin was right. It wouldn't do any good to keep driving if they ended up in the wrong place. "I just feel like us sitting here is letting Cox get the upper hand, you know?" He ran a hand through his unruly dark hair and popped a chip into his mouth.

"Don't go worrying about that SOB," Buck told him. "Just keep focused on what you're supposed to be doing." Wilmington pointed his index finger in Dunne's direction.

"I am focused," JD protested.

"Sure you are. Same way you were focused when I hauled your sorry butt out of that 'thing' you like to think was a car just before it got sucked up into an F3!" He laughed and wiped at his mustache.

"You aren't ever gonna let that go are you?"

Buck smirked as he wadded up the papers and napkins from his dinner and crushed them into a ball. "Nope."

JD turned away, intent on ignoring his friend and trying to hide his embarrassment over the incident. He knew Buck was just riling him but he still couldn't get past his own stupidity. It'd been the first time he'd ever chased a storm and admittedly, he hadn't had a clue what he was doing. At the time of course, he thought he'd be just fine. Since before he could remember, storms fascinated him and after two years of college, his mother's illness and subsequent funeral expenses…he found himself out of money and virtually homeless. He'd learned enough in school to read the right charts and follow the weather systems so he figured he'd follow the adventure, live day-to-day, town-to-town and just enjoy the ride.

He hadn't counted on the absolute power of nature. It mesmerized him…and scared the snot out of him. He'd frozen, in the damage path, sitting in his overloaded, stalled Chevette and trying frantically to remember what he was suppose to do next. One minute he'd been staring in terror at the black funnel cloud dancing toward him and the next he was being hauled out of the car by a mustached lunatic yelling obscenities at him. Buck had dragged him to a huge van and shoved him inside, climbing in beside him. Wilmington hadn't even gotten the door slid closed before Chris had taken off.

JD shook his head, remembering turning around and peering through the dusty back window just in time to see his car and all his earthly possessions disappear. If it hadn't been for Buck and Chris, he knew he'd of died in that first storm and if Chris hadn't been willing…reluctantly willing to let him team up with them, there was no telling where he'd be now.

Buck stood and tossed his garbage into a near by trashcan. JD was right about the place being a dump, he thought as his eyes scanned the dusty 'courtyard' in front of their rooms. He wasn't sure what distinguished the 'yard' from the parking lot other than the weasily manager's say-so, but they'd needed a cheap place to stay and this was it.

He watched Dunne's posture slump a little and wondered if he'd teased too much. He knew JD had learned a lot since hooking up with him and Chris. The kid was a natural and all of his computer expertise still amazed Buck, not that he'd ever admit it. Dunne had a way of looking at everything with a fresh perspective and brought a whole new dimension to the team. He was glad Chris had let the kid stay. If they'd come across him any earlier than that year, Buck knew Larabee would have been adamantly against JD sticking around and they had both needed him.

Buck sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling weary at the thought of those long two years on the road before JD and the others, when it seemed like every day was just a struggle to keep Chris alive. They'd come a long way in the last nine months though and now that Ezra appeared to be back, it felt like things were finally going right again. Shaking himself out of his revere, he walked up behind JD and grabbed the younger man's shoulder ignoring the startled reaction. "Let's double check the van's systems and get inside for the night," he suggested.

JD nodded. "Sure, I think Chris wants us ready to go first thing."

"Probably. Don't worry about Cox either," Buck said again as they walked. "No matter how many theories he steals from Ezra, the man doesn't have the brains to get them off paper. He ain't gonna hold us back none."

Vin leaned against the hotel room's doorframe, seeking fresh air and watching with a smile as Buck draped an arm over JD's shoulders and steered the shorter man toward the van.

"JD calmed down yet?" Josiah asked.

Vin turned around and shrugged. "Looks like it," he answered, sinking down onto the double bed closest to the door. Josiah lay sprawled out on the opposite bed watching the weather channel while Chris sat in a chair pushed up against a low dresser they'd converted into a desk for the computers.

"Probably still pissed at me for stopping here even when we saw Cox moving on," Chris commented without looking up from one laptop's screen.

"Nah." Vin shook his head. "Not really."

"It's a frustrating thing, waiting," Josiah murmured.

"True enough," Vin agreed, picking up a part from the Doppler that he'd abandoned on the bed earlier and beginning to work on it. He really didn't mind waiting, not as long as he had something to keep his hands busy, and this waiting, well it was different. Vin felt like he'd spent his entire life waiting and searching. In various foster homes, in school, in the army…always waiting until the day he hitched a ride to a truck stop in the middle of Kansas and found Chris, Buck and JD trying to breathe life into their broken down van.

Chris had stood there glaring at the thing like it would respond to his threats while Buck and JD looked like they were just trying to stay out of his way. Vin had casually walked over and drawled a soft "need a hand?" and had been Larabee's right hand man ever since.

Vin didn't know why it felt so right to be part of Larabee's team, he just knew he no longer felt like he was searching or waiting for something more. Maybe it was the friendship, or maybe it was the fact that for once he actually felt like part of family, whatever the reason, he'd found his place and he knew he was staying.

The sharp shrill of a cell phone sounded and all three men looked up and around, searching for the source.

"Must be Ezra or Nathan's," Josiah commented, waving a hand toward the open door near the bathroom that connected the two rooms, as the phone cut off in mid ring.

Chris met Vin's gaze, then Josiah's. "Maude," the three said in unison.

Groaning, Chris leaned back heavily in his chair. "Damn."

It's been a long night. Trying to find my way.
Been through the darkness. Now I finally have my day.
And I will see my dream come alive at last. I will touch the sky.
And they're not gonna hold me down no more, no they're not gonna change my mind.

Nathan let out a long suffering sigh and pushed Ezra back down onto the bed, aborting the other man's attempt to rise. "Will you sit still, please?"

Ezra shook his head and crossed his arms gingerly over his bare chest, the bruising on his side obvious. "I see no reason why I should be forced to endure a needless examination when you barely even glanced at either Mr. Larabee or Mr. Tanner," he protested emphatically.

"Well, neither Chris or Vin got knocked out of the truck by a tree. They don't have a minor concussion or bruised ribs so just sit there and let me make sure you're okay," Jackson ordered.

"It wasn't a tree," Ezra half pouted, "it was a branch."

"That damn branch was big enough; it could have cracked a shoulder blade." Nathan pointed out, beginning to rant and falling into the argumentative banter that he and Ezra were so good at. "You're lucky you aren't hurt worse. I still don't know how you managed not to break anything when you landed." He dabbed an alcohol drenched cotton ball at the cut on Ezra's forehead.

"Are you quite finished?" Ezra hissed and tried not to flinch away from the sting. "I really am fine, Nathan," he added seriously.

"That'll be the day." Nathan stepped back with a grin.

Ezra huffed indignantly but his expression betrayed his humor.

"I'm done," Nathan announced. "Just try to take it easy, please," he requested, knowing he was wasting his breath. Tomorrow Standish, Larabee and Tanner would be right back out there, wrestling with nature if it was of the mind to cooperate. A flash of panic went through him at the thought that one day, one of them was going to suffer an injury that he wouldn't know how to treat, or wouldn't have the supplies he needed to care for, or the time to get them real help.

Carefully he began to pack up his supplies, watching out of the corner of his eye as Ezra slowly eased into a shirt. "Should have made you go in for x-rays," he said more to himself than Ezra as he watched the stilted movements.

"I'm familiar with the experience of fractured ribs, Mr. Jackson, and I assure you, my ribs are intact."

Nathan frowned and opened his mouth to ask about Ezra's reference when Standish's cell phone started ringing. He continued to pack up his first aid supplies as Ezra answered. "Hello? Yes, Mother."

Immediately he caught the weariness in Ezra's voice and unconsciously moved slower about the room.

"Yes, I really did say that," Ezra admitted, nodding slowly, then jerked the phone away from his ear suddenly, rolling his eyes dramatically when Nathan looked at him in surprise. He could actually hear Maude's voice as she berated her son and he was a good four feet away. He laughed quietly at Standish's antics but didn't miss the sadness and disappointment that showed momentarily in the man's expression. He knew he was staring but he couldn't seem to turn away as he watched Ezra's face went blank, betraying absolutely no emotion at all while he continued to converse in low tones with his mother.

It marveled Nathan how easily Ezra seemed to be able to turn off his emotions, to appear like nothing ever bothered him or got under his skin. Jackson himself was first to admit that he often was fooled by the act and still at times needed reminding that it was just that…an act. He knew that he and Standish came from completely different worlds but still didn't comprehend Maude or the fact that she just could not see what was truly best for her son.

It'd been a long hard journey to adulthood for Nathan. His mother had committed suicide when he was barely into his teens and his father had just disappeared soon after, leaving Nathan and his siblings to be raised by an aunt. But even with the tragedy and lack of monetary wealth…Nathan always had someone he could depend on, to support him and to encourage him. He couldn't imagine how he would have survived without that, and wasn't quite sure he would have. Even on the darkest night, he hadn't felt alone and somehow he wondered if Ezra had ever felt anything but loneliness before meeting up with Chris.

"Damn it, Mother, Chris is not like Ward Cox," Ezra snapped out suddenly, echoing Chris' very words from earlier. "That was a misunderstanding." Standish was seething. "No I am not coming back. No. Fine, yes I understand. Fine then." He clicked the phone closed abruptly and hurled the device across the room, crying out in pain as he did. Nathan ducked quickly to avoid getting hit. The phone shattered on impact, denting the wall and leaving both men starring at the pieces scattered on the gray diamond patterned carpet as if the thing might come alive and put itself back together.

Ezra tried to control his breathing, his side burning from the sudden violent action and finally cleared his throat and met Nathan's concerned gaze a bit sheepishly. "My apologies," he said, his voice ragged. "I was not aiming at you," he explained, praying that Jackson wasn't thinking he'd just tried to kill him with a cell phone.

"I know, you okay?" Nathan gestured toward his ribs.

Nodding, Ezra managed a soft "fine."

Jackson smiled. "Maude have much to say?" he asked innocently.

Ezra looked at his friend incredulously before finally smiling. "I'm sure you heard."

"Not really, just the volume."

"Yes, Mother wasn't exactly pleased with my decision to rejoin you gentlemen," Ezra explained, shrugging cautiously to check his range of movement and thankful when Nathan didn't pursue the matter further.

Instead, Jackson knelt and began to pick up phone fragments. "I'm don't think even Vin can repair this."

"It's unlikely," Ezra admitted, joining him. "It's alright though…that was mother's phone anyway." He smiled wickedly when Nathan burst out laughing. He didn't mention that Maude had already made it clear that if he didn't return immediately she'd cut off his phone…and credit cards…and rent out his apartment. He sighed inwardly at his mother's tactics and tossed the handful of useless plastic he'd recovered from the carpet into the garbage can Jackson had grabbed.

The phone and credit cards didn't matter to him, he had his own after all and the apartment, well that would have been nice to fall back on but he would figure out something when the time came. He'd be on the road most of the time now anyway.

Ezra thought for a moment but he was fairly positive that his mother was unaware of his second bank account, so at lest he wasn't suddenly penniless. He was in no way wealthy either but he had enough, for now, to survive at least. He'd learned his lesson the first time around and he wasn't about to let Maude try to rule him with money. As for her intimidation and manipulation, he just reminded himself that this was where he belonged, and it was about time he stopped letting his mother keep him away.

"What'd you kill?"

Ezra and Nathan looked up to see Buck standing there with the Toto.

"Maude's phone," Nathan explained, helping Ezra to his feet.

"Not thrilled with you rejoining this circus I take it?" Wilmington laughed and handed Ezra the machine. "Figured you'd want to check her over before we head out again."

"Thank you, Mr. Wilmington." Ezra nodded and moved to the dresser, no longer aware of Nathan or Buck's presence. It was still hard to believe that he was so close to seeing his dream become a reality. When Cox had stolen and falsely published his original theories about the possibility of a supplement to the Dorothy and then publicly discredited him with rumors and innuendos…he'd thought his dream of getting back out into the field was over. Then he'd met Larabee, who hadn't seemed to believe any of Cox's stories about him. Chris had trusted him and convinced him to join the team. They'd worked together for almost six months, hammering out figures and dimensions for the Toto, all the while with Maude continually pressuring him to give up "that crazy storm-chasing nonsense" and take a CEO position in the company her latest "x" had been forced to give her in settlement. It hadn't taken any real effort to refuse her in the beginning, he'd been so grateful for the opportunity to work with Larabee's team and he liked what he was doing…and then Chris had received the photos, photos that clearly showed Ezra passing information to Cox for cash.

Ezra could still remember the stony expressions that greeted him when he and Josiah had entered Chris' office that day. Everyone else was already there and Chris had simply tossed the glossies at him with a growling, "old habits die hard, Standish?"

He hadn't known what to say. The evidence was staring straight at him and yet he knew it was wrong, but with his history and Cox's earlier lies about his credibility all he could hear were Maude's words. "No one is ever going to trust you Ezra, darling. So you might as well do something where that is an asset. Heaven knows, that bunch of Neanderthals you've hooked up with aren't going to be there for you when things get rough. I've taught you better than that dear."

He'd seen the angry questions in the others expressions and he had had no answers, so he'd handed the photos to a rather confused Josiah, and walked out. Chris had called the next day…and the next, for two weeks, trying to explain that Josiah had examined the photos and they knew they were fake. They were sorry they had jumped to conclusions, would he please come back? But Ezra hadn't felt like he could go back, not then. His confidence was shaken and he just couldn't find the strength to take that risk again.

Maude had dragged him into the business and he'd managed to plod through each day, pushing beyond the ever darkening depression and loneliness that followed him everywhere and ignoring any real contact with Larabee's team…until today.

Ezra smiled as he finished the last check on Toto, realizing that suddenly he felt alive again and despite Maude's threats and Cox's ever present competition…he could dream again and better yet, he could believe in his dreams again.

"Hey Ez, pizza's here!" JD shouted from the next room.

"Be right there," he answered back, shutting down the Toto so he could join the others.

I've seen a wind so cold. I've seen the darkest days.
But now the winds I feel, are only winds of change.
I've been through the fire and I've been through the rain.
But I'll be fine…

He pressed his foot harder onto the gas, forcing the pedal into the floor with all his might. Buck's voice was distorted even though his best friend sat right beside him. "It'll be okay, it has to be. They're fine, Chris. They're fine." Over and over Wilmington's words assaulted him as he raced to get home.

The road swerved and suddenly the scene changed. He was standing in the rain, the wind whipping wildly at him as he stared blankly at the devastation around him. The neighborhood was gone, his house a mere pile of sticks and glass. The flashing of an ambulance's lights cut across the scene like a blade. He could hear Buck's voice again, a denial laced, "No. God no," but he couldn't look at his friend, instead he slowly turned, knowing what he'd see. It was always the same. Two stretchers were being loaded into an ambulance, white sheets shrouding both bodies completely.

He was sinking. His knees hit mud and his world went black and silent.

Chris jolted awake with a choking gasp and immediately scanned the room to see if he had disturbed anyone else with his sudden movements. He sighed with relief to find everyone still sleeping, thankful too that he'd grabbed one of the beds to himself earlier.

He dropped back onto his pillows but knew that sleep would be awhile coming so he flipped back his tangled covers and grabbed his jeans from the floor. The weather channel was still on; though the television was now muted, providing plenty of light for him to see by. Quietly he moved past the bed where Vin and Ezra slept, unable to suppress a small smile. Vin had tossed all the covers off while Ezra could barely be seen he was burrowed so deep.

Easing the door open, Chris held his breathe when the thing creaked and slipped out.

The rush of cool air against his sweaty chest made him shiver as he walked to the closest picnic table. He settled on the table itself, his bare feet on the bench and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He hated the dream, the nightmare… the god damned fucking memory. He rubbed his face roughly and leaned back, trying to see the sky. The one streetlight at the end of the parking lot managed to blot out the view. He sighed heavily and leaned forward again, still trying to shake off the effects of the nightmare. At least this time he hadn't screamed. He had that night though, a guttural…primal growl of pain that had ripped up from the depths of him. His world had shattered.

He never even considered going on without Sarah and Adam, and he wouldn't have if Buck hadn't been there to literally pull him up out of the mud, and out of the bar each night and out of bed each day there after. Buck. The man had been by his side the whole way, through the first six months of drunken madness to the year and a half that followed of suicidal storm chasing, Buck had stayed.

Ezra had been right yesterday, Chris thought as he hopped down off the table. He still did chase storms as if there was some way he could actually seek revenge on nature for taking his wife and son away. Walking carefully across the lot, he scanned the ground and found a small stone. Swiftly, he took aim and threw the projectile, smiling when it shattered the light and plunged the area into complete darkness. He made his way easily back to the picnic table and leaned black again, this time able to see the cloudy sky without interference.

Chris thought about those early storms…the chances he'd taken and the fact that he never cared what happened to him-- he should have. Should have cared at least enough to realize he was dragging Buck into danger with him. But he was always telling Buck he didn't have to stay, trying to goad him into leaving so that he could just self-destruct in peace. Buck had never taken the bait, he'd just held on and put up with all the crap Chris had dished out. It'd taken almost two years but eventually the pain eased enough that Chris knew he could start living again, and then they'd found JD.

Next thing he knew, Vin had found them and, realizing they had a half way decent team started, Chris and Buck recruited Nathan, Josiah and finally Ezra. It'd taken a bit of persuading to hook Ezra, especially since Cox had just tried to destroy the man's career, but he'd eventually come on board and ended up being essential in finding private backing for the team. Chris had no doubt that without Ezra they'd never have gotten the funding they needed to upgrade the mobile lab and the base lab or buy their 'new' trucks. He turned his head, glancing briefly at the battered vehicles that Tanner somehow, miraculously, kept running. Ezra's reaction to their purchase had been priceless in itself, the southerner protesting adamantly "surely we can afford something from this decade."

Truth was, though, they couldn't. It took careful budgeting of their funding just to keep them going out in the field each day, and even now, the grant for Toto was quickly running out. If they didn't get the contraption up in a funnel soon…Chris let the thought fade unfinished. The sky looked right and he could feel the wind picking up. He had no doubt they'd succeed with time. They'd been ready for well over a month now, really. He just hadn't been able to bring himself to attempt the mission without Ezra.

Larabee closed his eyes and leaned forward burying his fingers in his hair. If only he'd reacted differently to those damn photos. He knew better, or should have. In competition with Ward Cox for years, he knew how the man worked. He'd known immediately that Cox was lying when the man took credit for Standish's theories and then accused Ezra of stealing from him. He should have known that the photos weren't real; the things arrived the same week that the team had gotten grant approval for Pete's sake. But all he could do was see the pictures and hear Cox's insinuations that Standish had sold out once before. He'd been so angry he'd wanted to hurt Ezra and he had…with words.

Chris swallowed hard, remembering the briefest flash of confusion and then hurt cross Ezra's features before the Southerner had just turned and walked away. Josiah had taken one look at the pictures and charged Chris. It'd taken all four of the others to pull the former preacher off of him and by the time they'd quit yelling at each other and he'd calmed down enough to listen as Josiah pointed out the obvious signs that the photos were doctored…Ezra was gone.

"Trouble sleeping, Cowboy?"

Chris jumped, startled by Vin's sudden presence.

"How the hell do you do that?" Chris hissed with a dry laugh.

"Natural talent." Vin grinned, climbing onto the table beside him. "What're you doing? Sitting out here beating yourself up over all the things you can't change?"

Eyes wide, Chris looked at Vin with surprise. "How the HELL do you do THAT?" he asked again.

Tanner shrugged. "I know you." After a moment of silence he went on. "He's back. Let it go."

"He never would have left if I hadn't jumped to conclusions."

"We jumped, Chris."

Chris looked away from the intense blue eyes of his friend and scanned the deserted highway and field beyond without really seeing anything. "Why didn't he defend himself? Protest? Explain?" he asked at last.

"He expected it."

"What?" Chris turned sharply. "What do you mean?"

Vin sighed and ran his hands through his hair, scratching his scalp and making his hair stick up all over. "For six months he had Maude telling him that none of us really trusted him. Hell, she's probably still telling him that. He was just waiting for her to be right."

"Damn," Chris growled, wishing again that he could go back in time. So many thing he would change, the situation with Ezra…how he'd treated Buck for years…the night he didn't make it home in time to save his family…so many things.

"What's done is done," Vin whispered, quietly reading his mind again.

A warm gust of wind stirred up the dust around them and Vin squinted up at the sky. "Changing again."

Chris followed his gaze and smiled knowingly. "Front's shifting. We should be right on course if it continues to build all night."

"Better get some sleep then. Hell knows you're a bad enough driver when you get eight full hours." Vin slid off the table and turned toward the hotel.

"Hey," Chris tried to protest but Tanner just grinned mischievously and kept walking.

Larabee shook his head and checked the sky again. Thing were definitely changing.

'Cause I've got faith of the heart.
I'm going where my heart will take me.
I've got faith to believe. I can do anything.
I've got strength of the soul. And no one's gonna bend or break me.
I can reach any star. I've got faith, faith of the heart.

Josiah adjusted the focus, framing the twister exactly where he wanted it and snapped the picture.

"Take a left at the crossroad," Nathan ordered Chris, putting the map aside. "That's as close as I can get you on a road at least."

"Wouldn't recommend that field," Buck added as he scrambled up onto the hood of the navigation truck and peered through a set of binoculars.

"I hear you." Chris ' voice cut through the light static. "Last time we did that we almost lost the truck."

Josiah grinned remembering the close call and grabbed the video camera.

"Caps are spiking at 40,000," JD reported from inside the van. "Sheer's at 90 knots, 50 outbound, 40 in."

"We got it" Sanchez could hear Ezra tapping on the laptop. Climbing up beside, Buck, he watched as the truck bounced across a small intersection and onto a narrower access road.

"Any signs of instability, JD?" Chris asked.

"None. Funnel is thickening. It's about a half mile now," Dunne answered.

"Not very wide," Buck muttered.

"Big enough," Vin said.

"Moving to intercept," Chris told them.

Buck scrambled off the truck's hood and ducked into the van.

A powerful gust of wind tore at Josiah and he adjusted his stance to avoid losing his footing.

"Touchdown!" Buck shouted. "Get your asses moving!"

Sanchez watched intently, keeping his sights on the truck as it skidded to a halt. The three men jumped out heedless to the elements beating at them and climbed into the back.

"Get that buckle."

"Systems are good."

"Shift to your right. I can't reach."

Smiling behind the camera, Josiah enjoyed the sounds of the team working together. 'It's about time,' he thought, holding his breath as Chris, Vin and Ezra slid Dorothy off of the truck. They'd been incomplete for too long. Ezra may not have known his true value to the team, but everyone else was well aware of it. Without Standish, things just hadn't meshed, and Josiah was certain that taking any one of them out of the equation would yield the same stilted results. They had all, individually, won hard fought battles to simply survive what life had thrown at them and yet it hadn't been until they'd come together that they'd actually started to thrive.

He remembered the day Chris had walked into his tiny studio and flat out told him that he couldn't pay him squat but he needed him. All the reasons for not joining the group rolled through his mind, fighting with the gentler tug he felt inside to just follow his heart for once. It'd been a long time since he'd let anyone close to him, since leaving the church. He hadn't had much faith in his fellowman after that debacle, the only true friend he had then was Nathan and even Jackson had been willing to take the chance with Chris.

"Give them a chance, Josiah," Nathan had argued. "You're always telling me I need to have faith, maybe it's about time you tried that yourself." He had yet to find a good argument for that reasoning.

"Faster!" Buck urged, now on top of the van, watching as the trio struggled against the wind to push Dorothy into place.

"That's good there," Nathan added, bouncing the truck as he climbed onto the bumper for a better view. The rain began then, pounding at them. Josiah felt Nathan's hands on him, steadying him on the slippery surface of the truck. He kept the camera on Dorothy as Chris, Vin and Ezra hustled back to the truck, suppressing his need to check on his friends, his family.

"Debris!" Vin shouted.

"Just a small tree," Ezra reassured, his voice tight.

"It's picking up speed," JD warned.

The funnel cloud moved in on Dorothy. "She's gonna take it!" Josiah could hear the excitement in Ezra's voice as the machine danced in front of the storm…and then it was gone.

"YES!" JD's voice blasted over the headsets.



"Sorry. Sorry," Dunne apologized just as loudly.

"What do you got?" Chris questioned.

"I got Dorothy's readings coming in and I got Toto! It's scrolling so freaking fast but it's definitely info from Toto!" JD sounded like he was jumping around inside the lab.

"Take that Ward Cox!" Buck whooped. "Poor bastard's probably on the other side of the state right now and driving like crazy to get here!"

Laughing, Josiah followed the storm, Chris and Ezra firing questions now, one after another almost drowning each other out while Buck and JD both scrambled to answer.

"Keep Driving, Chris!" Nathan warned, "You're still in the path. Get moving!"

Panning out so he could track both the tornado and truck, Josiah had no doubts. "They'll make it."

Nathan looked at him, water pelting his upturned face. "How do you know that?"

Josiah grinned. In joining Larabee's team, they'd each found something they'd been looking for; something to believe in…they had found strength in each other and in the bond that had grown between them. They were 'sure of what they hoped for and certain of what they did not see,' he paraphrased inwardly.

"How do you know?" Nathan asked again.

Sanchez steadied the camera, not looking at his friend to answer. "Faith."

"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." Hebrews 11: 1 (New International Version)