Creatures of the Storm Read Online Free PDF

sick, Daddy.”
    He set his jaw. “Okay,” he said. “Fine.” He
was not going to get into it.
    “And I don’t want to go to
the mall ,” Rose
said.
    “So you don’t plan on changing your clothes
for the next couple of days? Why the hell not?”
    “You have a washing machine, don’t you? Shit,
you’ve probably got a live-in maid. So get Consuelo or whomever to
do my dainties and I’ll be fine.”
    “Her name is Lupe, she’s a housekeeper who
comes once a week and she doesn’t do laundry.” His jaw ached from
being clenched so tightly.
    “Fine! Fucking fine! But don’t make it such a fucking big deal, will
you? I only need one other pair of fucking blue jeans and a fucking T-shirt
that I can wear when I’m washing this pair of fucking blue jeans.
It’s not like we’re going anywhere or anything.”
    “Well, shit, Rosie , I thought this
was the fucking perfect time to buy you a fucking prom dress.”
    “Oh, that’s funny, Daddy.
That is so fucking– LOOK OUT!”
    Ken jerked to stop at the intersection.
He had already seen the man in the black pea coat crossing the
street against the light, but her screech made him slam on the
brakes anyway.
    The man didn’t even look up. He clamped a
hand onto his shapeless black hat, hunched deeper into the rising
wind, and made for the far curb.
    Ken stayed motionless in the intersection
long after he was gone.
    “You know,” he said,
“Driving in this shit would be a whole lot easier if you weren’t
alternating between insulting me and screaming in my fucking ear.”
    “You were going to hit him!”
    “I was not !”
    “How was I supposed to know
that? I’m not the
one who’s driving!”
    “Right! You aren’t! So
leave it to me and stop screaming in my
fucking ear!!”
    Rose stared out the window. Ken didn’t
continue the conversation, either. He let it go, distantly
surprised at how shrill and unsteady his own voice sounded, and how
white his knuckles were against the black webbing of the steering
wheel.
    This is going to be a very
long weekend, he told himself. Very fucking long.
     
* * *
     
    The trip to the Dos Hermanos Emporium, the
one and only shopping mall in town, was short and unpleasant, and
the storm grew steadily worse. They parked near the entrance and
dashed inside. Rose wouldn’t even let Ken go into the department
store to shop; he was forced to wander on the outskirts, staring
into the windows of the random, gaudy shops until she reappeared
with a flat plastic bag filled with a very few items of clothing.
She looked red-faced and upset.
    “Are you okay?” he said.
    “Don’t ask,” she snapped. “Let’s just
go.”
    They went. Less than half an hour after they
emerged from the hospital’s underground parking, they were crawling
across town towards the business district and a decent meal.
    Ken tapped on the Range Rover’s brakes at an
intersection that should have been buzzing with activity, as buzzy
as any intersection in DH ever got. But it was strangely deserted,
even though the car’s clock read 4:28.
    Rose didn’t speak. She hadn’t said ten words
since they’d left the Emporium.
    Ken took a deep breath and watched a trash
can roll across the intersection, pushed by the wind-driven rain. A
moment later a wave of economy-sized plastic bags, each a foot
square, swarmed past them like a flock of transparent bats,
whipping and twisting through the storm.
    Somebody lost a year’s
supply of ZipLocs, he told himself, while I’m sitting here losing my
mind .
    He cleared his throat. “Sorry about yelling
before,” he said quietly, barely audible above the chatter of the
rain on the metal roof. “Guess I’m still a little stressed
out.”
    She didn’t say anything at first. Then: “Me,
too.”
    “Okay. So. Let’s—”
    “Let’s eat, okay? Nothing else. I … I can’t
…” Her voice started to crumble.
    “I got it. Off we go.” Ken pointed the Rover
towards the downtown district and did battle with the