Frankenstorm: Category 8 Read Online Free PDF

turd. She was grateful that cookies were baking. The delicious aroma probably covered other smells.
    “I got hot coffee, if you want,” Rosie said. “And we got lotsa booze.”
    “Coffee would be nice.” Latrice wanted to see if Rosie could find a clean cup.
    Rosie opened one of the cupboards. It was empty except for three lonely coffee mugs. “You want cream? Sugar? Or just black?” She took in a sharp breath and turned to Latrice with big eyes. “Um . . . no offense.”
    Latrice surprised herself by laughing. “No offense taken.”
    “Oh, good.” She poured coffee into the mug. “I just never know what’s supposed to be offensive anymore.” Rosie was so jittery that she spilled some of the coffee as she handed the mug to her. “You’re lucky to be here tonight, you wanna know the truth. The storm’s knockin’ the power out all over the place, but Giff’s got a great big generator. We got all the power we need. Where you from?”
    “Sacramento. I was planning to drive back tonight, but—”
    “Oh, no, you don’t wanna do that. The hurricane’s coming tonight. They screwed up. Or the hurricane got faster. Something. You might get stuck here for the night.”
    Latrice could not conceal her chagrin.
    “Oh, that’s okay, we got room. It don’t look like it from the front, but this is a big-ass house. Giff’s dad, Hank, had it built a long time ago. Hank’s gone now, though. I mean, he’s not dead. Well . . . not that anybody knows for sure. See, Giff’s dad is kind of, you know, mentally unhinged because he’s been doing drugs for so long, and years ago, he went off and decided to be a homeless bum. Lives in the woods, eats at homeless shelters. Only now , nobody knows where he is, ’cause he’s disappeared, like a bunch of other homeless people. Giff thinks they’re being experimented on in the old mental hospital, but only because he listens to a crazy fuckin’ show on the Internet.”
    Rosie seemed to be a sweet girl under all those meth symptoms, but she had a harsh voice and Latrice found herself unable to keep up with her chatter. She sipped her coffee and turned down the volume on Rosie’s voice.
    She couldn’t be stuck here for the night. But she knew Giff might never get in touch with Leland. Latrice had the sinking feeling she would be going home empty-handed.
    “—want some of these cookies, Latrice?”
    She was startled out of her thoughts. “I’m sorry, what?”
    “Cookies are almost done. Want some?”
    They smelled delicious and Latrice was hungry, but she’d decided she could not stay. If she got out of there right away, maybe she could beat the hurricane. She couldn’t take Highway 101, though, because it ran along the coast. There was another route that would take her to Redding and she could catch Interstate 5 from there, but she didn’t know what that route was. She’d have to Google it. But she could do that in the car.
    Before she could respond to Rosie, an explosive crash made the entire house rattle.
    Latrice and Rosie stared at each other a moment, paralyzed by the shock. Rosie shouted, “What the fuck ?” and ran out of the kitchen.
    As Latrice followed, she heard excited voices ahead.
    Giff shouted, “Sounded like somebody drove into the goddamned house!”
    When Latrice got to the living room, it was empty. Rosie was looking out the front door, struggling to hold on to it as powerful wind pounded into the house. She leaned out of the door for a moment, then came inside and shoved it closed against the wind.
    “God damn , somebody drove a Jeep into the corner of the house!” she said.
    Two gunshots cracked outside, then someone shouted, and the shouting got louder until the door flew open and Giff stumbled in.
    “Jesus fucking Christ,” he was shouting, “he shot me! Dad fucking shot me!” He had not put on a coat and his clothes were soaked. His left arm dangled uselessly at his side as he grabbed the door with his right hand and tried to close