White Out: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller Read Online Free PDF

course he didn't. That was where he would lose her forever, once she was near Christian’s sphere of influence again, trying to make everything better the way Christian always did. If this was indeed the end of the world (as many of the pundits were preaching before the cable lines went out), then this was Tony’s last opportunity to secure Annie as his end-of-the-world plaything. Annie wished that she was just being paranoid, like a petite teenage girl walking alone in an unlit parking lot, but she knew that there was something seedy about Tony’s intentions. There always had been; it was all spoken through his sharking eyes, caressing every inch of her body whenever he felt the urge, standing over the top of her cubicle ( look how tall I am! ), smiling and asking her how her weekend was ( I went bungee jumping! ), slurping on a cup of cold coffee out of his kitschy “Hang In There” mug ( I can slurp on your desperate little kitty, too! ).
    Tony cleared his throat, seemingly frazzled by her silence. Something inside of her loved to watch him squirm a bit, to make him suffer for his unwelcome approaches. "Listen to me, Annie.” Yes, she thought as she raised her eyebrows, she was listening. “I'm one hundred percent confident of this. I've skied in much worse conditions than this. I got stuck in a blizzard on Sugarloaf one year. I almost died out there, but I kept my head on straight.” His face contorted, as if he was trying to convince himself that it was all true.
    Of course , it was a blatant lie, and wasn't he always one hundred percent confident in their dealings? Annie could recall dozens of occasions where he'd profess a similar cocksure declaration, where he convinced the higher-ups to pursue something fruitless and wasteful. He had an audience with some of the key players in the business, and they trusted him in all the wrong ways. He pissed away several major accounts by his boldly naïve initiatives, and he paid no repercussions for his botching measures. Men rarely paid for mistakes in the business world, or so Annie had noticed pretty early on, whereas, women would be thrown under the bus for even minor transgressions.
    The overhead lights flickered on and off. The electricity was still hanging on, but just by a thread. It would give out any day now. When the electric went, they were better off hitting the road. Annie realized that and stared down at the cart. Her options were slowly evaporating.
    He reached across the oddball sled, touching Annie's cheek with his index finger. Though he had a leather glove on, she could still feel his warmth through the material. In fact, his entire body seemed to emanate consistent warmth, and for a moment, Annie wanted to nestle inside of that warmth, but the image of Paulie and Christian kept dancing on the back of her consciousness. How did Tony manage to stay so contently warm? She concluded that he kept himself warm with his unsteady optimism; mind over matter, Tony was just that kind of prick.
    "Trust me, babe."
    She pulled away from his hand, securing the zipper on her parka. " Don't call me that ."
    "You didn't mind a few nights ago, did you?"
    It hadn’t happened. She was sure of it.
    It was only in her imagination , that moment of weakness and terror. How had he reached into her mind like that? Was he some sort of goddamned psychic? It hadn’t happened. It hadn’t happened. Not in this world. Not ever. She whispered, barely audible to the asshole across from her, pinching her eyes shut as not to look at him directly, "It was a lapse in my usually good judgment. Rest assured, it won't happen again, whether we get out of this mess or not. Please forget it ever happened. I beg of you." She regretted using the word “beg.” Tony was the kind of guy who took cues from misused verbiage.
    He flipped one of the ski poles over in his hands, studying it as he spoke. "Hell of a way to treat somebody that's trying to save your life, isn't it?"
    " Enough of this.