Read Online The Hurricane by Hugh Howey - Free Book Online

spiraling to its doom—
    ••••
    Daniel woke to thunder and the sensation of falling. The
house was shaking, his mom crying out in alarm, powder from the ceiling
drifting into his eyes as he looked up. He had a sudden image of a wave crashing
over their house, of it disappearing in foam, his nightmare images leaking out
into the noise and clamor of the real .
    “What was that?” Zola asked. She sat up and clutched at
Daniel. The house was still reverberating from the great crash. The echo of the
noise, the sound of it from his dreams—and then Daniel realized the boom that
woke them had been much louder than any of the other storm noises. The wind
outside was terrifying and loud. It seemed to have grown louder. Daniel could
hear the bones and joints of their house cracking and popping, almost as if the
nails his father had driven by hand were now coming loose.
    Carlton lit a candle. “Sounded like something hitting the
house,” he said.
    There was fear or sleepiness in his voice. Daniel could hear
a swishing sound beyond the howl of the wind as sheets of rain pummeled the
siding. It sounded like a massive straw broom was being raked violently across
the house, over and over.
    “Like a boat, or something?” Daniel had images of Hugo in
his mind. They were miles from shore and the nearest marina, but he couldn’t
shake the image of waves crashing over their house, like in his dream.
    “Probably a tree.”
    “Is there anything we should do?” his mother asked. She lit
another candle, and Daniel saw for the first time that his all-powerful mom was
scared and at a loss. He pried Zola’s fingernails out of his arm and patted the
backs of her hands.
    “Sorry,” his sister said.
    “Can I take a flashlight and go look?”
    His mom and stepdad both frowned at him. “This is the safest
place to be until the storm’s over,” his mom said.
    “I’ve gotta pee,” said Zola, bouncing her knees.
    “Just a quick look, Mom. Just to see what it was. I won’t be
long.”
    Their mother looked back and forth between him and Zola,
then turned to Carlton.
    “I wouldn’t mind seeing what’s going on out there,” Carlton
admitted.
    “Alright. We’ll move out into the hallway and take turns
using the bathroom. Nobody flushes, okay? We’ll do that last.”
    Zola groaned. “Are you serious?”
    “And I’ve got a garbage bag here somewhere for the toilet
paper so it doesn’t clog up.” Their mom dug in the bag of supplies she’d been
using as a pillow.
    “This sucks,” Zola said.
    “You’re lucky you’re going first,” Daniel told her. He
grabbed one of the flashlights. Carlton flicked one of the others on and back
off again. The three of them shuffled into the hallway as Zola lifted the top
lid of the toilet, still complaining under her breath.
    “Damn, the house is moving ,” Daniel said.
    “Watch your language,” his mom said.
    “We forgot to crack the windows,” Carlton hissed. He flicked
on his flashlight as Zola pushed the door shut, squeezing off the light from
the candles inside.
    Daniel turned on his flashlight. “Why would we crack the
windows?”
    “It’s supposed to regulate the pressure inside and out. I
don’t know if it’s an old wives tale or if there’s anything to it—”
    “My dad used to make us do it as well,” his mom said. “They
used to say it kept the roof from sucking off.”
    “Is that what that noise was?”
    “Nah, I think that was a tree hitting the house. It probably
sounded a lot worse than it actually was.”
    “We should crack the windows, I think,” his mom said,
indecision in her voice.
    There was a flushing sound in the bathroom.
    “I’m sorry!” Zola called out. She cracked the door just as
their mom was reaching for the knob. “It was a habit. I couldn’t stop myself!”
    The toilet gurgled; Zola pouted in the cone of light from
Daniel’s flashlight. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
    “It’s okay,” their mom said. She patted Zola on the