Henry Franks A Novel - By Peter Adam Salomon Page 0,51
moving toward the west near 15 mph and this motion is expected to continue tonight and Saturday. On the projected path, the eye of Erika is expected to make landfall along the northern coast of Florida or the southern coast of Georgia late tonight.
Maximum sustained winds are near 150 mph with higher gusts. Erika is a potentially catastrophic Category 5 hurricane with some weakening in strength expected prior to landfall.
Hurricane force winds extend outward up to 50 miles from the center with tropical storm force winds for an additional 100 miles.
twenty seven
“We need to leave,” Justine said, but she made no move to stand up.
The hissing of the wind came alive in the dark. Henry slid out of his chair and crawled beneath the desk to unplug the laptop from the docking station. Sitting on the floor, he tugged Justine’s hand to pull her down next to him.
“This isn’t good, Henry.”
“I know.”
The last page to load glowed on his laptop, running off the battery. “Without power there’s no Internet,” he said. “So, this is it.”
His voice barely carried over the rain and wind, and the evacuation siren blared its ugly warning across the island.
On the verge of panic, William slid the car into the driveway, rolling up onto the grass. He jumped out, not even bothering to close the door as he ran up the steps, slipping in the rain and banging his knee into the wooden porch railing. The key wouldn’t fit in the lock as his hands shook, and he tried to take a deep breath to still his fingers. Up and to the right, he jerked the knob but it didn’t budge. Again, he fought to open the door.
Rain beat against him, and the wind howled in fury as the lock finally released. A branch broke off a tree, the sound echoing in the storm. The crack seemed to be right behind him and William stumbled against the door, pushing it open further. When he turned around to close it, lightning lit up the world. In the corner of his vision, he saw the shadow before anything else, long hair caught by the wind.
William opened the door wider. The rain flooded the floor until, with one more flash of lightning, the shadows were banished. The door broke halfway off its hinges with the blow as he staggered under the weight of his attacker. Long hair flew everywhere as he fell into the house and, with one final spike of lightning, William caught a single glimpse of the pipe right before it landed above his eyes.
The fury of the storm whistled up the stairs from the door, which banged open and closed downstairs. The wind seemed to be coming from all directions at once as Henry and Justine stared at the monitor.
Birmingham, AL—November 16, 2007: The bodies of Alexandra Raynes, 23, and her five-year-old daughter, Elizabeth, were discovered by Alexandra’s parents, Douglas and Cynthia Raynes of Mountain Brook, late in the afternoon of November 14. The alleged shooter in the apparent murder-suicide, Elizabeth’s father, Victor Steinlicht, 24, was rushed to Copper Green Hospital in critical condition.
“They’d just celebrated Beth’s birthday,” Cynthia Raynes said. “Everyone was there.”
“That boy just destroyed our family,” said Douglas Raynes. “Alexandra was just starting back at school, rest her soul.”
A candlelight vigil is planned for the evening of November 16 at Mountain Brook Baptist Church on Montevallo Road.
Hospital sources, who wish to remain anonymous as they are not authorized to discuss the case, are now reporting that Steinlicht died late in the day on November 15, one day after shooting himself.
“He wasn’t exactly a quiet boy-next-door type,” said Police Sergeant Ralph Simson.
The office of Jefferson County Chief Medical Examiner Dr. Frank Williams released a short statement: “The body was cremated, per the wishes of the family.”
Members of the Steinlicht family were unavailable for comment and messages left at their house were not returned.
The front door swung in the wind, knocking against the wall. In the flashes of lightning, William struggled to open his eyes, the pain of the first blow throbbing through his head. Above him, his attacker raised the pipe a second time. Thunder masked the hissing and the wind roared into the house with a vengeance. Each time he blinked, a double-image flashed across his vision, but the pipe obscured everything save for the long hair swirling around it as his sight faded away.
Shadows, confusing and out of focus, were everywhere as William fought to open his eyes again, waiting for the