Henry Franks(56)

“Do it.”

Wind whistled through the broken window and rain pooled on the floor around them. Henry pulled off his belt and tied it around her leg.

“Now,” he said and she squeezed her fingers down on his foot as he pulled the glass out.

Blood soaked through her clothes. Henry tightened the belt and pressed his hands into her thigh until the bleeding stopped. When he looked up, her face was pale, eyes wide open in a sea of tears.

“You all right?” he asked.

Justine smiled, then a harsh little laugh escaped. “No,” she said, and then laughed again.

Lightning flashed and the thunder followed immediately behind. A shadow fell across the window, but it was difficult to see once the lightning went away.

“Get up!” Henry screamed, reaching for Justine’s hand.

He wrapped his arm around her and she leaned against him as they scrambled to the kitchen, both limping.

“On the counter,” she said, pointing to the knife block next to the sink.

Henry and Justine backed up until they had no place else to run. Knives in each hand, they waited in the kitchen.





thirty three




Lightning struck a tree outside, sparks shooting off as the top half broke free, crashing into the roof. Plaster fell from the ceiling, sticking to their skin, wet with rain and blood. A figure appeared in the doorway, long hair dripping water to the floor.

“Mom?” Henry said, his voice raw. He lowered the knives.

Another lightning strike, and the shadows disappeared.

Long hair flying in the wind, a sick grin missing a tooth, and unmistakably male.



William took a shallow breath, then fought his eyes open. Lightning lit the room, the wind whistling through the broken window. Chrissy sat with him, his head in her lap as her fingers played through his hair. Her every breath came out as a hiss, forced through what remained of her throat.

“Henry?” she whispered.

William blinked, but she was still there, the faint trace of a smile somewhere in her damaged face. “Chrissy.” He coughed, trying to clear his lungs. A bubble of blood popped as his lips opened. “What happened?”

“Henry?” she asked again.

“Storm,” he said, pointing toward the window. “Thought you were chasing them.”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. She moved him to the floor and ran to where the broken glass was letting the hurricane in.

“You attacked me.” He stretched out toward her but she was too far away. His arms fell to the ground.

At the window, she shook her head again.

“Chrissy,” he said, then louder to be heard over the wind. “Chrissy!”

She turned around and looked at him. “Henry?”

“You didn’t?” he asked, pointing to his head, where the blood still ran in thick rivers down his skin.

Once more, she shook her head.

His eyes closed as another cough sent dizzy waves of nausea through him.

“Henry?”

William sighed. “I don’t know,” he closed his eyes. “I thought it was you.”

Lightning broke the sky open, slicing through the tree outside.

“I’m sorry,” he tried to say, but by the time she reached her husband’s side, he was beyond speaking.

“Frank,” she said, the word barely more than a sigh, impossible to understand, and then she kissed him one final time as he died.



The stranger hissed, raising a pipe over his head, swinging it at random in the darkness as he walked toward them.

“Justine, run!” Henry screamed, standing between her and the stranger, knives held high in front of him once again as the footsteps came closer.

Glass shattered to the floor from the kitchen door, and another body crashed into the man with the pipe. Rain poured into the room, the wind screaming across them. Justine grabbed Henry’s hand as the two people rolled over each other on the floor.

The man landed on top, raising the pipe high as he prepared to strike. As one, Henry and Justine lunged forward, each driving a knife into his side. The pipe fell out of his hand as he toppled to the ground.

Lightning struck again, lighting the room. Beneath the dying man, a woman struggled to free herself.

Henry pulled the body off and the woman scrambled back against the wall. Long brown hair lay flat against her scalp, and even in the dim light he could see the necklace of scars she wore.

“Henry,” she hissed, almost a moan, the word barely recognizable.

“Mom?”

Hope and Tragedy in the Aftermath of Erika

Saint Simons Island, GA—August 31, 2009: Over three thousand Glynn County homes are still without electricity two days after Hurricane Erika made landfall to the south, in St. Marys, before turning north inland to Atlanta. It will be the end of the week before full power is restored, utilities management has said. The U.S. Department of Energy, concentrating most resources in Camden County, which suffered a direct hit, says that power has already been restored to 38 percent of those residences in Georgia that lost power in the storm.

Mayor Jim Monroe of Brunswick, helping local businesses clean up the island, praised the efforts of law enforcement and the citizens of Glynn County. “The Golden Isles should be incredibly proud of the men and women who serve here.”