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    Weathering the Storm and Other Unnatural Disasters
    Weathering the Storm and Other Unnatural Disasters
    Weathering the Storm and Other Unnatural Disasters
    Ebook93 pages1 hour

    Weathering the Storm and Other Unnatural Disasters

    By Daniel R. Robichaud

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    About this ebook

    50% of the cover price from each sale of this eBook will go to the Red Cross for Tropical Storm Harvey disaster relief.

    A family trapped in a resort discover the hurricane delivered waters pouring down around them may possess strange powers. A terrible secret breeds in a dark, sealed off bomb shelter tucked beneath a soup kitchen. A factory owner in near future China finds his honor and emotions tested by an industrial accident. A warning appears on a phone screen urging a man to abandon his family and seek shelter. An evacuation during a lull in Tropical Storm Harvey reveals the presence of something old and powerful walking the world.

    Daniel R. Robichaud presents six short, speculative tales of humanity pitted against man-made, natural, and personal disasters. In these tales, human courage and darkness vie for dominance in the human heart. Character can be shaped by adversity, but will these disasters strengthen souls or break them?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTwice Told Tales II
    Release dateAug 29, 2017
    ISBN9781370883080
    Weathering the Storm and Other Unnatural Disasters
    Author

    Daniel R. Robichaud

    Daniel R. Robichaud has lived in southeastern Michigan, central Massachusetts and southern Texas. He is a Rhysling Award nominated poet and the author of over one hundred stories, articles and poems, which have appeared in such markets as Shroud Magazine, Rogue Worlds, Goblin Fruit, Rage of the Behemoth, Green Prints, and WritersWeekly. Daniel holds degrees in both Physics and English, and his career path has reflected these passions. In addition to his numerous writing opportunities, he has been an Igor For Hire (aka a freelance research engineer), a substitute teacher, an automation engineer, and a neurophysiology lab manager. Daniel enjoys entertaining people with his words and stories. If you enjoy a good read, why not try one of his works? You might just love them.

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      Book preview

      Weathering the Storm and Other Unnatural Disasters - Daniel R. Robichaud

      Weathering the Storm

      and Other Unnatural Disasters

      By: Daniel R. Robichaud

      Table of Contents

      Weathering the Storm

      Heat, Pressure, and Oxygen

      Gimmie Shelter

      What the Eye Sees, What the Ear Hears

      Tornado Warning

      A Goddess Passed By

      Author's Note

      Further Reading

      About the Author

      Weathering the Storm

      When Brian returned from the ice machine, he spotted an old, white man sitting outside the room next door to his. Clearly another Mouseworld visitor. Had to be sixty and wearing a cartoon duck embossed polo shirt.

      The Calypso Building of the musically themed All Star Resort was open air, no interior hallways. Room doors opened to the Florida night. Solid walkways on the floors above offered makeshift awnings, but not enough to provide perfect protection from rain. Much less what was coming...

      Don’t know how smart it is, sitting outside, Brian said to the old man, The wind’s already picking up. I think you might want to get in.

      The Old Man glanced over.

      I hope you’re not racist, Brian thought.

      The old man’s ancient lips stretched into a smile and displayed a brilliantly clean set of dentures. Oh, I’ll be fine, he said. Uncertainty filled his face, Eh, I’m sorry. We’re neighbors, but I don’t think I caught your name.

      Brian.

      Ah, Brian. Should be easy enough to remember, had a friend named Brian in Saigon.

      Great. Here comes a war story. He glanced through the picture window, saw his nine-year old son jumping on one of the beds, while his beautiful, ebony queen of a wife, Zapora, lovely and large with baby number two, gently tried to convince him to stop.

      Your boy?

      No story? Lucky break. Yes, sir. His name is—

      Gary.

      No, actually it’s Tuck.

      The old man’s smile returned. It made his whole face light up. No, I’m Gary. He stuck out a hand; Brian shook it. Tuck’s a good name for a boy. Short for Tucker?

      Nope. The wife and I thought that sounded a little too much like trucker. We decided to let him select his own occupation.

      Gary laughed. His whole body shook as though this was one of the funniest things he’d ever heard. Poor guy’s just lonely.

      So, how’s he liking Mouseland? Gary asked.

      World, Brian said, Land’s in California. His eyes widened with embarrassment. "Oh, hell. Listen to me lecture. Sorry. I heard that so much from him, Brian indicated Tuck with a tilt of his head, that it’s become rote."

      Details are important.

      Yes. At that age everything has to be just right.

      So, he’s enjoying?

      For the most part. Until they decided to close the Miracle Kingdom early. Did you hear?

      Storm’s coming, Gary nodded.

      Tomorrow, they won’t be opening the parks at all. They suggest sticking inside. I hope I can keep Tuck from bouncing off the walls too hard.

      Pretty bad hurricane season, this year, Gary admitted, This’ll be number four.

      Brian snickered and shook his head, If I’d known, I would’ve scheduled different.

      So, how far in advance did you book?

      Nine months.

      Congratulations, it’s a hurricane!

      Both men chuckled. Suddenly, conversation hit its worst part. Brian had never been much good at endings, letting them drag on unbelievably long with the most asinine, inconsequential small talk.

      Gary nipped the situation in the bud. Well, tonight promises to be rough. A man should be with his family. Then, he returned to studying the rain and palm trees.

      An economical and clean break; Brian was momentarily in awe. He could just walk away, no overwrought bushels of useless chitchat.

      His mouth ruined everything. You should probably get inside, too.

      Gary’s brilliant blue gaze returned. Oh, I will. I’m just waiting.

      For what?

      Gary turned back toward the foliage, alive with lightning fast lizards no longer than Brian’s ring finger. The old man mumbled something that sounded like, Youth.

      Brian stood there a moment longer, then went into his room.

      Tuck, he said, don’t jump on that. Play your Gameboy or something.

      So, what were you up to? Zapora was sitting on the second bed, her hand draped across the swollen belly holding Tuck’s brother or sister. No gender determining ultrasound, they wanted to be surprised.

      Talking with our neighbor, Brian said, His name's Gary.

      That old whitey? Tuck asked.

      Just because he ain’t a brotha don’t mean nothin’. Brian said, "We’s all brothas on the inside."

      Tuck giggled.

      Zapora asked, Is Gary concerned about the storm?

      Brian considered the question, briefly, then shook his head. He seems a little excited, I think.

      "That’s cuz the hurricane’ll be cool, Tuck’s lips stretched into absolute glee, You think we’ll see a funnel cloud, dad?"

      This isn’t exactly like a tornado, Brian said. Or was it? He didn’t have the first idea about hurricanes. You never saw them in Detroit.

      Zapora came to the rescue, Why don’t we watch the Weather Channel and find out?

      Dad?

      Sounds good to me, bucko.

      Cool, Tuck said, Maybe we’ll see footage of some houses getting flattened!

      Zapora’s eyes widened with concern.

      Brian offered her his most reassuring grin: Hey, at nine, this is cool stuff.

      The truth was worse than either Brian or Zapora could imagine. Tuck could and did picture an even grimmer situation and was nearly disappointed that events had not conspired to make things more awful.

      Though the modest cable feed available in the resort rooms did not feature the Weather Channel specifically, each of the local access news stations had become surrogates, ripe with facts, warnings and multicolored images of the enormous, ocean born, aerial vortex rolling toward the Florida coast. Thermal imaging? Color-coded Doppler radar? Brian wasn’t sure what the colors meant, but they gave the weather system a distinctly angry personality. Fiery reds and yellows.

      It had decimated several island nations. Orlando was already reeling from the previous hurricanes—a trio of ball busters—and this promised more of the same. Or worse.

      Estimations put the brunt of the storm hitting land, at close to three in the morning. Residents were already being evacuated. The airport was closed.

      Will we be safe? Zapora asked, nervously petting her stomach, as though the growing child within required comforting.

      Brian studied the room. It was cheaply decorated and just large enough for a pair of double beds, a nightstand, a bistro table, a pair of chairs and a dresser. At the rear, a niche holding

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