Frankenstorm: Deranged Read Online Free Page A

a storm outside and a bunch of crazy, virus-carrying people in here. Safest thing you could do would be to stay right here in this room.”
    Ollie and Craig left the office.
    Fara pulled away from Emilio, shaking her head. She spoke quietly, just above a whisper. “I couldn’t. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.”
    “Couldn’t what?”
    “Stop it. I tried. I reported him three times. I kept thinking I should leave, but I didn’t because I couldn’t . I couldn’t just walk away from this, I kept hoping I’d find a way to do something. What I did with you today, that recording—I should have done that months ago. Months ago. But I just . . . I was afraid of ruining my life, or something, of becoming this, this, I don’t know, public whipping post. My whole life plastered all over TV and the Internet.”
    “People will say you’re a hero, Fara,” he said.
    “Some might,” Corcoran said.
    They turned to see him sitting in Fara’s chair at her desk. He had his feet on the desk, ankles crossed, and he was leaning back in the chair, holding his cell phone to his right ear. He’d been a trembling wreck earlier, but now he appeared quite relaxed and comfortable. He was watching them with a smile. In the candlelight, the smile had a ghoulish appearance—the small mouth elongated and surrounded by the deep lines of Corcoran’s face. His glasses were pushed up on his forehead and his eyes, even in the poor light, were red and puffy and gleaming. But his smile was warm and cheerful and he sounded rather chipper when he spoke.
    “I’m making a call,” he explained, “and I’m on hold.”
    “Who are you calling?” Fara said.
    “An associate.” He kept smiling. “Look, some might say you’re a hero. For a while. You’d probably get a book deal right away, be on all the talk shows. Half the country would despise you and want to string you up, but you’d have those who say you’re a hero. Until they find out you’ve got real fur in your closet. Or that you like veal and foie gras. Or that you don’t like Lady Gaga, or some dumb thing like that. Until they find out you’re human. Then they’ll just throw you under the bus. Or worse!” he said, his eyebrows rising high up on his spacious forehead. “They’ll hand you over to the people who want to string you up!” Then he laughed loudly until his laughs became coughs and he had to drop his feet to the floor and sit up straight as he hacked and coughed and wheezed, still holding the phone to his ear. When it stopped, he took his glasses off his head, put them on the desk, and scrubbed a hand down his face. Then he put the glasses on his nose and pushed them back up on his forehead again. He chuckled quietly as he settled back in the chair and put his feet back up on the desk.
    “You seem awfully happy,” Fara said.
    Corcoran, still smiling, said, “Who, me? Well, Dr. McManus, if you’d taken the opportunity to get to know me during our time here, you would know that I am generally a happy person. I am optimistic, upbeat, and good-natured, and there’s very little that can get me down.”
    “Even this? A hurricane? A raid by a private militia? The discovery of your kidnapped human subjects, and the potential spread of the deadly virus you’ve created? To say nothing of a possible career-ending scandal that could land you in prison? None of that troubles you?”
    “I remain singularly untroubled.”
    “Well, that could be the drugs.”
    His smile opened and he laughed quietly. “You could be right.”
    “You’re wasted,” Fara said. She spoke quietly, but with contempt and anger. “Like some teenager. Completely wasted.”
    “I’d hate to be in this situation without some chemical assistance,” Corcoran said with a chuckle, “but I assure you I am quite sound.” He smiled at the ceiling.
    “How can you call yourself a scientist and do the things you’ve done here, conduct yourself the way you have, I mean, the drugs, the