The Apocalypse Hoarder
Minutes later, the first flakes began to fall.
At first, they were the size of fingernails. Within two minutes, they had swelled into thick goose-feather snow, pouring from the black sky in a blinding curtain.
The wind howled. The snowfall turned violent, as if someone had ripped open the clouds and hurled the sky straight down onto Volaris.
There was no warning or easing in. Only nature, raw and merciless.
Even with his fortress walls, Cyrus' pulse quickened. He had lived through the Frostfall once before. He knew how cruel it could be. Could his 1,600,000-dollar safehouse truly withstand what was coming?