Survive The Fall | Book 4 | Total Collapse Read online

  Copyright

  Total Collapse

  Copyright © 2020 by Derek Shupert

  Cover design by Derek Shupert

  Cover art by Covers by Christian

  Cover Copyright © 2020 by Derek Shupert

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictionally and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to person, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For information contact :

  Derek Shupert

  www.derekshupert.com

  First Edition

  Contents

  Also by Derek Shupert

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Enjoy the book? Make your voice heard…

  Also by Derek Shupert

  About the Author

  Also By Derek Shupert

  SURVIVE THE FALL SERIES :

  POWERLESS WORLD

  MADNESS RISING

  DARK ROADS

  TOTAL COLLAPSE

  FIGHT BACK (PREORDER NOW)

  THE COMPLETE DEAD STATE SERIES :

  DEAD STATE : CATALYST (PREQUEL)

  DEAD STATE : FALLOUT

  DEAD STATE : SURVIVAL ROAD

  DEAD STATE : EXECUTIONER

  DEAD STATE : IMMUNE

  DEAD STATE : EVOLVED

  THE COMPLETE DEAD STATE SERIES BOX SET

  THE COMPLETE AFFLICTED SERIES :

  GENESIS (PREQUEL)

  PATIENT ZERO

  RIPTIDE

  DEAD RECKONING

  THE HUNTRESS BANE SERIES :

  THE HUNTRESS BANE (SHORT STORY)

  TAINTED HUNTER

  CRIMSON THIRST

  THE COMPLETE BALLISTIC MECH SERIES :

  DIVISION

  INFERNO

  EXTINCTION

  PAYBACK

  Stay up on the latest news!

  For updates about new releases, special promotions, and the latest insider information, visit the author’s website. Head there now and get your FREE copy of Survive the End.

  Note: (I loathe spam with a deep dark passion and promise to never spam you.)

  www.derekshupert.com

  Social Media Links

  Let’s connect! You can follow Derek Shupert on Amazon, Facebook , Twitter, Instagram, and BookBub.

  I also created a fun Facebook group, The Official Derek Shupert Fan Club, where readers can come and interact with me on a more personal level. Ask me questions and learn more about my crazy world. Stop by and join in on the fun!

  CHAPTER ONE

  RUSSELL

  The white Chevy Silverado tore down I-66E at full tilt, hugging each sharp turn they plowed through. Clyde glanced at the rearview mirror, searching for the older model brown Trailblazer that had tried to run them off the road a few miles back.

  “Do you see them?” he asked, looking to the sideview mirror. “I’ve lost sight of the SUV.”

  Russell turned in his seat, then looked past Cathy and her German shepherd, Max, to the back window of the truck. The road behind them sat empty of any vehicles. “I don’t see anything back there except open road. I think we’ve lost them, or their engine finally gave out. I thought I spotted smoke coming out from under the hood. I guess that’s what we get for trying to help someone in need. The only thing they wanted was to kill us and take the Silverado.”

  Clyde kept his hands at ten and two on the steering wheel–attention focused at the winding road ahead. “Good. Let’s hope it stays that way. Whoever they are, they’re not getting my damn truck. No way that’s going to happen.”

  Cathy wedged her body between the door and corner of the bench seat. Her right leg stretched out across the rich leather upholstery. She braced her hand against the back of Russell’s captain’s chair to keep her from sliding through each hard turn. Her lips pursed, face scrunched in discomfort from the gunshot wound she’d sustained the day before.

  “How’s the leg feeling?” Russell asked, glancing at her upper thigh.

  “It’s feeling a bit better, but still throbs some. The pain pills are helping, though,” she replied.

  Max, laid next to Cathy with his chin draped over her shin. He looked at Russell with his large, uncertain eyes.

  “I’ve still got some of that liquor I found back at that convenience store we stopped at if you want something additional to take the edge off,” Russell said, patting his pant pocket.

  Cathy shook her head, then waved her hand. “No thanks. I already feel a bit out of it from the pills. Adding alcohol would only make it worse, and right now, I need to be alert.”

  Russell nodded. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  “Are we still looking good to make it to Philadelphia in the next few hours?” Cathy asked. “I want to get to Amber as fast as we can.”

  “Now that we’ve lost that Blazer, I don’t see any reason we shouldn’t make it to your daughter soon,” Russell answered, hopeful.

  “Perfect,” Cathy said, looking out the window. A loud pop sounded from the front of the truck. It swerved from side to side.

  “Oh, crap,” Clyde said, grabbing the steering wheel tighter.

  Russell faced forward in the passenger seat, then stared at the dash. “What was that? Did one of the tires blow out?”

  Clyde studied the steering wheel, then looked at the gauges on the dash. “Yeah. I think so. Hold on.”

  The Silverado drifted toward the shoulder of the road. Clyde fought to keep the truck within the painted lines. A loud thumping noise filled the cab. It grew louder by the second.

  “We need to pull over and check it out, then. We mess up the rim, we’re screwed,” Russell said, feeling the truck shudder underneath him. “You’ve got a spare tire, right?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got a full-sized tire mounted under the bed of the truck.” Clyde pulled onto the shoulder of the road. “It’ll take a few minutes to get it down, though. They don’t make it easy.”

  The truck came to a rough stop. Clyde shifted into park, killed the engine, then pulled the keys from the ignition.

  “Let’s check to see what sort of damage has been done,” Russell said, checking the sideview mirror for any vehicles coming down the interstate.

  He tugged on the handle, pushed the door open, then climbed down the pavement. Clyde moved around the front of the Silverado toward the passenger side. Russell closed the door, then peered down at the flat front tire that had been shredded and gashed open.

  Clyde kneeled next to the truck, then rubbed his hand over his face. He grabbed a piece of the mangled rubber and pulled. “Not sure what we hit, but it blew it out good.”

  “How long do you think it will take to replace it and get back on the road?” Russell asked, pointing at the tire.

&nb
sp; “Not too long.” Clyde stood, then faced the bed of the truck. “I’ll get the tire, then work on changing it out.”

  Cathy rolled her window down, then draped her arm over the side of the door. “How bad is it?”

  Russell looked at the tire, then back to Cathy. “It’s pretty much toast. Clyde is going to change it real quick, then we’ll get back on the road.”

  Clyde opened the back driver’s side door.

  Max turned and looked at him. Clyde rubbed his head, bent over, and felt under the bench seat. Max’s ears stood on end; gaze focused on the tree line beyond the cab of the truck. He groaned, then stood up in the seat, stepping on Cathy’s leg in the process.

  She nudged his back with her hand, then pushed him off. “Yeah. I know you probably need to pee.” Cathy pulled her arm back into the truck, then opened her door. Russell shut it just as fast.

  “What are you doing?” Cathy asked. “I don’t think Clyde wants Max hosing down his nice leather seats.”

  “I’ll take him over there. You sit here and rest. Keep an eye out for that Trailblazer,” Russell patted the inside of the door. “Come on, bud. Let’s go use the restroom.”

  Max’s pink tongue dangled from his mouth. He barked, then leapt from the bench seat to the weeds growing alongside the road.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it,” Cathy said, offering Russell a warm smile.

  Russell smiled back. “Not a problem.”

  Clyde dropped the tools on the pavement near the tailgate.

  Russell walked the length of the bed while watching Max sniff around the weeds, then move closer to the woods beyond. “Do you need a hand with anything?”

  “Nope. I got it. Shouldn’t take too long,” Clyde replied, opening the black case that housed the tools.

  “Sounds good.” Russell patted the top of the tailgate, then skirted past him, heading for the grass. “Max, come on, bud. Stay in the grass.”

  Max paused just shy of entering the woods. He glanced back at Russell with his front paw raised. His ears twitched as if he heard movement within the dense foliage.

  “Don’t do it,” Russell said, walking down the slight embankment as Max looked over the trees.

  Max barked, then took off into the woods.

  Russell sighed, and jogged after him. They’d grown rather close since the day Cathy and Max saved him from the mountain lion after his plane crashed in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The adventures they’d shared brought them closer, creating a tight bond between the two.

  They’d faced unscrupulous lawmen who sent them deep into the woods to save Cathy, and fought against ruthless gangs in a small town while trying to gather supplies and medicine.

  Max lurked in the verdure, his curved, brown, furry tail catching Russell’s attention through gaps between the bushes and trees. The canine had discovered something.

  “Max. Come on. We need to stay close to the truck. This isn’t the best time to poke around.” Russell clapped his hands, craned his neck, and pushed his way through the bushes before him, entering the woods. “I’m not asking again. Let’s go.”

  The German shepherd trotted over to him, nose trained to the ground. A rustling noise came from close by. Max paused, turned his head, and searched for the disturbance. He growled and advanced.

  Russell reached for the collar around Max’s neck. “Don’t even think about it. Leave whatever it is alone and let’s get back-”

  Max took off in a mad dash, charging the sound and pulling away from Russell’s hand.

  Crap.

  The canine honed in on the animal, trotting through the carpet of leaves and leaping over fallen timber.

  Russell ran his hand over his face, then looked back at the truck. The clock was ticking, and they didn’t have time to mess around. He chased after the runaway canine, tracking him down through the trees and bushes.

  “Stop this and come here, now!” Russell fought to keep the trotting pup in his view. He skirted past trees and leapt over fallen logs to close the distance between them.

  Max had all but vanished, but the crunching of leaves and rustling of bushes allowed Russell to follow him. The sound remained close. He took a moment to catch his breath and searched the dense woods for the elusive canine.

  Russell fished out the small bottle of whiskey from his jeans. He peered at the brown tinted bottle with uncertain eyes, thinking of Sarah and how he needed to stop, but the stress of the end of the world proved more challenging to face without the liquid courage.

  Just a sip. That’s all you need, Russell told himself.

  He took a small swig.

  The whiskey splashed against his tongue and down his throat. Russell closed his eyes and savored the flavor of the spirit. He took one more hearty swig, secured the cap on the top, then shoved it back into the pocket of his jeans.

  Max materialized from around the side of a thick bush with his tongue dangling from his mouth. He panted, gave his coat a good shake, then looked up at Russell.

  “Are you done now?” Russell asked, staring at the unruly German shepherd.

  Max trotted past Russell, heading in the direction of the truck. Russell followed at his side, stepping around the fallen trees and bushes.

  Gunfire crackled. Russell yanked his .38 Special from the waistband of his jeans and paused. Max stopped at Russell’s side, his gaze focused in the direction of the truck.

  A sickening feeling rose in the pit of Russell’s stomach as he glanced at the road. He looked at the Silverado, spotting three men standing near the back of the cab and the front of the bed where Cathy sat.

  The brown Trailblazer was parked behind the truck. Smoke escaped from under the hood and the front of the grill.

  Max growled but stayed at Russell’s side, head trained toward the road.

  Russell patted the side of the German shepherd’s muscular body, then said, “Come on. We’ve got trouble.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  RUSSELL

  Max stalked through the trees and brush toward the road. A growl escaped. His fangs glistened with spit. The fur running along his spine stood on end.

  Russell kept close, hunched at the canine’s side–watching the truck and the three men. He took a knee, hiding in the dense woods. His arm wrapped around Max’s neck and kept him close. The tremor of a bark vibrated deep in the German shepherd’s chest.

  “It’s all right,” Russell whispered to the anxious canine.

  Two of the men vanished beyond the cab. The other peered into the bed of the truck, then moved around the tailgate toward the driver’s side. He carried a pistol in his hand that hung next to his leg. The red ballcap he wore was pulled tight on his head, concealing a portion of his face. He glanced at the woods for a brief moment and made for the cab.

  Max inched forward, growling louder.

  Russell tightened his hold around Max’s neck, trying to keep him silent. “Not yet. Just hold on.”

  Red Ballcap opened the back driver’s side door, revealing Cathy being pulled out of the cab by the sleeve of her coat on the far side. She wrenched her arm away, but was yanked out of the truck just the same.

  Max barked and lunged forward.

  Russell lost his grip around Max’s neck, but grabbed his collar before he could slip away.

  Red Ballcap paused, then turned toward the woods. He swept the tree line with his gun. One of the other men pulled Cathy out of the way, then pointed through the cab at the woods.

  Max lunged forward, testing Russell’s hold around his collar. Growls radiated from his body.

  Russell searched for a better spot for them to hide and wait for Red Ballcap. A cluster of bushes near a tree close by caught his eye. He pulled on Max’s collar, stayed low, and wrestled the tense canine to the thick brush.

  Twigs snapped under Russell’s boots.

  Max thrashed, fighting to break free.

  Red Ballcap moved through the weeds with his pistol sweeping the woods. Russell caught a glimpse of the lean man heading toward the tree
line.

  Max groaned and growled. The footfalls of Red Ballcap set him further on edge. He inched forward and clawed at the ground, trying to slip free.

  Russell rubbed his side to calm him down and peered through the opening within the bushes that surrounded the base of the tree. He tucked the .38 Special in the waistband of his jeans and grabbed a dense branch from the ground near his boot. He needed something silent to handle the thug that wouldn’t alert the other two men.

  Max sat on his haunches. He shifted his weight between his legs, anxious and ready to attack the approaching threat.

  “Here doggy, doggy.” Red Ballcap whistled for Max. “Is anyone else out here with you?”

  Russell kept his fingers wrapped around Max’s collar and watched the lean bearded man skim over the woods. He continued whistling and calling for Max, patting his leg to draw the anxious canine out.

  “If anyone is out here, come out now, and you won’t get hurt,” Red ballcap said, running his hand over his face.

  The sun shined through the canopy overhead, offering small pockets of light that hit the ground. The woodland animals scurried through the leaves. Birds chirped from high above in trees.

  Max growled, then barked.

  Red Ballcap froze, turned toward the bushes, and zeroed in on them.

  “Is anyone else out there with that dog?” a raspy voice asked, screaming from the Silverado. “I could have sworn there were three people in this truck earlier.”

  “I think I found the dog. Hold on,” Red Ballcap answered, drawing closer.

  Russell dragged Max around to the far side of the tree. They stayed low and silent, minimizing any unwanted noise. Max’s ears twitched with each footfall of the armed man approaching. Russell pressed his back to the thick trunk of the tree and slid around to get a better look.

  Red Ballcap craned his neck and peered over the bushes to the open space on the other side. He lifted his piece and glanced the ground.

  Max jerked free from Russell’s hand and vanished around the other side of the tree. He raced through the fallen leaves and twigs.