Survive The Fall | Book 4 | Total Collapse Page 3

  Russell looked at Clyde. “Hopefully we can find some fuel while we’re there.”

  “We will. Gas pumps aren’t the only place to get fuel,” Clyde replied, winking.

  CHAPTER THREE

  SARAH

  Sarah felt lucky to be alive, having slipped through the Irish mob’s fingers, and Bryce’s crew, though, she wasn’t out of the woods yet. Both had been hired by the same ruthless overseas drug lord, Valintino. Sarah was on his radar, and he showed no signs of letting her go.

  Her hands tightened over the steering wheel of the Boston Police Cruiser, knuckles turning a milky white. Panted breaths escaped her mouth, her chest heaving with fear and adrenaline. Sarah mashed the gas pedal to the floor, heading for the street and away from the mob’s hideout.

  She glanced at the rearview mirror, watching Spencer, her stalker and tormentor, drift farther away from the fleeing vehicle. He claimed that he longed to have Sarah for himself and protect her from those who wanted to do her harm, but he’d had a hand in her daughter’s death and ripping her family apart.

  Spencer stopped, turned around, and ran back toward the BMW parked in the alley.

  The cruiser drifted near the brick buildings Sarah drove alongside. Her eyes stayed glued to the mirror and Spencer, watching his every move. He opened fire on one of Bryce’s goons who came stumbling out of the mob boss’s building, hitting him center mass.

  The front end of the squad car plowed through trash cans. The silver tinted lids popped free. Black bags of garbage flew from the insides and slammed the hood and windshield. They tumbled over the top and back down the trunk.

  Sarah flinched, then wrenched the steering wheel counterclockwise. The passenger side mirror scraped over the rigid surface of the brick building. The cruiser cut across the alley, out of control, then sped out into the street.

  The front end bottomed out over the slight dip in the road. She jerked the wheel again and pumped the brake to avoid a parked car across the street. The tires locked. The car skidded over the pavement. She gnashed her teeth and drew a sharp breath.

  The cruiser missed the side of the small, white sedan and continued down the street. Sarah regained control. She kept the gas pedal pressed to the floor and the cruiser going full tilt. She battled her nerves, trying to calm down and focus her panic-filled mind.

  The road ahead swarmed with people standing in the middle of the street, confronting what looked to be Boston PD and the military on the other side. The angry mob wielded bats, bricks, and anything else that could be used as a weapon. Fires had been set to cars that smoldered in the streets. Black smoke lifted into the sky. Shops had windows busted out and glass carpeting the sidewalks.

  Sarah slammed the brakes, stopping the cruiser. A number of people toward the back of the raging mob turned and faced the squad car. They lifted their weapons in the air and charged the vehicle. Bricks hurled at the windshield, smashing against it. The impact cracked the glass as the mob closed in.

  A panicked scream escaped Sarah’s mouth. She shifted the cruiser into reverse and hit the gas. Bats and crowbars hammered the hood of the vehicle as she backed away from the unruly heathens.

  The horde of masked vandals chased after her, unwilling to let her get away.

  Sarah’s gaze flitted to the rearview mirror, and she spotted the BMW bearing down on her. It didn’t move or drift to the far lane, but instead, it maintained its collision course with her.

  The headlights drew closer. Sarah jerked the steering wheel, sending the back end of the cruiser toward the sidewalk.

  The BMW clipped the front end on the passenger side of the squad car. Sarah lost control and plowed into a parked car near the curb. The crunching of metal filled her ears. The impact jolted her body. The seat belt snapped taut. The cruiser stalled.

  Sarah closed her eyes, shook her head, then exhaled. Her body ached all over. Her lids opened. She peered out of the spiderwebbed windshield.

  The swarm of people had dispersed, leaving the streets for the safety of the sidewalks.

  The BMW sat across the street, parked at an angle with the trunk facing her. The red hue of the brake lights filled her eyes.

  The door swung open.

  Spencer stepped out and shook his head. The white ghost skull mask concealed his face. He held his piece in his right hand as he looked her way.

  Sarah reached for the ignition and turned the engine over. It grumbled and whined, but didn’t start. She pumped the gas and tried again.

  She hammered the top of the steering wheel with her palm. “Come on, damn it. Start.”

  Spencer moved on the stalled cruiser, pistol in hand. He ventured into the middle of the street, attention focused on Sarah. He paused, then turned, staring down the road in the direction they’d come from. His arms lifted, bringing the pistol to bear.

  Fire spat from the muzzle, each report muffled by the car. He popped off three shots before being plowed into by another car. His body rolled over the hood, then up the windshield. He tumbled over the roof, then down the trunk.

  The black luxury sedan slammed its brakes and came to a skidding halt in the middle of the street. Sarah peered out of the passenger side window and craned her neck, but lost sight of Spencer’s body.

  The driver’s side door to the other BMW swung open. Leatherface stepped out, gun in hand, and looked her way. The mob boss’s enforcer refused to let her get away.

  Sarah tried the ignition again. Her foot pumped the gas in haste as she turned the key. The engine groaned and started, but then died. She tried again, watching Leatherface through the damaged windshield.

  The crowd of people fled for cover.

  Leatherface trained his pistol at the cruiser, then looked to the street where Spencer lay.

  The engine caught and fired up. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. She pumped the gas two more times, shifted into drive, then pulled away from the car she was backed into.

  Leatherface opened fire on the cruiser. Each round hammered the grill and hood.

  Sarah flinched, hit the brakes, then shifted into reverse. She spun the steering wheel and punched the gas. The tires spun and squealed. She pulled away from the mob enforcer, heading in the opposite direction down the road.

  Spencer’s body lay still–prone on his stomach. His arms stretched out over the pavement. Not a hint of life lingered in his body.

  Leatherface sprinted back to the idling BMW as two cops rushed the sedan, firing at him. Leatherface ducked and returned fire–clipping one of the officers in his right shoulder and sending him to the pavement. The officer’s partner stopped, provided cover fire, and checked on the fallen officer.

  The cruiser drifted close to the row of parked cars near the curb. Sarah jerked the steering wheel. The front end swerved inward and slammed into one the vehicles. The bumper scrapped down the passenger side. Sarah pulled away and drove past another alleyway.

  Leatherface spun the BMW around, facing her. It took off down the street, driving past Spencer and bearing down on her.

  Sarah yanked the gearshift into drive and hit the gas. She pulled into the alley with Leatherface hot on her heels. She studied the corridor ahead, then glanced to the rearview mirror.

  The BMW surged forward, gaining fast. The impact of Spencer hitting the windshield had damaged the glass near the driver’s seat. The sedan closed in and rammed the back end of the cruiser.

  “Christ,” Sarah said, her head slamming against the padded headrest.

  The cruiser swerved from side to side. Sarah worked the steering wheel, fighting to regain control. She missed the back bumper of a parked truck by mere inches.

  Leatherface rammed the squad car again. Metal crunched. The back of her skull punched the headrest. The cruiser veered toward the buildings and grinded against the surface. Sparks flew upward.

  Sarah jerked the wheel, sending the squad car away from the wall. The end of the alley had a large, dense wooden police barricade blocking her path. She kept her foot mashed to the floor, unwilling to stop.

  The front end of the cruiser plowed through the blue tinted barricade at top speed. The impact rang loud in her ears. Wood splintered. Some of the busted pieces vanished under the car while a portion flew over the roof.

  Leatherface stayed hot on Sarah, trailing her out of the alley and onto the street. He rammed the rear quarter panel on the passenger side of the cruiser, trying to swing the back end around.

  Sarah worked the steering wheel, and kept the gas pedal mashed. The back end drifted some, but she didn’t lose control.

  A red SUV flew by going in the opposite direction, missing the front end of the cruiser that had crossed the yellow line. Sarah straightened out the vehicle and pushed it down the street with the BMW on her tail.

  The city had grown more dangerous. There were no safe places left for her to go. She needed to get away and lie low. She knew of only one such place that could provide refuge.

  Sarah ran through the approaching intersection at top speed, keeping her foot on the gas. The cruiser made a wide arch around a car puttering along. She checked the rearview mirror, then the side, locating the BMW turning down the same street.

  Brake lights from ahead of her flashed from the 4 X 4 black Dodge Ram that backed into the street. Sarah slowed the cruiser. Leatherface drew closer to her.

  The front end of the truck stuck out into the street.

  Leatherface surged forward, gaining on her.

  Sarah jerked the wheel, sending the battered and beaten cruiser into the other lane.

  The truck pulled out a bit farther, then stopped.

  Leatherface plowed into the side of the 4 X 4. The front end of the BMW crumpled. The hood bent and the grill smashed to pieces. Chunks of busted headlights and other parts spread across the st
reet.

  The BMW came to a rolling stop. Smoke vented from the engine.

  Sarah corrected her course and continued down the street, leaving Leatherface and the rest of the madness behind her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  RUSSELL

  The cab had fallen silent. Only the hum of the tires rolling over the road and the crackling of the radio remained.

  Clyde worked the dial of the radio, twisting the black knob in hopes of finding a functional radio station or emergency broadcast signal. White noise hissed. Clyde sighed, then switched it off.

  “I’d hoped we’d be able to pick up something since we’re getting closer to the city,” he said, a bit deflated. “I’d like to know what we’re walking into before arriving in Philly.”

  Russell browsed through the pictures on his phone and the text messages that his estranged wife, Sarah, and he had exchanged. The flood of good and bad memories stole his attention, leaving Clyde’s statement to fall on deaf ears.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Clyde asked, staring at Russell, then down at the phone. “You look like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders.”

  “Just passing the time is all.” Russell swiped his thumb across the cracked screen.

  A picture of Sarah appeared. Russell frowned from the sadness weighing on him. He swiped to the next photo of Sarah, their deceased daughter, Jess, and him standing in front of a Christmas tree wearing tacky green and red holiday sweaters. They all had big, bright smiles and looked happy. Russell missed and longed for those happy memories.

  “Wife and kid?” Clyde asked, shifting his attention from the road ahead back to the phone.

  “Yeah.” Russell nodded, turned the phone toward Clyde, then pointed at the screen. “This was taken about three years ago, I think, at a Christmas party we went to. I hated that sweater, but the girls thought it would be cute if we all dressed alike.”

  Clyde studied the picture for a moment, then cracked a warm smile. “You don’t seem to mind from that smile you have in the picture.”

  Russell shrugged. “One does what one must when the wife and kid ask you to do or wear something you’re not fond of.”

  “They’ve trained you well from the sounds of it,” Clyde replied, smirking.

  “They had me wrapped around their fingers. No question about that.” Russell gazed at the picture of his once happy life.

  “I imagine you’re ready to get back to them, aren’t you?” Clyde asked.

  Russell swiped to the next photo, then shut his phone off a second later. He set it in his lap, pressed his elbow to the door with his knuckles resting against his mouth, and stared out of the window. His mind drifted back a year to when their daughter, Jess, had been murdered during the home invasion that tore his family apart and strained his relationship with Sarah.

  “Did I say something to offend or upset you?” Clyde asked, his warm smile gone.

  “No, you didn’t.” Russell took in a deep breath and released it slowly. He watched the trees lining the far side of the road flash by in a blur of green and brown. A bird hovered above the canopy, then darted up into the cloudy sky. “The past is hard to look at sometimes is all. Especially when things are bleak and dire.”

  “I got you, but you’ll see them soon enough,” Clyde said, offering a bit of reassurance to a situation he knew nothing about.

  Russell contemplated responding with a snide remark, but held his tongue. Insulting or snapping at Clyde for an ignorant statement he had no knowledge of would be in poor form. Clyde didn’t deserve that. “Yeah. Soon enough.”

  Cathy stirred in the backseat, the crunching of the leather sounding under her. A groan broke from her mouth.

  Max lifted his head from her shin and yawned. He licked around his maw and looked at Russell with sleepy eyes.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living,” Russell said, turning in the seat to look at Cathy.

  “Thanks.” She shook her head, jammed her thumb and index finger into both sockets, and rubbed. “I feel like death warmed over. A zombie even.”

  “Not that bad. Could be worse,” Russell replied, glancing at her.

  Cathy pressed her hands to the seat and sat up straight. “That it could be. I didn’t plan on going on this trip with a hole in my leg. It isn’t helping matters any.”

  “True, but you’re still here and mobile,” Russell shot back, glancing at her injured thigh. “All things considered, you’re getting around pretty well, and soon, you’ll have your daughter with you.”

  “Not soon enough.” Cathy placed her forearm on the armrest of the door and rubbed the top of Max’s head. He closed his eyes and relished her loving touch. “How far out are we?”

  “We’re coming up on it right now,” Clyde answered, pointing out of the windshield.

  Cathy leaned toward Max and craned her neck.

  Russell faced forward in his seat.

  The skyline of Philadelphia was thick with haze and smoke. No fires could be seen, but the amount of smoke in the air around the city of brotherly love didn’t ease anyone’s nerves.

  “That doesn’t look good,” Clyde said, pointing to the smoky horizon. “I wonder what all has happened? This is the first big city I’ve seen since the grid went down.”

  Russell gulped, wondering if Boston’s skyline looked just as bleak and if Sarah was safe, but voicing any of his worries would only elevate Cathy’s anxiety. “It could be like that for a number of reasons. Let’s just focus on finding Amber. That’s why we’re here.”

  Clyde glanced at Russell, then pointed at the smoke with his wrist resting on the top of the steering wheel. “With that much smoke clouding the skyline, there has to be a number of buildings or what not burning down there.”

  Russell cleared his throat, then nodded toward Cathy. “It’ll be fine. We’re not worried about the smoke and what’s happening. Just her daughter.”

  Cathy pulled her phone from the pocket of her jeans, and thumbed the screen. “Damn it.”

  “She’s okay. I bet she’s hunkered down in her place as we speak,” Russell said, trying to calm her. “We’re close and will be there soon.”

  “It’s frustrating seeing how the city looks from here and not being able to reach her.” Cathy dropped the phone to her lap, then rubbed her face. “I just feel so helpless right now. I’ve been worried about her since the power went out, and now, seeing this, it hasn’t helped my nerves. She’s the only family I’ve got left and–”

  “I know, but she’ll be fine,” Russell said in a soft and reassuring tone. “From the way you’ve spoken about her, she’ll be smart about things and will be safe. I promise.”

  Cathy’s eyes grew shiny. She looked away, then pressed her index finger to her lips, fighting to keep the flood of tears from breaking through and streaming down her face.

  Russell reached over the seat, took her hand, squeezed, and gave a warm smile.

  “Where am I heading?” Clyde asked, entering the outskirts of the city. “Traffic may be an issue with the power being down. Stoplights and such won’t be working, so we might want to try and avoid any such areas if we can.”

  “The Stratford Apartments,” Cathy answered, her voice low and thick with worry. “I’m not sure what the best way there will be that won’t involve much traffic. It’s downtown, so it could be rough regardless of the way we go.”

  Clyde looked to the rearview mirror, then asked, “Where downtown is it located?”

  Cathy ran her fingers under both eyes. “It’s off Davis Boulevard.”

  “Got it. I’ll see what I can do,” Clyde replied, nodding. “It’s been some time since I’ve been to Philly, but we’ll get there soon.”

  “Need me to navigate or anything?” Russell asked, looking at Clyde then the interstate ahead. More of the large buildings came into view along with a bit of traffic stuck on the road.

  Clyde skirted past the sedans and trucks that appeared to have suffered break-ins from the busted side windows and glass sprinkled over the pavement near some of the vehicles.

  “Might have the both of you keep an eye out for any trouble. I’d like to avoid it if at all possible.” Clyde jerked the steering wheel toward the off ramp coming up. “Six eyes are better than two.”