Brink of Extinction | Book 2 | Stay Alive

by Shupert, Derek

  “There could be a house or something close by that she came from,” I said, looking through the front entrance of the barn, then toward the rear of the building. “Might be worth looking into. I planned on staying in here to ride out this storm, but if there’s a house close by, then that will be better. Plus, they may have a vehicle or something.”

  Anna stood and faced me. She pointed at the road. “You know, that’s a big if, right? There’s no telling how far we’d need to walk before running into something. I’m not saying we shouldn’t try, but we need to take a moment, warm up if we can, and think this through instead of just racing out there in falling ash. That wouldn’t be smart.”

  I sighed. “I know that. I’m not saying that at all. There could just be a home, cabin, anything out there that perhaps we can get some answers or something.”

  The dog stayed at Anna’s side, looking at me with her ears on end. I couldn’t tell if the elevated voices put the canine on edge or what.

  Anna pressed her palms together. “Listen. We’ll head out here in a bit. Taking a few minutes to gather our thoughts and strategize isn’t the worst thing to do right now.”

  “All right. You’re right,” I said, lifting my hands in the air. “I just need to get back to my family. My wife and son need me.”

  “They need you alive. Not dead,” Anna shot back, shrugging her shoulders.

  Good point.

  I skimmed over the ground inside the barn, searching for wood or anything else we could use, but found nothing.

  The wind changed course, blowing through the large-crumbling doors pointed at the road. Thunder boomed—angry and loud.

  The canine flinched, drawing close to Anna’s leg.

  “I guess I’ll check outside around the barn and see what I can find,” I said.

  Anna rubbed the dog’s head. “I’ll see if I can get a pit dug out, so we can get a fire going or something.”

  “Sounds good. Be right back.” I turned and walked toward the entrance, leaving Anna and her new-found friend to the bleakness of the barn. I paused shy of the opening, pulling my makeshift mask over my mouth and nose.

  The ash whipped about in the wind, growing more intense. I tilted my head, then lifted my hand to shield my face from the growing tumult. I worked my way down the side of the building, staring at the ground for anything of use. A blanket of soot coated the grass, concealing whatever might lurk underneath.

  My foot ran through the weeds, probing for something solid. I hit the corner of the barn, then made my way down the other side.

  The bite of the wind and cold nipped at my arms, and tore through the gashes in my shirt. I wrapped one arm across my waist while the other shielded my face.

  I walked the length of the barn, peering inside the gaping holes in the walls along the way. Anna’s shadowy figure moved through the dimness.

  I skirted the corner, then skimmed over the wide-open area between the barn and the tree line that sat a good thirty to forty feet away.

  A vast amount of nothing filled the area. I sifted through the soot-covered grass and weeds, finding nothing more than pieces of rotted wood that had been broken off from the barn. It broke apart in my hand with little effort.

  Great.

  I threw the useless wood to the ground, then peered over at the tree line. If the far side of the barn didn’t produce anything useful, I’d make a trip back to the trees to see what I could come up with.

  Ash gathered on the top of my head and face. The slight sting increased in my nose and eyes. I got back on the move and headed to the far side of the barn.

  I thumbed through the grass, finding more rotted planks of wood submerged in the ash. My chin touched the top of my chest as I rubbed my hands together. I blew into my palms and made my way to the front of the barn, checking the last remaining side with the hopes of finding something we could use.

  A flash of light caught my eye from the road. I blinked away the soot gathering on my lashes. A vehicle drove past the barn, heading in the direction we walked.

  I waved my arm, trying to flag it down. The vehicle continued on, not braking or slowing. I ran toward the corner of the barn while keeping an eye on the black SUV.

  It drove a bit farther, passing by trees that lined the paved road, then slowed. The brake lights flashed. It turned and cut through more trees, heading in the direction of the tree line that ran the length behind the barn and off into the distance.

  I fumbled my way inside the barn, panting and pointing at the road.

  Anna lurked in the far corner. Her tiny frame melded with the dimness as did the German shepherd’s dark coat.

  “Did you find anything out there we can use?” she asked, digging at the ground from her knees.

  The German shepherd growled in my direction as I approached the two of them. “I spotted an SUV traveling down the road. It turned off not too far from here.”

  Anna paused, and looked my way. “Really?”

  “Yeah. There has to be some sort of house, cabin, or whatever, close to us then, right?”

  “I’d assumed so,” Anna answered with a shrug.

  “I say we track it down and see. I didn’t find anything out there except for rotted wood anyway.” I pointed at the trees set off from the barn. “Those trees in the back are the only thing I found that we could maybe use.”

  Anna stood, rubbing her wounded arm. She wiped the dirt from the knees of her pants. “Let’s go check it out and see what we find.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  CORY

  Thunder shook the rafters. Wind punished the softened-wood walls. A clapping sounded from the corner of the barn roof above our heads.

  I flinched, ducked, then flitted my gaze to the ceiling. A small piece of the roof’s covering flapped in the wind, then broke off, allowing more gray ash to fall inside the barn.

  “Guess it’s a good thing we’re leaving,” Anna said as soot whipped in through the additional slot in the roof.

  “If this keeps up, this building won’t last too long.” I backed toward the entrance.

  “How far away did you say you spotted that vehicle?” Anna asked, walking to the front of the barn with the canine at her side.

  “Not that far. If we move at a good clip, we should be able to track it down fast,” I replied. “You’re good to go, right?”

  Anna nodded. “Yeah. I’m good to go.”

  The canine slowed as we neared the edge of the barn. Her head lowered, attention fixed to the falling ash beyond the protective walls and roof that shielded us from the soot. She lifted her nose skyward, sniffed the air, then backed away.

  I kept moving.

  Anna stopped, then glanced at the timid German shepherd. “Hold on.”

  I stopped, then peered over my shoulder at her. “What are you doing? We don’t have time for this. Leave the dog and come on. It’ll be fine here in this barn.”

  “I don’t want to leave Shadow,” Anna replied, petting the top of the canine’s head.

  “Shadow?” I replied.

  “Yeah,” Anna answered. “I don’t much like calling her it or dog. She needed a name so I gave her one. Plus, her dark coat helps her blend in with the darkness.”

  I pointed at Shadow. “I didn’t realize we were taking a dog with us.”

  Anna nodded toward her sidekick. “German shepherds are a protective breed and smart. We’d be wise to bring her along. I’ve worked with them in the past and they are amazing dogs.”

  “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this or not, but she doesn’t seem too keen on leaving, or being around me for that matter,” I shot back.

  Shadow looked at the outside world, then drew closer to Anna.

  I ran my hand over my face, then sighed.

  “Go and we’ll catch up.” Anna said, nodding in the direction of the SUV.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. We’ll find our way and won’t be too far behind you. I’m just going to give her a minute.” Anna rubbed the canine’s head
, trying to ease her apprehension.

  I shook my head. “All right. Don’t take too long.”

  “I won’t. We’ll catch up to you.”

  Shadow looked up to me, then licked at the tips of Anna’s fingers.

  I dipped out of the barn and hoofed it across the field. The rucksack on my back jostled about, shifting up and down with every hard step I made.

  The vehicle offered ample incentive to battle the ash, the dropping temperature, and the soreness that stabbed at both knees and my side.

  The blades of grass slapped against my pant legs. The makeshift mask covering my nose and mouth made it cumbersome to breathe.

  The stinging in my eyes and nose burned slow and steady, like the tip of a cigarette being extinguished in both. I coughed hard, then blinked, erasing the watery sheen that coated each eye.

  I looked past the tree line for the SUV or a house for that matter, but found nothing more than soot and darkness within the woods.

  My foot dropped. I fell forward. The ground rushed up. I hit hard and skidded over the grass, my face buried in the ash.

  I pushed off the ground and stood. I shook my head, wiped my face clean, then continued on. My ankle radiated pain, adding to the rest of the torment that punished my body. I limped along, gritting my teeth as I trudged through the remainder of the field at what felt like a snail’s pace, then through bushes and trees.

  A dirt road materialized on the other side. Tire tracks smooshed bits of grass that grew along the road. I looked in the direction of the main street, then back toward the barn. This had to be the path they came down.

  Anna and Shadow were still MIA. I wished they’d hurry up.

  I looked at the tire tracks, following the road that slithered through the remainder of the field and into the dimness of the trees.

  I limped along the matted grass, tracking the vehicle. Darkness lurked in the canopy. The ash lessened under the covering, giving me a reprieve from the toxic mess.

  The surrounding woods showed no signs of life. Birds, squirrels, or any other creatures remained silent and out of sight.

  The wind attacked the canopy overhead, whipping the ash-covered branches and leaves about in a violent manner.

  I followed the tire tracks out of the trees and discovered the SUV and a brown truck parked beside a large, two-story log home. I worked my way up the drive toward the home with my arm shielding my face.

  The windows facing me sat dark and void of any lights. I spotted no movement around the vehicles or the porch of the home.

  Where are we and who are these people?

  My stomach twisted in knots the closer I got. An unsettling feeling crawled the length of my spine. Having worked for many unscrupulous thugs and mob bosses over my life, I’d visited many remote areas to conduct interrogations and other brutal acts. The dwelling showed no signs of such things happening, but the feeling remained.

  I approached the home with caution and took cover on the far side of the black SUV. I peered around the back end of the vehicle and studied the home.

  A light flickered through the window on the bottom floor. Beams of yellow light shot through the glass toward the SUV. I ducked, then leaned away from the back end of the vehicle.

  I turned on my heels and moved toward the front passenger side door. I pressed my nose against the window and placed my hands around my face–shielding my eyes from the falling ash.

  The tinted windows made it hard to see inside the vehicle. My hand slid down the window, then to the door handle, testing to see if it opened.

  A muffled gunshot sounded from inside.

  My heart jumped into my throat. I froze, wrenched my hand away, then ducked below the window. After a few seconds, I swallowed my heart back down, stood, then peered over the bottom of the window.

  My mind raced, piecing together what happened inside the home. More lights flickered into existence, shooting through the windows.

  I peered at the dangling keys, not wanting to leave the vehicle that sat ripe for the picking.

  A shadowy figure moved beyond the corner of the dwelling, snaring my attention. They took a few steps past the home, then stopped shy of the front end of the brown truck.

  A green-camo jacket and hood concealed the man’s face. A shotgun draped over his shoulder. He tilted his head forward, then brought his hands up to the hood.

  A flicker of light flashed, illuminating his wiry beard and dingy face for a brief second. He shook the lighter in his hand, then tried again.

  I peered down the winding trail the vehicles carved out of the ground for Anna or Shadow, but didn’t spot them.

  Shit.

  Green Camo stepped in front of the driver’s side door of the truck, then peered through the window. I watched from the passenger side of the SUV, stooped down and out of his purview.

  He slammed his fist against the side of the vehicle, walked the length of the truck, then continued on to the driver’s side of the SUV. The interior light came on.

  I kept low with my back to the front wheel well. Ash pelted my face. I battled watery eyes that distorted my vision. I blinked, then ran the back of my hand across both sockets to clear out the haze.

  The door slammed shut, and the SUV shuddered. I dropped my hands to my sides, and looked to the front end of the SUV, then to the rear.

  What if he’s on the move?

  I turned and laid prone on my stomach, peering under the SUV. A pair of boots stood still, facing the front of the home.

  A muffled scream came from the dwelling again.

  Not your problem. Just take the SUV and go, I thought.

  I got to my feet, moved around the fender of the vehicle, and past the engine toward the driver’s side. Over the soot-covered hood, I watched Green Camo who had his back to me.

  He shifted his weight against the door, then laid his head back. Thin trails of smoke lifted above his head in the low light. The wind blew it away.

  I paused for a moment, then slipped down the driver’s side. I stalked him from behind. My fingers twitched, anxious to take him down.

  A mask of some sort bounced off his hip as the wind moved it about. He adjusted the strap attached to his shotgun, then lowered his arm.

  The bite of the cool air and wind no longer affected me. The surge of adrenaline pumping through my body warmed me from head to toe.

  I checked the windows alongside the house for anyone peering outside, but spotted no one within the blackness. I stood, wrapped my arm under the man’s neck, and pulled back.

  His arms flailed about. The back of his hand slapped the driver’s side window.

  I squeezed tighter and pulled him to the ground. His legs kicked, and his heels dug into the dirt. He clawed at my arm and head, fighting to break the hold. I tilted my head back, out of his reach.

  Green Camo thrashed his body a few seconds longer before going limp in my arms. I dragged his lifeless body along the ground, past the vehicles. I dumped him on the far side between the bed of the brown truck and the front end of the SUV, away from anyone looking out the windows.

  I stripped him of the shotgun, his coat, and mask in a flash. His body laid face down in the grass and soot. I slipped on the warm coat, then dug my hands into his pockets, searching for keys to the brown truck or SUV, but came up empty. I stood, then headed for the driver’s door of the SUV. I flung the door open and searched the interior to no avail.

  Shit. The keys must be inside somewhere.

  The faint screams and yells tore me away from the vehicle. I shut the door, put the mask on, then pulled the hood of the coat over my head.

  I secured the shotgun over my shoulder, then stared at the house. Our way out of this hell and back to my family resided somewhere in that house, and I was going to find it, one way or another.

  CHAPTER TEN

  CORY

  Desperate times called for desperate measures.

  I turned and made for the rear of the house, walking with a slight limp. The hood swallowed my h
ead, the mask concealing my face. The lining sucked against my skin. The smell of rubber and cigarette smoke assaulted my nose, but it protected me from the falling ash.

  A man materialized from the corner of the home. He pulled the hood of his brown coat over his head, then turned my way. The black grip of the piece he carried poked out just above his waistband and between his unzipped coat.

  I grabbed the strap of the shotgun a hair tighter and continued on.

  He held his hand up, then pointed at the bed of the brown truck. “Hey, give me a hand, will ya? We need to get the tarp out of here and take it inside.” He leaned against the side, stood on the tips of his toes, then rifled through the junk in the back of the truck.

  I punched him in the side of the ribs. His legs buckled and he slumped over the bed. He turned and stumbled backward, reaching for the piece tucked in his waistband.

  “What the hell are–”

  I decked him square in the face. He lost his footing and hit the corner of the cab. His body bounced off the truck and fell to the ground. He rolled to his back, groaning and palming his face. I towered over him, then punched him again.

  The back of his skull smacked the ground. His hand moved away from the piece and fell to his side. I felt his pant pockets for any keys, but found none.

  Damn it.

  I pulled the pistol from his jeans, then ejected the mag—fully stocked. I slapped it back into the well and continued on to the rear of the house.

  My fingers repositioned over the grip. I paused at the blind corner for a second, then poked my head out. The screen door hung open, the wind pressing it against the wall. The porch had no visible threats lurking in the low light of the open space.

  I brought the piece to bear and walked up the steps. Each plank sounded a subtle warning. I swept the porch, then moved toward the back door of the home.

  I peered through the window molded inside the door. The interior of the building had little to no light, making it hard to see anything. The faint hint of white glowed from down the hall.