Survive The Fall | Book 5 | Fight Back

by Shupert, Derek

  Clyde gave a thumbs up, and turned through the intersection. He navigated the smashed barricades, jerking the steering wheel from side to side, and peering out of the driver’s side window.

  The tires of the Silverado crushed some of the blue-painted boards. The wood snapped from the pressure.

  A Boston Police cruiser had been burnt and shot up near the intersection. Bullet holes punched through the body of the vehicle. The glass of the windshield spiderwebbed from the center outward, making it impossible to see inside the squad car.

  The driver’s-side door hung open. Bloody hand prints pressed to the interior of the door and near the roof, but nobody could be seen inside the vehicle.

  Clyde glanced at Russell with his mouth open and brows raised. “Are you sure we aren’t in some alternate universe where people have lost their damn minds? All of the madness and complete disregard for the law we’ve seen seems like something out of a twilight episode.”

  “I wish that was the case, but it isn’t.” Russell shook his head. “Things have been abysmal for a while, and this powder keg only needed a spark to set it off. The crap economy and just total lack of care and compassion for each other has been brewing for years. The power crashing was the catalyst the world needed to plunge itself into this shitstorm we’re now slogging through.”

  Clyde shook his head. “Either way, I wish this was a bad dream. I’m about tired of it all, and ready to wake up.”

  “You and me both.” Russell leaned forward in the seat and rubbed his chin. He pointed at a large, brick building on the west side of the street. “Tim’s place is up there on the right. You can park next to the curb, or we can take the alley entrance. There are some parking spaces we can use as long as they aren’t occupied. Your call.”

  Clyde shrugged. “I guess we can try the alley first and see. Not sure I want to leave my truck parked next to the curb. Not with all of the damaged cars that we’ve seen. My motto right now is to stay out of sight and out of mind. We seem to find trouble without looking too hard.”

  “Like I said, it’s your call, but I do agree with staying out of sight,” Russell said with a tilt of his head. “I’m not planning on us being here too long. Just long enough to see if Sarah is here. Hopefully, she will be, and that will be the end of that. As for Kinnerk and anyone else involved with him, that’s a different story.”

  “Hopefully, she will be,” Clyde said.

  The truck cruised down the street. Both Russell and Clyde scanned the dark, powerless buildings and abandoned vehicles for any flashlights or shadowy figures waiting for them to pass by.

  Max sat up from the bench seat, and moved to the window behind Russell. He peered out of the glass, and grumbled at each slight noise.

  Clyde peered over his shoulder at the German shepherd. “Every time he does that it makes me think trouble is around the corner.”

  “Could be,” Russell replied. “When he does that, it normally isn’t good. Keep your eyes peeled.”

  “Great.” Clyde made a wide arch around the charred remains of the small, light-blue sports car that sat on four flat tires in the middle of the street. The windows were busted out, and the entire sleek body from front to back had been pummeled and dented all over. He torqued the wheel clockwise and pulled down the alley next to Tim’s place.

  The grumble of the engine echoed down the tight corridor.

  Russell turned and peered out of the back window, then faced forward in his seat. He pointed to the far corner of the building at the open space. “The parking spaces are right there, past the edge of the building.”

  The Silverado splashed through a water puddle as it crept through the opening. Clyde craned his neck, and worked the brake as they inched closer.

  Russell adjusted his hold on the Ruger, watching as the truck drove past the blind corner of the building.

  The half dozen parking spaces near the entrance were void of any vehicles. The building appeared untouched by the bedlam that swept through the street and other buildings nearby as far as he could see in the dark. Though, that could change at any moment.

  “That’s a good sign, I guess,” Clyde said, turning the steering wheel counterclockwise and heading toward one of the open parking spaces.

  “Yeah. I’m glad as well, but we still need to keep our guard up,” Russell said. “The one good thing is that the building doesn’t have too many residents at the moment.”

  “Let’s just hope they’re not trigger happy or packing any heat.” Clyde stopped the truck in a parking space in front of the gunmetal steel door. “They may be on edge with everything going on or there could be looters lurking about. You never know.”

  “Tim never mentioned any of his neighbors having any guns, but he didn’t know them too well,” Russell said. “I’d only been staying with him a short time, and have never personally met any of his neighbors myself. I’d just play on the side of caution and assume any and all are packing some sort of heat or other weapon.”

  Clyde shut the engine off, then removed the keys from the ignition. He shoved them inside his pocket, then fished his flashlight out from his coat.

  Max stuck his head between the seats, panting. He groaned, then licked at the side of Russell’s stubbled cheek.

  Russell reached up and back, scratching under Max’s jaw while looking at the entrance to the building. He felt the canine’s tacky tongue and tepid breath brush against the palm of his hand.

  “What floor is his place on anyway?” Clyde asked, grabbing the handle to his door. “Please say the bottom floor.”

  “Second floor.” Russell lowered his hand from the panting German shepherd.

  Clyde sighed a breath of relief, tugged on the handle, then pushed the door open with his shoulder. He hopped to the ground, and slammed the door shut behind him.

  Max walked to the side of the truck where Clyde stood. He pawed at the window, then barked once.

  Russell opened his door, got out and moved around the bed of the truck.

  Clyde released Max.

  The anxious canine jumped to the pavement, milled about the side of the truck, then skirted the bumper toward Russell who reached out, and patted him on the top of his head. He turned around, sniffed the ground, then darted past Clyde.

  Russell moved closer to the edge of the truck, then to the alleyway. The subtle sounds of discord ringing out in the dismal gray sky made him clutch the Ruger a hair tighter. He didn’t notice any trouble or signs for caution lurking near the buildings, but he couldn’t help but to remain alert and attuned to the surroundings.

  Clyde secured the pistol in the front waistband of his jeans.

  Russell did much the same and covered the piece with the bottom portion of his shirt. He snapped his fingers. “Come, Max.”

  The German shepherd investigated the pavement near the truck a moment longer, then trotted to their side.

  Clyde thumbed the switch to the truck’s alarm in his pocket. The horn honked a loud warning. The headlights flashed white against the red brick of the building.

  Russell took point and advanced on the short concrete staircase to the side entrance of the building. He grabbed the steel railing and scaled the four steps to the elevated platform that ran in front of the building.

  Max flanked him with Clyde following behind.

  Russell retrieved the flashlight from his pocket, then thumbed the button on the top. A narrow beam of light shot from the lens against the door. He grabbed the silver bar fixed to the outside and pulled toward him.

  The hinges squeaked. He pushed the door open, and trained the light at the dark hallway before them. He nodded to the corridor. “We head down this hallway, pass under the stairs, then head back toward the front of the building to the landing. That will take us up to Tim’s place.”

  Clyde bowed his head, then grabbed the outer edge of the door. He peered around the corner with his light shining at the darkness beyond. “After you.”

  Russell advanced through the doorway, and dow
n the long stretch of corridor. Each footfall from his boots echoed in the silence. The jingling of Max’s tags and panted breaths played at his back.

  The steel door hit the jamb with a thump, severing the outside light.

  Max trotted at Russell’s side as the trio moved through the murk of the hallway and past the closed doors along the walls. The light swept from one side of the corridor to the other, then straight ahead at the junction past the staircase.

  The uneasiness in Russell’s gut built. His heart rate spiked a hair as they passed under the stairs. Both hands trembled as he continued worrying about Sarah, and hoped he’d find her soon.

  Russell nudged Max’s side with his knee, directing the canine on where to go. They moved past the side of the stairs toward the landing.

  The absence of light from outside cloaked the entrance to the building in darkness. The subtle hint of the world beyond the glass doors came into view.

  Russell grabbed the railing and proceeded up the steps. He trained his light at the landing ahead of them.

  Max followed his lead, trotting up the stairs with his tail taut. He sniffed at the steps. His nails scrapped off the wood surface.

  The footfalls echoed louder within the building, bouncing off the walls.

  Clyde coughed, then cleared his throat. He grumbled under his breath and turned his head to the side.

  Russell stepped on the landing and swept the hallway that led to Tim’s place and the three other neighbors on the same floor. He listened for any strange or odd sounds.

  The light traced over the walls and past the closed doors. Silence loomed from the dwellings with no hint of movement from inside.

  Russell walked a bit faster, anxious to get to Tim’s place. He shone the flashlight at the door. Each step forward made his pulse spike.

  Max ran ahead and sniffed at the base of the door, then the wooden floor.

  Russell reached for the doorknob and turned it, finding it to be unlocked. He paused and stared at the wood grain of the door, then glanced at Clyde.

  “What’s wrong?” Clyde asked with a raised brow.

  “It’s unlocked,” Russell replied in a whisper. “When Tim and I left, I’m sure he locked the door.”

  Clyde trained his light at the doorknob, then back to Russell. “Does Sarah have a key to his place by chance?”

  Russell shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. I know I never gave her one, and I don’t believe Tim would’ve either. There wouldn’t have been a point. She could’ve gotten inside some other way, though, I guess.”

  “Just to play devil’s advocate, but you’re sure she would come here if in trouble?” Clyde asked in a low voice.

  “She would if she was in trouble,” Russell answered without missing a beat. “She’s friends with Tim as well, and despite our situation, she knows without a doubt, I’d help her with anything she needed.

  Clyde nodded, retrieved his piece from the waistband of his jeans, and held the grip firmly. He peered over his shoulder, and trained his flashlight at the low light of the hallway, then faced forward. “All right. So, what do you want to do?”

  “I’m going inside.” Russell dug the Ruger out. “Sarah could be in there, and just forgot to lock the door behind her or something.”

  “Or someone could’ve broken into Tim’s apartment, and they are in there waiting for him or you to show up.” Clyde shot back in a loud whisper. “I mean, given that you’re surprised that it’s unlocked, it’s not out of the realm of being plausible.”

  Russell looked at Clyde with his fingers wrapped around the doorknob and the Ruger in the air. He nodded at the door. “Either way, I’m going in. You can wait here if you like.”

  Clyde dipped his chin, stared at the floor, then looked back up at him. “I got your back. I just hope I’m wrong.”

  Max stood at Russell’s side with his nose a scant inch away from the door. His ears twitched, gaze focused dead ahead. No ruffs or other subtle warnings sounded from the canine to indicate trouble waited for them on the other side.

  Russell twisted the doorknob. He drew a sharp breath and pushed.

  The door creaked open.

  Max inched forward a bit more, but didn’t rush inside. He tested the air, sniffing with his head lowered to the narrow gap.

  Russell listened for any footfalls or other movement to indicate the presence of a threat. An eerie silence met his ears as he advanced into Tim’s place.

  The gleam from the flashlight swept over the periphery of the open, cavernous floor plan. It moved along the walls and furniture Tim had spread through his large abode.

  Max moved inside, sniffing the polished, cherry wood floor, then looking up. He looked toward the far side of the dwelling, then gave a low ruff.

  Russell trained his flashlight at the blackness of the hallway that led to the bathroom and bedrooms. “You got something, big man?”

  Clyde stepped through the doorway, and skirted past the jamb. He kept his heater pointed at the floor with his finger against the trigger guard. He swept the light over the plush, black leather couch and chair in the middle of the dwelling, then over to the kitchen on the far wall.

  “Did he spot or hear something?” Clyde asked, glancing down at the stiff posture of the canine.

  “Down the hall on the far side there,” Russell said, shining the light at the opening. “I don’t hear or see anything, but he’s fixed on that area.”

  Clyde brushed past the table near the doorway. His leg bumped the edge. It rattled on its four wooden legs, then nudged the wall. He cringed, froze, then glanced to Russell. “Sorry.”

  Russell shook his head, then looked back to the hallway.

  Max kept his focus on the corridor, then inched forward.

  Russell glanced over the condo, searching for any movement and listening for any subtle sounds, but detected nothing.

  The single barks emitting from Max changed to low growls.

  “That sounds like he’s picking up–” Clyde said. Max took off at a gallop across the dwelling.

  “Max, come back here, now.” Russell snapped his fingers twice, but the German shepherd pursued whatever had caught his attention.

  The brown and black fur of the canine rushed through the darkness of the hallway, disappearing beyond the veil of blackness. The scraping of his claws against the wood floor trailed off.

  “That’s not good,” Clyde said, his voice shaken and unsure. “It’s safe to assume there’s someone back there.”

  “Yeah. Maybe. It could be Sarah or nothing at all.” Russell took two steps forward while keeping the light on the hallway.

  “Or it could be someone else,” Clyde shot back. “He wasn’t acting like it was nothing at all.”

  “Just stay cool, and don’t get trigger happy.” Russell moved across the floor past the bar near the kitchen. “Not until we see who is back there. The last thing I want to do is shoot my wife if it is her.”

  Max barked, but it sounded muffled, as if the canine was in an enclosed space.

  Russell and Clyde spread out, advancing across the dwelling toward the opening of the hallway. Both men trained their lights ahead, but kept each piece pointed at the floor.

  “Hello,” Russell said, keeping his gaze locked on the hallway. He no longer thought it was Sarah lurking about—she would’ve answered him, or done something else to let him know she was back there. Though, if something had happened to her, would she have been able to respond? “Whoever is back there, we are armed and will fire if need be, so come out slowly with your hands up.”

  His words of warning fell on deaf ears. Only the muffled barks and scratching of Max remained.

  Clyde made a wide arch around the far side of the couch, then past the leather chair. He peered at the closed door along the wall, stopping shy of the jamb. He whistled at Russell, then nodded at the cracked door near him.

  Russell stopped, craned his neck, and looked at the door that led into Tim’s office. He shrugged, pointed at his eyes,
then trained both fingers at the hallway.

  Clyde tilted his head, then pushed the door open. He leaned against the surface with his light and piece trained at the interior of the space.

  Max continued barking. Each sound from the canine echoed through the hallway and out into the dwelling.

  Russell held a bated breath, keeping his attention on the darkness of the hallway. Each step made his heart thump harder and his pulse spike. Both palms felt wet with the anticipation of who lurked within the backrooms of Tim’s place.

  The flashlight in Russell’s hand trembled. He took a deep breath, and exhaled through his nose while approaching the entrance to the hallway.

  The beam revealed no shadowy figures or other hints as to who resided in the depths of the corridor.

  “Last chance.” Russell pressed his back to the wall next to the corner of the hallway. “Whoever is back there, come out now with your hands up, and you will not be harmed.”

  Clyde pulled the door leading to Tim’s office closed, then worked his way around the wall of the dwelling toward Russell’s position. His light flashed across Russell’s sweaty face as he inched his way to the blind corner.

  Russell toed the edge of the wall. He took a deep breath, turned, and pressed his shoulder to the surface.

  The barrel of the Ruger trained at the darkness. He glanced at Clyde, then nodded.

  Clyde tilted his head and hung back. He lifted his piece and adjusted his hold on the grip while training it at the hallway.

  Russell took a step forward out in front of the hallway.

  Footfalls rushed him from the darkness.

  The beam from his flashlight washed across the black fabric of the man’s shirt and mask. The figure closed the gap in a blink.

  Russell flinched. His finger squeezed the trigger on impulse.

  Fire spat from the muzzle.

  The report hammered his ears. The bullet went wide, missing the black clad figure’s arm and hitting the drywall.

  Russell took a step back as the figure knocked his forearm down with his closed, gloved fist. The Ruger barked another harsh report before dropping from his hand, and hitting the wooden floor.