Powerless World: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (Survive the Fall Book 1)

by Derek Shupert

  Russell pointed to the hallway. “We should fall back now while we can. Load up in the Explorer and hall ass to town. With the phones dead, we can’t call this in, and there could be more waiting out there.”

  Thomas stared at his home with a frown that twisted to an angry scowl in a blink. “As much as I don’t want to tuck tail and leave, he’s right. We need to get out of here while we can. We’ll deal with that dirtbag and his hoodlums soon enough.”

  Gunfire erupted from outside of the cabin. Multiple reports sounded off at once. The rounds pelted the log cabin without pause.

  Cathy slammed the door shut and took cover behind the wall. She stooped down and huddled next to the entrance as Max sat prone on his stomach at her feet.

  Both Thomas and Russell hit the floor as round after round tore through the cabin. They covered their heads and stayed low while the hailstorm of gunfire hammered the house.

  Glass shattered.

  Wood splintered.

  The stuffing from the furniture fluttered in the air as the fabric was torn open.

  “Damn sons of bitches,” Thomas raged. “This is my house, damn it.”

  He scrambled to get to his feet as he mumbled a slew of obscenities through pursed lips.

  “Stay down,” Russell demanded as he grabbed at Thomas’s arm.

  Thomas jerked his arm free of Russell’s hand and stormed across the living room with his rifle fixed in his grasp.

  Cathy waved Thomas off, shouting at him to take cover, but he didn’t listen.

  A stray round busted through the front door and caught him in the arm. The impact turned him sideways and sent him stumbling.

  “Thomas,” Cathy shouted.

  The rifle fell from his hands as he crashed into the wall that sectioned off the other room. He palmed the wound and grumbled in pain through clenched teeth as he crumbled to the floor.

  Cathy darted to his side in a flash.

  Russell scrambled off the floor and scurried to the injured old man.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Cathy scolded. “You could’ve been killed.”

  Thomas removed his hand from his upper bicep. It looked like the bullet had caught the outside edge of the muscle. “I’m fine. I think it only grazed me.”

  “Doesn’t matter, you crazy coot. You’re lucky it didn’t hit someplace vital,” Cathy barked.

  The gunfire waned.

  Silence fell over the cabin as they knelt next to Thomas.

  “Where are the keys?” Russell asked.

  Thomas rolled to his side, then pointed to his coat. “In my pocket here.”

  Footfalls creaked over the porch as Russell dug his hand into the pocket of Thomas’s coat. He fished out the keys as the shadow of a figure loomed in front of the window.

  Cathy spun toward the entrance and shouldered her weapon. She squeezed the trigger as the doorknob spun.

  Fire spat from the muzzle. A white flash glared in Russell’s eyes as the report hammered his head.

  The round punched through the door with ease. A dense thud hit the planks of wood outside, followed by a howl.

  “Let’s go,” Russell ordered.

  Cathy locked the door, then retrieved her bag from the floor.

  Russell helped Thomas to his feet. “You good?”

  He tilted his head as blood trickled out from around his fingers. “Yeah. Just hurts like a son of a bitch.”

  Cathy scooped up Thomas’s rifle and darted past them without breaking her stride. Max stayed on her six as they barreled down the hallway toward the laundry room.

  Russell motioned for Thomas to get going. “Go. Get in the Explorer.”

  Thomas staggered past Russell as more boards from the porch gave their warning. Through the windows, Russell spotted movement. Figures peered inside through the busted glass, trying to gauge the situation.

  He reached down and grabbed the straps of the rucksack as he backed away. The pistol trained at the entrance, then to the windows on either side of the door.

  The doorknob shuddered.

  Russell gulped as he drifted back down the hallway. He peered over his shoulder and watched as Thomas vanished around the corner of the laundry room.

  Loud voices boomed from beyond the porch. Angered and enraged, they grew louder.

  The door shuddered under the weight of something heavy slamming into it. Russell didn’t fire the pistol as he back peddled past the kitchen.

  Two more strikes and the door gave way. The jamb splintered and cracked. The door smashed into the wall. Any glass that remained within the window shattered and littered the floor.

  A large, burly man stomped his way inside the house with a shotgun clutched in his bear-sized hands. Beady eyes scanned over the cabin from under the black beanie on his round head. He spotted Russell down the hall and trained the barrel in his direction.

  “They’re fleeing out the side of the house,” he shouted.

  Russell fired at the burly man’s legs. Two rounds popped off, one right after the other. Each found their mark in his knee cap and upper thigh.

  “Aww,” he yelled in agony as he stumbled across the floor. His shotgun fired at the ceiling. His legs gave out, and he hit face first.

  Another intruder rushed into the cabin with his pistol drawn. His identity was concealed by the skull face shield he wore.

  Russell stepped inside the laundry room as the intruder opened fire. Bullets whizzed past the doorway like a swarm of angry wasps.

  Cathy crouched next to the Explorer and returned fire. “Come on, Russell, Move it.”

  Russell stumbled out of the laundry room and into the car port.

  She stood up and moved around the rear of the SUV with her rifle shouldered. A head poked out from the side of the cabin and the man returned fire.

  Russell ducked and wrenched the driver’s side door open. He crammed the rucksack in the back seat with Thomas. Both dogs were in the far seat behind him, barking and growling at the assailants.

  Cathy hopped inside and slammed the door.

  Russell scaled the off-road beast and settled into the rich leather seat.

  “How are you doing back there?” Cathy looked at the backseat where Thomas was slouched.

  The palm of his hand pressed against the gunshot. “I’m good.”

  Skull-mask materialized from the hallway with his weapon trained at the Explorer.

  Russell fired, sending the goon scurrying back to the hallway for cover.

  “I hope you can drive good,” Cathy grumbled as she checked her sideview mirror.

  “Yeah. I got this.” Russell fired up the Explorer. The engine grumbled to life. He shifted into reverse and punched the gas.

  Tires squealed as the hulking beast barreled out of the car port. Russell tossed his arm over Cathy’s seat. He peered to the back window, trying to see around the dogs that blocked his view.

  A figure dashed from the corner of the house and stepped in front of the SUV. The man fired round after round at the Explorer. Russell hit the brakes as the window cracked.

  The rear of the vehicle slammed into the armed gunman, knocking him hard to the ground.

  Skull-mask emerged from the cabin and opened fire. The incoming rounds punched through the tempered glass windows.

  “Son of a–” Russell shouted as both he and Cathy ducked.

  He worked the brake and shifted the Explorer into drive. He torqued the steering wheel clockwise. His foot pressed the gas pedal to the floor. Chunks of rock fired from under the spinning tires like a hailstorm of bullets.

  “Go, go,” Cathy urged.

  The SUV raced up the rock driveway toward the main road. Russell kept both hands on the steering wheel as he checked the sideview mirror.

  Skull-mask rushed to his fallen man’s aid. He pointed at the Explorer, then yelled at the house.

  “When you hit the road, hook a right, and watch out,” Cathy shouted.

  An older model red Chevy Dually pulled into the driveway, blocking the
ir escape. Russell spun the steering wheel, sending the steel beast barreling through the grass.

  The front end of the Explorer dumped into the ditch that lined the edge of the road. The large, thick-treaded tires ate the dirt and scaled the embankment with ease. The SUV bulldozed through the bushes and small shrubs that lined the road.

  Russell kept his foot mashed to the floorboard as the tires found the main road. The Explorer gained speed on the smooth, even blacktop.

  The Dually was in pursuit and gaining fast. The rusted grill and bumper drew closer to the rear of the Explorer.

  “How far is the town?” Russell asked through panted breath.

  His heart hammered his ribs. Beads of sweat poured from his scalp and raced down his flushed face. The back of his hand brushed the nervousness away as he concentrated on the winding road.

  “Maybe four or five miles. Don’t let up on the gas,” Cathy fired back.

  The Dually nudged the Explorer which sent the SUV swerving from side to side on the narrow, one-lane road. Russell turned the steering wheel, trying to correct their course.

  The tires ripped through the dirt on the side of the road that dropped off in a steep valley filled with trees.

  Russell straightened the Explorer as the Dually darted into the other lane. Both vehicles ran neck and neck through blinding curves and winding roads. The thought of an oncoming car riddled Russell with fear, but he remained in control.

  “These people are insane.” Russell glanced through the window at the masked men in the large truck.

  The driver jerked the wheel, sending the 6,000 plus pound behemoth crashing into them. Tortured metal groaned as both vehicles ground against each other.

  “They’re trying to run us off the road,” Cathy shouted.

  The Dually pulled away and readied for another strike. Russell had to act fast. He wasn’t sure they could withstand another blow.

  An idea gelled in his brain. Something he had only seen in the movies. He was unsure if it would work, but he had to try. “Everyone, hold on.”

  “Why?” Cathy countered.

  “You’ll see.”

  A sharp curve which was coming up fast. The truck went wide, then darted across the road. Russell punched the brake.

  Cathy palmed the dash as they were thrown forward. The tires squealed and stopped on a dime. The Dually rubbed the front of the Explorer and kept going.

  The truck dumped over the side of the road and vanished from sight.

  Russell placed the SUV into park, threw open the door, and jumped down to the asphalt. He raced around the front of the Explorer to the side of the road.

  The Dually had obliterated a swath of trees. Its frame was a contorted mess. Smoke plumed from the engine. He couldn’t see any movement within the wreckage.

  Cathy hammered the side of the passenger door.

  Russell backed away from the edge of the road and made for the driver’s side. He climbed into the SUV and plopped down in the seat.

  “Well?” Cathy inquired.

  He slammed the door, then put the Explorer into drive. The weight of knowing that those men probably died weighed heavy on his mind, but he had to stay focused. He shook his head, then said, “Looks like we’re in the clear, for now, at least.”

  Cathy nodded. “Good. Get us to the sheriff’s station, now.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  SARAH

  The goons outside the building grew impatient. They hammered the glass door without pause. It rattled inside the jamb.

  “Allen, stop dicking around. I know you’re in there. You weren’t at your place, and this shithole is the only other dump you’d come to.”

  Rick scoured the shelves under the counter for his keys. He fished through the file trays and other paperwork to no avail. “Allen normally keeps the keys with the paperwork in packets once the repairs had been finished. He stores them below the register.”

  Sarah kept a watchful eye on the door as Rick grew impatient.

  “Damn it.” he growled. “I can’t see a thing down here?”

  Their phones were kept off. The light from the screens would only give them away to the goons outside.

  “Where else could he have kept them?” Sarah asked.

  Rick shrugged. “I have no clue.”

  “We better find them fast. They’re losing their patience out there.” Sarah stood up near the cash register, making sure to stay hidden behind it. The shadows from the men had vanished from the wall behind her. She peered over the counter and to the side of the register.

  The henchmen were nowhere to be seen. Their sedan was still out front, though. Where did they go?

  “He may have left the keys out in the shop. If we can’t find them, I’ll just hotwire the damn thing.” Rick stepped around the dead body and squeezed past Sarah.

  She kept an eye out for the henchmen as Rick cracked open the door. He slipped through, then waved for her to follow.

  Sarah backed through the door as a shadow washed over the wall from the entrance. She pulled the door to and moved away.

  Blinding darkness filled the garage. The smell of oil and rubber permeated the air. Sarah squinted, trying to pierce the blackness that blanketed the shop. Minus the few rays of light that bled through the small openings within the film-covered windows and along the rails of the roll up door helped some in navigating the dark garage.

  “My car is in the second stall,” he whispered. “Stay close and be quiet.”

  “Go check and see if the keys are in your car,” Sarah said. “I’m going to look around here for a moment to see if I can find anything. They’ve got to be here somewhere.”

  Rick looked to the bay doors, then rubbed his chin. “All right. Just hurry up.”

  The roll up doors rattled. They lifted off the ground a scant inch, allowing more light in to battle the darkness.

  Bickering voices loomed from outside. Shadows could be seen on the ground below the metal door.

  It dropped, severing the light. From the agitated quarrel of the henchmen, Sarah feared they would breach the office soon. They had to move fast.

  Rick quickly navigated the shop as Sarah scavenged for the keys. It would’ve been easier, and faster, if she could’ve used the flashlight on her phone, but doing so would’ve only drawn attention.

  A loud clanging noise filled the garage, followed by Rick cussing under his breath. He had run into a chest that sent tools clattering off the cement.

  “There’s someone in there,” a deep baritone voice boomed from outside the stall.

  “Christ. Come on,” Rick urged as he ran for his car.

  Fists pounded the stall door. It lifted off the ground an inch or two. Gunshots fired from the office, followed by the shattering of glass.

  Sarah flinched as she looked about the garage. They were surrounded. The bay doors continued to roll up as footfalls from the main office hammered her ears.

  A light manifested from the interior of the car, illuminating Rick as he slipped inside the driver’s seat. They weren’t going to be able to pull away before the men got to them. She had no desire to fight the strangers who were invading the shop, but she wasn’t going to allow them to steal her life, or Rick’s.

  She pulled the Glock from her waistband and trained it at the bay door. Her finger squeezed the trigger without any hesitation.

  The Glock barked a harsh report within the garage. The single round struck the bicep of the man lifting the bay door up. He let go of the sheet metal bottom and palmed his arm. He scurried for cover and vanished from her sight.

  “What the hell was that?” Rick shouted as he got out of the car with his Glock in hand. Light from outside flooded into the garage as he turned to the opened bay door.

  “Just worry about the car,” Sarah shouted back.

  He hesitated for a moment, staring outside before he slipped back inside his car.

  Sarah grabbed the doorknob of the door that led into the office and cracked it open. Her back pressed
to the wall as she tilted her head to the side while still keeping a vigilant eye on the open bay door. “I don’t know who you are, but if you come any closer, I will shoot you dead. That I can promise you.”

  The crunching of glass filled her ears as a figure raced for the door. Sarah checked the bay door, but didn’t spot any movement there either.

  “You’re going to regret doing this,” an angered voice called out. “Tell Allen he’s a dead man, and so are you.”

  The slamming of car doors played from outside of the mechanic’s shop. Sarah made her way through the garage to the open bay door. Her shoulder pressed to the cinderblock wall as she scooted to the edge.

  An engine revved, followed by squealing tires. A car tore past the open bay and made for the street.

  Sarah breathed a sigh of relief, then lowered the pistol. Oddly enough, her hands were completely still. She was glad the men had retreated and decided not to test her resolve. They would have found out how formidable she could have been.

  Rick’s car found new life. The engine coughed, but started just the same. He hopped out with the Glock trained ahead of him as he made his way toward her. He craned his neck and peered to the front of the garage.

  “So the keys were inside?” Sarah asked.

  “Nope. Had to hotwire the damn thing.” Rick stared a bit longer before looking back to her. “Are you ok?”

  Sarah nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.”

  Rick lowered the Glock to his side. “That was brave what you did. Foolish, but brave. They could’ve killed you.”

  “They didn’t, though, and we’re all right. I had to do something to buy us some time. They didn’t sound like they just wanted to chat,” she countered.

  “True, but it was still brazen.”

  Sarah changed the subject. “Are we good to get out of here.”

  Rick nodded, then glanced at his car. “Yeah.”

  He turned and headed for the driver’s side as Sarah walked past the rear of the vehicle.

  Perhaps her actions were rash, but Sarah didn’t see any other options other than what she did. Fight or die. It was as simple as that.