Copyright
Fight Back
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
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
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Also by Derek Shupert
Also By Derek Shupert
SURVIVE THE FALL SERIES :
POWERLESS WORLD
MADNESS RISING
DARK ROADS
TOTAL COLLAPSE
FIGHT BACK
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
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CHAPTER ONE
SARAH
The pain stabbing Sarah’s side from the gunshot wound she had sustained while fleeing her parents’ house paled in comparison to being at her tormentor’s mercy.
Spencer hovered over Sarah. Tiny drops of red tainted his ghost face mask. He knelt next to her, and peered at the splotch of blood that tainted the fabric of her shirt. He tried to inspect the damage, but couldn’t see past her hand that pressed against the wound.
“Move your hand, and let me see how bad it is,” Spencer said, his voice thick with concern. “I can’t help if you don’t let me.”
Sarah laid flat on her back in the grass next to the Chevelle she had wrecked in her parents’ driveway a few moments earlier. Thin trails of smoke escaped from the crumpled hood of the muscle car.
“I don’t need–or want–your help,” Sarah replied, coughing and clenching her jaw through the waves of pain that sought to steal her breath. “If you want–to help–leave me–alone.”
“You know I can’t do that. You mean too much to me.” Spencer grabbed her forearm, and pulled her hand away. His fingers worked inside the hole in her shirt, and tore it open a bit more. He craned his neck and studied the injury. “Besides, this needs to be dressed and cleaned. It doesn’t look too bad, but we don’t want it getting infected.”
Sarah shoved his hand away from her side, then grimaced from the movement. “I need nothing from you except leaving me be.”
“On the contrary, I’d say you need a lot from me right now.” Spencer grabbed the side of her arm and rolled her over. “Looks like the bullet exited, so that’s good.”
“What are you going to do with me?” Sarah asked, palming her side once more.
Spencer glanced back to her parents’ house, then to the Chevelle. “I’m going to take care of that wound and help you recover, but first, we need to get out of here before more trouble shows up.”
Sarah pressed her hand to the grass and sat up. She gritted her teeth, biting back the searing pain. “How did you find me, anyway?”
“I know pretty much everything about you,” Spencer said, standing up. “So does Kinnerk and Bryce. They have rather in-depth files on you and your family. Including that husband of yours. Well, they did. They’re both dead now.”
“What do you mean–by files?” Sarah asked through strained breath.
Spencer ignored her question, stepped around her, and moved to the driver’s side of the Chevelle. He peered inside the muscle car, then sat down behind the wheel. His foot pumped the gas as he tried to turn the engine over.
The Chevelle gave a pitiful whining noise. Spencer pumped the gas again, and turned the key, but to no avail.
“We’re going to have to hoof it on–” He paused, then peered through the windshield to the highway at the end of her parents’ driveway. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Sarah couldn’t see past the front of the Chevelle, despite craning her neck.
The sound of a vehicle racing toward them caught her attention.
Spencer slipped out of the Chevelle, and pulled the pistol stowed in the waistband of his pants. He stayed low, dipping below the bottoms of the windows. “More trouble. Wait here and stay down. Don’t move.”
The vehicle stopped close by. The tires screeched, and the engine idled.
Spencer turned, and peered through the open driver’s side door. Gunfire sounded off. Bullets punched the steel body of the muscle car, and the windshield shattered. He dropped to the ground, and pressed his back to the side of the vehicle.
Sarah flinched, and covered her head with her free arm. She closed her eyes, unsure of what she should do next.
“Bastards.” Spencer crouched and moved toward the back end of the Chevelle. His gloved hand held the grip of his piece with a tight hold.
“Where are you going?” Sarah asked, raising her voice an octave.
Spencer vanished behind the trunk, keeping low.
Sarah scooted closer to the muscle car, turned, and leaned back against its side. She flinched with each gunshot and every bullet that punished the vehicle. Her mind worked for a way out of the dire situation.
She took a deep, painful breath, rested the back of her head against
the car, and looked to the dismal gray sky. Footfalls moved closer to the Chevelle on the passenger side.
The chatter of men came from the far side. The sharp reports had ceased for the moment.
“Do you see the woman?” one of the men asked in a deep, baritone voice. “I spotted someone inside the car on the driver’s–”
“Watch out,” his partner shouted.
Gunfire rang out from the trunk of the muscle car. The men yelled and returned fire. Sarah dipped her chin and closed her eyes against the tumult raging on the far side of the Chevelle. Two dense thuds hit the ground along the passenger side a second later.
Footfalls hammered the drive toward the rear of the car, heading straight for her. She held a bated breath, waiting to see who emerged.
Spencer raced around the bumper, massaging his shoulder. The pistol pointed at the grass. He held out his hand. “Come on.”
Sarah leaned away from him.
“We don’t have time for this.” Spencer sighed. “More could and probably will show up, so we need to move, now, while we can.”
Sarah looked up at Spencer with unsteady eyes. She had no desire to go anywhere with him. He stalked and tormented her without pause and wouldn’t leave her be, despite telling him as much.
Spencer stowed the pistol in the waistband of his pants, then snatched Sarah by the arm. “I guess we’re going to have to do this the hard way, then.”
“No.” Sarah leaned further away from his gloved hand, drawing closer to the inside of the opened driver’s side door.
Spencer grabbed her wrist, and pulled her from the grass.
Sarah gnashed her teeth, and closed her eyes from the jarring movement. Her legs wobbled. The world spun a bit, making it hard for her to stay upright. She deflated against the car to keep from falling back into the thick grass.
“I’m not going to leave you here bleeding and at the mercy of these animals,” Spencer said, pulling her toward him.
“You’re more of a monster than they are,” Sarah shot back, winded and in pain.
Spencer lowered, then threw her over his shoulder. He grimaced.
The blood rushed to Sarah’s head. Her mind swirled. The throbbing in her side increased tenfold, making her eyes tear up.
“You’ll see, my love, this is for your own good.” Spencer turned, and hauled her battered and beaten body around the back end of the Chevelle. He skirted past the chrome bumper, and trudged up the driveway toward the idling vehicle.
The two dead men lying on the ground near the car caught Sarah’s attention. Splotches of blood covered their shirts. Their opened eyes gazed upon her pain-riddled face as Spencer walked past them.
Spencer walked with a limp–something she hadn’t noticed until now. He grunted with each step, but kept moving.
Sarah figured that he must still be hurting from being hit by the BMW Leatherface, Bryce’s right-hand man, was driving back in Boston.
Spencer opened the door of the black sedan that idled on the highway next to the entrance of the driveway. He took a step back, then moved around the edge of the door.
Sarah spotted another dead body at the front of the vehicle, lying face first on the pavement. His piece sat but a scant inch away from the tips of his fingers.
“You’ll be safe back here.” Spencer ducked, and laid Sarah in the back seat of the car.
The leather stretched under her weight. The firm, hard seats did little to ease her pain.
Spencer grabbed her ankles, and pushed her legs inside the vehicle. He slammed the door closed, turned, and dropped down into the driver’s seat. His door shut behind him with a dense thud. He shifted into reverse and punched the gas.
The sedan rolled away from the driveway and out into the highway. He spun the steering wheel counterclockwise, then pumped the brake.
Sarah’s body rolled back and forth in the seat. Each hard motion of the car brought more pain. She watched Spencer through the gap between the front seats. His hands worked the steering wheel, head on a swivel that scoured the road in both directions.
The tires squealed as the vehicle straightened out and gained speed. The engine thrummed in her ears and melded with her grunts and Spencer’s panted breaths.
“Where are–you taking–me?” Sarah asked, palming her side.
Spencer pulled the ghost face mask from his head, ran his fingers through his thick, brown hair, then looked back to her. “Some place safe where they won’t find us, and we can finally be alone.”
CHAPTER TWO
RUSSELL
Amber had been saved, but they weren’t out of harm’s way yet.
The drug lord who ruled over the impoverished portion of Philadelphia’s lower income area, laid dead on the pavement in the parking garage of Lincoln Heights Apartment complex, two bullet holes punched through his back from Russell’s Ruger. It had saved Amber, Cathy’s daughter, and Cathy herself.
“Well, that was intense,” Clyde, Russell and Cathy’s ally, said. He panted hard in the front-passenger seat. “We’re lucky we made it out of that apartment building alive.”
“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Russell replied, slamming the driver’s-side door closed on the drug lord’s Suburban. He glanced to the back seat at Amber and Cathy who looked haggard and spent of any energy. “You good back–”
Gunfire boomed like angry thunder. Russell jumped in his seat, faced forward, and shifted the Suburban into drive. His foot mashed the gas pedal to the floor. The bulky SUV lurched forward, and tore through the parking garage.
Bullets traced up the hood of the vehicle toward the windshield. The muzzle flashes of the weapons loomed in the low light from between the cars they passed.
Russell worked the steering wheel from side to side, cringing from the hailstorm that hammered the Suburban without pause. He took the sharp turn at max speed. The SUV went wide, trailing off toward the few parked cars near the entrance to the first floor of the complex.
The tires squealed, echoing off the walls of the garage. He caught brief flashes of the dark-skinned men moving for a better position to take the SUV out. The front bumper of the Suburban raked along the back ends of the cars in its path. The sound of tortured metal groaned inside the cab.
“Why the hell are they firing at us,” Clyde asked, slouched in the passenger seat. “Do they not know we have nothing to do with what’s happening here?”
“I don’t think they care about that right now.” Russell wrenched the steering wheel while keeping the gas pedal pressed to the floorboard. “Shoot first, ask questions later.”
Clyde glanced at the passenger-side window with his piece clutched tight in his hand. “That’s easier said than done. Just get us out of here, will ya?”
Russell hit the base of the ramp leading up and out of the parking garage. The gunfire ebbed. A few stray bullets pinged off the back end of the SUV.
The darkness of the garage gave way to the dismal gray sky that hung over the smoke-filled city like a shroud. Any residents of the complex standing on the sidewalks near the exit ducked and ran for cover.
The Suburban left the ground for a split second, slamming the circle drive with all four tires. Russell hit the brake, then spun the steering wheel clockwise to miss a small red hatchback car next to the curb.
Clyde gripped the handle in the corner of the cab while peering through the passenger-side window to the side-view mirror. His chest heaved, mouth open. He turned in his seat, then peered out the window.
“We’ve got two sedans hot on our tail. You seeing this?” He looked over at Russell.
“I’m a little busy trying to keep us from crashing while putting distance between us and them,” Russell shot back, barreling around the edge of the curb toward the street.
The black sedans trailing them surged forward, narrowing the distance between the vehicles. Russell’s gaze flitted to the rearview mirror as the cars closed in.
Amber panted while clutching her mother close to her chest. Cathy leaned against A
mber, looking worse by the second. Her eyelids sagged, and her face was drawn. She cringed with each bump the Suburban rolled over or hard turn it made.
Max sat in the far back seat of the SUV, barking at the vehicles. He stood and faced the large back window that had two bullet holes through the thick-paned glass.
The German shepherd lowered and growled, baring his sharp fangs. He tilted his head toward the roof of the SUV and continued barking.
“Max, stop,” Amber said, with a sharp, stern tongue. “That’s not helping any.”
The canine groaned and barked a few more times before complying.
The sedan behind the SUV sped up, and rammed the back end of the Suburban as they turned onto the main street from the circle drive. The impact knocked Russell and the others about. The vehicle swerved from side to side, making a wide arch in the middle of the street.
Russell wrestled the steering wheel, trying to straighten out their course. His hands kept a tight grip on the wheel–fixed at ten and two. He pulled the SUV back into the correct lane.
“Do you remember how to get back to my truck?” Clyde asked, holding the bar fixed to the truck with a taut grip.
“For the most part, yeah, but we’ll need to lose these clowns, or that won’t matter any,” Russell replied, racing down the street past the derelict homes and closed businesses that had lost power due to the cosmic event that struck the planet days before.
The Suburban picked up speed on the straightaway. Russell glanced to the speedometer, watching the red needle pass sixty with ease.
The city had little to no traffic at the moment, with any cars visible parked near the curbs and sidewalks. He gave a quick glance in either direction of the intersection they drove through for any oncoming vehicles.
The sedans sped up, and pulled along either side of the Suburban. Russell checked the side-view mirror, spotting the dirty, faded black hood and grill of the sedan in the other lane.
“I think they’re trying to box us in.” Clyde peered out of the passenger side window.
Survive The Fall | Book 5 | Fight Back Page 1
