“It’ll be fine,” Amber replied in a curt manner. “Let’s just get going while we can.”
Russell squinted, and peered through the dark-tinted window to the back seat. He spotted Cathy’s silhouette laying down with her arm draped over her forehead. “All right. Stay close and be safe. If you need anything at all, flash your headlights or hit the horn.”
“Will do.” Amber offered a thumbs up, then closed her window.
They walked away from the Suburban toward the Silverado. Clyde dug his hand into the pocket of his coat, and moved past the grill of the truck to the driver’s side.
Russell removed the rucksack from his shoulders, then opened the passenger-side door. He crammed the pack on the floorboard, and scaled the side of the truck.
Clyde stepped on the running board, and grabbed the handle in the corner. He pulled himself into the cab, and settled into the leather seat of the truck. His door shut with a dense thud. Russell closed his as well.
“Do you know how to get out of the city from here?” Russell asked, securing his seat belt. “We might want to avoid any hot zones if at all possible. Perhaps stick to residential areas and all.”
“That’s my intent, though, we’ll have to play it by ear, and see how things go.” Clyde slipped the key into the ignition, then turned it clockwise. The engine fired up. “Keep your eyes open and head on a swivel.”
Russell stared out of the passenger-side window at the Suburban. “That’s a given. I want out of this mess as fast as possible. Make sure you don’t leave the girls behind. Amber wanted to stay in the Suburban, so Cathy could have more room. I’d rather us all be together, but she felt otherwise.”
“They are some strong-willed women for sure.” Clyde shifted into drive. “The both of them remind me of my wife. I’ve learned when to just shut up and go along and when to press the issue. They’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”
If you say so.
Russell set the Ruger in his lap.
Clyde pulled out of the parking space, and drove toward to the exit of the parking garage.
Amber followed close, trailing the Silverado around the corner of the concrete wall down to the alley.
The truck inched out of the garage. Clyde looked either way, then continued on. He turned toward the street, keeping both hands fixed on the top of the steering wheel at ten and two.
Russell glanced at the side-view mirror, watching Amber pull out and fall in line behind them. He rubbed the palms of his hands over the tops of the jeans, wiping away the moisture coating his skin.
Clyde neared the edge of the alley. The front end of the truck materialized past the blind corner of the parking garage and the brick building on the driver’s side. He studied both directions of the street for the sedan.
“Looks like we’re all clear. I’m not seeing the car that chased after us earlier.”
“It appears that way.” Russell watched the few people he could see on the sidewalks across the street, rushing in the other direction from the buildings that had been ransacked and looted. “The sooner we get out of here, the better I’ll feel.”
“Likewise. I’m not feeling the brotherly love for sure.”
Clyde pulled out onto the street. He peered out of his window, watching for Amber.
“How long do you think things are going to be like this?” he asked, driving down the street.
“Like what? That’s kind of an open-ended question, isn’t it?” Russell shot back.
Clyde pointed at the smoldering and looted buildings they passed. “All of this craziness. It’s like the world collapsed overnight. I never thought I’d see such a decay in human civility in my life. At least, not on a scale like this. People have lost their damn minds.”
Russell shrugged. “No telling. You’ll always have a percentage of the population that toes the fringe, waiting for any catalyst to kick things off. The power grid going down, and the shit economy offered the incentive these heathens needed to do all of this. Hopefully, things will get under control sooner rather than later, but I’m not as optimistic, considering what all we’ve seen and been through.”
“Kind of a bleak outlook, isn’t it?” Clyde thumbed the blinker on the steering column. He cut down another alley on the right side of the road, avoiding the parked cars in the middle of the street and other debris that blocked their way. “I can’t foresee the government allowing this sort of lawlessness continuing for too much longer.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Don’t get me wrong, I’d like things to even out and have these depraved thugs taken off the street. That would help matters greatly. But the bigger and more complex problem is the fact that the grid is toast, communications are down, and basic services like running water, electricity, and even food distribution are more than likely at a standstill. From the way Cathy spoke, she said, depending on how bad it is, it could take years for the grid to come back online.”
“Years?” Clyde glanced over at Russell for a split second while navigating the alleyway. “Man. That would be horrible. How does she know it would take that long?”
Russell watched the side-view mirror, making sure Amber was staying close behind them. “It was more of an educated guess, but she’s a prepper and survivalist and has studied some on how the country’s power grid could be taken offline. All things considered, I hope she’s wrong, and they can get everything up and running soon. Regardless of what happens, the only thing I care about right now is getting back to Boston and finding Sarah. After I locate her, then we’ll deal with everything else as it comes.”
Clyde shook his head. “I hope Cathy’s wrong. The power taking so long to come back would not be a good thing. I couldn’t imagine things getting any worse than this.”
The Silverado crept toward the end of the alley. Clyde craned his neck, examining both directions of the street. He pulled out a bit farther, then slammed the brakes, his gaze fixed to the west.
“What is it?” Russell asked, leaning forward in his seat. He couldn’t see much of the street past the corner of the building they were parked next to.
“I thought I spotted that sedan from earlier down the road, there.” Clyde pulled out a bit more, giving Russell a better view of the street.
Russell spotted the car driving their way. “That’s not them. It’s a different make and model.”
“Are you sure?” Clyde shot back, cutting his eyes to Russell. “They won’t recognize the truck, but they’ll spot the Suburban fast if it is them.”
“Yeah. I’m sure of it,” Russell answered. The sedan drove toward them, then turned at the intersection a block or so away, leaving their sight. “See. We’re good. Let’s go.”
Clyde shook his head, and drove out onto the street, heading in the opposite direction of the car. “To say that I’ll be happy once we’re out of this city is a huge understatement.”
Russell nodded in agreement.
The two vehicles navigated through the unrest of the city. They left behind the chaos and uprising for the calmer waters of the residential areas.
Russell studied each drab home they passed for any curious stares or other hints that marked possible trouble. Each dwelling had faded paint covering the aged-wood siding. Darkness loomed beyond the windows of the houses facing the street. An array of kids’ toys and other various junk littered the front yards. He spied no figures lurking about the houses or the vehicles that sat parked next to the sidewalks or in the driveways.
Amber followed their every move and didn’t fall behind. He glanced over his shoulder through the back window of the truck, making sure everything was okay with them.
“Once we get out of the city and back on the highway, how long do you think it’ll take us to get back to Boston?” Russell asked.
Clyde scratched at the hairs growing around his chin, then tapped his finger against the fuel gauge. “Depends on how long it takes us to find some more fuel. We’ll have to do that sooner rather than later.”
Russell held his hand up. “Mi
nus the fuel. How long are we looking at?”
“Three to four hours maybe. I’m not real sure,” Clyde answered, shrugging. “If the highways aren’t blocked with traffic and we don’t run into any more trouble, that will help. I doubt the state patrol will be out or any other police, so we can push the speed limit to save some time.”
“Whatever we need to do, I’d appreciate doing it,” Russell said. “However fast we can go without losing the girls or endangering them will be good. The last thing we need is for someone to get in a bad accident.”
Clyde nodded. “For sure. We don’t want that. Once we hit open road, and if it’s clear, we should be able to run at seventy to eighty miles per hour, easy.”
They continued on, navigating the residential neighborhoods until reaching the outer city limits. Clyde pointed out the sign for I-95 N that would get their trek started. He made a wide arch around a stalled red hatchback in the right lane next to the curb, then drove onto the on-ramp.
Amber kept pace with the truck, staying about a car length back. The headlights shined in the mirrors.
Russell shifted his gaze from the mirror to the road ahead, watching for any signs of trouble. A wave of tiredness washed over his body. His mouth gaped open. A yawn crept up on him. He palmed his mouth with his hand and closed his eyes.
“Man.” Russell shook his head and wiped the tears that formed in each socket away. “I guess I’m more tired than I thought I was.”
Clyde drove up the ramp to the highway at a modest speed, then glanced back down the road for any traffic heading toward them. “I know what you mean. My body’s been running on nothing but adrenaline and caffeine for the past few days. I imagine I’ll be hitting the brick wall soon.”
Russell wiped the wetness on his pants, then opened his lids as far as they would go. “You’re not going to fall asleep at the wheel, are you?”
Clyde merged onto the highway and settled into the middle lane. He checked the rearview mirror, then adjusted his back side in the seat. “Not a chance. I’m used to driving for long periods while tired. Me and the misses traveled a lot, and I was the chauffeur. We drove many times in the dead of night. She’d be passed out there in the passenger seat while I handled the road. No need to worry about that. If you want to get some shut eye, you’re more than welcome.”
“Thanks. I might do that after we get some fuel.” Russell noticed a blue sign coming up on the side of the road indicating gas stations were about a mile away from them. “Speaking of, do you want to stop at one of those gas stations? I’d rather do that than have to try and syphon more gas from a car on the side of the road. Seeing as there aren’t many around, that could pose a problem.”
“That sounds like a good idea. Besides, it’s your turn to get the fuel.” Clyde smirked, then adjusted the A/C on the dash. “Sorry. I hope you’re not cold or anything. It helps me stay alert.”
“I’m good,” Russell answered, staring at the black colored vents in the dash. “Perhaps we’ll luck out, and the pumps will have power.”
“I think that’s wishful thinking,” Clyde shot back.
Russell shrugged. “One can hope.”
CHAPTER FIVE
SARAH
The rhythmic motion of the sedan lured Sarah into a state of partial relaxation, whether she wanted it or not. Both eyelids struggled to stay open, but the festering discomfort in her side kept her from slipping into a deep sleep.
Sarah laid down in the back seat of the sedan. Spencer hadn’t spoken a word in some time. He peered through the gap between the front seats at her, then looked to the road.
“We’ll be stopping soon. I noticed a sign for a rest stop.” He adjusted his weight in the seat. The leather stretched under him as he moved. “How’s your side feeling?”
“Hurts like I got shot. That’s how it feels.” Sarah licked her dry, tacky lips.
“I’ll take a look once we stop.” Spencer slowed, then spun the steering wheel. The sedan rolled over a bump and turned again.
Tree branches passed by the window. Sunlight shone through the open gaps within the canopy.
The car slowed a bit more, then turned. It came to a rolling stop.
Spencer killed the engine, then surveyed the area. He peered out of the windshield and the side windows before pulling the key from the ignition. “This should work while I get you fixed up.”
Sarah kept her palm pressed to the gunshot wound. She rubbed both sockets hard with the tips of her fingers, then lifted the back of her head from the seat. “No sign of the SUV following us, then?”
“Not that I’ve seen. There isn’t much traffic out here. We did pass a number of cars abandoned on the road, but I didn’t see any people walking. I don’t want to be stopped for too long just in case anyone is in the area.” Spencer opened the driver-side door. “I’m going to check the trunk for a medical kit. Stay here.”
He stepped out of the sedan, and slammed the door behind him. The keys dangled from his fingers before he stowed them in the front pocket of his pants. He passed by the window, then disappeared.
The hinges of the trunk lid squeaked, low and subtle.
Sarah rolled toward the floorboard, searching for the pistol she had dropped earlier. Her gaze scanned the dark depths, then cut back to the window, looking for Spencer. She could hear him rummaging through the contents in the trunk. The bumps and clatters indicated he was occupied.
She removed her hand from the wound and felt around the floorboard. The tips of her fingers grazed the coarse fabric and thick rubber of the floor mats. The thumping of her heart grew louder, more intense with each second that ticked by. Her pulse spiked as she glanced at the window.
Spencer emerged from the back of the vehicle and came into view, carrying a white-plastic box in his hands. He stood on the other side of the door, reaching for the handle. Sarah pulled her arm back from the floorboard as he opened the door.
A slight breeze rushed the inside of the car. The air brushed against her flushed, sweaty skin. It felt good and offered a reprieve from the tackiness covering her body.
“I found a medical kit stuffed in the trunk,” Spencer said, bending over and peering into the back seat. His gaze diverted to her stomach, then worked up her body, past her breasts to her face. He shook the container. The loose items inside rattled about the box. “There’s not much in here, but enough for us to at least clean it off and bandage the wound. We’ll need to stop and get some more supplies to keep it clean and free of infection.”
Sarah stared at Spencer, trembling from him being so close to her. The way the Creeper stared at her made her feel unclean and uncomfortable in her own skin. She wanted to back away, but the closed door behind her stayed that notion.
She locked eyes with him. “I do appreciate you saving my life back there and all, but I want to find my husband. You need to let me go.”
Spencer set the container on her waist. His hand brushed over her thigh. He glanced at her legs, then back up to her. “Like I told you, Sarah, I’m going to keep you safe and help you recover. You need me, whether you realize it or not. I can protect you, more so than that so-called husband of yours.”
Uneasiness boiled inside of her. A simple touch from him made her skin crawl. She bit back the fear, trying to remain focused, and waited for her moment to try and escape his clutches.
“You do realize you’re a large part of the reason I’m in this mess,” Sarah said, matter of fact. “You’ve had a big hand in destroying my life. I regret ever meeting you, and wish I could go back in time and tell Mandy no thanks. It would save me so much heartache and pain.”
Spencer nodded with an emotionless gaze. He undid the clamps on the side of the container. “I know you don’t really mean that, Sarah. That’s the injury talking. Mandy did you a favor by bringing us together. One day, you will see that. I promise.”
“I can promise you that will never happen,” Sarah shot back, her face twisted in a scowl. “We will never be a thing, and that is somet
hing you’re going to have to accept, whether you like it or not.”
“I guess we’ll agree to disagree for now, but you’ll come around. I know you will. It will take some getting used to, but one day, you will forget all of this and love me as much as I love you.” Spencer opened the lid and thumbed through the items inside. He cherry picked some gauze and bandages.
Sarah palmed her side, then rolled her eyes from the arrogant comment. “You’re delusional if you think that’ll ever happen, you psycho.”
Spencer flitted his gaze to Sarah’s face, then squinted. His nostrils flared with anger; lips pursed. “I’m not a psycho and would appreciate you not calling me that. It’s hurtful. I’m doing nothing but protecting you, and tending to your injuries. It would be easy for me to deliver you to Valintino myself and get paid, but I don’t want that. It would be wise for you to remain in my good graces.”
Are you kidding me? Sarah thought. He really is delusional.
“Like you said. I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree, then,” Sarah replied.
Spencer snickered, shook his head, then pulled her hand away from the wound. “You are a firecracker. Nothing sexier than a strong, confident woman.”
Sarah resisted pushing against his hand that forced her arm away. She had grown weak from lack of food, water, and now the bullet wound in her side.
“Just relax. We’ll get this fixed up, and be on our way soon enough.” Spencer released her arm, then tore the bloody fabric open from where the bullet went into her side.
The touch of his hand against her flesh made Sarah sick to her stomach. Acid filled her throat. She choked down the nauseating sensation, and focused on the light-gray ceiling of the sedan.
He stepped inside the car. His body hovered mere inches above her. She grew more uncomfortable from him being so close. He leaned forward and inspected the wound. His fingers pressed around the entry point.
Sarah drew a sharp breath and winced. Her body tensed, and muscles tightened.
Spencer moved the medical kit to the area between the back window and the top of the seat. He grabbed her arm. “I need for you to roll toward the back of the seat.”
Survive The Fall | Book 5 | Fight Back Page 4
