Survive The Fall | Book 5 | Fight Back

by Shupert, Derek

  She did as he requested and rolled to her side. His hand touched her back with a gentle touch as he studied the damaged, bloody flesh.

  “I don’t believe the bullet is still inside from the exit wound you have back here,” Spencer said, looking up to her. “That’s a good thing. If it had been, we would’ve had to fish it out, and that would be painful. You’re fortunate.”

  “I don’t feel too fortunate, but if you say so,” Sarah replied, with a strained breath.

  “I need for you to stay like this while I clean it. I’ll try to be quick.” Spencer reached for the medical kit.

  Sarah breathed heavily through her nose, and stared at the stitched-black leather of the back seat.

  Spencer dabbed around the wound as best he could, taking care to not hurt Sarah any more than need be. He glanced at her face after each subtle noise she made.

  She grimaced.

  “I apologize if this is hurting,” Spencer said, placing a bandage on the side of her stomach.

  “It’s fine. This isn’t the worst pain I’ve ever felt,” Sarah replied.

  Spencer fixed another bandage to the exit wound on her back, then slipped out of the car. “There. Not my best work, but it’ll do until we can properly clean it later, and stitch it up.”

  Sarah rolled over, flat on her back. Her jaw clenched, biting back the discomfort. “I need to use the restroom before we leave.”

  “Um.” Spencer rubbed the back of his neck, then peered over the top of the sedan. “We need to keep moving, and put as much distance between them and us.”

  “Well, unless you want me to piss my pants, I need to go.” Sarah reached for the side of the driver’s seat. Her fingers grabbed a handful of the leather. She pulled herself up, wincing through the pain stabbing her side.

  Spencer took Sarah by the hand, and helped her up and out of the car. He stepped back, released her hand, then glanced over to the brown-cinder block building housing the restrooms. “All right. Make it quick.”

  Sarah pressed her palm to the side of the sedan, and made her way past the trunk. She stepped up onto the sidewalk near the empty parking spaces and trudged toward the building.

  Footfalls stalked Sarah from behind. Each step she made a matching one sounded at her back. She peered over her shoulder, finding Spencer a few paces behind her.

  “I think I can manage on my own. Thanks.” Sarah eyed Spencer who stopped, looked at her, then over to the entrance of the women’s restroom. “I’m not going to be able to pee with you hovering over my shoulder.”

  Spencer rubbed his chin. “Use the restroom and come back out here. You’ve got five minutes. If you’re not out here before then, I’m coming in.”

  The dreadful notion twisted Sarah’s stomach into a knot, but she hid her disgusted expression under a simple nod. “Sure.”

  Spencer turned and walked back to the sedan, glancing over his shoulder at her.

  Sarah walked the concrete path to the open space on the women’s side of the small building. She moved past the edge of the wall, then stopped. Her back pressed to the rigid surface. A deep sigh fled her lips. The smell of human waste stewing in the confines of the restroom churned her already unsteady stomach.

  Sunlight shone through the thick windows that lined the periphery of the restroom, illuminating the dank space. The two white sinks mounted against the wall near her had splotches of brown covering the sides of them.

  Sarah searched for another exit out of the restroom, but found nothing more than solid-cinder block walls and toilets. The windows mounted near the ceiling looked to be solid glass with no way of opening them. They were well out of her reach even if they could be used somehow.

  The minutes ticked down like seconds. Sarah had to act fast if she hoped to put some distance between her and Spencer. Every moment she spent idle in that restroom was time wasted, and only got her that much closer to being dragged back to the sedan and to a frightful future she didn’t want to imagine.

  She pursed her lips and cussed under her breath. Her hand pressed to her side, relieving the discomfort that tormented her. Moving fast wasn’t an option. She had to be stealthy and move with care as to not attract the Creeper’s attention.

  Sarah peered toward the open doorway. An idea gelled inside her head. A risky endeavor formulated into a plan of escape–one she felt needed to be taken if she wanted to get away.

  Her shoulder pressed to the wall. She inched her way toward the edge. Her heart pounded against her chest. She listened for Spencer.

  The tips of her shoes toed the sharp corner of the cinder block wall. She peered out to the grass and concrete walkway leading to the bathrooms, then over to the sedan.

  Spencer leaned against the trunk on the driver’s side of the car. His arms folded across his chest. He peered at his watch, then over to the restrooms.

  Sarah pulled back, waited a moment, then took another peek.

  He looked to the highway, then pushed off the sedan. His sight fixed to the road.

  Sarah slipped out of the women’s bathroom, and trudged around the wall that led to the men’s section of the facility. She slipped inside the low light, panting as she hid from him.

  Her back pressed flush to the wall. She faced the open space, able to see him from where she stood.

  Spencer glanced to the bathrooms, and walked to the building. He checked his watch again, moving through the grass to the concrete walkway. His pace quickened, footfalls rapping off the concrete in rapid succession.

  Sarah waited for her moment to move out of the bathroom and head for the woods. She wanted to steal the car and leave him behind, but he had the keys in his pocket.

  “Time’s up.” Spencer stood outside of the open space of the women’s bathroom. “Come on. We need to get back on the move, now.”

  Sarah pursed her lips and held her breath, trying to keep her presence hidden from him. She wanted to wait for him to move inside the bathroom before she made her next move.

  “Sarah. Come on. We need to go,” he said again, his voice growing more agitated with each second she didn’t respond. “Fine. I’m coming in.” Spencer stomped across the concrete and into the women’s bathroom.

  Sarah slipped around the wall of the men’s bathroom, and moved toward the other side of the building, figuring he’d check the men’s side next. The slamming of the stall doors from the women’s side echoed out of the structure. Each hard bang made Sarah flinch and hold her breath.

  “Sarah,” Spencer yelled her name in an angry, loud voice that made her cringe.

  She skirted the far side of the building, then raced toward the tree line. The pain in her side increased with each step. Her face contorted in agony, but she pushed on, focusing on nothing more than the dense woods ahead of her.

  Sarah peered over her shoulder, half expecting to see Spencer’s scowl-ridden face and narrowed eyes staring at her, but he wasn’t there. She slipped around the back of the building, out of sight from the side of the structure, and continued on through the grass to the trees.

  Sarah wanted to run, but her body refused to obey. Between the lack of food, water, and being injured as she was, a semi-fast paced walk was all she could muster.

  She pushed her way through the low-lying branches that snagged the fabric of her shirt and probed her body. The pointed ends jabbed her flesh. She cringed. Her hand remained fixed to her side as the other shoved the branches out of her way.

  The leaves carpeting the ground crunched under her feet. The quick pants fleeing her mouth melded with each step on the crunchy vegetation. She looked over the dense woods for a place to hide, but she didn’t know where would be safe.

  “Sarah,” Spencer called out her name from beyond the building. His voice boomed like angry thunder on a treacherous, stormy night.

  Sarah kept going, venturing farther into the unknown without looking over her shoulder. She ducked under more branches and moved around the trees. The pain in her side flourished to the point of making her weep.<
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  She took refuge behind a large tree to catch her breath, and give her body a moment to rest. The back of her head leaned against the coarse surface of the bark. Her gaze flitted to the canopy overhead. Her mouth opened as deep breaths forced their way out.

  “You don’t need to run away from me, Sarah,” Spencer said, his voice sounding close by. “I only want to protect you. It’s too dangerous for you out on your own and injured.”

  Sarah inched around the tree trunk, then peered through the dense foliage to the edge of the woods near the brown building. She spotted fragments of Spencer’s clothes through the leaves and branches. He stood just beyond the tree line, pacing back and forth while calling out her name.

  Does he think I’m back here somewhere or something? Sarah thought.

  “You need to stop this right now, and come out, Sarah,” Spencer said, his tone growing more hostile. “I’m growing tired of this. Do not force my hand.”

  She faced forward, lining out a path that led farther into the woods and the unknown. Sarah gave one last look in the Creeper’s direction, who had moved down a bit from her position, then pushed off the tree. She kept low and plodded through the bushes and other verdure that blanketed the ground.

  Spencer’s voice carried through the woods, offering ample incentive for Sarah to push past the discomfort in her side and keep moving away from him. His words died off to a low whisper that melted away.

  Her legs trembled with each step, and vision blurred from the pain. She tripped over her feet, falling face first into the leaves. The palms of her hands pressed into the dirt. Arms shook with tiredness, forcing her back to her feet.

  Sarah navigated the endless woods, using the trees as a crutch. She heard no other footfalls or Spencer’s harsh voice calling her name. Still, she kept her hastened pace.

  Without warning, she lost her footing and tumbled down a slope of exposed dirt and tree roots. Each harsh impact punished her body, making her grunt in pain. She hit the ground below, then rolled over twice before coming to a stop on her back.

  Tears filled her shiny eyes. Her vision blurred the canopy overhead. Muffles of anger, helplessness, and fright slipped free of her quivering lips.

  Get up, Sarah told herself while battling the discomfort stabbing her side. You can cry later. Now, move.

  Sarah rolled to her stomach, then pulled herself out of the dirt. Leaves clung to her shirt. The earth stuck to the blood that had soaked through her bandage. Any strength she had left in her body teetered on the point of running out. She had to keep moving while she could.

  Her jaw clenched as she got to her knees, then to her feet. She moved down the slope of the hill at a modest pace, wanting to avoid another tumble that would bring more suffering.

  Sarah wiped away the tears that raced down each cheek to her chin. She blinked twice, then opened her eyes. The blurred vision waned, offering a better view of what she was heading into.

  A structure of some sort materialized through the trees and bushes ahead of her. She squinted and moved her head about, trying to discern what it was, but the rich vegetation made it hard to see.

  She grabbed hold of thick branches and bushes, avoiding another pitfall. The palm of her hand felt the sharp needles of the green shrubbery and the ends of the branches. She ignored the bite, focusing on nothing more than the building ahead of her.

  Branches snapped behind her. A gasp fled her mouth. Her muscles tensed, and she peered over her shoulder, searching for the source, but couldn’t spot the cause of the noise.

  Spencer was out there, hunting her down, but she couldn’t spot him. She skimmed over the trees and other dense foliage before moving out of the woods and into the clearing that led to the large, four-story abandoned building before her.

  A portion of the structure’s bricked walls had taken damage, revealing the interior. Long blades of grass and weeds grew around the foundation. Vines slithered along the outer walls, and crawled in through any fissures or missing windows.

  Sarah ducked, and pushed her way through the branches. She trudged through the grass in ponderous slow motion. Every few seconds, she snuck a quick glance to the tree line for any signs of Spencer.

  The ramshackle building ahead captured her attention. Sarah looked over the tall weeds and other rubble that lined the outside of the derelict structure.

  The majority of the windows had been damaged on the side she faced. Jagged pieces of glass hung within the frames of the windows like sharp teeth. Holes peppered the walls, offering glimpses inside the ominous space.

  Sarah struggled to tell what the building was supposed to be in that tense filled moment, but in the end, it didn’t matter. She needed a place to lay low. Her body begged for a break.

  She noticed a dirt road to the west that sliced through the trees, and led to the less than desirable building.

  Her legs plowed through the weeds, carrying her through a gaping hole within the side of the first-floor wall. She scaled the pile of busted concrete and into the depths of the shabby structure.

  The sun shone through any fissures within the ceiling and walls. It gave a bit of light that pushed against the shadows plaguing the building.

  Sarah took a moment to catch her breath. She moved to the side of the missing wall, and deflated against the building, concealing her whereabouts. Deep, hard pants forced their way out of her mouth. The pounding of her heart thumped inside her ears. The matted strands of hair dangled in front of her face as she stared at the debris on the floor around her feet.

  She bent over. The heel of her palm pressed into the soft part just above her knee. Her face felt flush and warm. Beads of sweat raced down her face, mixing with the dirt that clung to the unkempt skin.

  The inside of Sarah’s mouth felt dry–gums tacky to the touch. Her stomach cramped and growled, begging for any sort of food. The onslaught of pain, hunger, thirst, and fear made it hard to think straight.

  A subtle noise loomed from beyond the wall Sarah took refuge behind. She held a bated breath, sat up straight, and pressed her back flush to the wall. It sounded like movement, footfalls crunching over the debris, but she wasn’t sure.

  Sarah stared at the open doorway across the room she stood in, then lurched toward the next room. Her feet stepped on busted brick and concrete, causing her balance to shift. She stumbled forward and swung her arms, trying to keep from falling to the floor.

  She passed through the doorway, and kept moving as fast as her legs would go. Each room led to another—a maze that she navigated with little thought of where was safe.

  Her side ached. The pain increased with each passing second. The muscles in both legs burned. The ankle she’d twisted when she’d jumped out the window back in Boston had a twinge of pain.

  Sarah skirted past the edge of a wall, and crumbled to the floor in a heap of spent energy. She dropped to her knees, then plopped over onto her side. The tiny fragments of debris poked her skull. The strands of her hair sat in the dirt and dust.

  Thin beams of the sun cut through a large section missing from the ceiling and washed over her face. Both lids grew heavy. A wave of tiredness ran through her body. Sarah took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then released it slowly while focusing on what little bit of the sky she could see.

  The palm of her hand moved from the wound and dropped to the floor. Sarah continued staring at the ceiling, thinking of her husband, Russell, and if he was alive or not. She hoped to see him again someday, but feared that Spencer would never allow it, and that her fate was sealed by the dreadful Creeper.

  CHAPTER SIX

  RUSSELL

  The Exxon pylon sign crested the top of the trees. Russell pointed out the windshield at the green exit sign coming up on the side of the road.

  Clyde glanced at the fuel gauge in the dash, then turned on his blinker.

  “If the pumps aren’t working, we better hope there’s some cars around that we can syphon gas from because we won’t be getting much farther,” he said, ta
king the exit that snaked through the trees and hooked back to the left.

  “Either way, we’ll figure something out here.”

  Russell peered into the passenger-side mirror, checking to make sure Amber was still behind them. The Suburban followed close, and kept pace with the Silverado without any issues.

  Clyde stopped at the stop sign, looked both ways down the road, then cut across the intersection to the far lane. Both men studied the Exxon gas station as the Silverado moved at a snail’s pace along the access road.

  Two cars sat parked on the side of the building. A man milled about the pumps with a red gas can clutched in his hands. He examined each fuel station for a few moments, then moved on to the next.

  “That doesn’t look promising,” Russell said, watching the tall, wiry man’s every move.

  Clyde pulled into the station’s parking lot, and approached the pumps with caution. The man craned his neck, and stared at the truck.

  Wrapping his fingers around the grip of the Ruger resting in his lap, Russell peered at the man’s hands and waist, looking for a weapon of any sort. The bottom of his black windbreaker hung below his waist, making it hard to gauge if he carried or not.

  The man took a step back from the pumps, then gave a simple nod in the direction of the Silverado. Russell parroted the gesture with his finger pressed against the side of the trigger guard.

  “Well, the place doesn’t look to have any power,” Clyde said, stopping the truck next to the fuel pumps. “What do you think?”

  Russell looked over the pumps close to them, then to the store. “I say kill the engine, and let’s check things out. We need gas, one way or another.”

  Amber pulled up behind the truck and stopped.

  Clyde turned the key, shutting the engine off. He removed it from the ignition, then shoved them inside the front pocket of his jeans. “I’ll double check the gas pumps, then we can see about the store.”

  Russell nodded. “Sounds good. I’m going to see how Cathy is holding up.”