Survive The Fall | Book 4 | Total Collapse

the city. “Traffic may be an issue with the power being down. Stoplights and such won’t be working, so we might want to try and avoid any such areas if we can.”
“The Stratford Apartments,” Cathy answered, her voice low and thick with worry. “I’m not sure what the best way there will be that won’t involve much traffic. It’s downtown, so it could be rough regardless of the way we go.”
Clyde looked to the rearview mirror, then asked, “Where downtown is it located?”
Cathy ran her fingers under both eyes. “It’s off Davis Boulevard.”
“Got it. I’ll see what I can do,” Clyde replied, nodding. “It’s been some time since I’ve been to Philly, but we’ll get there soon.”
“Need me to navigate or anything?” Russell asked, looking at Clyde then the interstate ahead. More of the large buildings came into view along with a bit of traffic stuck on the road.
Clyde skirted past the sedans and trucks that appeared to have suffered break-ins from the busted side windows and glass sprinkled over the pavement near some of the vehicles.
“Might have the both of you keep an eye out for any trouble. I’d like to avoid it if at all possible.” Clyde jerked the steering wheel toward the off ramp coming up. “Six eyes are better than two.”
“True,” Russell said, the road and area for any possible threats lurking on the roadway.
“How are you holding up?” Cathy asked, clearing her throat. “I can imagine you’re still worried about your wife.”
Russell shrugged. “I’m holding. Doing the best I can, all things considered. Taking it one day at a time until I get back to Boston to find Sarah.”
“I do appreciate everything you’ve done,” Cathy said. “I know I’m sounding like a broken record a lot, but you have been a massive help. Both of you have.”
“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” Russell replied, glancing back to her. “After everything you’ve done for me, it’s the least I can do. Despite all the preparedness and survival tactics, going through an actual catastrophic event is always hard. All in all, I think we’ve done rather well handling everything.”
Clyde drove down the spiral exit ramp to the street below, keeping a tight hold on the steering wheel and working the brake. “Agreed. I’ve been through tornados, hurricanes, and all sorts of bad crap, and thought I was prepared for anything else. It’s hard to know how you’d actually fair in a massive catastrophic event that spans the globe. Most folks aren’t ready for when people start doing stupid things and help isn’t a phone call away. Adapt or die.”
The crackle of gunfire echoed in the distance.
Max sat up in the seat, then looked out of the window.
Russell reached for the Ruger, leaving the .38 Special in the center console. He skimmed the street ahead for any threats or menacing individuals lurking about.
“That’s one thing about Philadelphia, it can keep you on your toes without the end of the world breathing down your neck,” Clyde said, merging onto the two-lane road.
Cathy cycled a round from the Smith and Wesson she carried.
Max sat on his haunches, peering out of the back window and growling at each gunshot that popped off in the distance.
The intersection ahead was blocked by a number of cars and an eighteen-wheeler. The jumbled mess of contorted steel and busted fragments from the vehicles covered the pavement. Fluids from the five vehicles leaked over the roadway. A fire had started in a blue, two-door hatchback that was mashed between the large semi-truck and the beige SUV.
Clyde drove up onto the sidewalk past the six cars that sat parked at the powerless signal in front of the wreckage. The Silverado drove half on the walkway and the road, threading its wide, bulky frame between the stationary cars and the crosswalk signal.
The doors of the trailer sat open. Cardboard boxes laid scattered behind the long, silver enclosed transport, covering the ground. The wind thrashed the clear plastic wrap that intertwined between the mess of cardboard boxes. White packing peanuts blew from the tops of the open boxes, covering the road.
Russell looked over the wreckage for anyone trapped within the vehicles, but spied no one.
Clyde hugged the curb, staying close to the crosswalk signal to avoid the fragments from the wreckage that laid in the road a few feet away. The Silverado dropped down from the curb to the street and kept going down the roadway.
The smell of smoke hung in the air and funneled through the vents of the truck. Russell’s nose crinkled from the stench. Max barked at the people walking down the sidewalk on the far side of the street. He inched closer to the window, studied the people, then growled.
Cathy ran her fingers down his spine, but it did little to calm the German shepherd. The growls grew louder the more people he spotted.
“It may prove a bit harder to navigate the city than we thought,” Clyde said, slowing the truck and coming to a stop in the middle of the street. “Looks like there might be another wreck ahead of us, and some folks just abandoned their cars in the middle of the road.”
Russell nodded at the surly looking individuals standing close to the buildings–watching the idling truck. “I’m not liking the way people are staring at us. We probably need to find another way and keep moving.”
Clyde nodded, then pointed to the east side of the street. “We’ve got an alley there we can take. Should drop us out onto the next street over.”
“It’s worth a look,” Russell shot back, pointing at a man wearing a black hoodie who was staring at the truck. “That guy in the hoodie over there is eyeing us pretty hard.”
“Yeah. I’ve got a few more people doing the same thing near that drugstore there,” Cathy