Survive The Fall | Book 4 | Total Collapse

like roaches seeking cover. The few officers on scene took refuge behind the opened doors of their squad cars. Pistols and shotguns trained at the crowd.
A fiery-orange glow caught Russell’s eye from one of the feral rioters dressed in all black. The gaunt looking man tossed the Molotov bomb at the prowler parked near the curb of the street.
The glass bottle shattered on the hood.
Fire crawled across the car in a blink.
The officer ducked, then ran from the flames consuming his cruiser.
“Christ,” Russell muttered. He twirled his fingers at Clyde. “Back up now and get us the hell out of here.”
Clyde shifted the Silverado into reverse, threw his arm across the back of Russell’s seat, then punched the gas. The tires squealed. The truck lunged backward, throwing Russell forward.
The hue from more fires igniting the rags within the necks of the alcohol bombs spread among the rioters. People ran in every direction, trying to flee from those who sought to increase the chaos. The police fired at the heathens. Flashes of muzzle fire spread among the lawful men and women fighting to maintain order.
Clyde whipped the steering wheel, then slammed the brake. The truck skidded over the street and came to a stop. The front end pointed at another alleyway on the east side of the road.
A way out of the tumult.
Max barked and growled at the rioters. He paced the backseat, staring out the window at the people rushing past the truck.
“Move the hell out of the way,” Clyde said, waving his arm at the swarm of people blocking the entrance to the alley.
“Punch it,” Cathy said in a heated tone. “They’ll move, one way or another.”
Clyde mashed the gas pedal. The truck surged forward. He laid on the horn with his hand, then waved at the crowd.
People fled, tripping over their feet in every attempt to not get crushed by the incoming vehicle. Bullets zipped past the bed of the truck, missing it by inches.
Russell waved his hand at the scattering people, hoping they’d move out of the way in time.
“Have people lost their damn minds?” Cathy asked in a huff as the truck hit the entrance.
“Some folks look for a reason to add to an already shitty situation.” Clyde glanced in the rearview mirror.
“Doesn’t seem like we’re going to be able to find an easy way across town.” Russell braced his free hand against the dash while looking to the sideview mirror.
Clyde jerked the steering wheel, avoiding more trash cans and other debris in the middle of the corridor. “We’re going to probably need go the rest of the way on foot.”
“Why?” Cathy asked in a raised tone.
“Fuel.” Clyde tapped the plastic covering the gauges. “I thought we’d have enough, but we’re already sucking fumes and with all of the craziness all around, I’m not sure stopping at a gas station right now is going to be the best course of action. Besides, we’ll probably have to syphon some gas from another car as the pumps likely aren’t working with the power being out.”
“Agreed.” Russell looked at Clyde, then back to Cathy. “. I think we should find someplace safe to park the truck, and we’ll just have to hoof it on foot. Are you going to be up for that?”
Cathy sighed, glanced at her leg, then nodded. “I’ll manage. We don’t have much of a choice in the matter, do we?”
“Afraid not,” Clyde answered, pumping the brake as they closed in on the street ahead. “I want to get to your daughter’s place as fast as we can, but I also need my truck running and in one piece. Whatever we need to get there, we’ll do it.”
Russell tapped Clyde’s arm, then pointed at the parking garage they were passing. “Why don’t we park the truck in there?”
Clyde looked through the passenger side window at the parking garage they zipped past. “That could work.”
He came to a stop, shifted into reverse, then backed up to the entrance. Russell scanned the dimness for any signs of trouble, but didn’t see any within the low light. Clyde shifted into drive, spun the wheel, and drove up the incline onto the lower level of the garage.
The beefy V8 rumbled inside the enclosed space. The headlights came on, washing over the other vehicles spread throughout the garage.
“Looks good enough for me,” Clyde said, cruising through the garage. “I’m not seeing any signs of trouble. Where do you think we should park?”
Russell pointed at the far end of the garage. “I’d probably park away from the entrance coming in from the alley. They should have some sort of exit facing the street and another entrance. I think here should be good.”
Clyde slowed the truck, then backed into a parking space between a dark-blue BMW and a red Audi hardtop convertible.
“If anyone does come looking for a vehicle to break into, hopefully they’ll choose either of those sporty rides,” Clyde said, stopping the truck.
“It’ll be fine,” Russell replied. “It shouldn’t be here for too long. We move as fast and cautiously as we can, and we’ll be back in no time.”
“Optimism. You’re full of it, aren’t you, Cage?” Clyde asked, killing the engine.
“Just stating facts,” Russell replied, shrugging.
Clyde pocketed the keys, retrieved the .38 Special from the center console, opened his door, and hopped down to the pavement. “Let’s get this party started, shall we?”
Russell pushed his door open and climbed down to the ground, making sure to not hit the sports car parked next to them. He opened the back passenger side door, then took a step back.
Cathy sat straight in the seat. The interior light of the truck illuminated the grimace of discomfort on her face. Her lips pursed, and her nose scrunched as she swung her legs toward the open door.