Survive The Fall | Book 4 | Total Collapse

“Are you sure you’re going to be up for this?” Russell asked, holding up his hand at her.
Cathy paused, then looked at him. “I can’t stay behind. Not now. I need to get my daughter, and would crawl across broken, fiery glass to do it.”
Max panted over her shoulder. He groaned, then licked around his mouth in anticipation of getting out of the truck. His tongue lapped at the side of her face. She gave him a kiss, then hugged his neck.
Cathy scrunched her nose in disgust at the dry blood clinging to the German shepherd’s fur, then wiped the back of her hand across her mouth.
Russell nodded. “I understand how you feel. I got you, though. Come on down.”
Cathy braced her hand against the inside of the door and the frame of the truck.
Russell took her by the forearm, helping her down the side of the vehicle. She stepped on the running boards, then to the ground. He let go of her arm and took a step back, giving her some space.
Max toed the opening, looking at the ground and trying to figure out how best to climb out of the truck without hurting his handler.
Clyde whistled from the far side of the cab. “Max. Come here, big man. Let’s get out on this side.”
Max lingered for a moment, looked back at Clyde, then at Russell and Cathy.
“Go around, Max,” Cathy said, touching her thigh.
The excited German shepherd groaned, turned around on the bench seat, then darted across the cab.
Cathy leaned against the truck and limped down the side toward the bed.
“Here.” Clyde tossed the rucksack at the open door.
Russell grabbed the bag from the seat and pulled it out of the truck. He shut the door, then moved to the front of the vehicle.
Cathy limped behind him, favoring the injured leg. Despite being wounded, she battled through the discomfort and moved better than Russell had thought she would.
Max bolted around the front of the truck, head trained to the concrete. He sniffed about, investigating the unfamiliar area.
Clyde tugged at the strap attached to the rifle slung over his shoulder. He pushed the cylinder of the .38 Special out, stared at the rounds loaded, then thumbed it back into place. “We ready to move?”
Russell secured the straps of the rucksack over both shoulders, then pointed at the rifle. “You sure you want to be carrying that on you in the open while walking through the city? That might put any police or any other folks we cross on edge.”
Clyde stuffed the revolver in the front of his waistband. “It’ll be fine. Besides, given how things are, we might need all the firepower we can carry. We don’t know what we’ll come across out there, and from the way some of those people were engaging the police and tossing alcohol bombs at them, it’s safe to assume that we’ll run into trouble sooner rather than later.”
“All right.” Russell held his hands up. He looked at Cathy. “Are you packing?”
“Always,” Cathy answered, patting the top of her waistline.
“Good. How many blocks do you think we have to go?” Russell asked, looking at the end of the parking garage facing the street.
Cathy shrugged. “Not sure. I’ll have a better idea once we get back on the move. If more of the city is in as dire shape as what we’ve seen, it’ll take some time.”
Max trotted off ahead of them, sniffing the deck of the garage with his tail curled.
“Hold up, Max,” Russell said.
“I got him.” Clyde waved Russell off, then followed behind the curious canine.
Cathy touched Russell’s elbow. “You have any liquor left in that bottle you’re carrying around?”
Russell dug into the front pocket of his jeans and fished the small bottle out. “Yeah.”
“Let me see it.” Cathy held out her hand, then wiggled her fingers.
“I thought you wanted your mind clear?” Russell shot back, handing her the bottle.
“I’m more worried about tolerating the discomfort in my leg and reaching my daughter as fast as I can.” Cathy screwed the top off and took a hearty swig of the brown-tinted liquor. She closed her eyes, shook her head, then handed the bottle back to Russell. “Thanks.”
Russell grabbed it from her, and took a sip before stowing the bottle in his pants pocket. “Better?”
Cathy wiped the wetness from her lips with her hand, then nodded. “It’ll do. Let’s go.”
Clyde and Max waited near the concrete corner of the garage that led to the street entrance and the upper levels.
Russell reached out to lend a helping hand.
Cathy waved him off. “I got it. Thanks. I’ll let you know if I need help.”
“Copy that.” Russell trailed Cathy as they headed for the others. He glanced over his shoulder at the far end of the garage near the alley, then faced forward.
Cathy was tough as nails.
Russell admired her grit and respected her resolve in doing what needed to be done in order to reach her daughter. She was a true force of determination in the face of an injury.
Max trotted toward them, circled Cathy’s legs, then matched her step for step. He stayed close, guarding his family, and watching out for any threats looking to do them harm.
Clyde took point and advanced across the parking garage to the exit leading down to the street. He walked next to the concrete wall near the drive, watching the street for any possible threats.
Cathy hobbled alongside the wall, bracing her hand against the smooth surface and using it as a crutch.
Max galloped to the street, sniffed the pavement, then tested the air. His ears stood on end, head training to the various sounds that tainted the hazy sky.
Cathy hit the sidewalk near the street, paused, then leaned against the wall. She took two deep