Survive The Fall | Book 4 | Total Collapse

“There’s no telling what sort of attention that will draw.”
Clyde sighed. “What do you suggest we do? If those little shits want trouble, then that’s what they’ll get.”
“I’m not sure what we should do, but we need to move.” Russell raced to Cathy’s side and reached for her arm. “Put your arm across my shoulders. I’ll help you along.”
Cathy glanced over his shoulder, then pushed away from the brick wall. She turned and tossed her arm over Russell’s broad shoulders.
Russell bore her weight, then shot a quick peek at the far side of the street.
Max growled at the men.
“Hey. You got a problem, white boy?” one of the scraggly men asked from the sidewalk.
“Looks like you’re in the wrong part of town, cracker,” a raspy, deep voice said, pointing at Russell and the others.
Max snapped and barked at the men from the edge of the curb, but didn’t leave the sidewalk.
Clyde stayed close to the agitated canine’s side, holding his rifle in one hand and pointing at the young, hostile men with a stern finger. “Unless you want to end up dead on the street there, I’d suggest you turn around and leave us be.”
Russell lugged Cathy down the sidewalk, whistled, then said in a raised, stern tone, “Max. Heel.”
The German shepherd growled and refused to budge.
Cathy grimaced as they picked up the pace. She hollered at Max in a sharp voice. “Now, Max.”
Russell paused and peered over his shoulder.
Clyde grabbed Max by the collar and nudged the defensive canine in the side. Max bared his fangs, snapping at the men who drew closer to them.
“Clyde, move it,” Russell said.
“Yeah, we’re coming.”
The familiar sound of police sirens loomed in the distance.
Russell trained an ear toward the street, listening for the inbound cruisers. They sounded close, but he couldn’t tell for sure or from what direction the vehicles were heading.
Max turned away from the curb and rushed to Cathy’s side. Clyde hung back, watching the gangbangers as they looked for the authorities. They stayed on the curb for a moment, concealing their firearms.
“We need to lose these guys,” Russell said, aiding Cathy down the sidewalk toward the approaching alley.
Cathy grunted and drew sharp breaths through every painful stride they made. She bit back the discomfort in her wounded thigh and pushed on.
Russell skirted the blind corner, heading into the alley without slowing. Max matched them stride for stride.
“Are they still coming?” Russell asked, looking to the sides of the buildings for any place they could slip into.
Clyde yelled at the men from the entrance of the alley. Russell couldn’t hear what all he said, but gathered the point from the raised tone of Clyde’s hoarse voice and the colorful words he shouted.
“They’re still heading this way. They could be carrying some weapons,” Clyde said. “What’s the plan here? If they are carrying, they’re going to draw their guns sooner rather than later, and at that point, all bets are off.”
The sharp whining of the police sirens grew louder. It sounded closer, maybe a block or so away.
“I don’t know. Still looking,” Russell replied, hunting for an opening within the brick buildings.
“Hold on,” Clyde said, stopping.
Russell spotted a dark-brown door within one of the buildings about fifteen paces ahead of them. He turned with Cathy hanging on his shoulders. They stared at Clyde who pointed at the street.
“That prowler is heading this way, I think,” he said, glancing back at them.
“Good. Hopefully that’ll buy us some time and keep those gangsters from coming after us,” Russell shot back, panting.
The loud, boisterous whine closed in from the street.
Clyde held his rifle in both hands and close to his chest.
The cruiser flew past the alley, moving at a good clip and showed no signs of lingering for any length of time. If one blinked, they would’ve missed the white flash of the cruiser going by.
Clyde threw his hands into the air, then said, “Oh, come on. Really?”
“Let’s go,” Russell said, facing forward and getting back on the move. “How are you holding up, Cathy?”
Cathy grimaced, clenched her jaw, and fought to control her breathing. “I’m fine. Let’s find some place to lose them. I have no desire to fight or kill any young, stupid kids today.”
“You and me both,” Russell shot back.
They trudged down the alley side by side. Max stopped and growled. Heavy footfalls stalked them, followed by the splashing of water.
“They’re coming across the street,” Clyde warned.
Russell removed Cathy’s arm from over his shoulders, then squared off with the dented door. She leaned against the wall, facing the street. He tested the doorknob. Locked.
Clyde shouldered his rifle and trained it at the entrance of the alley. “You’ve got about a minute before things get real interesting.”
Cathy whistled and snapped her fingers at Max, trying to lure him to her. The German shepherd groaned and paced the alley, then ran to her side.
Russell rammed his shoulder against the door. It rattled inside the jamb, but didn’t give. He took two steps back and rushed it again. The door held firm. He slammed the door with the sole of his boot near the doorknob, dipped his shoulder, and ran into it one last time.
The door busted from the jamb and flew inside, revealing a dimly lit hallway that grew darker. Russell rubbed his shoulder, then reached out to Cathy. “Go. Get inside.”
Cathy limped her way inside the darkness–feeling with her hands stretched out in front of her.
Max lingered near the entrance to the building, staring in the direction of the street. He stood rigid, waiting for the gang bangers.
Russell nudged the canine’s muscular body with his knee, then snapped his fingers in front of him. “Go on, Max. Get inside.”
The German shepherd grumbled and took