Survive The Fall | Book 4 | Total Collapse

windows. They pressed their hands to the glass. The pistols they carried clattered against the surface. The thick gold and silver chains dangling from their necks swung with any movement they made.
Move on. Don’t come inside, Russell thought, not wanting to confront the thugs.
The two young men glanced at each other, then down the hallway. They bickered loudly enough for Russell to hear their muffled voices through the glass.
Russell looked to the office where Max and Cathy hid in, then back to the entrance.
The tall, gaunt man closest to the stairwell adjusted the black Eagles ballcap that sat crooked on his head, then tucked the gold chain inside his tank top. He grabbed at the top of his sagging jeans, pulled them farther up on his waist, then tapped the barrel of his heater against the glass.
His smaller, thin companion shrugged, scratched at the scraggly hairs growing around the dark skin of his angular chin, then pushed the door open.
“We’ll check this office out first, then move on. They have to be close by,” Gold Chain said, stepping around his partner. He pointed to the far wall around where Clyde was hiding. “Check over there. I’ll search this area.”
The two men split up, searching the office with their pistols sweeping the periphery of the space.
Russell crouched and moved to the opening in the middle of the cubicle. He toed the edge of the corner, then peered through the center to the entrance.
Gold Chain vanished from sight, walking in the direction of the office where Max and Cathy hid. “You in here, white boy?”
Russell stayed low and moved between the desk and chairs positioned against the walls of the cubicles. He took a knee behind the small piece of wall next to the desk and chair.
Adrenaline spiked through Russell’s body–heart racing from the unknown. His tongue slid over his dry, coarse lips. He took a deep breath, and peered around the bend.
Gold Chain had his back to Russell, sweeping the far side of the office. He paused, looked around and listened, then moved on.
His partner ventured closer to the room where Clyde hid in. The rail-thin man swept the dark spaces with his pistol. He turned and looked about, peering around the cubicles near him, and closed in on Clyde’s position.
Russell glanced at the entrance for the other two hoodlums, but didn’t spot any movement beyond the glass.
Gold Chain drew closer to the office.
His partner inched his way toward the dark room, his piece trained at the entrance of the opened doorway.
Here we go.
Russell lost sight of him from the large plant positioned near the corner of the cubicle he walked past. The leafy branches of what Russell could only assume was a fake plant blocked his view. He waited and braced for a report of gunfire or sounds of struggle.
A dense thud hit the floor, loud enough for Russell to hear.
Gold Chain paused, turned around, and looked for the source. “T-Dog. You all right, bro?”
No response.
Gold Chain lingered near the office Cathy and Max resided in. The pistol in his hand trembled. He paced about the floor, craned his neck, and searched for his partner.
Russell held his position and watched, waiting for him to make his move.
Gold Chain ventured away from the office and headed in T-Dog’s and Clyde’s direction. “Come on, bro. Stop messing around. Now’s not the time to be playing. We have business that needs to be handled.”
A clatter sounded. He flinched, paused, then looked to the entrance, then the far corner of the office.
Russell remained hidden behind the small wall, watching Gold Chain with the hopes that he’d cut his losses and leave.
The young thug rubbed his chin, turned the pistol sideways, and continued on. He took three steps closer to the cubicle.
A subtle bark rang out.
Shit.
“I knew they were in here.” Gold Chain turned back around and headed for the office Cathy and Max were in.
Russell stood, slipped around the edge of the cubicle, and stalked the thug. He stayed low and trained the Ruger at Gold Chain’s back. His finger pressed against the trigger guard as he exhaled through his nostrils.
A horn from outside blared, followed by what sounded like something crashing. The floor vibrated under their feet.
Gold Chain stopped and looked toward the windows.
Russell parroted the gesture, taking his eyes off the gaunt man before him for a split second.
“What the–” Gold Chain flinched from the sight of Russell being so close. He jerked his pistol in Russell’s direction and squeezed the trigger.
A single round fired from the small, black piece he held in his hand as he backed away.
Russell ducked and moved to the side, away from the gunshot.
The bullet went wide, striking the frosted glass at the top of the cubicle Russell hid within. Tiny shards rained to the floor, clattering off the desk and surface of the partition.
Footfalls trampled the floor at Russell’s back. He rushed the back-peddling thug, focusing on his wide eyes and gaping mouth. Russell knocked the thug’s arm wielding the gun toward the floor as another round fired near his leg.
The bullet punched the carpet. Russell hammered Gold Chain’s wrist with the bottom of the Ruger. The piece dropped from Gold Chain’s hand and hit the ground.
Gold Chain grabbed Russell’s arm, keeping him from bringing the Ruger to bear. He dipped his shoulder, leaned into Russell, and pushed against him.
Max barked louder from the office.
Clyde flanked Russell with his .38 Special, searching for a clean shot.
“Give it up, kid,” Russell said through a strained breath, pulling at his arm. “You’re not getting this gun.”
“I can’t get a–” Footfalls rushed the office space from the hallway. Clyde turned and fired at the entrance of the office. The .38 Special barked its harsh