Survive The Fall | Book 4 | Total Collapse

against the wall next to Sarah. Her foot nudged the silver-headed hammer on the floor. It clattered over the tile and hit the board, knocking it over as she inspected the missing glass.
Sarah flinched, then sighed. Her lips squeezed the nails tighter as she closed her eyes. Being on edge kept her alert, but it also drained her–both mentally and physically.
The flashlight on the floor shined at the ceiling in the entryway, offering a bit more light to the darkened hallway. She grabbed the long-black barrel of the Maglite she found inside the duty bag and tried to focus it on the area she worked on.
It wobbled about and tipped over, clanging off the tiles. Frustration built, causing her to grumble and curse under her breath. She turned it off, then opened the other side of the French doors.
Sarah grabbed the hammer, then the small piece of wood she’d found in her father’s workshop. It was larger than the gaping hole in the door. Sarah placed it at an angle, covering the jagged fragments that remained. She pulled a nail from her mouth and hammered the plank of wood into the narrow space between the panes of glass.
Each strike of the hammer on the head of the nail rattled the door against the jamb. Sarah paused, then craned her neck, making sure she was hitting the wood between the glass.
The first nail secured the board to the door. Sarah added three more in the corners. She stood and took a step back, studying the hack job she’d completed.
The board looked rickety on the door, but it stayed put and seemed solid enough. It would do enough to calm her nerves and set her mind at ease.
Sarah sat the hammer down, grabbed the broom and dust pan leaning against the wall close to her, and cleaned up the mess on the floor. She closed the opened door, then dumped the glass into the silver trash can in the kitchen.
Her stomach growled, then rumbled. She felt nauseous and lightheaded. The inside of her mouth was dry–gums tacky to the touch. She set the broom and dust pan down, then dipped her chin. Her hand pressed to her face. She took a deep breath, held it for a second, then exhaled it slowly.
Food lingered in her thoughts, among the other numerous problems she faced. Her folks always kept a stocked pantry, though, with them being gone, and having shared some with the man from earlier, she wasn’t sure if that was the case now.
Sarah tossed the broom and dust pan into the laundry room, then checked the kitchen for any food. Cabinet after cabinet was checked in haste as the nausea blossomed inside her. Most sat empty of anything that didn’t need to be cooked in some form. Noodles, bags of pinto beans, and white rice met her hungry eyes.
The doors slammed against the cabinets. The sharp report filled the empty house. Her fists pounded the counter as she struggled to think with a clear mind. She needed food and water, among a laundry list of other things.
Sarah moved down the counter and checked the last cabinet in the corner that had any hopes of storing food. She opened the solid wood door and peered inside. A box sat in the murk in the back corner. The darkness concealed the name on the outside. She reached inside, grabbed the box, and pulled it out.
It felt mostly empty. Sarah took the orangish looking box toward what bit of light shined through the kitchen window, then shook it.
Protein bars rattled in the box. Two from what she could tell. She ripped the top open, dumped the bars onto the counter, then tossed the empty box to the far corner next to the coffee maker.
Sarah tore into the first package and devoured the bar without much thought. The chocolate and peanut butter flavored meal made her taste buds dance with joy as she savored every bite. She discarded the empty wrapper and ate the other bar, post–haste.
The grumbling of her stomach lessened. She turned, leaned against the counter, and closed her eyes, feeling a bit more satisfied.
Her lids cracked open. She peered at the kitchen island and the remnants of the empty bags of chips and other morsels the intruder partook of.
A half empty bottle of water caught her eye among the packages. She swallowed the remains of the protein bar. Her tongue danced across her lips, longing for a drink of water.
Sarah pushed away from the edge of the counter and scooped up the water bottle. She stared at the liquid, unconcerned with the fact that the home invader had already drunk from the bottle.
Her fingers twisted the clear cap from the top, then hurled it to the slate countertop. The plastic cap pinged off the surface, then rolled to the floor on the far side.
Sarah chugged the water in three big gulps. Tiny lines of the refreshing liquid raced from the corners of her lips and down her chin. She wiped the wetness away with the back of her hand, then tossed the empty bottle to the trash.
The empty packages of food were hauled to the wastebasket and the counters cleaned. Sarah wanted to leave their home as they’d left it. She stood against the kitchen island, deep in thought and staring off into space, wondering what to do next.
The house had already been cleared and secured, as much as Sarah could. All doors were locked and blinds drawn to keep the illusion of no one being there. Still, that did little to ease her mind.
Russell popped into her thoughts, replacing the numerous threats that had plagued her for the past few days. She wondered if he was safe or even alive for that matter. If he thought about her at all and was trying to get back to