Survive The Fall | Book 4 | Total Collapse

Boston. Their estranged marriage and the wedge of broken feelings from the passing of their murdered daughter seemed less important now than ever. She wanted Russell back and hoped he was coming.
Sarah looked at the fridge, then peered back to the cabinets. If she stayed at her folk’s home for the time being, it might give Russell a chance to find her. She could stay a few days at most, then she’d have to re-evaluate her options.
The scant amount of food left in the cabinets would not suffice in satisfying her empty stomach. Her knowledge of cooking without electricity and the dribble of water that leaked from the tap would not sustain her for long.
The nearest grocery store to her parent’s house was in downtown Dover. Walking there in her weakened state would prove challenging and dangerous if the people trying to find her got word. She needed a vehicle, not only for moving about the town, but for making a hasty getaway if the need called for it.
The garage, Sarah thought.
One of her parent’s vehicles had to be left inside. They wouldn’t have taken both.
Sarah left the kitchen, retrieved the Maglite, and marched to her parents’ bedroom. The gleam from the lens washed over the walls as she walked into the spacious room. She skirted the king size poster bed and the cherrywood cabinet, heading for the cavernous walk–in closet on the far side of the bedroom.
A sliver of sunlight shone through the slanted blinds and around the edges, illuminating the white closet door. She grabbed the chrome handle, turned, and pulled.
The heavy scent of lavender fled the dark, tepid, enclosed space. Her nose scrunched from the strong smell. She waved her hand in front of her face, trying to bat it away.
Sarah walked inside and searched for the basket her parents used to keep their keys in. The light shone down one side of the closet that spanned the length of the wall.
A tower of clothes lined the bars with no spaces or gaps between them. The other side was her father’s that had a fraction of the clothes hanging from the long white steel bars. Nestled in the corner around the wall she stood next to was her father’s gun safe that was still closed and secured.
Sarah searched the numerous shelves, sifting through the odds and ends her mother kept on them. She ventured toward the back of the closet and spotted a set of keys lying on the top shelf. She grabbed them.
A subtle knocking noise sounded from the far end of the home.
Sarah froze. Panic swelled inside of her. She held a bated breath.
The keys dangled in her hand. She shoved them into the front pocket of her pants. The shotgun was near the kitchen, far from her reach. She looked to her father’s small gun safe, then pulled the Glock from the waistband of her jeans.
The darkness of the closet closed in around her. The deafening silence grated on her frayed nerves. She gulped, then made her way toward the opened door with the Glock trained ahead of her.
Sarah craned her neck, searching and listening for any movement within the dimness near her parents’ large bed. She half expected to see a shadowy figure lurking in the low light, waiting for her.
The dark-skinned intruder crossed her mind first. Maybe he’d come back to exact revenge on her for pummeling his manhood. Afterall, her folks home had no close neighbors and any noise made would fall on deaf ears. Spencer and the other mob enforcers soon followed.
She toed the opening and skimmed over the room, but found no hints or further sounds creeping about in the home. The light washed over the comforter on the bed toward the large bathroom on the far side of the room.
The gleam reflected off the mirror. She moved the light to the side as far as she could while taking a small step out from the closet. She swept the light under the bed, then any other dark areas it could reach, finding nothing more than empty space.
Sarah clutched the grip of the Glock a hair tighter, wanting to make her way through the room and to the kitchen to grab the shotgun and duty bag as quick as she could. She waited a moment longer before moving, making sure she was not being baited into a trap.
Sunlight washed over the side of her face. Beads of sweat raced from her brow down to her chin. Her heart punched her chest with each step she took away from the closet. She kept to the walls, shining the light and Glock at the dark places that had already been investigated.
Sarah moved past the cherrywood cabinet and inched her way to the exit of the bedroom. She peered around the jamb to the hallway leading to the living room. It was free and clear of any threats.
The soles of her shoes squeaked over the floor. It seemed louder now than before. She cringed from each sound, but moved on just the same.
The living room had no signs of trouble or cause for suspicion. All seemed as it should in the dimness that swallowed the space.
Sarah moved to the corner of the entryway, then peered around the rounded bend of the wall. She glanced at the kitchen first, then shone the light at the laundry room. The door remained shut.
The noise that twisted her nerves vanished, making her wonder what caused the sound. She waited a few moments, listened close, and then stood at ease.
The flashlight in her hand lowered to her side as did the Glock. A deep breath of tension fled her lips in relief. The shotgun laid on the counter next to the duty bag, right where she’d left them.
Sarah walked toward the counter and thumbed the light off. She sat