Survive The Fall | Book 4 | Total Collapse

Cathy and Max, who rested in the back. “You good back there?”
Cathy gave a thumbs up.
“How are we doing on fuel?” Russell asked, leaning toward the center console and craning his neck.
Clyde poked the plastic covering the gauges. “We’re sitting a little over a half a tank. We’ll reach Philly with no problem.”
Russell looked at Clyde. “Hopefully we can find some fuel while we’re there.”
“We will. Gas pumps aren’t the only place to get fuel,” Clyde replied, winking.

CHAPTER THREE
 
 
SARAH
Sarah felt lucky to be alive, having slipped through the Irish mob’s fingers, and Bryce’s crew, though, she wasn’t out of the woods yet. Both had been hired by the same ruthless overseas drug lord, Valintino. Sarah was on his radar, and he showed no signs of letting her go.
Her hands tightened over the steering wheel of the Boston Police Cruiser, knuckles turning a milky white. Panted breaths escaped her mouth, her chest heaving with fear and adrenaline. Sarah mashed the gas pedal to the floor, heading for the street and away from the mob’s hideout.
She glanced at the rearview mirror, watching Spencer, her stalker and tormentor, drift farther away from the fleeing vehicle. He claimed that he longed to have Sarah for himself and protect her from those who wanted to do her harm, but he’d had a hand in her daughter’s death and ripping her family apart.
Spencer stopped, turned around, and ran back toward the BMW parked in the alley.
The cruiser drifted near the brick buildings Sarah drove alongside. Her eyes stayed glued to the mirror and Spencer, watching his every move. He opened fire on one of Bryce’s goons who came stumbling out of the mob boss’s building, hitting him center mass.
The front end of the squad car plowed through trash cans. The silver tinted lids popped free. Black bags of garbage flew from the insides and slammed the hood and windshield. They tumbled over the top and back down the trunk.
Sarah flinched, then wrenched the steering wheel counterclockwise. The passenger side mirror scraped over the rigid surface of the brick building. The cruiser cut across the alley, out of control, then sped out into the street.
The front end bottomed out over the slight dip in the road. She jerked the wheel again and pumped the brake to avoid a parked car across the street. The tires locked. The car skidded over the pavement. She gnashed her teeth and drew a sharp breath.
The cruiser missed the side of the small, white sedan and continued down the street. Sarah regained control. She kept the gas pedal pressed to the floor and the cruiser going full tilt. She battled her nerves, trying to calm down and focus her panic-filled mind.
The road ahead swarmed with people standing in the middle of the street, confronting what looked to be Boston PD and the military on the other side. The angry mob wielded bats, bricks, and anything else that could be used as a weapon. Fires had been set to cars that smoldered in the streets. Black smoke lifted into the sky. Shops had windows busted out and glass carpeting the sidewalks.
Sarah slammed the brakes, stopping the cruiser. A number of people toward the back of the raging mob turned and faced the squad car. They lifted their weapons in the air and charged the vehicle. Bricks hurled at the windshield, smashing against it. The impact cracked the glass as the mob closed in.
A panicked scream escaped Sarah’s mouth. She shifted the cruiser into reverse and hit the gas. Bats and crowbars hammered the hood of the vehicle as she backed away from the unruly heathens.
The horde of masked vandals chased after her, unwilling to let her get away.
Sarah’s gaze flitted to the rearview mirror, and she spotted the BMW bearing down on her. It didn’t move or drift to the far lane, but instead, it maintained its collision course with her.
The headlights drew closer. Sarah jerked the steering wheel, sending the back end of the cruiser toward the sidewalk.
The BMW clipped the front end on the passenger side of the squad car. Sarah lost control and plowed into a parked car near the curb. The crunching of metal filled her ears. The impact jolted her body. The seat belt snapped taut. The cruiser stalled.
Sarah closed her eyes, shook her head, then exhaled. Her body ached all over. Her lids opened. She peered out of the spiderwebbed windshield.
The swarm of people had dispersed, leaving the streets for the safety of the sidewalks.
The BMW sat across the street, parked at an angle with the trunk facing her. The red hue of the brake lights filled her eyes.
The door swung open.
Spencer stepped out and shook his head. The white ghost skull mask concealed his face. He held his piece in his right hand as he looked her way.
Sarah reached for the ignition and turned the engine over. It grumbled and whined, but didn’t start. She pumped the gas and tried again.
She hammered the top of the steering wheel with her palm. “Come on, damn it. Start.”
Spencer moved on the stalled cruiser, pistol in hand. He ventured into the middle of the street, attention focused on Sarah. He paused, then turned, staring down the road in the direction they’d come from. His arms lifted, bringing the pistol to bear.
Fire spat from the muzzle, each report muffled by the car. He popped off three shots before being plowed into by another car. His body rolled over the hood, then up the windshield. He tumbled over the roof, then down the trunk.
The black luxury sedan slammed its brakes and came to a skidding halt in the middle of the street. Sarah peered out of the passenger side window and craned her neck, but lost sight of Spencer’s body.
The driver’s side door