Restitution: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival series (The Dark Road series Book 8)

thought was how on earth she still smelled so good. It was also in that moment that he realized failure was not an option tonight.
She squeezed his hand hard before pulling away and smiling at him. Then, just as quickly as she had approached, she stepped back and crouched down by the door so the opening was at eye level. Joel stood motionless and stared at her for a second, wondering if that had really just happened or if he was dreaming.
“Hey. Hey, you,” Allie called out at just above a whisper through the slot in the door. At the sound of her voice, Joel snapped back to reality, and everything his dad told him about how to throw a good elbow came rushing into his head.
“Who’s that?” the guard answered. Joel could hear the guard walking toward the container as the crunch of dried leaves grew louder.
“Can I have a cigarette?” Allie asked, her voice a little louder this time but somehow softer. Hearing her talk to the guard this way made Joel a little sick. He knew it was all an act, but it made him uncomfortable nonetheless. He glanced toward the back of the container to see if he could spot his dad, but it was pitch black. He could barely see Allie, let alone the back of their musty prison cell.
Through the opening, the guard flashed a light on Allie’s face, and for a brief second, Joel caught a glimpse of his father crouched down near the back of the container as if he was at the starting line of a race, waiting for the pistol to sound. Then the light was gone, and all was dark again. Knowing his dad was ready to sprint into action gave Joel a boost of confidence. Not that he ever thought otherwise, but seeing him, even for just a second, was reassuring.
“Why should I give you one? You’re with them,” the guard huffed.
“You don’t know that for sure, do you?” Allie didn’t waste any time with her comeback. “Come on, just let me have one. They’re all sleeping.”
“I don’t know,” he said. She was getting somewhere with him. It was better than him flat-out saying no or going to get the other guard. This might actually happen. Then again, getting him to hand her a cigarette through the slot in the door and opening the container were two different things.
“Well, unless you’ll get in trouble, never mind. I just thought maybe you were in charge around here and could do what you wanted,” she taunted.
“I can do what I want. I just don’t trust you.” As the volume of his voice increased, so did the frequency of the slurred words. He’d had his share of the moonshine tonight. He was so loud that Joel was afraid the other guard would hear him and come to investigate. He couldn’t take out two guys with guns on his own. His dad was ready but not close enough for that scenario to go very well for any of them.
“How do I know you’re not gonna try to start a fire or somethin’?” he stammered.
“Now why would I do that? Why would I want to hurt myself? I just want a smoke.”
“I dunno.” The guard’s moonshine-induced mental state wasn’t up for the debate, and Joel could tell he was starting to give in.
“You could let me out of here and keep an eye on me while I smoke if you want. I won’t try anything. Promise.” And there it was. Allie’s attempt at convincing him to open the door couldn’t have been any blunter, but in the guard’s inebriated state, it might just work.
Joel could hear a loud sigh as the guard debated his predicament, then silence. He wasn’t falling for it. They were going to be stuck in here all night. Joel was disappointed and a little relieved all at the same time. Disappointed that they were going to spend the night cooped up in here and that he wouldn’t get his chance to right a wrong against him and Allie, and relieved in a small way for the same reasons. However, he was amped up now and as ready as he was ever going to be to face off against an armed man in hand-to-hand combat.
Suddenly, Joel’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of keys jingling, followed by the rattle of the chain wrapped around the door lever. It was happening. His breath grew short and rapid, and his mouth was so dry he had trouble swallowing. But that was hardly important now as he carefully brought his hand up to his chest, planting his thumb against his body but being sure to leave his hand open. His dad had said that something about keeping the hand open prevented the muscles in the forearm from constricting, therefore exposing the sharpest part of the bone. It was time to see if this was going to work.
“Back up,” the guard whispered. Allie stood up all the way and took a few steps back, making sure to keep her eyes on the guard.
From the core, the core, pivot, pivot. The words ran through his mind as he pictured himself ramming his elbow into another person’s neck. What would it feel like? Would he feel something snap or break? What if he didn’t deliver the blow with enough force and failed to take the guy out? But there was no more time to think, only enough time to try and swallow one more time. As the door started to open, Joel came to the realization that he was seconds away from the action.
Either the guard was stupid or just drunk enough to carelessly put one foot into the container without looking around first. He was carrying the same AR-15 that he had belted Joel with this morning. He relaxed his stance and lowered the rifle, holding it loosely at his side while he struggled to pull the flashlight from his pants pocket.
Once the guard had