Read Online Grid Down: A Strike against America – An EMP Survival Story- Book One by Roger Hayden - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Roger Hayden
Ads: Link
Enough for one haul. With their bags filled, they left the room and headed back downstairs.
The satisfied group moved quickly to the first floor and past the lobby to the exit. Mila stopped and took one last look around, hoping for better days on the horizon.
They slipped through the double doors again and made it outside, taking in the fresh air. Carlos and Brad were waiting, leaning against the tailgate of their truck.
“You’re late,” Carlos said, looking at his bare wrist.
Brad spit the taste of gasoline from his mouth. “Did you bring some breath mints?”
“Sorry. Couldn’t find any,” Rob answered. “We good to go on fuel?”
“Twenty gallons in the tank,” Carlos answered. “You’re welcome.”
“Thank you,” Mila said with gracious undertones. “We owe you one.”
“You got that right,” Carlos said.
With bags in hand, Peter and Rob went to both sides of the truck and opened the doors. Carlos asked Mila about what kind of supplies they’d found.
“Lots of things. Just what we needed. We were very lucky.”
Peter placed his bag inside and leaned on the door. “You wouldn’t believe what that place looks like inside.”
Brad and Carlos seemed intrigued and looked at Mila to elaborate. She waved Peter off.
“It was nothing. Some vandalism—broken windows. Holes in the wall. That kind of thing. The place is deserted in there.”
“Don’t forget to mention the dead bodies,” Peter said.
Their eyes widened. “Dead bodies?” Carlos said.
“Let’s go,” Rob said and climbed into the driver’s seat. “We have more places to hit up.”
Mila approached the passenger’s side with Peter as Carlos and Brad followed.
“Hey, bro. How about you let me ride up front for a while?” Carlos said.
Peter turned around slightly. “Sorry, Carlos. I have to ride up here. The wind isn’t good for my… uh, allergies.”
Carlos and Brad looked at each other suspiciously.
“How convenient,” Carlos said.
“Let’s go!” Rob called out from the driver’s seat. “Time’s wasting.”
He stuck his keys in the ignition when a shot suddenly echoed through the air, shattering the passenger-side window. An implosion of shards slashed through Peter’s right hand. He stood frozen in shock and stared at his bloody hand. But everyone else kicked into high gear.
Mila fell to the pavement and rolled under the truck. Rob ducked down and looked into the rearview mirror. Two men with long hunting rifles were running through the parking lot straight toward them.
“Take cover!” he shouted.
Carlos grabbed Peter and yanked him to the back bumper, where Brad had rolled. A trail of blood followed them as Peter clutched his ravaged hand, shaking. Another shot fired, blasting out the front windshield.
Rob dropped down and buried his face in the vinyl seat as bits of glass rained on his head. He pulled his pistol and waited while listening to the sound of the men’s footsteps running across the pavement.
“Everyone just stay down,” he said as quietly as he could.
“What’s going on?” Carlos seethed. “Who’s shooting at us?”
“Ah! My hand. Oh my God!” Peter cried out. His tote bag of medical supplies lay on the ground with its contents spilled all over the pavement.
“It’s OK, man,” Brad said, trying to console Peter. “You’re going to be all right.”
Mila stayed flat on the ground and pulled her pistol out. She could see the men as they moved carefully between parked cars while getting closer with each advancement. From her position she couldn’t get a good shot at them unless they got closer.
She could see their faces; they were void of emotion. The two men both had thick, bushy beards, hats, and green-and-black camouflage gear. If they were hunters, there was no question who their prey was.
Rob rose just enough to peek over the dashboard. The men had high-powered scopes affixed to their rifles. He ducked back down as sweat dripped from his forehead.
The two men
The satisfied group moved quickly to the first floor and past the lobby to the exit. Mila stopped and took one last look around, hoping for better days on the horizon.
They slipped through the double doors again and made it outside, taking in the fresh air. Carlos and Brad were waiting, leaning against the tailgate of their truck.
“You’re late,” Carlos said, looking at his bare wrist.
Brad spit the taste of gasoline from his mouth. “Did you bring some breath mints?”
“Sorry. Couldn’t find any,” Rob answered. “We good to go on fuel?”
“Twenty gallons in the tank,” Carlos answered. “You’re welcome.”
“Thank you,” Mila said with gracious undertones. “We owe you one.”
“You got that right,” Carlos said.
With bags in hand, Peter and Rob went to both sides of the truck and opened the doors. Carlos asked Mila about what kind of supplies they’d found.
“Lots of things. Just what we needed. We were very lucky.”
Peter placed his bag inside and leaned on the door. “You wouldn’t believe what that place looks like inside.”
Brad and Carlos seemed intrigued and looked at Mila to elaborate. She waved Peter off.
“It was nothing. Some vandalism—broken windows. Holes in the wall. That kind of thing. The place is deserted in there.”
“Don’t forget to mention the dead bodies,” Peter said.
Their eyes widened. “Dead bodies?” Carlos said.
“Let’s go,” Rob said and climbed into the driver’s seat. “We have more places to hit up.”
Mila approached the passenger’s side with Peter as Carlos and Brad followed.
“Hey, bro. How about you let me ride up front for a while?” Carlos said.
Peter turned around slightly. “Sorry, Carlos. I have to ride up here. The wind isn’t good for my… uh, allergies.”
Carlos and Brad looked at each other suspiciously.
“How convenient,” Carlos said.
“Let’s go!” Rob called out from the driver’s seat. “Time’s wasting.”
He stuck his keys in the ignition when a shot suddenly echoed through the air, shattering the passenger-side window. An implosion of shards slashed through Peter’s right hand. He stood frozen in shock and stared at his bloody hand. But everyone else kicked into high gear.
Mila fell to the pavement and rolled under the truck. Rob ducked down and looked into the rearview mirror. Two men with long hunting rifles were running through the parking lot straight toward them.
“Take cover!” he shouted.
Carlos grabbed Peter and yanked him to the back bumper, where Brad had rolled. A trail of blood followed them as Peter clutched his ravaged hand, shaking. Another shot fired, blasting out the front windshield.
Rob dropped down and buried his face in the vinyl seat as bits of glass rained on his head. He pulled his pistol and waited while listening to the sound of the men’s footsteps running across the pavement.
“Everyone just stay down,” he said as quietly as he could.
“What’s going on?” Carlos seethed. “Who’s shooting at us?”
“Ah! My hand. Oh my God!” Peter cried out. His tote bag of medical supplies lay on the ground with its contents spilled all over the pavement.
“It’s OK, man,” Brad said, trying to console Peter. “You’re going to be all right.”
Mila stayed flat on the ground and pulled her pistol out. She could see the men as they moved carefully between parked cars while getting closer with each advancement. From her position she couldn’t get a good shot at them unless they got closer.
She could see their faces; they were void of emotion. The two men both had thick, bushy beards, hats, and green-and-black camouflage gear. If they were hunters, there was no question who their prey was.
Rob rose just enough to peek over the dashboard. The men had high-powered scopes affixed to their rifles. He ducked back down as sweat dripped from his forehead.
The two men
Similar Books
