Edge of Fear: An EMP Post-Apocalyptic Survival Prepper Series (American Fallout Book 3) by Alex Gunwick (rooftoppers .txt) 📕

as hell couldn’t light a fire. It would draw too much attention. Anyone in the wood would be able to see the smoke. He couldn’t stay, so he had to take a quick peek and get the hell out of there.

Praying that he wouldn’t step on a snake, he waded through damp leaves. They clung to his boots. Mud sucked at his feet. It was slow going and harder than he’d anticipated.

He blew out a frustrated breath before summoning all his energy. He bounded forward, stumbling through the brush. Elated by his sudden progress, he redoubled his efforts. But before he’d made it halfway across the divide, he caught sight of a deep depression of leaves. A shallow.

“Shit!”

His feet went out from under him. Snow and leaves crunched and gave way. He twisted around to grasp desperately at the nearest bush. His hand caught hold of a narrow, flimsy branch, but it slipped through his fingers as he scrambled to regain his balance. A few sparse leaves tore free as he slid feet-first down the ravine.

Panic seized him as he grabbed unsuccessfully for a handhold. The drop hadn’t appeared too treacherous based on a quick glimpse, but with a coating of snow over everything, there could be any number of hazards beneath the surface.

Before he had time to further contemplate his fate, his feet jammed into the ground. He somersaulted backward. When he finally came to rest on his knees, his lungs heaved. His heart pounded as adrenaline surged through his veins. He brushed leaves out of his hair and off his jacket. The pungent odor of rot stifled his breath.

He stood on shaky legs. One of his ankles screamed when he tried to put weight on it. Most likely a light sprain, it would probably swell up later.

“Dammit!”

Everything hurt, but nothing else seemed to stand out. He prodded the major areas of concern with an investigative finger or an exploratory squeeze. His elbow hurt where it had hit a rock somewhere along the way. Same for his right knee. His tailbone might have been bruised when he’d fallen back on it after his feet had caught at the bottom.

Overall, it wasn’t a bad outcome, considering his stupidity. He should have waited until morning to return. In his haste, he’d almost broken his damn neck. No one knew he was out here. If he had broken a leg or even an ankle, they probably wouldn’t have found his body before the spring thaw. Well, if there was a spring thaw.

“Don’t get stupid, you fool.” He berated himself for his recklessness with a shake of his head. Then he smiled and let out a chuckle and low whistle. “Boy, that could’ve been really bad.”

He shifted his weight onto his sore ankle and winced. It was already starting to stiffen, but he’d walked on far worse in the past. As long as he kept it limber, he could make it back to the cabin.

After checking to make sure nothing had fallen out of his pockets or his pack in the tumble, he glanced up the ravine’s walls. It had to be about a twenty-five-foot climb. He sighed.

Trying to climb up the slippery slope wouldn’t work. He’d have to find another way out. After taking several steps, he groaned. His ankle wouldn’t make it more than a few hundred yards, tops. It was worse than he’d thought it was.

He hobbled in a circle while assessing his options. In the distance, he spotted a small stack of stones near the base of the mountain, several hundred yards from the entrance to the shelter. A small overhang shielded the stones from the snow. His heart leapt as he limped closer.

A rock cairn. Usually, people used them to mark a trail or some other landmark, but there weren’t any trails near here. Who would want to pass through this isolated ravine anyway? And yet, here it was.

He peered under the overhang. It was shallow, barely deep enough to shield the small cairn from falling snow. Lucky, somebody had the foresight to build it under here, or else Derek might’ve missed it altogether.

Though he was convinced he was in the right place, he couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary near the cairn. All he could see was solid rock. The setting sun made his search difficult. The entire ravine lay in shadows.

He felt his way down the wall. He knocked against it in a couple of places, only to be disappointed by the dull sound of knuckles cracking against unyielding stone.

About twenty paces from the cairn, his fingers brushed against something round set into the rock about three feet above the ground. His breath caught in his chest. He ran his fingers back over it to feel the metal outline.

He squinted at the darkening wall and found a rounded half-circle of rusted metal. He knocked against the rock and was thrilled by the semi-hollow sound. He marveled at the texture, which was nearly identical to the rock into which it was set.

He pried at the metal ring, but it wouldn’t budge under his cold fingers. His dexterity had already deteriorated in the plummeting temperature. His hands shook in anticipation. He unfolded his pocketknife and wedged the point under the ring’s edge to pry the rusty thing off the surface of the artificial rock.

He worked his fingers under the ring until it stuck out enough to where he could get a good grip on it. He wrapped both hands around the metal handle before jerking it back towards his body.

Nothing.

He repositioned himself and grabbed hold of the ring again. He pulled on it with every ounce of strength he could muster, straining his arm and back muscles to no avail.

Getting more frustrated by the second, he braced his foot against the rock and growled with exertion.

A loud grinding sound filled the air. He stumbled backward as something gave and a section of the wall swung open.

He had no time to celebrate. A soft gasp issued from above