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

of earshot, Kyle headed to the supply room, where he picked up a rusty crowbar. If he couldn’t pick the lock, he’d do his best to leverage it open.

Back at the door, he studied the lock. There were scratches near the keyhole where Derek and his father had tried to pick it. A thin metal wire hung out of it. His father had abandoned it in frustration.

Kyle set the crowbar down. He put his ear against the door and tried to move the tumblers. Luke complained that he couldn’t hear the tumblers falling into place, so he couldn’t tell whether he was making progress. Kyle realized his young ears were much sharper than his father’s because he could hear the clicks as plain as day.

But it didn’t make it any easier.

He would move a tumbler up, then go to work on the next, only to have the first click back into place. Sweat broke out on his brow. Frustration boiled in his belly, but Kyle forced himself not to throw a fit. Children threw fits. He wasn’t a child anymore.

At last, he heard the last click. The handle jerked down. The door opened about three inches before getting stuck. Kyle grabbed the door. He leaned back, pulling with all his might, but it didn’t budge.

After a few more frustrating attempts, he slapped himself in the head. The crowbar! He picked up the tool and thrust the bent end through the narrow opening. As he pulled, his arms burned. He was about to give up when the door swung out three feet. It was more than enough room for him to squeeze through.

Kyle stepped into a large chamber, and his footsteps echoed off the walls. He set down the crowbar, then extracted a flashlight and turned it on. He swung the beam around. When he saw a dozen old-fashioned three-wheeled ATVs, mouth dropping open.

“Wow! This is awesome!”

He brushed the dust off a vinyl seat and climbed onto one. Kyle was delighted to find the keys in the ignition. Unfortunately, nothing happened when he attempted to turn the engine over.

Kyle dismounted his would-be ride in frustration. He explored the rest of the room. It seemed to be a garage. There were pits in the floor, so it would be easier to work on the underside of vehicles. A rusted engine dangled from a pair of chains. A variety of tools lined one of the walls.

He found a light switch and flicked it on. Once the room was fully illuminated, he realized that there was another exit, a large set of bay doors.

“Well, duh. Of course, they wouldn’t move their vehicles out through the shelter itself,” he muttered.

His heart beat harder when he realized the bay doors probably led outside. Unlike the previous door, these weren’t rusted shut. He was able to shove them open with only minor effort.

However, rather than standing under the nighttime sky, he found himself staring into a cave. Efforts had been made to smooth a path for the vehicles. Kyle noted old tire tracks. If he followed them, he might be able to find another exit.

Kyle walked down the tunnel for a while. In several spots, it had clearly been widened to accommodate the passage of vehicles. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking, but it felt like a long time.

Eventually, he became aware of an odd sound, similar to thunder. It hadn’t rained in days, and it never thundered when it was snowing. It was super weird. He almost turned back, but he refused to give in to his fear. He needed to know what was at the end of the tunnel. Depending on what he found, he might have to seal it off.

Kyle came around a bend. He spotted a patch of starry sky at the end of the tunnel. Now the thunder resolved itself into something with which he was all too familiar: gunfire.

The cave had let him out near the cult’s compound. The same place where his parents were even now fighting for their lives.

Kyle stood in the mouth of the cave for a moment. Then he hurried out into the open. He skidded down a steep slope, half on his butt and half taking stumbling steps. As soon as he hit even ground, he took off at a run, heading towards the sounds of battle.

Fear of death gripped him, but not as tightly as the fear of losing his parents. He couldn’t lose his family. The thought of life without them terrified him more than any boogeyman or closet monster ever had when he was a young child.

Kyle made it to the edge of the lake. He watched as Derek shot a man out of the second-story window. Then he was pinned down for a moment until someone sent a payload of bullets at the cultists bearing down on him.

Kyle was delighted to see that his parents were responsible. Derek reloaded his weapon and fired back at the cult members. Kyle stood, hiding in the bushes, waiting for the right moment to strike. He pulled his knife from its sheath and stalked forward.

26

Luke crouched behind the boulder, pulled another magazine out of his backpack, and reloaded. He was running dangerously low on ammo. If he ran out, he’d have no way to protect Liz.

He managed to take out another dozen men. Several cultists retreated into the compound, leaving six left to defend the exterior. Although he didn’t have a good count of their total numbers, he finally felt like they were making a dent in their fortification.

However, he worried about what he didn’t know. There could be dozens more inside. He had to go back in and find out how many were left.

“Are they retreating?” Liz asked.

“Don’t count on it. We don’t know how many others they have inside. We don’t know if they’re circling behind us right now.”

He spotted movement near the compound.

“Where the hell is Derek going?” Liz jerked her head toward their ally.

A bullet pinged off the rock.