As the Ash Fell by Powers AJ

Author:Powers, AJ [Powers, AJ]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Post-Apocalyptic | Dystopian
Published: 2015-04-30T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Clay woke up to the sound of a locking door. Since there were no windows in the room, it was nearly pitch black, but Dusty was carrying a flashlight. She walked over to a table and lit a few candles and a hanging lantern.

“I just looked outside; it stopped snowing. You should be able to leave today,” she said.

Clay couldn’t tell if she was just giving him a weather report or an eviction notice. It made no difference anyhow; he needed to get back on the move as soon as possible. He tried to sit up, but his body cruelly reminded him of the beating he took last night. He grimaced and fished for some pills to help with the swelling—this time some ibuprofen from his first aid kit which was getting a lot of use since he found his way into this school.

Dusty handed him his pistol, “Sorry, I forgot to give this back to you last night.”

Clay took it. The shell was still jammed in the port which he promptly cleared. He vaguely remembered the last shot having a much weaker sound to it; an indication of an undercharge. He wasn’t sure if it was his reload or Charlie’s—it didn’t matter.

He unzipped his bag and pulled out the book he found in the locker. “I grabbed this before I knew anyone lived here. I wouldn’t feel right just taking it.” He handed it to her.

“You keep it,” she said and gently pushed the book back at him, “Don’t know how to read anyway.”

Clay wasn’t about to let her have the bottle of liquor; he didn’t feel guilty about hiding that from her.

“Is that a .22 over there?” Clay asked, pointing at the lever action rifle she had.

“Yep. It was my Grandpa’s. Found it up in the attic with a box of bullets shortly after my parents died. It used to be my Grandpa’s house, so I am not even sure they knew it was up there. My dad was terrified of guns. My mom said she knew how shoot them but never seemed interested.”

“Where’d you learn to shoot?”

“The neighbor,” she said with no further explanation.

Clay walked over to the rifle and saw there was only a few dozen rounds left in the brick sitting on the bedside table. He reached into his pack and pulled out a quart-sized Ziploc bag filled with various calibers of bullets inside. He began to sift through them, picking out a few.

Dusty gave him a puzzled look. She was by no means an expert in firearms, but she could tell there were at least a dozen different calibers in the bag, plus a handful of shotgun shells. “Sooooo, you just carry around a bag of bullets to guns that aren’t actually with you?” she quipped.

As he plucked a few more cartridges out of the bag, he replied “If you’re not always prepared, you’re never prepared. My father told me that all the time as a kid. I never gave it much thought before, but now I never leave home without thinking about it.

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