Escape: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival series (Dark Road Book 2) by Bruno Miller

Author:Bruno Miller [Miller, Bruno]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wordstream Books
Published: 2018-06-06T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Ben took his hand off the passenger seat and put it back on the wheel.

Allie had a worried look on her face as she strained against the seatbelt to see what was going on behind them.

“We got this. It’ll be okay.” Ben tried to offer her some encouragement before giving the road his full attention. They had passed by their original goal—the corner of the next strip mall—and were now temporarily out of their pursuers line of sight.

“Joel, let me know when they come around that corner.” Ben was doing his best to avoid debris left behind from the amateur road crew and their ancient backhoe.

In some areas they had been too aggressive with the old machine and had dug up chunks of asphalt, creating a minefield of miniature craters and chunks of rubble. It seemed to get worse the farther Ben drove. They must have started clearing the road on this side of town before they figured out how to run the backhoe.

Ben was suddenly faced with a tough choice. He had to slow down or risk tearing the truck apart as it began to vibrate violently from the rough road. Joel would never be able to get a shot off like this, either, at least not one that would matter.

So much for outrunning the rednecks. Their only hope was to get to an unmolested part of the road that hadn’t been torn up by the idiots. They could make better time on the sections of road that were littered with wrecks than they could on this garbage.

“They’re at the intersection!” Joel shouted.

Ben looked back as he slowed the truck even more. There was no doubt in his mind that the rednecks would not slow down when they hit the rough section of road. But he wasn’t willing to push the Blazer to the breaking point, because without the truck, they were dead in the water. At this rate, their pursuers would catch up with them soon—or least get close enough, even in their inebriated state—to get a lucky shot off at them.

“Hang on!” Ben instructed, slamming on the brakes. The tires squealed as the truck slid to a halt at a 45-degree angle across the road. “We can’t outrun them and risk tearing the truck up. Better to stand our ground here.”

He reached back behind him and from under the rear seat pulled out the soft case containing his M24 rifle.

Ben was getting ready to tell Allie to get back behind the seat, but when he looked in her direction she was already working on it. He nodded at her before slipping out of the truck with the rifle.

He had the loaded gun out of its case and was already extending the feet of the bipod by the time he reached the front of the truck. Flipping the lids of the scope open, he laid the gun down across the hood, a place he’d been all too often lately, it seemed.

The pickup chasing them was still a little over half a mile away but closing fast.

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