Final Panic_A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller by Ryan Westfield

Author:Ryan Westfield [Westfield, Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-27T07:00:00+00:00

17

Rob

Rob knocked on the door. It felt strange to do so. It felt like he was being overly polite. After all, the world as they all had known it was over. Wasn’t knocking a little antiquated at this point?

Or maybe not.

After all, he didn’t want to get shot.

Maybe going in with his hand on his gun wasn’t the best move. Sure, he had to be careful. But drawing first could lead to problems. Serious problems.

He had to really force his hand to relax its grip on his gun. It wasn’t an easy thing for him to do.

“Someone?” Rob heard, called loudly, from deep inside the house.

And then silence.

Rob knocked again.

Someone was moving inside the house, unseen behind the thick door.

“I mean no harm!” shouted Rob, as loudly as he could. “I’m looking for my friend. I just need some information.”

A long silence.

Rob knocked again. He wasn’t going to give up so easily.

He figured that if he hadn’t been shot yet, chances were they weren’t going to shoot him. If he’d stumbled on the wrong house with the wrong inhabitants, they could have easily aimed down at him from an upstairs window with a shotgun.

“I’m just looking for my friend! Just tell me through the window. Will you just come to the window?”

Rob was feeling now like he wasn’t going to give up.

Rob banged on the door, and he didn’t stop. He just kept going.

Five minutes passed, and he kept banging.

Finally, the door opened.

It happened all of a sudden, and his hand went right through the open doorway, colliding with something.

“Shit,” muttered someone.

“Did I hit you?”

Rob felt his hand inching towards his gun.

Starting off by hitting the homeowner wasn’t exactly good. It wasn’t the first impression that Rob had hoped to make.

“Are you OK? Did I get you bad?”

He still couldn’t see who he’d accidentally hit.

“I’m fine, damnit. Get inside. I don’t like to keep the door open.”

It seemed strange, after so much trouble, to suddenly be allowed access to the home. Especially considering that they didn’t even ask him who he was, or whether or not he was armed.

There wasn’t much light near the door, and Rob stepped across the threshold, his eyes not yet adjusted to the new levels of light.

“Does it hurt?” said Rob.

“I’ve had worse. Don’t build yourself up too much, you’re not that strong. Hell, I could knock you down with a single punch if I had to. I doubt you could say the same.”

It was a man’s voice in the darkness. An old voice. But how old, Rob didn’t know.

Rob didn’t know what to make of the words. Were they meant as threats? As jokes? All bets were off in this new world. Anything could happen.

“Take a seat. Don’t wear out your shoes. You’re probably going to need them at some point. Now what’s this all about? Wait, just know that we’re not going to feed you. You’re on your own with that, young man.”

Rob was more and more starting to feel like he was speaking to a man who had to be at least in his eighties.

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