Gray Skies: Book 3 in the Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series: (Darkness Rising - Book 3) by Justin Bell & Mike Kraus

Author:Justin Bell & Mike Kraus [Bell, Justin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Muonic Press Inc
Published: 2018-04-15T22:00:00+00:00

***

The engine roared as the bright orange truck crested the low slope of paved hill, then veered downward towards the off-ramp, the tall, wide sign for the Lakeview Mall looming up over the two-lane highway.

“I don’t think Karl’s gonna be real happy,” growled Nate Prescott from the driver’s seat as he eased the large, cumbersome vehicle into the entrance and towards the vast, four-section parking lot.

“Karl will just havta learn to get over it,” replied Bruce Cavendish. He sat in the passenger seat of the huge truck, his arm bent and resting on the opened sill of the window. Bruce glanced out the rearview mirror and saw two pick-up trucks cruising along behind them, the vague shapes of men in the front windshields.

“We leave our van behind?” Cavendish asked.

Nate nodded. “Yep. Leaving no stone unturned.”

The truck was construction vehicle orange, a bright and visible swath of Detroit steel, the dual angled plow on the front bolted into a “V” shape. Shreds of plastic and torn metal were wrapped around the blades of the plow, a thick, ragged chunk of what looked to be exhaust manifold wedged in between the blunt face of the hood and the sloped blade.

“Well, then sounds like Karl can kiss our asses, huh?”

“Man, I dunno, Bruce. The guys that run with him…I don’t scare easily, but they kinda give me the willies.”

Bruce didn’t reply, but secretly, he’d been a little intimidated himself. Karl Green wasn’t someone he’d run into much, even with his work in the West Plains Militia, but he was the kind of guy who had a reputation. A reputation so outlandish that it made him seem more like a made up boogey man designed to frighten fresh-faced preppers, and less like a real person. But he was real, and on the face of it he appeared just as hard and sharp as the rumors suggested. From what Bruce had heard, he’d had family in Waco during the standoff with ATF, and he thought he’d heard that one of his older brothers actually died in that conflict. What role that played in his shift towards anti-government Bruce wasn’t sure, but it likely didn’t help.

The plow truck eased to a stop in front of the main entrance of the shopping mall, which had been heading towards desolation even before the nuclear attacks from over a month prior. Most of the anchor stores had long since left, and the smaller shops struggled to pay rent and finance their continued survival without the huge draws there to pull in foot traffic. Bruce jumped out of the passenger side, the large truck sitting a few feet off the ground, and walked around the plow, letting his rifle dangle over his shoulder on a loose strap. Nate slid down from his seat as well.

“What store was this, anyway?” Bruce asked, looking up at the large square slab of concrete at the front of the store where a sign used to be.

“Circuit City, I think,” Nate replied. “Who knows? Does it matter?”

Bruce shrugged.

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