These Times of Sedition: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survivor Thriller (The Abandon Series Book 4) by Ryan Schow

Author:Ryan Schow [Schow, Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: River City Publishing
Published: 2021-01-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Rowan McDaniel

Rowan and Hwa-Young were stuffed in the trunk of an old car with bad suspension and the mixed smells of old carpet, decades of little oil spills, and window washer fluid. With barely enough room to stretch and barely enough air to breathe, both of them were shoved against each other as much as they were shoved against everything else in the trunk.

As the journey progressed, the swerving, slowing down, speeding up, and bumping around was starting to make Rowan feel carsick. He swallowed hard, tried to get control of his breathing.

“I have to pee,” Hwa-Young said.

“I do, too,” he said.

“Do you think we’ll stop anytime soon?” she wondered aloud.

“I really don’t know,” he said, desperate for fresh air and solid ground.

She started kicking the trunk lid, but the driver did not stop or pull over. They both managed to turn their bodies to start kicking on the back of the seat, but there was barely enough room to get a sold kick. Still, the driver didn’t slow or stop.

Rowan growled in response, his frustration mounting. If he was pissed off before, he was double that now. This wasn’t The Underground, as the driver claimed, this was capitulation.

When they were finally worn out, when they were back in their original positions and nothing had changed, Rowan finally said, “If we’re going to go to the bathroom, we’re going to have to do it in our pants.”

Hwa-Young said, “I’m going to start.”

“Not if I start first,” Rowan said.

He let go of his bladder, pissing his pants because he didn’t have another choice. Hwa-Young did the same, then said, “Last time I did that I was in diapers.”

“The last time I did that,” Rowan said, “I was in college and I had too much to drink, but that’s another story for another time.”

“This is going to really stink later,” she said, “but it felt good to finally let go.”

He didn’t say anything, and then she didn’t say anything. Fortunately, they passed through whatever obstacle-ridden road they were on and they increased their speed. That meant no more weaving, and no more bouncing. After a while, they started to slow, and then they heard gunfire coming in and return gunfire going out. He heard the plink of a bullet and jumped.

“Get flat,” Hwa-Young said.

“I’m as flat as I’m gonna get!” he said.

The driver suddenly slammed on the brakes, skidding to a stop. Another bullet blew through the trunk and nicked his thigh which caused him to let out a low, angry growl.

“Are you hit?” Hwa-Young asked.

“Yeah,” he said, biting back the hostility and the pain.

“I told you to get flat,” she said.

“You weigh a hundred pounds,” he snarled.

The air was suddenly full of gunfire, most of it emanating from those driving them. A couple of guys barked out, voices were both patient and charged, and then a solid thump hit the side of the car, startling them.

It sounded like they were putting out heavy fire, but getting hit nevertheless. Then the gunfire stopped.

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