Final Impact: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller by Jack Hunt

Author:Jack Hunt [Hunt, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2017-10-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Zeke sat there contemplating what to do. He hadn’t banked on this. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. As he looked at the four motorcycles parked out front, and the light emanating from his home, his thoughts went to the Desert Eagle in the glove compartment.

For over twenty-four hours he’d been in hell and he was in no mood to deal with a bunch of greasy ass bikers, even if they could probably snap his spine.

“Well, that’s that. Let’s go,” Dexter said tapping Aamir on the arm.

Before he shifted the gearstick into reverse, Zeke pushed out and slid around to the passenger door. He yanked it open and Dexter looked up at him. Instantly he went for the glove compartment but before he could get it open, Dexter slammed his foot against it.

“Are you out of your mind? Do you want to die?”

He looked back at his home. “That’s my house and I’ve had about as much as I can take for one day.”

“What? So you plan on going all Dirty Harry on them?”

“Just move your leg, Dexter.”

“Get back in, Zeke, we are getting out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then you’re not taking the gun. That’s the only one we have and God willing we won’t have to use it but if we do, I’m not wasting bullets on a group of bikers who will be dead soon, anyway.”

Zeke stared at him. He shook his head. It wasn’t like he was stupid. He’d heard them talking about an asteroid heading towards earth but the reality of the end hadn’t sunk in. Hell, he still hadn’t come to grips with his career being over.

“Move your leg,” he repeated through gritted teeth.

“No.”

“Fine, then I’ll deal with this my way.”

Zeke slammed the door and marched away, scooping up a twisted-off metal pole laying in the street. While the estate homes hadn’t fared well, he could see why these assholes had moved in on his house. It was one of four that hadn’t been reduced to a pile of rubble. It had suffered damage, the walls were cracked and a portion of the west wing had collapsed but beyond that it was still standing. That was a testament to the quality. He’d spent twenty-seven million to get the property created, not that he’d used it much. As the attendance on his evening shows had waned, he’d asked Jerry to convince the Luxor managers to let him hold an afternoon show. That way they could draw in some of the visitors who didn’t want to take in the evening show. For a while, it worked. Numbers went back up and his management and the Luxor were happy again. That all ended when his constant use of prescription drugs finally got the better of him.

Zeke heard Dexter call out to him but he ignored him and continued to press on towards the home. Bikers or not, there was no way in hell anyone would rob him of the last few pleasures of existence before his life came to an end.

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