Storm Surge: EMP Survival in a Powerless World by J.S Donovan

Author:J.S Donovan [Donovan, J.S]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-17T22:00:00+00:00

20

Junkyard Dog

It felt like Maxine’s heart stopped.

The world squeezed in on her.

Her damp palms kept the rifle low and ready.

She dared not breathe.

Moving an inch would mean the end of her life.

The ginger-haired woman took one hand off the pistol and gestured for the rifle. “Sorry, girl. Nothing personal.”

The three thugs that had previously tried to assault her stepped out from hiding, aiming their own pistols at Maxine.

Maxine was as still as stone.

She expected to watch the bodies start falling. She expected Jacob to help her.

“Give it up, love,” the woman said.

Where are you, Jacob? Maxine thought. Her teeth chattered slightly. She had a fantasy of drawing up her rifle and taking them out in quick succession, but this wasn’t Hollywood. Reality was a lot less forgiving of mistakes. She’d made many in Miami. She learned that power of consequences.

The ginger-haired woman was annoyed. She shouted. “Give her a warning!”

Bam!

A bullet hole blew through a stop sign. The shooter was somewhere behind Maxine.

Grinding her jaw, Maxine surrendered the weapon. Two of the men flanking her rushed at her, each taking an arm. They squeezed her hard and forcefully, shooting pain to her shoulder. They pulled, yanking her along with them. Maxine kept her fists balled. She didn’t fight back. She waited for Jacob.

He never acted.

The woman stayed back with the thugs that were in hiding. The rest of them dragged Maxine.

“You smell nice,” one of the men remarked.

“Fresh shampoo,” another replied.

“Now where did you manage to get a shower all the way out here?” one of the men asked.

Maxine kept her eyes ahead of her and lips sealed. Rage burned inside her. It took everything she had to keep from lashing out. She moved as little as possible. She needed Jacob to have a clear shot.

They walked for a few long miles, bombarding Maxine with questions.

“Where did you get the gun?”

“How much food do you have?”

“Where are you living?”

“Is there anyone else with you?”

They got to a lower-class part of the town and approached a concrete building with a brick wall. The gate opened, and they stepped into the outer court. Large dog cages were scattered on the muddy lawn. The sign read Dog Pound.

The only man not pulling Maxine said, “We got one coming in!”

A few seconds passed.

The front door opened and a group of twelve men and women exited. Their gaunt features and dirty clothes hinted at their hunger. All of them were glaring at Maxine and commenting on her cleanliness, parting as she was forced inside. A woman sat at the receptionist desk. She was middle-aged, smoking, and had authoritarian blonde hair. She eyed Maxine with disgust. The man dragging Maxine halted her before the woman.

One of them showed off the rifle. “She had this on her, and she smells clean.”

“Looks well fed, too,” another added.

The woman leaned forward in her seat and eyed Maxine. “You alone?”

Maxine replied, “I came looking for my family. Owen, Chase, and my fourteen-year-old Ike.”

The woman cracked a smile on her rough face.

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