World on Edge: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (World on Edge Book 1) by Chris Pike (top ten ebook reader TXT) 📗

They passed the remnants of a coffee stand where the stools had been tossed in all directions, and where a faint aroma of coffee hung in the air. The kiosks where team t-shirts and other items were sold had been reduced to a heap of clothes strewn around like they had been tossed out during the spin cycle of a washing machine. A woman ran past and slipped on gourmet popcorn. The taco stand had tipped over, and other kiosks and restaurants were unmanned. The Bloody Mary bar had a few people helping themselves to free booze.

“Kinsey, keep your eyes straight ahead.” Ethan grimaced at a pile of mangled and bloody corpses heaped next to a wall, contorted in grotesque shapes.

There was no response.

“Kinsey.” Ethan raised his voice in annoyance. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Close your eyes, and put your hand on my shoulder so I know you’re right behind me.”

Kinsey clamped her hand on Ethan’s shoulder and closed her eyes, willing herself not to look. She already knew what was there, and it would be a memory she wouldn’t easily forget. The smell of fear and gore, the wailing of survivors, the faces blackened with soot and blood, the chaos of people separated from loved ones. Debris clogging the walkway, purses dropped, hats scattered, a trampled toy elephant. The floor was sticky with spilled soft drinks and beer and blood. People of all shapes and sizes, young and old, reduced to a lifeless shape, tossed away like garbage.

She thought about her mom and her dad. She thought about her friends, and how lucky they were to be at home. She thought—

Kinsey stumbled forward and bumped into Ethan.

“You okay?” Ethan asked.

Kinsey didn’t answer.

She first thought she had snagged her jeans on a piece of metal. She tugged her foot away except she couldn’t get loose. She glanced down at her foot, and in the second it took for her brain to comprehend what had happened, she opened her mouth and screamed a shrill note so high, it sent shivers up Ethan’s spine.

Ethan whipped around.

Somebody from the pile of bodies had grabbed hold of Kinsey’s ankle, latching onto it with a death grip.

Balancing on one leg, Kinsey used her free leg to kick the fingers wound tightly around her ankle.

She kicked again.

Ethan jumped in and stomped on the hand until Kinsey was free.

Kinsey hadn’t had time to fully process what had happened, or had time to cry. She instinctively broke away from Ethan and stepped back to distance herself from the horror she had experienced when it became evident someone was alive in the pile of corpses.

Ethan took Kinsey by the elbow, and as he was guiding her away, a weak voice cried out. “Kinsey, come back.”

Kinsey froze. Her gaze dropped to the hand motioning for her to come back. The nails were painted in dark blue sparkly nail polish, a ring decorated with a diamond cut ruby surrounded by diamonds adorned the ring finger on her left hand. A memory came to her of getting a manicure and choosing a dark blue nail color. She recognized the ring and the nails.

“Mom?” Kinsey cried out. She broke away from Ethan and raced to her mother, kneeling beside her. “Mom? Are you okay?”

“I’m trapped. Help me.” Becca’s voice was raspy, thin. She was on her side, facing outward, one hand dangling over the pile. The rest of her body was trapped by people below her and others on top of her.

“Ethan!” Kinsey yelled. “This is my mom, Becca.”

Ethan quickly assessed the situation. “Can you wiggle your toes?”

After a brief moment, Becca replied, “Yes.”

“Good. Track my finger.” Ethan slowly moved his index finger from one side to the other in front of Becca’s face. “Do you hurt anywhere?”

“I don’t think so. I’m having trouble breathing.”

“It’s probably due to the weight of bodies on you. Hold tight, we’re going to get you out.”

Working quickly, Ethan tugged away limbs and whole bodies encasing Becca. When they had freed her legs, Ethan looped his hands under Becca’s arms, dragging her away from the pile.

Her clothes were stained with blood. Her tangerine shirt was ripped and she was missing an earring.

Ethan helped her sit against a wall.

“I’m so glad you found me,” Becca said. “I couldn’t move to save my life.” She gently rubbed her hand that had been stomped on.

“I didn’t mean to kick you, Mom. I didn’t know it was you,” Kinsey said.

“It’s okay, Kins. It’s not your fault.” Even after all Becca had been through, she was trying to comfort her daughter.

“I’m here, and Ethan said he would help us.”

“Thank you.” Becca shuddered and took a big breath. “Who are you anyway?”

“Ethan Crossfield, pilot.”

Becca eyed over Ethan’s uniform. “Are you with the Blue Angels?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Ma’am, I—”

“Call me Becca. Ma’am is too formal.”

Ethan nodded. “To make a long story short, we were flying in formation when our jets lost power. We were forced to eject, and unfortunately one of the jets slammed into the stadium.”

“I can imagine one jet failing due to some sort of mechanical malfunction, but all four?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Ethan said.

“What happened to your jet?”

“I have no idea where it crashed. Without working electronics, I couldn’t steer it. Hopefully it didn’t crash in a populated area.”

Becca took a minute to absorb what Ethan had told her. Slowly, her head cleared. “Where’s Tyler?”

“He’s still in his seat. Don’t worry, Mom, he’s okay.” Worry spread over Kinsey’s teenage features. Her round face, big blue eyes, showed the strain of growing up too quickly and facing the dangers of the world.

Becca coughed. “I’ve been trapped for what seems like hours. How long have I been in there? A day?”

“You haven’t been