Edge of Fear: An EMP Post-Apocalyptic Survival Prepper Series (American Fallout Book 3) by Alex Gunwick (year 7 reading list .txt) 📗

He dropped his rifle and reached behind his back to draw twin trench knives from their sheaths. Derek leaped up and buried one in the belly of an overzealous cultist. The man’s mouth went slack. His eyes wide as he went into shock.

Derek stabbed the dying man in the throat with his remaining knife, then used both it and the one in the man’s abdomen to lift the guy’s body into the air. Derek gripped the knives so he wouldn’t lose them, then sent the dead cultist through the air. The man crashed into one of his brethren, knocking him to the ground.

That left only one charging cultist. Derek turned on him, preparing to throw a knife. He realized he was too late when he was staring down the barrel of a gun.

Before the man could shoot, Liz took him clean in the back of the head. One of the man’s eyes exploded, leaving a gory red hole. He pitched forward into the dirt and lay still.

Derek shoved his knives in their sheaths and seized the dead guy’s rifle. Unlike Derek’s, it was in poor condition. But also, unlike Derek’s, it was still loaded.

He moved in on the remaining cultists, firing short bursts and taking them down one by one. Liz and Luke added their own barrage to his. The cult members broke rank and fled.

The scent of cordite hung in the air. Bodies lay on the ground, seeping blood into the mountainside. Derek checked to be sure they were all dead. He picked up as many weapons as he could carry.

“We need to pull back,” Liz said.

Before Derek could respond, shouts and footsteps came from everywhere. Luke and Liz dove behind the boulder. Derek took cover behind a tree.

“What do you see?” Luke yelled to Derek.

“Gunner. Second floor.” Derek yelled from behind the rock.

The heavy machine gunner unleashed a deadly rain of bullets on the boulder where Luke and Liz hid. Sparks and chips of stone showered the couple, who could do nothing but cower in the face of the onslaught.

Derek stared up at the gunner, a more physically intimidating specimen than many of the cultists. The man’s arms were as thick as tree limbs, and his lips were peeled back in a sneer as he fired his heavy weapon.

“Hey, asshole!” Derek shouted.

He threw his knife toward the man then bolted toward the side of the building. As expected, the blade missed and bounced off the window frame, catching the man’s attention. With a shout, the gunner turned the heavy machine gun on its tripod toward Derek. Bullets tore up the ground right behind him, but he made it to the wall.

Derek flattened himself against the compound. The gunner wouldn’t be able to angle the weapon down enough to hit him in that position. Dirt clots flew up into the air as the gunner tried in vain to zero in on Derek. When the man’s belt-fed weapon ran dry, Derek calmly stepped away from the wall and aimed his rifle.

As the gunner struggled to reload his weapon, Derek fired a three-round burst. The gunner took a round right between the eyes. The dead man pitched forward and fell out of the window, doing a half flip before slamming hard in the dirt.

More cultists came charging around the corner of the building. Derek scrambled to get back behind the jeep’s rusted bulk, while Luke and Liz provided cover from the boulder. More bodies jerked and fell to their death.

Derek glanced behind him, wondering if he could make it to the boulder where Liz and Luke hid. He took a step in that direction but nearly took a round for his haste. He pinned himself against the jeep.

Inching up slowly, he peered over the hood. More than a dozen men fired weapons at him and at where Liz and Luke hid.

He checked the magazine. He only had one reload left for the rifle. He also had two other pistols he’d taken from dead cult members. It wasn’t enough. The situation was dire. They were pinned down by gunfire, unable to fight back.

Kyle’s hands trembled as he filled his canteen from one of the water barrels. Annoyed with himself, he tried to will them to stop quivering. It didn’t work. It was impossible to be calm when he knew that his parents—the only family he had left—were fighting, and maybe dying, all so he could be safe.

He needed a distraction, but there wasn’t anything to do inside the shelter. Granted, he could be cleaning weaponry or inventorying the medical supplies, but he couldn’t focus. Touching those items would be a constant reminder that his parents were fighting for their lives at that exact moment. He wanted to be out there helping, but they wanted him to stay behind. It wasn’t fair.

As he wandered around the shelter, he passed the last locked door they hadn’t been able to open. What was behind it? And it would be useful in any way? Or would it be dangerous like the last door he’d opened?

He spent a few minutes debating. The last time he’d unlocked a door, a cultist had stood on the other side. If it hadn’t been for his father, Kyle would be as dead as Sierra. He hadn’t tried to unlock any more doors since. He was too worried about what could be on the other side.

Eventually, his curiosity, and need to keep his mind off his parents, won out. Kyle screwed the lid back onto his canteen and stashed it in his backpack. He studied the stuck door.

Edwin and Sandy’s voices carried from down the hall. They were walking toward him, so Kyle took cover behind a spool of cable. He waited until the elderly couple meandered past. While they weren’t technically in charge of him, they were still adults, and they might frown upon his current plan.

Once they were out