Nuclear Winter First Strike by Bobby Akart (best fiction books of all time .txt) 📗

out,” instructed Owen. “Tucker and I will take each end of this corridor. Lacey, you head through the gym to the front. Try to text, or meet back here once you find the entrance to the shelter.”

They took off in their separate directions in search of the stairwell leading below the gymnasium floor. Once again, Tucker’s instincts paid off. He reached the end of the hallway and found a door marked concessions. He opened it slightly to listen.

Hurried voices shouting instructions could be heard from the other end of the space filled with refrigeration equipment and sales counters. He moved closer to the ruckus and found people pushing and shoving toward the rear of the concession’s storage area.

He turned and rushed back into the rear corridor that ran the length of the building. His parents stood in the dimly lit hall, looking in his direction.

“I found it! Hurry! There are a lot of people trying to get in.”

The family was off and running again. They followed Tucker into the concession area, and then they merged with the crowd, who continued to shove their way toward a single door entrance.

The three of them held hands and then locked arms to prevent being separated by the crowd attempting to force their way inside.

“What’s taking so long?” asked Owen, who glanced at his watch. It had only been sixteen minutes since the alarm was sounded.

They were being shoved from behind, but they managed to keep their balance. Babies were crying, as were their mothers. Somebody in the rear screamed women and children first. The McDowells silently disagreed as they kept their place in line.

When they finally reached the doorway, a man dressed in the green-and-gold school colors with Placer emblazoned across the sweatshirt flanked the door along with a uniformed police officer.

Owen arrived at the door first.

“ID!” the officer shouted.

“What?” asked Owen, who was genuinely confused as to what the purpose of presenting identification was.

“ID, sir! We need to confirm you’re a resident. Let’s go.”

Owen started to reach for his wallet, and then Lacey grabbed his arm.

“We were afraid and ran out the door. We don’t have it.” She presumed, rightfully so, that they would try to turn back someone from outside their community.

“Where do you live?” the Placer coach asked.

“Over on Finley,” replied Tucker.

His observance of his surroundings and quick thinking paid off. They were waved through, and the next group of refugees was interrogated.

Once inside, they descended two flights of concrete stairs to the bottom of the structure. Fluorescent lights flickered, causing all three of them to squint to avoid the strobe effect. They followed another group through a single thick steel door into a large room that was illuminated with more fluorescent lighting.

It was dank and smelled musty. There appeared to be little or no ventilation, causing the trio to gasp for air slightly. The excited occupants, all of whom were chatting nervously, exacerbated the problem.

“Let’s ease away from the door,” suggested Owen.

They grasped each other by the hand and moved through the crowd toward the concrete wall. Slowly, they made their way to the back of the space until they reached a series of corrugated roll-up doors locked closed with padlocks.

“That’s it!” someone shouted.

“No more!” yelled another.

The shouts of those safely in the bunker began to explode in unison. Owen glanced at his watch. He understood why. The nuke could strike at any moment.

“Let us in!” a woman demanded from outside the protective bunker.

“There’s just four of us!” argued another.

“I’m a single,” shouted one woman as if she were waiting in line at a Disneyland ride.

“You can’t leave us out here!” begged a woman through her sobs.

The cries for help and admittance rose to a crescendo outside the shelter. Inside, the voices were equally loud as people demanded they close the door. Eventually, the insiders won out, and the metallic sound of the nuclear-hardened blast door closing and locking shut was heard.

This final act of separating the refugees from the horrors possibly awaiting those on the outside instantly brought a hush throughout the shelter.

Everyone held their breath as they waited. They strained to listen. Some studied their watches and whispered to their loved ones. Parents tried in vain to calm their crying children. Others could be heard openly praying. Some simply closed their eyes, held hands with the person closest to them, and waited for the nightmare to be over.

They didn’t have to wait long. Three minutes later, the ground shook as if a seismic wave from an earthquake had swept over them. Decades of brittle concrete and dust fell from the ceiling, coating the occupants in the grayish-white debris.

Screams filled the air as everyone found God in that moment. For those who hadn’t, that all changed when the power suddenly went out, thrusting them into pitch-black darkness.

THANK YOU FOR READING NUCLEAR WINTER: FIRST STRIKE!

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NUCLEAR WINTER: ARMAGEDDON, book two in this epic survival thriller.

Other Works by Amazon Charts Top 25 Author Bobby Akart

Nuclear Winter

First Strike

Armageddon

Whiteout

Desolation

New Madrid (a standalone, disaster thriller)

Odessa (a Gunner Fox trilogy)

Odessa Reborn

Odessa Rising

Odessa Strikes

The Virus Hunters

Virus Hunters I

Virus Hunters II

Virus Hunters III

The Geostorm Series

The Shift

The Pulse

The Collapse

The Flood

The Tempest

The Pioneers

The Asteroid Series (A Gunner Fox trilogy)

Discovery

Diversion

Destruction

The Doomsday Series

Apocalypse

Haven

Anarchy

Minutemen

Civil War

The Yellowstone Series

Hellfire

Inferno

Fallout

Survival

The Lone Star Series

Axis of Evil

Beyond Borders

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