DeadEarth: Mr. 44 Magnum Read Online Free PDF Page A

out.
    Just to have something to do, she turned the
rest of the meds so the labels were facing outwards. Vicodin and
OxyContin stood at the far right. She paused with her hand on the
OxyContin, wondering how she’d feel if she took one. Part of her
wanted to try it, but a bigger part of her didn’t want to give up
the clarity of a sober mind. She put the vial back on the shelf and
closed the cabinet. She’d missed her chance for recreational drug
use.
    “I’m going to take a nap before this headache
gets any worse. Call me if you need me,” Shade said.
    Rikka didn’t respond, just kept singing.
    ***
    Anxiety hung in the air like smog as the time
for their father’s arrival grew near and finally passed. Rikka
cursed more, Shade cleaned and paced more, and Lou withdrew inside
herself. Apart from the gentle hum of the generators, silence ruled
every inch of the bunker with an iron fist. Entire days passed like
that.
    When nothing was left to re-clean or
reorganize, Shade pulled up a chair and sat in front of the stairs
leading out of the bunker. Her companion, the suppressed M1911A1,
sat across her lap. She wasn’t expecting any baddies to come
bursting through the entrance. Rather, she prepared to charge up
the stairs and take her home back. She couldn’t bear to be holed up
in the bunker any longer. She had taken to staring at the medicine
cabinet to pass the hours. She wanted to take
something—anything—strong enough to make her forget she hadn’t seen
the sun or taken a breath of fresh air in two full months. But she
couldn’t. If something did happen, she didn’t want to be a
liability.
    But Jesus Christ she was bored out of her
mind. And those fucking generators…
    Shade disengaged the safety, stood, and
ascended the stairs in one swift motion. She wasn’t thinking. It
was like her body was on autopilot, and she had no desire to stop
herself. She flipped over the cover to the keypad and punched in
half of the exit code before Rikka took note and called out to
her.
    “What the hell are you doing?” she said
sharply. She stood and crossed the room towards the stairs.
    Shade didn’t answer. She knew if she did,
Rikka would find a way to talk her out of it, or get close enough
to stop her by force. One button, ENTER, was all it took for the
main staircase to rise, releasing her into the foyer.
    A gust of air tickled her face. Shade closed
her eyes for a brief moment and inhaled. She nearly gagged. It
smelled like ball sweat and urine—the last thing she wanted to
smell after two months.
    The house was silent. The sun set six hours
ago and Shade figure if anyone was still in the house, they’d be
asleep. She climbed the last few stairs with her weapon drawn. The
staircase closed as she stepped into the foyer. The suppressor of
her weapon glided to the right and to the left as she aimed the gun
at each of the entrances. She took a gentle step forward. The floor
groaned. She paused.
    Nothing moved. The house was as quiet as it
was moments before. If anyone heard the noise, they showed no sign
of it. Shade eased off the spot soundlessly. She placed her back
against the wall and eased down into a crouch. With the pistol
pointed at the ceiling, she took a breath and waited.
    This was the waiting game her father told her
about. ‘When you hear a noise in the night,’ he said, ‘don’t
investigate. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound. Wait. Wait for the
intruder to make another move. No matter how long it takes, you
wait. If you move first, they’ll know your position and attack
while you’re trying to prepare yourself. On the other hand, if you
make a sound while you’re sneaking up on someone, you wait as well.
You wait for their nerves to settle, for them to convince
themselves that the noise was nothing or that they didn’t really
hear anything at all. Silence plays tricks on the mind. Use it to
your advantage, but never become a victim of it.’
    The stairs opened again, spilling a little
light out