Hell's Children: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller Read Online Free PDF

stay. That’s the rules.”
    The rules.
    For the second time that day, Jack said, “Who makes the rules?”
    “Blaze makes the rules.”
    Jack couldn’t help but laugh. “There’s actually someone who calls himself Blaze? ”
    “He’s in charge. He can do what he wants. That’s also the rules. And don’t make fun of his name.”
    “Sounds sort of dumb. I think I’ll stay here. Thanks anyway.”
    Someone in the car asked what was going on and the boy waved him off.
    To Jack, he said, “You’re that guy, aren’t you? The one at the house we burned. I recognize your voice from earlier. Man, Blaze was pissed when you snuck out.”
    Then it dawned on him: Blaze was that bully with the red hair and machine gun who’d threatened to burn his house down—and had actually done so, apparently. Probably had to burn a lot of houses to live up to his invented name.
    The boy outside glanced furtively back at the car, then took a few steps forward. From Jack’s vantage, he was even skinnier than Pete.
    Another kid climbed stealthily out of the back window of the car and approached behind him.
    In a quieter voice, the skinny kid said, “Some guy with a bat said someone came this way with a bunch of food. It was you, wasn’t it? Listen, if you stuff something for me in those bushes”—he indicated the decorative shrubs in front of the big bay window—“I’ll tell the guys you don’t have anything. Then I’ll come back later and get it. No one has to know.”
    “Mitch, you’re a useless backstabber,” the kid behind him said. “Get back in the car!”
    Jack witnessed a look of sheer terror cross Mitch’s face before he fled back to the car and got in.
    “I want all your shit,” the newcomer said, holding up a gun for him to see. “Now, or we mess you up big time and take it anyway.”
    Gritting his teeth, Jack cracked the door wider, took aim with his pistol, and blew out one of the car’s headlights. In the enclosed space, with no ear protection, the blast surprised him.
    Pete screamed.
    The gun had twelve more rounds. Jack shifted his aim to the other light and shot that out, too. Now it had eleven.
    The boy fired wildly and ran for the suddenly moving car. He leapt for the swinging door, then slammed into it when the driver hit the brakes, bashing him edge-on and sending him sprawling. The car started moving and stopped again when the boy got up. This time, he succeeded in getting inside. The driver swerved back and forth as if dodging bullets. At one point, the car went up on the sidewalk, and sparks shot out from where the undercarriage struck the curb. A second later, it was back on the street again and speeding away.

5
    J ack shut the door and turned to Pete. “They’ll be back. Pretty soon, I think. Especially after they tell this Blaze person I’m here.”
    “After what you did?” Pete said. “You shoot like a boss. No way they’ll come back.”
    “Humans like to hunt,” Jack said. “Those guys have nothing else to do, and this leader of theirs probably wants to keep them busy. You ever hear of Shackleton?”
    “Shacka-who? What’s that have to do with hunting?”
    Jack dug out his flashlight, clicked the switch, and pointed it at the ground. Pete looked badly shaken, but still in control. His shirt was pulled up over his nose against the stink. A brief look around showed no bodies, just furniture, confirming the owners had likely died upstairs.
    “Those video games you played had guns,” he said. “You chased people around trying to shoot them, right?”
    “Yeah,” Pete said, “but that’s not the same thing. Video games aren’t real.”
    “Even better—you had no good reason for committing violence except for the thrill of violence. You were hunting and shooting humans for no reason. For fun.” He snorted. “Some pacifist.”
    “They weren’t real humans. Just animation. It’s not the same thing.”
    Jack’s parents had never bought a video game console for him, though