The Razor's Edge: A Postapocalytic Novel (The New World Book 6) (36 page)

Daddy died today. The bad men killed him. They shot him out in front of the house for no reason. Hope is crying. She’s scared.

Oh no, the bad men are now in your room. I’m scared. I think we’re going to die. I don’t want to die, Mommy, I don’t want to die.

The sound of heavy footfalls stopped just outside the closet door.

Charlotte questioned whether she had locked the door. To be sure, she reached up to verify and found the door unlocked. Her gut clenched and sweat formed on her brow. Delicately she pushed the pin that locked the handle and just in time.

The knob jiggled.

Charlotte slid back further into the closet until her back was against the wall.

Hope clung to her waist and whimpered.

Softly, Charlotte said, “Ssh.”

The knob jiggled harder and the pressure of someone outside the door weighed against it.

Remembering the small revolver her father had left in the box just for this type of emergency, Charlotte reached in and grabbed it. The steel felt cold against the hot skin of her palm and the weight was heavy. She wrapped both her small hands around the grip and pointed it at the door.

“Hey, the door is locked!” a man barked from the other side of the door.

Hope and Charlotte drew closer, if that was even possible.

Charlotte’s hand shook, making the loose cylinder of the revolver rattle.

“Kick it open!” another man’s voice boomed. This was the voice of the man who’d shot Charlotte’s father.

Charlotte tensed her body, waiting for the door to come crashing in at any moment, but nothing happened.

Voices called from further in the house.

The shadow underneath the door disappeared, gone as fast as it had appeared.

Charlotte gulped hard. A steady sweat poured down her face.

Hollers now echoed from the opposite side of the house.

“Are the bad men gone?” Hope whispered.

“I don’t know,” Charlotte said, lowering the revolver, her arms aching.

“I’m scared.”

“Me too.”

“Where’s Dada?” Hope asked, lifting her head from Charlotte’s lap.

“I don’t know,” Charlotte said, again not able to tell Hope the truth.

“Is Dada dead?”

Charlotte opened her mouth to reply but froze.

“Charlotte, is Dada dead?”

“I don’t know.”

“I heard something, was it a gun?”

Heavy footfalls came again and stopped just outside the door. “Open it up the old-fashioned way!”

“Will do!” a man replied.

Charlotte shook, her arms outstretched with the revolver.

The door exploded open.

Both girls screamed in terror.

The man froze when he saw the muzzle of the revolver pointed at him. “Now, take it easy there, little one,” he said, his hand held out and motioning for her to put it down.

Charlotte’s eyes were as wide as saucers. She placed her index finger on the trigger and began to apply pressure.

“Put the gun down, okay, sweetheart. Don’t do nothin’ stupid.”

A second man appeared and chuckled when he saw the two girls. He turned to the first man and said with a pat on his back, “The boss will be happy.”

The first man held him back and warned, “Dude, she has a gun.”

“I know, I ain’t blind, but I don’t think that pretty little thing will do anything to me,” he said with a toothy grin.

Charlotte’s arms began to shake vigorously from a combination of fear and fatigue.

“I don’t know, man, she has a look in her eye,” the first man said, taking a step back and out of the aim of Charlotte.

“She’s just a little girl,” the second man said and took another step inside the closet.

“Leave us alone!” Charlotte screamed.

“What’s your name?” the second man asked as he knelt down a few feet from her.

“Leave!”

“We won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Tears flowed down Charlotte’s face. “Leave.”

Hope was crying uncontrollably.

With his hand out in front of him, the man repeated, “We won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“You killed…”

“Your father didn’t cooperate; he was a stupid man. Don’t be like your daddy, girl.”

“Dada!” Hope wailed.

“Leave or I’ll shoot!” Charlotte barked.

“It would be irresponsible for us to leave you here alone. There’s a lot of bad people out there.”

“Leave!”

The man shifted quickly to the right, but with his left hand he snatched the revolver and twisted it out of Charlotte’s hand.

Charlotte and Hope both curled up tight and recoiled as far as they could, their backs planted firmly against the cold wall.

The man stood, looked at the other man, and said, “If we don’t find the other shit, at least the day wasn’t a total loss.”

CONTINUE READING 
HOPE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

G. Michael Hopf is the best-selling author of eleven post-apocalyptic novels. He is a veteran of the Marine Corps, former Executive Protection agent and whiskey aficionado. He lives with his family in San Diego, CA 

Please feel free to contact him.  
www.gmichaelhopf.com
www.facebook.com/gmichaelhopf

NOTE TO READERS

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Books by G. Michael Hopf

THE NEW WORLD SERIES

THE END

THE LONG ROAD

SANCTUARY

THE LINE OF DEPARTURE

BLOOD, SWEAT & TEARS

THE RAZOR'S EDGE

THOSE WHO REMAIN (COMING EARLY 2017)

DETACHMENT

DETACHMENT BOOK ONE

THE VAN ZANDT CHRONICLES

EXIT

NEMESIS
 

NEMESIS: INCEPTION

OTHER BOOKS

HOPE
 w/ A. American

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