Falling Sky by Rajan Khanna Read Free Book Online Page B

another few.
    They’re surrounding me.
    I fire off three quick shots at the closest Ferals, hoping the noise will scare them off, but they keep coming on.
    All of them keep coming on.
    I can’t shoot them all. And I can’t outrun them.
    So I shoot and I shoot and I shoot again, not thinking, barely breathing, just jamming my finger back on the trigger. The automatic goes dry quickly, so I throw it at them, not thinking, just needing to keep them back.
    I’m strangely calm. It’s like the world slows and shrinks and it’s just me and the revolver, one machine, shooting at the Ferals.
    But there are too many of them.
    And they’re getting closer.
    And panic starts to set in as I realize they’re going to get me.
    And bite me.
    And I can’t Fade. I won’t.
    I hold the revolver up to my head. My last friend in the world. My last connection to the past. Give me a kiss, friend, I think.
    Then I hear a scream unlike any I’ve ever heard before. No Feral could scream like that. What possibly could?
    And the Ferals’ feet are pounding the ground around me, so strong I can feel the hits reverberating through my body.
    Something large, some monstrosity that shouldn’t exist, bursts through the Ferals and, as if by magic, they fall back from it, their bodies breaking and tearing.
    â€œGet on,” a voice says loudly in my ear, and I’m pulled up, toward the beast.
    Rationality asserts itself again and I realize that this is some kind of animal, with a rider, and he’s trying to get me to safety. And seeing all the blood that’s flying around, I think that must be a good idea.
    The smell of the animal fills my nostrils and I clamber up clumsily, pulling on the man to help seat me. He takes only a moment to make sure I’m secure, and then he swings about with something long and hard, and it pushes the Ferals back. Many of them dead. Most of them injured.
    â€œGrab tight,” the man snarls at me and I grip his body. Then, with the barest hint of a command, we’re galloping away, up the hill and away from the Ferals.
    I sneak a peek behind us and notice that none of the Ferals are following.
    It’s only then that I exhale, not even realizing that I’m holding my breath.

    In what seems like only moments later, we’re at the house on the hill, and, springing some kind of mechanism, a gate opens in the tall metal fence and then swings shut behind us with a clashing sound.
    We slow, then stop, and the rider slips easily to the ground. I try to follow him and almost fall off the animal that I now realize must be a horse. My father told me about them, but most of them had been killed for food years ago. I’d seen a few pictures on the covers of old books, but I never imagined how big they were.
    The rider helps me to the ground, which I gain practically on my knees, and then removes his helmet.
    He’s a big man. Burly. With dark hair streaked with gray and a large, bushy mustache. His eyes are dark and serious.
    â€œThank you,” I say, loosening my scarf. “You saved my life.”
    He frowns. “Whatever were you doing out there alone?”
    I grimace. “It’s a long story. I was running from some raiders. In a vehicle, but then it ran out of fuel. I saw your lights up here last night and thought I would try to make it here today. The Ferals found me, though, before I found you.”
    â€œThen you’re incredibly lucky that I came along when I did,” he says.
    â€œI don’t know how to thank you,” I say.
    He smiles, then, and the serious look is replaced by one of mirth, lines creasing the corners of his eyes. “I’m Viktor,” he says, and holds out his hand.
    â€œBen,” I say, and take it. Now that I have time, I can see he’s wrapped well. He knows the drill, then.
    â€œA horse?” I say.
    His smile widens. “Not just a horse. This is Rex.” He pats the horse’s