Free Dark Days: The Long Road Home, a post apocalyptic novel by L M May Page B

crumpled cigarette pack from his top pocket. “Sasha's passed out on one of the couches. Be safer to wait until morning anyway,” he added as the sound of breaking glass came from the street below.
    “You can't smoke that here,” Christopher scowled, his response automatic as he moved toward the window.
    “Don't you get it? All the rules have changed,” Gordon sneered.
    Across the street two youths wearing sweatshirts, their faces shadowed by their hoods, were struggling with a large flat-screen television that was taller than they were. The street itself was almost deserted, the only movement a few fleeting glimpses as shady-looking characters prowled about, obviously far more optimistic the power would return than Christopher and the others were.
    Most of the owners of the cars looked to be long gone, no doubt starting their own treks back to their loved ones, or perhaps seeking refuge when the looting began.
    The fact his office building was nestled in the business district, away from the supermarkets and shopping malls, gave Christopher grave cause for concern. If it was like this here, how did the rest of the city fare?
    “He's right,” Anne sighed, and Christopher turned.
    Anne narrowed her eyes at Gordon. “Give me one of those, will you?”
    When Gordon hesitated, Donavon pulled a cigarette pack from his pocket, flipping it open with his thumb.
    Christopher looked at Anne with surprise, but Anne merely shrugged. “Twenty years and the urge still hits me from time to time.”
    Donavon's hand shot out in a lightning fast movement, snatching Gordon's lighter. He lit two cigarettes and handed one to Anne, making her blush like a schoolgirl as he tossed the lighter back to Gordon.
    “Sorry about that, old chum,” Donavon said cheerfully when the lighter landed at Gordon's feet.
    Christopher bit back a laugh at the intensity of the scowl on Gordon's face.
    Gemma wasn't quite so restrained, earning herself a cheeky wink from Donavon.
    “Well – you still shouldn't smoke near the little one,” Robert said.
    Both Anne and Donavon flushed at their mistake, going to the nearest office and closing the door behind them.
    Drawing in deeply, Gordon deliberately blew smoke in Robert's face as he said, “The kid's as good as dead anyway.”
    Gemma and Megan gasped, but Christopher's reaction was instantaneous and primal, his arm shooting out to slog Gordon squarely in the face.
    “What? It's true.” Gordon stepped back, rubbing his jaw, his squinty eyes bulging indignantly. “How long's the kid going to last without water?”
    “Get out of here,” Christopher bit out. “Before I punch you again.”
    Gordon retreated, watching Christopher and Donavon as they heaved the heavy water bottles to the stairwell. Gemma and Robert were right behind, rolling theirs along the floor.
    When they returned – loaded down with cartons of drink – Anne was watching Gordon with shrewd eyes and a stiff back.
    “How big is your trunk?” Robert asked Megan softly, glancing nervously at Gordon who was working his way up to protesting if the look on his face was anything to go by.
    “Big,” Megan beamed.
    Christopher had never liked or trusted Gordon Greenvale. He placed himself between Gordon and their stash as Donavon brought a case of Coke out of the storeroom.
    He'd questioned his uncle's judgment when he first hired Gordon, but it had quickly become clear that Gordon's narcissistic ways made him a brilliant litigator. Gordon thrived in the limelight, shamelessly chasing the high profile cases he'd used to make a name for himself, not giving one iota about justice or guilt in his need to win. Christopher had learned to tolerate the man for his uncle's sake. Gordon took on the cases the rest of them didn't have the stomach for.
    “You can't take it all,” Gordon pleaded with Anne as she returned to the storeroom.
    “I do believe you and Sasha have a swimming pool full of water,” Anne retorted, her tone leaving no room for