Free State of Emergency (Book) by Summer Lane

face for a long time before turning me around. He laces his fingers through mine and pulls me forward, purpose in each step.
    “What…where are we going?” I stutter, still shocked.
    “Whatever happened here,” Chris says, shoving a few loose strands of hair away from his face, “was not an accident. It was a systematic extermination.”
    “By who ?”
    He shrugs. Obviously neither of us can answer that one, but chances are that whoever did this was the same group of sickos that hit our world with an EMP.
    “What about shelter?” I say, by this time jogging across the overpass.
    “Not here. This blood is fresh. This didn’t happen more than twenty-four hours ago,” Chris points out. “Look at this trail of blood. People were lined up and wiped out.”
    I start to hyperventilate.
    “Oh. My. God.” I cover my mouth with my hand, more food coming up my throat. “Is this some kind of nightmare? This isn’t real, right?”
    Chris rubs his chin, assessing my freak-out moment.
    “This is real,” he says at last. Firm. “And we’re going to be okay. Got that?”
    I nod, numb.
    He takes me hand again and we walk down the onramp. I start to notice how buildings along the freeway have broken windows. Some of the glass is black – like it had been blown up from within. The freeway is also covered with funny black marks. Not tire marks. Something else.
    Chris notices this, too, but if he’s thinking that it’s suspicious he keeps it to himself. We walk along in silence, hyperaware of every single sound. Are the killers still lurking nearby? Who in their right mind could possibly be responsible for this? This is the United States of America, for crying out loud.
    Things like this?
    They just don’t happen.

Chapter Six
     
    Sometime after dark, the storm hits. I’ve stopped keeping track of time since it’s kind of useless when you’re just dragging yourself down mile after mile of bland interstate, knowing that there might be another sea of dead people at the next rest stop.
    Not exactly what I would call luxury traveling.
    Chris and I take shelter in an abandoned SUV on the side of the road. The entire backseat folds down and creates a spacious tent. We crawl inside, dripping all over the upholstery. I note with sadness that there is a basket of baby toys inside.
    I wonder what happened to the passengers in this car.
    Pit pat, pit pat. The raindrops seem extra loud without any background noise. I sit with my knees against my chest, cold, wet and hungry. Chris looks unhappy as he shrugs off his leather jacket, totally ruined by the rain. After a few minutes of sitting in silence he finally says, “There’s an explanation.”
    I blink.
    “What?”
    “Those bodies,” he continues. “There’s an explanation for how they got there.”
    “Of course there is. I just don’t want to think about it.” I comb back my sopping hair with my fingers. “It obviously wasn’t our side.”
    Chris doesn’t answer.
    “I mean, it wasn’t our side, right?” I press.
    “How should I know?” he shrugs.
    “You’re in the military, that’s why!” I exclaim, trying to get my jacket to cinch tighter. It’s a no-go. “You should know these things. My dad would.”
    Chris shakes his head.
    “I haven’t been active duty for a year,” he says, propping his head against the backpack. “There’s a lot I wouldn’t know. I’m not in the loop anymore.”
    “Gee, you’re real helpful, aren’t you?” I make a face.
    Chris declines to fling a sarcastic remark right back at me, making me feel slightly childish. I mean, I he could at least try .
    At any rate, I unroll the camping blanket from my backpack and spread it over my legs, trying to conserve heat. I doubt there’s any heat left on this side of the planet, though. It got sucked out with people’s sanity forty-eight hours ago.
    Forty-eight hours. Is that all it’s been?
    I curl up in a tight ball, only a foot of space between Chris and me. In any other