Free Martial Law by Bobby Akart Page A

and we’ll see where it takes us. Okay?”
    Abbie exhaled and nodded. Then she turned toward him and touched his face. “I can’t help how I feel, Drew. I’m falling in love with you. I have been for months.”
    “I know. Love you too. I—” Then an explosion ripped through the night. They both instantly turned towards Lulu. A streak of lightning momentarily lit up the sky to reveal black smoke drifting skyward.
    Drew grabbed a few more things and stuffed them in his cargo pant pockets before he closed the Suburban and habitually locked it, tucking the keys away.
    “Let’s go.”
     

Chapter 17
    September 4, 2016
    4:20 a.m.
    County Road 241
    Near Lulu, Florida
     
    As Drew and Abbie jogged toward town, the frequent lightning strikes provided a view of the smoke that grew in volume and density. They had jogged almost two miles when they rounded the curve and saw fire dancing into the sky. The Lulu Baptist Church was engulfed in flames. Because of the intense heat and Drew’s concern over what caused the fire, he led Abbie across the street under the oak tree canopy provided in the home’s front yard.
    “What should we do?” asked Abbie. The two crouched under a mature live oak, which shielded them from the rain coming from another feeder band. Did this hurricane find a place to stop for the night?
    “I’m not sure, but something is out of place. I realize it’s oh-dark-thirty, but that explosion could be heard for miles. Where is everybody? Why aren’t the neighbors gathering around to see what’s happened?”
    “You’re right, Drew. Somebody would come around, right?”
    “Yeah.” Drew looked around and grabbed Abbie by the hand. They ran across a gravel side road to another set of oaks and looked around. Suddenly, Abbie gasped.
    “My god, Drew, look!” she exclaimed, pointing at a covered front porch in the midst of the trees. “Is that, is that a body?”
    Drew immediately pulled his weapon. “Abbie, listen to me. Ready your weapon and follow close behind me. I want you to watch our backs. I’ve got the rest. If you see someone, slap me and we both go down to a crouch. Got it?”
    “Yes.” Abbie unsnapped the holster and pulled her weapon. “Okay, go.”
    The two made their way together toward the front porch. It was a quaint Florida farmhouse with white wood siding and a green metal roof. Baskets of ferns dangled between the columns and swung in the gusty winds. The empty white rocking chairs swayed from the squalls, or from the ghosts of past residents—including the dead elderly woman laying half in and half out of her front door.
    “Abbie, you have to control yourself, okay?”
    “What? Why?” Impulsively, she turned around to see what Drew was talking about. She gasped and began to shake. “Oh my god!”
    The elderly woman, clad in a pink nightgown and light blue housecoat, had been beaten to death with a small sledgehammer. Her face was mangled, unrecognizable. The murderer had left the hammer embedded in her skull. Drew had seen death during his tours of duty in Afghanistan. What appeared before him was the most gruesome killing he had ever seen.
    He turned to comfort Abbie, but she was vomiting over the white porch rail. She was crying hysterically as the emotions of the day and the convulsions of her retching overtook her. Drew took her gun and tucked it into his belt. He pulled her hair back behind her and wiped away her tears as she tried to regain her composure. After her stomach was emptied, her crying subsided, enabling her to speak.
    “What is wrong with people? I mean, who could do this to an old lady?”
    “I don’t know,” responded Drew. “We have to be careful, Abbie. I need you right now, okay?”
    Abbie sniffled and nodded her head. She pulled her sleeves over her hands and wiped off her face and nose. She looked into Drew’s eyes and once again nodded affirmatively.
    “Okay.”
    “Abbie, here’s your gun. I want you to wait here while I check the house. I