Free Survival Paranoia (Survival series) by Kay Glass

result of some really strong hallucinogenic drugs. Other days she was convinced that she was being hunted. The military would want to round up all survivors and study them like bugs under glass. She whispered to herself constantly and she raided a drug store for their entire stock of caffeine pills so she could function longer on no sleep. It made her twitchy and only further fueled the paranoia. She even wondered if she was the only survivor left, as she hadn’t seen another living soul since leaving the motel.
    A week after the ‘motel incident’, as she referred to it in her mind, she’d gone back to see if there were any survivors. That had nearly been the thing to snap what little control she had on her sanity. They were all gone, and she couldn’t even pretend that some of them had survived and run off. Their corpses littered the motel rooms, or wandered through the parking lot as though they had somewhere important to be, but just couldn’t remember what it was. She’d killed them one by one, stacking them like cord wood in the center of the parking lot. She’d saved Jeff for last. He still held the crowbar in one hand as though he wasn’t sure what to do with it. She stared at him for a long time, hoping to see some signs o f humanity within the shell, of the boy she’d once thought she loved. But he was as empty as the rest of them, and she finally tugged the crowbar gently from his grasp and slammed it into the top of his skull, putting him to rest with one blow.
    The gas station across the street had lost power, but someone had been there recently… and died there, judging by the blood and gore. They’d siphoned fuel from somewhere and left the bright red cans stacked beside a little sports car. She put any stragglers down before loading the cans into the back of the SUV and carting them back to the motel. She’d taken the entire display of lighters from the station as well, and used the first of them to ignite the bodies. She said a little prayer over them as they burned, careful to stay upwind as the smell of burning hair was enough to make her gag. Then she climbed back into the SUV and drove aimlessly.
    But that was three weeks ago, nearly four, and she didn’t know what to do with herself any longer. She considered leaving Delaware. There was nothing here for her any longer, and maybe she could find some survivors elsewhere, but this was home. She’d spent most of her life complaining about living in such a tourist trap, but now it was the only thing familiar to her. If she travelled to another state, she would have an even harder time surviving since she wouldn’t know her way around.
    It surprised her to realize it was May. She was on Route 1 now, only a five-minute drive from Rehoboth Beach. Last year it would have taken her twenty minutes to drive to the boardwalk from this spot, but now the road was virtually empty, and her SUV was the only moving vehicle in sight. She decided impulsively to drive to the beach. There was nothing better to do, and she thought sitting on the sand would do her some good. She would have plenty of warning if something or someone came for her, and she longed for fresh air and the smell of saltwater.
    It was eerie, seeing what was left behind. That was the thought foremost in her mind as she made the left-hand turn from Route 1 onto Rehoboth Avenue. There was no traffic, with the exception of a few abandoned cars parked curbside, likely once belonging to the shopkeepers on this stretch of road. The firehouse stood quiet, nothing moving inside the open bay doors. She was already regretting her decision to make this trip. Somehow this abando ned capital of tourism stood as a symbol of everything she’d lost… everything that everyone had lost. But she was so close now, and all she wanted was to be alone, feet touching that bright, warm sand.
    Lorna parked indifferently on the sidewalk, wanting to be as close as possible in case she needed to escape. She brought