Summer Lane - State of Emergency

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 situation I would think this was awkward, but I’m so miserable I don’t care.

Chris falls asleep almost instantly. I’m guessing after nine years of being a Navy Seal you can sleep through anything — even the end of the world. It takes me a little bit longer to stop my shivering. When I finally drop off I have weird dreams about all the dead people at the rest stop, so I force myself to wake back up.

I’m surprised to find that it’s already early morning. It’s still raining, unfortunately. I curse the rain gods and make a move to sit up, feeling something heavy around my waist.

Oh, snap.

Chris’s arms are wrapped around my waist, pressing my back against his chest. No wonder I was so warm. Embarrassed, I lower myself down and pretend I’m asleep as he stirs. I don’t want to be awake when he realizes he and I had a cuddle fest all night.

Awkward…

“Cassie?” he whispers, shifting. “What time is it?”

I freeze, keeping my eyes squeezed shut.

“I know you’re awake,” he continues, lifting himself up on one arm. “Don’t deny it.”

I roll my eyes.

“I just woke up, genius. And you can let go.”

“Why? Aren’t you warm?” He smiles against my ear, keeping his grip firm.

“No,” I mutter, extricating myself from his embrace.

“I did it for you,” he smirks, shaking his hair out of his ponytail. “I thought you’d appreciate not turning into a human Popsicle during the night.”

“Whatever,” I retort. “You don’t have to be weird about it.”

“I’m not the one being weird about it. You are.”

I shoot him my most menacing glare before rolling up my blanket, stuffing it into my backpack with force. Not because I’m mad at him for cozying up to me during the night, but because I liked the way it felt.

Great. The end of the world is turning me into a desperate idiot.

I zip my pack up and take a look around the freeway through the tinted windows of the SUV. There’s still not a soul in sight. Just a bunch of stupid rainclouds and screwed up vehicles.

“Exactly how are we supposed to get to Squaw Valley on foot?” I say, giving voice to the thought that has been at the forefront of my mind ever since we lost my beautiful Mustang. “Because that could be a long, long stroll in the Winter. Besides, I don’t even think I have enough food in my pack to last that long.”

“It’s about two hundred miles away, right?” Chris replies.

“I guess.”

“I’d say if we keep walking every day and make good time, it could take…” he pauses and thinks it over. “Maybe two weeks. If we can do about fifteen miles a day.”

“Do I look like a marathon runner to you?” I say, feeling depressed. “I don’t even lift weights.”

Chris flashes a smug grin.

“Thankfully, I’m in great shape, so if you collapse with exhaustion, I’ll be more than happy to carry you all the way there.”

I whack him on the arm.

“Sure you will,” I mumble. “And then what are you going to do? Bug out with your little brother and leave me in the middle of the wilderness?”

He raises his eyebrows.

“What happens, happens,” he says.

I open my mouth to say something sarcastic and brilliant before I close it again. I don’t have to reply. It’s not worth it.

“Ease up, kid,” he advises, pulling his tee-shirt off. “We got a long way to go and you’re going to want to stick with me.”

I press my back against the trunk and stare, his muscular upper body taking center stage in my brain for a moment.

“What?” I say, absent.

“Forget it,” Chris replies.

I notice a tattoo of a vicious cobra around his left bicep. He’s also wearing a gold chain around his neck. “See something of interest?” he asks, the corners of his lips curving upward.

I clear my throat.

“No. Put a shirt on, will you? It’s not polite,” I say, popping the trunk open. The cold air does a lot to cool the rush of blood to my cheeks. Apparently being trapped within three feet of a hot, shirtless guy does things to my blood pressure.

Go figure.

“How’s your arm doing?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t notice my now-rosy cheeks.

“Fine. Healing up.”

Chris hops out of the car, wearing a tight black tee. He pulls his hair back and throws his backpack over his shoulder, looking ready to punch somebody out. Or maybe that’s his happy face. I don’t know.

“You got any breakfast in that magic pack of yours?” he asks, nodding to my backpack.

“A little.” I unzip the top, pulling out a high-nutrient protein bar. We split it just as the rain subsides enough to allow walking in it. “Tastes kind of like paper.”

I chew it slowly, contemplating how disgusting it tastes in comparison to scrambled eggs and bacon. Chris is thinking the same thing because he says, “That’s probably the crappiest thing I’ve ever tasted. Then again, I’ve eaten bugs before so maybe not.”

I pretend to gag.

“You’ve eaten bugs ?”

He nods.

“Intentionally?” I ask.

“For training.”

I shake my head.

“You really are insane.” I spread my hands apart. “Well, fearless leader, shall we begin our long march towards destiny?”

Chris looks a little annoyed.

“Yeah. Let’s do that, kid.”

And so we begin a boring, flat, wet, cold, miserable and bleak walk across an abandoned interstate. It bothers me that with all of the cars everywhere, there aren’t any people. It makes me wonder if there are more dead bodies hidden around someplace.

“Chris?” I ask. “Do you think we’re being invaded?”

To my surprise, he doesn’t make a smart remark or laugh. Instead he thinks it over before answering, “It’s possible. But how could an army invade so quickly, kill a bunch of people, and then disappear? Where are their vehicles? Why aren’t we seeing them out in the open?” He stops and sighs, frustrated. “This whole damn thing doesn’t make any sense.”

I agree. An EMP, a bunch of dead bodies at the rest stop…maybe that’s why all the people who mobbed us in the Mustang were so freaked out. Maybe they’d seen something. Something bad. Something that had to do with the body bags at the bottom of the mountain.

“I don’t know what to think,” I complain. “My dad always believed that a natural disaster or something was what we were supposed to be prepared for. But this is not what I had in mind.”