Snippet #2489234

Stevie Darden


Stevie shoved her bag at her feet and squeezed herself against the window to give as much room as possible for the armed men piling quickly into the vehicle. Her heart pounded in her throat. Already it felt like it had to have been a lifetime ago that she saw Dean's head fling backwards, body completely horizontal in the air as the bullet dragged him backwards into stillness. After the two soldiers had tucked her up and away from Dean, they took her gun and rushed her along. Everything after that felt like it may or may not have happened, even the sudden shooting of the angry dog. Her mind felt like a record skipping every few seconds and starting the song over.

The APC lurched forward, jolting Stevie out of her head and back into the vehicle. She turned to her right and noticed Thomas occupied the spot next to her. She edged toward the window to give him room to turn to talk to his colleagues. The sun was on its way down.

The vehicle rumbled ahead, mainly street lights acting as the source of illumination along the road. A fire was burning just down a ways. Several disabled cars littered the road, forcing the APC to maneuver carefully through them. Not far away, two hunched-over figures were crunching their teeth on a screaming woman pushed up against the inside of an open car door. Stevie watched in complete silence, noting the similarities between that and the surreal sequence of Dean's attack. Whatever this was, it was happening everywhere. The occasional dead body sprawled out on the ground amongst the cars.

She kept her mouth shut while the group talked amongst themselves. At this point she couldn't see what she could contribute. Right now it was her job to just follow along and stay out of the way. Except... She pulled her bag up to her knees, unbuckled it and retrieved a folded-up map of the Los Angeles metro area. She opened it up and offered it to Thomas cautiously, having the strongest desire to be helpful. "We're not far from Santa Monica, right here," she said, pointing to a specific spot.

Holloway looked back over his shoulder. "Sarge," he said, trying hard to hide any kind of bewilderment upon the sight of a group of approximately twenty pallid, dead-faced men and women shuffling in place about fifty yard ahead, the largest group they'd seen yet. "We've got company."