Escaping Anarchy (Dark Nation Book 1) by Grace Hamilton

Author:Grace Hamilton [Hamilton, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-02-08T16:00:00+00:00

After climbing out of the ditch, Alex vomited onto the road. Hot, acrid bile burned his throat and he retched until his stomach was empty. The driver’s ghostly face flashed in front of his eyes. The way the truck rolled over, the smashed windscreen, the noise it made, began to merge in his head with the day his own car had spun out of control. The truck driver’s face was now Laura’s face, and Alex was watching himself from up above, as she crawled to reach him where he hung upside down in his seat, held in place only by his seatbelt, as Laura begged him to wake up and move. He could smell diesel and he had no idea whether he could really smell it or if it was his imagination.

To block it out, he screwed his eyes shut. When he opened them, stepping away from the ditch, Alex reached for his pocket, patting it, trying to locate his cell phone. Then he remembered that he’d left it at home, and he remembered why—there were no cell phones. Not anymore. Even if he could have called 911, would there have been anyone there to answer him? Surely, right now, the cops and the paramedics and the fire fighters were scrambled all over the city. If what he’d seen on his way through town was anything to go by, they had their hands full. Why bother attending to a smashed-up truck and a guy they couldn’t possibly save?

Shaking, perhaps because he was wet and cold, or perhaps because he’d just seen someone die, Alex picked up his bike and climbed back onto it. At the brow of the hill, he stopped. His wet clothes were weighing him down, so he began to twist the hem of his sweater between his fingers, attempting to wring some water out of it. He was squeezing hard when his rifle knocked against his elbow. He nudged it out of the way, but then a sinking feeling lodged itself in his chest; he’d taken the rifle into the ditch. It was waterlogged. And utterly useless.

Alex was over the crest of the hill when he heard gunshots. Skidding to a halt, he looked back at the town. Had they come from his neighborhood? Or Dean’s? As more gunshots broke out, he let the bike fall from under him and walked forward a few paces.

He scraped his fingers through his hair. What the hell was going on? Looting? Wasn’t that what happened in the movies? First, the calm. Then, the storm. The part when people realized they could do and take whatever they wanted. He froze, unable to move. All he could think of was Laura. She was alone. Vulnerable. He’d left her alone. Sure, she had a gun, but would she use it if she needed to?

Alex grabbed his bike and turned it back toward town. For a brief moment, he put his feet on the pedals, determined to go back for her. Then he hesitated.

In one direction was his wife.

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