US (Formerly The After Effect - Book 2)

32 - M O N U M E N T A L

"My GPS says three more miles."

The night was hard. It was bitter cold, for one. No amount of snuggling could cure it. I barely got any sleep, but so was refreshed enough to keep going once morning hit. I wasn't exactly the head of the pack, but I kept up. Brink tried falling back once to be at my side, but so shooed him off and commanded he go back to the front. He had no objections, and I was satisfied with walking by myself for a while. The sun's position tells me it's near noon as we trek along the asphalt. We've since exited the interstate, and are now shuffling along some smaller highways to get to the heart of the capital. The traffic is heavier already—based on the empty cars, anyway. Every so often, I swear I hear a huge truck or vehicle plowing through a street we can't see, but it may be all in my head.

Downtown is a scary place. Riddled with buildings back to back, the streets could go ugly any second. Debris is everywhere. Paper, scrap metal, glass, bones—you name it—it's scattered along the road. I find myself maneuvering around clothed skeletons equally so, which twists my stomach up in knots. I choose to keep close to Brink the deeper in the mouth we get.

Building are ruined from head to toe. Roofs have caved, windows—smashed. No doors. Sunlight sprays through the opening to give some brightness to the interior, which is anything but inviting. One of the stores we passed looks unable to walk through, with shelves crashed on top of each other, blocking the entrance. Even the cars sprawled about the road have been raided.

The worst part about this is the deja vu brewing inside me. This is too familiar, just like the day I entered my town, only on a magnified scale. Little Braxton can't even compare to this. It's mom and pop shops vs. hotels here.

Glass crushes beneath our shoes as we make our way through, keeping to the sidewalk on the left. Being out in the middle would obviously be a no go—but so would being spotted period, and that would be hard to avoid, given our group's size.

The sound of a motor fills my ears again, and despite everyone's awed silence, I need to whether I'm crazy or not.

"Anyone else hear that?"

Brink clasps his hand over my mouth, shushing me in a second.

"I hear it. Stay quiet."

Despite his response, his reaction to shutting me up is something I don't take lightly. I elbow him in the side and shove him off, warning him that his action was unacceptable.

He releases my mouth and throws his hands up in the air to stop us as a whole as we come around a bend. Brink leans his back against the mossy wall and peeks his neck around before flinging it backward. His expression transforms to fear, and his eyes flash to the Stella and Zeriah, before he whisper-shouts, "Inside, inside!"

We scramble to enter the building closest to us and struggle to file into the awkward space. I can't tell what it used to be inside—maybe a post office? Many tall shelves are knocked over, and there so much paper across the floor, you can't see the floor.

As we squeeze in, I hear the truck again and gasp as it loudens. It's headed this way.

"Did they see you—see us?" I ask, my breath skipping.

Brink's arms come around me at my waist and tug me into him tight. I know he wants me to shut up again.

I hold my breath as the ticketing sounding motor grows louder yet as the vehicle comes down the road, directly in front of our building. Everyone grows still as the tan hummer pauses in front of the entrance, and Brink's unsteady chest causes me to sweat even more.

We aren't ready to put up a fight.

My heartbeat soars the longer the vehicle remains idle in front of the building, but before I know it, it's passing right by and continuing on whatever little route it takes.