by Harley Tate
Thanks to the clear drainage path, the swelling in the surrounding tissue receded, but the wound still needed treatment. Without antibiotics, she risked a systemic infection. If one took hold, she could die.
Leah exhaled. According to Tilly’s map, Hampton sat just beyond a bend in Highway 82. As Leah entered the long, shallow curve, she picked up the pace. It had taken all day to hike the eighteen miles.
Thankfully, everyone she’d encountered on her journey left her alone. She didn’t know if that was due to her shaved head, the gaping wound, or her look of fierce determination. It didn’t matter. She’d finally made it to her destination.
As the road straightened, it transformed from a two-lane, undivided highway, to a quaint main street. Squat buildings with little shops and restaurants, now dark and closed from lack of power, lined the entrance to Hampton.
Leah slowed. A pickup truck on a lift kit blocked the road, sitting parallel across both lanes. No other vehicle could enter the town.
She squinted into the fading light. No driver. No stranded motorist. What an awkward way to stall. Leah thought about the EMP and all the abandoned cars she’d encountered on her trek out of the city. Was Hampton just like downtown Atlanta with wrecks all over clogging the streets?
With just over five thousand people, it was a spit of a town. The chances of a perfect stall across Main Street were slim to none.
Leah approached with caution. On either side of the truck, hay bales had been stacked head-high, blocking the sidewalk. Butted tight together and lashed with rope, the makeshift walls weren’t an accident.
A wave of goosebumps rose across Leah’s arms.
What is going on?
Leah hiked her bag higher on her shoulder and fixed the air rifle’s strap. She needed easy access in a hurry. With darkness quickly falling, Leah couldn’t see past the first few businesses. Were guards standing watch? Had Hampton gone into some sort of lockdown after the bombs? If Leah could only find someone to talk to, they would let her in.
She backtracked to the nearest cross street and skirted the edge of the business district. If she couldn’t get in the front, she would try the back. A block off the main section of town, houses took over. Leah had spent enough time in Hampton with her sister that she remembered the basic layout.
Quiet, residential side streets lined the main drag. They might be easier access points.
Nothing was stopping her from reaching her family.
As she navigated away from Main Street, hundred-year-old brick warehouses gave way to backyards and fences. A street sign up ahead announced another chance to enter the town.
Much like the last, a blockade prevented her access. This time, Leah knew nothing about it was accidental. She crept up to the Suburban stretching across the road. Like the truck, it wasn't occupied. Instead of hay bales, sheets of corrugated tin were riveted together into a six-foot-high impenetrable wall.
Leah crouched, peering beneath the vehicle in hopes she could shimmy her way into town. But cardboard boxes wedged between the Suburban’s chassis and the asphalt prevented her attack.
She bit back a curse. I can’t get in here.
With a forced exhale, Leah stood up and spun around, searching for any signs of life. No neighbors out for a walk. No lights in any of the closest homes. Nothing.
With the temperature dropping and the night settling in, she would lose all visibility soon. Leah wiped a sheen of sweat off her brow and squared her shoulders. I’ll make it to my sister’s one way or another. There has to be an open street somewhere.
Exhaustion and pain dampened her resolve, but Leah concentrated on her mission. No makeshift blockade would keep her out. I will reach my family.
Determination quickened her step and Leah hurried past dark houses and tall fences and on down the road. It would take more than a blockade to keep her out.
Built in the roaring twenties when railroads dominated the landscape and horses still outnumbered cars in country towns, Hampton began as an outpost for manufacturers and shippers sending their goods out of Atlanta and through the Smoky Mountains to the Carolinas and beyond.
As train traffic died, Hampton declined. Grand buildings lost their luster, trading in lead-glass windows for boards, and gleaming white paint for rot. But it didn’t fall into obscurity as a failed ghost town.
Thanks to the crushing traffic and outsized home prices in Atlanta, Hampton’s fall into obscurity reversed. People who wanted no part of modern city life and urban sprawl had moved in. It was undergoing a renaissance.
Was that why they were so protective? Did they fear hordes of city dwellers would overrun the town?
Approaching the next street, Leah quickened her step when the swoop of a sedan and the familiar shape of a light bar across the hood materialized out of the gloom. Yes! A police officer would help her.
She almost broke into a run. Ten feet from the cruiser, a beam of light flooded the darkness and blinded Leah. She held up her hand and stuttered to a stop.
“Identify yourself.” The man’s voice, firm with authority, sent a shiver down Leah’s spine.
She dropped her hand and squinted into the light. “Leah Walton.”
“Resident?”
“No.”
“Then you need to turn around and leave.” The cop kept the flashlight trained on Leah’s face.
“My sister lives here. Dawn Minter.”
“Got any proof?”
Leah glanced at the duffel on her shoulder. She had identification, but it wouldn’t share the same last name. She looked up, hope in her voice. We look exactly alike. Dawn’s maybe an inch or two taller, but we have the same hair and eyes. You have to know her.”
The flashlight beam bobbed. “Don’t know any skinheads in Hampton.”
Leah frowned. Skinheads? She reached up and ran her hand over her shaved stubble and groaned. Hairless and sporting a gnarly wound, she probably looked like a drug addict hoping for a score.
She tried again. “I was in a car accident trying to get here. I had to shave my head to put in the stitches.”
“If you’re injured, you should turn around and head back to town. We don’t have a hospital here.”
Leah clasped her hands in front of her. “Please, you have to know my sister. She lives on Iris Lane with her husband, Chris. They’ve lived here almost five years. I think Chris even volunteers with the police force.”
“If you don’t have ID, you need to leave.”
Leah’s voiced edged into panic. “You don’t understand. I have to get in. My husband should be there with my sister, waiting for me.”
“Husband’s name?”
“Grant Walton.”
“Resident?”
Leah’s shoulders fell. “No.”
“Then it seems you’re out of options, ma’am. I’m going to tell you one more time. You need to leave. Now.”
Leah chewed on the inside of her cheek. I can’t leave. I’ve come all this way. Grant was a mile down the road, inside her sister’s house, frantic with worry. She had to get to him.
Leah took a step toward the light.
“Stop right where you are.”
“I have to get in there. If you’ll just make some calls, someone knows my sister.”
“Rules are rules, ma’am.”
Leah took another step.
“Ma’am, if you take another step, I will have no choice.”
“No choice but to do what?”
The flashlight beam bobbled. “My orders are to shoot anyone who tries to come in.”
“Shoot me?” Leah’s voice rose in disbelief. “Don’t be ridiculous. I told you Dawn lives here. What do you think she’s going to do when she finds out you shot her only family?”
Frustration stole Leah’s intellect. She couldn’t think of a way to convince the cop to let her pass. It had only been a week since the bomb. Had things gotten so bad all the way out here that a little town like Hampton had to shut its doors and not let anyone in?
> Leah pressed a palm to her forehead, using the pain of her wound to bring her clarity. Between the barricades and the cop, she wouldn’t be getting inside Hampton easily tonight. She took a step back. Could she sneak in through someone’s yard? Climb over one of the barricades?
What if a cop was waiting in the dark on every street? She couldn’t risk getting shot just to cross the town line. Leah spun around and stared out. Thanks to the cop’s flashlight, she could see twenty feet or so down the road. A wood sign on the corner proclaimed, “Welcome to Hampton, Georgia. Population 4,993.”
Leah set her jaw and walked straight toward it. She turned back to face the police cruiser and the light and sat criss-cross applesauce on the sidewalk, three feet past the sign.
After a minute, the flashlight beam wavered. The cop’s voice rang out. “Ma’am. I asked you to leave.”
“I did.”
“I can still see you.”
“Am I inside the town limits?”
The flashlight beam lowered, tracking the road. The cop’s voice came back neutral and cold. “No.”
“Then I’ve complied with your request.”
“What are you are going to do?”
“Sit here until you either let me in, or daylight comes and I can talk to someone else.”
The flashlight clicked off and plunged Leah into the now-full darkness of the night. A radio crackled. “This is Officer Kelly. I have a situation on Begonia.”
Leah exhaled in relief.
Chapter Twenty-Two
LEAH
Corner of Begonia and Lake
Hampton, Georgia
Saturday, 8:00 p.m.
Leah blinked as her eyelids turned red from a source of light. At some point, she’d slumped over and let exhaustion steal her consciousness. It had been a rough few days.
She ran a hand over her cheeks and opened her eyes.
Muffled voices carried from the direction of the police cruiser. Leah strained to listen, but she couldn’t make out the words.
A chill shook her limbs and Leah stretched her stiff legs, now cold from the concrete, out in front of her. Whoever was out there, presumably arguing about her, needed to get on with it or turn out the light. If they weren’t going to let her in, she’d rather sleep on the side of the road.
At least with a cop standing guard she didn’t have to worry about her safety even if she was being treated like a criminal.
The flashlight lowered and Leah blinked back the spots swimming in her vision. A circle of light bobbed and weaved around the police car and down the sidewalk. It stopped at Leah’s outstretched feet.
A pair of men’s legs covered in jeans and work boots stood in front of her. She squinted as she looked up, unable to discern the man’s features thanks to the light.
“Leah?”
A familiar voice filled her with hope. “Chris?”
The figure bent into a crouch and her brother-in-law’s face came into view. “Is that really you?”
She smiled. “I knew if someone called you, they’d figure out this was a big misunderstanding.”
“You look like hell.”
Leah fingered her scalp. “Car accident. I haven’t been able to reach a hospital.”
He pressed his lips together. “Are you sick?”
“No. Just the head wound.”
After a moment, he nodded. “All right. Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“Home.” Chris held out his hand and Leah accepted it with gratitude. She would finally be able to hug her family.
“Did you wake Grant? Does he know I’m here?”
Before Chris could respond, the police officer came forward. “She’s a real troublemaker, this one.”
“She’s my wife’s sister. Seems to run in the family.”
The cop snorted out a laugh. “Give Dawn my respects.”
“Will do, Jim. Thanks.” Chris led Leah through the narrow gap between the police car and the closest fence and into Hampton.
The silence engulfed them. Apart from their shoes slapping against the pavement, only the occasional owl or cricket cut through the dark. Chris headed straight down Begonia Way and Leah followed a step behind.
She had a million questions, but the night air stilled her tongue. She could wait until they reached the relative comfort of the house. It had taken a week to get there. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.
While Chris led the way with his flashlight and determined steps, Leah glanced around. Not a single candle burned in any window. The stars pricked the sky above her, but apart from their scattered glow and Chris’s flashlight, the town sat dark and ominous.
She adjusted her bag on her shoulder as Chris turned onto Iris Lane. Four houses in, he beckoned Leah up the driveway. She hustled, almost running to pass him up the steps. Tugging the door open, Leah rushed into her sister’s little bungalow.
Dawn sat at her worn wood kitchen table, a candle casting shadows across her face. As she stood up, Leah rushed into her arms. “You’re safe!”
Dawn smiled against her cheek. “We are.” She pulled back and her face slipped into a frown. “But you look like an extra from Fight Club. What the heck happened?”
Leah winced. “Car crash. It looks worse than it is.”
“I sure hope so.”
Leah rose up on her tiptoes to peer down the hall. “Did you let him sleep?”
“Who?”
Leah’s brow tucked. “Grant, of course.”
Her sister’s eyes flicked up to find her husband. “You didn’t tell her?”
Chris hesitated. “I thought you should.”
Dawn drew back with a frown. “Of course. Leave the hard part to me.”
“She’s your sister.”
Leah turned to Chris. “What’s going on? Where’s my husband?”
Her sister squeezed her arm and dread whooshed through Leah’s veins.
“He’s…”
Leah twisted back to face Dawn. “He’s what?”
“Not here.”
All of Leah’s hopes and prayers and wishes shrank to a tiny pinpoint of white hot light and imploded within her. A swirling black void took their place. “He told me to meet him here. That this is where he was headed.”
She struggled to stay standing.
Dawn gripped her arm tighter. “You should sit down.”
Leah sagged into a kitchen chair. Had Grant died trying to make it home? Did he get trapped in Charlotte and suffer the same fate as so many of her friends and coworkers in Atlanta?
A sob rose up her throat, but Leah forced it down. Crying wouldn’t solve anything. Not now. She glanced up at her sister.
With a scrubbed, make-up free face, and her hair pulled back in a ponytail, Dawn could have passed for eighteen. A million memories rushed through Leah’s mind.
Surviving first the death of their father when Leah was only seventeen and Dawn fifteen. Enduring the death of their mother a year later. College then marriage then the prospect of babies.
Through it all, Leah had supported her sister and vice versa. But somewhere along the way, Grant had become her rock. Grant had become the sure thing. Not just Leah’s shoulder to cry on, but her sounding board, her solid footing, her everything.
Without him…
Dawn slid into the chair across from Leah and reached for her hand. “Tell me where you’ve been. What’s it like out there?”
Leah blinked back her fears and worry. “When the EMP hit, I stayed past my shift, helping triage at the hospital as best I could. But after listening to Grant’s voicemails…”
Dawn squeezed her hand.
“I left with an ER doctor first thing last Saturday morning. The streets were chaos. Stalled cars everywhere. We found an old station wagon that still ran and drove to Andy’s house on the north side of town. I dropped him off and aimed to come straight here.”
“Then what?”
Leah focused on her sister’s unblemished face. “The nuclear bomb hap
pened. I barely made it into a bookstore before the radiation began to fall.”
Her sister swallowed.
“After I ran out of food and water, I risked leaving.” Leah thought about the men in the Walmart and Neil and his wife. “Anyone exposed to the radiation plume is sick at this point. Maybe even dead.”
Her sister pulled back her hand. “How many people?”
Leah frowned. “Millions in Atlanta. I can’t imagine how many more all across the country.”
Chris spoke up for the first time. “How do you know that?”
Leah turned on him, shock in her voice. “I saw the blast with my own eyes. I treated people sick with radiation poisoning.” She swallowed. “I waded through hundreds of dead bodies covered in burns to get medical supplies.”
Dawn recoiled. “All here, in Georgia?”
“Yes. Here.” Leah shook her head at her sister and brother-in-law. “Why are you acting like this is news?”
Chris crossed his arms. “Our sheriff hasn’t gotten official confirmation of any bombs. So far, we only know for sure about the power outage.”
Leah stared at her brother-in-law like he’d just confessed to growing up on Mars. “You won’t get confirmation. All the officials are dead. They were probably vaporized into thin air the second the bomb went off.”
“Seems like a pretty convenient explanation to me.”
Leah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Conspiracy theories abounded on the internet, everything from the assassination of JFK to 9/11 to the president secretly being a plant from Russia. But she never thought her own family would doubt the truth.
She blinked and tried to keep the shock from her voice. “You’re seriously standing there telling me you don’t think the country was attacked? That nuclear bombs didn’t go off all over the United States and throw us into chaos?”
Her sister tugged on her hand. “There’s something we need to tell you.”
Leah spun around. Dawn’s lower lip quivered.
“What is it?” Leah leaned in, a million horrors running through her mind. “Is something wrong? Are you sick? Were you exposed?”
