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I hear: Put her down.

And then I feel a tremendous blow to the side of my head, making all the pain go away. Everything goes black.

Not the highlight of my day.

Chapter Three

Growing up, I always had very vivid dreams. I rarely had a dream that revolved around science fiction or fantasy — everything I dreamed about was related to real life. My mom, my dad, my latest explosion in the chemistry lab at school. Whatever was in my head before I fell asleep was the subject of my dreams.

Today is no different, except for the fact that I’m not asleep. I’m unconscious. How I became unconscious I have no idea, but I have a feeling it’s not good. I’m stuck in an in-between world of dreaming and reality, mixing real sights and sounds with my imagination. Bursts of light, deep voices, soreness in my leg…what happened to my leg, anyway? What happened to Chris? Where am I… and why can’t I wake up?

I try to shake myself awake but it’s not working. I’m stuck in darkness. No feeling, no nothing. I can only hope that I’m not dead and that this isn’t some kind of lame version of heaven.

“Wake. Up.”

I feel myself bobbing to the surface of reality as somebody with an accented voice repeats those two words over and over again. The voice gets more and more irritated, which kind of ticks me off.

I’m trying to wake up. Don’t rush me.

Light slips into the darkness, and with it, feeling. I feel cold. I feel thirsty. I feel seriously in need of a hot shower.

Yeah. That’s my first thought when my eyes open and I find myself staring at a gray ceiling. “Finally. Geez, it took you long enough.”

As I focus on the scenery around me, I realize for the first time that my head is crammed against a wall. And I’m moving. Well, bouncing would be a more accurate term. A figure is crouched at my feet. She’s got dark skin, short brown hair and glittering hazel eyes.

“You’re not very polite,” she states.

I sit up, feeling dizzy, and look around. Somebody’s ankle is pressing against the back of my head.

Wait.

What?

I jerk straight up, overwhelmed by the smell of human sweat. It’s beyond gross. I’m crushed against the back wall of some sort of truck, and everywhere around me, people are standing next to each other, packed tightly like sardines in a can.

“What? I don’t…who…?” I start rambling. I’m disoriented, terrified and sick. All of those lovely emotions rolled into one. “What’s going on?”

Nobody pays any attention to me and I can’t move, because I’m stuck between too many people. The air is humid and difficult to inhale. It reeks like vomit and urine, too. I gag and roll to my side, crawling on my hands and knees.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the girl asks.

I turn back to face her. I’d forgotten she was here.

“Who are you?” I pant, shaking.

It’s hot. The only cool air is coming from above the heads of the standing crowd, so I try to stand. When I do, I fall over and hit the ground. Real graceful. The back of the truck is open. Everyone is fenced behind a metal mesh gate. It looks almost like chicken wire. It’s dark outside, and I can’t make out anything more than flashes of trees whizzing by.

“Sophia,” she says. The girl is crouched in a feral position, studying my face. “My name is Sophia. What’s yours?”

“My… name?” I’m clutching the floor like an old woman on a rollercoaster. “Um… right. My name.” I meet Sophia’s gaze. She’s surprisingly calm. Considering the fact that we’re crammed into the back of a giant semi truck, I’m impressed. “I’m Cassidy.”

“Nice to meet you.” She crawls over to me and takes my hand. “Don’t worry. It’s okay to be scared, sometimes.”

“What’s going on?’ I whisper.

“Omega is taking us to prison,” she shrugs. “Or something like that.”

“I don’t remember how I got here,” I say. “I was running…I think. I got shot.”

“No, not shot,” Sophia replies. “Just shocked, plus you got hit on the head. You’re okay. But you were kind of delirious when they shoved you back here. I made sure you didn’t get squished when they crammed everybody inside.”

I stare at her, rubbing the sore spot on my temple.

“Why?”

She looks down. “You looked like you needed somebody to help you.”

For some reason, that makes me want to bawl my eyes out. Somebody besides Chris actually cared enough to make sure that I didn’t suffocate in the back of a truck. A red-letter day for Cassidy Hart.

“Thank you,” I say.

She flashes an embarrassed smile.

“No problem.” She huddles closer. “Where did they pick you up?”

“I was in a trailer park,” I reply, biting my lip. “They must have had a patrol in the area. They probably saw me walking around outside. Stupid me. I should have stayed inside like he said!”

“Like who said?”

“My…” I trail off. “Chris. He’s going to be mad when he finds out I’m missing.”

That’s an understatement. It takes a few minutes for the harsh reality of my situation to sink in, but once it does, it hits me like a bowling ball in the chest. I’ve been caught by Omega. I’m crammed in the back of a semi-truck with a thousand other people. We’re being taken to prison — or something along those lines — and the chances of me living to see the light of day are slim.

Maybe this isn’t such a red-letter day after all.

I fold my arms around my chest and try to take some deep, slow breaths. It doesn’t really help. There isn’t a Zen zone on this side of the planet that could calm me down. I’m being shipped off to my death.

And everybody in this truck knows it.

“I’m from New York,” Sophia whispers, scooting close to me. “I was on vacation in California when the EMP hit. My family is still in New York somewhere.”

Her eyes shine with tears. Tears I sympathize with.

“I heard our military is fighting somewhere on the East Coast,” I reply.

Somebody shifts and kicks me in the ribs. I pull away and huddle back towards the wall, Sophia right beside me. I keep my eyes closed to avoid looking at the sickening rocking motion of the truck.

“Yes,” Sophia answers. “I’ve heard that. I’ve also heard that it’s a lot worse on the East Coast than it is over here.”

“Why?”

“They say it’s an active battle zone right now.”

What’s left of the color in my face drains away.

“What kind of battle zone?” I ask.

“Don’t know. By the time news gets here, it’s all nothing but rumors.” She sighs. “Could be nuclear war. Maybe. But I’ve heard that Omega’s actually got a huge front of troops moving in over there.”

Yeah. The sick feeling I just had?

It’s back.

I cover my mouth to keep from throwing up again.

“You can’t be serious,” I mutter. But I know she is. And deep down, I knew something big was going down on the East Coast. I just didn’t know what.

We still don’t, but that gives me a little bit more of an idea.