Rebel Heart

Lana cried for a long time, shaking. When no more tears came, she roused herself. Her Guardian was truly gone. Her whole body resonated in pain at the thought. She had to get the Horsemen to safety.

Her clothes were still drenched. She needed new ones, or the cool night would do her in. She pulled her micro free again and looked for the nearest emerops.

Another address popped up. Her address. She'd been too tired and cold to remember just how close to home she was. With one last look at the river, she turned away and climbed the bank clumsily before heading towards the road leading from the bridge to her home.

Home. Her throat tightened at the thought. She'd never expected to see her condo again and couldn't shake the feeling it wouldn't be the same. There was no electricity in this part of the state, and looters would've likely taken everything.

But it was all she had left. Her step faltered, and more tears spilled.

Be strong. For Brady, she told herself. The thought of him almost crippled her.

While her step was anything but sure, Lana forced herself onto the road and walked. Her body shook off the chill by the first mile marker and by the second, the moon was directly overhead. She heard disconcerting sounds of heavy weapons fire in the distance, and the forest smelled as if it were burning.

Brady's caution and Mr. Tim's words returned to her as her thoughts cleared with the exercise. She looked around when she reached the third mile marker, aware she was a sitting duck. The rebellion's grays were enough to get her shot by anyone. She moved off the road into the ditch.

At the fourth mile marker, she paused. The road was ripped open, as if by a massive bomb. The gap was twenty meters wide and on the other side, a graveyard of burnt-out vehicles. The scent of charred flesh and metal still lingered, and Lana covered her mouth and nose with her hand as she started forward again.

Morbid curiosity drew her from the gutter to the highway. She walked down the middle of the carnage, peering into hulls of greencars. Some had charred bodies while others were empty. She'd read many reports of damage and was struck by how easy it had been to dismiss the humanity of the war they were in.

She pulled out her micro to see what had happened along this stretch. There were no media reports, but one intelligence spot report described the carnage.

Attack on feds fleeing towards Sky Bridge. No survivors. Lana replaced the micro, looking anew at the green cars and their silent occupants. It was impossible to identify anyone or anyone's individual vehicle. Yet she couldn't shake the thought that these weren't any feds; these were the feds from her condo community.