sure this is isolated to Atlanta.”
“Where were you when it happened?” Falk asks. “How did you keep from getting caught up in it?”
“We were exploring the storm drains near Decatur,” Beck says. He rubs at a smudge on his jeans, and I wonder just what they’ve been walking through. A distinctly unpleasant smell comes from the group. “Caesar and Ryan are big into spelunking, so I said they ought to see what the city has to offer. Felt the ground shaking, but we were pretty deep in, and it took a while to get out. Some of the exits were blocked by rubble from the street. When we got back to the surface…well, we saw all this.”
Beck waves his arm in the direction of the street.
“Where were you?” Caesar asks. “Any idea what happened?”
“None,” Falk admits with a shake of his head. “We were downtown at the time. Took shelter in a MARTA tunnel. When we came back out, everyone was dead.”
“How did you end up out here?” Beck asks.
“I live near here,” Falk replies.
“Who’s this?” Beck asks, indicating me. He runs his tongue over his lips and gives me a smile. “I feel like I know you from somewhere.”
I swallow and start to respond, but Falk beats me to the punch.
“Hannah,” Falk says tersely. “Where are you headed now?”
Beck glances back and forth between me and Falk and raises his eyebrows. Ryan shuffles his feet, and Caesar stares at me closely. He widens his eyes, and I know he’s recognized me, but he doesn’t say anything.
“I was going to head home,” Beck says. “Try the landline.”
“Mine was dead,” Falk says. “What area are you in?”
“Near Emory.”
“You a student?”
“Faculty,” Beck says. “I teach anthropology. Caesar and Ryan live in Valdosta, right by the Florida border.”
“What do you do there?” Falk asks as he turns to the other two men. His questions are starting to sound like an interrogation, and Beck’s eyes narrow as his friends respond.
“I’m a state trooper,” Caesar says. “Ryan’s been working at the local airport, saving money for school.”
“I’m going for a law degree,” Ryan says, but Falk doesn’t look at him. His eyes are on Beck, and the two men are staring each other down. The silent interaction is unnerving.
“You were military,” Falk says with a very matter-of-fact tone.
“Yeah, briefly.” Beck’s throat bobs as he swallows.
“What branch?”
“Air Force. I was in communications.”
“Deployed?”
“No. Never called up.”
Falk nods slowly.
“What about you?” Beck asks.
“Army. Infantry.” Falk doesn’t offer any additional details. They continue to stare at each other until Caesar speaks up again.
“If the landlines are dead, we’ll have to gather more information another way,” he says. “We’ve got a car nearby.”
“I’ve tried several,” Falk replies. “All of the batteries are dead.”
“We’re parked just a couple of blocks from here,” Beck says. “Let’s at least give it a try.
After listening to Beck’s car try to turn over for a couple of minutes without starting, everyone gathers in the street to discuss our next move.
“We should stick together,” Beck says, “at least until we figure out what’s going on.”
Falk glances at me, but I’m not sure if he’s looking for my opinion or not.
“We did come out looking for people,” I say quietly.
“Yeah, it makes sense,” he says after a moment of silence. He looks back to Beck. “Do you have any supplies?”
“Just what’s in the car,” Beck says. “Back at the house I have more.”
“Weapons?” Falk isn’t messing around.
“Just a couple,” Beck says.
“My Glock is back there, too,” Caesar offers. “I didn’t bring extra ammo, though.”
“Should we go get them?” Ryan asks.
“Yes,” Beck says. “Let’s collect what we can and search for more people. Emory’s campus might
“Where were you when it happened?” Falk asks. “How did you keep from getting caught up in it?”
“We were exploring the storm drains near Decatur,” Beck says. He rubs at a smudge on his jeans, and I wonder just what they’ve been walking through. A distinctly unpleasant smell comes from the group. “Caesar and Ryan are big into spelunking, so I said they ought to see what the city has to offer. Felt the ground shaking, but we were pretty deep in, and it took a while to get out. Some of the exits were blocked by rubble from the street. When we got back to the surface…well, we saw all this.”
Beck waves his arm in the direction of the street.
“Where were you?” Caesar asks. “Any idea what happened?”
“None,” Falk admits with a shake of his head. “We were downtown at the time. Took shelter in a MARTA tunnel. When we came back out, everyone was dead.”
“How did you end up out here?” Beck asks.
“I live near here,” Falk replies.
“Who’s this?” Beck asks, indicating me. He runs his tongue over his lips and gives me a smile. “I feel like I know you from somewhere.”
I swallow and start to respond, but Falk beats me to the punch.
“Hannah,” Falk says tersely. “Where are you headed now?”
Beck glances back and forth between me and Falk and raises his eyebrows. Ryan shuffles his feet, and Caesar stares at me closely. He widens his eyes, and I know he’s recognized me, but he doesn’t say anything.
“I was going to head home,” Beck says. “Try the landline.”
“Mine was dead,” Falk says. “What area are you in?”
“Near Emory.”
“You a student?”
“Faculty,” Beck says. “I teach anthropology. Caesar and Ryan live in Valdosta, right by the Florida border.”
“What do you do there?” Falk asks as he turns to the other two men. His questions are starting to sound like an interrogation, and Beck’s eyes narrow as his friends respond.
“I’m a state trooper,” Caesar says. “Ryan’s been working at the local airport, saving money for school.”
“I’m going for a law degree,” Ryan says, but Falk doesn’t look at him. His eyes are on Beck, and the two men are staring each other down. The silent interaction is unnerving.
“You were military,” Falk says with a very matter-of-fact tone.
“Yeah, briefly.” Beck’s throat bobs as he swallows.
“What branch?”
“Air Force. I was in communications.”
“Deployed?”
“No. Never called up.”
Falk nods slowly.
“What about you?” Beck asks.
“Army. Infantry.” Falk doesn’t offer any additional details. They continue to stare at each other until Caesar speaks up again.
“If the landlines are dead, we’ll have to gather more information another way,” he says. “We’ve got a car nearby.”
“I’ve tried several,” Falk replies. “All of the batteries are dead.”
“We’re parked just a couple of blocks from here,” Beck says. “Let’s at least give it a try.
After listening to Beck’s car try to turn over for a couple of minutes without starting, everyone gathers in the street to discuss our next move.
“We should stick together,” Beck says, “at least until we figure out what’s going on.”
Falk glances at me, but I’m not sure if he’s looking for my opinion or not.
“We did come out looking for people,” I say quietly.
“Yeah, it makes sense,” he says after a moment of silence. He looks back to Beck. “Do you have any supplies?”
“Just what’s in the car,” Beck says. “Back at the house I have more.”
“Weapons?” Falk isn’t messing around.
“Just a couple,” Beck says.
“My Glock is back there, too,” Caesar offers. “I didn’t bring extra ammo, though.”
“Should we go get them?” Ryan asks.
“Yes,” Beck says. “Let’s collect what we can and search for more people. Emory’s campus might
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