Afterburn (Next, #1)

by Scott Nicholson

priests seem to be either dead or Zap.” DeVontay shouldered his M16 and caught up with her so they could walk side by side. He took her slim right hand with his left and gave it a squeeze. “Living in sin is okay with me.” Rachel squinted up at the hidden sun and whatever force, if any, lay beyond it. “I’m not sure sin exists anymore. Maybe we paid that debt.” Grass poked up through cracks in the highway, bent under the weight of yellow seeds. Waist-high weeds grew along the shoulders in alternating bands of briars, goldenrod, and tiny periwinkle flowers. Here and there were gravel turnouts that led up to blank and brooding houses, but

anything?” Rachel said as she subconsciously drifted to the opposite side of the road. The sedan had bottomed out in a ditch, and the corpses inside had long ago gone to bone. Those unlucky travelers had endured the solar storms with their windows down, so their flesh had both rotted fast and been raided by scavengers. But at least they hadn’t been collected by the Zaps. DeVontay poked the barrel of his rifle through the open window. “Just like before. Never noticed this guy wore a wedding ring, though.” “You have marriage on the brain all of a sudden?” “Beats thinking about whatever’s waiting in Stonewall.” Rachel’s voice fell.

been far worse. In the second year, thick smoke from burning cities required them to wear gas masks. No doubt they were courting lung cancer, and the air still bore a faint scorched odor, but breathing freely was worth the risk. As they resumed their march, DeVontay fished a canteen from his pack. He gulped down a drink and passed it to Rachel. The water was stale but clean, carefully filtered. She splashed some into her palm and rubbed the back of her neck. “Maybe we should turn around,” DeVontay said. “We