State of Pursuit (22 page)

“And what if Canada and Mexico end up turning their backs on us?” a woman in a Navy uniform asks. “What if we succeed in pushing Omega out and they decide to stay here?”

“What if Omega succeeds in invading our country and
they
stay here?” I say, standing up suddenly. My voice wavers for a moment. “Here’s the truth: Omega is going to destroy us. Period. We are doomed if we don’t get help. Grassroots militia groups and the remains of a National Guard force will only do so much. We need
more
than that.

“The survival of the only free nation left on the planet is at stake. Our lives are at stake. We have to get united on this. Right now, the only reason that we’re able to meet in Sacramento is because of what Canada and Mexico has done in the north and in the south. Without them, Omega would have held San Francisco and San Diego and we’d be pushed out of here, too.”

“How do we know we can trust the alliance?” Colonel Rivera growls.

“You’re a fool if you think that we can win this on our own,” I reply. The room falls silent. “We need help. Desperately.” I step into the aisle, overcome with a
powerful urge to say what needs to be said. “Look, I’ve been in this fight since day one. I have seen what Omega has done, just like everyone else in this room. I saw what they did to the city I grew up in. And I’ve seen what they’ve done to my friends and family.” I take a breath and steady my voice. “I’ve held my friends in my arms as they’ve bled to death on the battlefield,” I say, softer. “I’ve seen children digging through garbage in the gutter just to stay alive.” I open my arms up. “And you think there’s some kind of question about whether or not we should accept help? We are
dying
, my friends. This is it. We won’t get a second chance. So make the right choice. For God. For country. Whatever it is you believe in. Please. An alliance will help us. Choose the destruction of Omega, because that holds the promise of freedom. This is the right thing to do.”

I clench my fists, the rush of determination making my speech bolder.

“I think it was Ben Franklin who said that if the revolutionary war heroes didn’t hang together, they would all hang separately,” I continue. “I’m not a great historian, but let’s look at the facts. If we
don’t
stand united, Omega will take us down. But together, we stand a chance.
I
choose freedom.
I
choose to fight, even if it means I might die. Because I won’t live like this, in Omega’s shadow. There’s too much at stake. Stand
together. Right now, unity is our most powerful weapon. Let’s utilize it. We can do it.” I look at Lockwood. “We just have to make the right choice
now
.”

Thick tension settles over the room. I turn around and look at Chris. He is staring at me, and then he tips his head in a slight nod. In the back, somebody starts clapping. It’s probably my dad. He
would
. It’s followed by more applause, and then the audience above our heads is standing up, and so are the rebel leaders in the room.

And I realize that they are clapping for me.

For all of us.

It seems to go on forever, until the applause is broken by the Speaker of the House.

“Well said, Commander Hart,” Lockwood speaks. “Unite or die. Freedom or enslavement. It is a harsh truth, but a truth nevertheless.”

“Hart is right,” Angela says. “We must stand united.”

“I agree,” a man in a Marine uniform says. “Liberty or death. The options are clear, and we have to make the choice to form a united front.”

There is a tumultuous bout of cheering and agreement from the civilians in the seats above. The officers in the Senate Chambers are lifting their fists into the air, shouting things like, “Liberty or death!” and “Hart is right, we need to join the Alliance!”

“The majority vote rules,” Lockwood says. “California will join the Alliance, and together, we will combine with the states of the west coast, as well as the countries of Mexico and Canada, in our stand against Omega’s invasion.”

More cheering. More raised fists. More backslapping. I have not moved from my standing position, and a feeling of sweet relief sweeps over me.

This is the right thing to do. I can feel it.

“California must have representation to the Alliance,” Lockwood continues. “As such, I propose that we appoint a senator to represent California’s interests in the negotiations with representatives from the Pacific Northwest Alliance: Washington, Oregon, Canada and Mexico.”

“We need someone who understands what we have been through,” Dad interjects. “Somebody who knows what’s at stake.”

“Where will these negotiations take place?” someone asks.

“That has yet to be determined,” Lockwood replies.

“Will we be negotiating between the states and countries – or will we also be negotiating with Omega?” Angela asks.

“Both,” Lockwood says. He is silent for a moment. And for some reason, I know what is going to happen before it does.

“Any nominations?” he asks.

“I nominate Cassidy Hart.” Angela stands at her desk. She does not look at me.

“I second that nomination,” Dad says.

Oh, God. No. Not me. Please
.

Why did I have to open my mouth and talk?

“I support the nomination as well,” Chris says. He stands.

The room is a chorus of agreement. The majority of the rebel leaders – Colonel Rivera excluded – are on their feet, and the audience is in an excited frenzy. I feel ill. Overwhelmed.

Why me…?

People all around me are talking. There is noise, activity. The militia leaders and military officers are speaking to each other, and many of them are…smiling. They are happy. I look at Chris. He squeezes my shoulder. I can see pride in his eyes.

“The decision is unanimous, Commander Hart,” Lockwood booms. His voice is a blur in the background. “You have been nominated for the position of Interim State Senator to represent California in the Pacific Northwest Alliance.”

I am dazed. I stare at him, nodding vaguely. I feel myself move my head, and I know the instant that I do that I am committed on an entirely new level. This is bigger. This is different. This is new.

I scarcely believe it when I say, “I accept.”

Because the words have to be spoken.

“Thank you, Commander Hart,” he says. “Ladies and gentleman, I present to you: Senator Cassidy Hart of the Great State of California.”

More applause. I am burning up, flushed with energy and excitement and the realization that this is a
good
thing. We are building a stable, structured system with which to fight Omega. We are allying ourselves with strong countries and friends. We are pooling our resources. We are standing united.

Hope blossoms in my chest.

This truly
is
new.

Militia leaders that I have never seen before flood to my desk, shaking Chris’s hand and mine. Angela embraces me for the first time in…well, ever. My father walks through the crowd and I throw my arms around his neck.

“We made it,” I say.

“Yes,” he replies. “We did.” He smiles. “Senator.”

I shake my head. Chris gives me a gentle hug. He whispers softly,

“You did the right thing.”

I look at his face.

“I know,” I reply.

And it is not a lie.

The commotion inside the Senate Chambers exudes a positive, vibrant energy. These people are filled with hope. It is infectious, and it is the first time since the EMP hit Los Angeles that I have felt this much encouragement. It is a miracle. I find myself closing my eyes and saying a silent prayer of thanks.

We have come so far…and although we still have a long way to go, we have accomplished much. Chris and I leave the Senate Chambers, Dad and Angela following us. Colonel Rivera has been lost somewhere in the crowd, and that is fine with me. I am no longer afraid of his wrath. I did what needed to be done, and it was the right thing.

Vera, Alexander, Uriah, Andrew and Manny are waiting for us in the hallway.

“You’re crazy,” Vera states.

That is all she says, but there is a slight smile on her face. Slight. Uriah is grinning like a proud older brother, and Alexander seems almost at ease.

“Not bad, Cassidy,” Andrew comments.

“Well, Senator,” Manny exclaims. “The world awaits you.”

“So dramatic,” I laugh. “Thank you, Manny.”

“For…?”

“For everything.”

I am overcome with the solemnity of the fact that everyone around me – at some point or another – has played a part in all of us getting this far. Especially Manny.

“Shall we adjourn to the great outdoors?” Manny suggests, winking. “It’s a little stuffy in here. All these politicians.”

Chris chuckles.

“They’re hardly politicians,” he says.

“Let’s just get outside,” I agree.

We follow the hallways, descend the staircase and leave the Capitol Building. It is a beautiful day, and from where we stand on the front steps, we have a perfect view of the entire boulevard, ending with the yellow bridge that crosses the Sacramento River.

“Everything’s different now,” I say. Just loud enough for Chris to hear me. “It’s all going to change.”

“Change is a good thing,” Chris replies, touching my cheek.

We walk to the edge of the park, cross the street, and stop at a water fountain surrounded with rose bushes.
One library building sits on each side of the fountain, graced with Greek marble statues.

I meet Chris’s gaze, and I feel the camaraderie of the people around me – Vera included. I wrap my fingers around Chris’s hand and look back at the Capitol. Maybe it represents more than just a meeting place. Maybe it represents the starting point of a new era. Of something better. Of recovery and strength and rebuilding.

“Let’s go home,” I say.

As the words pass my lips, a deep, jarring rumble breaks the silence of the quiet Capitol grounds. It is a sound and a feeling that I am all too familiar with. The windows near the corner of the Capitol Building shatter, sending shards of glass through the air. I am knocked off my feet. I hit the ground on my knees. Chris grabs my arm and we crouch on the cement, behind the fountain and the roses. Billows of ash and dust rise from the base of the stately structure. There is screaming in the distance. Somewhere, a siren wails.

I stare in abject horror. The soldiers roll in and the security units engage.

And I watch as the dome of the Capitol Building collapses in a cloud of smoke and fire.

Epilogue

Tick, tock
.

Time. Not so long ago, it was important to me. I lived my life on a clock. Time to get up. Time for breakfast. Time for work. Time for lunch.

It was always precious. Never enough minutes in the day.

It’s odd to me, then, how little time means anymore. The days blur together and the hours of the clock become one. I have no appointments to keep, no friends to meet with. My life is a never-ending cycle of grinding, gritty, warfare. The days become weeks and the weeks become months. There is no pause in the brutality that is found here.

I am twenty years old. The girl who left Los Angeles afraid and unsure after an EMP last year no longer exists. She has been remade.

The girl is gone. The soldier remains.

I have lost everything. My home, my friends, my country. But I have gained so much, too. My father, Chris, my fellow soldiers and the men and women that fearlessly went into the heart of Los Angeles to rescue their commander. There might be destruction, but I have found great loyalty. There might be death, but I have found life. There might be hatred, but I have found
love. There is still hope. There is still a chance. For those of us who are willing to fight back, the situation is not as bleak as it seems.

The war has only just begun.

And I’m ready for it.

To Be Continued in

Book Five of The Collapse Series

Acknowledgements

Writing a series is somewhat like an endless state of pursuit – a constant race to create a story that will do the characters justice and open audience’s imaginations to new adventures and dramas. This book was one of the most detailed novels I have ever written. From combat uniforms to tactical strategies,
State of Pursuit
would not exist without the technical expertise and experience of Don Lane. Cassidy Hart and Chris Young have survived the apocalypse because of him. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I am also immeasurably grateful for the editing work by Dave Hudiburgh, a seasoned veteran himself and a wonderful friend. I want to thank my mother and my brother for being incredibly supportive of the work that I do, in addition to my grandparents, Pete and Nancy. You are all wonderful and I love you very much!

The online community of bloggers and book reviewers has been unendingly supportive of The Collapse Series, and you have my eternal gratitude! Thank you to my many writer friends – you know who you are! – who have been there for me during this crazy, wonderful journey. Thank you James and Janice White. I would not be a writer at all if it weren’t for you two. I love you both. Thank you Ellen Mansoor Collier, for
being an ardent supporter of my writing endeavors, and for being my friend.

To my friends and my family that has been so warm and welcoming to a girl that writes stories for a living – thank you. Your kindness will never be forgotten. In just a little over one year’s time, I have been able to publish four bestselling novels, start a publishing company, develop a creative writing curriculum program and begin work on many other exciting and wonderful projects. That in itself is a testament to the grace and goodness of God’s blessing. Without Him I would not have the gift of writing, and Cassidy Hart and Chris Young would have never existed. I am always and forever grateful for this. God is good.

Romans 8:28

About the Author

Summer Lane is the author of the national bestselling Collapse Series, which currently includes
State of Emergency, State of Chaos, State of Rebellion
and
State of Pursuit
. She owns
WB Publishing
,
Writing Belle
, and is the founder of
The Art of Storytelling
, a creative writing curriculum program for children. She is also a creative writing teacher and journalist.