A snippet from my first book!

Sweat begins to appear on the palms of my hands. We are driving through town. I'll usually drive no faster than 15  mph, which is slow, but necessary in order to see everything. I still  have hope that we might discover another person, somewhere. After  my horrid dream of reliving life with Joshua, I want desperately to  find someone. Anyone. 

 “Come on. Show yourselves,” I mutter quietly, trying not to upset  Cole. We've already circled our neighborhood. It is in the historic Broad  Street area of Charleston. The clouds are grey and looming, broody  clumps in the sky. It might rain soon. I blast the heat, sending warm  air out of the SUV vents. Empty vehicles line the streets, parked in  the same places they were when everyone vanished. You'd think  some cars would be on the roads, as if driving still, but no.  Everything has order to it, which feels extraordinarily creepy. Turning by the waterfront, I keep my eyes peeled on every  business. The surf shop I used to love so much now has an eerie air  to it. I slow to a stop by the front, inspecting the bay windows. The  reflection of our SUV stares back at me. I can see myself, an image  of a woman with long disheveled hair clad in a red puffy jacket,  sitting in the driver’s seat. I look unrecognizable, like a stranger. Nothing moves inside the store. It is still empty. Everything is  foreign now and potentially hiding danger, so we must keep alert. The restaurants and souvenir stores are also empty. My eyes zero in on every minute detail, looking for any signs of something  different. 

 “Can we play in the sand, Mommy?” Cole's voice breaks my captive thoughts. 

 “Not yet, baby. Once we go on our route, and clear everything,  then yes, we can stop and play.”    He nods at me in the rear-view mirror. I feel a twinge of guilt for  denying him time to enjoy himself. We have to keep moving, though.  Finally, we reach the end of the road bordering the water. I turn  inland. Large homes, southern style, with porches and palmetto  trees, dot the landscape. We are in another nice area of Charleston,  like where our neighborhood is. Historic homes are undoubtedly the  norm. I hate this part of town. Creeps me out. My thoughts begin to take on a terrifying tone as I look closely at  each home, half expecting to see a ghostly face in a window, peering  back at me. Daintily painted facades stand tall. Their front porches  are a remnant of what once was, as an echo of the past.  

 Get it together Malia. You're almost done with this section. I exhale softly and reposition my fingers on the steering wheel. I  just want this drive to be done already so I can breathe without  anticipating running into someone. The anxiety is horrible today. 

Screech! 

I slam on the brakes. Something dark moved fast in front of us, in  the road. 

 “What is it?” Cole’s tiny voice asks. His book flew onto the floor in front of him because of the SUV’s  erratic movements. My heart is racing, thundering in my ears. I can’t react. Fear grips my mind. There is someone in the road. Finally, we found movement. 

The gun, Malia. Get the gun. 

I feel blindly along the base of my seat, until my fingers touch cool  metal. My concealed gun box is there. Using the fingerprint scanner, I open it, pulling out the weapon. It is already loaded but has the  safety on. Shakily, I put the gun on the dash as I move the SUV from  ‘drive’ to ‘park’.  “Mom. Are you ok?” 

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Thump. My heart pumps blood throughout my veins. I am acutely aware of  its mechanisms as I steady myself to face the person we've almost  run over.

  “Mommy?” Cole sounds more urgent, and I finally process what he is trying to  say. 

 “Cole, it's ok. I saw something, someone. I need to check. Stay in  the car. In your seat. Do you understand?”

 I turn to look at his little face. His dark eyes are a mirror image of  his dads. He nods at me. I nod back, briefly reaching back to touch  his leg. Breathe. In. Out. My left hand grabs the door handle as my right holds onto the gun.  I push the door open and quickly exit. The air is chilled, and the  natural light is low as the sky is fully clouded. With my arm fully  extended, I grip the gun, flicking the safety off. 

 “Who is there?? Come out!” I use my best authoritative voice. The one from being a game  warden. I've yelled at many a man back in my old job, who weren't  following hunting laws. I hear absolutely nothing in response. The  familiar whoosh sound pelts my eardrums, it’s rhythm staggeringly  loud. My heart is beating in my ears. Struggling to ignore it, I quickly  move in front of the SUV. Seeing nothing, I turn sharply to the left, then to the right.  Something black flashes from a porch. Stifling my instinct to scream,  I look closer. A cat! Uncontrollably, I shudder. This drive today has given me the  heebie-jeebies since we started. All domestic pets had disappeared  when the rest of the people did, that terrible morning. Our next door neighbors' St. Bernard dog vanished, as did the two little terriers  on the other side of us. So how did this cat get here?  Remembering Cole, I walk back quickly and get into the SUV,  clicking the door locks on after I am inside. It is just a small cat, but  I’m not going to mess around. My hand shakes. I look down and see I am still holding the gun. I engage the safety and put it on the dash.  Taking a deep breath and holding it in before exhaling, I try to focus.  What is supposed to happen next? 

 “Mommy?” I turn my head to see his hand pointing in front of us. Looking in the direction his tiny fingers are extending, a pair of  glowing yellow eyes stare back at us. It strikes terror in my heart.  Seeing another living thing so unexpectedly, after months alone, is  truly frightening. 

 “A kitty!” Cole's voice is happy, and I know he is excited to see the cat. 

 “It's got to be a stray. Has to be.” I mutter. I can't understand how it is there, unless it is wild. There are still  wild deer and birds and other animals everywhere, we see them while  out driving. Only the domesticated pets are gone. 

 “A stray, Mommy!”

 I nod my head. Lost in thoughts of where everyone went. “A stray.” 

 We sit for a few minutes, and eventually the cat skitters off, beyond  a house and from our sight. Cole is quiet, knowing I am deep in my  mind. Eventually though, something snaps, and I am catapulted back  into the now. I turn around in my seat and gingerly pick up his book, handing it back to him. I put the handgun into the gun safe under  my seat and engaged the 4Runner into ‘drive’, slowly accelerating us  away from the neighborhood. We can finish our route around main Charleston. Things will be ok, at least for now. The feeling of dread leaves me,  like a sharp object pin pricks a balloon, slowly releasing the air. I am fully deflated again, ready to get on with our schedule. We drive past  the courthouse, post office and many businesses. It is nearing  lunchtime so as promised, I drive back to the beach. The stretch  where Cole wants to play is empty, except for a few seagulls.

  “My pail, Mommy!” My tiny son runs squealing towards the birds, scaring them. Their  cries echo loudly in the empty streets. Finally, we made it out of the  warmth of the SUV into the seaside air.  He's so happy. I love seeing Cole laugh, or smile. This is what keeps me from  falling apart, from shutting down, or losing my sanity all together. I  live for these moments.

 “I'm coming! Don't go in the water, son!” I call out to him as I grab his beach toys from the basket in the  back. He meets me on the sand and helps me spread out our blanket.  I packed the special striped one that Joshua bought us to have  picnics on. Collapsing on the soft fibers, we use the toys to build a  huge sandcastle. The water is lapping on the shore haphazardly, the  colors melting with the brown of the sand.  For a minute, I’m not alone with Cole in the world.