The desert woman stood, then exited through the doors that led outside.

     "Okay, now what?" Skip asked Claudia.

     "Get me out of your butt," Claudia said. 

     She'd already slid herself out enough so that Skip could reach back and pull her all the way out.

     "Your shoes should be around here somewhere," she said.

     Skip had no problem finding them amongst the rest of the slashed and discarded clothing. 

     He put them on. 

     "Okay, now what?" he asked.

     "Out the door. The hover won't come to us. We've got to get to a terminal."

     Skip took a single step outside...

     and, damn.

​     "It's an oven!" he yelped, "and I mean a microwave oven! Where's that terminal? I'll make a run for it!"

     "To your left."

     "It's so hot, I..."

     "Your other left, Skip."

     The desert woman who'd been sitting next to him ran up to Skip to throw a poncho over his head.

     The look in her eyes asked, what are you, some kind of pale skinned idiot running around naked in the desert?

     She now, herself, wore sandals and a robe.

     She led them down the street.

     A street now so full of corpses Skip could not possibly make his way around them but had to step on them to follow the woman.

     He slipped on blood with every step...

     and not just the blood of humans. 

     Skip no longer saw a living toad anywhere he looked.

     He saw several with severed throats. 

     He saw others decapitated entirely.

     He saw still others with holes through their torsos or skulls made by laser or rifle fire.

     Green blood mixed with red blood to make a sickly gray color.

     "What in the fuck happened here?" Skip asked.

     "Keep moving," Claudia replied.

CONTINUE