searching for Haylee

Here is a little bit of the story I've been working on as of late. I won't be posting the whole thing, just some of the more important and interesting scenes (in my opinion, anyway). I'll be posting them in order so that it's more easy to follow.

This scene comes after the first part of the story in which the main character, Dakota, experiences the city basically being blown apart. She hides in her bathtub for several days while explosions and screams fill the streets. She has no idea what has happened, so, neither do you. :) She finally crawls out of the bathroom, exhausted, terrified, and as you'll see: thirsty. Enjoy.

I filled the mug with water and gulped greedily, ignoring the searing pain in my throat. I drank and refilled several times before finally setting it, still half full, on the cracked countertop. As I took my hand away from it, the water in the mug began to tremble. I listened carefully for evidence of more explosions, anything that might be causing the floor to shake again, but there was silence. The water continued to shiver. A cry broke through the air. My muscles froze and I clamped my hand against the counter for support. Someone was yelling outside. I turned and plunged toward the door.
The street was in ruins. The gray half-light illuminated crumbled buildings and smoldering cars. Dust rolled through the streets like fog, melting shapes and colors. Everything was gray, still, and quiet. Finally, a deep sob broke the silence, sounding closer than before. A figure emerged from the smog, stumbling through the wreckage in the street. He looked young, no more than twenty, with thick dark hair plastered against pale skin. His shirt hung in shreds and his forehead was bleeding. "Haylee!" he choked. He passed the back of his hand over his eyes and stumbled forward. "Haylee!" he cried again, his voice raw. He drew level with the open door and fell to his knees, consumed by a fit of heavy sobs that shook his broad shoulders. He pulled his hands furiously through his dark hair again and again. After a moment, he pushed himself from the ground. "HAYLEE!!!" he screamed, thick with pain. Without really knowing what I was doing, I stepped out onto the stoop.
He stared at me, surprise in his dark eyes, his face slick with dirt and tears. The relief faded immediately and he choked back a sob. I took a step down the stairs toward him. "Stay right there!" he choked again, putting his hand out in front of him. His face was angry now and, unbelievably, afraid. I took another step onto the street. "I SAID DON'T MOVE!" he screamed. I froze, my heart pounding. Tears spilled onto his torn shirt and he hung his head, sucking in deep breaths. After a second he looked up again, his arms limp at his side. "If you're one of those things, I swear to God..." he trailed off, sounding defeated. I remained frozen, suddenly unsure if I was dreaming or awake. "Where's my sister?" he pleaded in a raw whisper. I took another step toward him. He recoiled. "Please," he begged, "please. Where's my sister?"
"I... I'm Dakota." I finally choked. His face froze with shock as if he had been expecting anything else but for me to speak to him. "I... live here." I added, as if that would clarify. He shook his head back and forth very slowly for a moment.
"You're not one of them?" he said, almost silently. I took another step toward him and this time he didn't retreat.
"I don't know who you mean, but it's just me here. You're the only other person I've seen." He stared silently. "You're... you're bleeding." I added, feeling foolish. He stared in shock for one more moment and then composed his face into a fierce mask.
"If you're not one of those things, than what the hell are we standing around for?" His voice was bitter as he spun on his heel and pounded away down the street. "Haylee!" he resumed his yelling, harder this time and determined. I did the only thing that I could think of to do and followed him, calling his sister's name at intervals, more quietly and self-consciously.
We walked on another block or so. I finally pulled up even with him as he continued to call for her, the grey air rolling by like waves. We rounded a corner and heard rustling near a dumpster ahead of us. He threw out his arm and stopped me, knocking the breath out of my lungs. "Haylee?" he asked, his voice shaking. I figure slowly appeared through the dust from behind the dumpster. "Peter?" a tiny voice called.
It took only one moment for him to confirm her identity and then he rushed forward, pulling her into his chest. They looked remarkably alike, even through the dense fog. They wore the same thick black hair, except that hers fell to her shoulders in big waves. He was only slightly taller than her, with a more muscular build, but they had the same oval face slick with tears and twisted with relief. He took her head in his hands and examined her face eagerly. He was searching, I was immediately sure, for any signs of hurt or damage. She equally surveyed him and placed a trembling white hand against the gash on his forehead. When he was apparently satisfied that she was unhurt, he choked another sob and repeated her name in a whisper. He began to speak fervently into her face, shaking her gently with his big hands.
"You stupid, selfish asshole," he said with a pained face that did not show any hint of anger. "How the hell did you get here any why, why would you do this to me?" Unexpectedly, she smiled, though tears still traced down her face.
"Peter, I am so sorry. I can’t imagine what you've been through this morning." Even their voices were alike.
"I could kill you," he said, though not convincingly, there was still no trace of anger in his voice. "How did you get here?" he repeated. Her hands dropped to her sides and she looked embarrassed though she did not look away from his face for a moment.
"I don't know," she said finally. "I woke up here and then I heard you calling me."
"You woke up here?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows.
"Yes. I'm sorry." I could not doubt for one second that she meant it.
"I woke up and you weren't..." his throat closed around the words and he swallowed to continue, "you weren't there. I didn't know... I couldn’t..." She covered his hands with her own.
"I'm so sorry, Peter," she said again. He closed his eyes and she added with a soft smile, "Let's go home."
She turned her eyes on me for the first time. She gasped and staggered back. The sound made me jump and made Peter look in my direction as if he had forgotten that I was there.
"It's ok," he said, though I wasn't sure who the words were meant for.
"She's not...?" Haylee began, staring at me with wide eyes.
"No, I found her when I was looking for you." She looked at me with calculating eyes for another long moment and then came toward me in three quick steps, taking my head in her hands like her brother had taken hers. I stared into her pale face, my heart pounding in my chest.
"Are you alright?" she asked me, her eyes concerned. All I could do was nod my head. She pulled my arm over her shoulders, taking some of my weight onto her own small frame. After a moment, I felt Peter's arm slide around my waist and together they dragged me back up the dark and damaged streets. I was unconscious before we had even passed my apartment again.