MAP OF HARRISBURG (c. July 11th, 2021 - Reclamation Day)

*It was estimated that around 60,000 soldiers and volunteers fought against the vector horde in the Battle of Harrisburg. Around 24.8 million people (civilians + service members) lost their lives throughout the twenty-day Delaware Campaign.

——

The forest's expanse gave way to open grounds of farmlands, farmhouses cropped up here and there, some half a mile apart. I was glad to see them after driving through too much green. The sunbaked road turned to asphalt, the smell of dry grass and tar, the whiskery barley giving way to civilization—a post office there, rotting shacks and barns, street lights, a rural bus stop, a roadhouse diner with the CLOSED sign. We were back on track.

The further we drove, the more the houses pressed against each other until they looked about the same in their dictatorial and manicured HOA kind of way, now sure that we had reached the city's northern suburbs. I glanced down at the map to confirm it: Centennial Park.

The backroad was rarely used by the residents; I could tell from the cracks and gaping holes on the asphalt, just some off-beaten path toward the woods for hikes and trails. There was only one regular road out of the suburbs, a bridge over a small creek south of the neighborhood, and I'm guessing that was where the military would make camp to blockade the area—a chokepoint.

"What the hell happened here?" Alfie muttered behind me. I looked out of the window, watching the half-open houses and their broken windows, the owner's luggage strewn on the front yard, the cars left abandoned on the driveway. Then a cat bounced out of one open window, running through the front yard then the sidewalk, disappearing behind some hedges. The sight wasn't out of the ordinary like other abandoned towns and cities across the Red Zone. However, Centennial Park was an affluent neighborhood with dozens of McMansions, the streets tagged with a high-income zip-code.

"I think they evacuated this neighborhood in a rush," Yousef said. "And a bad job at that."

I shook my head. "They evacuated the rich people out. Yeah. But I think the others broke in and took the shit they left behind." Of what value they are now, I wouldn't know. I doubt printed paper buys luxury these days.

I looked around each corner and intersection and also checked up on the CCTV cameras we set up around the RV. So far, no signs of vectors, but I held on to our luck tighter nonetheless. From the side mirror, I watched our little convoy drove slowly and quietly through the street, the frat boys from the truck gawking and pointing at the nicer mansions. Logan, Miguel, and Jun guarded the tail while driving the Honda Civic.

My eyes landed on the rearview camera, which showed the van with the gnome and the dildos. The passenger side window was open, a woman lounging on the seat with her feet sticking out without a care. Any vector could have reached in and pulled her out quickly. The driver, a man with a goatee, seemed to be smoking, and when he let out a breath, smoke drifted out of the open driver's side window! I groaned inwardly, almost wanting to smack some sense into them. At least Colin and his family had a good instinct to put metal gratings over the minivan's windows even though a few punches would knock it loose. They didn't secure it adequately enough. Things to talk to them about later if we're going to survive this.

"There!" Haskell shouted, pointing ahead. "I see them."

"Oh, thank God! I thought we're not going to find them," Alfie said.

"They looked armed," Yousef pointed out. "And they don't look happy to see us."

"No one looks happy when you try to go up against their rear end without any invitation, dude. This is supposed to be a secret gate, remember?' Haskell said.

The soldiers had blockaded the entire street, extending for at least two blocks, with chain-linked fences, barbed wire, and put up multi-purpose blue tarp sheets to obscure the other side and the bridge. Two watchtowers flanked the sliding gate with a soldier on each tower, connected by a platform over the entrance where two more soldiers now trained their rifles at us, but they didn't pull the trigger. Hanging by the gates were the logos of FEMA, Red Cross, and CRA together, then other signs with the biohazard symbols strewn along the walls, announcing: MASKS ON. NO WEAPONS. HEALTH CARDS REQUIRED FOR CROSSING. Another sign detailed and labeled some of the symptoms of infection: VISIBLE BITES. FEVER. LETHARGY. MOOD SWINGS. BLOODSHOT AND TWO PUPIL EYES. NOSE BLEEDS. VIOLENT BEHAVIOR. IF SEEN, REPORT & STAY OUT! DO NOT TOUCH!

I had no idea how many soldiers were inside, but there were at least four by the gate. One of the soldiers hailed for us to stop, and Haskell obliged.

"What now?" Haskell asked, but then he did a double-take, squinting at the soldier on the platform. "Hey! That's Alex up there." He grinned widely.

Alex had close-cropped hair like the other male soldiers, brawny for a short guy, black hair over bushy eyebrows, big round eyes, and a snub nose.

Peter peered out of the windshield and nodded. "I thought he'd be the first one to bite it. I didn't know he had it in him."

"I reckon you two know him?" I asked.

"Yep. Part of our class," Haskell said. "Dumb son of a bitch, though."

"And the other guys?"

Haskell glanced at their faces. "Um, I don't know them. The one in the watchtower looks somewhat familiar, but no. Can't really tell how many of West Point made it out of Albany. But if Alex Garrett made it out, a lot of them probably did."

"Let's hope Captain Ramos isn't one of them," Peter said.

I flinched, an image of a man towering over me. Ramos was the guy who shot me on the leg, spilling out the fucked up things he wanted to do to me once he got his hands on my flesh, and it didn't hit me until that moment that he was not joking. I had no plans of meeting him again. From what I gathered with Haskell and Peter, he held grudges for life. And I just gave him one by humiliating his team when I fought them in the woods. And killed one of his men. Even though it was by Henry's hand, he probably blamed me for that, too.

Haskell's smile quickly dropped. "Oh, fuck. I burnt a lot of bridges with that guy."

"Can't say he'll really put a welcome mat if we showed our handsome faces."

"Nothing handsome when he's hammering nails into your cheeks. You burnt more bridges with him after Albany and got him chewed out by the CO. You know how he was when he fucked up or when he believes someone screwed him over, even though he deserves it."

Peter shrugged. "What can I say? I hate his guts. Damn, feel good doing it, too."

Haskell shook his head, chuckling. "You and your weird kinks."

I turned to Alfie. "Take Indy to the cabin and keep him inside. I don't want him to suddenly run out of the door." And get shot. I shuddered.

Alfie nodded. "Hey, Indy! Come on, boy! Follow me!" Alfie raised two fingers and pretended he got a treat between them.

Indy hesitated at first, looking at me then back to Alfie, but decided Alfie probably had food, so he went after him. He got tricked, and Alfie shut him inside the room quickly. His soft pawing against the wood echoed. Sorry, bud.

The sliding gate opened. Four more soldiers streamed out, their rifles aimed at the RV. The leader, a woman with black hair put up into a ponytail, approached first, shouting for us to get out.

"Let me and Haskell do the talking," Peter insisted to me. "They're part of my class, especially Alex. Hopefully, they'll recognize Haskell and me." He scratched his stubbly beard, probably realizing he should have shaved it.

"I want to hear what he has to say," I said. "I'll keep quiet as long as I get to listen in."

"Fine. I can tell him you're military. Hell, you already looked the part." Peter smiled, but then he dropped it. "What if they're not letting the others in?"

"Let's cross our fingers that they will."

Peter gently grasped my hand. "I'll make sure we make it across, Bren. I promise. You and me."

I drew my hand back from his touch and let out a smile, hoping that I wouldn't offend him. Though, I couldn't read his reaction. "Good to know. I'm glad we're on the same page then. For everyone."

"Alright," Peter said. "Er, make sure to take your weapons out. I don't want to give any of them a reason to shoot."

Peter and Haskell got out first with their hands raised, making sure they did not have any weapons. I followed close behind with hands raised over my head, my weapons left inside the RV, though I got a magnum .22 revolver and a knife strapped on each ankle, hidden by my pants. I observed the soldiers, noting the two hatchbacks I could take cover from when they started shooting. One was ten feet away, and I calculated how I would reach it without biting the bullet, but then Alex's shouts from up the platform pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Holy fucking shit! Look what the cat dragged out! Is that you, Gauthier? Hoss?"

"Yeah. It's us, Alex," Peter said with a leveled tone. He stared down the barrel of the woman's rifle, but she quickly lowered it when Alex recognized him.

"You know this guy?" The woman asked. Her name tag said: Garcia. She was tall and willowy, though I had no doubt that she could put up a good fight when called for. She stared us down like how I would look at a vector.

"Hell yeah! He's a cadet from West Point like me, Garcia. We got assigned on Albany together, thought the fucker was dead. Hold on. I'm gonna climb down."

Garcia gave a curt nod to the others, and they swiftly lowered their weapons. I relaxed and put my hand down, not letting it show on my face that I was glad there wasn't a gun pointed at me anymore. I kept my hands in their plain view, letting them know I wouldn't pull any stunts unless I had to. Garcia kept giving me odd looks, sizing me up. A smirk crossed her lips, and I realized she didn't deem me a threat. None of them did. They looked at Peter more—bigger and stronger—and thought he was more dangerous than the short lanky stick next to him.

The soldiers' attention suddenly shifted over my shoulders, and I turned around to find the others had gotten out of their vehicles. I gestured for them to stop and glad that they did. I mouthed to Colin to stay back, and he extended his hand out to push the others back from getting closer.

Alex went out of the gate and strode toward Peter, extending his hand out, and Peter took it. Alex pulled his arm and drew him into a hug. "Good to see you, brother." Alex went over to Haskell and gave him the same gesture. "When Nunes says some West Point cadets are going to be using this gate, I didn't know it'll be you two assholes."

"Well, glad to see you made it out of Albany, Alex," Peter said, chuckling. "I didn't know a bitch like you can survive that."

"Ha! Ha. I see your mouth is as rotten as it has been, Gauthier."

"I keep it sharp."

"Do you know how many got out?" Haskell asked.

Alex laughed. "About half of our class. I know! More than you think? Crazy, right? Hell, I thought we were done for! I guess you can thank General Clemons for that."

"General Clemons is still alive?" I asked, hoping.

"Fuck yeah, he is! He did a tactical retreat, neighborhood by neighborhood. Still, once he secured enough routes out of the city, he initiated a caravan and got us all out before the nerve gas and napalm burnt the city to the ground. Five thousand out in a massive caravan and kept those monsters off our backs with heavy artillery and air support. We hit Binghamton first, then Scranton, and we continued all the way here to Harrisburg. Been here ever since. What about you?"

Peter answered, "After the walls fell, we fled into the woods, hoping we could scavenge what we found from town to town. Got into some rough scruples here and there, especially with the Alphas. You ever heard of them?"

The other soldiers chuckled. Alex laughed the loudest. "Have I fucking heard of those dumb fucks? Ha! They're everywhere, my man! Terrorists. All the lot of them. They gave us a ton of trouble as it is on the road, in Harrisburg, too, especially when Reclamation Day is fast approaching. Those Rambo, tough-shit wannabes are desperate to prolong this fantasy of theirs of being top dog in the Red Zone. We're gonna put a stop to that." He then looked at me. "Who the fuck is this?"

"That's, uh, Bren. Lieutenant Watts. He's a soldier from a town called Colby. He helped us get away from a lot of trouble."

"Really? Colby? That town's gone. Alpha territory," Alex said.

Garcia huffed. "Until a group took them out a month ago. Heard it all over my CO talking about it since they can now send supplies up to Buffalo and Syracuse without Alpha interference."

"I heard one guy took them out," another soldier commented.

"Heard it was some devil wolf himself," another one said.

"Shut up, Abel," Garcia hissed. "One guy can't take out the Alphas on their own, and certainly no devil wolf took them out, either. It's probably the infected that did it. Delaware County is an infested zone now."

"A lot of people who escaped Colby got here and are talking about it. They swore it was true," Alex said.

"Crazy people swear on anything. That's why they're called crazy. Or traumatized. Whatever fits." Garcia pointed at me. "How about you, lieutenant? Since you were there, you see anything that looked like a devil or a wolf?"

My eyes widened, trying to think of what to say. Peter gave me a look that said not to say anything, but my tongue had a mind of its own. "We fought them, but we got out as fast as possible." I then gestured toward the others. "We've been escorting these civilians since then, looking for the next SZ. As you can see, we haven't found that yet."

"Ah, yes. Nunes said something about that. The problem is that we're not supposed to take any civilians into the city since the president's announcement. You know how the military's pushing the campaign hard, right? They need the city cleared out before the fighting begins. We can't have civilians running around when we're putting down the infected. Bad for the press if we shot some innocent kid running around with his momma, especially when all major TV networks will be filming the event."

"Why's that?" Peter asked.

Alex shrugged. "It's supposed to boost morale, so CNN, MSNBC, and even Fox News have been filming across the city for days now to bolster support across the country."

"And Canada, don't forget," Garcia said. "We're gonna be on TV fighting monsters in two days. Gotta get good on that close-up for everyone, you know?" She cackled.

"Surely you can allow at least twenty-five civilians through the gates? I'm not asking you to take a hundred. Just the people you see in front of you," I said.

"I'm sorry, but the orders came from the top," Alex said. "You do know there are like three massive hordes converging toward Harrisburg, right? It's been all over the news. The entire city's on high alert and has been in a major evacuation for weeks. Then, about a week ago, the Alphas decided to interject, and they've been disrupting everything across the city. We haven't had a change of assignments for a long time."

"And good food," Abel muttered behind Garcia.

"Wait a sec," Peter held his hand up. "The Alphas are here?"

Alex answered, "Yeah. In Baltimore, DC, Lancaster, pretty much a coordinated attack. They bombed the rail yard yesterday, which is essential for our supply chain into the Red Zone in the coming months. That's gone. Poof! The top brass is fucking pissed, and they're not risking to let in civilians in case they work with the Alphas or are already infected."

"I can vouch for the people behind me that none of them are Alphas or infected," I said. I thought it would have been obvious given we had people of color in our group and the pride flag and Black Lives Matter literally hanging off the van with the dildos bobbing. No Alpha would dare invite us to join their exclusive club.

"Some of them might still be infected," Garcia added. "You never know."

"I've seen one turn into them, sir," I said. "You get sick real quick within four hours, and do they look sick to you?"

Garcia narrowed her gaze at me. "I don't quite like your tone, lieutenant."

"I don't mean anything by it. I'm just stating the obvious."

"We are not letting them in. Ever. Orders are orders."

"But—"

"Lieutenant Watts. Perhaps it is not obvious to you, but per CRA policy, civilians found outside the walls are required a three-day quarantine with 24/7 monitoring before integration into the Safe Zone. As you know, Reclamation Day is within two days. We won't have time to watch over civilians when we're too busy fighting the infected pouring into the city and securing routes for our men to safely cross the Red Zone. This gate is supposed to be for scouts only. You are supposed to send these civilians to the designated entryway for proper screening with professional doctors, or did you miss that during your briefing months ago?"

I bit back my tongue. I didn't think she would believe that I was one of them, but she was playing along, anyway. I bit back my tongue, yes...but only for a second. "It must have slipped my mind when we're too busy fighting those fuckers off our back and not dying."

Before Garcia could say anything, Peter interrupted her. "Who is your commanding officer?"

Alex shifted on where he stood. "Our CO is currently in HQ, but he'll be back tomorrow."

"Then, who's next in command?"

Garcia paused for a moment, then a smile crept on her lips. "I am."

Shit. I closed my eyes, trying to calm my breathing. "What am I supposed to do with these civilians?" I asked.

"Look around you, lieutenant," she said, gesturing toward the abandoned mansions. "Pick one."

——

"So, they're not letting us in?" Logan asked incredulously.

We had made camp in one of the mansions a couple of blocks away from the outpost, a five-bedroom house with an electronic gate and high enough walls for protection, but the electricity was out, so we had to push and slide the gates off manually. I didn't explain to everyone the details of my conversation with the soldiers aside from that they wanted us to camp out for the day outside the wall until they could properly assess us tomorrow or send a doctor for a check-up. Of course, all of that was bullshit. They weren't evaluating anything, and no doctor was coming, lies to keep everyone calm. I didn't want everyone to start panicking and start a shoot-out once they stopped complying. I had seen that at the Albany gates too many times.

However, I couldn't lie to the other guys, so I dragged them off toward the pool house for a private conversation.

"Not us! Just you and the rest aren't allowed in," Haskell corrected Logan, clearly wanting to get out of the argument. But Logan wasn't going to let him.

Logan rolled his eyes and said sarcastically, "Oh, my bad, Haskell. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. I'm sorry I didn't get it right after you said yes to the damn offer! You're abandoning us?"

"Hey, don't blame me for that, Logan! That was Bren's idea! He's the one who said yes."

Logan narrowed his gaze at me. "Is this true?"

I bit my bottom lip, trying to find the right words. Peter remained quiet, shooting daggers at Logan, though the boy shrugged it off by ignoring him completely. I didn't want to admit that I'm winging the entire thing. It wouldn't really boost anyone's confidence when someone had you by the balls, and you either croak and sing like a bird or ride the pain. After all, I'm the leader now. It would be pretty embarrassing to admit I am basically running this train blindly. Logan and the other guys might understand, given what we had been through, but I doubt the newcomers would go along with what I had planned. They don't trust me yet, I thought. It was best to keep it between Peter, Haskell, and me. Bad enough that I'm apparently on Garcia's bad side because of my damned mouth, a sliver away from barring the gates on my sorry ass and locking Harrisburg out for good.

I wouldn't let that happen.

I nodded to Logan. "Yes," I answered but said nothing further.

Logan held my gaze for longer than I'd like. I could see a million questions popping inside his head. I ignored the others' gasps and mutterings, Alfie and Yousef whispering to each other, Jun quietly observing from the corner...it was all a little too much. I needed to breathe.

"But why only you three?" Miguel hissed, pushing past Logan to get closer toward Peter and Haskell.

"They need more men," said Haskell. "They're willing to let you guys in next week after Reclamation Day ends, or once the military secured the city and allows survivors in, but...not right now. They are both fighting the Alphas, and the vectors inside the city, plus another horde is coming—"

"I don't want fucking excuses, Haskell. Why did you agree to go in there? We can't protect ourselves in this house! You said so yourself! A huge horde is coming. Ain't nothing about these walls gonna save us. Not tomorrow, and certainly not a week from now."

"The military could win this war," Yousef suggested.

Miguel whirled around, heaving a sigh. "I respect your optimism, Sef. I really do, but grow the fuck up."

"Hey! That's enough, Miguel!" I barked. "I'm not gonna have this group sink into bickering children, clawing for each other's throats! And no, we are not abandoning you. Do you think I would do that? After all that we've been through? Can't you trust me that I have a plan?"

"Why not tell us the plan?"

"I am telling you now! The plan is to stay put and wait."

"Seriously? That's the plan? To stay in this fucking cold mansion with strangers we barely know? And for how long? Watts, have you ever thought what they might do when they realize you'll be behind those walls and they're not?"

"And that's why you are all here to temper their concerns. Let them know that you trust me wholeheartedly. Besides, I am only going to be gone for one night. They can see we've all been together for a very long time. I doubt they'll believe I'll abandon you guys that quick. Consider this a recon mission and see what's behind those walls. And who knows? I might find a way through without those soldiers breathing over us."

Logan thinned his lips, foot tapping against the floor. He darted his gaze around, trying to find another thing to argue about, but everyone remained silent, contemplating what to do. "Alright," he finally said. "One night, Watts."

I sighed. "Thank you."

"I'm not wild about what the soldiers might do later," Alfie added. "They looked at our rig like a piece of meat, Bren. They're probably thinking of taking our guns and supplies. They're probably planning on doing that now. Call me paranoid."

I still had no idea what conditions the soldiers had lived in, but it wouldn't hurt to be prepared. "You make a good point, Al," I said. "Alright. Instead of one person, have three people up for watch duty every four hours. Keep them armed at all times. There are many of us here, so you guys can ask around for volunteers, especially those who know how to shoot a gun. I don't want any accidents. Tell them it comes from me and that I don't want people slacking off. Let's get to it." I stopped Miguel before he reached for the door. "Miguel. Do you have something to say to Yousef?"

Miguel paused for a moment, confused about what I meant, but then he let out a small smile. Sighing, he turned to face Yousef behind him. "Sef... I'm sorry about what I said earlier. The stress got the better of me. I give you, er, permission for one punch on my shoulder as hard as you can and I'm not gonna fight back.

Yousef smiled. "It's alright, bud. I get it," he said. "And I can hit you as hard as I can? Anytime?"

"Er...Yes?"

"Hm. Okay. Deal."

"So...are you gonna punch me now? Here. I'm ready. Give it your best shot."

Yousef laughed. "Ha! Yok, old man. That'd be too soon. I gotta stretch this out. It's fun that way."

Miguel groaned. "Fuck. I'm regretting it already."

"No take-backs."

"I didn't take you for a sadist, kid."

I stifled my laughter, glad that the others indulged my schemes a little even without grasping the whole picture. However, I was not looking forward to telling the newcomers, especially Colin and his brother Randy—the latter didn't like me too much. I doubted they would be understanding if I laid my entire plan like I did with Peter and Haskell. It was not because I was ashamed of it or scared of what they would think of me. I didn't give two fucks about what they think. I was more concerned about what they would do after learning it, and I didn't trust them yet. They wouldn't have the stomach for it anyway, I thought. Sometimes, I envied that.

I didn't notice Logan standing next to me. "Is it going to be dangerous?" He asked. I looked into his eyes, and I knew his concern was genuine.

I placed my hand on his shoulder and said, "Don't worry about me. I can handle this."

"It's my job to worry. I don't want to walk to Portland alone and your dad kind of scares me. So..."

"Hey. Chin up. I don't want you to get sappy with me. I'm not gonna lie that it's going to be risky and all, but what else is new?"

Logan studied my face for a brief moment; lips twitched. "Watts. Do both of us a favor and knock next time?"

I froze. The image of him sitting on the toilet with his cock out instantly replayed over my head. I knew that my cheeks were turning red, so I looked away, composing myself. "As long as you do it, too."

Logan's smile dropped. "Yeah. I don't know what I thought when I heard those noises."

"You don't recognize what people sound like when they're having sex?"

Logan covered his ears like a toddler. "Let's not talk about this! It's bad enough I got that image in my head. It's your fault I can't look at Miguel's magazines the same way ever again. I'm traumatized."

You and me both. "Aw, poor you. Not my problem that you're not getting laid."

"But you...doing it with Gauthier...bah. Never mind."

"What? What are you going to say?"

Logan shook his head. "Nothing important," he muttered, keeping his lips tight.

"Are we all okay here?" Peter called out from the door. "We're about ready to go."

"We're good." I adjusted my shirt and walked toward him. "And Logan, keep the others calm. Have Indy around, perhaps that might lessen the stress, but no one should ever go out alone in the dark. I'd hate to have someone die for stupid shit."

Logan jokingly gave me a half-salute. "Copy that, boss." He then grabbed my arm. "Remember: stay safe. No matter how crazy you're planning...just please, stay safe."

"Always. I'll be back soon." And no, Logan. You are not coming with me, no matter how much begging you do. I left the pool house and walked after Peter and Haskell, ignoring Logan, who tried to call me back for another talk.

Now, time to explain this to Colin and the others. I wasn't joking when I wanted to jump out of a window and just ditched the entire conversation.

——

I could feel Haskell fidgeting beside me as we approached the gate. I knew he would be the one who had trouble going along right away, but Peter would handle him if he towed out of line. That was the deal. So far, he had done a good job. A small part of me felt guilty for using Peter like this, but it was the only way to get Haskell not to mess things up. In fact, it surprised me Peter even agreed with it without missing a beat.

And I never questioned it. I wanted this done without any hassle. I puzzled whether Peter wanted to talk to me about last night, but he never gave me the impression that he ever would, let alone try to label what occurred. He kept a respectful distance, touching when no one's looking, whispering sweet nothings, but it was apparent to the other guys that we slept together. I shook my thoughts away, telling myself that I shouldn't be distracted.

"Just wait down there. Someone's gonna open the gate," a soldier up the watchtower hollered.

I gave him a thumbs up.

"Do you think the others will be fine?" Haskell asked me while we waited. Of course, he wasn't worried about that as we've talked about it already. He was only trying to make some conversation, to keep his mind off what was in store.

I shrugged and said, "They'll live."

Predictably, Colin wasn't wild about my leaving, though he knew he had no grounds to argue about it further, neither the authority to tell me no. He had tried to play the adult card, but I had the gun and the skills. After all, the others were staying back as well, armed to the teeth, and would be protecting them all night before I get back (if he believed I would). He already let it slip that even though he had survived with the others from Scranton, none of them were seasoned fighters. They had been busy running and hiding from the vectors, had only encountered a small horde twice (and that was when he mentioned there used to be a hundred of them).

What's more, the two rifles only had three bullets left between them. He had no choice but to go along with my group for protection and our skills.

"What if they try to take over and steal our guns?" Haskell asked.

"Do you think Jun, Miguel, or even Logan would let that happen? I mean, sure, I'm not blind. I know we're outnumbered, but before they'd get to our guns, some of them will die. And based on what I gathered and who I had spoken to, I doubt anyone wanted to bite the bullet first. They'll behave. They're not that desperate yet."

The gate finally slid open, and Alex stepped out to greet us with two other soldiers. I looked at their name tags: Berry with the glasses and Donahue with the nasty-looking scar on his lip. Garcia was not around.

"Welcome to Casa del Garrett!" Alex said.

The outpost extended for about four more blocks. Military tents and pavilions had been set up on the small park in front of the suburb's entrance; the parking lot was where they stationed all the military vehicles—a couple of supply trucks, three humvees, and two 4x4 quad bikes and ATVs. The neighborhood's entrance was the bridge, blocked by another gate and watchtowers leading out to the rest of Harrisburg.

Our next goal, I reminded myself. I held back on asking Alex how many men he had in the outpost, or how well-supplied they were, or when was the following scouts coming in, or how stable was their contact with HQ, and possibly if more men were coming to relieve them of their duties...Not now. Keep it cool. Let the guy spill it out on his own.

"Those civilians are gonna be okay. Don't worry," Alex said. "This neighborhood is too close to the hills, isolated from the urban areas. I mean, these rich folks wanted seclusion and rural solitude—to keep the bums and homeless out—and still have the amenities of the modern world, so I think they got what they paid for, er, what good that did them. It had been three weeks since the last reported sighting of an infected. We barely get any action nowadays!"

"Careful what you wish for," Peter said.

"Oh, hey, I am not actively seeking out those monsters. No, thank you! Albany was enough for me, thank you very much. I like it here. It's quiet."

And too inexperienced once the fighting gets bloodier, I thought, gritting my teeth. No wonder they couldn't relate to the survivors knocking on the gates, who had seen countless horrors while these soldiers sat on the wall, safe and secure, venturing out to snipe a vector from a distance. Sure, they had seen the monsters and what those vectors could do to a living human, but I doubted Alex or the majority of these soldiers stood inches away from one every single day. That was my life for three months. The way Alex would describe the vectors, they were some kind of mythical beasts out of legends—a boogeyman better told as a campfire story than a grave warning. Those experienced soldiers either made a run for it or were dead.

I noticed that Berry and Donahue seemed to defer the conversation to Alex first, realizing he must have some special status amongst the men. Ah. Of course. Alex Garrett. Survivor of the Fall of Albany. A seasoned veteran in their eyes. Except for Garrett, it was apparent none of these men had fought the vectors yet, merely glorified guards for Harrisburg, and they were as green as the forest over Appalachia.

"What about your ride, Hoss? Not bringing it along with you?" Alex asked Haskell about the RV.

"I think it'd be useful with them than in here," Haskell said, eyes briefly darting to me.

"I don't know. It looks useful once the fighting starts. You know what I mean? That RV of yours looks sturdy. I bet you can run through a horde with those snowplows like nothing. Have you ever tried that?"

"Um, I didn't get the chance yet."

"Man, I bet you're dying to do that! If you bring it along with us, we can put it to good use! I know some neighborhoods with a ton of infected roaming around. I bet we can clean this city real quick! Those civvies will do just fine hiding inside the mansions."

Berry interjected, "We can go door to door, draw them out of the streets, and just go to town when they're all clumped together."

That's just asking to get killed. I bit back my tongue. I battled the urge to recoil, settled on glaring down at Alex and Berry, though he didn't even notice it. Most of our supplies, gas, and weapons were inside Cora, and I would not just hand that off. It was our lifeline to Pittsburgh.

Peter said, "You got Humvees with built-in machine guns, bulletproof turrets, body armor, grenades, and a freaking tank, Garrett. Let the little guys have some protection. One civilian saved is one less monster to join their perverse army."

Alex laughed. "I guess you're right about that. I'm sorry that they couldn't cross over. We've all been under a lot of pressure trying to secure the routes around the city and pushing back the Alphas from gaining control. They now command forty percent east of Harrisburg, and they're moving awfully close toward the river. We're prepping the city for an easy transition once the Delaware campaign comes in full swing, you know? Can't have the Alphas fucking that up. Every Alpha is a high-valued target now. Shoot to kill, so we're on high alert."

"Every terrorist is shoot-to-kill," Berry corrected.

"Not with those glasses, you're not!" Donahue guffawed. "Hey. Did you built that on your own?" He asked Haskell.

"Took me a few weeks," Haskell said, smiling sheepishly.

Alex giggled. "Can't say I didn't miss you, Hoss. Captain Drucker would be pretty impressed with your talents once he gets back from downtown. You'll be up and working in no time. But I think Garcia will have you clean the outhouse for now."

"That's for all three of you, newbies," Berry said. "Clean-up duty is reserved for new arrivals."

Peter tapped Alex's shoulder. "Aren't you going to give us a little tour?"

"Oh! I almost forgot. Sorry, Pete. Let's start with the park."

They got the area locked down tight. They had taken advantage of the stone fences put around each house, using it as a deterrent for trespassers and blocked other roads with chain-linked fences, which together formed a semi-circular perimeter around the park bookended by the bridge's entrance. There was only one way in or out across the creek, and the soldiers ensured that. I spotted a few sections where we could sneak in and jump into the creek without them noticing, but it had to be done in the dark. However, I am not going to leave Cora and all the supplies we had worked for. There was still a long road ahead to Pittsburgh.

We crossed the grassy lawn crisscrossed by sidewalks, passing by the dozen or so pavilions used for sleeping and storage, soldiers chatting and laughing amongst each other, some paying us their casual attention, though others seemed not to care. I counted at least twenty soldiers from our short stroll, but there could be more. This was more complicated than I anticipated, but I couldn't back down now. Alex pointed out things he deemed necessary: where the radio room was (a house with an old Christmas wreath that was out of season), the armory and the ammunitions depot (next door to the radio house), the outhouses and storage supplies (far end of the park), the infirmary and the briefing tent (at the middle of the park). I made sure to note where each of these was.

"Captain Drucker insisted we all sleep in the same tent instead of the houses. He thought it's counterintuitive if we all break apart in our sleeping arrangements and spread ourselves thin," Alex said.

"Frankly, I kinda wish we slept in these loaded houses. I'll take the memory foam than a cot any time," Berry said.

"That is the mess hall," Alex pointed to a building closer to the parking lot.

I surmised that it was supposed to be a one-story community center for the suburbs, saw pamphlets for the golf course set up somewhere east of the neighborhood, the hot yoga club meetings, soccer and baseball field, and the two hiking trails nearby. Beside the building was the community pool, but it had been drained of water, covered by a green mesh. They had made the ballroom into a cafeteria with eight bench tables neatly arranged side-by-side. By the tiny kitchen, a cook was busy preparing for lunch.

Alex groaned. "We might have mystery meat again for dinner. Supplies had been scarce lately from HQ across the river."

"We're cut off from Millenium?" Peter asked.

Alex rubbed the back of his neck. "Ahh, not quite, but kind of? It's complicated. Everyone in HQ is busy fighting to control I-81 and I-83. It just sucks we're out here on the frontier, you know? We've been assigned here for three weeks, and I only had five showers total."

"And when's the next team coming?"

"Tomorrow morning, I think? Yeah. CRA scouts are coming in to secure the hills. They're gonna clear us a path for Scranton and Upstate New York, then meet up with the Canadian forces who are currently taking Buffalo and Rochester before pushing east. That's the plan, anyway. I don't know how full-proof it is if there are complications, but that's above my pay grade." Alex laughed with Berry and Donahue.

For a minute or so, Peter and Alex mentioned a transfer to Peter and Haskell's original regiment, see if they could reunite with the other West Point cadets who had survived Albany. Apparently, there were more of them who got assigned to Harrisburg and along the southern Susquehanna River.

"Let me show you guys where you're going to sleep." Alex began herding us again toward the center of the park, gesturing toward a pavilion with the entrance flapping against the dry, sweltering wind. I could see a few soldiers inside; most of them had their shirts off, goofing around in their downtime.

Twenty-five...twenty-six...twenty-seven...twenty-eight soldiers. There could still be more.

I sidled between Peter and Haskell as we followed behind the other soldiers, whispered, "Recognized anyone?"

"Some from West Point, others I don't recognize at all," Peter said. "But not acquainted. Alex is the only one we know by name."

I nodded but said nothing further. Good. This makes it easier, then.

They led us to three unclaimed beds at the far end of the tent, a few people came up to me and introduced themselves, but honestly, I wasn't paying attention, shaking hands when offered, smiling when needed to. All I did was count, tried to make sure I didn't go over the ones I already did, muttering the total number like a mantra.

Thirty-one...

Thirty-two...

Garcia and the other soldiers that followed her still didn't trust us, and I realized they were waiting for Captain Drucker to arrive to see what they're going to do to me. But that's for tomorrow, and I won't even be here. They kept a close eye, which might be a problem. I made a note to deal with that later.

"There's a few fart sacks upon the supply tent, so you guys can grab one later," said Alex.

"Fart sack?" I asked.

Peter nudged my elbow. "It means sleeping bags."

"Oh."

I put my backpack on the cot, and so did Peter and Haskell, who both played along with the gathered crowd, talking about where they were from, how they escaped Albany, and how many monsters they had killed in the Red Zone. Apparently, they hadn't met anyone who lasted behind enemy lines with multiple encounters from different hordes for the past three months.

The other soldiers started avoiding me after a while, and I mentally smacked my head that my close-guard attitude and silence weren't helping. I guessed I was preparing myself for the inevitable. I didn't want to remember their faces nor their stupid names or where they fucking grew up in some small town in the middle of nowhere. It wouldn't matter in the end. It wouldn't matter to me.

"Garcia wants to talk to the three of you in five," Berry said.

"Alright. Thanks," Peter said. He gave me a quizzical look, eyebrows drawn together, pursed his lips, a shrug.

We followed Alex out of the tent, and I flinched away from the other soldiers patting my back as if we won a game. It was their way of welcoming me, I guessed.

"What's that over there?" Haskell asked, pointing a finger off to the distance.

Berry smiled mischievously. "Oh, whenever you're in the mood."

Haskell looked at him curiously. "Mood for what?"

Berry and Donahue both shared a tickled look and guffawed, the latter gesturing as if he was thrusting into someone doggy-style, mimicking a woman's high-pitched moans.

Alex tapped Haskell on the shoulder and shook his head. "It's not worth it to go in there. Only idiots do." He glared at the other two, who continued clowning off.

I followed where Haskell had pointed at, a few paces off from the community center, three pavilions down from where we stood. Two soldiers came out almost naked, pulling up their pants and underwear, their shirts drenched in sweat and draped over their shoulders, a glimpse of their cock, wet and still semi-hard, before they tucked it in, both men laughing together. They passed by us; one guy adjusted his underwear and buckled his belt, giving Alex and the other soldiers a curt nod as they passed. A blonde woman, no more than in her late twenties, suddenly ducked out of the pavilion's entryway, face red and sweaty, adjusting the scruples over her skirt. She crossed her arms over her stomach, shooting me a grimaced glance before she scurried away behind the clustered tents toward a cul-de-sac.

The woman left the entryway partly open, and I could see two other women in there, surrounded by a few men. One soldier had his pants down to his knees, thrusting and grunting as the others egged him on. I looked away.

"I thought there weren't any civilians here," I said.

Berry shrugged. "We never said that. They were already inside the city." He paused, giving me a dirty look. It must have crossed on my face my total disgust for the entire thing. "Hey, don't look at us like that. Every guy has needs, you know? This is war. I can tell you that morale around here has never been better."

I looked around, caught a split-second glimpse of Alex, unsure about the whole thing, but he quickly masked his expression. Peter and Haskell remained quiet.

"Does Captain Drucker allows this kind of thing? Prostitution? Does Garcia stand for this?" I asked.

Donahue laughed. "And what? Have a go at it with Garcia? She'll probably take our balls off before we could even touch her. She practically gave these women the option to be here."

"It's not like we forced them. They actually volunteered, so it's not rape." Berry said and gave Donahue a high five. "Really, lieutenant, you might want to get laid and get off your high horse. Trust me. You'll feel better tomorrow. Come on, guys. Garcia's waiting for you."

Alex raised an eyebrow at me before he led us toward a house with a foreclosure sign on the front yard, which I reckoned was where Garcia stayed with her close circle. I realized Garcia was the only woman in the entire platoon.

I couldn't get those women out of my head. I found out later through other survivors that many young women had offered themselves to commanding officers within the safe zone in exchange for their family's protection and special privileges (Better ration tickets, living accommodations, or unrestricted access to medicine for their sick loved ones, etc.). Now, it had become a well-oiled racket amongst the soldiers and government officials. I shuddered to imagine what happened to the women who got pregnant, especially when proper health care was scarce, and carrying a child into full term was dangerous, unlike the old world.

"Bren?" Someone called my name faintly.

Peter and Haskell halted before me, and I knew it didn't come from them; It was a woman's voice.

"Bren, is that you?" She called out again.

I turned around to the source, recognizing it instantly, had known it for many years.

A woman stood on the sidewalk twelve paces away, carrying a large bucket of water, sandwiched between her chest and arms, her long black hair pushed up and coiled into a messy bun. She let out a small smile. There was no mistaking it.

My mouth dropped.

"Aria?"