The number of vectors had increased since we left the apartment. I saw soldiers engaging them from back alleys and out on the open streets, civilians running for their lives as vectors chased after them, strewing dead bodies on their wake. I was rattled knowing that some of these people might turn within two minutes or in a day, joining the horde.

Peter turned on the radio, and we received a barrage of calls for evacuations for this place and reinforcements for this sector—calls that ninety percent of the time were left unheeded.

"This is from one vector?" Haskell asked in disbelief.

"We're all clumped together like sardines. It's going to spread like wildfire," I said.

Peter shut off the radio. "Okay. The city's fucked."

I didn't realize that the hotel was only a couple of blocks away from Times Union Center. I could already hear artillery discharges and gunfire resounding just beyond the buildings. Most of the refugees were cowering inside, and I didn't have to imagine what would happen once the vectors managed to.

Peter veered into the street where Hilton Hotel was. I immediately saw the sixteen-story building, its entrance littered with debris and dead bodies as the soldiers still left inside the lobby battled the vectors. Some of the hotel's windows higher up had been broken, some had little fires blazing in them.

More vectors were still coming.

We couldn't move further as there were dozens of vehicles left abandoned on the street ahead.

"It looked overrun!" I said.

Peter pointed up. "Look."

I craned my neck and looked up. A helicopter had just left the rooftop on the roof, and I could see people peeking out of the open cabin. I thought we were too late and that our helicopter had left us, but another one came from behind a building and slowly touched down. I saw more helicopters flying overhead, waiting their turn to rescue some survivors. I hoped there was still some space for us left.

Luke grumbled loudly. "What now?"

"We can't go through the lobby. Maybe there's an emergency stairwell somewhere?" I said.

"But we're gonna have to make a run for it! Are you crazy?" Haskell exclaimed.

"We have to find it first, then get closer."

Peter started the vehicle again. "Sounds good to me."

We must have been looking for five minutes, driving around the block, frequently getting attacked by a vector or two, but Haskell quickly put them down with a machine gun. In the end, it was Henry who pointed out the emergency escape stairwell, tucked and hidden from view, running at the side of the building. It looked cramped and narrow, and a hell lot of climbing for my poor legs and knees, but I had to work with what we got.

Peter stepped on the gas and headed over there until the humvee couldn't move any further. We were about a hundred yards from the alley.

"Alright. This is it, people! We're gonna have to do this smooth and fast! Shoot anything that looks crazy and wants to eat you!" Logan shouted from the backseat.

From the turret, Haskell had already shot two vectors from afar. "They're fucking coming out from everywhere, man!" He fired more shots from our rear, which was then followed by the vector's dying shrieks. "I'll go stay and give everyone some cover!"

Peter looked up. "Hoss, are you sure?"

"Just go, man!" Haskell yelled. "Get everyone on that stairwell!"

Peter gritted his teeth and jumped out of the vehicle. A woman with blood over her clothes came running toward him, shrieking like a banshee, but Peter quickly put her down with a shot from his rifle.

I scrambled out of the vehicle. I caught movement from my periphery, turned around to find a man clutching his throat. Someone had taken a good chunk out of him. I deduced he was not infected, but he slumped to the ground right in front of me, clutching my ankles, mumbling something I could not hear.

Luke clasped his hand on my shoulder. "You alright?" He looked down on the dead man. "Did he get you?"

"No. He's dead." I turned to the vehicle and helped Aria and Henry out of the back hatch. I saw the others already climbing out of the Jeep, hauling their bags out.

I took Henry's hand. "Hold on tight!"

Henry merely nodded, clutching a small pocket knife with him. I had no idea where he got that, or who might have given it, but I had no time to talk to him.

We started running.

The sounds of vectors bouncing off of cars, shrieking after us, almost made me want to stand my ground and started shooting. But if I stopped, they would eventually catch up to me, and I had no idea how many of them there were.

A vector leaped out from behind a van and charged after me. I raised my gun, shooting him on the head, but his body keeled over right in front of me. I had not time to stop my momentum nor hop over him. I ended up tripping over his body and body-slammed right on the pavement.

A second later, Logan and Henry were by my side, helping me up to my feet.

"Graceful," Logan said.

"It's my freaking leg," I spat.

"Keep going. I'll cover your back."

Peter and Miguel were already firing shots to our flank. No doubt, vectors had heard about the gunshots and were converging on our location. It only made me try my hardest to run faster. There were dozens of blind spots, not knowing what waited for us from behind a truck, a burning vehicle, and any abandoned cars.

I glanced back. Haskell was the last one by the vehicles, jumping off the turret just as a vector clamored to reach him. Luckily, he made it out an inch away from the vector's grip. He landed onto the pavement just as three vectors came rushing toward him.

"Hoss! Run!" Peter took a knee and started firing, killing one of the vectors chasing after Haskell.

I kept running.

We managed to reach the alley leading to the emergency stairwell. The passage was blocked by a brick wall on the farthest end, but I was glad the stairwell's chain-linked gate was on our side of the path. I reached it and grabbed the gate handle, only to find it locked.

"Shit!" I exclaimed.

"Bah! Out of the way!" Logan pushed me aside and shot the handle, riddling it with bullets until it was merely reduced into chunks and metal shards. The gate swung open. "Get in!"

I huffed. "Great. How are we gonna lock it behind us, genius?"

"They're too dumb to climb."

I looked back and saw Gabe, Steve, Felipe blocking the alley using the large garbage dumpsters. Peter and Haskell were the last two to slip through just as a dozen vectors slammed against the containers, could already tell the bloodlust rising to a frenzy. They knew there was prey, and they would not stop.

"Fuck it. It's open now," I muttered.

Peter shot at some of the vectors trying to climb over it. There were only so few men holding against the dumpster, but the vectors far outnumbered ours, and the dumpster inched closer toward us—the infected pushing back with their own weight.

It would save us time, but only for a few seconds.

The stairwell was a narrow spiral staircase that would take two people abreast to climb the steps. There were also wrought-iron barriers and railings to keep everyone from falling over, making the stairwell as cramped, as dizzying, and as claustrophobic than I could ever not wished for, even with the ample empty space right beyond its railings.

"No, you go in first," I said, and then pointed up. "I don't want to slow everyone down while I'm trying to climb up that thing."

Logan's shoulders slumped. "I better see you up there."

"Don't worry," I said, managing a weak smile. "You won't get rid of me that easy."

Logan took point into the stairwell. Tessa gave me a gentle squeeze on my arm and a slight frown before taking Henry up the stairs, followed by Yousef and Aria.

I headed toward the dumpster, pulling out my gun, and kept on firing. I remembered thinking that if this was where I'd die, at least I gave everyone time to reach the roof.

I killed three more vectors before Steve had bad knees, and he could not run or climb very far if things got worse. I walked up to Steve and Gabe, tapping them on their shoulders, telling them to move and make a run for the stairs. I shot two more vectors climbing over the dumpster. I then moved closer to Felipe, doing the same thing. He grabbed Margot's hands next to him, and they both scrambled toward the gate.

"There's too many of them!" Luke exclaimed.

"I can't hold on much longer!" Miguel screamed, pressing his shoulders against the dumpster, but he only pushed it back an inch.

Alfie dropped to one knee and took out two bottles of Molotovs from his bag. "Wait! I have an idea!" He then took the strips of cloth and put them through the hole, lighting them up with an I LOVE NY lighter, and handed one to me.

Alfie cheekily smiled at me, and I returned the favor.

"Everyone get back!" I cried out.

I threw the bottle, smashing just behind the dumpster where I surmised the vectors were clustered most, and a massive blaze engulfed them. I could feel the heat emanating even from where I was standing, their haunting shrieks drilled into my subconscious as they burned. Alfie shouted his own warning, "Fire abound!" He then threw the Molotov a little to the right of the dumpster, adding more fuel.

Luke grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the stairwell with the vectors dancing in flames behind us.

As we got higher up the stairs, I could see from behind the dumpster, a massive horde that almost looked like they belonged at some rock concert, packed into the alley like rabid animals. As the flames spread closer, they immediately shrunk back, running out into the street. Some hopped on the roof of vehicles; others hid behind the corners or from several other cars. They looked up, staring at us, snarling as if cursing us for evading them.

A few managed to reach the stairwell gate, but Peter and Haskell shot them until a pile of bodies blocked the door, rendering the vectors unable to pass through.

"That should take care of them," Luke said.

"I hope," I said.

I looked up to the roof. We still had ten more floors to go.

When we reached the roof, I did not expect what I saw. The hotel was one of the city's tallest buildings, and I could see everything from up here. In horror, I froze when I saw the Times Union Center, the main refugee camp, was in flames just a couple of blocks away. Just across from the hotel was another helipad taking survivors with more people than ours. They almost filled up the entire roof. I was afraid some of them might fall off the ledge.

The hotel's roof was massive than I had imagined, complete with a small restaurant propped at the far side, right next to a fifty-foot wide infinity pool, overlooking the streets and the city below. Though a protective sheet had been placed over it, and I could tell there was still water underneath. Lounge chairs were lined along the pool's edge, flanked by fake palm trees and tropical plants, and a couple of hot tubs. Another stairwell led to the roof of the restaurant where the helipad was.

A hundred people were waiting at the bottom of the steps already. Though a select few were grouped together right in front of the helipad's gate, the rest were held back by soldiers' line. I reckoned that most of them were VIPs. A dozen soldiers guarded the entryway to the helipad, and they were heavily armed. Folks from the crowd tried to push in, but a soldier always held them back.

I caught sight of the main door leading into the hotel, but it was blocked by a pile of collapsable tables, lounge chairs, and other furniture that we hastily put together, more than what we put against the emergency door stairwell. We couldn't be too careful as some of the vectors could slip past the pile of bodies below and reached the rooftop, and it seemed the soldiers here thought of the same thing. One bite from the people here, and it was a costly toss between turning in two minutes or in a day. We couldn't take that chance.

Up ahead, I saw everyone gathered by the large group. A soldier—who looked like an officer—marched toward Peter. As we got closer, their voices grew louder.

Something was definitely wrong.

"How the fuck did you get up here?" I heard the officer say.

I stood behind Logan, but I could tell Logan did not like what he observed from his face alone. "What's going on?" I whispered to him.

Logan nodded to the small group up ahead without saying a word.

"Took the stairs," Peter answered the officer.

The officer shook his head. "We blew up the stairs."

"No. Not that. The one over there." Peter pointed casually to the MAINTENANCE ONLY sign, and its door, now barred-shut. "Don't worry, captain. We took care of the stairs, too. None of the anomalies can get up that way."

The captain mumbled a curse and walked over to a soldier nearby, smacking him on the back of the head, and then pointed at the emergency stairwell as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. The soldier flushed red, looking around as if he got caught with his pants on the ground. He pulled a couple of soldiers beside him, and the three of them dashed toward the emergency stairwell, finding it already barricaded, and so they had to lean over the edge to get a good view of the alley below.

The captain regarded us once again. "IDs?" Peter pulled out the tag and handed it over to him. He looked around our big group, and then warily stared at the ID. "This is from General Clemons?" The captain asked.

"Yes, captain," Peter answered.

"Who's the main VIP?"

Peter pointed to me and then to the entire group. "All of them."

"There are only three names. You two"—he gestured to Peter and Haskell—"and someone named Brendan Watts. Who's that?"

"It's an old order, sir. We received new ones. I have thirteen VIPs with me."

The captain shook his head and frowned. "Three names. Three people get into the next chopper."

"But I have orders—"

"And I have mine. Look, there are not many seats to cram all of these people, and there are hundreds of us. The good news is, you people are the last ones up, and that two helicopters are flying in. You can take your chances in the next one."

"I'm giving up my seat. One of them can go," Peter said suddenly. He turned to look at Haskell.

Haskell hesitated for a second and sighed, shaking his head. "I guess I'll stay behind, too."

"Stay here or don't, I don't care. You all figure out among you who goes. The chopper is just coming in." The captain pointed up the sky to a chopper fast approaching. He then walked away toward his men by the helipad.

I turned to the others, and we went quiet as we stared at each other, struggling to find the right words. I felt suddenly heavy, a tightness at the back of my skull, gnawing every second.

For a moment, I thought of taking that tag and making it to that chopper, no matter what it cost me, wanting so much to see my father and my mother again, to be able to embrace them. I gazed over the city, the billows of smoke, the smell of death, and the crumbling ruins on the brink of death. My legs tingled to run, my vision slightly blurring, just imagining what it would be like to be stuck in this hellhole for another minute.

"Three of us have to leave this city," I said, cutting off the silence.

"Now, hold on. Just because your name is on it—" Gabe started.

"Henry will take my place," I said, looking Gabe in the eye, daring him to finish his sentence. He backed away. I then turned to Henry, staring up at me with wide eyes, unsure if he understood what was going on. He kept looking around, searching for answers to explain to him what was happening, but no one decided to speak up. I reckoned that was a good thing. A child should be far away from this place, and the group agreed in silence that Henry should be one of the three.

It felt like an hour had passed when we talked it over, deciding who among the two would take Peter and Haskell's seat in the chopper. Though, only three minutes flew by. The helicopter hovered around the building, and I could hear the captain getting the smaller group ready by the entryway.

"That's enough!" Peter bellowed. "That chopper is gonna land any minute, and we're losing our chance. Who's it gonna be?"