With me staying behind and taking my luck on the next helicopter, Luke and Logan both decided right away to stay with me. I gave each of them a deathly glare, but I knew there was no chance I'd win if I argued with them. Plus, we're running out of time.

Some of us entertained to let those who were old and injured go, especially Luke, and I knew he meant to convince me. But it would only single out Steve and me, and I had no intention of going, knowing that I'm leaving some of them behind. A hundred other people were vying for the next chopper, and it was not a guarantee that they could make it. It would be hypocritical of me to take the only seat offered because it had my name on it. I wanted to see all my group safe and sound; I would not abandon them.

Steve thrust his chest out and would not hear his grandchildren's protestations to take the seat. "I have betrayed this group for my own gain before. I will not let that happen again," he said with as much calm and certainty to his voice, and both Tessa and Gabe heaved a sigh, unable to convince him otherwise. "We could let the women go," he added.

It went back and forth for a short while. In the end, mostly everyone liked Steve's idea that women should go first. There were only three of them in our group. Peter went up to the captain again, arguing with him, but I was too far away to hear what was said. Eventually, Peter came back, telling us he managed to convince him that since Henry was small and lanky, he could squeeze in a fourth member of our group. Henry had to sit on someone's lap, thereby allowing all the women in our group to board the chopper.

But I saw through him. I took Peter aside as the chopper now hovered above the helipad, getting ready to touch down. "What did you offer him?"

"Uh...barbecue at my backyard?"

"Don't start with me."

Peter closed his eyes and sighed. "Fine. I may have offered him a way out."

I nodded. "Our Humvee and the Jeep down on the street. That's a long run."

"They'll die for sure. Makes it easier for us."

"How is any of that good?"

"The captain and his men said they are not getting on that helicopter. They want to evacuate as much of the civilians out as they can...or so they say. If the next chopper doesn't go well, we might have to make a run for the vehicle again. But I have a sneaking suspicion they're gonna make a run for the second helicopter instead."

"Are you sure?"

"They did not let us in, even when I specifically told them we were VIPs and that it came from General Clemons himself. No, they're saving the seat for the second helicopter for themselves. It's a hunch, so you better be ready with your gun."

"I'm not gonna shoot a person, Peter."

"Think of them as vectors, then, if it makes it easier for you. It makes no difference."

"Of course, there's a fucking difference! Killing is not that easy."

"Well, you certainly look like a pro at it."

"You know what, fuck you."

"Hey! I'm trying to help your stupid, useless group."

"For one more person?"

"It's a guaranteed seat. One less person for us to watch and protect down on the street."

"Is that everyone is to you? Like some cannon fodder?" I raised my eyebrow. "And if it doesn't go well for us?"

Peter glanced at the captain. "I'm already handling that."

"You're gonna try to backstab him, aren't you? Not a very soldier-like of you."

"Hey, it's the apocalypse. Anything goes. Plus, the captain's a total asshole. You should know about what he did to a recruit last year. I'm gonna teach him some manners. If we can't get into the chopper, we'll make a run for the cars, and the captain and his men will become our little cannon fodder."

I glared at him, horrified. "You're gonna use them as bait?"

"They're capable fighters. They'll mow down the vectors for us while we snuck behind. Easy-peasy. And if some of them survived, well, good for them! And we can forget this ever happened once we're in one of those planes."

I studied him for a moment, trying to make sure if he was serious. "You gave up your seat. You could have left this city like you and Haskell were always going on and on about. Why?"

"I didn't give it up. It's merely...delayed. The survivors are gonna be relocated to the airport and then flown somewhere else in the country. We can handle three miles of driving to the airport."

"Don't tell me you did it for me."

Peter scoffed. "Don't oversell yourself, Bren. You're not all that. Besides, you know what my parents are like. Either between seeing my folks again and anywhere else, well, it's easy which one I'd choose. I have my reasons."

"Care to elaborate?"

"I can fight. As far as I know, Haskell and I have a better chance of getting out of this alive. You, too. Even though you're a cripple, you're still a capable fighter. That's why you gave up your seat. Maybe Logan too, but he's a walking alarm with that mouth of his. He'll die for sure." He prattled on, and then added, "I wish."

"I didn't think any of that—"

"And besides, I'm the best motherfucker there is." Peter laughed and winked at me. "And you know it."

I rolled my eyes and walked away from him, standing beside Logan and Luke instead.

Logan shot daggers at Peter. "What did you guys talked about?"

"Some weird shit."

"Did he say something bad about me?'" Logan asked, and I winced. "He did, didn't he? I always hate that guy. He's gonna have to watch his back."

"Logan. Now's not the time," I hissed.

Logan shook his head. "You better tell him to watch out."

I ignored Logan's grumblings for now as I watched the helicopter slowly descend toward the helipad. My heart hammered against my chest as the helicopter's engines roared. Stiff gusts of wind swept parasols and plastic lounge chairs off their station, whipping plants and trees as they clung to the ground. I had to cover my face from the cold winds, could feel my nose already started tingling. I saw Margot and Felipe said their goodbyes, kissing each other as they embraced each other.

"I am going to find you wherever you are," Felipe said to Margot.

"Promise me that?"

"I promise. I love you."

"Je t' aime aussi."

Just behind them, Tessa was balling in tears right in front of her brother and grandfather, both of them pulling her into their embrace, and I saw Steve tearing up as well. Yousef and Aria talked in hushed whispers, both their eyes already puffy and red.

Suddenly, I felt Luke standing beside me, his hands clasped my own, turning me around until I faced him. "You okay?"

"Yeah, it's just...I thought we're all going to go together. And..." I trailed off.

"Hey, you've done what you can. You got us this far, Bren. You should be proud of that."

"It's not enough."

"Look at me." I stared up at him, and he gave me a gentle kiss on my lips. "No matter what happens, we keep moving forward, okay? You managed to bring others to safety. I have no doubt you'd do the same to those left behind."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"It seems like a good day as any."

"Well, in that case, you better keep up then."

"Are you saying I'm slow?"

I pressed my lips against his. "No. I'm just saying it must be tiring, looking at my back all the time."

Luke kissed me back again. "Cheeky bastard."

"They're going to be okay, right?" I asked, turning to look at the others who had already gathered around the small group by the entrance. Aria looked back, mouthing something to Yousef, who merely smiled and blew her a kiss.

Luke rubbed the small of my back. "They're going to be okay. We'll follow suit."

I looked up to the helicopter just as it touched down. I recognized it was a CH-47, a twin-engined, heavy-lift chopper that could carry thirty troops—thirty people—all at once. "It's us versus a hundred other people, vying for thirty spots. Those are not some good odds."

"Then we have to fight for it."

I could feel the large group pressing against our backs, pushing us toward the soldiers as some tried to wiggle their way to the smaller group. Some of the soldiers screamed a warning, heard a gunshot go off somewhere, stilling the crowd enough for the captain to lead the small group up the stairs.

I had to walk back to get a good view of the helipad from below. The landing bay doors slowly opened down, and the captain began ushering the survivors into the cabin. When I saw Henry clutching tight to Margot, eyes red and puffy with tears, I weight on my shoulder lifted. I kept saying, "They're okay, they're okay, they're okay." I didn't realize I was holding onto Luke's hand.

The chopper filled up quickly. The captain had to turn some of the VIPs back to the stairs to get away from the rotors. There were only four VIPs left, which meant that only twenty-six seats were left for the rest of us in the second helicopter. I quickly realized that out of the four VIPs, Aria was among them. Only Henry, Tessa, and Margot got in. We watched the helicopter took off the helipad and flew farther and farther from the hotel, heading north toward the airport.

"She didn't get in," Logan said, worried, looking at Aria from the roof. She looked down on us, shaking her head, not knowing what to do. She made a beeline for the stairs, wanting to get down, but Yousef gestured at her to stay put.

"Don't worry. She'll be on the next one," Yousef said, "maybe even catch a ride with us."

Logan studied the people around us. "We're probably gonna earn some broken ribs and bruises. Some of them would kill for a seat."

I could cut the tension in the roof with my own breath as we saw the second helicopter approached and hovered above us. I could feel it too in the soldiers as they eyed us carefully, readying their rifles, fingers gently over the trigger if the need arose. It grew palpable as the second helicopter touched down on the helipad. I did not like any of this at all, and with my bad leg, I doubted I could punch my way up those flight of stairs. I placed my hand on my hip until my fingertips touched the grip of my gun.

Was I willing to point a gun on a person? Not some bloodthirsty monster but a living, breathing, and fully conscious person? Peter didn't seem bothered by it, or maybe he was only pretending.

I turned to look at the roof of the building across from us. Compared to ours, they had hundreds of people up on that roof, crowding around the helicopter who just landed there, and I did not envy them at all. I wanted to be selfish, thinking what if that helicopter just landed on our helipad instead and taken everyone out of here? We had no need to compete for seats knowing we had enough for everybody.

As soon as the second helicopter touched down, and the VIPs—including Aria—were taken inside—everything went to shit. The captain walked down the stairs to determine who would go up to the helicopter and made a show of it. But when the soldiers suddenly made a beeline for the aircraft—including the captain—a mad rush ensued.

Peter was right.

Men and women were pushing everywhere, throwing the captain off-balance, and fell under the charging crowd. I could hear his desperate cries as the panicking mob stepped over him violently, which abruptly cut him short mid-scream, knowing full well what had befallen him.

I did not have time to think, to look around, or even get some air as bodies crowded around me, trying to push through the line of soldiers who were holding them back. Some screams, begging, some even went as far as spitting on the soldiers, calling them names like murderers and baby killers. Two men went down right beside me, crying for help, and as I turned to look, they were swallowed by the crowd, no doubt some of them did not even realize they were stepping on people. This was fast becoming a deadly stampede.

Someone kicked my cane accidentally, and I almost fell over, going under dozens of people's boots and shoes when a hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the mass of bodies. I came face-to-face with Logan.

"This is nuts!" Logan sputtered.

"Where's Luke?" I exclaimed.

"I don't know. I lost track of everyone."

I saw Felipe and Alfie struggling closest to us, so I tried to get to them, and Logan and I tried to pull them out of the mob. The situation worsened, and we heard gunfire from across the crowd. Screams resounded, and I saw drops and splatters of blood on the floor. A few people had already reached the stairs, running up toward the helicopter. More gunfire echoed, saw the flash of muzzle near me.

"I said, stay back! Stay back!" One soldier bellowed. Two more followed suit.

"Get down!" Logan screamed. He pushed me down to my knees, and someone bumped onto my injured leg, and I winced in pain, clutching myself so that I would not fall flat on the ground, and be in the position for dozens of people to step over me like I was a stepping stone.

As I reached the ground, another burst of gunfire emanated across the roof, more people screamed, and I saw bodies dropping right in front of me.

The soldiers were firing into the crowd.

My mind snapped back, and I pulled Logan and the others out of there as fast as possible. The restaurant was the nearby, and so I charged toward the door, never mind how my leg cried out in pain with every step I made. I already lost my cane in the commotion, and I had no time to assess my injuries. People were already cowering underneath booths and tables, some crawling injured on the ground. I limped behind a bar and saw Logan, Alfie, and Felipe were still with me. I felt around my body, trying to find if I got shot as well, but I did not feel any pain aside from my bad leg.

"Is it vectors?" Alfie asked. "Are there infected among us?"

I shook my head. "No. It's crowd control."

"But we're not infected!" Alfie moaned.

Logan mumbled a curse. "Well, they don't seem to care anymore. We lost our chance for the stairs. Maybe the others made it up?"

God, I hope so, I thought. Another burst of gunfire reverberated right outside the door.

Alfie's face paled. "Uh, I think we have a problem..." I followed his gaze to Felipe, sitting beside him, leaning back against the shelves.

There was blood all over his clothes.

I quickly crawled toward him. Felipe had been shot, and as I lifted his shirt up, blood spilled out of two holes at the side of his gut, right below his liver. I saw a couple of rags from the counter and grabbed them, putting as much pressure as I could with the wound.

"It's bad, right?" Felipe gasped. I pressed hard on the wound, and he flinched away from me, crying out and cursing.

"Hey, stay with me. I can fix this," I said. I turned to the others. "Call for help, Logan. Alfie, find the bag with the med supplies. Did Margot have them? I can't remember. Find Peter and Haskell. Maybe they can help." I slightly turned Felipe to the side, trying to find the exit wound. I heard if the bullet went through, Felipe could make it. But for a gunshot wound on the gut, statistically, not many people could survive it. But I wouldn't let Felipe die on my watch. I whirled around and found Alfie and Logan still sitting there. "Guys? The fuck? Why are you just sitting there? Call for help!"

"Bren..." Logan put his hands on my shoulder, cocked his head toward Felipe.

Felipe had grown pale, lips already purplish and blue, the redness of his cheeks a few seconds ago had drained quickly. There was so much blood on the tiled floor, soaking the rags I was clutching until his blood dripped over into my hands and arms. Felipe's breath became shallow, struggling under his throat. All I could do was keeping pressure on his wound and holding his hand.

"Tell Margot that I love her, that I will always find her wherever she is..." Felipe said.

"I will, Felipe. I'll tell her myself."

Felipe smiled. "Thank you," he said, almost a whisper. He looked around, and I reckoned he recognized where we were. Felipe stared up at the rack filled with expensive liquor. Felipe snorted softly. "I met Margot at a bar like this. Orange dress. Tu as de très beaux yeux..." You have beautiful eyes.

Felipe's smile dropped, and his jaw slacked, eyes grew distant and open, empty. His pulse grew faint against my fingertips around his wrist. I let out a shaky breath, felt my hands trembling around Felipe's wrist. I let go, but it was harder than I thought.

Logan's hand around my shoulders tightened. "Bren. We have to go. The helicopter is leaving."

I suddenly felt sick, the tightness at the back of my skull worsened into a jackhammer, hammering into a defining throb. Felipe was dead, and I did not know if I should cry, scream, or do anything about it, perhaps do all of it. I felt like someone trapped in a sinking boat, desperate to hold on to what little I had left. I let Logan drag me out of the restaurant just as the winds picked up speed, caused by the helicopter's rotors as they lifted off the helipad.

Luke, Yousef, Haskell, and Peter came running toward us. "We're too late!" Haskell said. He pointed up toward the helicopter already beginning to take off.

"Did some of us made it?" I asked.

"I don't know. I can't find the others. Maybe they're already inside. I hope."

"Aria did," Yousef said.

"Maybe there's another helicopter coming?" Alfie added in.

"Wait. Who's blood is that?" Luke pointed to my blood-drenched arms and clothes.

"It's... it's not mine," I said, feeling my throat itching, breaking my words.

"Felipe's dead," Logan said. "He got shot."

Suddenly, we heard gunshots. We ducked and crouched behind a table, but I realized it did not come from our roof. Across the building, the soldiers were firing at the crowd. I watched as the vectors spilled out of the stairwell door and started attacking the survivors. Many tried to make it up to the helicopter, trying to leave the already crowded helipad. Dozens clung from the skids, and in horror, I realized the pilot was trying to shake them off, some of them plummeting to their deaths onto the street below.

A few dangling on the chopper were infected.

The helicopter spun out of control, trying to lift away from the building. It swerved to the right, spinning desperately to fly off, and I screamed before I knew what was going to happen next.

The helicopter smashed onto the one above us. A fiery ball of fire engulfed both the aircraft, splintering into dozens of shattered debris of metal and bodies, raining down onto where I stood.

"No! Aria!" Yousef screamed.

"Run!" Peter cried out.

People screamed all around me, a mass of bodies running throughout all directions, trying to hide and hunker down from the debris falling off the sky toward us. We ran, but the panicking crowd pushed me off, and the next thing I knew, I was already in the pool, trapped by the suffocating sheet of tarp cover—pool water entering my throat.

I clung for air, screaming, thrashing, calling out for help as the first chunk of metal landed on a soldier by the edge of the pool, his head exploding as he keeled over into the water. More people fell into the pool, shouting and screeching. I heard breaking glass, and my eyes widened when I determined where it was coming from. A large chunk of the rotor fell by the edge of the infinity pool, cracking the glass that separated me from the empty air beyond.

I tried to swim to the pool's edge, but it was hard kicking around when you were swallowed by a giant tarp cover. The glass shattered, and a strong current pulled me under, gulped too much water until my throat ached for air. I caught sight of a metal beam sticking out up ahead from an exposed rebar column, and as the tarp cover loosened, I grabbed hold of the beam and held tight as I could, the water around me desperate to pull me out over the building's edge.

Many people were ripped and got swept away, and I tried to grab hold of someone, anyone, but when I extended my arm out, I realized my grip on the beam loosened, threatening to pull me back into the water. The infinity pool became a giant waterfall cascading at the hotel's side, whisking everyone in it to the street below. I closed my eyes, trying not to hear the people's screams as they fell to their deaths.

Once the pool water emptied, I dropped down onto the now exposed pool floor. It wasn't a hard drop as the pool (used to be) was only five feet deep.

"Bren!" Luke shouted from the pool's edge. "Up here!"

I dashed toward the pool ladder and clambered up. Luke crouched down, extending his hand toward me. In a flash, a man tackled him to the ground. His skin still sizzled and smelled of burnt meat, face marred with burn marks with his collar bone protruding out of his shoulders. I reckoned it was a vector having fallen off the helicopter.

I hurried up the last rungs, pulling myself up onto the edge. I saw Luke tried to push him back, keeping his teeth away from him. Luke managed to pull out his knife, but he only stabbed the vector on the chest, driving the blade deeper and deeper into his skin. The man thrashed and screamed, but he was still alive, fixed on getting his teeth on Luke's throat.

Grabbing Betty, I limped over toward the vector, pulled his hair back until his eyes landed on me. I shoved the barrel of the gun right in his mouth and fired. His body sagged, and I kicked the vector off of Luke. I reached my hand out and pulled Luke back to his feet.

Luke huffed. "That was close!"

Two more vectors who survived the hellish crash above started pummeling a couple of men near the restaurant. Soldiers tried to hold them back, but I could already see one of their previous victims turning, their heads jerked back and forth as they writhed and thrashed on the floor.

I dragged Luke away from them. "Where are the others?" I asked.

"This way!" Luke lead me to the others.

There were people crowded over the stairwell entrance, dragging some of the barricades out, but I remembered the captain mentioning that they blew up the stairs. No one could make it down to the ground from there. I stopped midway from what I saw up ahead.

The emergency stairwell was gone.

The helicopter's main cabin had crashed right where the maintenance area (and where the stairwell was located) of the roof was. The roof's section there had caved into the floor below, and the area was slowly engulfed in flames, lighting the plants and trees on fire. I could already feel the ground trembling beneath my feet. The roof would eventually collapse.

I saw Steve crouched down in front of a body, and it wasn't until we got closer that I realized it was Gabe. A piece of the helicopter's hull had crashed on top of him, and all Steve held onto was his arm, now detached from Gabe's body. Alfie and Miguel tried to pull Steve away from Gabe's body, but he shook them off, trying to claw his way beneath the wreckage, frantically pulling Gabe out in vain.

I saw the others across the roof, leaning over the edge. Logan gestured for us to hurry, and so we helped Alfie and Miguel dragged Steve to that corner of the roof as the soldiers tried to fight off the crowd and the growing number of vectors on the roof. Yousef sat against the ledge, knees curled close to his chest as he rocked himself in shock. Luke crouched down in front of his best friend and hugged him, and Yousef burst into tears. He kept saying Aria's name, and I limped in a daze to Logan and Peter's side.

"What's the plan?" I managed to ask.

Peter pointed to what's below the ledge. I looked over and saw a narrow platform suspended in the air by a couple of davits, which the window cleaners used to wash the building's windows. Haskell pulled out a device from behind a davit and pulled the lever, raising the scaffold toward us, groaning against the metal. The davit was busted a little, but it still worked.

And dangerous.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Logan asked.

"Both stairs are gone, and the vectors are on the roof. What option do we have?"

I gritted my teeth. "Not again."

Dangling over the ledge was one thing, but relying on a death trap like the scaffold approaching us was another matter. It could snap at any moment. The hotel had a smooth facade, no balcony, or a ledge on the way down to cling to if the device failed. And what a long way down it was.

The platform reached the roof, and Peter wasted no time hopping into it, trembling and groaning when he put his weight on it.

Peter shrugged. "See? Not so bad."

We poured into the suspended scaffolding, shaking with every weight added. We thought about leaving some on the roof, but the situation was already getting worse when we glanced behind us. Staying behind would be a death sentence. Lucky for us, we're hidden behind some plants and foliage, and none saw what we're doing yet. If they did, it would be another mad rush, another stampede we couldn't afford to lose again. We abandoned some of our bags to balance the weight.

Haskell pulled the lever again from the side, and the scaffold slowly descended. We huddled on the platform, a tight-fit for nine men for what was supposed to be for four people only. All we could do was listen to the screams above us and from down the street, praying the platform would hold us long enough to reach the ground.

As we reached the ninth floor, the cables shuddered to a stop. I looked up, saw that the davit to the left had buckled over, straining against our weight, and its clipped socket and wheels suffered from the falling debris.

"We have to move!" I screamed.

It was a long fall below, and there was nowhere to jump but into the building itself. The windows stood all the way from the floor to the ceiling. I pulled out Betty and shot at the glass, shattering them to expose the hotel suite beyond. It was only a foot away from me, so I quickly climbed over the scaffold's railings. I heard Luke and Logan called out my name, telling me to stop, but I hopped off into the room without a second thought, landing with a soft thud.

I turned around, gesturing for everyone to follow me. "Come on!"

Everyone hesitated for a moment, but when the cables shuddered again, they scrambled to jump off. Peter and Haskell made it into the room quickly, and Haskell swept through the entire suite, checking it for any vectors. Logan followed right after. I extended my hand for Luke, and that was when the left cable snapped.

The quick jerk of the scaffold sent Luke flying off into the air, but Logan and I caught him in time before he slipped off the ledge and plummeted down. We pulled him up into the room. I could feel his heart hammering when I put my hand over his chest.

Panicking, Alfie leaped off the railings, letting go of the railing where Peter waited for him, arm reaching out, and swiftly grabbed hold onto Alfie, pulling him up.

"Hurry up! The other cable's gonna snap!" Logan yelled.

Miguel grabbed onto Yousef, who protested against his grip. Like a wolf on a cub, Miguel pulled Yousef by his jacket's scruff and threw the poor boy over the railing, right onto Luke and Logan's waiting arms. Yousef landed on top of both of them, screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Come on, old man! You're next!" Miguel screamed. Steve shrunk back at the edge, tightening his grip on the railing, and fervently shaking his head. "Steve, come on! Grab hold of my hand! I'll pull you up!"

The davit groaned from above, shaking the cables loose. The scaffold swung almost at a forty-five-degree angle. Miguel ran over to the elevated part of the platform, the one closest to the hotel suite's edge, holding onto the railing. Steve was still crouched over the lower half, too scared to jump over, fearing his bad knees wouldn't support his momentum.

"Miguel! Take my hand!" I shouted. Luke and Logan held on to my legs as I extended over the ledge, trying not to look down, or that my knees scraped over broken glass.

Miguel hesitated at first, looking back and forth between my hand and Steve below him. He spat a curse to himself before leaping off the four-foot-wide gap, reaching around my hands and arms. I screamed, felt like my shoulder joints popped right off from Miguel's weight. I lifted Miguel up as Luke and Logan pulled at me, Peter leaning over to grab hold of him too, and we all hauled Miguel into the hotel.

I turned back to the ledge and shouted, "Steve!"

I saw Steve merely smiled at me, gently placing his hands close to his chest, as if clutching his heart, and closed his eyes.

The cable snapped, and the scaffold swung around, plunging down toward the street, taking Steve with it.

I looked away before he hit the ground, only heard the awful crash and the screams of vectors nearby, alerted by the noise.

Luke helped me up to my feet as two vectors burst into the room from the hallway, charging toward us. Haskell took care of both with quick shots to the head. With Peter and Haskell taking point, we ran out into the hallway, witnessing the carnage illuminated only by the strobing red emergency lights and the fire alarm's deafening clangs.

We tried to get out through the stairwell, but it was blocked by something from the other side. So, we tried our luck with the same emergency stairwell. There, the debris hadn't taken the entire stairwell off the building, though we could still see the burning wreckage from above, often raining down flaming debris onto the alley below. We scampered down as fast as we could, probably the fastest I had run my entire life, pushing against the blocked gate from the pile of dead vectors behind it.

Once the gate opened, we rushed out to the alley, readying ourselves with Alfie's Molotovs before we hit the streets. Logan and Miguel threw a couple into the clustered vectors from the sidewalk and between a truck and a Honda. Peter and Haskell cleared a path for us to the humvee. I tried not to look at Steve's mangled body underneath the fallen scaffold as we passed.

Haskell hopped on top of the turret and swiveled the machine gun around, screaming and shouting all the nastiest words with each body as he shot at the vectors scurrying by the periphery. Peter climbed onto the humvee and started the engines.

Luke opened the back hatch of the humvee. I climbed into the hatch right away as Luke and Logan followed after. Miguel, Yousef, and Alfie climbed into the back seat.

Peter stepped on the gas, backing away from the already crowded street, swerving through narrow gaps between vehicles until he reached Pearl Street, and drove out to the edge of downtown.

"What now? Where are we going next?" Alfie asked, trying to ease his panting.

"We're going to the airport." Peter said.

"But we'll have to drive through a large horde!"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Obviously."

Luke wrapped his arms around me, and I trembled under his embrace, on the brink of tears. Felipe, Aria, Gabe, Steve...all dead. I looked at my hands, saw that I still had Felipe's blood all over it. I wiped it off the hem of my shirt, but it wouldn't go away. Logan gently grabbed my wrist and handed me his water bottle. I shook my head, telling him to save the water for later.

I hid my hands in my jacket. I didn't want to see them.

"We keep moving forward, remember?" Luke whispered to my ear.

I looked up at him, saw the glassy stare he gave me. I put my head against his chest, felt his thudding heartbeat getting slower as his muscles relaxed. I wrapped my arms around him, too; his warmth enraptured a sense of calm and ease into me.

I felt something wet. I pulled my arm back a little, saw a smear of fresh blood on my fingertips. I turned to face Luke. "Can you turn around for me?"

Luke narrowed his gaze, confused. He did it, anyway. With his back facing me, I slowly raised the hem of his shirt just over his head.

I gasped.

"What? What do you see?" Luke asked.

Right on Luke's lower back was a small bite.