It didn't take long for them to stumble onto a casual wear store. It wasn't in great condition, like most other stores they'd come across. The military's influence didn't stretch this far out, and it showed.

They didn't stand on ceremony and cleared the store of all its undead inhabitants. Levi grabbed a white shirt from a wrack used it to wipe the blood smeared over him.

After clearing his face and hands, he picked up a grey jacket, simple shirt and dark trousers. Discarding his dirtied clothes, he changed into his new ones before they set off again.

Continuing to try and get onto the nearby interstate. But each time, they ended up encountering another military encampment, making them backpedal.

"It's pointless trying anymore. They've probably got soldiers stationed on every intersection," Ricky sighed, tightening the straps of his backpack. "We can't avoid them. We'll need their permission to go through."

"They've enacted martial law. They aren't gonna let us do as we please. There's a good chance if we run into them, they'll herd us towards one of the refugee camps they've got set up across the city." Levi said, running his hand through his hair. "But it looks like that's the only way. Keep sharp. If they look like they're gonna do anything, run." making Ricky give an unconfident nod.

—

Moving towards the encampment before them, the sound of the helicopters flying overhead rang into their ears. The soldiers watched them approach with caution. Their weapons pointed forward. "Stop right there." shouted one soldier, likely the senior officer.

"Put your hands where we can see them and move towards us slowly," he continued, staring them down with a scrutinising gaze, which hardened when he spotted the guns both men carried.

"Your weapons. Take them out nice and slow. And put them on the ground and kick them towards us." he demanded, his tone taking on a dangerous edge.

Levi pulled his pistol from his waist and followed the man's instructions. Getting the stink eye as the man's eyes looked down at his knife and sword and said, "And the knife and sword."

Levi levelled his gaze, meeting the man's furrowed eyes. "This is a family heirloom," he delivered in a monotone fashion as he rubbed his hand against the sword handle. Not in an especially threatening manner, but his actions unsettled the soldiers. Their eyes hesitant as they looked towards Levi.

"You'll get it back. We have to check for infection first. I can't risk my men's lives by leaving you armed. If you're clear, you can have it back." the leader said, his composed atmosphere rekindling the soldier's confidence.

Levi shrugged and pulled the sheathed sword from his belt. Before walking forward towards his gun, startling the soldiers who raised their weapons in agitation. Only to see him place the katana onto the floor.

Seeing Levi and Ricky unarmed, the leader, a man who looked to be around his early thirties, walked forward. He had a simple buzzcut and dressed in the military fatigues that were well worn. Stains of dirt and grime clung to the camouflage pant bottoms which hugged his black paratrooper boots.

He walked towards Levi and Ricky and stopped a respectable distance away. Allowing Levi to get a closer look at his face. He had a grizzled look about him, one of a man who'd seen and done many things. But there was also a kind of arrogance that Levi couldn't place. His tired, hazel eyes had bags underneath–so did all the soldiers. They were the eyes of men that hadn't seen sleep for a long while, exhaustion written on all the men's faces.

When he turned to face Levi, there was an uncertainty in his gaze. "You ex-military," he asked.

"No. Was in the mercenary circles for a while, though," Levi responded, getting a whistle from the man.

"Ah, no wonder. Rare to see one so young," he said, rubbing his beard as the men behind him began gathering the weapons on the floor. "What group did you operate in?"

"I operated under the Taka-ha group," responded Levi, making the man's eyes go wide. The other soldiers also looking over with curiosity when they heard his answer.

"Sheesh, you were one of those crazy fucks. How long were you with them?" the man said. While a soldier in hazmat gear moved forward, checking Ricky and Levi's temperature with a thermal thermometer.

"Four years from 2002 until 2006," Levi said.

"Shit, no way, so you were in Afghanistan as well?" he replied, getting a nod from Levi. "Stuff they back there was the stuff of Legends in our unit. I still remember when our unit first heard of the Butcher of Kandahar. Shit sounded like a fantasy."

The gas-masked man nodded to the officer after taking both the men's temperature, who said, "Take your clothes off. We gotta check for bites."

"Why'd you need our temperatures for then?" asked Levi as he began to get undressed for the visual inspection. Getting a thoughtful look from the leader.

"I shouldn't tell you this, but as a fellow vet, I'll bend the rules. They reckon it's been spreading airborne. Half out unit came down with a fever out of nowhere. The top brass has got all remaining unit's on multiple shifts to make up for the loss of manpower." he said, the other men in the unit grimacing at his statement.

"We've lost some good men to this. People I considered my brothers. One morning they were okay, and the next, they came down with a flu—whole medbay filled with them. When we got news about the virus, they ordered us to put them down like dogs." he spat out through his grinding teeth.

"So, do the military not have everything under control?" Levi asked, noting the soldiers faces darkening at his question.

"Control? I don't know if I'd call it that. There are too many infected and too much ground to protect. We're holding on for now, but we're all getting overworked. Everybody's worried about their families. And men are being lost all the time on the excursions to try and clear the unprotected parts of the city" He laughed.

"It's only been two days, and there have already been calls for us to block off the highways and withdraw to protect only the refugee camps." he continued, biting his lip as he spat at the ground. "It doesn't help when the stream of refugees are bringing more of those things with them."

Finding no marks, the masked soldier gave the nod and said. "Sergeant, they're clear," making the leader smile and nod as he grabbed Levi's sword from one of his men and held it out towards Levi.

"Can't have a former Taka-ha member without a sword, now can we," he said as Levi grabbed the sword from his grasp and slipped it back through his belt. The sergeant then held his hand out, "Names Lyle, but the boys around here call me Sergeant."

Levi looked towards his outstretched hand and grasped it as he said, "Names Levi. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, sergeant Lyle." getting a grin from the man.

"Now, usually, we'd have someone escort you onto the interstate so that you could join the other refugees. But it doesn't look like you want to go to one of the refugee camps. Do you?" Lyle gestured, his eyes meeting Levi's.

"No, Roxbury's our target. There are people there we need to find," Levi said, dusting his clothes that'd been on the floor.

"Why don't you want protection in the refugee camp?" questioned Lyle, a bright look in his eye.

"We plan on leaving the city sometime soon. By the end of the week probably," Levi responded.

"Would you look at that, me and the boys were thinking the same thing," Grinned Lyle, motioning his arms towards the group of soldiers nearby. "Reckon we could use someone with your kinda skills. Some of my boys are still kinda green."

Hearing his words, Levi didn't react though he had begun to contemplate his words. The extra manpower wouldn't go amiss—especially trained soldiers. And by the sounds of it, things weren't going great for the military.

His eyes glanced over Lyle and his men and he tried to find any reason to refuse, but he saw no reason to disagree. "What's your plan?" asked Levi.

"Bide out time and gather supplies at a building out in Milton about ten miles out. Before we abandon our post and rendezvous there," Lyle said, "From there, we set out to find our families. That's what me and the boys had planned anyway."

Levi looked at Ricky, noticing he already looked sold on the idea and asked. "When do you plan on abandoning your post?."

"We'll spend a few more days siphoning supplies before we join an excursion into one of the red zones. Using the mission to slip away to the rendezvous point. They'll presume us killed or missing in action, and that'll be the end of it. Probably around the same time as you, I would suspect, the end of the week." Lyle guessed.

"Do you have any way I can contact you?" asked Levi, making Lyle motion to one of his men, who threw a radio towards Levi.

"You can use one of these radios to contact me,"

"Well, Lyle, I hope we can meet again in a week's time. But for now, you think we can get those gun's back?" Levi said, getting the nod from the man whose men handed the pistols to Levi and Ricky.

Lyle walked back towards the encampment, and Levi and Ricky followed behind. Slowing when Lyle turned and said, "There's other men lining these streets. They keep watch on the stream of refugees keeping control and taking care of any undead."

"Keep your weapons hidden. If you look suspicious, they might confront you. If they catch you, they'll likely take your weapons." Lyle said, getting a nod from the two.

"Good luck. I hope you find who you're looking for." he finished, giving Levi a wave as they moved further away from the checkpoint.

—

The interstate was much further from the checkpoint. And they heard it before they saw it—the hive of activity filling the air before they saw the vehicles and people filling the road. The cars inched forward while groups of people with bags wretched over their shoulders walked along the edges. Soldiers watched on with cold eyes as they patrolled up and down the road.

Military checkpoints set up at intervals along the road were the reason for the slow traffic. The soldiers checking both the cars and people for infection.

Levi and Ricky wandered onto the road, the stony faces of the soldiers glancing over as they joined the crowds.

A woman screamed at the soldiers dragging a man from a blue sedan, causing the two to look over. Two soldiers restrained the man as they moved him towards a truck. His feet kicking and dragging as they pulled him away from the screaming woman, held back by another soldier.

"I'm not infected. I swear I'm fine," the man persuaded, but it fell on deaf ears. Causing his tone to become more desperate as he screamed, "Get the fuck off me. You can't do this. I'm not infected."

They ignored his pleas as they threw him into the back of the truck. But the wife's shrill cries continued, "Don't take him away. Please, I'm begging you."

Ricky's eyes furrowed at the scene, his fist clenching. "Ignore it," Levi said, attracting his attention as Levi walked away, ignoring the scene, making him bite his cheek.

"This is fucked," Ricky said, his eyes downcast, trying to block out the woman's screams. It wasn't hard when refugees streamed into the city all around him.

Families bundled into small hatchbacks. Children in booster seats while mothers cooed at their infants. Suitcases and items wire cabled onto cars and trucks. Filled with whatever they could gather before they upped and escaped towards the refuge.

The bags contained the crystallisation of their lives. Encapsulating the memories of cherished times. Of moments they held dear—each item holding a significance to each owner.

A scarf that signified the first date of a married couple. A baseball mitt received from a deceased father. A family heirloom passed entrusted for generations.

Taking whatever they could. Their lives unearthed to find safe refuge. To find protection away from the snapping jaws of neighbours and loved ones. That had tried to tear their flesh in the communities in which they fled.

There was a feeling of loss amid the confusion and panic—people clutching steering wheels and dragging their legs forward, tired and lost. In a strange place, uprooted from their homes. The lives they had eeked out for themselves crumbled. Their homes. Their communities. Places that held many memories left in a state of ruin. The people they knew buried beneath a deluge of blood.

Each face conveyed a different story of struggle. Of sacrifice and loss. Some more than others, their eyes clouded and confused. Existences lost as they followed the crowd, moving almost on instinct.

Ricky was particularly affected by the atmosphere. His mind conjuring the face of Giana. The same thoughts arising that had prevailed in his mind again and again over the last few days.

He didn't know if his thoughts were showing on his face, but Levi stopped and levelled him a look. "Let's hurry up," he said, "We've still got a lot of ground to cover," breaking him from his thoughts as they picked up the pace. Moving through the tangle of chaos towards Roxbury.