We only encountered two dozen vectors wandering around the street. When a military helicopter would fly past, they would chase after it as if they could jump a thousand or so feet into the air. A few would stay and slowly amble about, but it was easy to sneak around them.

I picked up the pace, not wanting to get caught out in the open once dawn arrived. Out of my hiding space behind an overturned taxi cab, we ran to the other side of the street. Logan ran across next, followed by Luke and Miguel. I got to thank Bobby for that small brain of his. He had been whining about his boss's boat for the past three days. We wouldn't have known about it if he just shut the fuck up.

As I passed a building, an old white-haired woman looked out of her window from a bakery shop. At first glance, I had thought she was a vector, but when she saw me, she quickly reeled back, drawing the curtains to a close. I was tempted to go after her, but she came out a second later, brandishing a cleaver, telling me to get out of her sight. I didn't hear the words per se since she's behind the glass, but the rude gestures she made painted a clear picture. The others and I didn't need more convincing.

I saw the short bus first, parked in front of a luxurious apartment complex situated close to some pretentious art museum about fashion design. Cromwell Academy and New York City School District were written on the side of the bus.

"That's the bus," I whispered to the others.

"Damn," Miguel said, looking up. "We're going up through that?"

The building was thirty stories high, maybe more. Some of its windows were shattered, its facade mostly shrouded in the dark, lifeless. There were balconies on the corners, more extensive than my own house back in Portland, and I could even make out the figures of dead bodies dangling over the railing. I expected there might be plenty of vectors waiting inside.

"What did Bobby say his boss's apartment was?" I asked.

"The twentieth? Or was it the twenty-first?" Logan answered.

I turned to the others. They didn't remember as well. Bobby failed to mention the apartment number of his boss that we had to figure out for ourselves, unfortunately.

"Fine. We'll go check those two floors."

"It'll be faster if we split up," Miguel said.

I looked over the weapons we had with us. Miguel raised the cathedral's candlestick on his shoulder. It was the only weapon heavy enough to do massive damage at the last minute, at least twenty inches of brass and pure silver. Luke had kitchen knives duct-taped at both ends on a heavy-duty extension pole, and Logan had his fire-ax. I, however, only had my shotgun and the Smith & Wesson tactical knife that came issued with the police bag.

"But we'll still be outgunned. They have the firepower," Luke said.

"We can ambush them," Miguel said. "If the bus is still here, they're still up there."

I shuddered. There were too many variables at play. Should we go up, or should we stay down the lobby? Since we didn't even know where they went up, we might miss them. "Let's check out the bus first," I said, finally.

No one was inside the bus, noticing that they left the keys on the ignition.

I rolled my eyes. Can they ever be more ridiculous? I took the keys out of the slot, dangled it in front of everyone, and had a little chuckle. Even if they managed to slip through our fingers, they wouldn't be able to move anywhere. I saw their bags at the back, hopeful that they were stupid enough to leave their weapons, too.

No such luck. They brought the weapons with them. But they did leave the food.

"Ambush it is," I said.

——

It felt like we waited for an hour, and dawn would arrive soon.

I lost track of time hiding behind the front desk, kept my ears perked up for any sudden noise. The double glass doors shattered inward at the entrance as if a horde had managed their way into the lobby. There were a few bodies littered around, dead for a few days, at least. Lights flickered above the three elevator doors. They were still operational, and we kept a close eye on it just in case they would use it on their way down along with the emergency stairwell.

"We have to get up there. I think something's wrong," I said to the others.

"Do you think they got into some trouble?" Logan asked.

"Probably those things, more like," Miguel added.

Logan held a grim look. "I'll go."

"I'm going, too," I said. "Miguel, Luke, you two stay down here. But don't engage them if they're heavily armed. I won't allow them to slip away from us, but I'll keep the bus key."

"And if they're not armed?" Miguel asked.

I shrugged. "Maybe knock Bobby down a peg or two."

Miguel let out a smile. "Or three."

I patted Logan on the back, and he followed me to the stairwell, carrying his ax with him. He eyed the elevator, and I shook my head.

"I don't want them to know we're here," I said. "Besides, we don't know what's up there, and if it's a hallway full of those things, that metal box will become a death trap. We'll take the stairs."

I opened the emergency stairwell door. Winding steps in the thousands, going on forever, and the apartment was possibly on the twentieth floor. I couldn't even see the top. Some levels had their lights off, some flickering, while others were still working. Each step I took created an echo.

I listened. I didn't hear any vectors' ticks and or any other footsteps aside from Logan and me. The stairwell was clear.

"That's a hell of a lot of steps. You sure?" Logan asked.

"Yep. Ready?"

"Shit. Might as well."

I climbed up, pacing myself. My legs were going to be sore tomorrow.

——

As I got closer to the twentieth floor's door, I heard vectors scurrying behind it. We were already off to a bad start.

I turned to Logan, gestured to him to be quiet, and he nodded. "Vectors," I whispered.

I cracked the door open, saw that ten vectors were ambling around apartment 2022 at the opposite side of the emergency door. Fortunately, one of the infected had both of its legs sheared off, crawling instead on the floor, bleeding profusely. I shivered, thinking how it was possible they were still moving and walking about with two limbs gone.

More dead bodies scattered around the entire length of the hall—fresh ones—and the smell of gunpowder was still strong. Bobby and Joe might have used them, mowing through the lot. I noticed most of the apartment doors were opened; blood smeared on the floor and along their doorframes. I closed the door.

"Those bastards wasted our ammo?" Logan asked.

"It looks like it," I said, trying to suppress my annoyance.

"We can take care of ten freaks, right? Besides, you have that shotgun."

"With the cripple, yeah. But with the nine, eh, doubtful. Plus, I only have ten shots left. I have no idea how many are hiding inside the other apartments. If they hear a shot..."

"For crying out loud. Why does everything have to be so fucking difficult? How are we going to get rid of them?"

I shrugged. Looking around, I thought of maybe using the stairwell as a bottleneck, hoarding them into one tight space, and then took them out one by one, like what we did in the church with the gate. But I couldn't guarantee how many vectors are inside the building who would hear it. Then, we'd be fighting a two-sided battle, the worse way to go.

Then, I thought about the apartment and where it was situated. "They're in apartment 2022. Locked on the inside. It's where the vectors are clustered the most."

"So they can't get out, and we don't have a chance going in. Perfect," Logan said sarcastically.

"Wrong. I know another way in." I pointed upward. "The apartment is a corner suite. They'll have a balcony, and that's our way in. We can jump down from the twenty-first floor."

"You're fucking insane."

"Look, you can stay here if you want to. But I'm getting back our guns. Those are the only things that will help us get out of this city and protect ourselves. Besides, they might need our help, too. Joe's son is in there, and he could be hurt."

"But I'm just letting you know that a lot of things can go wrong. It's a long drop, Bren."

"I've seen you deadlift two hundred pounds, Logan. You can carry me down a balcony. I'm shorter and skinnier than you, and I don't weigh much."

"I can haul you over my shoulder, and I'd at least have a chance of catching you if you fall. But your plan, one wrong move, Bren, and it's instant death."

I gulped. "Then, let's not miss a step."