Day 16: April 24th, Saturday

Two weeks since Ground Zero

If I had known that sneaking into a big city like Albany to be difficult, then I was not prepared. They built walls in a week. Walls made of plywood and stacked vehicles, yet still hard to get into without some guard catching you, built on the remnants of I-87 and I-90, which combined, wrapped around the city like a barrier itself.

Half a mile out, the walls (where the checkpoints were stationed) were littered with landmines. I almost stepped onto one until a cat beat me to it (and the little bugger exploded into tiny bits, poor thing). Then, a squad came out to check it out, and I had to hide behind some logging equipment filled with rusted nails that would get me a bad case of tetanus. Luckily, I wasn't injured.

Refugees had camped outside the city walls; the south was still burning, but the vectors hadn't come north yet. Most of these camps congregated to where the checkpoints were. It had been three days since we got here, and we were still not inside the city.

I snuck into one of the survivor camps wearing my civilian clothing. The once open fields were littered with makeshift tents and a ravine brimming with piss and shit. There were already looting and thieving in the camps, even murder, as the survivors desperately held onto their belongings and what little food they had left.

I felt ashamed that I hoarded a ton of it back in our camp in Thompsons Lake. Near but far enough from the city. It was a perfect place to make camp, unseen by the ruffians and other reprobates in the refugee camp. None of the survivors ventured out that far, although there were some close calls.

I learned from an older woman in the western camp that they allowed a certain number of people between 8 AM and 5 PM per day via a lottery. Those who were deemed sick were denied entry. Then I learned that they were targeting the old and those who couldn't help out inside the safe zone, the woman hearing one soldier calling them dead weight. Her son and his family abandoned the old woman because they would lose their spot on the waiting list if they didn't.

"I understand what Charlie has done," the old woman told me, managing a small smile. "I want my grandchildren to be far away from here. Even though it is hard for them if they are alive and safe once this is over, that's enough for me."

It was painful for her to be discarded so quickly, yet she still cracked a smile. She was alone in one makeshift tent that had holes. It rained yesterday, so everything inside was damp and wet. She was coughing, realized she caught a cold, but I didn't see any bite marks on her skin. She wouldn't make it in another day or two. She had arthritis and chronic pain on her wrist, just under her left thumb.

I offered her a couple of my Advil, but she quickly put it inside my pocket and whispered, "Get that out of sight." She looked around if everyone noticed, calming down when the coast was clear. "There are already many sick people here, and they will hurt you to get what you have."

She looked at my pocket again and fished one pill out, quickly popping it into her mouth. She winked at me, said, "Thank you, young man."

"I have a place that is not as shitty as this one," I whispered close to her ear.

She laughed. "Haven't you been paying attention, dear? This is the end of the world. Everything is shit," she said. "Thank you for the offer, but I will stay here. If this is where I die, I'll meet my Vincent soon. Plus, there are children here. I tell them stories to help them escape this reality for an hour or two."

I left her after that with a frown on my face. Most of the people around this camp would die once the vectors ran out of prey down south. They would overrun this camp in a matter of minutes.

I wanted to scream at the walls to let us inside. Fuck the waiting list. Couldn't they see what horrors were waiting for them? If these people in the camps became infected, thousands would march through these plywood walls, and I didn't think they had enough bullets to get rid of all of them.

I tried to think about what I had learned about Albany. Seven significant roads served the only way in and out of the city. There were two gates per lane, one beyond the wall (the checkpoint) manned by a dozen soldiers, and the other was built on the wall itself, where another dozen soldiers guarded it.

The other smaller roads were already destroyed or blocked by mines and other booby traps. Some had watchtowers, which the other survivors already tested. Yesterday, a group of armed men stormed the city's western flank, and save for five, all of them were decimated in a hail of bullets. Those who snuck in and got caught were kicked out, and those that resisted found their dead bodies floating down the Hudson River.

Boats that managed to sail upriver and reached the city were turned away, forcing the occupants to disembark. And if they resisted, they found their boat in flames a few minutes later, the survivors having to fight the current in the water, had no choice but to be rescued by the soldiers, and then placed them into one of the camps with nothing on their backs.

Interestingly, the soldiers had singled out young women down the line at each checkpoint. If you were under the age of thirty, pretty and single, you were most likely to be placed inside a truck waiting by the checkpoint and transported to the city. Wives brought out their makeup and skimpy outfits and stood out on the line. A few soldiers would allow a woman's family inside once they struck a deal, and the rumors began to spread across the camp about these types of morbid and horrifying arrangements.

All I had in my head at that time was: What the fuck is going on inside the walls?

—

Two-and-a-half days of scouting the walls and the outlying area, I returned to my camp and relayed everything I had learned on the third day.

"Poor lemmings," Steve said. "Are you sure no one followed you?"

I shook my head. One did try, but a quick show of my gun holstered on my hip shut him up, and he wandered away, looking for easier prey. "Almost. Gave him something of a show, though," I said.

"The refugee camps are quickly dwindling with supplies, and the riots will start. Seriously, had the military command inside the city ever thought about a worst-case like that?" Luke said.

"Maybe they're waiting," Gabe suggested.

"For them to die off? For the vectors?"

"We're lucky we have food and supplies," Alfie said.

Our supplies would last us a month if we rationed everything. We could boil the water coming from the lake and catch some freshwater perch and bass. But sooner or later, the vectors would reach this place, too. We were already starting to hear other noises in the night, animals that I hadn't heard of, and I swore I hear some big growling sound that I pinpointed belonging to a big cat, possibly more tigers like the one we saw on the riverbank. I kept imagining the hyenas laughing, and I didn't want to meet them again. The last time was a close call.

"So, what's our plan? How do we get in?" Aria asked, putting us back on track.

"Hopefully, one of the survivors knocked down a wall or something. That'd make things easier for us," Steve muttered.

"Maybe if we dressed up in drag, they'll let us in?" Logan suggested cheekily.

I guffawed. "Ha! If only."

"Logan wearing one of my clothes," Aria chuckled. "I don't think they'd fit you very much with that build of yours."

"Heh. I'll need it in XL size," Logan said.

"Hey, maybe that's not bad. I mean, not on wearing drag, but we can still use our uniforms as a disguise," said Luke. "That option is still open."

I let out a soft groan. For the past three days, I had already explained to Luke that his uniform plan was a good idea to get us here safely from West Point without trouble. Some soldiers patrolling regarded us from afar as another patrol team; civilians avoided us like the plague itself. When we showed up in a town, we held authority for a brief moment to get what we want, especially more resources (and I still felt guilty of the latter). No one had noticed us so far.

But to completely flaunt and bluff our way through the gates wearing military gear with dozens of veteran soldiers prying us if we were legitimate...well, things could go south real fast. To enter the gates, they probably learned codewords unique to each gate.

Still, Luke held onto the disguise. If everyone fell for it these past few days, they should fall for it today, he reasoned.

I said no every time.

As the days passed, I liked Logan's previous idea even more. Perhaps we should continue west, but it was tempting to stay with safety only a few miles away. Helicopters and planes flew out of the airport daily, transporting survivors off to other parts of the country, safe zones far from the affected area.

I wanted to be one of those survivors on the plane. I had no clue what I'll find if I continue down the highway and drove west, maybe a vector on my path or another armed survivor who wanted to take what was mine. Safety was in Albany and one of those planes, carrying me back to Oregon and be with my parents again.

We had to sneak in.

I hadn't realized that someone in our group had taken the strategies of some survivors back in the camp to heart. By noon, as Miguel called for lunch, Tessa, her grandfather, and brother were gone. They had taken one of the humvees, but they didn't bring any resources except for their clothes and a couple of canned goods.

"We need to form a search party," Logan said. "It's stupid to scavenge right now."

"I don't think they're scavenging," Aria said. She pointed out that some of her makeup (which she took from an abandoned store a few miles south) and a couple of her clothes were gone. Tessa took it with her.

"I thought she was only joking," Yousef said.

"You knew about this?" Aria asked, shocked.

"Well, Tessa and Gabe were talking about it, and it just so happened that I was there with them, you know? I thought they were making fun of it. Prostitution? I mean, come on!"

Aria raised the empty makeup kit she looted days ago. "Well, it wasn't."

"I can't believe Steve would go along with it," Felipe said. Margot stood beside him, pressing a gentle hand on his shoulder, whispering something in French. I was too far away to hear them.

I should have known. This wasn't an act of betrayal like what Bobby and Nat did. They didn't even take food or any of our guns with them. Tessa thought she found a better way to save her family, forced into a horrible arrangement. She realized that if they stuck with us, they'd be dead trying to sneak inside the walls. We'd been stumped on the plan for days.

Her new plan was safer.

—

I brought Logan and Miguel with me to look for the Katingers.

We made sure to wear combat uniforms this time. I didn't want the other survivors to bother us. The gates often had one or two patrols coming out of the city, and the camp survivors quickly avoided them entirely. We drove around the humvee until it was almost evening, looking out for the patrolling soldiers, and made sure to remember the exit roads for a quick getaway. We found the second humvee abandoned not far away from the Southwest Camp. Fortunately, no one noticed it.

"Man, oh, man. They should have said something," Miguel said. He checked the humvee's interior. "At least they didn't pry something off of this baby."

"They might come back for it if their plan doesn't work," said Logan.

"Here's to hoping."

"The Katingers are in the camp," I said. "I'm sure of it."

"You're not going down there," Logan said. "You know soldiers patrol the area, even the camp, and are always checking for identification. All our IDs got burnt to a crisp if you hadn't forgotten."

"I have to stop whatever stupid thing they're trying to pull," I said. "Prostitution is not the answer. Steve and Gabe should know better, pressuring Tessa for it. She's their family, for crying out loud."

"I have a feeling it's the other way around," Miguel said.

"I don't care who planned what."

"But what if it worked? Should we let them? I mean, they get to be inside the walls."

I shook my head. "I'm going down there and talk some sense into them. This is not the right way. What the fuck were they thinking?"

"People got to do what they got to do, Bren. You're only seventeen."

"What has my age got to do with everything, Miguel? Let me remind you that I got us here."

"I'm just saying the world isn't as black and white as you make it out to be, man. I'm older than you kids by more than a decade. It should—it should be me leading you. I'm the adult in the room."

"That's not fair."

Miguel thinned his lips, trying to hold back some words, but he quickly recovered as he heaved a sigh. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry. Look, I know that you saved us many times, Bren. I trust you, even if you're a juvenile."

"You make it sound like I'm a crook."

Miguel chuckled. "I'm just trying to wrap my head around our situation. Think about it. I've known you for more than two weeks now, but the Katingers don't know what you pulled back in the city. You made the impossible happen. Yeah, yeah, they heard the stories, but they didn't see what you can do. If you try to talk to them, they'll only see you like some kid arguing against the grown-ups. They're years older than you, Bren. At least Alfie knew what you are capable of. That's why he didn't go along with the Katingers."

Miguel had a point. The Katingers had only met me a few days ago, unlike Miguel. Either they chucked my hide as pure luck for what happened at West Point, I still hadn't taken into account that yes, they were the grown-ups of our group and that I had forgotten I was still a kid in their eyes. I realized then that they probably thought I was out of my element planning how we would sneak into Albany. I wasn't a tactician, nor am I a real soldier. I was just a high school kid. They thought I couldn't pull it off getting into Albany.

Logan cleared his throat. "If you two are done blowing steam, maybe you guys want to see this." He handed me his binoculars.

Logan pointed at the Southwest gate where people still lined down the pavement, hoping to be let in even at this late hour. The refugees hoped to show their haggard faces would gain them some sympathy, showing their kids off, looking as sad and somber as ever. They should have looked out for the soldiers that singled out people from the crowd (behind their CO's backs), taking bribes, and even making deals. Their Commanding Officers were either idiots or were deliberately ignoring it. Based on their presence and how the other soldiers reacted around them, I saw two officers by the gate, manning the narrow entrance (blocked by a sliding chain-linked fence) that could only fit two people abreast.

I saw the Katingers there at the front.

Tessa wore the blue sundress Aria had looted in one store from an abandoned town days ago. The two girls were of similar build, so the clothes perfectly fit her. Tessa had chosen to keep her makeup minimal but put on red lipstick and some eye shadow, giving her a natural look. She let her long hair down along her shoulders, keeping her poise as strong yet tender. Tessa caught one soldier's eye, who sauntered over toward them.

The discussion took a minute or two. There was some pointing between her and the CO by the entrance. It seemed he hadn't noticed Tessa and the Katingers yet. But the soldier seemed relaxed, and I thought I saw him laughing at what Tessa said, and she chuckled demurely in return. Once the ice was broken, she started pointing at her grandfather and brother, who stood stiff behind her.

The soldier's shoulders slumped.

Disappointed.

There were a few words exchanged again, and Tessa seemed disappointed at first. Steve leaned over to his ear, the soldiers walked away a little to talk to someone on the radio, but behind him, Steve and Tessa were arguing and hushing each other. Gabe stood frozen. Then, the soldier and Steve talked, though the soldier still addressed Tessa from time to time, never hiding the fact that he was interested. Suddenly, another soldier by the gates waved them over, pointing at Tessa and Gabe. I realized they're allowing the two to come inside. Steve nodded, brought his two grandchildren into a brief embrace, and started walking off.

I thought Tessa would stop him—she was about to—but she paused on her tracks. She turned, grabbed Gabe's arm, and the two walked with the soldiers through the entrance.

Logan and Miguel's mouth hung open.

"I guess their plan worked," Miguel said, "but it looks like Steve's coming back."

I wished Tessa and Gabe's plan worked out fine. They were now safe behind the walls, but I didn't know what their treatment would be like inside, especially the deal they made. I planned to ask Steve what they had discussed. Just like the old woman I talked to earlier, they weren't letting older people in. Steve was almost pushing to his seventies, and maybe whoever was behind the radio had deemed Steve a deadweight (Interestingly, they were letting a few older people inside at a specific day, probably trying to meet some quota. Perhaps they thought they couldn't discriminate on their choosing or else their superiors might have an issue).

We waited for Steve up on the hill where he left the humvee. Miguel had driven it a mile away on a narrow side dirt road used for tractors and farm equipment, out of the prying eyes of the main road. We thought of moving it to the suburbs, but that would only raise suspicion from a passing patrol.

The sun slowly came down from the horizon, but Steve hadn't gone up the hill yet.

"That old man lost or something?" Logan asked me, scanning the makeshift shantytown with the binoculars. "I don't think he's staying down there, hoping he'll be let in tomorrow. They already said no."

"Desperation, maybe? But Steve ain't like that," Miguel said over the CB radio. He stayed back with the second humvee. "Perhaps some punks down there roughed him up? He does look healthier than most people down there, thanks to our food. A lot of folks get suspicious about that kind of thing."

"You two made some good points," I said. I glanced at the waning sunlight, the sky almost turning gloomy. "But we'll have to wait until dark. I have some first-aid kit in my bag in case he's hurt. But we'll have to wait for him to get up here. He'll return for the humvee. Between the camp below and ours, he'll have a better chance with the latter."

"It's your call. I'm going to let the others know what's up." Logan took out his CB radio and hailed Luke on the other line.

I took out the night vision goggles. In a few minutes, it'll be dark out. Fortunately, it was almost a full moon.

We waited for an hour.

Then two.

Steve never showed up.