With thirteen miles left in the tank, we found a working gas station, one that wasn't a burned husk of its former self or had no gas, much to our relief. But our victory was short-lived.

"Well, there's gas below, but I don't think we're gonna get the pumps working," Logan said, pulling the main valve on the hose, but nothing came out of the nozzle. "Fucking shit. We need electricity."

Why can't everything be easy for a change? "I'm gonna take a look around for the generator," I said, letting out a heavy sigh. Every gas station has one in case of a blackout. I picked up my shotgun and slung it over my shoulders. "Alfie, Miguel, you two are coming with me."

Indy whined at the foot of the RV's entrance, staring expectantly at me. I shook my head. "Stay," I commanded. Indy huffed and lay down, seemingly content at watching Logan and Peter hounding around the gas pumps.

I continued, "Everyone else, keep a lookout. Grab anything you can find in the convenience store if you have to. Be careful. Remember, we're near a city."

"We will, chief," Yousef said with a curt nod.

Once we were out of earshot, Miguel whispered, "I think we're gonna have to leave Cora behind. That'd be a shame. We just built her."

"I doubt we'd fit inside the Honda Civic, Miguel. That can only carry five people," Alfie said.

"The day's still young," I reassured them. "There are lots of things we can find. Besides, we have an entire city to scavenge."

I pointed over the station's parking lot's guard rails overlooking Scranton, five miles from the city center. To be back near a city of the same size as Albany was nerve-wracking. Still, I had to remind myself that this wasn't like New York City. I crossed my fingers.

Miguel paled. "Shit. I'm not looking forward to that."

"Part of life, my friend."

The gas station sat on a hillside, built at the edge of a cliff near the northern suburbs. It had a picturesque view of the city skyline, towering horizon of postmodern, Art Deco, Industrial, and old mason architecture mismatched together. If I looked over the railings, past I-81, I could make out Viewmont Mall of sixteen acres of land, which was bigger than the Alphas' mall base. I could never get over how eerily quiet a city of this size was, making me feel like I'm out in nature, listening to the woods, the birds, and the wind.

Except for the vectors.

Down there on the mall, the parking lot was surrounded by vectors, singing together in their terrible moans and screeches that would make anyone's blood curdle.

"Holy. Fucking. Hell." Miguel gasped when we reached the rails. "I've never seen anything like it!"

On the interstate highway, thousands of vectors aimlessly ambled in one direction, like a river of foul-smelling and blood-soaked bodies flowing around abandoned vehicles, all heading southward. They reminded me of foot soldiers marching off to war; horrifying to see.

"Where are they going?" Alfie asked.

"This is the horde," I said, realizing. "They're moving toward the border, to the front."

"But there must be millions! How on earth can the military defeat them?"

"I...I don't know."

This wasn't even the only horde going south. There must be hundreds of hordes of similar size, trampling everything in their path. I was glad we took the backroads instead of the major highways. If we ran through them, I knew for sure we wouldn't survive.

"I feel sorry for whoever is trapped down there," Miguel said, gesturing down at the mall.

I took out my binoculars and scanned the rooftops. Along the side of the wall were dozens of banners of SOS, WE ARE ALIVE, and HELP US. But there was one banner that read GOD IS NOT REAL, written in someone's blood. It didn't take a while to find three rotting bodies in a tight embrace on top of a mattress, surrounded by empty cans of canned goods and soiled blankets. I realized that the third body nestled between the two was a small child. I wondered if they died of starvation or if it was self-inflicted. Either way, it was hard to stomach.

I shivered, not even want to entertain the idea of coming down there for scavenging, even though the place was rife with supplies, including a ton of food. But we're not so lucky today.

"Come on. Let's find that damn generator," I said.

We went behind the convenience store, found the generator sitting inside a fenced area with a sign over the chained gates: EMPLOYEES ONLY. KEEP OUT! I asked Miguel to run back to the RV for the bolt cutters, returning a minute later with the tools in tow and broke the padlocked chains.

Alfie stuck his nose over the fuel tank; then, a smile lit up his face. "There's gas still in there!"

"Well, what are you waiting for? Fire it up!" I said. I wasn't too worried about the noise since we were far away from the populated areas.

Alfie started clicking buttons on the control panel, and the generator throttled back to life like sweet music to my ears. The backlights over the employees' door lit up, and so did the neon anchor signs above the store's entrance. The inflatable tube man started dancing in front of the station, bopping his head left and right and down, arms frantically waving as if celebrating. I would never have imagined I would miss the low hum of electricity, a lifeline to a civilization I remembered, a shadow of the past.

Haskell loaded up Cora and the Honda Civic with a full tank, but before we could refill our reserve containers, the pump valve suddenly shut off, signaling it had run out of gas. We managed to fill only a quarter of a can out of three.

Better than nothing.

"There's a horde nearby," I warned Peter and Logan.

"It's kind of hard to miss them with the noise and all," Logan said, a finger pointed upward.

I paused to listen, their echoes reaching across the city. They've replaced the sound of cars speeding across the highways. Instead of wheels, it was their haunting cry for death.

Logan added, "Like an ex that constantly reminds you that she's still there."

Peter rolled his eyes. "That's, er, a weird way of putting it. Anyway..."

"Still, It's a problem," I said. "If they're all heading south, most of the roads point in the same direction because of the mountains. We're gonna be driving in parallel with the horde using the backroads, but I guarantee that we'll run into them, eventually."

Haskell suddenly appeared behind Peter, putting his arm around his shoulders, and flashed me his winning smile. "Then, we'll drive faster! We'll take turns behind the wheel, hit Northumberland by tomorrow, I reckon. What do you say, Bren?"

I thought about it. We'd been playing it safe for the past three days, not wanting to attract too much attention, which caused us to lose a lot of ground that we should have covered already. I thought we had more time, but we're now racing against the vectors toward the border.

"Okay," I said finally.

"Yes!" Haskell threw a fist in the air. I had a sneaking suspicion he just wanted to use the heavy-duty snowplow to ram through anything on the road. I could see it in his eyes.

"Reclamation day is coming soon. I do not want to get caught between the military and the infected during the campaign, and no doubt that's gonna be some bloody business."

Peter and Haskell shared a worried look, saw Haskell briefly touched his dog tag around his neck, and Peter avoided my gaze.

Logan bumped Haskell over the shoulder, asking, "Hey, if we're taking turns driving Cora, can I have a go?"

"Have you driven a large vehicle before?"

"Does a sixty-footer yacht count, yeah? So, can I drive?"

Haskell stiffened. "Baby steps, dude. Baby steps."

We hopped back into the RV, but Miguel opted to ride with Jun in the Honda to keep him company. Haskell drove parallel to I-81 through the backroads, and it took us fifteen minutes just to see the front of the horde heading south. I did not expect them to be this huge, looking like migrating ants behind our rearview mirrors. Peter had already named them the Scranton Horde, and their numbers would continue to grow in the following days. Past south of the city was numerous heavily populated cities and major towns. Gone were the days where we had to travel without seeing one for several miles from Colby. Now, we would see them in stretches of two or three, coming across bigger cities and township proper before we would reach the Red Zone's border.

I could only imagine the size of the other hordes coming from the larger cities like Philadelphia, Newark, or Boston.

No, I don't have to picture it. I was at Ground Zero. I've seen the New York horde in the flesh...and lived to tell it, I thought.

Not a lot of people could say that nowadays.

——

I kicked back on the bed again, was in the mood to watch Monty Python, anything that would cheer me up. Across the cabin, Logan did the same thing, lying on his back, a DVD player sitting on his chest, earphones over his head, and quietly watching an Arnold Schwarzenegger flick. He looked rather bored than entertained. I had the blinds down, couldn't stomach another glance of cities we passed with no signs of life.

Were there more survivors? Was everyone in the Red Zone infected? Excluding the Alphas, it had been almost a month since we last saw real human beings.

Peter knocked on the door and came in, shooting a dirty look at Logan before turning to face me. "We found a spot to rest for a while," he said.

"Oh? How come?" I asked.

"You didn't notice? We've been driving for ten hours. We need to stretch from time to time," he said, a small smile crept on his lips. "Don't you know it's dark out?"

I looked at the blinds. "Sorry. I was distracted."

Peter shrugged. "Oh well. There's a clearing up the hill, thought maybe that's where we should camp for an hour or so, get some bathroom breaks for everyone."

I tried to get up, but my back suddenly shot up and tensed. Shit, I didn't realize I had been in the same position for hours. I spat a curse, causing Peter and Logan to laugh at me.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it off," I grumbled.

"See? You do need a little stretching," Peter said before wagging his brows.

I snorted. "Ha! You'd have to catch your breath first."

"You think I can't handle that?"

"Oh, please. I know your limits."

"I've built up endurance..."

"What the fuck are we talking about right now?" Logan asked incredulously, pulling out the earphones, having heard the tail of our conversation.

Peter grinned down at him. "We're talking about fucking, Logan."

Logan paused, could feel his mind grinding for a response, but all he could manage was a shrug. I thought he'd have something more than...

"So...I didn't know those condoms I got would come in handy sooner rather than later," he said. I spoke too soon.

Peter raised his brows at me as if wanting me to take it, but I pushed past him, shaking my head, amused. "If I want to hit the hay, I'd be clear about it."

"Oh, Bren, that's not what I meant—!"

I was already out the door, heading for the entrance, though I couldn't put down the smile on my face. As Peter said, it was beginning to darken, the horizon transitioning into twilight in dark blue, purple, and hot pink hues.

I did as I was told, stretched my arms up and yawned, twisting my torso from side to side, and even bent down to touch my toes. Limber up, as they said.

Where the hell are we?

I looked around. We were surrounded by farmlands with no towns in sight, just the Appalachian mountains and the massive forest on the horizon to our west, and more flat farmlands and lowland hills to the east. There were some already touched by darkness, masking whatever lay beyond. It was then I realized we were now on a gravel road. Haskell had surmised it'd be a good idea to get out of the main roads while we rest.

The others climbed off the RV, stretching like I did, walking around to check what was around. Peter chastised Haskell for almost parking over a ditch, but the latter just laughed it off. Miguel muttered something about preparing for dinner, and we all realized how hungry we were, forgetting to eat lunch earlier.

As the others checked our systems, storage, and fuel, I walked several feet away from Cora, letting the fresh air enter my lungs. There was no hint of smoke or rotten anything in the wind, and I welcomed it.

"They're still out there," a voice spoke behind me.

I whirled around, felt heart leaped up to my throat, and seized it there, only to find Jun standing a foot away. I relaxed my fingers around the hilt of my knife. Taking a deep breath, I asked, "Shit, Jun. What makes you say that?"

Jun studied me for a second before nodding. He bent down to the ground and pressed his palm on the gravel. He cocked his head, gesturing for me to join him.

I placed my palm on the earth, waited for a while, but I didn't feel anything. It must have registered on my face because he let out a deep sigh.

"Have you ever touched the pavement while cars are passing by?" Jun asked. I shook my head. "Well, it's like a low constant throb, subtle, but make no mistake that it's there. This valley here forms an echo, a chamber of sorts for sound and vibrations to travel. They're still marching."

"We're not gonna stay here for long, you know."

"I know," he said.

Jun looked at me for a while, felt like I was some specimen he was studying, so I gently drew my hand back from the gravel and wiped the dust off the hem of my shirt. I got up, mumbled, "Er, thanks for telling me, Jun..."

"Others are beginning to hope," he said sternly, getting up with me. "Hope that everything will get better."

"But isn't that a good thing?"

"They need to lower their expectations."

"Canada and the US are mobilizing troops three times as large as the ones on D-Day, and possibly the largest campaign since Vietnam."

"But you have your doubts."

I paused. "Well...a healthy dose of it."

Jun fidgeted. "Not enough, then. Your government is treating it like a run-of-the-mill war, sticking to the rulebooks. But nowhere in human history have we fought an enemy this large, who doesn't think and strategize the way we do, or needs rest and sleep like us."

"They do need to eat," I said, reminding him of the honcho we found in Walmart.

"Humans can go two or three weeks without food, and that's stretching it. The vectors can last for months, but even when they're hungry, they still have the strength to rip through you. Did you see anyone in that horde starving in Scranton?"

Now that I thought about it, none of their bodies looked sunken or hollow, no signs of starvation at all. "But the honcho Logan and I saw..."

"Maybe it only affects kids. Since something in their biology makes them smarter than the adults, it also makes them susceptible to human vulnerability like hunger and dehydration. Maybe that's why we encountered so few of them."

"It's a theory," I said, having found nothing else to say. Or the vectors left nothing for them to turn, as hard as it is to imagine. I couldn't help but feel a little perturb talking to Jun, not because what he said alarmed me, but it was the most words he had spoken to me since we've met. He had been observing us all along.

"You know this campaign your president is trying to sell to the American people is rotten from the start given what we've experienced with the enemy. I know it won't end well."

"We haven't given our boys a chance yet."

"Confidence on a precarious plan is always admirable, but its execution straddles a thin line, reserved for judgment. Be as it may, I've watched you for days, and you need to speak your mind about your...healthy dose of skepticism."

"Why me? You've put a better argument than I ever could a second ago."

Jun stared at me incredulously, as if I said something ridiculous. "Well, they need to hear it from your own mouth. You're the leader."

I winced. Logan said the same thing, log ago...but I shook my head. "No. I'm not their leader, Jun. Everyone here contributes..."

"And they wait for your final word." Jun pursed his lips and took a tentative step closer. "These men follow you out of a quarantined New York because of your guts, which saved them. You pulled them out of a burning safe zone and saved them. You wrecked the Alphas in Colby with your bare hands and hunted down the stragglers like nothing for three weeks. I have to thank you for that.

You may still see yourself as a teenager, but make no mistake that the boy you once were is gone. Why do you think we are all here with you?" He lay his finger on my chest. "Stop hiding and take the reins, Bren Watts, or we will all fall apart." He reeled his finger back.

"Then, why leave the rail yard? If you think the vectors are unstoppable--"

"I took a chance," he said. "And it seemed to have paid off with the others. Maybe you can get me home."

"Isn't that hope?"

Jun huffed. "Yes. A healthy dose of it." He then gave me another curt nod before walking away.

I turned to watch the others hanging around the RV's entrance, talking animatedly, heard Yousef and Alfie laughing by some joke the latter said. Behind them, Haskell was showing Miguel how to stretch his legs properly.

I knew their mood had lifted significantly since the president's announcement, how they craved for every sliver of news on the TV, any mention of homemade their day a thousandfold, eagerly glued to the screen as thousands of soldiers began to arrive across the Red Zone's borders. They were hoping that it would all work out. Miguel had wished that if the military used the same tenacity as they did in New York, they could take the vectors out with one of those bombs to thin out the horde.

In the rail yard, we were under the shadow of the Alphas, had witnessed the horrors that they inflicted in other humans, and hunted down those who remained. But out here, we began to see. Home was beyond the border, and it was within reach. I didn't know if I could take that away from them, even if that hope seemed minimal.

It wouldn't hurt to have a little hope, I thought. I knew what hopelessness felt like, clawing within for something to hold onto before you lose yourself, stabbing beneath the skin that made you want to peel it off, and the days seemed to pass you by without a second thought.

I pulled myself together, hugging my jacket closer against the cool night breeze, and headed toward the others. When I passed by, Logan and Peter patted me on the back before heading into the RV and shut myself inside the cabin. It wouldn't hurt to have a little hope, I determined. So, I left it alone. After all, They're grown men. It wasn't my job to manage their expectations. My only job was to keep them alive in one piece until we reached Pittsburgh, and who knew where our paths would lead when we're there.

Would we all split up? Go our different ways? Keep in contact?

Would we see each other again?

Besides, they knew where I stand: If someone wants to fuck with our group, I'm gonna fuck them back.