"Is this the right road?" I asked Peter, studying the maps that this Lt. Nunes had given them.

"For the fourth time, he said to take Stoney Creek Road; we take Stoney Creek Road," Peter said.

I frowned, still skeptical if the information was genuine. The path led us back to Dauphin, passed the house we slept last night, and then into the middle of nowhere. Route 22 was a choke point for anyone driving at this side of the Susquehanna River, but there were still many roads leading into Harrisburg out east, and that's where we were banking on.

On the map, the road kept hugging the hills that bordered Harrisburg, but out the window, all I saw was green. Green! Green! Green! Forests, creeks, and hills as far as the eye could see. It would lead us into the northern suburbs, taking the back roads of a neighborhood called Centennial Acres Park, sounding like some rich asshole's paradise, which I suspected was rarely used, past a place called Ellendale Forge and White Spring. I didn't see any signs outside pointing me in the right direction, making me feel horrible. To add salt to the wound, the road went on for miles without an intersection, just a continuous stretch of pavement with no sign of civilization aside from the high-voltage power lines cutting a path into the woods and over the hills.

I crossed my arms in a huff. "If he's lying, I'll personally go up there and give him a new asshole."

Peter shook his head. "As much as I'd love to watch that, Nunes lives in my hall, Bren. I had breakfast, lunch, and dinner with him on the same table for almost a year and had PT together. If he said there's someone who can take us inside Harrisburg, he's telling the truth. He's friends with a lot of cadets who died at Albany. I think he's just glad we made it out of there. He's a good guy."

Peter had told me many times Nunes's exact words. Another cadet in the same class ass them was on a secret gate where scouts would enter and exit into the Red Zone, supposedly to map out the grounds and track the hordes approaching the city before Reclamation Day would commence.

"The I-81 bridge downtown is the only one that stands," Peter told me. "The rest have been bombed. The beltway is our only way across the river. Apparently, they're letting refugees who used to live inside Harrisburg."

But not the ones that arrive, like us, I thought grimly.

Nunes would radio the guy, let them in, and they were free to cross Harrisburg without escort and be armed at all times.

That was what concerned me. Be armed. Harrisburg was supposed to be another Safe Zone like Albany, so what happened? What the hell was going on inside Harrisburg? Nunes also mentioned staying away from downtown, but that was the point! The bridge was downtown, the only way across the river unless we would risk our limbs to try the bridges downriver, but then, it would already be too late. We would be stuck with the army and the vector horde on each side, and I would not let that happen.

"Uh, guys, we got a situation," Logan crackled through the radio. He was driving the Honda Civic behind us with Jun.

Again? I grabbed the radio from the dashboard. "Yeah. What's up?"

A pause. "Bren, there are people following us."

Shit. This was not what I want to hear. "How many cars?"

"At least four. Jun's the one that spotted them, and he recognizes some of them from the highway. They're lagging about a quarter of a mile. I doubt we'd lose them on this road unless there's an intersection coming, is there?"

I looked over to Peter, and he shook his head. We're out of luck. "Can't do that."

"Bummer. What are we going to do?"

I couldn't let them follow us to the wall if ever there was one. Nunes would be calling for a small number getting in, but six cars, including the four behind us, sounded too many, and I had no idea how many people were inside each one.

"Stop the car in five minutes. Block the road. I want everyone armed."

"Copy."

"Bren! Are you sure?" Miguel gasped. "They might be packing, too."

"I'm going to say hello," I said.

"And we don't exactly look friendly," Yousef said.

"That's their problem. If they are following us, it means they need us. You can't shoot the messenger when you haven't read the message yet."

I strode toward the cabin and grabbed my gear—the Mossberg shotgun, Betty already holstered, the vest, my trusty hatchet, knife, extra ammo, and for good measure, I stuffed a screwdriver between my socks and ankles. Cora skidded to a halt in the middle of the road at a slight angle. Logan drove past to hide the Honda Civic behind the RV; His car had less protection than the RV. We all climbed out.

"Listen up. If they're lagging a quarter of a mile, then they would be on us in a minute," I said. "Haskell, I want you up on that roof. If it gets dicey, hop behind the wheel and pick up everyone before we book it out of here. Logan, Jun, and Alfie, I want you three to hide behind that tree line to flank them. If I scratch my left wrist like this, that's the signal to start shooting, understand? Miguel and Peter, you'd take the tree line to the right. Same thing as what I showed Logan and the others. As for you, Yousef..."

"What about me?"

"You'll stand next to me."

Yousef's eyes widened. "Next to you?"

"You said something about us not looking friendly. You have a friendly face, Sef. It'll make these strangers feel at ease if you're beside me."

All Yousef could muster was a tiny gulp. "Um...okay."

Miguel patted him on the back. "Don't worry, kid! I got you that revolver, didn't I?"

"Y—yes," Yousef stammered.

"Stay by the door. When the shooting starts, you can duck inside."

"Okay."

"You think they're gonna steal our stuff?" Haskell asked.

"Thieves are just as bad as vectors," I said. "That's what the Alphas were, ambushing good folks and stealing their stuff. If these people are planning exactly that, I'd be happy to put them down."

"On your call, boss," Miguel said.

I nodded. "Alright. Let's move out!"

It didn't take long for the newcomers to catch up to us. I stood in the middle of the road with a shotgun on my side, loaded and ready, saw the minivan first, almost laughed at the sight, a typical soccer mom, family-man wagon coming toward me, and so out of place in the middle of nowhere. It stopped just a dozen paces ahead of me. I dared not look to the tree line and gave everyone away, so I kept my body still. I hoped they hid well.

Soon, they were followed by a vintage orange Volkswagen van with Christmas lights decorating the roof along with a Black Lives Matter and a Pride flag, then the unmistakable banner of a marijuana leaf. Then, I noticed a giant gnome vaping on the roof for some odd reason next to three black dildos.

The last two were a yellow Jeep Wrangler and a pickup truck. However, the latter had a makeshift box of chained-link fences and wood at the back, large enough for people to cram inside, their very own shark cage. I saw at least six men sitting there, craning their necks for a good look at me. They snickered to each other, and I realized they weren't some sort of prisoners; the cage was for their protection.

Somehow, it didn't surprise me to find the twins I met earlier stepping out of the minivan. Miguel told me that his name was Colin. Or was it Randy? It didn't really matter. The man leading gestured for the other to stop, whispering that he would handle this. The other man didn't look pleased, but he hanged back anyway.

I kept my voice steady as the man approached, gesturing for him to stop. "Why are you following us?" I asked.

He quickly put his hands up. I didn't see the rifle he had with him earlier, but someone inside the car could've been aiming it at me already. "Look. I think we got on a bad start. It's my fault, and I wholly apologize for that. My name's Colin, by the way. Colin Wheeler. Back there's my brother, Randy. And you are?" Colin extended his hand out.

Well, at least that settled the name. I didn't shake his hands, and he slowly reeled it back; his smile fell off his face. "Let me ask you again. Why are you following us? You here to steal our shit?"

"No! Not that. We wouldn't dare...Okay, let me explain. My wife saw two of your friends talking with one of the soldiers earlier."

"Lots of people in the crowd were talking with them."

"Not as friendly as she described it. Them soldiers like to beat people up if we stepped out o'line. Not them, though. Them are friendly, alright. Then, you up and left. Many thought that was strange."

"There are probably lots of folks who left when they're not let in."

Colin shook his head. "People out there hoped they'd be saved, so they stayed, stubborn like me, I guess. You look like the kind of guys who would rather save yourselves, seen some shit, and all if that Hispanic dude were to be believed that you all survived New York. You made a good show of staying, then changing your mind about it. But Nah. You can't be doing that unless there's a reason."

I gritted my teeth. "What of it?"

"He told you another way in?" Colin asked hopefully.

I didn't answer, but he already knew. One look and we knew each other.

"I have a family," he said. "My wife, two daughters—one is five, the other is only two. A lot of good folk behind me. They're good people. We just want to be behind the walls, and then we can...we can part ways! Take different paths, and we'll never see each other again."

"There's only one way out of the Red Zone, and it's to cross the river. Harrisburg only has one bridge left, so I doubt we'd be going our separate ways soon."

"We can work together, then. There's safety in numbers. Look at us. We survived this far. Me and these people behind me? We survived Scranton together. Have you heard what happened there?"

The mall's image surrounded by thousands of vectors, the family rotting on the roof jumped into my mind. But all I could muster was a nod.

"Then you know how that horde dug it over like an anthill. You can't imagine the screams—"

"I can. Imagine your place in mine in New York when the outbreak began."

Colin thinned his lips. "Still, you know what's coming, and you know what they will bring. I'm not gonna let my family be trapped on this side of the river, knowing safety is only a mile away."

I sighed. "I get it. Even if I wanted to, I can't guarantee your passage."

The minivan's doors suddenly slid open, and a petite Asian woman climbed out; a toddler clung around her neck while her hand held onto another girl. She strode toward us with a look of desperation, grief, and horror. Randy tried to stop her, but she swerved out of his way. I reckoned she must be Colin's wife.

Behind, other people climbed out of their vehicles. A middle-aged Asian woman stepped down from the minivan, followed by another Asian woman in her twenties that looked a little older than Colin's wife, and I picked her to be the sister. I probably counted at least a dozen converging around the minivan from the crowd, some hesitating to approach while others went ahead with purpose, the same look of desperation.

"Audrey! Audrey! Stop!" Colin exclaimed. "Just stop right there. I told you I'm handling this."

"He's not going to, Colin. Just look at him!"

This was getting out of hand. "Look, I'm really sorry, but I can't take anyone with us." I tightened my grip around the shotgun.

Audrey glared at me, but before she could get any closer, Colin grabbed her shoulders and held her back. She struggled out of his grip. "Please! I'm not going to ask you to take all of us! Just the children! They...they can hide inside your RV. Put them inside the storage; I don't care. They're small, and they're quiet. I swear they won't make a sound. Just...get them behind the walls. Get them across the river. Please! I can give you an address to a friend of mine and send them there! I can pay!"

The toddler started crying in Audrey's arms, but the other little girl remained still, clearly trying to compose herself, though it was unmistakeable she was scared out of her mind.

Everyone started talking at once, inching closer, begging, reasoning, trying to hold the others back. It was teetering into pandemonium. I didn't realize I had been walking back, getting closer toward the RV, didn't realize that Yousef stood by my side trying to calm the crowd down, but his voice got drowned out by the others. Haskell showed himself up on the roof, shouting at everyone to back off. However, the others on the tree line didn't show themselves yet. I was glad about that. I didn't want to start a shoot-out accidentally.

Still, the crowd pressed on. There must be at least twenty of them! How many had followed us? Where there many Moree to come? Was this it? My heart hammered against my chest, the air suffocating under the sweltering heat. A gentle breeze passed, but it did not alleviate the climbing temperature around me. The crowd's faces blended into a mesh of despair and peril. The little girl began to cry now, the walls she had flimsily built finally breaking into a dam of tears.

I slid the pump back of my shotgun; the resounding echo hushed the crowd, some ducking out of fear. However, I didn't point it at anyone.

The silence returned except for the toddler's loud sniffles and the passing breeze against the trees, rustling the leaves.

"You guys can come out. Lower your weapons," I ordered.

Logan and the others stepped out of the tree line, their weapons lowered, yet their finger still close to the trigger if need be. They never left their sight on the strangers. There was a quenched murmur that rushed through the crowd, fearfully looking at the men that had surrounded them, knowing they were outflanked, trapped in the crossfire. Colin and Randy had forgotten to bring out the rifles with them, and I surmised it must be in the minivan. The others merely had baseball bats, shovels, and axes as their weapons. I didn't see any gun in the crowd, not even the hippie-looking men and women in their twenties or the bunch of frat boys with the University of Scranton jersey jackets and the Delta-Chi-Delta labeled at the back.

A desperate family, some hippie commune of kumbaya and dildos, and a bunch of airhead frat boys? What could go wrong?

If Harrisburg sounded dangerous as Nunes let on, I doubted these folks would survive a run to the bridge, not with two children in tow. A horrible part of me wanted to use them as the bait just in case there were vectors inside the city, kill the kids before they get infected and turned into honchos, and perhaps wounded each one so that they'd lag behind for the vectors to munch on them. I squashed that thought down quick, but the seed had already been planted, and it would never leave. Whether I reaped the fruits or not, time would tell.

I ordered Peter to search the minivan, and he quickly found the two hunting rifles, handing each one to me. The boys herded them against the minivan, with Jun and Miguel watching everyone's move. Peter gave the rifles to me.

I glanced over to Colin, his arms wrapped around his wife and his children, his eyes betraying him, the fear evident. To my horror, he was probably thinking we were the one that was going to steal their stuff and kill them.

I looked around my friends, trying to find someone who would like to take the reins and decide whether to bring them with us. I knew Haskell and Peter wouldn't like it, probably thinking they'd be a drain, but Yousef seemed eager to say yes. Though, he waited for me, not daring to speak up. I couldn't read Jun's face, but he might skew toward Peter and Haskell, wary of taking another group, especially a large one like this, into ours. Logan, Alfie, and Miguel merely waited for my decision, bending wherever the wind blew.

So. Is that it, huh? It's all up to me? Fine.

I took a step toward Colin and handed the rifle. He was confused at first, but he carefully took it off my hands. He passed the other to his brother.

"I suspect you know how to use that thing?" I asked.

Colin nodded. "Our daddy no fool. He has been teaching us to shoot since we were kids. It's all you know if you out here living near the woods and the mountains. There some bears and mountain lions up there. Well, had been teaching us. He died in Scranton...protecting us."

Randy and Colin both shared a grim look, and I guessed there was more to the story than they were letting on. Though, I was in no mood to pry. I took one look at my friends, still waiting for my decision, my reins.

It's all up to me.

I let out a heavy breath. "I am going to be clear to all of you. I can't save all of you if we get into trouble, but I will try my hardest to bring us closer toward that bridge and cross it. From what we have gathered, Harrisburg isn't exactly the Safe Zone we were led to believe. Now, if you try anything that will jeopardize the lives of my people and the lives of the others standing next to you, I will not hesitate to throw you out. If you resist, then I will not hesitate to put a bullet through your head." Even saying that out loud made me a little nauseous. Alphas were different. They were the enemy. But shooting unarmed civilians? Another matter entirely.

I saw people nodding; some held grim expressions while others audibly said yes. Audrey cried, kissing her daughters, though I didn't know if she was sad or happy. Her mother and sister were hugging. Peter and Haskell gave me a dirty look, but I ignored them. We would talk about it later once everyone was out of earshot. Yousef was the only one who was visibly relieved, beaming and thanking his god. If anyone had an issue with my decision, they should've spoken up about it instead of looking like a damn twig.

I continued, "I'll try to convince the people we're meeting to let you all in, but there's a chance they might refuse. I don't think I have the power to change their minds when that happens. You all can come with me. As long as we are in agreement that I will do the talking, I will make the decisions, and that I"—I composed my voice—"I will lead."

If they want me to be the leader...then I will.

I will.