BREN

By the time we arrived, the museum was empty.

We had been in the museum for an hour now. I was disappointed to find that Miguel and the others had not been here yet, so I ordered the others to stay inside for three hours, as we've discussed, and waited for them after we've cleared out the building. There were no signs of vectors. With Cora back in our hands, the others would be on foot, and it might take them a long time to get to the museum, depending on what route they took.

Then again, they should be here already. They had a better head start than the rest of us, I thought. I imagined all sorts of things that could go wrong, and none of it pleased my stomach.

Still, I kept my eyes on the courtyard in front of the building, hoping they would show up. I dragged a chair to the second-floor windows overlooking the entrance, just above the foyer. I had asked Peter and Haskell to park the vehicles at the back instead of the front to avoid unwanted attention (and our escape route if other survivors decided to attack the building). I kept reminding myself to be ahead of these things, expect the unexpected, or always had five different plans for the same goal. Frankly, I was starting to crash from the weight of it.

I dragged a chair from the cafe, put it by the window, sat down, and kept telling my mind to relax. But how could I with everything that's going on? It was a lose-lose situation. I tried not to let my thoughts wander off to Logan.

He's a bag I was not willing to open for now.

"Everyone, stay close to the foyer," Edgar barked from below. "This building is huge, and we don't know what else could be lurking around the corner."

"Better to be safe than sorry," Paloma added.

"Aw, Pal, but I've never been here before!" Monica flicked a brochure she found from one of the gift shop racks. "There are so many exhibits about the Battle of Gettysburg, the battle that clinched the defeat of the south!" Monica laughed, reading from the front page.

"Come now, Monica..."

Monica kept laughing and threw the brochure to the side. "Pssh, easy, girl! I'm just fucking with you. You know I hate museums."

Not far from them, I saw Deon knelt in front of Nash, who pulled his knees close to his chest, giving him the bad news of Darren's death. They were pledges together (based on what I pieced from the brief conversations I had with Deon), and they were pretty close friends. The only comfort I could give him was that Darren died quickly, though Deon and Noodle didn't tell him that the sniper let Darren bleed out first before the finishing shot. The devil was always in the details.

I caught sight of Peter stalking around the perimeter, making sure no one had followed us. He'd be out there for a while before he would report back to me; I didn't spot anything out of the ordinary.

Footsteps to my right, light and cautious, but it was there, echoes from the soles squeaking against the marbled floor. I swiftly turned around, and Jun froze mid-stride like a deer on headlights.

I couldn't help but grin. It was the first time I actually caught the little fucker sneaking up behind me. But then he could just be comfortable enough not to be given we were behind safe walls. Nevertheless, Jun never let his expression falter that he just lost in this silent, one-sided game of ours.

"Any news?" I asked, turning back around to face the window.

"The building is clear. But I saw some signs that the military had used it at one point, but other than that, nothing. It didn't even look like the vectors had been in the area yet," said Jun.

"That's what I think, too."

A distant thump of a helicopter passing by reverberated through the windows, but it slowly dissipated. Glad there are still people out there, even though some of them can be assholes. I wondered how many people we would encounter once we got closer to downtown, especially the army.

And how about the Alphas? How close are they to the military? And are they winning?

"It's a little strange," Jun started, "that his building was unused."

"Hm. Maybe the majority of the residents have been evacuated toward the river more than we realized," I said. "I assumed that's where we're going to see a lot of the infected than the ones we've encountered, which, to be honest, are mostly trapped in buildings or other enclosed areas. We haven't seen the ones roaming around on the streets on their own."

"Then those children got infected."

I sighed. "We've only seen two kids who got infected, but I saw a bunch of other kids there with their parents. Who knows how many that thing infected already? I doubt we can stay here longer just for those things to catch up to us, but we have to make sure Miguel isn't lagging."

"We haven't encountered an army of honchos before."

"That's what I was afraid of."

"Miguel and the others might be heading for the church already."

"We planned to wait in the cemetery for one hour, the museum for three hours, and then the church for six before we head into downtown together the next day. If they ever made it here, they should be within their first hour before we arrived. But they're not."

"So, we are going to stay?"

I paused. Even though I wanted to move forward to the church, it's not fair to leave Miguel behind. I nodded to Jun. "If anything changes then, or if I see something I don't like, then we leave. No matter how safe this building is, it's gonna get ripped to shreds if a horde or a group of marauders decide to take it."

"I'll keep watch, then."

"Thank you, Jun. You've been a great help." I got up from my seat. "I'm going to go check on Haskell."

I left Jun on the second floor and went down the stairs to the foyer. As I passed, I caught some quick, strange looks from Russell and Barry, but they avoided me when I got near them. I could already tell they were nervous about having an infected man in our group, but I would not let them kill Haskell like an animal, not when he's still breathing and conscious. I doubted they would even go near him when Peter would rip their heads off if they as so much look at Haskell's direction with malice.

I made sure to stare at Russell a second longer, still pissed at what he did on the checkpoint, running over those people like they were trash. If I had the energy, I would walk up to him and introduce him to both of my fists, but I gotta save those for the vectors and the other human pieces of scum. Perhaps if we both survived Harrisburg, I'd give him a piece of my mind.

I walked into the cafe. Haskell lay on a corner table, on top of a blanket and a sleeping bag. Aria and Yousef were busy cleaning his wounds, and it was clear he was annoyed that they were treating him like a baby, wincing every time Aria dabbed water, then iodine before bandaging his hand.

Indy raised his head from under the table, tail suddenly wagging as if I was there to give him food. I shook my head in his direction, signaling it's not time for dinner yet, and he made a little whine before he dropped his head again, seemingly content just to go back to sleep. I envied dogs and their never-ending supply to find awkward places to sleep, and I wished I could have Indy's ability to sleep for sixteen hours.

Haskell reeled back his hand from Aria. "I said I'm fine, woman. Can't you see?"

Aria huffed and put his hands on her hips. "I gotta make sure it remains clean after all that ruckus. We need to replace the bandages every four hours before—" She quickly caught herself, eyes bulging as if she had stepped on a landmine.

Haskell raised his eyebrow. "Before what?"

Aria and Yousef both shared a grim look, but they held their tongue, shifting where they stood.

Haskell tried to get up, even though Aria protested for him not to. "I know that my time's ticking. I don't really know what I should be feeling. Those flyers mentioned I'll get a high fever, headaches, chills, and vomiting, but I don't have those either."

"Not yet," Yousef corrected.

"I know how the infection progresses, Yousef. I've seen it on your friend if you didn't remember."

"Hey! You're out of line," Aria said.

"It's okay, Aria," Yousef said. "I...yes, I know, Haskell. Sorry."

"Good. Then, as long as I'm breathing, I made a promise to get you all across downtown. Better than hunkering down like some coward and wait to die. I am not going to go out like that. And besides, you need all the guns you can get, and I know guns. If any of those idiots even want to try and handcuff me, I'd put up a fight they're gonna remember. I'd rather die fighting."

"Big talk for a show-off. You're no use to me when you're bleeding all over the place," I said.

Aria and Yousef jumped, not realizing I was there in the room. Haskell merely looked up, glaring at me. But then, a huge smile crept on his face.

"Heh. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Let Aria clean your wound, man. Margot taught her better than the rest of us, you know," I said.

Aria smirked. "And I've had experiences treating those soldiers back in the outpost every time they accidentally cut themselves for being assholes to each other. Come on now, big boy. Back to your seat." She patted the sleeping bag on the table.

Haskell sighed and sat back on the table. Aria continued to bandage his hand. I caught a glimpse of his wound, the flesh a little redder around the open gash, at least three centimeters wide, and I could barely tell if a human did it, except for the three dented teeth marks on his skin. It didn't look quite infected yet, not like Luke's, and it didn't start to smell yet.

Once I can smell the wound from across the room, I'd have to put Haskell down, I thought glumly. But not yet.

"I better not feel like it's there."

"Hey, I'm human. Not God," Aria said, chuckling, continuing to wrap the bandage around his hand.

"Hmm. Then, I guess—Ow!"

"Sorry! Shit. That's, er, the last time I'll do that."

"Bah! Just do it, and let's be done with this crap."

Yousef gave him a bottle of water and a couple of pills. "Here's some antibiotics and ibuprofen, just to reduce the inflammation," he said.

Haskell rolled his eyes and took them both, popping them in his mouth, and then drank the water. Thankfully, he did it without complaining.

I decided to help out as well, gently grabbing his other free hand and put my finger over his wrist, measuring his pulse. His heart rate rested at around seventy beats per minute. I asked Yousef to grab the blood pressure cuffs from the first aid box in the RV, returning a couple of minutes later.

"130/73. You have elevated blood pressure, but I think that's your body fighting the infection."

"Maybe I'm just too nervous with all of you poking and prodding me around like some lab rat," Haskell chuckled.

"I don't think so. Your heart rate is normal. Can't be that."

"Bren, no offense, but your bedside manners suck ass. Way worse than Pete."

I stifled my laughter. "Don't get used to it. Tell me. How are you feeling?"

"I mean, my hand's throbbing a little, a few muscle spasms under my thumb," Haskell said, raising his wounded hand. "but sometimes I don't feel it. Sure, it stings—what open wound doesn't—and I don't think I could ever forget it when it's right there on my face, you know? I don't feel like I have a fever or those reports that people had a cold, or shortness of breath, or flu-like symptoms, but I'm not looking forward to it if it ever comes to that."

"Just let me know when you're feeling one of the symptoms so we can give you some medicine to fight it off."

"Thanks, Bren. But I doubt popping a dozen pills or so are going to stop what's happening. Anyway, at least I get to go out in a blaze of glory. Downtown's gonna be a fun ride, huh?"

"It most certainly will be interesting."

"Ah, where's your spirit for adventure? We've gone from Albany to here with a lot of stories that can fill up a table. This,"—he pointed at his hand—"is just one of many."

I admired how Haskell tried to be upbeat and cheery, paying the bite with no heed, pretending like he got a paper cut. But I couldn't imagine what he must be feeling inside, that storm swirling in his mind when you knew you only had a day left to live. A hollowed pit formed in my chest when I looked at Haskell, knowing that by tomorrow morning, most of him would be gone, just a husk of his former self, succumbing to a disease that had taken over the world. But sooner or later, Haskell would break.

The ceiling lights suddenly flickered to life. Alfie and Gus found the generator.

Aria heaved a sigh. "Finally." She walked over behind the counter and turned on the faucet, waiting for a few seconds before I heard pipes rumbling, followed by a stream of water gushing onto the metallic basin. "We've got water. And...yes! It's clean, too."

Yousef rubbed his hands together and went behind the counter, starting one of the machines. "Alright, guys, who want some coffee? Espresso, anyone? A macchiato? Caramel Mocha? I can make it better than Starbucks could."

"You know how to make one?" I asked.

"Of course! I worked as a barista for nine months before graduating high school to make some money before I went to college. Sure, I'm a little rusty since it's been a year then, but I'm sure I can pick it back up."

"Alright, alright. Coffee does sound nice. I'll have a cup of mocha."

"And I'll have drip coffee, please," said Haskell.

"You can't have coffee, Haskell. You just took antibiotics."

"Ah, I'll be fine."

"No. Maybe wait an hour?"

Haskell sighed. "Do I have a choice?"

"No. Anyway, Sef, I'll help you prepare these things. Whatcha need?"

Yousef smiled. "You're the best. Grab me some milk. I think it's down over there."

Aria opened the small refrigerator behind the counter, but she screamed, quickly closing the door. "Yuck! Do not, in your life, open this fucking door!"

A split second later, A rotten aroma invaded my nostrils, and I almost gagged from the stench emanating from behind the counter. Yousef recoiled and covered his nose with his sleeves. Haskell made a throaty grunt and yelp and wrapped both his nose and mouth with his hand.

"What in the world is that?" I shouted.

"Rotten milk and other stuff from hell," Aria answered. "It seems the refrigerator hasn't been on in a while. Sorry. We can't have milk."

Yousef frowned. "Dang it. I was looking forward to making really complicated drinks to impress you guys."

"Aw, that's alright, Yousef. Just make us some black coffee then we can pass around those sugar packets. Coffee is coffee."

Yousef gave me a thumbs up. "Alright, boss."

Yousef opened a bag of fresh coffee beans, and the aroma quickly filled the room. I missed that smell of going into a coffee shop with a new brew of coffee roasting just a few feet away. Miguel's brew from the RV's small kitchen couldn't compare. It took me back to the normal days, and I imagined this cafe to be filled with people, busily chatting amongst themselves, some with laptops, others eating croissants and other baked goodies. The smell went out into the foyer, and the others followed it.

Lauren and Holly were the first to enter, smiles on their faces. I watched as they chatted with Yousef and asked him if he could explain the difference between distinct brands of roasts by the counter. Even Paloma, Monica, and Edgar were in good spirits, watching the espresso dripped out of the portafilter and landed on these cute little pink espresso cups.

Aria managed to find some pop tarts, candy, and granola bars from the back pantry and handed them out to everyone. There were even boxes of waffle mixes with blueberry and cinnamon flavors. On her other hand was a box of cinnamon and apple-flavored oatmeals and packets of dried raisins, banana chips, and mangoes.

Aria wasted no time turning on the Belgian waffle maker until it was hot.

Aria asked, "So, who wants the first plate?"

Everyone, including me, raised their hands.

——

I missed Logan in the cafe. Not that I was paying attention, nor that Logan loved coffee, so the smell should have brought him here in an instant, but I'm not going to seek him out. Nico, Marie, Jun, Peter, Gus, Alfie, Deon, and Noddle weren't here, anyway, so he could be with any of them.

I took a few more bites of my waffle and then a sip of coffee, the caffeine just hitting me at the right spot where I actually felt at peace, letting out a satisfying little moan when I gulped down a big piece of the waffle. After everything that had happened today, this wasn't so bad after the people we had lost. Seriously, it was a good distraction.

I still didn't catch Logan in the cafe. Where the fuck is that idiot, anyway? What could be so important that he would miss a coffee and a plate of waffles? Dumbass. I took some deep breathes, made sure the mere thought of him wouldn't give me hypertension, and calm my nerves.

Still, I am not going to seek him out. I stopped myself. I'm not going to that. Not even when I was still annoyed at him for not giving me a straight answer when I asked him if he liked me. It was a fucking simple question—a yes or a no answer—and that idiot couldn't even say either.

Perhaps that "almost" kiss was enough to make a conclusion? I didn't like to be thinking about these things when we're in the middle of a war zone.

But I couldn't help my mouth.

Regretting it already, I approached Paloma and asked, "Hey, have you seen Logan?"

Paloma shook her head. "No, but last time I talked to him, he said something about looking around the building to make sure it's safe. He went with Alfie and Gus, but they could be anywhere."

"Oh."

"Do you want me to tell him something? In case I see him, that is."

"N-no. Um, just tell him I need to speak to him when he's able."

Paloma smiled. "Will do."

So, sue me. I'm human. But I will not go out there, fumbling in the dark and into the creepy exhibits to seek a guy out. Never. I'm not that desperate. He needed to come to me and be clear about it and that he was willing to give me concrete answers than just fumbling in a cryptic stutter.

What else could he have ever told you than he already did? I wondered. Did he like me or not?

As much as I tried to deny it, the answer made me shiver in a way that I couldn't explain. Thrilled? Anxious? Scared? Troubled? Maybe all of the above?

And do I like him back?

Before I could even entertain that preposterous idea, I caught a whiff of copper and blood, and I realized it came from my clothes. From me. I froze and went pale, embarrassed that I shared the same space as the sweet aroma of coffee and waffles when I'm this dirty and in front of everyone eating around me. Seriously, it didn't feel right. That fight with the vector soaked my shirt, and I realized I needed a change of clothes. Aria did mention that the building has clean water.

"I'll be right back. Keep the coffee and the waffles warm for me."