BREN

As the others gathered everyone to the second floor, I ran back up the stairs to the bridal room, using the master key to open the door. I didn't try to be quiet as I stormed toward the bathroom, but I didn't hear Deon's or Noodle's grunts and panting anymore. They must be done. That was quick, I thought. No matter. We have more pressing issues to deal with.

I knocked once and opened the door. Deon already had his underwear up to his knees while Noodle barely had time to put his shirt on; a look of surprise and horror crossed their faces, and Noodle's face turned beet red with shame.

"We have a problem—" I started.

But Deon interrupted me. "It's not what it looks like!"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, get over yourself. I'm not a child." I picked up Deon's jeans and threw them at him. He caught it mid-air. "Get dressed. Soldiers are coming, and everyone's going up here to hide. You two better be decent."

Noddle and Deon both shared a concerned look.

I sighed. "I'm not gonna tell anyone if that's what you two are concerned about. I'm gay, too."

"Wait. You are?" Noodle asked.

"I'm not gay," Deon muttered under his breath, but I heard him.

I shook my head. I have no time for this. "Doesn't matter. Listen. Just get ready and be armed. I want to be quiet. They're gonna reach the door any minute now."

I walked out of the room just as Alfie came up the stairs with Edgar, Marie, Nico, Gus, and Monica. Indy followed close behind.

Gus reached me first. "Bren! I can't find Riki! I can't find my ferret! I think he's still down there—"

Crap. "I don't think we have time to look for him, Gus."

"But—!" Gus almost teared up, trying to find words to argue with, but Monica, Alfie, and Marie dragged him into the bridal room, sparing me some time.

I turned to Edgar. "Where's Paloma?"

"She went out to the courtyard to warn Aria and Holly," Edgar answered. "She'll be here any minute."

I doubt we have a minute. "Okay. Just get inside the room," I said, and Edgar nodded.

I strode toward the stairwell and found Jun, Haskell, Barry, and Russell just coming up while Logan and Peter forced Yousef up the first steps. I helped Jun carry Haskell into the room and came back out to find that Logan and Peter were still having trouble dragging Yousef higher up the stairs.

"Quick! We need to lock the gate!" Peter hissed.

"No! We can't! Aria is still out there!" Yousef said. "Let me go!"

"Can't you hear? They're already knocking on the door," Logan tried to reason with him, but Yousef wouldn't budge.

I heard the soldiers, too, muffled from the second floor, but each thump of their fists against the door reverberated across the vaulted ceiling and the spacious worship hall. Luckily, we locked the front doors on our way in.

Suddenly, it stopped.

They must be looking for another way in.

"Hurry up!" I whispered from the top of the stairs.

Both Logan and Peter glared at me.

"Ah, screw this!" Peter exclaimed.

Peter let go of Yousef, and when the boy was about to make a run for it, Peter pulled out his pistol and clubbed him over the head. Yousef went limp, but luckily, Logan caught him before he hit the ground.

Logan glared at Peter, and with his free hand, he shoved him on the shoulder. "What the hell, man? Are you fucking nuts?"

Peter shrugged. "It shut him up, didn't it? Grab the leg. I'll carry the head."

The two boys carried Yousef up to the second floor. I shot Peter an irritated look and went down to close the gates, locking it from my side. I heard the distinct breaking of glass from one of the classrooms. No doubt, the soldiers had decided to climb through one of the reachable windows from the parking lot. From then, I slowly and quietly closed the second door—the wooden one—behind the gate, making sure to lock that one too by pushing the button on the doorknob. It wouldn't hinder them at all from opening it since they could easily just break the doorknob loose. Oh, well. I can't complain about that now. At least we had the gate.

"Left side clear." A voice whispered outside the hallway, could make out the clink and clicks of a rifle being swung around.

Lights flooded and swayed from the gaps beneath the door. I took a step back, made sure they wouldn't see my shadow.

Feeling like someone was watching my back, I whirled around and looked up the stairs where Logan stood and shushed him, waving at him to get away. He nodded and went over to the bridal room to quiet the others, too. I pulled out Betty from my holster and turned the safety off.

Oh, please. Don't you dare open this door. Please, please, please...just check somewhere else. Anywhere. Too late to climb the stairs, else they'd hear my footsteps. I had to stay rooted to my spot, making sure not to make a squeak.

Then, I was reminded that Paloma, Aria, and Holly were still out there. If they heard the windows breaking and the soldiers entering the premises, I hoped they found a spot to hide quickly.

"Right side clear." Another voice, a different one from the other, called out.

"Check that door over there." The first voice said.

I heard the rattling of a door adjacent to the stairwell—the janitor's closet. The soldier closed it. "Clear."

"Isaacs. Stairwell." The first voice ordered again.

Please, please, please...I raised my gun and aimed it at the door. If they ever opened it, I still had the advantage of the first shot. It didn't matter if they were fast. They'd still be dead. Well, at least I get to take out one of them.

There were twenty steps to the second floor. If I skipped every other one, that would be ten steps, so at least ten seconds to reach the top if and when they started shooting at me after I fired my weapon. And how long will they take to break the gate open? We had the higher ground, that's a plus, and that was enough to hamper their chances of taking the second floor for a little while. It would still be a brutal fight, nonetheless.

The doorknob moved from left to right, then a firm tug.

I held my breath. Shit, shit, shit, shit...

The soldier let go. "It's locked," Isaacs said.

"Ah. We'll check that out later. Let's clear the ground floor first."

Lights from beneath the door faded and went further away. I heaved a sigh, surprised that sweat trickled down from my forehead and down to my chin.

That was close.

——

Day 94: July 11th, Sunday

Midnight struck, and I'm doing nothing but sit on my ass.

It's been four hours of silence, each of our footsteps deliberate and vigilant as we traversed across the second floor, looking at the wooden floorboards like it's molten lava, afraid that any sound we made would surely be the end of us all. But it hadn't happened.

Yet.

At least Paloma, Aria, and Holly were safe. The soldiers hadn't found them yet, and I didn't see them on the courtyard or around Lauren's grave. Hopefully, they hid in the RV, which was nearby, and I hoped they're smart enough to drive away so that these soldiers wouldn't find our rig, perhaps hide it somewhere safe nearby and rescue us? Wishful thinking.

Then, I realized Haskell got the keys to the RV, so they didn't have a way inside.

Shit. I wished I could throw them a life vest right now and saved them, but I couldn't do anything from up here.

The soldiers made camp inside the worship hall, and so far, they hadn't figured out there used to be people preparing for sleep in the same space. The room carried their echoes like they were giant speakers, and we could make out their voices through the walls and from the floor if we pressed our ears against the surface. When their voices grew louder, we realized it was when a patrol was coming by (which they did once every hour), and we made sure to stay quiet when they passed below us.

Then, I found the project room.

I guessed I was a little lucky I got bored and irritated for being scared and agitated throughout those four hours. I had no choice but to force myself to explore the second floor, making sure there weren't any corners we missed that the soldiers could easily exploit, perhaps a way up. I was annoyed that the windows in the conference room were fixed windows, so there was no way to open them. There was a decent drainage pipe running at the side of the building that we could have used to go down to the courtyard, but the stupid windows wouldn't open. Breaking it was not an option.

So, the projection room was all I got.

The room was situated on top of the balcony; probably the pastor used it to show some slide shows, movies, or whatever churches did nowadays to entertain and retain their flock. Still, it was a perfect vantage point from every corner of the worship hall. Once I found it, I stayed there since then, watching diligently at every soldier's move, their mannerisms, listening to their chatter, or how they acted around each other, gouging for any weaknesses that I could exploit.

Oh, God, please let them be idiots. It would make my night so much easier. But judging from their stern and scarred faces, especially Captain Drucker, they'd seen action, and I doubt I could put a dent through their defenses once we went toe-to-toe. The soldiers I had fought from the outpost were green, around my age, and barely held a rifle in their hand or were just fresh out from basic training. These soldiers—all seven of them—were older, early to late twenties, had probably toured abroad, perhaps in Afghanistan. That made me nervous.

I felt a shift on the floorboards, and I turned around to find Logan creeping toward me.

Logan frowned, mouthing, "Sorry."

I waved for him to move closer, and he stood next to me. "What's going on? Anything new?" Logan whispered.

"The same," I said.

Thunder reverberated from outside the walls, making my skin crawl. Jun was right. It had been a light rain for the past few hours now, and as he predicted, and judging from the heavy patter on the rooftop, it had become a deluge. At least the rain muffled some of our footsteps, but not much.

Logan peered through the narrow window overlooking the hall, down to the rows of pews that the soldiers had dragged to the side to make room for their sleeping bags.

"Miguel looks okay," Logan said. "I don't see any wounds or that he got roughed up. It looks like they're taking good care of him."

I looked over to where Miguel was. He sat against the wall, eating a granola bar while Diana had her head on his lap, sleeping soundly. I guessed I gotta thank that little girl's backpack for warning me about Captain Drucker. It's a terrible irony that we ran into each other after I just killed almost his entire platoon yesterday.

What would he do if he found out?

I wondered what Aria and Holly must be feeling right now, knowing that the man who had tormented them during their stay in the outpost was just breathing down their necks.

It didn't seem like Miguel told him the whole story, and neither did the others.

Next to him, Bernadette was busy handing Charlene peanuts, breaking the shells with her fingers, bugging her to eat them, but Charlene scrunched her nose and kept pushing Bernadette's hand away, shaking her head. I noticed that Charlene kept her eyes focused on the soldiers not far away from them, watching their every move, making sure it wasn't obvious to stir up trouble. Audrey was sleeping with Wanda in her arms on the next cot, eyes red from crying, though it had dried already. With Colin's death, it was kind mercy she could sleep for her daughters' sake. Those children had seen enough to last a lifetime.

And then there was Captain Drucker.

He sat on the front pews with his legs propped on a coffee table he had dragged from one of the offices, reading some book. It was too far away from me to read what kind. It unnerved me that he looked somewhat at peace, unbothered by the thunder, or that he was in the middle of a war zone and that vectors could pop out at any moment. Was he even bothered that the Alphas could just as easily find this church and decide to take refuge as they did? What about a horde? But none of that was evident through his facade. And it was working. His men seemed to relax.

Perhaps I could use that.

A soldier with a dark complexion with a bandaged shoulder walked from the adjacent building and approached him. "There's a gate on the stairwell, and I still can't find the keys," he reported. "None of the offices or the classrooms has it."

"Did you look in the pastor's office?" Captain Drucker asked. His voice was silky and smooth, surprised that it could come out from such a tough-looking son of a bitch, a scar going down from his cheek and lip, and a steely gaze that could hold a man immobile for a split second. He did not look up from his book.

"Yes. It must be upstairs?"

"Are you sure?"

The other soldier tensed. "I've looked enough."

"Then, look harder."

And that was the end of the conversation. Even I felt that sting. The soldier let out a small sigh and walked back to the adjacent building to look for the keys that now dangled around my neck.

A soldier with short bleach-blonde hair, broad shoulders, and a stubby nose approached Drucker once the other left. Sgt. Sam Murray. I remembered his name mentioned around by the other soldiers.

"Can't we give Walters and Isaacs a break, cap? They've been looking for those keys for four hours now," Murray said.

"We still need to check out what we can from upstairs, maybe use one of the rooms as a lookout. I had Taggart and Olson board up the window we broke into, which was the only one that faced the parking lot. We're blind here as it is. And who knows? There might be infected up there we need to take care of."

"Based on how much noise we're making here, I didn't hear anything up there. Not even a creak. I doubt there's anyone up there."

A pause. "I'd still like to cover our bases, Murray."

"We're gonna have to turn this place over to find those keys."

"Then, we'll do that."

"You need some sleep."

Drucker chuckled. "Thanks for your concern, but it'll come to me. I'm not tired yet."

"It has a way of sneaking up on you. Don't tire yourself out, cap."

"I won't." Then, Drucker dropped the book. "I wished we could have gone north."

Murray scoffed. "Alpha territory now. And infested. Have you seen that horde coming from the TV? They're repeating that dozens of times now. It makes my skin crawl. They're getting near the city limit. By tomorrow, they'll be all over Harrisburg."

Logan and I held a grim look. I didn't realize the horde they had been warning everyone on TV was this close to Harrisburg. It made me itch to reach downtown fast.

"Do you think they're all dead?" Drucker asked.

I froze.

They must be talking about the outpost. I felt Logan stiffened next to me.

"We've seen the drone footage from HQ and heard their last broadcast. They're gone."

"I really wish I could find those sons of bitches that did that to them and serve them what they deserve. All this running...all this fighting...I wish we could bring back a few of our boys home."

"You and me both."

"This war... it's beginning to eat us from the inside, man. Don't matter how you look at it; this campaign will take a limb out of us if we're not careful."

"Happy Reclamation Day. May God bless America."

"Ironic, we're in a church on a Sunday."

"Then let's pray to kick these assholes out and get rid of those freaks."

"Amen."

They were silent for a while. Drucker returned to his book while Murray looked up to the cross dangling from above the altar. I didn't dare make a move from where I'm standing, watching them like a hawk. I wondered if they could feel my stare.

"Hey, man. Can I ask you a question?" Murray asked.

"Hm. Go for it."

Murray scratched under his chin, clearly hesitating to say what was on his mind. "What if...you know...we just take off?"

Drucker looked up from his book and studied Murray's face. He glanced at the other three soldiers huddled closer to the entrance, talking animatedly about some movie they last saw before the pandemic began. When he knew they wouldn't hear them, Drucker turned back to Murray.

"What makes you say that?"

"We've seen what's out here, Chris. Most of our boys are still waiting from the other side of the river, pumped up with adrenaline to kick some ass this morning, but we've been here since the beginning. We've seen what those monsters—those infected—could do. Those Alphas... they're organized for a militia, and they're kicking our asses right now. It makes me wonder if they had help from inside our government. It's gonna be a long battle once the fighting starts and this campaign gets going, and I reckon we can slip out, take them back, and cross the bridge."

Drucker remained quiet.

Murray thought it was best to keep going. "Look. If the tide changes in our favor, we can join them, you know? Help them out. The way I see it, we've been busting our asses for two months out on the front lines with nothing but a shout-out from the top brass. They don't know what the fuck they're doing with their planning. Have you seen what they set up for each company? Where do they put them? It's gonna be a slaughter."

"That's called running away," Drucker said, his voice low.

"I don't see it that way. You know I have a wife and twin boys down in Cincinnati. My kids just turned two weeks ago, and I hadn't seen them for a long while since we got pulled out from Kabul. It'd be nice to make sure they're okay."

"But they are. Cincinnati is being turned into a Safe Zone, Sam. It's been like that for the past three months."

"And I'd like to be there for them. If you have kids, Chris..."

"Don't. Don't be like that."

"But if you see—"

"I don't want to talk about this. And keep that out of your mouth once we are in downtown. Once someone hears you spouting that kind of shit, I won't be able to help you. As a friend, stop it."

"Chris..."

"I don't want to hear it!"

The other three soldiers looked up from where they sat. It seemed they had heard the tail end, had gone quiet to listen to the two better. Drucker gave them a deathly glare, and the three turned back to resume their conversation. Miguel, Charlene, and Bernadette watched them closely, the latter continuing to eat her peanuts, but Drucker didn't care that they were eavesdropping.

"Alright. Sorry I said anything," Murray said, shoulders slumped.

"Good. Don't bring it up again."

Murray got up and went over to his cot, evident that it still bothered him while Drucker stared at his back. The captain went back to his book.

Logan leaned close to my ear. "It got a little tense there."

"It's been like that for a few hours," I said.

Logan raised his brow. "You caught something?"

I nodded. "Here and there."

I told him about Sgt. Sam Murray and how he's the right-hand man of Captain Drucker. All the soldiers looked up to him, and though he wasn't old than the rest, the respect was