My heart pounded. The doors slid open, and a vector, an obese man that almost filled up the entire frame of the entrance, pushed in. His two-pupil eyes were directed at me, letting out a grotesque snarl. None of the other vectors could get past his towering stature, so he was the only vector who stepped into the lift, and the single vector that posed an immediate threat.

I raised my gun and shot him on the face.

The gunshot echoed inside the elevator's small enclosed space, and without thinking, I put my hands over my head, trying to shake off the painful ringing inside my ears. The others did the same. Luke recovered first. He used the crutches to push the fat vector out of the door, crushing a couple of women standing behind him. Under his weight, the women couldn't move, shrieking and snarling after our blood instead.

There were still vectors coming from behind them.

One vector jumped into the elevator, but Luke didn't give him enough chance to strike as he clubbed the poor fool over the head and kicked him back into the lobby. Peter and Haskell took the opportunity to shoot him on the legs and then fired two more vectors trying to climb over the obese man. I clenched my jaw as my heart kept racing. I joined in the fight.

"Close the door!" Peter yelled over.

Luke pushed the "close door" button on the panel, but every time they slid closer, a vector's arm would be on the way, detected by the motion sensor, and so the doors would part open again.

One woman grabbed hold of Luke's crutches and yanked him out of the elevator.

"Luke!" I screamed. I raised my gun and tried to shoot her. The bullet entered her right side, and the woman's grip on the crutches loosened and

Haskell bounced out of the elevator as Peter suppressed fire. Haskell grabbed Luke by the collar, dragged him back in, kicking and screaming, and then bludgeoned the woman with the crutches. Though, he kept missing the hits. The same infected woman leaped and grabbed hold of Luke's foot, her jaw clenched around his toes, and she was dragged along into the elevator.

Once inside, Haskell took out his knife and stabbed the woman at the nape of the neck. She stopped moving right away.

"I'm bit! I'm bit!" Luke roared.

I grabbed the crutches from Luke's grip and kept pushing the other vectors back while we shot at those on the ground. I didn't care about my hearing any longer, focusing on killing all of them. The bodies continued to pile in front of us.

"They won't close!" I cried out, juggling between clobbering a vector on the face and then pushing the close button again and again.

"Don't worry. It's right about time," Peter said.

"What's about time?"

The elevator suddenly let out a piercing alarm. The doors slowly slid to a close. I realized what Peter meant. If the elevator was blocked for too long, it would attempt to force the door shut.

Peter grabbed the end of the crutches and helped me pushed the vectors further from the entrance, preventing them from triggering the motion sensor. We pulled the crutches back just before the doors snapped shut. Peter broke the small glass panel at the bottom and pulled the EMERGENCY STOP button, rendering the entire elevator out of operation. We could still hear them hammering from the other side, but the doors no longer opened.

On the ground, Luke crawled away from the woman and curled up in the corner. "The bitch bit me!"

"Let me see," I said. I knelt down in front of him.

I reached out to his leg, but Luke pulled them back close to his chest. "No. Don't touch it. I know I'm bit. I don't want you to get infected."

"Let me see, Luke," I said firmly. "Please."

Luke looked at me, lips quivering, scared out of his mind. For a long moment, he thought about it, and then he looked at my gun. I shook my head. I am not going to shoot him right here, even if he asked. I refused.

Luke nodded and extended his leg. I looked at his shoe. There was a hole there where the woman had chewed it. My heart skipped a beat.

Please, God. Please. Not like this. I took off his shoes. Let there be nothing. Let it be nothing.

Blood was everywhere. I pulled off his socks as well and wiped the blood off with my fingers. I quickly realized it was not from him.

His toes were still intact.

I heaved a sigh. "You gotta be kidding me."

"Is it bad?" Luke asked on the verge of tears. I looked up and saw he had closed his eyes.

"Um. No."

He opened his eyes and glanced down. A big smile crept on his face. "Fucking hell." He wiggled his toes. "Ha. Ha!"

Peter and Haskell had a silly grin on their faces as well, although I could tell that they were also relieved.

"I can't believe it. I felt her bite me!" Peter said.

I threw his chewed up shoe to the side. "Thank Adidas."

"I'll make sure to give them a big note."

Luke leaned in and gave me a quick kiss. He then checked all over his legs. No bite. Then, he looked all over his stomach and arms, made me inspect his back—still, no bites.

"You got lucky, lover boy," said Peter, patting Luke on the back.

"But now we're stuck here," Haskell said, panting. He took off his helmet and threw it to the side, wiping his brow. "Great job there, boss. This isn't how I imagine my Wednesday to start."

Peter grumbled. "Middle week slump. It's a curse."

"The only way out is through them now," Haskell said. He checked his rifle and counted how many bullets he had left. He spat a curse after the last count. "Fuck. I'm almost out. We're going to die here, aren't we?"

"Not necessarily," I said. They all turned to look at me, and then I looked up at the rescue hatch above me.

Peter laughed. "With that leg? No. You can't climb up that high."

"I can handle it. As long as I'm careful..."

"No way."

"But what other plan is there? Unless you're going to mow through that horde, you don't have enough bullets to do it."

I snatched the crutches from Luke and used it to push the roof panel loose, revealing the escape hatch. "It's our only play. Frankly, I don't want to go through them again." I took out Betty's magazine. "I have eight bullets left. I counted more than a dozen still outside the lobby."

"Fine. We'll go through the hatch."

Luke climbed the sides and reached up to turn the red lever. The hatch opened outward. The elevator shaft was shrouded in darkness, except for the few LED blue lights mounted sporadically along the walls, like beacons leading to the exit. I could make out the shape of a ladder just near one of the lights. It looked like a long climb, and part of me regretted that I had to scale it, knowing I had to use my upper body more. My upper body strength was shit compared to my lower body.

"I'll go check it out," Luke said, but before we could protest, he was already halfway through the trapdoor, feet flailing (with one shoe missing), propping himself up the railings fixed on the wall.

I was a little jealous when Luke easily lifted up through the hatch without exerting much effort. He peeked through the hole with a frown on his face, although trying hard not to laugh.

Luke reached down to me. "Need a hand? Er, a leg up?"

I rolled my eyes. "Ha. Ha. Fuck you." I handed him the crutches, holding on to the lower half where the crutch pad and the handgrip were, and Luke used it to pull me up.

Haskell and Peter dragged the dead woman to the corner, and then crowded beneath me, helping me off the floor. I felt a hand touched my butt, and I looked down, seeing that Peter had accidentally squeezed it. "Watch it!" I yelped.

"Sorry," Peter mumbled, face turned a deep shade of red. I ignored him as I grabbed the hatch's outer rim, almost slipping as I tried to bend my knees (difficult with one leg wounded), putting as much effort over my back and arms, made sure not to arch my lower back. Luke grabbed my hand and pulled me up into the shaft, my legs flailing when I was high up, and I accidentally kicked Haskell on the face.

"Easy up there!" Haskell roared.

"Sorry!" I yelled back.

"Are you okay?" Luke asked me when I made it to solid ground.

"Yeah. I'm fine." I wasn't fine. I was panting, felt like my arms were bursting out of my sleeves, my muscles burning. This was from one pull-up. I hated doing pull-ups more than anything in life. I tried to avoid them whenever I could, and now I had to do them again and again on the ladder until we reached the top floor. I could only do at least five. I'm gonna have to do ten times that. Peter leaped for the hatch, having the advantage of height and strength, and quickly climbed up to the roof without breaking a fucking sweat. Haskell was the last one out.

I reached out my hand. "Help me up?" Luke took my hand and pulled me up to my feet, and I placed the crutches under my armpit.

Luke gave me a peck on the forehead. "That wasn't so bad."

"Stop making fun of me," I said, chuckling as I limped toward the ladder.

Peter clasped my shoulder. "Nuh-uh. I'll take point. Go back with lover boy over there."

Luke sighed defeatedly. "Stop calling me that."

I clenched my jaw and gave Peter a deathly glare. Peter merely winked at me before he climbed up the ladder. I was third, which took longer than I imagined, a combination of pulling my body all the way up until my uninjured leg could step on the next rung. I forced myself not to look down. At least Luke was patient with me, taking the tail end of our little posse.

On the fourth floor, the shaft door was halfway open, seeping light from the hallway. A bloody, severed arm rested between the gap, the stump still fresh and bleeding. Either someone stupidly tried to get out through the elevator shaft, or someone's arm got stuck on the elevator as they were being pulled apart by vectors. The former seemed likely (we didn't find blood or a body in the elevator below), but whoever the person was, they're either dead or infected. Peter looked down at us and shook his head. Not that one, he gestured, so we continued up to the fifth—top—floor.

We reached the top floor. Peter shimmied on a narrow ledge to the shaft door and pried it open with his knife. I gasped. "I don't think that's a good—" but it was already too late. The blade broke.

"Fuck!" Peter spat. He threw the knife's handle down the shaft, clattering onto the roof of the elevator. I could distinctly hear the growls of the vectors below rising.

"Easy now. Here. Let me help," Haskell said. He swung to the other side of the shaft door; that way, both soldiers now flanked it. "Count of three. One, two, three..."

It took them a few minutes to open the shaft door. I listened to them grunt, pant, and curse their way to oblivion while I focused on not falling off the ladder, trying not to think about having to shimmy my way on a narrow ledge just to get to the door. It's a five-story drop, and I'd hate to damage another part of my body. One bad leg was quite enough.

Eventually, Haskell gave the all-clear, and the two soldiers stepped into the hallway. I had thrown them my crutches first before shimmying across the ledge, almost slipping once or twice, but Luke was behind me, keeping me within arm's reach. "You're okay," he'd tell me, which was reassuring. I managed to reach the door, and I practically jumped into the hallway, my heart hammering against my chest.

Peter grinned. "That wasn't so bad."

"Let me shoot your leg, and then you try doing that."

"Um. Let me think. Nah. No, thank you. I'm good."

"Ass."

Suddenly, a door opened at the end of the hall. Peter and Haskell both dropped to their knees, raised their rifles, and aimed.

"Whoa! Whoa! Not infected! Not infected!" The man screamed, raising both his arms up the air. He looked like in his twenties, short and stocky, wearing rimmed glasses. I saw two other people in their twenties—a man and a woman—peeking from behind, one had a Saints jersey shirt and red nylon shorts, and the latter was a red-head, though it was brightly dyed that almost looked like blood. The first man got a good look at us and frowned. "Uh...you the army?"

Obviously, I thought, rolling my eyes. Both Peter and Haskell were dressed up in the uniform from head to toe.

"Or what's left of it," the red-headed woman said bitterly.

"Yes. We're the army," Peter answered. He still had his rifle aimed at him.

"Are you here to rescue us?"

Peter paused. "No," he said without hesitation. "We're trying to get off the streets."

The man's frown deepened. "Oh. That sucks."

Peter and Haskell eyed the strangers warily before dropping their rifles, deciding that they were not a threat. Peter helped me off the floor, but I still kept one eye on them.

"Hey. How do we access the roof?" I asked them.

The man blinked at me as if he didn't understand the question at first, but the red-headed woman pointed to the opposite hall. "The stairs lead to the roof."

"What are we going to do up there?" Haskell whispered out of ear-shot from the strangers.

"We need to find our bearings, see how far we are from the Med and downtown," I said.

"Fair enough," Peter said. He started walking toward the stairs, but then he saw the ID pad next to the door. He quickly doubled back toward the strangers. "Do one of you live here?" The Saints fan and the eyeglass man both raised their hands. "Great. I'll just need one of your IDs. Don't worry. We'll return it."

——

One mile, give-or-take. That was how far we were from The Med. Give it another mile, and that's how far we were from downtown—two miles worth of infected territory. It might not be much, but it'll take us perhaps half-a-day to cover all that ground infested with vectors if I were optimistic.

Not an easy walk.

"Downtown seems like it's still standing," Haskell said, looking through the binoculars. "I don't see any smoke. Lots of helicopters."

"VIPs being evacuated," Peter said. "Millenium and the CRA must still be transporting a lot of them to the university."

"I could use a helicopter right about now," Luke said beside me. He then looked over the edge and frowned. "They're multiplying."

I followed his gaze.

The streets were in utter chaos. Bodies scattered everywhere. The shutters from numerous shops had been wrenched free, its insides looted. Still, there were people, normal ones, who came in and out of those shops hauling whatever they could take, avoiding the vectors that happened to come close. Vehicles burning, smoke coiling up into the sky, filling the air with rubber and chemicals, coupled with dead flesh. Humans still outnumbered the vectors, but they were increasing in frequency. They chased after the looters who had been detected. Some of the looters sacrificed their own friends for some PS5 and iPhones that nobody was ever going to use a few weeks from now. A humvee passed from the distance, a soldier sitting on the turret, shooting any vector he could see with his mounted machine gun. Unfortunately, we had no way of getting their attention. Lucky for us, they drew the attention of a massive horde, almost emptying the streets below, if you considered two dozen vectors left hanging around as empty.

"Is New York like this?" Peter asked me suddenly.

I froze. "Um. Yeah. Worse than this, though." I still felt tense whenever I see that kind of death and chaos. I didn't think you'd get over something so traumatic, an entire city dying in the blink of an eye.

"Worse than this? How?" Peter raised his eyebrows, not believing what I said, thinking maybe he misheard me.

I nodded. "We have no military to evacuate us in time. Everyone was left to fend for themselves. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and no way of learning what we're dealing with. Here, everyone knows that they should avoid contact with the vectors at all costs, avoid being bitten, stay indoors, stay out of the vector's bodily fluids. Never ever let them see you. Back in New York, we didn't know how the infection was spread until it was too late."

"Why do you call them that?"

"Call them what?"

"Vectors."

"Oh. Well. In epidemiology, a vector carries and transmits the infectious pathogen. I thought it seems fitting for the infected people, grouping all of them at once."

"We call them anomalies," Haskell interjected.

"I like yours better," Peter said.

"Er, thanks?"

"So. Vectors it is. What do you know about them?"

"Ah. I remember you guys have never encountered them before."

"No, not up-close. We saw the horde marching from afar, but that's it. We just report where their locations were, and the Pied Piper teams will try to lead them away from Albany."

"I kind of wish we never do," Haskell said.

"Hm. Too late for that now. Are these...things...always this ferocious?"

I nodded. "Always. Though, we got to watch out for vector children."

"Why is that?"

"They're smart. They can control adult vectors and organize attacks. We've seen it many times across New York, and we encountered one in a school, climbed up the walls like it was nothing, like out of an exorcist movie. I call them honchos."

"We've never heard of infected children do that before."

"Have you met one?"

Peter paused. "No. We weren't briefed about them."

"Maybe the scientists haven't encountered them yet, or during a vector attack, they don't leave much of the children."

"That's a horrifying, disgusting thought." Luke frowned.

"I agree. But we have to warn them. There are many children inside these walls, and if one of them gets infected and survives, they'll turn, and they will take control of this massive horde."

"Are you telling us to shoot children?" Haskell glared at me.

"Infected children. I know what you're feeling. I experienced the same thing. I didn't say defeating them will be easy, but if we don't stop them, they can simply walk over the university and kill everybody."

We were quiet for a while, observing the horizon. We heard a scream or two from below, but it was awfully cut short a second later. We didn't have to imagine what had happened.

Haskell cut off the silence. "Since the streets are off the equation, we could try leaping off the roof to the next building."

The four of us looked over to the building on our right since it was the closest structure to the apartment. It's a three-story drop to its roof.

"Uh...that's a long jump," Luke said.

"Sorry," Haskell said. "I'm brainstorming here."

I turned away from the sight on the streets. That was enough death and destruction for me to handle. I limped toward a lounger not far from me, and Luke followed. The apartment building's roof was not what I expected. It was a full-fledge facility with a rooftop pool deep enough to swim laps in. A fire pit made out of granite and surrounded by expensive-looking furniture. It had half a basketball court and a netted badminton court. And there's a corner for its tenants to cook BBQ next to a small zen garden with its own bonsai tree. I didn't dare ask the price for a room here.

We weren't alone on the rooftop. About twenty or so tenants scattered around, some huddled in their own little groups, others were frantically calling their friends and loved ones trapped across the city, while a few were frozen, shocked, and clearly in disbelief. One of the groups was the three tenants we met