The mall was on fire.

We looked down from the roof's edge, reminded that we were surrounded by hundreds of vectors tearing through the parking lots and the plaza, and now began to spill into the concourse; all were heading eastward. I realized we were in the race for our lives. If the vectors got to the Alphas' transport bay early, we're screwed.

"Fuck me. We just rang the dinner bell!" Haskell shouted, pointing to the billows of smoke and fire that bled the dark skies in a red-orange hue. He then gestured northward, up to the tree line bordering the adjacent highway, and there, coming out of the trees, dozens of vectors stumbled out of the dark forest, pouring into the highway like a wave cresting over the shore. I didn't have to imagine where they're all heading.

Yay fucking ki-yay.

"Haskell's right. That's a whole lot of them! Oh, we're so totally fucked," Logan mumbled.

"Thanks, Logan. I have eyes too, you know," I said.

"Eh. I just want to spell it out. Five bucks say one of them will bite me."

"Ten bucks if none of them don't."

"Deal. Money ain't worth shit now anyway."

"That's the spirit, Logan Hardy. Now, run faster."

"I'll show you speed, amigo."

I dashed toward Miguel, who hobbled slower behind Haskell and Yousef, the latter helping Haskell stay up on his feet. Logan left us in his wake. I moved next to Miguel, put his arm around my shoulder, not caring that I'm practically dragging him now, and ignored his huffed protests.

"I can do it, Bren," Miguel said, still struggling to keep pace with the others. We were now lagging behind. Logan was on the lead.

"No, I got you, man. You can barely walk." Miguel groaned, but he decided not to say anything further.

"Watts!" Logan screamed. "Look at here! We have a problem!"

My heart sank. In front of us lay a thirty-foot-wide gap between the buildings and with no chance of jumping across it. Fortunately, the roof we were on and the other was connected only by a giant mounted sign, plastering the name: CASCADIA TOWN CENTER. It was made of steel with a ten-inch wide beam behind the mammoth letters, brightly illuminated in neon lights of blue, green, and pink. I wasn't sure how stable it would be for us to cross, and we had to cover at least thirty feet of ground, maybe more.

And a three-story drop! I fucking hate heights. I spat a curse under my breath, and for a split second, I wished we faced a small horde of vectors instead of what was in front of me.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Peter grunted beside me, both hands running along with his hair as if he wanted to pull them out. "Just our shitting, son of a bitchin' luck!" Peter kicked the ledge, could practically feel the contact as he screamed another curse. He hopped awkwardly on one foot like a jackrabbit with a stubbed toe. "Fuck-shit-toe!"

"Careful there, boss," Haskell warned.

Peter glared at him. "I'll show you how to be careful!"

"Jeez. Friendly! Friendly!"

"Take it easy now, Peter. It's pretty obvious what we need to do," I said.

I looked across the other roof. I reckoned we only had a couple of blocks to go before we reached the loading docks. Just then, a loud explosion of buckling metal and splintered wood reverberated across the roof. I looked behind us to find the rooftop doors had been breached, spitting out half-burnt vectors mad for blood. As if they whiffed our scent, they whipped their heads to our general direction, shrieked, and started running.

I gave a gentle kick on the sign's buttress-like poles fixed an inch below the edge, felt it was sturdy enough to hop on over. I turned toward the others, said, "It looks safe."

"Are you sure?" Yousef asked nervously.

"Either stay here or face that!" I said, pointing at the horde approaching our location. "If you keep to the catwalk, you'll be fine. Just don't look down." I then checked my rifle's mag of how much I still have left.

Ten bullets left, including the one in the chamber.

I took a deep breath and started heading for the horde when Miguel grabbed my arm.

"Hey! Where the hell are you going?" Miguel asked.

"Where else? I'm gonna buy us some time."

"Fuck that, Bren. There are too many of them! You don't have the bullets."

"No choice. I'm doing this," I hissed. "Or do you want me to carry you across like a princess?"

Miguel couldn't find the words. We both shared a nod, and I went off toward the horde.

"If that's how it is, then you're not doing it alone," Logan said, coming up behind me. "If you need to weed them out, you need more firepower. I got one." He took out Betty.

"Count me in, too," Peter said, face grim yet determined. He and Logan shared the same expression.

I looked between the two for a second and shook my head, taking another deep breath. They're right. I'm gonna need a whole lot more. "Alright. Fine. The more, the merrier."

And hopefully, this will be enough.

"Well, come on, people! What the hell are you waiting for? Get on with it, you fucking pussies!" Peter shouted to the others left standing in our wake.

I didn't turn around to see who went first, heard only the metallic clang of someone jumping onto the catwalk, their cautious footsteps faint against the massive horde. I could already see the gravel on the ground started to vibrate by the rushing mass of bodies sprinting across the roof. About five of them were only sixty feet away, the rest left straggling behind by the same distance, either slowed down by their injuries or hindered by the others. There were only so many bodies that the narrow door frame could let out—two vectors exiting shoulder-to-shoulder by each second.

"You ready?" Logan asked.

"Never. But what can we do, eh?" I said.

Logan chuckled. "Uh, there's plenty."

"I mean, this ain't the first time we faced a horde this big. The previous ones probably numbered by the tens of thousands."

"Millions if you count New York."

"Right. So, yeah. I think we can handle this."

Logan looked at me curiously for a heartbeat; then, he gave me his widest, winning smile. "Damn. I never thought you to be the optimist in this situation. I guess there's a first time for everything."

"Fuck you. I am an optimist." I shook my head. "Anyway, less talking. Start shooting."

"Hm. I like that even more," Peter said behind us, giving Logan a dirty look.

Peter didn't hesitate to raise his rifle and dropped to one knee. He shot two in the first second alone, moving his sights to aim for the third. I didn't waste time either, hopping on top of a large ventilation unit to my left, giving me an easier advantage to pick out the vectors from this height. Logan followed my move and hopped onto the opposite HVAC unit, doing the same thing. Like muscle memory, I pulled the trigger, the vectors' faces quickly becoming a blur of red mist until I spent five of my rounds already, glad that none had missed.

The horde was thirty feet away, and they're gaining fast.

I spared a glance to the sign and found Yousef had almost reached the other side. Haskell was still halfway while Miguel had just hopped onto the beam, gripping tightly onto the fixed overhang behind the letters. The metal creaked under their combined weight.

Twenty feet.

Time to move.

"Let's get out of here!" I hollered.

I hopped down from the HVAC unit, stumbled as the tip of my shoes dug too deep into the gravel. I stumbled face-first on the ground. I feared a vector might jump onto my back, so I quickly whirled around, heard a loud pop before a body went down right beside me. A woman lay with her mouth partly open, bleeding on the bullet hole out of her throat. I looked around and found Peter winking at me.

"Thanks," I said, running past him.

"I'll cover you both," Peter said.

Logan jumped down from his unit just as two vectors reached it, now running around to where he landed. Logan swiveled, giving one a hole on his chest as he went down, then finished him with a bullet to the head once he's on the ground. The other almost snuck up behind him, but Peter managed to blow his brains out. Logan gave him a thumbs-up as he ran past him. Ahead, Yousef had reached the other side, spurring Haskell to hurry, extending his arm out for him. Haskell took it, and Yousef pulled him up to the roof safely.

We reached the edge again.

Peter pivoted and shot two more vectors before he jumped onto the catwalk, the sign groaning loudly from his additional weight. He didn't hesitate. While the others were slow and methodical, Peter looked like a tightrope artist as he covered the distance toward the middle in less than three seconds without even breaking a sweat nor intimidated by the height.

"You're next," I said to Logan. He paused, wanting to argue about it, but we didn't have the time. I grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him off the ledge. He landed on the narrow beam, catching himself just in time.

"What the shit!" Logan yelled, clutching onto the beam. "What the shit!"

"Get going, Logan!" I turned around and shot two more vectors who got too close.

"You're a fucking asshole, Bren!" Logan screamed over his shoulder, giving me the middle finger as he started crossing.

"You're still alive."

"Asshole!"

I shook my head. "I'll be right behind you."

Three bullets left, I reminded myself.

"You better!"

"Bren! We'll give cover!" Miguel screamed from the other roof, having reached it already. He and Haskell prepared their pistols, aiming at the approaching horde behind me. I could practically feel their fingers inches away from my back, like ants crawling at my shoulder blades, afraid that they'd pull me into the swarm at the last second.

I jumped onto the catwalk, finally made my way to the platform, rattling by the rough landing. No vector managed to grab me! However, I caught my ankle at a slightly awkward angle and almost tripped toward the side before I managed to grab a piece of the letter C. The neon lights were too hot to the touch after being left on for too long, and I screamed; reflexes and instinct sent my hand reeling back. I toppled over, thought I would meet air and the concrete below, but my body leaned at just the right angle where I ended up on the beam again, lying flat on my stomach with both my legs dangling over the edge.

"You're okay! You're okay!" Yousef yelled. "You can do it, Bren!"

I accidentally looked down between the catwalk's grating (and I shouldn't have done that), giving me a case of vertigo as I watched the concourse below filling up with vectors just as the roof behind me was.

"Oh, don't do that! Don't look down, dude!" Yousef yelled again.

"Er, jeez. Thanks, Sef," I whispered to myself. Finding enough strength on my arms, I pulled myself up to the beam, both my feet on solid ground again.

Bullets started flying above my head. Some vectors missed the landing, falling on top of two Alphas running away from the growing horde from the parking lot. Two vectors managed to survive the fall below, and it didn't take long for them to start attacking the men, sinking a bite on one man's ankle. More screams emanated from the plaza itself as dozens of vectors broke through the glass storefront windows and pulling out the terrified and cowering survivors inside, savagely beating them with their fists and ripping their faces off. I looked away from the carnage as I made my way to the center.

Peter reached the other roof and turned around to face me. "You guys gotta move fast! It's not gonna hold!" He shouted.

I made the mistake of looking back. They adapted to avoid the ledge they were so close to falling, but the mass of bodies still coming from behind kept pushing them off. A few did manage to land on the platform, and through trial-and-error, they began their slow approach on the catwalk toward me. One snarled in my direction, almost gaining by ten feet when suddenly, his face exploded. I glanced forward and saw Miguel had shot him. The vector keeled over and fell off the sign.

"I'm out!" Miguel called out.

"We don't have the bullets for that," Peter said, pointing at the revolver that I gave to Miguel earlier.

I didn't count on how quick vectors had learned to tackle their new obstacle, though it would take them a minute.

A horrible thought entered my mind.

Honcho.

"Guys, there's a kid in there!" I screamed.

"There! I see it!" Haskell screamed, pointing at the far side of the ledge.

I followed where Haskell was pointing at and found the vector child standing there at the edge, like an observant eagle perched on a tree, watching the buckling sign and the prey standing on it. It was a girl, no more than six years old, and she had that awful grin on her face when she realized I saw her. Goosebumps snaked up my spine, and she disappeared into the horde.

"Where'd she go? Can you see her?" Haskell kept asking.

"She disappeared!" Yousef exclaimed. "Everyone, keep an eye out!"

"We lost her. Just start shooting!" Peter hissed.

They fired at the vectors who got too close behind my back, taking out at least half a dozen when I was about ten feet away from the edge. Logan had just reached it. The sign groaned once again, but this time, it shuddered, shaking for more than a few seconds compared to earlier. I looked back and realized about twenty vectors had crowded around the landing, one on top of the other (some had fallen off), and cautiously stalked the catwalk, their weird, two-pupil eyes focused on me. I had the urge to scream then and there, spurring me more to move my ass up and get the fuck out.

The metal buckled and groaned like a car crash right after the second metal hit metal. Before I noticed it, the sign swayed, slanted, realized it was falling apart due to all the weight. Logan reached his hand out, eyes desperate to clamor for mine.

"Come on, Watts! Grab my hand!" He lay flat on his stomach with Miguel and Yousef, both grabbing for his legs as support.

I had six feet left to go, but the sign violently separated from the wall. Cables and rebar snapped and dislodged from the concrete, the neon lights flickered, and sparks exploded, and the catwalk rolled over as if it was capsizing. My feet wobbled as the ground disappeared beneath me, lost a grip on my rifle, but I managed to step up to the letter R, boosting my momentum forward to close the gap. I wanted to close my eyes as my body slammed against the wall, skin scraping against the rough surface. My shoulders felt like they were on fire, thought I'd end up flailing in the air, but then I looked up, saw Logan grinning, our hands locked into mine.

I glanced down to the concourse where the sign now lay in utter ruins with dozens of vectors trapped under the rubble.

"Don't you dare let go!" I roared to Logan.

"I won't!"

Peter also lay on his stomach and reached halfway out of the ledge, reaching for my other hand. Haskell grabbed his legs.

"We're gonna pull you up!" Peter said, grabbing my hand.

I tried not to panic as they hauled me back to the roof, not thinking about how there's a three-story gap between me and certain death. Once my butt touched gravel, a slew of curses escaped my lips while Yousef and Miguel burst into cheers. Logan gave me a pat on the back and helped me up to my feet. I gave him a hug, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders, glad that I was still kicking, pleased that everyone was still alive. Logan put his arm around me and gave me a gentle squeeze, and the warmth was enough to restore some of my energy to keep moving forward. Trying to climb back from the ledge was fucking exhausting.

"You're okay. We're okay," Logan tried to reassure me. "Push me off the ledge again, and I swear, I'll kill you."

"Yeah. Sorry about that."

"That was close!" Peter interrupted, sighing in relief. Reaching out, he grabbed my arm and spun me around, pulling me out of Logan's embrace and into his. I hugged him as well. "That was so close, Bren."

Haskell started clapping his hands to get our attention. "Hey! Hey! Can everyone just save the party for later? We're trying to escape, remember?"

"Don't be an ass, Hoss," Peter hissed.

Haskell grunted. "Hmph. Wasn't trying to," he mumbled.

I unwound myself from Peter and strode toward Miguel. He didn't object to me helping him again.

We headed east, and fortunately, there were no vectors on this side of the roof.

——

We were too late.

Hundreds of vectors had already poured into the loading docks where most of the armored and military vehicles—including those trucks they had used for scouting—were stationed. Yet, there were still several survivors fighting for those that were left behind. It was a mad sea of bodies tearing each other apart, screams broken and frantic, where you couldn't discern which friend from foe.

A group of barely-clothed women pulled out a heavily bearded and tattooed man from an SUV's driver's seat, then proceeded to beat him with a tire iron, caving his skull with each pummels, and then stole the vehicle. Not far from them, two armed men were in a mad brawl wrestling out the keys for a Toyota, only for another Alpha, a balding, sinewy man, came up from behind and shot them both with his shotgun killing both of them instantly. He took the keys and went for the Toyota, but a vector latched onto his back and went for his face. Adjacent to the Toyota, a young couple managed to get inside a truck. Still, they couldn't move any further, boxed by the surrounding vehicles, causing the vectors to root them out through the broken glass, their screams frighteningly resonant.

Here and there, others met the same fate. With everyone pressing for a way out, the entire area was on gridlock, and only a few cars could escape.

I gasped. This is gonna be a bloodbath. I didn't want to look at it anymore with us safe on the rooftop, but that would not last.

"It's too far away!" Yousef exclaimed.

I saw the fear and hesitation in everyone's eyes, even in Peter, which surprised me a little bit. I doubt anything would shake him up. I guessed tonight I was wrong. "No, we're gonna make it," I said, reassuring the others, thought that it was better to say it. It didn't make me feel better. "We're gonna make it out of here. Just a few more steps."

"Are you sure?" Logan asked, grinning nervously.

"Yeah. What choice do we have?"

It took quite a while to find the fire escape at the side of the building. I peered below and found the side street devoid of vectors, only seeing a single dead body lying at the bottom steps, gutted like a fish. When I was sure the body was alone, I gestured for the others to start climbing down. As we went down, the acrid stench of smoke, rotten eggs, and something earthy, realizing that the building below us was actually burning. I could only imagine if we stayed up on that roof for a few minutes longer, the entire roof might cave into the floor below us, and we'd be dead.

Fires roared out of the broken windows from the third floor, making their way down to the second. At least the fire escape remained intact, protected by the building's exterior—made out of bricks rather than wood—but it was starting to turn black. Though, I could hear people banging against the door from the other side, unable to open them, begging to be let