On the streets of Dallas, early morning.
Two teenagers jogged along the wide avenue, their breath misting in the cold air. Despite the low temperature, their clothes were damp with sweat.
Passersby gave them strange looks, clearly baffled by their behavior.
"Bryan... slow... down!"
They'd been weaving through streets and alleys for what felt like forever. Eventually, Sarah began falling behind. Her pace slowed until she finally stopped altogether, hands on her hips, gasping for breath as she called out to the boy ahead.
Hearing her, Bryan turned around—but kept jogging in place, his arms and legs still moving. "What's wrong? Can't keep up? And you call yourself the captain of your school's soccer team!"
"That... that was ages ago! I... I can't... I really can't do this anymore." Sarah clutched her stomach, panting heavily. Every part of her felt awful—itchy skin, trembling legs. All she wanted was to find somewhere to collapse.
"Don't sit down—that's bad for you. Get up and walk first."
Bryan saw her heading for a stone block by the roadside, clearly about to sit. He jogged over quickly and pulled her back to her feet just as she was lowering herself down.
"What are you doing?!" Sarah had been so close to sweet, sweet rest. Being yanked back up when her body felt this terrible made her temper flare. She frowned and snapped at him.
"Relax, don't get mad. I'll walk with you. Just give it a minute before you rest, okay?" He patted her back gently and, ignoring her protests, supported her as they started walking.
Leaning against him, letting him take some of her weight, Sarah felt a bit better. She stopped resisting and let her wobbly legs carry her forward, one step at a time.
After a while, once she felt more recovered, she pulled away and walked on her own. Remembering her outburst, she grumbled: "How come I'm dying and you're perfectly fine?"
"Guess I'm just in better shape." Bryan smiled at her complaining face. Truthfully, he wasn't feeling great either—just not as dramatically bad as she was.
That puzzled him, actually. In his previous life, he'd exercised too. He knew how brutal the first sessions always were. But despite running for over thirty minutes, he was only mildly winded—nothing else seemed wrong.
Whatever. As long as it's not a problem, no point overthinking it.
He shook off the thought. After walking with Sarah for another fifteen minutes, he checked the time. "The first day is always the hardest. You'll get used to it. Let's call it here for today—we're just starting out, so we need to pace ourselves. We'll gradually increase the distance."
"Thank god." The moment she heard they were done, Sarah visibly relaxed, breaking into a happy smile.
"Tch. It's only day one, and you're already this lazy." Bryan shook his head helplessly, but he was smiling.
"Oh, shut up!"
...
By the time they returned to the RV, Osborne and Kelly had already left to join the registration queue. Bryan had told them his decision that morning. Though their faces had shown reluctance, they'd simply nodded in understanding without trying to stop him.
He and Sarah grabbed fresh clothes and took turns using the shower. Dallas still had public hand-pump wells scattered throughout the city. The lines for water were long, but their large container only needed refilling every two or three days.
The RV's power came from a small quiet generator and the solar panels on the roof. Since personal vehicles weren't allowed into the Quarantine Zone, there was no point conserving resources anymore.
As for clothes, they'd simply taken what they needed from clothing stores during the riots. Besides food storage locations, clothing stores had been prime looting targets—but most people grabbed adult-sized clothes. Unless someone had kids at home, the children's sections remained largely untouched.
After his shower, Bryan felt refreshed. He tossed his dirty clothes aside—with new ones available daily, there was no point washing them—grabbed his ID card, called Sarah, and headed toward the Administrative Office along yesterday's route.
Today, the office lobby was nothing like the empty room he'd visited before. It was packed with people. Strangely, though, most of them were crowded around one wall, while the actual service counters had almost no line.
Bryan looked toward the crowd and realized they were gathered around the wall with the US map. Curious, he told Sarah to wait and used his small frame to squeeze through the forest of legs.
Up close, he saw the map was now dotted with red marks that hadn't been there yesterday. Listening to fragments of conversation around him, he pieced it together: the military had finalized all available transfer destinations and marked them on the map for anyone considering voluntary relocation.
He studied the map carefully. Most red dots clustered around cities near Dallas. The farther away, the fewer the dots. Looking toward the east coast, the farthest destination was Atlanta.
"What are they looking at?"
Outside the office, Sarah stood on tiptoe trying to peer inside. When Bryan emerged, she asked curiously.
"Nothing important. Just a map showing the Quarantine Zone locations." Bryan wiped the sweat from his forehead and took a deep breath at the doorway. Squeezing through that crowd had been exhausting.
ID cards in hand, he led Sarah to the counter where he'd spoken to the worker before. He'd forgotten to ask her name last time, but now he could see her nameplate: Clarice.
The line wasn't long, but the paperwork seemed complicated. They still waited half an hour before reaching the front.
"Hello. Please present your ID card."
Clarice had her head down, fingers flying across the keyboard as she entered information for the previous applicant. When she finished and looked up, her expression shifted to surprise.
Across from her stood two children—a boy and a girl. She recognized the boy immediately. He'd been the first person to visit her yesterday.
"Oh! You're back?"
Bryan slid both ID cards through the window and nodded with a smile. "Yes, ma'am. I've thought it over. I want to volunteer for the Atlanta Quarantine Zone."
Clarice picked up the cards and glanced at the information. For the first time, she learned the boy's name was Bryan. She studied him for a long moment, making one last attempt to dissuade him.
"Are you... really sure about this?"
"Thank you, but yes. I'm sure." Bryan understood she meant well. He thanked her sincerely but didn't waver.
"Alright... I hope you're truly prepared for this." Seeing her warning was futile, Clarice could only sigh internally. It wasn't her concern, really—she'd just taken a liking to this kid and wanted to say a few extra words.
"And this one..." She entered Bryan's information, then picked up the second card. Looking at the girl beside him, she raised an eyebrow with a teasing smile. "Your little girlfriend?"
Sarah, who'd been standing by somewhat bored, felt her face flush at the comment. She had no idea why this woman would say such a thing. Embarrassed, she ducked behind Bryan.
"Ahem..." Bryan coughed twice, his own cheeks warming. "She's just a friend. We're traveling companions."
"Mm-hmm~"
Clarice drew out the sound, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. But her expression and smile clearly spelled out three words: I don't believe you.
Bryan shook his head helplessly. He didn't bother explaining further. Let her think what she wanted—they probably wouldn't see each other again anyway.
A few minutes later, Clarice slid the ID cards back through the window. Her teasing manner was gone, replaced by professionalism. "I've registered you both as volunteers for the Atlanta Quarantine Zone. You're in the first batch. Return home and wait for notification, then report with your ID cards."
Dallas's military vehicles were limited. For a migration this large, nearby zones would have to send their own convoys to collect people from Dallas.
The vehicles Dallas did have were reserved for long-distance transport—like the journey to Atlanta. And they couldn't move tens of thousands of people at once.
The logistics alone were daunting. Beyond food and vehicles, a massive group traveling through infection zones would be like ringing a dinner bell for every infected in the region. That's why the government planned to send survivors out in batches—to ensure most of them actually reached their destination alive.