As the convoy rolled to a stop, soldiers and civilians climbed down from the vehicles. Another new town, another brief respite. Aside from the newly-joined survivors, everyone else felt like they'd aged a decade overnight.
Following the same routine as before, soldiers fanned out to establish checkpoints around the town's perimeter and wire up the streetlights for illumination.
The civilians handled the usual tasks—clearing residences, hauling supplies, building fires for warmth. But this time they had an additional job: clearing snow from the roads.
Given the past two days' snowfall, if they didn't clear it now, the accumulation would be ankle-deep by morning. And with the ever-present possibility of emergency evacuation, they needed to prepare for every contingency.
Bryan rubbed his numb hands together as he joined the queue at the supply distribution point. For some reason, when the adults spotted him—a kid—they immediately made way for him. He wasn't touched by the gesture; if anything, it felt weirdly suspicious. Have I gotten so cynical that I can't believe in basic human kindness anymore?
Thanks to the constant yielding, he quickly reached the front. As luck would have it, the soldier distributing food was Tracy, the one assigned to their bus.
He handed over his and Sarah's ID cards, holding up two fingers. "Two portions, please."
Tracy glanced at the cards, studying the Asian boy in front of her. Something about him seemed familiar. When she saw the second card, she remembered—these were the two unaccompanied children on her bus.
She recalled the files noting they had no adult guardians. Something stirred in her chest. Maybe she should make time to check on all the kids traveling alone.
"Here you go."
She returned the cards and handed over two pre-packaged food portions. When Bryan held out two bowls, she ladled hot soup into each and passed them back.
"Thank you." Bryan carefully accepted the steaming bowls and headed toward a red-roofed house on the side of the street.
Passersby made way for the kid carrying hot soup, careful not to bump into him.
The house was considerably smaller than last night's shelter. When Bryan entered, he didn't see Sarah at her usual spot. His eyes swept the room until he found her in a corner, crouched beside a Black woman leaning weakly against the wall—the hero from last night. They were chatting animatedly, both looking genuinely happy.
He wasn't sure how they'd ended up together, but it didn't seem like a bad thing. Based on how she'd fought last night... yeah, she seemed like good people.
"What's so funny over here?"
Bryan walked over with the hot soup, set the bowls down gently, then pulled food from his backpack and handed it to Sarah with a smile.
Sarah spotted him approaching and tugged his sleeve once he sat down. "Bryan, this is the brave sister from yesterday! Her name's Sylvia. Let me introduce you!"
"No need." Bryan rolled his eyes theatrically and swatted her hand away, then extended his own hand to Sylvia with exaggerated formality. "Hi. I'm Bryan. Chinese-American."
Sarah rubbed her stinging hand, cheeks puffing out indignantly. She glared at Bryan, humphed, and turned away in a show of mock offense.
"Hehe..."
Sylvia found their interaction amusing and laughed out loud. She reached up to shake Bryan's hand—but the movement pulled at her back injury. The smile vanished, replaced by a wince. According to the medic, she'd need at least ten days to fully recover from the massive bruise where she'd been slammed against the wall. Fighting through the pain, she managed: "Hi. I'm Sylvia."
Bryan noticed her discomfort and remembered that brutal impact from last night. Even thinking about it made his spine tingle. He quickly released her hand so she could lower her arm.
"Sorry—forgot you're still hurt."
Now that introductions were done, Bryan naturally slipped into information-gathering mode. He learned how Sylvia had escaped her Infected-overrun city and made it to Dallas.
While the three of them chatted, a figure appeared beside them. Bryan looked up to find the pretty brown-haired girl who'd joined them on the road. She was holding a bowl of hot soup.
"Anna! Come, sit down."
Sylvia brightened at the sight of her, waving her over while explaining to Bryan and Sarah: "This is Anna. Her mother was a nurse. If it weren't for her, I'd probably still be suffering. She's been taking care of me."
Then, to Anna: "This is Sarah's companion, Bryan."
Bryan raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two women. Anna had only joined the convoy today, yet they seemed like old friends. How had that happened?
"Hi. Bryan." He nodded politely, then noticed Sylvia had only introduced him. He turned to Sarah with feigned casualness. "Wait, do you already know Anna?"
"Mm-hm." Sarah nodded. "When you went to get food, Anna asked me to help look after Sylvia. It wasn't a big deal, so I said sure."
"Oh..."
So it was Anna's doing. Bryan filed that away, automatically wondering about her motives. Was she deliberately trying to get close to them? If so, why?
While Bryan and Sarah talked, Anna fed Sylvia her food and soup, helping her eat since moving her arms was still painful.
Once Sylvia had eaten her fill, she smiled gratefully at the girl. "Thank you. Really, I appreciate it."
"It's nothing." Anna beamed at the sincere thanks. She'd always wanted to be like her mother—to heal people, to help. That dream had been derailed when Cordyceps broke out and schools closed, but helping others still brought her joy.
As three became four, they all learned more about each other. Anna's father had also joined the convoy and was currently helping soldiers gather supplies.
Anna stretched and crossed her legs. "I heard everyone chose their own destination. Why'd you all pick Atlanta? It's so far..."
Bryan thought about his own reasons. He drained his soup and sighed. "My parents are in Washington. But the farthest destination Dallas offered was Atlanta. So I'm heading there first—then I'll figure out how to get to Washington, or write and have them come find me."
Anna looked at Bryan, then at Sarah. Her expression grew uncertain, like she wanted to ask something but wasn't sure if she should.
Bryan read her mind and explained before she could fumble: "Sarah's my neighbor. Her parents are... missing. So I'm looking after her."
When he mentioned Joel and Tommy, he hesitated visibly. He'd said "missing" instead of "dead." He glanced at Sarah and saw her expression darken. He quickly rubbed her back, murmuring comfort.
Ahem.
Sensing she'd touched a nerve, Sylvia cleared her throat and changed the subject.
"My sister's studying in Atlanta. She's my only family left, so I have to find her. I don't even know if she's still alive..."
Her eyes grew moist. Painful memories surfaced.
Anna looked helplessly at both Sarah and Sylvia, now both upset. Seriously? I barely said anything and they're both crying?
She could only reach out to comfort Sylvia. "Don't worry—it's a big city. There's definitely military presence. What's your sister's name? When we get there, we'll help you look."
Sylvia wiped her tears, embarrassed, but the offer of help made her hesitate only briefly before answering: "Her name's Marlene. She's eighteen. She's a senior at Georgia High School."