The three top scientists that went to Antarctica together had an office, and it's on this continent. Nevermind that it's a sixteen-hour drive away; everyone here but Patrick has their driver's licenses, so we can rotate. Ember initially wants to drive straight through the night. I point out that only Calico J and Ditzy—who managed to nap yesterday—are fit to drive at all right now, and we'll need Oreo to navigate once we're out of the state. He's nowhere near functional. Ember herself looks about to fall over. I've been awake long enough that my reaction time is little better than if I was inebriated, and I've little desire to die by car crash before we even get a chance to save the world.

We eventually come to a compromise: drive until sunset, then camp for the night so all of us can get some proper sleep. This turns out to be an exceptionally good idea for more than one reason.

I've fallen half asleep when a terrific swerve flings me against the window. Van wheels screech. Several chaotic seconds and an outburst of swearing from the driver's seat later, we've pulled over at the side of the road. Ditzy slams the brakes again, and my seatbelt locks. We almost hit a person. A woman has stepped from the forest beside the road, and walks in front of us like she hasn't even noticed our headlights. Her hair is lank, her clothing stained. She's white enough for the glare of the lights to pick out veins of Redding beneath her skin. She's a Sleeper. A Sleepwalker, but without any obvious lethal injuries. It's not just the dead ones who're walking now.

A glance out the back window reveals the cause of Ditzy's swerving. We just came around a bend and drove straight into a herd of people. They're all like the woman. All crossing the road in the same direction, walking slowly but without the incoordination of proper zombies. They're not zombies. These people are still alive. I expect them to notice us and close in at any moment, but the Redding isn't interested in repeating what it did with Psy—sending a Sleepwalker into a survivor group and attacking anyone it can to speed up the killing process. If this monster knows we're here, it knows it can't get us. At least not the way it took down the remainder of the Anport rescues.

Ember told us what happened after we left. The strain of Redding Psy brought back with him was infectious and deadly, likely picked up from Vix, then spread to the rest of the group. They all turned within the span of an hour. Too fast to kill by knife or club, which apparently cuts the Redding's control of a still-living body. The turning members attacked each other. Those who fled outside found the Redding had put their house under siege, welling up from the basement and filling the yard. Others hid in rooms, only for it to drop bodies outside, trapping them in and sending tendrils from the corpses under the door. That's what happened to Oreo. He and Ember locked themselves in the office when they realized they couldn't save anyone else. I can only imagine what they've been through.

"You okay back there?" I say, glancing over my seat. I'm met with an indistinct grumble from Oreo. Flung from the backseat he was sleeping on when Ditzy braked, he's given up trying to return to it and made himself comfy on the floor. Ember rolls her eyes and unbuckles herself to go help him.

Ditzy and Calico J are talking in quick, lowered voices in the front seats. I lean in to join them just as Calico J turns around to solicit my opinion.

"We stopping here for the night?" I say.

"That's what we're thinking. We've seen a couple Sleepwalkers on the road up until now, but this the most by far. Ditzy thinks it's downstream flow from Derbridge."

"How big is Derbridge?"

"Thirty thousand," says Ditzy, her face grim. "And it sprawls, so the road might be like this for miles. We won't make it out before dark, that's for sure."

Bloody sunset light bathes the sky. We've got an hour left until nightfall, and the forest is already gloomy. I'm with Ditzy and Calico J on this one.

I pass all this back to Ember, and we vote to just find the closest place with lockable doors to spend the night. We have the remainder of the Anport rescues' food along, mostly stuff like dry instant ramen and granola bars that didn't have enough water in them for the Redding to exploit. It all comes down to water in the end. I'd be willing to bet that if this entity knows any languages other than Old Kjóll and Morse code, it'll be stuff like Hawaiian. I don't want to know how multilingual it is, really.

At least we can guess now why Morse code doesn't wake Sleepers. Ember figures a person has to recognize their name when it's spoken or tapped for the Redding to identify and use it, so Morse code isn't as safe as we figured. It's just that most Sleepers never knew Morse code. It makes me even more glad Calico J and I agreed early on that no real names would be shared within our group. And that we've never met anyone with the same real name as our nicknames. We might have taken someone down by accident just by introducing ourselves.

We find a driveway not much farther up the road. Ditzy turns down it, stopping and starting as we wait for Sleepers to wander past us. Given the general zombie ambiance, I expect to find another near-ruin like the Anport murder house at the end. I'm pleasantly surprised. It's a cute little cabin with a wood-burning stove inside, where I soon get a fire going. Patrick takes inventory of our food while everyone else gets settled.

"We want anything fancy for dinner?" I say to the room at large.

"If we do, it's up to you guys," says Ember. She jerks a thumb at Oreo, who's passed out on a couch. "He cooks. I'd burn a salad."

As it turns out, we're all too tired to make anything fancy anyway. We eat granola bars and instant ramen for supper, then steal mattresses, lay out sleeping bags, and try uneasily to sleep while the crackle of Sleepwalkers through the forest passes by us by all through the night.

Oreo's awake enough to navigate come morning. The Redding did a number on him, which I suppose is to be expected when its intent was to hijack his central nervous system, then kill him. It scarcely gets him down, though. Three hours into the day's trip, Ditzy gets bored enough to start a farm-animal-zombie bingo, and finds several willing participants in the vehicle.

"Beef!" shouts Calico J from the back seat, in tears of laughter.

"Beef again," calls Ditzy from the other side. "Where's mutton? We don't have mutton yet. Veal? No, that's beef. Goat? Can you eat goat?"

"Sure can," says Oreo. "Pigeon, too."

"That's not a farm animal."

"But they are domesticated."

"How do you know these things?"

He grins. "Nerd. Oh! Chicken strips!"

"Chicken wings."

"Rotisserie chicken."

"Chicken soup."

"Coq au vin."

"At least let me write down the directions so you can get distracted without losing our way," says Ember in exasperation.

"No," says Oreo. "I'm paying attention. Look at all my attention. Also, I don't have it memorized. I'll need to see the signs anyway."

"You're counting cows."

"No we're not. We're counting beef."

I'm glad I'm driving.

The game breaks as we enter another slow flood of Sleepwalkers crossing the road. They wade through the crop fields on either side, somehow both less and more intimidating than they were last night. They can't surprise us now. But they only look more ghastly in the light of day.

They can still surprise us. As we pass a windbreak, one steps from hiding onto the road. I slam the brakes.

"Careful," gasps Oreo.

"I am."

We were already going less than fifty, and I had enough warning to stop. I wait for the Sleepwalker to pass. When I glance in the rearview mirror to see if everyone's okay, Oreo is checking that the Sleepwalker made it across safely. Only when she's gone does he lean back against Ember's shoulder. She slips an arm around him.

Ditzy raises an eyebrow at both. "Now you care?"

"These ones aren't dead," says Ember. "Or attacking."

"We don't know if normal Sleepers will turn back if the Redding ever leaves," says Oreo. "We do know they haven't died yet. And they're innocent people. Yes, we care."

"A bit too much sometimes." Ember's smile is serene, but something in her voice sends a chill through me. "My vote was to ditch that group after the second time someone tried to murder us, but someone here insisted."

"Murder you?" says Ditzy, incredulous. "Someone who turned zombie?"

"No," says Oreo. "Just desperate. They were sane."

"Debatable," says Ember. "But not zombie, no."

"Is anyone who's still alive at this point fully sane anymore?" Oreo drops his head to her shoulder and glances up at her. "Bryn suggested screenings by week three, and the only ones to vote against it were me, you, June, and Cassie. Out of thirty-two."

"We voted for."

"After Cassie turned and took June with her. Tore his throat out in the middle of the living-room floor, and Bryn called it karma in front of everyone. Remember?"

We all flinch. All of us except Ember, who's watching out the window like remembering is the last thing she wants to do. Oreo doesn't press the point. The van falls silent after that.

It's halfway to sunset by the time we near our destination. The mood in the van remains somber as we cruise into the outskirts of San Feliciano, one of the biggest cities in this corner of the country. Ember is driving. I try not to shiver as I watch out the windows.

San Fel is silent. None of us have been to any metropolitan area larger than Chesnet since before Red Thursday, but even Chesnet and imagination aren't enough to prepare me for the city. Whole roads of stopped and crashed cars. Old burn scars. Blocks of dark and silent buildings, and blocks where open signs still glow in the windows of empty stores. It feels apocalyptic. More so than anything I've seen in the last seven weeks, and not the slightest bit helped by the steady tide of Sleepers flowing through it. They're still all walking the same way. Hours ago, that way was north, towards the Baycord river and its tributaries. Here, it's south, towards the larger Roxtawa river that bisects San Fel. In the intervening hours, though, the Redding's animated puppets walked east, towards the sea.

We stick to the raised highways for as long as we can. I doubt any of these Sleepers are San Fel residents. They're arriving from elsewhere, many wearing rural boots and clothes. The Redding is emptying this whole region.

"Next ramp," says Oreo. It's time to get off the highway.

Ember slows as we near ground level. Veins of Redding stretch along the city's roads, in and out of storm drains, and under doors. This must be how it activated its Sleeper network. The roads of Plyster-Anport county are clear already, but it had a much smaller population to drain. I search the faces of the Sleepwalkers. Most look hale and whole, but some are obviously dead. Their eyes leak like Psy's.

Ember navigates both Sleepwalkers and the slippery asphalt with admirable skill. We wend our way to the middle of the city, where my brain keeps telling me the buildings will collapse in on us at any moment. And then, sooner than I'm ready for, we pull into a private parking lot. The building beside us is a nondescript concrete block, thirty stories high and stamped with a university logo. Ember parks the van. "We're here."

Ditzy's flail jingles. Ember has her club, but she's not going to be wielding it if we want Oreo along. He can't walk. I'd suggest a wheelchair, but the elevators won't work without electricity, and this building is dark right now. Calico J passes around flashlights. The sun is two-thirds down the sky. We'll have enough early-evening light coming through the windows to navigate much of the building, I think, but getting back could be a struggle.

If we make it back.

I decide not to think about that option.

"Ready?" says Ember, when everyone has been furnished with lights, weapons, and spare food in case we get trapped. We're not leaving anything of survival value in the van, except the van itself. And we're not leaving anyone behind.

The question is directed at me, so I look around and get a nod from each of my teammates. "Ready."

"Then let's do this." Ember boots her door open and steps out, ready to bash any Sleepwalker who comes for her. One veers in her direction, but the Redding recognizes us a moment later. The Sleeper lurches back to its original trajectory.

"That's right, sleeping beauty," says Ember. "Just keep walking."

She circles around to pick up Oreo while the rest of us creep out of the vehicle. Ditzy is first to approach the building. Its doors are tall, glass, and—without electricity for the keycard reader—locked firmly. Ditzy steps back and readies her flail.

"That won't be enough," says Ember. "Those are shockproof."

"Don't know until you've tried."

"You're talking to an engineer. I've run that stuff through a drop shock testing machine before. I know what it looks like."

Ditzy, to my surprise, lowers her flail. "So what do you suggest?"

"Garbage disposal bay," says Oreo. He's made himself comfortable on Ember's back, braced against her shoulders. "Those doors are easily jacked, and the ones into the building inside usually only have a deadbolt. We've knocked them in before."

I forget too easily that these two have been feeding and looking out for a group of up to thirty-two people since Red Thursday. That's an endeavor that no doubt required breaking into buildings that our little squad hasn't even needed to think about. It's also a good reminder that Oreo is a scientist. He's likely worked in buildings just like this. As for the garbage disposal entrance, he guessed correctly. The bay door auto-unlocked with the loss of electricity. It's heavy, but we get it open enough to slip underneath. It takes me and Ditzy between us to bust the deadbolt into the building, but then we're in.

Like this chapter if you'd let someone else lead the way on this excursion...

Comment if you'd be the first to explore the city  ✨