Carrion (The Bren Watts Diaries #1)

Chapter 108

"Is this the right road?" I asked Peter, studying the maps that this Lt. Nunes had given them.

"For the fourth time, he said to take Stoney Creek Road; we take Stoney Creek Road," Peter said.

I frowned, still skeptical if the information was genuine. The path led us back to Dauphin, passed the house we slept last night, and then into the middle of nowhere. Route 22 was a choke point for anyone driving at this side of the Susquehanna River, but there were still many roads leading into Harrisburg out east, and that's where we were banking on.

On the map, the road kept hugging the hills that bordered Harrisburg, but out the window, all I saw was green. Green! Green! Green! Forests, creeks, and hills as far as the eye could see. It would lead us into the northern suburbs, taking the back roads of a neighborhood called Centennial Acres Park, sounding like some rich asshole's paradise, which I suspected was rarely used, past a place called Ellendale Forge and White Spring. I didn't see any signs outside pointing me in the right direction, making me feel horrible. To add salt to the wound, the road went on for miles without an intersection, just a continuous stretch of pavement with no sign of civilization aside from the high-voltage power lines cutting a path into the woods and over the hills.

I crossed my arms in a huff. "If he's lying, I'll personally go up there and give him a new asshole."

Peter shook his head. "As much as I'd love to watch that, Nunes lives in my hall, Bren. I had breakfast, lunch, and dinner with him on the same table for almost a year and had PT together. If he said there's someone who can take us inside Harrisburg, he's telling the truth. He's friends with a lot of cadets who died at Albany. I think he's just glad we made it out of there. He's a good guy."

Peter had told me many times Nunes's exact words. Another cadet in the same class ass them was on a secret gate where scouts would enter and exit into the Red Zone, supposedly to map out the grounds and track the hordes approaching the city before Reclamation Day would commence.

"The I-81 bridge downtown is the only one that stands," Peter told me. "The rest have been bombed. The beltway is our only way across the river. Apparently, they're letting refugees who used to live inside Harrisburg."

But not the ones that arrive, like us, I thought grimly.

Nunes would radio the guy, let them in, and they were free to cross Harrisburg without escort and be armed at all times.

That was what concerned me. Be armed. Harrisburg was supposed to be another Safe Zone like Albany, so what happened? What the hell was going on inside Harrisburg? Nunes also mentioned staying away from downtown, but that was the point! The bridge was downtown, the only way across the river unless we would risk our limbs to try the bridges downriver, but then, it would already be too late. We would be stuck with the army and the vector horde on each side, and I would not let that happen.

"Uh, guys, we got a situation," Logan crackled through the radio. He was driving the Honda Civic behind us with Jun.

Again? I grabbed the radio from the dashboard. "Yeah. What's up?"

A pause. "Bren, there are people following us."

Shit. This was not what I want to hear. "How many cars?"

"At least four. Jun's the one that spotted them, and he recognizes some of them from the highway. They're lagging about a quarter of a mile. I doubt we'd lose them on this road unless there's an intersection coming, is there?"

I looked over to Peter, and he shook his head. We're out of luck. "Can't do that."

"Bummer. What are we going to do?"