Carrion (The Bren Watts Diaries #1)

Chapter 113

BREN

"That'll work," I said after looking through the night vision binoculars. "And the hotel next to it looks empty."

Miguel, Jun, Peter, Logan, and I were perched on a hilly spot overlooking I-81. Half a mile away was the Red Lion Inn—and a few other traveler's lodges—next to a three-story parking garage, which was also used for parking vehicles for government employees for the Department of Game Commission, Environmental Services, PEMA labs, and the Susquehanna School District. They were clustered together in some office park along with other buildings, banks, trading offices, insurance, and what-have-you, but they all looked empty, too.

"What do you think, Jun?" I asked, handing the binoculars back to him.

Jun looked through the binoculars once again. "The hotels blocked the view from the garage. Anyone looking up the hill from the freeway won't see us if we decide to make a fire. Overall, I like it."

I smiled. "Great. That settles it. We're gonna camp out on the upper floors. It gives us a good view of everything around us." I couldn't risk going door-to-door, checking to see if the hotel was empty with survivors, or worse, vectors. I didn't want to rattle anyone's nests, so it was better to use the parking garage.

I saw the others nodding to my plan. Logan quietly looked around, watching everyone else's reaction. When he caught me looking, he lowered his gaze. Our conversation earlier was still fresh in his mind, and it didn't help everyone in the RV heard about it. I was thankful none of them brought it up once I got out of the cabin and sat on the couch. Aria and Yousef tried to continue their conversation, but it sounded forced. There was definitely tension in the air, and I was desperately trying to cut it down.

I need to cool off, I thought when I walked back to the RV.

We parked on the third floor, though not on the rooftop garage since I wanted some protection from the elements. It might rain, and that's just cruel for everyone who would sleep in the tents. We couldn't all fit in the RV.

The Wheelers, the frat boys, and the girls from the outpost started setting up their tents—sometimes single or 3-men-sized tents—unrolled their sleeping bags, some pillows, blankets, and other nightly routines that they do. Paloma and her friends would sleep in their van since the seats converted into one giant mattress. I realized that they had already eaten dinner, but I made Miguel brew some jasmine tea to warm them up for the night. It wasn't to make up for anything, though I doubted giving them tea would suddenly allow them to forget what I had done. That would have been nice, I thought, but sadly, I didn't have that power.

Still, they didn't refuse when I offered it to them, but there was hesitation from the frat boys. They probably heard about me poisoning those soldiers, and I made a mental note to talk to Haskell about letting unwanted things slip off his tongue. I knew he was unnerved by all we had done, but that's no excuse to run his mouth around, a point which I told to Peter.

"Relax. I already talked to him," Peter said. "He's a little scared and jittery."

"Just make sure he's doing okay, alright? I don't want him to fall off the wagon."

"I will. Don't worry."

The others refused to talk to me (by others, I meant the new guys) or were at least jumpy when I am around. I tried not to let it bother me since it was still fresh in everyone's mind. It was understandable. After all, it was one hell of a first impression, and we barely knew each other for less than a day. Still, I kept my eye on them all night. Who knew what they're going to do once they decided I'm a loose end? People who thought they're above you would do unspeakable things, and I saw some already view me like that.