Carrion (The Bren Watts Diaries #1)

Chapter 120

BREN

By the time we arrived, the museum was empty.

We had been in the museum for an hour now. I was disappointed to find that Miguel and the others had not been here yet, so I ordered the others to stay inside for three hours, as we've discussed, and waited for them after we've cleared out the building. There were no signs of vectors. With Cora back in our hands, the others would be on foot, and it might take them a long time to get to the museum, depending on what route they took.

Then again, they should be here already. They had a better head start than the rest of us, I thought. I imagined all sorts of things that could go wrong, and none of it pleased my stomach.

Still, I kept my eyes on the courtyard in front of the building, hoping they would show up. I dragged a chair to the second-floor windows overlooking the entrance, just above the foyer. I had asked Peter and Haskell to park the vehicles at the back instead of the front to avoid unwanted attention (and our escape route if other survivors decided to attack the building). I kept reminding myself to be ahead of these things, expect the unexpected, or always had five different plans for the same goal. Frankly, I was starting to crash from the weight of it.

I dragged a chair from the cafe, put it by the window, sat down, and kept telling my mind to relax. But how could I with everything that's going on? It was a lose-lose situation. I tried not to let my thoughts wander off to Logan.

He's a bag I was not willing to open for now.

"Everyone, stay close to the foyer," Edgar barked from below. "This building is huge, and we don't know what else could be lurking around the corner."

"Better to be safe than sorry," Paloma added.

"Aw, Pal, but I've never been here before!" Monica flicked a brochure she found from one of the gift shop racks. "There are so many exhibits about the Battle of Gettysburg, the battle that clinched the defeat of the south!" Monica laughed, reading from the front page.

"Come now, Monica..."

Monica kept laughing and threw the brochure to the side. "Pssh, easy, girl! I'm just fucking with you. You know I hate museums."

Not far from them, I saw Deon knelt in front of Nash, who pulled his knees close to his chest, giving him the bad news of Darren's death. They were pledges together (based on what I pieced from the brief conversations I had with Deon), and they were pretty close friends. The only comfort I could give him was that Darren died quickly, though Deon and Noodle didn't tell him that the sniper let Darren bleed out first before the finishing shot. The devil was always in the details.

I caught sight of Peter stalking around the perimeter, making sure no one had followed us. He'd be out there for a while before he would report back to me; I didn't spot anything out of the ordinary.

Footsteps to my right, light and cautious, but it was there, echoes from the soles squeaking against the marbled floor. I swiftly turned around, and Jun froze mid-stride like a deer on headlights.

I couldn't help but grin. It was the first time I actually caught the little fucker sneaking up behind me. But then he could just be comfortable enough not to be given we were behind safe walls. Nevertheless, Jun never let his expression falter that he just lost in this silent, one-sided game of ours.

"Any news?" I asked, turning back around to face the window.

"The building is clear. But I saw some signs that the military had used it at one point, but other than that, nothing. It didn't even look like the vectors had been in the area yet," said Jun.