Carrion (The Bren Watts Diaries #1)

Chapter 105

Day 91: July 8th, Thursday

By sunrise, Northumberland was burning, and so were the bridges over the river for miles. There was nothing left to cross over, even in the neighboring city of Sunbury.

"The military blew them all up," Alfie said in disbelief. "It's like New York all over again."

"Yes. It seems that way," said Peter begrudgingly. "And it looks like the horde had beaten us. I told you we shouldn't have taken that many rests."

Jun shook his head. "No. Different horde."

"How can you tell?" I asked.

"They're still coming off from Route 11, from the north."

Jun was right. There were probably a thousand more just leaving the exit ramps toward downtown, reinforcing the enemy's ranks wandering across the streets. It was as if they were driven by a mad need for destruction as if those two-pupil eyes of theirs watched this burning city with glee, content in the death they had laid waste. We watched the chaos over the hill leading into Sunbury, scanning the horizon with our binoculars where we saw the bridges' debris mangled underneath the river's fast current; some of the beams hanging from the support were still on fire. Vectors shrieked and growled together as if cursing at the military for burning it all down.

We didn't just hear the vectors' screeches; there were survivors still left down there, pulled apart, root and stem. Gunshots rang out, which was often followed by screaming that were cut out mid-cry.

Across the river, the soldiers watched.

"What the hell are they doing?" Miguel asked.

I grabbed the binoculars from his hand and surveyed where they were. I guessed it must be a company-worth, with three hundred or so soldiers camped from the town of Shamokin Dam. Billows of thin smoke came out from within their side, some in the woods, others in the town, which were probably campfires, I reckoned. They had probably set up snipers watching us right now, staring at them. Maybe I should do a little wave, let them know I'm still human? Ha! What am I saying? They'd probably just shoot me and be done with it. I doubt anyone on their side would argue against it.

"They're making sure nothing went across the water, forming up some sort of perimeter along the shore, I sai.d "I doubt the vectors can do much with the current, but they were never good swimmers, to begin with. Plus, it's a mile across."

Peter nodded. "Makes sense. These are the only major towns on this side of the river for miles."

"Can we just...swim?" Alfie asked.

Peter laughed. "Sure, pal. It's a mile wide, so that would be thirty, no, forty minutes tops to swim across? Then, you'd have to contend with the current, the rocks hiding underneath, the gear and supplies that we have to carry, and not to mention the soldiers who won't hesitate to shoot our ass, human or vector...."

"Okay. Okay! I get it. No need to rub it in."

Peter merely grinned and gave Alfie a pat on the back.

I gave the binoculars back to Miguel and whirled around, heading toward the RV. There, Yousef was busy pouring over the map. "They haven't taken the south yet. Yousef, can you find where the next bridge is?" I asked.

"Uh...hold on. Ah! Yes. Clarks Ferry Bridge. If we follow Route 147, it's about, er, forty-five miles downriver—"

"Forty-five—!" I stifled my anger, almost bubbling into a shout. Could this day not get off to a good start for once? "Alright. Then, we'll head there. What village?"