Rainie gave a startled little jump at the sound of a pair of small explosions. She and AJâ€™s head simultaneously swiveled in Nathanâ€™s direction. Did this guy ever take a break from blowing shit up? The Infected that remained on the street were drawn to the blasts, clearing Rainieâ€™s way. At least for a little while. With renewed urgency, she threw her legs over the ledge and edged her way into position from her precarious perch.<br/><br/>Adrian glanced at Nathan, a little surprised at the manâ€™s resourcefulness. AJ wasnâ€™t much of an engineer, but he knew enough about bombs that they were a bitch to make, especially when they were made of duct tape. A new, small flicker of respect reflected in his eyes, shielded by his black and red hair.<br/><br/>He glanced quickly up at his sister, clipping his bag on his shoulders. He knew that the hardest part was getting<span style="font-style: italic">on</span>the rope without slipping, especially with a completely vertical wall. Adrian heard Nathanâ€™s retreating footsteps and knew that the other man was heading for the door to downstairs. He watched with held breath as she slid over the ledge, gripping the cement with gloved hands. She shimmied over a few inches, and finally grasped the cable with both hands. The two of them stared at it, expecting it to come loose or some other horrendous event. But it held.<br/><br/>Adrian let out his breath in relief, and caught her eye. She gave him a thumbs up, and only then did he turn and head for the door.<br/><br/>---<br/><br/>The eight raiders were skulking along the catwalks steadily and quite affectively as they quietly made their way along. They were intent on their targets, more than eager to get their grubby paws on the vaccine. And they didnâ€™t give a damn how many survivors they had to kill to get it. Occasionally, two would dissolve the silence with hushed mutters about their mission, but otherwise the band was silent.<br/><br/>So they werenâ€™t expecting gunshots to ring out through the chilled, stagnant air. They even less expected one of their men to suddenly topple off the catwalk and into the East River. When the second man choked and collapsed, the remaining six hit the ground. On their bellies, they wormed their way with startling efficiency along the catwalk. They didnâ€™t even glance at their fallen companion. Just grabbed his rifle and hiking pack and carried on.<br/><br/>And he wouldnâ€™t actually bleed out for another few minutes. That was the thing about works of fiction. They never mention how long the wounded lay there and choke on the air. Sometimes, they suffer.<br/><br/>But anyways, the remaining raiders, with fresh enthusiasm, unlocked the locks, and fled to find cover. One of them, with the most vile and sinister grin on his stubbly jowls, lifted a radio to his ear to overhear Knightâ€™s transmission. He grinned and spoke to the others in low tones, and soon after disappeared amongst the tall buildings and streets.<br/><br/>---<br/><br/>Four heads snapped up at the sound of gunfire, all in unison. The soldiers didnâ€™t need to signal each other, only fell into step again, altering their course a miniscule degree to reach their target. Their masked faces swiveled constantly, on the watch for anything and everything.<br/><br/>Fallon turned his eyes toward an alleyway, and nodded for the others before vanishing through it. They walked a ways, popping out of the alley and out onto the street again when the radio of one of the men buzzed with crackling static of an open channel.<br/><br/>"Pier One is sabotaged. I fired shots and it attracted a mass of infected the surrounding area is relatively clear. I suggest we meet at the Brooklyn Navy yard its about 10 miles northwest of Pier One."<br/><br/>The soldier looked at his comrades, a silent communication passing between them that only someone with the same bond that these four had could understand. Decided, he lifted the radio to his face and pressed a button.<br/><br/>â€œKnight Aareagow, terminate that. Stay where you are. En route to your position, with the vaccine. Repeat, stay where you are.â€<br/><br/>Without a word, the soldier in the lead began walking again, and the rest fell into line behind him, their eyes scanning and alert. Their steps in their awkward crouched position seemed slightly more hastened, hurrying toward their target with a subtle urgency.<br/><br/>---<br/><br/>Adrian and Nathan clamored down the stairs together, Adrianâ€™s long strides taking him down two steps at a time. He had caught up to Nathan on the third floor, and they were nearly out. One of them opened a door and they burst into a dusty room full of plastic crates and cardboard boxes. Without breaking his stride, Adrian weaved through the stacks, and came upon a body on the floor. He glanced at it, then went to hop over it...<br/><br/>When suddenly it<span style="font-style: italic">moved.</span><br/><br/>The body rose up on its elbows, moving slowly, awkwardly. It panted like an animal, growling deep in its chest as it worked on standing.<br/><br/>Adrian didnâ€™t give it a chance. In a flash his knife was in his hand and he brought it down with a speed and strength that belied his lanky frame. The blade sunk into the deadheadâ€™s skull with a sickening<span style="font-style: italic">thuck.</span>It gurgled shortly before going limp. Adrian wiped the brain matter and blood off of the cold metal with the Infectedâ€™s own shirt in a swift motion, then hopped over the body and made for the door.<br/><br/>More stairs, another door. Cold gray eyes cut around the second floor, noting no bodies in the dimness. He jogged passed desks and skipped around an overturned chair, his boots kicking up dust from the wood floor. He grabbed the knob of the next door. As an afterthought, he said, â€œStill with me?â€ He glanced back at Nathan, who was keeping up with him rather well. â€œYup. Good.â€ Then threw the door open and darted into the first floor.<br/><br/>The room was clear, thanks to Nathanâ€™s little bombs. Grimly, Adrian realized the guy was actually useful for something. He snorted lightly at the thought, and leapt through the broken window-wall into the street. The glass had been busted in, again, likely from the explosions. The two men stuck to the shadows and used cars as cover as they made their way toward the bus Rainie would be at.<br/><br/>Adrianâ€™s movements were less like his usual, confident stride. More anxious, more rushed. He weaved toward the Grey Hound bus speedily, almost recklessly, his ears straining. His boots seemed like pounds of a bass drum in his ears as he tried desperately to catch a specific sound.<br/><br/>Finally, he heard it. His sisterâ€™s faint, dulcet humming of â€˜London Bridge.â€™<br/><br/>Relief pounded through him. She hadnâ€™t fallen. She was alright. He looked up at the bus, only not to find her there. Had she climbed down herself? Jeez, that chick was scary good. Adrianâ€™s head swiveled, searching.<br/><br/>â€œSheâ€™s around here somewhere.â€ He muttered half to himself, and half to Nathan.<br/><br/>Rainie stopped humming when she heard Adrianâ€™s quiet mumbling. She was tucked into an alcove of a doorway, safe out of sight. Sheâ€™d even pulled her hood up to shield her ostentatious hair. She gripped the lead pipe sheâ€™d found on the sidewalk in her right. She had already made use of it once. The body lay on the pavement a few feet from her, the skull crushed and gore seeping from its mangled head.<br/><br/>Finally Rainie poked her head out from the alcove in which she was nestled. Adrian was glancing down the street, but she caught Nathanâ€™s eye immediately. She grinned at him.