“You know, we are only about a half hour away from Washington D.C. if we go by car…” Jack trailed off in an attempt to hint at Ryder. Ryder simply shrugged, not really caring. He knew it was safer by foot; he would rather take his chances that way.

“Skylar, is that you clicking?” Jack asked cautiously. Ryder halted suddenly and put his fist up to sign for us to stop. We counted one click. Quietly, we drew our weapons from their holsters. Our fingers curled sternly around the trigger as we shuffled forward. The handguns guided our eyes with every slight sound. I could hear a low grunt and the rustling of garbage falling on top of itself in a nearby alley. I tapped on Ryder’s shoulder and threw my head to the left towards the origin of the sound. His light green eyes darted to see none other than a Wiked. Flesh barely clinging to its pearly bones - must be newbie. The new ones were the most hungry. It was hunched over a dented cylinder trash can, the bones scraping against the metal. Jack rests the back of his hand against his lips in an effort to mask the smell of a decaying corpse.

Jack sucked in a breath and stalked around with the a angry grasp on his nail impaled wooden bat. With a cough, the creature shot up and stared at him with black spheres, its grin lathered with blood from the previous victim. Without hesitation, Jack took a hard swing at the Wikeds head, sending it skipping a few feet. The thing let out a horrifying screech just before the blow. Echos of the other Wikeds in the area started getting louder.

Ryder grasped onto my upper arm hard. I looked up to see a panicked expression on his face. Ryder took in a sharp breath, “Jack, we gotta go!” With that cue, our feet took off in a random direction together. Luckily for us, the creatures didn’t catch our scent and we let our brains catch up to our trembling bodies. Jack let out a relaxed sigh and pulled out a tattered, marker littered map. He stuck his nose close to the paper and then peered over at his compass.

“It appears that we are on the outer parts of Arlington, Virginia,” he smiled up at us, re-positioning his glasses once again.

“That means...” Ryder carried out his ‘s’ waving his hands in a carry on motion.

“It means, Sir Lancelot, that we are around an hour out from our capital!” Ryder gave an excited smile and sped up his pace. Jack and I trailed behind just a few feet. Jack turned his head slightly to me and whispered, “I’ve never seen the macho man so excited.” I gave a nod in agreement. Ryder had more of a reason to find a cure than the rest of us. Ryder came home from overseas only knowing that a virus had broken out through the nation. The military wanted their elite soldiers to be in the best of health and would do anything to keep it that way. The government went as far as assassinating his whole family to keep him from Motrisus. He never hated this country before that day. The rumor was that there was no cure and Jack and I tended to believe that. Ryder, on the other hand, didn’t trust his government and was on a mission to get to the bottom of this. The man was sick and tired of being lied to and betrayed by the country he fought for. They killed his dog, Jericho. Ryder never really had much of a family because he was given up for adoption. When he was 18, he enlisted in the military. Ryder's mission was cut short because of the outbreak. Ryder rescued Jericho soon after getting back and the two became inseparable. Unfortunately, the government wasn't done with Ryder. They asked Ryder to spread the disease by dropping the gas over a town in an aircraft, and when he refused, the official put a bullet in Jericho's head. It's just sick to kill a dog.

“Hurry up, slow pokes,” Ryder exclaimed, knocking me out of my trance.

The minutes inched by as we walked passed abandoned cars sleeping on the endless strip of bridge connecting the two states. It was oddly quiet, no Wikeds anywhere to be seen. It was strange. Ryder didn’t seem to mind as he kept his steady pace in front. Jack had his thumbs linked under his backpack straps and he was staring up at the partly clouded sky. It almost felt… normal. Normal as if we were just hikers passing by. It felt nice. I missed the feeling of being normal. If you were to tell me a year ago I said that, I wouldn’t believe you. I was that girl in high school that wanted to stand out but not be noticed. Thinking back on it, I realized how stupid that sounded. I would be the girl to wear the short black skirts that barely covered my butt and tuck in my ‘Hate U 2’ sweater. I would wear black knee-high socks and matching converse. I remember that outfit so vividly because it was the last normal day of my life.

I was brought out of my thoughts, again, by Jack yelling, “I see it! I see the Washington Monument! Oh, look how beautiful she looks.” Jack was always one for history. He longed to know the mysteries behind things in the past. It was fascinating to him that just a little rusted cowbell could tell the impacting story of the great fire that devastated Chicago. Jack knew random facts that didn’t seem to matter but became a larger topic. He knew how the metal coil, Slinky, came around. It was actually quite interesting. This man was trying to make a weapon for WWII and knocked over a spring and it slinked down his books.

I envied Jack for his knowledge, he knew so much. Without him, I would have been starving by now. He knew what plants to eat and which ones not to, how to purify water by boiling it. Boy Scout happened to be his nickname from Ryder.

Walking into our capital wasn’t like I had dreamed as a child. Growing up in a small town in Michigan, you don’t get out of the state much. I was told it was this city of history, of politics, of wonders. Flames masked once white buildings, cars are turned over, various American flags torn up over the blackened road. One caught my eye though. One flag was still flying up high on a balcony, ripped and burned, but still waving in the slight breeze. A sense of hope struck my heart. Hope that maybe there is a cure that is hidden.

We walked with cautious steps through the seemingly forgotten city just in case the boney freaks come out. No signs of any of them so far. Jack was off in his own daydream when he accidentally bumped into a parking sign, knocking it down. The ground under our feet began to rumble as the road in front of us sunk with a loud thud. There was a slight pause of silence and Jack let out a quiet ‘oops’. Just then a spine-chilling screech followed by fast paced clicks filled the area. Wikeds were sprinting in all directions towards us, letting out cackles as they ran. My hand was tugged by Jack down into the black tunnel below the city. The smell that filled my nostrils was fowl. My heart was racing, my body was numb. I couldn’t comprehend the pure fear seeping through my body. My mind was blocked by the extreme pitch blackness of the cement walls that trapped me. Ryder guided us through the numerous passageways until we came to a dead end at a locked door a pocket flashlight helped his actions. Ryder stuck the flashlight in his mouth and began tugging and pushing on the door. His kicks and bangs were no use for the steel door. Jack pushed him aside and directed Ryder to shine the light on the knob, in which Jack then took out two small tools. The waves of clicks grew near and I began to urge the brunette to go faster. With a laugh followed by a ‘got it’, we piled into the small room. Ryder let out a grunt and used his full force to slam the door shut. The crashing of bone on metal and moans came from the other side. I covered my mouth forcefully to keep in my sobs. I felt the warm tears weaving through my fingers.

The Wikeds soon gave up and our breaths became calm. I could feel Jack move and press himself against the wall. The sound of his skin against the rough pavement gave me the idea that he was looking for a switch.

“Aha! Found it,” Jack yelled slightly. A loud buzz echoed and bright UV lights snapped on above our heads. Jack turned to us with his hands resting on his hips. His accomplished stance was uplifting. I stood up but my head was directed to Jack as a cringing 'bang' filled the small room. I locked eyes with Jack, his brown pupils were wide in shock as his body leaned to the side, collapsing to the floor. I made an unforgiving scream as I fell to my knees by his paling body. My fingers laced into his brown locks that were becoming darker with the blood that poured from the hold in his temple. In the distance of my mind, I could hear a struggle and muffled yells from Ryder, I assumed as I gazed down at my friend, his glasses now had cracks through the lenses.