DAY 9: April 17th, Saturday

I never had a breakfast fit for royalty, and Miguel delivered.

Miguel woke up earlier than the others. Granted, he was the first to hit the sack before everyone decided to stay for the night in the mansion. So, Miguel used the perishables we collected, one that we couldn't bring with us through the journey toward Albany, and made a grand meal fit for a king and his family. He had to feed fourteen people, he told himself, so he tried to make as much as possible with the ingredients. He only used about half of the perishables we had collected yesterday.

I awoke to the smell of bacon, garlic bread, meats, coffee, and pancakes, mingling into a delightful aroma. Everything smelled terrific when you were famished. Logan was the first to get out of the bed, stretching with a loud yawn. Then, Logan pinched his nose at me and waved his hand as if something was smelly. He pointed at his mouth and then to me.

I groaned, turned to my side, and saw that Luke was still asleep. I threw a pillow at Logan. "Quit it," I said. "I don't smell anything."

I missed; the pillow fell an inch to his right.

"Because it's your breath, stupid," Logan said.

I opened my mouth and breathed out as much air as I could. He flinched away, and I smiled. That should teach him.

I did not want to get up. I felt a strain under my waistband, and I did not want to push off the blankets and let freaking Logan see all of that. Instead, I drew them closer, hiding my reddening face. Logan tiptoed to the bathroom for a quick piss, returning into the room to dress up. He didn't shy away from taking his clothes off until he was naked. I closed my eyes, burying myself with pillows as he dressed up into the combat uniform.

"See you at breakfast," Logan said, chuckling. He pointed at Luke. "You might have to take care of that."

I did not want to know what he was pointing at.

A few minutes after Logan got up, Luke and I went down to the kitchen to find Margot, Alfie, and Steve helped Miguel cooked breakfast with their own family recipes. The kitchen was massive, fit to work for the entire galley staff. There were two electric-heated stoves and two ovens built on the wall, so everyone had enough space to do what they wanted.

They laid all the food on the dining table, which could fit ten people at once, but we found a few chairs from the garage and made everyone squeezed in. I sat in front of Logan, but I couldn't meet him in the eye. Though he seemed to enjoy my embarrassment, wagging his eyebrows at Luke and me, and Luke was still oblivious.

"This will be our breakfast, lunch, and dinner," said Miguel excitedly. "I already brought the Tupperwares out so that we can store the leftovers and eat them if we feel like it during our drive. These things will last us maybe a day or two. We can bring coolers to preserve some of them longer."

"How long have you been awake preparing all this?" Aria asked in amazement.

"Did you plan this all out?"

"Aren't you tired?"

"Thank you, Miguel."

"And there are sweets!"

"Where on earth have you found all this?"

I heard people called out across the table all at once, stuffing themselves with a mouthful of Miguel's delicious recipes.

"Two hours, give or take. Even if it took that long, I loved every minute of it," Miguel said, grinning. I smiled, knowing that he was downplaying how excited he really was of cooking without restrictions from the diner's menu he used to work for. This morning, Miguel made what he always dreamed of cooking.

More people voiced their compliments across the table, and others were spouting off long-forgotten memories of recipes that their mothers made that they wished Miguel could recreate. Still, I didn't think Miguel could replicate a recipe based on someone's mind. If he could, I hoped he could make my father's baked ziti.

"Now, now, kids," Miguel grinned, quieting the table, "I wasn't alone! Alfie, Steve, and Margot were like my sous chef, station chef, and pastry chef. All honored arms in the kitchen."

"I've never seen you this amicable, Miguel," Logan said, laughing. "You are like the anti-Gordon Ramsey."

Alfie and Margot both gave a thumbs up across the table while Steve silently ate his pancakes and sausages, even though he was trying to hide his smile.

"Grandpa! You can cook?" Tessa asked incredulously that I caught Gabe's mouth hanging open, too.

Old Steve groaned, said, "I got to find a hobby after my retirement, bunny. I can't spend the past four years watching TV."

"Ew. Grandpa! Don't call me that. I'm not nine anymore," Tessa giggled.

I had bacon, of course, and took a bowl of fruits. Then, I had some waffles with butter and maple syrup on my plate. Next, I had chicken with paprika, wild rice with asparagus and carrots, and a steaming bowl of noodle soup with various vegetables, flank steaks, ginger, and mushrooms.

As my stomach filled, I had only eaten about a quarter of the food laid out on the table. I saw Margot's strawberry crepes, Steve's grilled and caramelized salmon steaks, and Alfie's mac'n cheese meat surprise, or so he called it. It had been a whole week since the outbreak had started, and it was the first time we'd ever had our bellies so full that all we could do was grin and thank everyone.

We made that morning our impromptu Thanksgiving feast.

There was a ding from the kitchen, and Margot went running off toward the oven. Margot then called everyone's attention, announcing, "I have made bread! Good for a long trek."

She laid down trays of two dozen brioche, pain aux raisins, and three loaves of whole wheat bread with walnuts and cranberries. We would then rationed these for the next few days as they could last longer. I had missed the taste of bread, and so did everyone around me.

For a brief moment, everyone had forgotten the troubles outside our windows, and I liked to imagine they had cherished this memory as I do now. With his talk of leaving once his leg healed, Armas was in good spirits with the others and probably thought it was a good thing he didn't go too early, else missed out on the feast. We tried to ignore the prospect that this would be the last home-cooked meal we would eat for the foreseeable future. Who knew how long we would eat one of these meals again? We were probably the luckiest survivors in the area.

We allowed Henry to eat as many sweets as he could. The little boy had seen so much death and chaos for a young age, losing his parents and his entire family, and this feast was the moment where he could be that kid again. Tessa was in a jovial mood, who had been bedridden for the past day due to her infected wound, but she still could not swallow much of the solid food. Though, she didn't complain about the hot stews and soup that Miguel specifically made for her.

"Did you have a good night's sleep?" Luke asked me.

I blushed and nodded.

"I saw you couldn't sleep, so I thought I should help you out."

"It seems to me like you needed it more than I did," I said, surprised that I could even muster such a thing.

Did everyone know what happened last night? Of course, Logan knew, but could everyone see it on my face? I had heard that people could tell by their faces if someone got lucky the previous night. By heard, I meant seeing it in various rom-com on TV and the movies. I looked around, but I surmised that no one knew except for the three men in that room. Luke did not know that Logan was awake that night. I didn't want to embarrass him, so I chose not to tell him.

"What were you two lovebirds whispering about?" Logan asked across the table.

I kicked his ankle, earning me a satisfying yelp. Felipe, who was sitting next to Logan, asked him what was wrong, and he just said he might have a hernia. Felipe told him to let Margot checked that out, and Logan just nodded, burying his mouth in a plate filled with strawberry crepes.

With Logan dealt with for the moment, I looked across the table and noticed that both Aria and Yousef had gone a lot closer than yesterday. So, maybe you could tell when something happened. Yousef seemed upbeat, one that could be described as glowing, so perhaps they did have sex. I wondered if Luke and Yousef talked and shared their rendezvous; after all, the two of them were best friends.

I decided not to bug Luke about it, but then I felt his hand on my lap, and I knew he wanted more of what we did last night while everyone was distracted.

Everyone was in a happy mood, so I liked to wallow in it a little more, and followed Luke up to our bedroom (with a warning glare I gave to Logan, which he understood with a cheeky wink), and gave Luke something he wouldn't forget in a long while.

——

As the clock struck ten in the morning, we went back to the campus for a two-hour survey mission. There were still things left around the academy that we could scavenge before leaving West Point for good. Aside from the few tents and gears, we found another working humvee and a military bus. We brought our haul before the time was up back to the mansion and placed them on the bus.

We stripped off the boat of any equipment that we could bring onto land. Gabe wondered why we would abandon it, but I told him that the army had been bombing boats that were heading upriver. I didn't want to risk them taking us out while we're below decks and then drowned inside the hull; Not a good way to go.

There were nine of us disguised in the uniforms.

Aria had finally found the blouse that would fit her (and the trousers to match it), and I made Alfie and Gabe shaved their beard and ordered Alfie to cut his long hair so that he could also wear one. Alfie didn't seem to mind; then I realized he probably thought he stood a chance if he was dressed up as a soldier rather than a civilian. Though Gabe was pushing to his thirties, he still looked young to be mistaken as a fresh-faced cadet once he got rid of his facial hair. Alfie and Gabe had little knowledge of how to use a rifle, but I gave them a quick rundown, ensuring their safety was on so that they wouldn't accidentally shoot their feet. All they had to do was pretend they knew how to use it if another group tried to mess with us.

No one wanted to deal with a well-armed, well-trained squad of soldiers, even if you were a well-armed survivor. But we still posed as tempting targets with our haul of supplies and weapons. I promised myself that I would not let that happen.

We would pretend to be a military convoy heading toward Albany. Thankfully, Armas had remembered where the various checkpoints were planned, and we had made our own route using the backroads, avoiding as much of the checkpoints toward the city.

Except for the bus, the two humvees we were bringing with us were now equipped with the machine guns we found in the armory, placing them up on the turret. We also filled the tanks from the abandoned gas station in the middle of the village, which was still undiscovered by looters.

Luke, Logan, and I would drive the first humvee, leading the convoy. Yousef, Aria, and Miguel were in the second one, while Alfie and Gabe would protect the bus where most of the others were, including our supplies.

By noon, with at least eight hours of daylight left, we were on our way to Albany, driving up the exit ramp onto 9W Highway.

"How long until we'll reach the city?" Logan asked me. Luke was behind the wheel.

"By nightfall, hopefully. If there's heavy traffic..." I said. "...Might be tomorrow. But we're using the backroads so, that would take longer."

We would be driving into territories that are sparsely populated, some of which didn't even know that there was a major pandemic going on or were oblivious to it. We had to take things slow, scout out roads if there were checkpoints we don't know about, or better yet, make sure that no one spotted us. The less we bring attention, the more we find no trouble.

I added, "We had to stop by the small towns to get some gas. I don't think they'll be available if everyone is in a rush to escape the same area."

"Yeah. I hoped we don't have to get there on foot. That will be horrible."

I saw Logan shuddered on the rear-view mirror. "What is it, Logan?" I asked.

"Don't know," he said. "What if the city isn't there anymore by that point?"

Luke and I turned to glance at him. "What makes you say that?"

"We're all betting that Albany is safe, well, for the meantime anyway. We already suspect that it'll be a trap for the other survivors once the virus gets out of control. What if the city isn't there already? Millions of vectors that survived New York are coming north."

"Gabe and Miguel had checked the radios on the boat. There were no new updates about the safe zones," I said. "Albany remains the only one in hundred-and-fifty miles. What do you have in mind?"

Logan looked out the window. "We can drive west. As far as we can go until we reach Oregon."

I sighed. "They already set up a militarized border. We can't just drive out that easy."

"Yeah. Before. But we're well-armed now."

"If we do that, Logan, half of us are going to die."

Logan scoffed. "I know. But is there a big difference between that and a city filled with vectors?"

I didn't have an answer for him. Part of me already knew that we were on a losing trajectory, one I hadn't yet accepted for myself.