“Sorry!” Elliott yelled back as the RV coasted to a stop at the top of the ramp.

He got as far as Marietta Street before the roads were completely blocked. He pulled the RV into an alley. About half the people on board rose and moved to the door. Sam and Adam were among those who were going to stay. If things went as planned, Elliott would be back soon and they’d all be leaving together.

He looked at his neighbors and their teenage children, wondering what they were about to confront. Were they ready? He had no idea, but he knew they had no choice.

“You have your sticks?”

The question was met with yeses and nods.

“Good. Let’s try to stay together.” He held up a can of orange spray paint. “Remember the breadcrumbs if we get separated.”

After the others exited, he walked back to Sam and Adam. The boy was lying on the RV’s bed with several other younger kids who were sick, all playing portable video games. To Sam, Elliott said, “I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.”

Tears welled in her eyes. He pulled her into a tight hug, reached over and tousled Adam’s hair, then made his way outside.

He and his neighbor Bill covered the monstrous vehicle with several tarps. Elliott’s fever had been low-grade this morning, and to his relief, he was feeling pretty good at the moment. The adrenaline was likely helping.

Elliott gathered everyone around him. It was cold in the alley, and his breath came out in a puff of white steam.

“Remember, the knock is three raps, pause, then two, then one. Three-two-one. We’re going to wait here until all of us report back. There’s food in the RV, blankets too. Use the portable batteries and electric heater if you need them. Try not to crank it unless you have to.”

Elliott looked each one of them in the eye. “Okay. Good luck.”

On the buildings flanking the alley, he spray-painted a large E. As they walked, he put the same mark on every building they passed. It felt strange, painting graffiti all over downtown Atlanta, but he hoped it might get one or more of his people back. He expected some or all of them would be in a very bad mental state when they returned.

The streets were packed with people on foot, just like them, hiking toward downtown and the Georgia Dome, looking for their loved ones, or the cure, or both. Many carried guns and knives, while others simply jammed their hands in their coat pockets, trying to stay warm.

When Marietta Street met Northside Drive, Elliott heard the roar of heavy machinery. To his right, two bulldozers were pushing cars to the side, clearing a path. A front-end loader bounced along behind them. Two pickup trucks brought up the rear. Men in the beds held rifles.

One of the men called to the crowd.