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previously come, Remmy dove into the undergrowth and scrambled towards the nearest copse of trees. Thorns and dead branches ripped at his back and arms, but Remmy had no time to think about such minor injuries. He needed to avoid the Reds and to warn everyone in his camp, warn his parents.
    A loud crash echoed through the field, followed by the groan of metal twisted to unnatural angles and the scattering of glass. Remmy’s head bumped into the thick trunk of an old pine. Without looking back, he leapt into the branches and climbed higher and higher. Trees were not the perfect hiding place, but Remmy had never seen a Red try to climb one, let alone succeed.
    The mangled remains of both the vehicle and the Reds were strewn about the field.
    “Must have crashed into each other,” Remmy panted as he steadied himself on a limb. At least the threat was gone. Whoever had been in that long, strange car wasn’t so lucky, but Remmy tried not to think about them.
    Then he heard her. A thin wail echoed from inside the twisted wreck. A girl’s voice, desperate for help and raw with pain, cried out to anyone who could hear. Remmy hesitated. There was no way to know who this girl was or if she was ERC. As Remmy saw another tangled mass of Reds cresting the top of the nearest hill, heading directly towards the wreck, those concerns no longer mattered.
    Before he knew what he was doing, Remmy had dropped from the safety of the old pine and was heading directly towards the crash.

 
    -4-
    The ride to the Stele had been pretty much, what Cora expected. Her brother lost in a video game, her mother ignoring them, looking up only to bark an order or two and Cora silently sitting in the limo, wishing she were anywhere else. She hated the Stele. It was the main city and filled with countless monuments to her grandfather. A large stone slab stood upright in the center of the Stele, giving the city its name. The image of Cora’s grandfather was carved into the stone with an inscription commemorating the date he unveiled the Em-Pak and become an ERC saint. This was where Cora’s father would stand to deliver his speech and where Cora would have to perform for the masses.
    Cora knew that her Em-Pak dulled her emotions, so she could only imagine how excruciating a family road trip would have been without one. Moments like these were the fleeting few where Cora was actually glad to have the stupid thing. Otherwise, her thoughts would inevitably wander to contemplating what life would feel like without the Em-Pak. Cora knew that it would be a very short life, thanks to the Reds and virus, but still she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to feel. Would things be different? Did the Emos that he r father called terrorists and hated so profoundly really know something she didn’t? Was the risk worth it?
    The limo’s soundproof cabin prevented Cora and her family from hearing the cries of the Reds as the y closed in on the vehicle. Up front, their security officer pressed the correct buttons to override the guidance system. A machine wouldn’t be able to evade these things. There was no rational pattern to Reds’ behavior, so programming a guidance system to evade them was essentially impossible. All ERC vehicles with clearance to travel between cities were equipped with an override, allowing the security officers to take control, but never had it been used to avoid this many Reds.
    The thick glass divider slid down, revealing the security officer’s panicked look. “We’ve got a problem,” he croaked. Seconds later, his Em-Pak chirped loudly and he appeared calm. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Eldritch, I’ll get us through this.” He pressed the button to once again raise the tinted divider, but not before Cora saw a massive knot of people bearing down on their car. They looked wild, screaming and waving crude weapons. Their faces were all set in the same feral expression of rage and washed in crimson hues. Reds.
    “Mom?” Cora