It seemed that if I was going to make any progress with this zone, it would not be through the new emperor. As for his chief adviser, I wasn’t certain. Chasing after them and shouting would only make me look weaker in their eyes, so I’d have to back off for now.

I wandered down the streets, realizing that I’d need to go deeper into their residential areas and away from the festivities if I wanted to get an honest view of how the virus was affecting them. The market was a place everyone traveled to, so it was only natural that it would be full of healthy people capable of participating.

“I won’t lecture you, but do you think you might have handled that a bit better?” Ghost asked quietly, perched on my shoulder again.

“Don’t know. Maybe?” I said, distracted by my attempts to navigate the confusing layout of a zone I’d never been in before.

I’d been looking for what I expected to be a busy, large, overflowing hospital—something like I’d found on the temple grounds of the previous zone.

“Excuse me,” I said to an elderly woman passing by.

She had been in deep concentration, pulling a covered cart behind her.

“Excuse me,” I repeated.

When she finally heard me and looked up, I saw that her eyes were swollen. She was under a lot of stress and had clearly been crying.

She took one look at me, lowered her head, and began walking faster as she passed me in the street.

“She was in no mood to talk,” Ghost said.

“Odd, considering the festivities, isn’t it?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t go as far as to call it odd.”

We continued walking, and it wasn’t long before I passed a young man pulling a similar cart. He couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen years old.

I smiled, but he did not smile back. It seemed anyone who wasn’t actively taking part in the festivities had little reason to smile here.

“Excuse me. Sorry to bother you,” I said, slowly changing my walking path so that I would be directly in front of him. Based on how he kept his head down, he had no intention of talking to me either.

He looked up at me, clearly annoyed. He huffed, then turned his cart to go around me, but I stepped in front of him again.

“What do you want?” he asked, lowering the cart to the ground.

“Could you direct me to where your sick are being cared for?”

He tilted his head and scrunched his eyebrows together.

“What?” he asked.

“Your hospital, or clinic, or whatever your word for it is. Where all your sick people are taken to be cared for.” I tried to clarify as best I could, unsure where the miscommunication was.

“Are you from somewhere else? We don’t have anything like that here.”

Ghost finally spoke up, startling the young man.

“I remember reading something about this. The sick are cared for by their families, and sometimes many families live in the same home.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“That falcon can talk!” he said, taking a step back and bumping into the cart behind him.

He picked up his cart again and rushed off, almost running with it.

I looked up at Ghost, eager to capitalize on the opportunity.

“Not to lecture you or anything, but do you think you could’ve handled that a bit better, Ghost?”

He glared at me.

“Fine. I deserved that.”

“No, you may be right. That means we’re not going to have an easy time determining the number of sick in this zone.”

“The virus has the potential to be very progressed because of the time that has passed, but with so many random behaviors, it would be difficult to speculate.”

I sighed, rubbing my temples.

“I’ll bet their government is keeping a closer eye on things and has at least somewhat accurate records. Though, I think I’d like to know the full story behind Adversity Management first. Something doesn’t really add up there. How many times have we seen them willingly subjugate themselves to the puppet leader of a zone?”

“Seems an unlikely story, doesn’t it?” Ghost replied, tilting his head.

“Unlikely? I’m not sure that’s the word I would use. Unprecedented, for sure, and also kind of unbelievable.”

“Do you think they’ve been disposed of by some other nefarious means, like with Sheriff Eric?”

“Maybe…”

I sat in the street, leaning against an empty cart. So many carts. Every home had a cart in front of it.

“The simplest solution would be to look for a cat or dog. Human members of Adversity Management will blend in. The Explorers League units I spoke with made it clear that machine units have not expanded out this far yet.”

“Yet…” I repeated, hugging my knees to my chest.

“The Explorers League is working on the machine problem so you can focus on the virus. Trust them to do their work,” Ghost said, almost sternly.

“I do trust them, Ghost. That doesn’t make me worry less. I haven’t seen Kelin and the others since the collapse. I haven’t seen Ferris since long before that. And Frelya…” I paused, sensing my voice breaking. “It’s not their competence I’m worried about, but their safety.”

“Kelin is still alive and in good health.”

“Really? That’s reassuring.”

“Ready to turn your attention back to the task at hand?”

“What would I do without you, Ghost?” I said, smiling as I stood and watched. Another cart was being pulled down the street. This time by a middle-aged man who looked as though he hadn’t slept in a very long time.

I waved, stepping out and greeting him. “Hello. I’m sorry to bother you.”

He stopped and stared at me, as if I’d already worn through his patience long before I ever met him. I waited, giving him a moment to speak. He didn’t, so I carefully continued.

“There’s a plague or sickness. I’m not sure how you refer to it here. I’m traveling around to different zones trying to help however I can.”

He continued to stare at me, but something changed in his expression. Suddenly, he seemed more alert. He had more energy.

He screamed, running at me with both hands aimed at my throat. As he stepped close enough to grab me, I took hold of his wrists and spun him to the ground. He was tired, drained, weaker than a man his age should have been.

He fell to the ground, rolled once, and then got back on his feet. He ran at me again. This time, I met him with more force, throwing him over my shoulder and slamming him hard onto the stone below. As his lungs expelled much of their air, he groaned, slow to get up this time. Ghost had flown a few feet away and was standing quietly, not wanting to distract me.

The man spat, taking hold of the cart and pulling himself up. He grabbed the sheet and yanked it to the ground.

There, in the cart, was a young boy. He couldn’t have been more than ten years old. He’d died within the last day. Seeing it was surreal. I’d expected to turn away or perhaps burst into tears, like the first time I saw such a thing—or maybe the fifth, tenth, or hundredth…

Instead, I felt almost numb—angry, frustrated, and helpless. I couldn’t blame him for blaming me. I certainly couldn’t blame him for blaming PanTech. This was their fault. As part of PanTech, it was also my fault. Even if I’d tried to stop them, I failed. Much of the blame rightfully belonged to me.

But that wasn’t helpful. It didn’t aid me at all in my mission to bring relief to as many people suffering from this as possible.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said, my voice sounding colder than I intended. I was sorry. I’d like to believe I couldn’t imagine what it felt like to go through something like this, yet I knew it all too well.

His face contorted briefly, as if he might come after me again, but something inside him changed direction. He no longer looked at me. He simply covered the cart and went about his business. His head hung down, and his steps were heavy. Perhaps he’d realized it wasn’t really me he was angry with, but the world.

Ghost returned to my shoulder, but before either of us had the opportunity to comment on what had just happened, I heard more shouting from further ahead.