Epicenter of the Damned (Phoenix & Gwyn the Green)

[PhoenixRising82]

Pia’s cheeks puffed out softly, blowing a silent sigh of air out as the quartet moved through the landscape. Her dark eyes stared ahead as she moved, watching the pair in front of her. Giggling as they snuggled all up on each other.

She felt a large hand fall against her shoulder and a quiet, deep chuckle sounded in her ear as the eldest of their small group stepped up next to her.

”No worries, little lady. You’ll find your own love one day.”

She glanced back at the lesbian couple, a faint smirk on her lips as she shook her head.

”That’s not what’s bothering me, Ran. When it comes to couple goals, I look to you and Nita for that.”

She tossed a cheeky smile in his direction before pointing to the two eighteen year old girls as one pushed the other up against a tree a few feet in front of them, making more noise than they should be.

”It’s that....I could care less about the PDA but they’re young and can’t keep damned well quiet when they should. This isn’t a romantic haunt through the city. No idea why your wife thought it was a good idea to send them out. I mean, I get it, everyone does their part and all but.....”

She blew out a frustrated sigh and as they drew closer, she nudged one of them on the shoulder.

”Hey, could you two please pipe down and focus. If you don’t, you’re gonna get eaten alright and not in the way you hope.”

She snorted morbidly and stomped forward. The college wasn’t too much further ahead and she just wanted to get what they needed, which was basically anything they could find and carry that might be of use but there were a few things she hoped to find in particular and get back to the house that constituted camp.

The girls rolled their eyes and sighed, pushing away from the tree, they fell in step behind her with Randall bringing up the rear of their group.

Their silence was golden but didn’t last all that long. As soon as they were half way across the campus, their chatter started up again. Bemoaning too loudly for Pia’s liking on how they’d missed the opportunity to attend college much less finish and graduate high school.

Pia had had enough by the time they reached the first building. She stopped just before turning a corner to the front of the monolith of education. Her eyes boring heatedly at the two girls, back and around Randall, who’d gotten in front of them as they’d made their way across the open and clear expanse of dead grass.

”Seriously you two. Quiet. Discuss it when we get back to the house but for now could you please, shut the fu....”

Her words cut short as Randy grabbed her shoulder quick and hard as his gaze drifted off over her head. He’d heard it, even over Pia’s whispered tirade. Pia had not immediately.

He was pulling her toward him when she heard the deadly growl of the walker, nearly right on top of her by that point. He wasn’t fast enough as the things gnarly teeth sank into his pinky and ring finger, missing her shoulder, the shoulder it had been going for initially.

She heard the squelch of dead skin and brain as Randall, despite his pain, stabbed the dead head through the top of its skull. All in a matter of seconds. Pia barely blinked or breathed until she heard the body hit the ground behind her.

After a second, she gasped, her head whipping back to see a second one shambling their way. While she wasn’t the most proficient at fending them off, she did well enough when need be. The two girls were of no use as they huddled whimpering against each other as they watched Randall slump back against the brick, clutching his hand against his chest.

She felt the blood seeping into her jacket as she snatched the knife from Randy and planted it hard and fast through the shambling woman’s ear, almost toppling with herself before she could loosen the weapon and pull it free.

She stood for a second, panting as her gaze dragged over the landscape and the road just beyond at the front of the school, for the time being, she saw no other movement.

Straightening both her supply bag and the empty one she’d brought along to carry whatever they found, she swiped the bloodied blade against her pants leg and turned on her heels and stalked back around the corner to find the couple still clutching each other and inching away from Randall.

”He....he....it....it bit him! He’s gonna turn into one of those gross monsters now!”

One of the girls stammered. Pia glared at her, pointing the knife in their direction.

”No. He’s not. We’re going to fix him before the infection can set in.”

She snapped softly at the pair before kneeling beside Ran, her expression softening as she peered at him. He’d saved her and gotten bit in the process. She was feeling horrible about it but she knew she had to move quickly.

”Let me see.”

She asked, holding out her hand for his. Her lips pursing inward as she stared at the bite marks in the flesh. Starting just at the second knuckles, the bite missed the tip of his pinky but had sunk into the flesh just above the nail bed on his ring finger.

”You know what I’m going to have to do, Ran.”

He cringed in pain but nodded as he drew his hand back against himself. Her attention shifted to the girls as they continued to look on, horrified and as if Randall was already a walking dead monster.

”Amanda, I’m going to need your belt, sash, whatever it is. And I’m going to need the both of you to help me and hold him still.”

That went over about as well as she’d figured it would when they started shaking their heads adamantly about getting that close to him.

”Fine. Keep watch at least for any more dead things, hmm? Come on, Amanda.”

She held her hand out and curled her fingers in and out impatiently for the girls belt.

”Wha...what are you going to do?”

The girl asked as she tossed her belt at Pia.

”Stop the infection from spreading. Randy, I’m going to grab your belt too.”

Another nod of acknowledgement as she wrapped the girls belt around his wrist and tied it with a jerk, as tightly as she could. Placing his hand up against his chest, she told him to keep it there for now as she reached and unhooked his leather belt, pulled it from his waist and folded it in half.

”They are going to be of no help, I know it’s going to hurt but I’m going to need you to stay as still and quiet as possible, ok? And I’m going to be as quick as I can, I promise.”

Another nod and she returned it, holding the belt up to his mouth and let him bite down on it. Digging in her bag, she pulled a zippo from its depths. With a flick of the wheel, the flame sparked to life. She wasted little time holding the knife over the flame. Time seemed to slow as she waited for it to get hot enough. She was silent, listening intently to everything around her. Including the murmurs of horror from the girls that still hadn’t moved or made an attempt to watch for walkers or any other damned thing for that matter.

She snapped the lighter closed and set it at her feet, then grabbed Randall’s hand and set it flat on the ground. Shifting around, she knelt on her left knee, the right bent up against her chest as she set her foot down against the top of his hand. She cast him an apologetic glance.

”Ready?”

He swallowed thickly but nodded. She pressed her foot a little harder onto the back of his hand, tucking the tip of the knife just under his uninjured fingers, as close to the top of the fingers as possible and as she did, she heard a retch followed by a strained and distraught Oh hell no..... She glanced up to see the pair of lovers rushing away, back the way they’d come. Her brow furrowed but she didn’t have time to dwell on them leaving.

She leaned forward, one hand resting against the top of the blade, the other wrapped tightly around the handle. Thanking the heavens that Randall kept the knife sharpened, that and the heated blade would help slice as quick and fluidly as possible. She pressed her full weight against the knife, pressed until she felt the ground bite into the blade and watched the fingers pop bloodily forward. She felt her friend jerk beneath her foot and heard the deep and painful growling groan escape around the leather of his belt as he bit into it. She wiped the blade off again and instantly went to reheating the metal, this time the side of the blade and when it was hot enough, she pressed it against the two stubs that stared at her. Again, around the belt he exclaimed in pain. His back and neck stretching as he fought the urge to jerk away from the cauterization. Just under five seconds before she pulled it away from the wound, checking to make sure she’d stopped the flow of blood. Thankfully, she had. She’d have hated to have to repeat this. Randall was already looking at her with a glassy gaze.

”Stay with me, Ran....I’m not going to be able to carry you back all by myself, hon.”

She murmured as she dug through her bag once again. She had just a few big squares of gauze and no tape. She’d been hoping to find some here, in the nurses office.

When she looked back up at him, Randall had in fact not stayed with her. His head slumped back against the wall, his jaw lax as he drooled around the belt.

”Shit....”

She pressed her fingers against his throat, thankfully finding a still fairly strong thump along his veins. He’d passed out from the pain. She hoped the girls had learned enough to keep quiet on their way back to camp if they intended to survive and she truly hoped they made it back, no matter how pissed off she was that they’d fled to begin with. They’d be able to tell someone where they were and could send help.

In the meantime she needed to wrap his wound with what she had on hand for the time being. Once they made it back home, she’d be able to clean it and properly take care of it and hopefully minimize any terrible damage. She used the soft belt from his wrist as extra gauze and used it to keep it all in place as well.

Now, she just had to figure out how to get him into the school. He had a good hundred pounds on her on a good day, with him passed out, he’d be dead weight. They couldn’t stay out here though in the open, she knew that much.

She dropped the lighter, knife and his belt into her bag, situated it and the empty into the small of her back and began work on pulling him away from the wall. She had no blanket to put under him and pull him along, so it was going to be slow going and she knew it.

It wasn’t going to be as easy as moving a patient from a gurney to a bed, where she usually had help and it took all of two seconds to accomplish.

She sighed, licked her lips and rubbed her hands together, calling upon all the strength she could muster. She shoved her hands under his arms and curled them beneath and started the slow process of dragging him backwards, stopping to double check around the corner and make sure the way was clear to the door. Thankfully it was a small community college and consisted of one floor and no stairs leading to the doors. The distance looked immense but she was determined, even if she had to stop now and again. She knew she’d get there eventually.

 

[Gwyn the Green]

Max and John worked their way across the campus. They were both dressed in black, wearing Carhartt work pants and t-shirts. Police body armor was worn over the t-shirts with Carhartt long-sleeve work shorts over them. Their feet were clad in combat boots and they had hockey padding over their forearms and on the front and back of their lower legs. On their hands, they wore welding gloves with the thumb and first two fingers cut off. They both had large packs on their back, well organized, and a hunting knife, a pistol, and two extra clips on their belt, and they each wore a half-helmet on their heads. Overall, it screamed of uniforms carefully cobbled together.

John had point, which was usually the more difficult but also usually involved a squad watching your back. With just the two of them, trailing was the more dangerous position for exploratory operations. Not only did Max have three sides to watch, but he had to watch over John as well. Their progress was steady. John held a crossbow at the ready while Max carried a composite bow with an arrow notched. They had been part of a group that decided democracy was the best option. They were idiots, and when they voted to move into the city in order to live where the resources were, Max and John left. They’d followed up a week later. The group was still together, but they were all walkers.

They heard a scream and John froze. It was actually the right reaction; he’d only had a few weeks of training. Max caught up to him, tapped him on the back, and took lead. They were on a hunt now, and experience was needed in the front.

It didn’t take long for them to find the source of the screams. Two girls surrounded by several walkers. Before Max could get a count, he pulled John’s crossbow down. John scowled at him. Max pointed at the girls then brought his hand across his throat in a slashing motion. The girls were already dead and interfering would only endanger themselves. Max led them quickly away in the direction the girls had come from, rounding the first corner they could to get out of the line of sight of the walkers. It wasn’t long before they came across a woman dragging a man along the ground and making little progress. As the approached, still moving quietly, Max tucked the bow into a carrying case and slung the bag over the flack jacket he wore. John raised his crossbow, sweeping the area in 360 degrees to check for walkers before he brought it back to bear on the woman.

As Max approached, he waved his arms in the air to get the woman’s attention before he got close enough for her to attack. When their eyes met, he motioned for silence and slowly approached while John continued to watch the scene. Max noted the bandages on the man’s hand as he approached, though having been dragged along the ground, they didn’t like they were holding as well as they should.

“We can help,” Max offered in a stage whisper. “Is he...?”

 

[PhoenixRising82]

She’d stopped, settled Ran’s hand back up against his stomach again. Trying to keep it from dragging the ground as she drug him along. It wasn’t doing the wrap any good and she knew she’d have to fix it again once she got him into the building but she had to get him there first.

She let her unconscious friend lean back against her legs a second as she stood with a sigh as she brushed her hair back from her face. Contemplating a way to keep that damned hand of his from flopping back onto the ground. She didn’t have anything in her bag to make a make shift sling. His belt wasn’t long enough and she didn’t have a second one to make it long enough either.

As she stood trying to come up with something, she’d heard the screams. Her attention immediately drawn in its direction, a deep frown stitching across her features. Damn both of those girls, just Damn them both! If they’d only listened. With another sigh, she bent and went back to dragging Randall toward the front doors. The screams had been a little too close for comfort, which meant she needed to move.

She muttered a curse as his hand fell once again to the ground but this time she didn’t stop to lift it. If it dragged the make shift bandage off, so be it. She’d fix whatever she needed to later. Right now it was imperative she get them indoors and she wasn’t making the best progress in the world. Randall was fucking heavy.

From the corner of her eye she caught movement. Her heart skipped a beat as she was in mid-pull and couldn’t reach quickly enough for the knife in her bag without just dropping Ran unceremoniously. The movement was quick though and no usual death rattle sound accompanied it. Though that didn’t mean it didn’t propose any sort of danger to her and Randall.

Still bent, she continued to pull him back, her gaze rolling upward to find the source of movement. A man, coming toward her, waving his arms. He looked ready for battle but then again, so many did these days. He wasn’t racing toward her though, not in an attack sort of way.

With a soft grunt, she leaned the man back against her legs again and stood, staring directly at the man walking closer. She swallowed thickly before peering around him, spitting the other, as well as the crossbow that held her in its sights. She looked beyond even him however, the direction Amanda and her lover had taken off in and Pia idly wondered if these two men were the cause of their screams and not the dead seeking a meal.

When the one spoke, her attention shifted swiftly back to him, meeting his gaze head on, searching his features for any sign of threat from him and his friend or were they just being as cautious and weary as she was? She noted a weapon peeking from behind his shoulder, wouldn’t he have it trained on her as well if they planned any harm? She stared at him a moment longer before letting her eyes drop to Randall at her feet.

”Dead? No. Not yet but if those screams are any indication of what’s close by, he might be if I can’t get him inside and tend to him properly.”

Her words were directed at Max when he’d asked his question, the next however were directed at John.

”Who are we.....and could we possibly stop pointing that thing at me?”

A hand lifted, finger pointing agitatedly between the two of them and John’s weapon. Her brow wrinkling softly. And then both hands dropped, fingers splayed open toward Randall.

”No weapons readily available......what am I going to do? Throw him at you?”

She snarked quietly before returning her attention and a plea back toward Max.

”I could use some help getting him in there before we end up like I suspect those two girls just did.”

The fact that these two men had come from that same direction wasn’t lost on her and she still wasn’t entirely sure about these two but they were currently her only option at the moment.

 

[Gwyn the Green]

Max didn’t follow her gaze to John. He knew who was behind him. Instead, he kept his eyes on the woman before him and the apparently unconscious man. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen someone pretend to be injured to draw others in. He nodded at her then turned halfway toward John, his eyes never leaving the pair.

“Scan the perimeter. We don’t need anything sneaking up on us.”

John nodded and turned to scan the area around them, turning his attention back to the trio every few seconds. Walkers were dangerous, but their tactics were simple. Humans were canny and treacherous, though often preferred to walkers. He was hoping this wasn’t one of those times when the walkers were the preferred company.

“We saw the girls. They were too far away for us to help.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “They were surrounded, on the ground... There was no helping them. The screams were a dinner bell, so you’re right. We need to move.”

He stopped for a moment to look at the woman. She was dirty and tired, like anybody else on foot these days, but he could see the beauty behind all that. If nothing else, he wanted to get her to safety just to see if his estimation. Beauty was in rare supply these days. His eyes went to the man on the ground, and while there was nothing to suggest a romantic relationship, there was nothing to deny it, either. If that was the case, he was a lucky man.

“I’ve seen traps like this before,” he said, gesturing at the two of them. “Even set them a time or two. You’ll have to pardon me if I don’t take things at face value. Or not. Your choice.”

He scanned the area with trained eyes. The presence of to partially dismembered fingers and the bandage on the man’s hand told a story that was beyond the pale of most traps. It was enough to give him confidence that what he was seeing was genuine. Blood around the fingers sealed the deal. He nodded and turned back to the woman-that-should-have-been-beautiful.

He removed the bow and helped put it crosswise over her body before handing her a fairly large hatchet.

“I can’t carry the bow and your friend at the same time. The hatchet is ideal for cracking heads open. If we run into anything, let them get close before you attack. The walkers won’t defend themselves, so they should present an easy target. Don’t let them surround you or pull you to the ground and you should be fine. I’m putting my life in your hands, so for God’s sake, don’t panic.

“If you have a destination in mind, take point. Don’t get more than ten feet in front of me. John will have rear-guard.”

He turned to John, who was still 30 feet distant with his head on a swivel. “Hear that, John? Rearguard. Lady knows where we’re going: she’s got point.”

John nodded, and his deep voice rumbled quietly for the first time in this encounter. “Rearguard, aye. Lady’s got point.”

Max dropped to one knee before the black man and worked the man’s body over his shoulder before he stood, holding the man in a fireman’s carry across his back, his free hand pulling a knife out of his sheath and holding it at the ready. The man was dead weight and remained so. That was good. If he suddenly started struggling, Max would drop him like a hot rock and be prepared to go on the attack.

“Let’s get going. He’d not getting any lighter.”

 

[PhoenixRising82]

She didn’t flinch when he told her what he’d seen. Only a brief twitch and twist of her lips, indicating perhaps that she’d expected it. She’d told those two....or tried to tell them. Not that she was an expert in any of this but she’d tried, perhaps none to gently, to guide the girls and she’d failed. It was what it was.

She did flinch a little however when he pointed out his suspicions of their current situation being a trap. She couldn’t fault him though, hadn’t she just been wondering if he and his friend were here to do her and hers harm? She cleared her throat and nodded instead, letting him take the moment he needed to confirm that she wasn’t lying in wait.

And still, when he drew close and made move to put the crossbow over her head, she stiffened. Unsure at first as to what he was aiming to do. Her right hand drifting toward her bag, fingers snaking into its depths in search of the knife, the only weapon she did have on her. Granted, it wouldn’t do a lot of good but....if he had nefarious intentions, she had every intention of going down fighting if she had to.

Her search was halted when the hatchet was held out to her. Her gaze shifting down to stare at it a moment before she turned her gaze back up to him. Offering a faint, short snort as her lips curled at the corner.

”Lives I’m good at....”

She said simply before turning toward the school doors. Pausing to glance at him over her shoulder with a simple nod of her head. She knew of course, exactly where she wanted and needed to go. Inwardly, she cringed. She could feel the tension rising in her neck and shoulders at his very military like instruction.

She pursed her lips inward before letting her tongue drag across the dry skin of them. Stamping down the urge to question him. There were other things she needed to focus on at the moment and as of yet, he’d presented no threat to her or Randall but ask him she would, eventually.

”Tell me about it.”

She snorted at his comment about Ran not getting any lighter and turned back to the doors, making a beeline for them. She paused, leaning her face up against the glass nestled into the door, her eyes adjusting to the darkened hallway that stretched behind said doors. Searching for any movement within. School had been out when the outbreak had hit but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone in there, living or dead that would pose a threat.

Seeing Max’s reflection as he mounted the few steps behind her, she straightened and tugged on the door. She drew in a deep breath when it didn’t budge. Tugging a tad harder produced the same result and a frown. Well....that would have certainly made things a little more difficult to be sure.

Lifting the hatchet, she flipped it around in her hand and with a short, quick jerk of her wrist cracked the blunt end of its head against the glass just hard enough to shatter it. Tapping a few ragged, sharp pieces from the bottom of the window, she stuck her hand in and felt around until she found the deadbolt.

Sure, they could have searched for another, quieter way in but it would take time and there was no guarantee there would be another unobstructed way in.

She tugged on the handle again, a faint squeak coming from the hinges as the door opened this time and she stepped in and to the side. Her left hand, pressing the hatchet against the door, holding it open for Max to get through with Randall. Her right digging into her bag, blindly feeling around for the flashlight she’d brought.

When he was through with her friend, she made sure John was on his way in as well before she relinquished her hold on the door and started down the hall, flicking the light on as she moved.

Nita had explained to her that it was an older building, she couldn’t remember what it had been used for before it had become a college but she remembered the woman telling her that the nurses office was near the center of the building, adjacent to the main office.

As she approached the bend in the hall, she heard a scraping noise skittering across the floor somewhere beyond the bend. Her steps slowed, she switched the hatchet to her right hand and the flashlight to the left and she approached the second hall with quiet, cautious steps, peering around the bend into the second hallway.

Two glowing eyes greeted her with a ferocious hiss as a ball of fur and claws came racing toward her. Pia let out a scream, the sound echoing along the hallways and back pedaled, nearly colliding back into Max and Randall. The hatchet swinging at the bandit eyed critter that had taken great offense to them being in its space. Her swing nearly missed the raccoon all together, clipping its hip as it flew past her but not enough to stop the damned thing.

”Fucking raccoon!”

She growled, her head whipping around to see where it had gotten off to. Her cheeks red. Her heart pounding in her chest and ears. That hadn’t been what she was expecting, at all. But even over the rabbit like thumps, another sound drew her attention back down the longer hallway. A heavy thump against a door somewhere in the darkness beyond. Groans of the dead somewhere behind a closed door. That’s what she had been expecting, not a damned raccoon flying at her. She wouldn’t have panicked and screamed had it been a dead thing. She also wouldn’t have missed because it wouldn’t have been a quick and wily little trash demon!

She huffed, offered a small sniff as she lifted the flashlight and crept toward the corner once again. Aiming the light down the hall, she couldn’t see anything past where the light stopped but she could still hear the dead clambering to get out of whatever room they were locked in.

”Fantastic....”

She murmured. Mentally kicking herself for losing her shit.....over a raccoon. Nice, Pia. With a quiet glance behind her, she stepped around the corner and started down the second hallway. The office and nurses room should be about half way down the hall. She hoped that wasn’t where the dead were holed up. She let the light sweep back and forth over the doors they passed, the light bouncing off the small, slender glass set in each. She bit the inside of her lip as she fought the flashbacks that kept trying to creep in, images of Dr. Gallagher trying to....to chew his way through the same kind of window at the hospital.

She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until it escaped with a relieved and quiet, Ah ha! as her light fell on the placard that read “Office”. The sounds continued to echo, louder, along the hall, a bit further beyond the office door.

With caution, she crept up to the door, shining the light directly into the office doors small window. Sweeping the lightly slowly around in search of any movement. Seemed that for the moment, the only movement was their own and whichever room the dead were locked in.

Opening the door, she proceeded through with a weary caution still. Light sweeping over the counter that ran nearly the length of the room, the desks beyond it, still littered with their former occupants things. Pictures, folders. Phones. Knick knacks that leant a personality to whomever had sat at those desks. Dark computers.

To her right, the light glinted off the Nurse placard on another door. She had her hand on the handle and was about to throw it open but she stopped a second, listening. Theoretically no one should be in there but then again, there shouldn’t be anyone locked in whatever room they were in down the hall either. When silence greeted the soft tap she employed on the door, she slowly let it swing open, hatchet at the ready. Light flooding the obsidian that greeted them as the door swung inward.

She breathed a sigh of relief to see that it was empty and another when she spied the patient table near the back of the room.

”Put him there, please.”

She said quietly over her shoulder as she stepped in and started for the cabinets on the other side of the room.

 

[Gwyn the Green]

The woman’s reactions to the deaths of the girls told him that she wasn’t unfamiliar with death. She didn’t seem happy about the deaths, but he couldn’t much more than that. At least she wasn’t manic about the deaths. He’d met that kind; they were a danger to themselves and everyone around them. But, that she had been trying to save a downed man had already told him that she wasn’t rabid. Her reactions to his openly stating the threat of a trap were more telling.

He guessed she had been wondering if they were going to be aggressors, and as a woman alone, she has reason to be afraid. He’d lost track of the number of groups of men he’d heard about that treated women as chattel, cowing them with violence, with restriction of basic supplies, and with drugs. He’d met several groups like that and had dismantled one, but the women were already broken and he didn’t have the resources, know-how, or time to help them through it. In the end, he’d killed the ones that hadn’t committed suicided and burned all the bodies to keep them from walking. He was grateful the woman before him did not seem to be as scarred as he knew was possible.

He both saw and felt her tense up as he reached to put his weapon over her, keep keeping it himself would have meant carrying the man over it, and that would have certainly have injured him. It wasn’t hard to see that she was rummaging in her pack for something, likely a weapon, and he couldn’t blame her. He wouldn’t be happy in her situation. That changed when he stepped back and held out a weapon for her. The twist of her lip wasn’t exactly a ringing exclamation of trust, but it was a step.

He raised an eyebrow at her comment about lives. The presumption was that the girls were with her as well as the man he was about to carry because he was unconscious and apparently freshly missing fingers. The idea that she was good with lives had yet to be proven, but for the moment he’d give her the benefit of the doubt. He followed her across the grounds and noted she was heading toward the main admin building. While they were definitely on a small school campus, he noted the buildings were not designed to be welcoming. His first guess was a prison camp, maybe from the Second World War, that was eventually turned to educational uses, though what it might have been between was a mystery, and there was nothing other than a gut feeling on his part that it had ever been any kind of prison.

He caught up to her as she was tying and failing to get through the door. At least she wasn’t throwing her body against the door. He was about to suggest trying a different door when she smashed through the small window with the back of the hatchet he’d given her. He winced at the noise and both he and John did a quick visual sweep of the area, looking for signs of movement. He looked back to see her stand on her toes to reach through the window.

His heart lurched into his throat. If there were anything on the opposite side of the door, she would belong to whatever was there, at least until they could find an alternate way in and get to the other side of the door. He pulled out his pistol and thumbed the safety off, aiming it next to her body on the door. He’s learned that using a firearm was riskier than-fighting-hand to hand, generally, and he wasn’t sure it would even penetrate the door at all, but he’d decided going around was a bad idea, if she was caught there.

When she opened the door to let the rest through, she saw Maxwell glaring at her and blowing out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Maxwell kept the pistol pointed at the ground until he’d stepped through the portal, then brought it up and he turned to survey the immediate area. He disliked carrying the weight, not only because the man was fucking heavy, but more so because it curtailed his ability to move. An action that would have taken a second-and-a-half at most now took closer to five. Far too much time if anything had been there.

He took up a spot to the left of the door’s interior and motioned for John to take the opposite side. He watched as the woman came through, glaring at her. “Poor fucking protocol,” he whispered, managing a snarl in the low voice.

Once inside the door, he signaled for a stop. He set the man down on the floor, put the safety back on his firearm, holstered it, and took John’s weapon from him. Kneeling, he reached back to his back and squeezed to unbuckle the left side of his pack. Reaching within, he pulled out a long, narrow hard plastic case and opened it to reveal a flashlight. He then removed the scope from the weapon and placed it in the box, closed and latched it, stowed it in his pack, and buckled it. He then attached the flashlight where the scope had been before talking John though the task of picking the man up, helping to adjust the weight across John’s shoulders before guiding John to his feet. Warning him not to lock his knees or making any sudden movements, he knelt to the ground again to retrieve the crossbow and took rear guard.

Every step Max took had him facing a different direction, the light moving to illuminate where he looked. He moved clockwise, the light moving from the woman’s right side until it came around to be at her left side, then moved clockwise again, insuring his weapon wasn’t trained at any of the member’s of his makeshift unit. He wasn’t worried about shooting them accidentally, but he didn’t want them thinking about it, and he also didn’t want to give the impression that it was okay to point a weapon at your teammates. It had the downside of making his movements predictable, but if they were engaged by an intelligent enemy in their current situation, they were pretty much fucked anyway.

When he heard the sounds, he signaled for John to move to the righthand side of the hall and lower the man to the ground while Max took the left. He indicated to John to pull out his knife. John reached for his firearm and Max closed the distance in an instant, placed his hand over John’s on the weapon, and indicated the knife again.

At the scream, Max bolted back to his side of the hall and trained his weapon down the hallway. Just as he started to move toward the scream, he saw the woman coming back toward him, ax in the air and she tried to attach the critter that had scared her. To his left, he saw John bring the gun up to fire. Max lunged toward John, taking him across the jaw with the end of the crossbow and taking him to the ground, but not before the gun had discharged. Before John recovered, Max was on him with a knife at the black man’s throat.

“Think about what you want to do next, John,” Max hissed, not wanting to use the knife but unwilling to let the man shoot indiscriminately. “I know all about the adrenalin. I know how hard it is to learn to control that. But you almost shot our companion.”

“I wouldn’t have shot anyone if you hadn’t attacked me, man!”

Max held the knife in place while he glanced up at the woman. He wasn’t sure what her reaction to the gunfire was, be he guessed it wouldn’t be good. And he would have definitely agreed with her. It was why he hadn’t given her a firearm to begin with.

“Maybe,” Max answered, but he put the knife away, got up, and offered John a hand up. John knocked it away and got up on his own.

Max picked up the firearm, put it back on safety, and gave it back to John, who holstered it without checking it first. In a less tense moment, Max might have lectured him about always checking the status of a weapon himself, but the moment did call for any more conflict than was necessary. He handed John the crossbow took up the unconscious man again, wondering how the man could sleep through the firing of a .45 caliber round in a hallway, but decided not to voice his concerns. He turned to John and asked if they were good. John nodded and Max turned to the woman.

“Yeah, fucking raccoon, and a ninja you are not. Let’s roll.”

The sound of the walkers in the distance didn’t surprise him in the least, though the woman’s reaction to it was dead on, pun not intended. He kept his silence; there had been enough drama already. He appreciated her caution in the nurse's office and was very thankful to have a place to put the injured man. John headed to the outer office to keep watch, as well as to put a distance between himself and Max. He kept telling himself Max had been the reason his weapon had gone off and chaffed at the way he’d been treated.

As the woman went through the cabinets, Max took the injured man’s pulse, then looked at his hand. The fingers had been cut off at his knuckles and seared to cauterize them. The work displayed the crude circumstances of its surroundings, but also showed skill and knowledge of someone that had done this before, and with the woman coming straight to a nurse’s office and acting at home in it, he was convinced that she was, or had been a member of the medical community. That alone made the trials of the day more than worth it.

“‘Bout time we had some introductions, don’t you think? My name is Maxwell Baer. My friend out there is John Higgins. He used to be a mechanic. Excuse me; automotive technician. I... Well, I survive. And you, you’re a doctor? Not bad work on this man’s hand. You put a lot of effort into saving him. My guess is that he’s important to you.”

 

[PhoenixRising82]

Whether he noticed the shaking of her hands as she flit around the room, rummaging and pulling different things out of various cabinets or not, she didn’t know and she didn’t care. She was on a mission, clearly.

The gun shot had rattled her, her heart still raced in her chest. The confrontation between the two men over the gun fire rattled her as well but on a much lower level. She did not think that John had done it on purpose. It was just as much a gut reaction as her scream and wild swing of the hatchet had been. She appreciated Max’s stopping it or trying to as well, albeit a little over the top she thought but given the circumstances, she understood as well. Hence she’d said nothing to either man concerning the situation.

Nor had she said much of anything concerning the fact that Max questioned her ‘protocol’ nor the fact that she wasn’t a ninja....yet.

”Bear.”

She murmured, a faint twitch of a smirk creeping along the corner of her lips. Now that.....that was fitting. He definitely came off as a bit of a Bear. She nodded, listening as she continued to search cabinets, high and low. What she didn’t pull out, she noted for future gathering, such as bottles of Tylenol and ibuprofen. There were quite a few, kept in bulk in case students or faculty came in with a headache or other aches. Granted it was all very likely expired but even so, the medicine would hold a bit of its potency and could come in handy. She did grab a small med cup out and shook a few more pills than a usual dose would be given into it and set it aside for a moment.

She finally stopped moving, hands planted on the small counter between them. Her lips pursed inward a moment as she drew in a breath.

”Pia Richards. Nurse, actually. So no, a ninja I am not, nor.....military.”

Her eyes met him dead on, the last word dripping with vinegar, her head canting slightly to the right, almost as if challenging him. Then her gaze dropped and shifted, settling on Randall. She didn’t press further and the snark left her tone as she spoke again, answering the last of Max’s questions. She didn’t really want to fight. He’d helped her, they both had and she didn’t want to come off or seem ungrateful for it. They were here, they were....relatively safe for the time being.

”Randall and his wife, Nita, opened their home to me and several others. I promised her I’d bring him back safe. Getting him back to her, while not necessarily in one piece anymore but safely is what’s important. He’s a good man.“

Her brow furrowed softly. She felt horrible that she literally would not be bringing him back home in one piece and all because he’d stuck his neck out for her so to speak and saved her from getting bit.

She sniffed softly and pushed away from the counter, swiping the med cup and the small flashlight from where she’d left it and a well used but clean and clear water bottle from her bag. With a small nod in Max’s direction, she quietly excused herself and stepped out into the main office area where John was.

”Here. For the....”

Her head tilted and a finger swept back and forth, indicating her own jaw, meaning of course the clock he’d taken against his. She set it on the corner of the long counter. She introduced herself and as she spoke, she settled the beam of her light at his chest, her eyes dancing over the skin of his neck, making sure that the knife hadn’t left any marks on him, if there were, she’d need to tend to it. After a few more minutes, she offered a thank you for his help and retreated back into the nurses off with Max and Randall.

She gathered what she would need in silence, gauze, alcohol, medical tape and made her way over to a still unconscious Ran. As she set about cleaning and rewrapping the damage she’d done, she glanced over to Max.

”Thank you. For helping get him in here. We were on our way here to replenish some supplies for me. Those two girls.....they were with us and....of absolutely no help. Anyway, while I was busy paying attention to them, Ran heard and saw one of those, things, coming up behind me. It went for my shoulder, got his fingers instead. I did what I could with what I had available. His knife, a lighter and two belts.”

She shrugged softly, tucking her hair behind her ears as she finished wrapping the gauze around the cleaned up wound. Her tongue dragging across dry lips as she taped it into place and set his hand against his stomach. She turned and leaned back against the patient table, her hands settling at the edges as she took a moment, finally to just.....settle.

”Because those two left, he had to keep himself still and quiet, even knowing what I was doing. He passed out while I was cauterizing the wound. I don’t know how long he’ll be out but while he is, I need to see what else I can find to take back that we might need.“

She pushed away from the table and made her way back over to the cabinets. As she started to put the things she’d pulled out into her bag, she glanced up at Bear and smirked.

”Since I follow protocol so fucking poorly, it’s probably best anyways that we wait until he wakes up and can walk on his own, so that you don’t have to carry him. That might mean we’re here overnight though. If you have somewhere else to be though, I understand.“

 

[Gwyn the Green]

Bear leaned against the edge of the other bed as he watched as Pia appeared to flit around the room. Her hands were shaking, something that hadn’t been the case before. The earlier incident had shaken her, but not enough to take her from her task. She was resilient. That was good. And, it appeared she knew what she was looking for, which meant she’d had a plan. That was good. It would have been better if they’d had a plan to go out and back in one piece.

He smiled at the hint of humor she showed at his name. He’d been called “Bear” for a long time, and it was as good a name as any. And, now, far better then Gunny, given how many in the military had reacted. They had forgotten or perhaps had never learned that the true role of the military. Marines, sailors, soldiers, and airmen were all taught to follow orders and to see the mission through to the end. Without a mission, and without discipline, their imaginations start to run wild, and they start to build on each other's wild ideas and conspiracy theories, and worst, their fears. And that was exactly what had happened, and once it started, it became almost impossible to stop.

“You don’t like the military. The military was the only thing that ever allowed you the freedoms you had. Past tense. Now, the military is a shit-show and the only freedoms you have are those you can take and hold onto. We need people like me, that understand combat and defense. We need people like you, who can lead the effort in caring for each other and finding ways to keep us healthy. We need people like John, that can keep out shit running. We need farmers and construction workers that can build something to last, if we aren’t just prolonging the inevitable. And if we are planning to survive, as a race, then at some point we will need to have mothers and children and societies to keep them safe.”

He hadn’t realized it until after he had said it that his eyes were boring into her as he spoke of mothers and children. And he knew it wasn’t “fair” to put that burden on women, but life wasn’t fair and men couldn’t give birth, so in smaller groups, that made the protection of women a higher priority than the protection of men. Again, not fair, but neither was the human race having a disease that turned them into undead walkers when they died. And that was always the elephant in the room.

When she took the water and meds to John, he began a perusal of the cabinets on his own and it didn’t take long to find what he was looking for, but it was hardly what he’d hoped to find. The trash bags were small and the box nearly empty. He figured triple bagging was probably safe enough to travel, but that left them with only two small bags to carry the supplies. Not nearly enough. He decided he’d have to go looking for the janitor’s room before they took off. Not that he wanted to take everything with them when they headed back to Pia’s home, but he’d come by here again, later, and take the rest. And then, he’s want to be able to strip the place clear.

John looked at the pills and the water offered. The light was poor, and he couldn’t see much of the woman, but he’d seen enough of her before. He started to tell her there were other ways to make him forget about the pain but held his tongue. He could see the light moving in the other room, and he knew Bear would be listening. No matter what the bastard was doing, he was always aware of his surroundings. And John saw him as the big brother who that he was your dad; meant well but was way too overbearing. His libido was held in check by the thought of being the possible interlude being disrupted by Bear, who probably had his own designs on the woman. There were times he wished Bear just wasn’t around.

He accepted the offerings with a nod and put the pills in his mouth without ever asking what they were, then opened the bottle and swallowed them down.

When Pia returned to the back office, the box of trash bags were there next to the other things she’d gathered. “Triple-bag them.” It occurred to him after he had spoken that his words sounded like an order, and if he was being truthful with himself, that was exactly what it had been, though he hadn’t intended to deliver it in quite that tone. “Please,” he added, “I don’t want to be chasing individual pill bottles through the forest.”

He’d assumed they would be traveling by forest, as the walkers took the path of least resistance when aimlessly wandering. He had no idea why that was, but it was a fact he was more than willing to exploit, and he had assumed they would as well, though after he said it, he realized there would be a lot of ways his simple statement could have been taken. When he saw her packing the good into her own bad, he sighed and shook his head.

“I assumed you didn’t have a plan for getting that stuff out of here. I apologize for that. I should have known you'd have thought about that.”

He got up and walked past her, back to the cabinets as she spoke. Momentarily, he returned with a sling and offered it to Pia. “To help keep his arm immobile and elevated. Not that you don’t know how to do your job, but you’ve got a lot on your plate so I’ll help where I can. As to the girls, they didn’t belong out here. Whoever made the decision for them to be here, or allowed them if they volunteered, is responsible for that outcome, and for putting this mission in jeopardy. If we hadn’t come along, and if you had run into walkers, you would probably have died trying to defend Randall. And that would have been courageous, loyal, and dumb. But we did show up, and I’m happy we were able to help.”

He smiled at her reaction to his term, protocol, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You stuck your arm through a hole without knowing what was on the other side. You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach the latch. If there would have been a walker there with a missing leg, there would have been nothing that I could have done to save you that wouldn’t have put the rest of us at a very increased threat level. Next time, reach in with a stick, first. They can sense you, they can sense something moving, they’ll go for the stick. As to sound, if they have holes in their lungs, their silent. Protocol. Don’t put yourself at risk unnecessarily.

“And you’re right; we don’t travel at night, and if we can get him walking, so much the better. And we don’t have anywhere else to be. Also, grab your stuff. We’re staying in the outer office. On the off chance that he doesn’t survive, that thing that he would become is not going to attack us in our sleep. And don’t worry; as long as he’s him, we’re not leaving him behind. I promise you, we will check. Protocol.”

 

[PhoenixRising82]

”I don’t not like the military. My father and brother both served but....”

She took a deep breath and shook her head lightly. Her eyes blinking rapidly as she stared at him. Her assessment had clearly been correct. He was military or had been. He would defend them, just as her brother and father would. She knew all too well though, that not all military personnel were all about protecting the people and their freedoms. He wouldn’t understand, so she thought. So the tirade to counter his brief speech on freedoms they granted fell silent.

.....Nevermind. You are right though, we need those kinds of people. We’ve always needed those kinds of people. Even before.....”

Her hands rose and flippantly indicated the world around them.

”....this entire shit show. It’s just more prevalent now.”

She let that linger in the room while she went to attend John. Her entire interaction with John was quiet and brief, though she did let him know that she held no hard feelings toward him and that she’d understood it was as much a gut reaction from him, as her own had been. Otherwise, she left him with the instruction to let her know if any aches and pains he had got any worse.

When she returned to the back office, she noted the bags sitting next to everything, a brow lifting curiously and more so when her gaze met Bear directly at his command to triple bag the medications. She said nothing though, instead, she grabbed her own bag and began filling it. Not out of spite but for the simple fact that the one she’d brought just for this, was simply better than a plastic one or three. They could use the trash bags for something else they might need them for later.

She heard the sigh and half glanced up at him, ready to defend herself, her decision but his words stopped her. She paused in her mission to get everything she’d collected into the bag and her attention turn turned fully and solely upon Max as he rose and moved around her. Her head swiveling to follow his movements and after a moment she spoke, over her shoulder at him as he reached into a cabinet.

”No need to apologize but....”

A slow smile crept along her lips as he made his way back toward her. Her gaze dropping to the sling he held out in offering.

”.....You know what they say about assuming, right?”

Her smile shifted from one of mild teasing to one of genuine appreciation as she took the sling from Max. Leaving what she’d been doing, she moved across the room to Randall’s bedside. Speaking to Bear, even though her back was to him, as she began settling the sling into place.

”They didn’t volunteer. Nita made the decision and while, yes, the outcome rests on her shoulders, she didn’t make the decision with the intent of putting any of us in danger. Those two girls were old enough to know better than to act so recklessly. It was their turn to go out on a run, they needed to learn, hence they were sent with Randall and I. Everyone in the community needs to do their part. Unfortunately, they refused to keep their libidos in check and actually learn from the experience. And....I’m at fault for this.....”

She went quiet as she situated sling and arm up against his chest, gently laying the Velcro into place to hold it. Her hand lingering against his arm as she stared down at her friend sadly.

”I should have waited until we were inside to have a word with them.”

She finished quietly, as if she were speaking to Randall, alone. Max’s next words caused a tightening of her shoulders but she remained quiet and listened. Watching Randall’s chest rise and fall softly for a moment before she finally turned again to face Max.

”And I appreciate the help, Bear. I do....but point in fact, I did check, before I even broke the window. Unless these things can flatten themselves against walls so that they’re nearly invisible, I was confident that that was the best course of action.”

With that, she merely nodded then to the rest of what he had to say. Making her way back to where she’d been, she finished tossing the rest of the stuff into her bag. She couldn’t and wouldn’t argue about sleeping in the other room and away from Randall.

I....will check.”

She murmured darkly. The promise not to leave her friend behind set her on edge, visibly, as she snatched both full and empty bags from the counter and stalked toward the other room. In the main office, she dropped the full bag into one of the plastic chairs that sat along the nearest wall and slung the empty one over her shoulder.

At the door back into the hallway, she stopped and faced the two men in the room, though her gaze settled on Bear. Her lips fell open, having half a mind to tell him to shove his protocol on that one.

”I‘d like to go find and check out the labs, see what I can scrounge up there. I’m....assuming there’s a protocol about not going alone.....?”

She questioned with a deadpan smirk, her gaze bouncing between the both of them. While some things he said at times, unsettled her, she was actively trying to remind herself that he himself wasn’t the cause of her distrust. He had actually done nothing to cause her to distrust him directly. He had helped her when he and John could have just kept going. And she recognized that he was continually trying to keep them all relatively safe. Besides, even with the fading light of day, the school itself was rather dark and a little creepy, even more so as the sounds of the dead echoed down the hallway.

 

[Gwyn the Green]

Bear nodded at the comment about assuming, and let it go, though he definitely appreciated the smile on her face. There was truth in the maxim, but it was also true that moving a plan forward based on current intelligence, even if that intelligence was incomplete or inaccurate was, in general, better than standing around with your thumb up your ass waiting for something to happen. At least, that was his view on the situation. He closed his eyes and concentrated on memorizing her smile. It was a memory he may well need in the days and weeks to come, that there was at least something worth fighting for on a personal level. By the time she came back into the room, he was back to his gruff and somber self.

He listened to her rationalization that she was the one at fault. He disagreed totally. “Are you trained to be a commando squad leader? Are you trained as a cop? Look, I assumed again, that someone in your group is qualified to make the decisions. More than likely, you’re just a random group of people trying to figure out how to survive. Bottom line, it’s not my place to judge your people, especially since I’ve only ever spoken with one of them. So, yeah, me being an ass again. I guess I’m good at it.”

He listened to her explanation of her entrance into the building and nodded. He still didn’t like it, but if she did what she said she did, and there was no reason to doubt her, then he had no choice but to respect her. He nodded, looked away, and sucked on his cheek.

“Okay. You did good. If we end up with more missions together, I might need to update my protocols.” He gave her half a smile and pointed a finger at her. “I have never changed a protocol for a civilian before. Part of the new world, I guess.”

Her reaction to his statement that he wouldn’t leave Randall behind caught him off guard. He’d made it because a common tactic with military people is to divide and conquer. He decided that him bringing that up at all might have been worse than ignoring it altogether. He wasn’t suggesting that they lock the door; a walker can’t figure out a round door handle so there was no reason to lock it. He decided holding his silence was the best course of action unless she brought it up again.

Bear returned the smirk. “Yeah, there’s a protocol for that. If at all possible, have someone that is competent covering your back. Analysis is also important; for example, John fired a shot not long ago.”

“Hey”, John interjected.

Bear immediately turned his suggestion to John. “I understand why you did it. I get it. I overacted. Water under the bridge? Are we cool?” Bear extended his hand to John who, after a second, took it and nodded.

“We’re cool. I should have identified the target before I pulled the trigger.”

Bear nodded. “Right. So, the shot happened. If there were walkers in the halls, they’d have been at our door a long time ago. That makes me relatively secure in stating that it is safe to walk the halls. Until you run into a situation that allows a walker out of a room. I think one person needs to stay here in case Randall wakes. I don’t want him to wake up alone in a strange place with no idea how he got there. You need to go because you know what you are looking for. I’m going because I’m the best person here to protect you.”

He turned to John, “Don’t open either door unless you can have a conversation with the person on the other side.” He pulled his watch off his wrist and directed the light of his flashlight onto its face for 20 seconds, charging the phosphorescent hands and numbers before handing it to John. “You should be able to read this for nine hours. Sunrise is after seven. We should be back long before that, but if we’re not, I’d strongly consider moving on.”

He turned to Pia, nodded, and went to the door. He checked through the window through both sides and along the floor. As he did it, part of his mind reflected on Pia doing the same. She hadn’t received the training he had, so far as he knew, but this wasn’t looking for traps or ambushes. He believed that his height gave him a better perspective, but he had to recognize that Pia had the capability to safely check the door. And he recognized how odd it was that this was even an issue for him. Regardless, he felt much more comfortable in the lead. He gestured with his flashlight for Pia to move to the hinge side of the door. Knife in one hand and light in the other, he turned back to the window and took an involuntary half-step back, eyes wide and teeth clamped shut. His jaw muscles flexed as his brows knit together.

A dead and rotted face looked back at him with eyes that were covered in cataracts but were still able to sense light, maybe even to see. Jaw still clenched, Bear put his knife back in its holster and went into Randall’s room. He grabbed the IV pole, put his foot on the base, and removed the top of the pole. He gave a nod to Randall on his way out, still lost in the slumber of shock, and went back to the front office, closing Randall’s door behind him, and set himself in front of the door. He hefted the pole with his left hand around the center of the pole with the flashlight held in parallel with it and his right hand on the square of the base. The face was still there, and in one smooth, violet moment, he rammed the pole through the window and into the skull of the walker. When he pulled it off, the walker fell to the floor.

He turned to Pia, the pole held between then as the viscera ran down it, coming ever closer to his hand. “It wasn’t there a minute ago, shouldn’t have been there at all. Stay close.”

He went to his pack and pulled an inspection mirror out of his pack. A glance at Pia underscored his ideas on protocol. He adjusted it to a 45-degree angle, then extended it out through the window and shown his flashlight on it. It offered him the ability to see both close and far. On the downside, it also alerted anyone or anything that might be there to their presence. Still, it showed that the hallway was clear.

He stowed the mirror and pushed the door open and held it until Pia, then looked to John. The two shared a look and a nod before John pulled the door shut. He handed his light and the IV stand to Pia and then grabbed the walker and dragged him 20 feet down the hall and left it in front of the next door down. He opened the door and removed the window frame, then the glass and replaced the inside of the frame. He returned to their door and extended the glass through the frame. It was taken from inside by John, who had already removed the frame on the inside and had started cleaning out the broken glass.

“Protocol,” he explained. “Never let your exit be blocked, never leave a trail to your door. We’ll need to find a broom to sweep away the glass. Walkers won’t care, but another person might. Best not to leave out the welcome mat.”

He retrieved the stand and light from Pia, then pulled out his pistol, checked to see it was loaded with a round in the chamber and the safety was off. He fixed a light onto the sights rail and then handed it to Pia. “Both hands on the weapon. Which is your trigger finger? Okay, keep it alongside the barrel, not in the guard, unless you know you want to shoot. You don’t want to fire the weapon by accident. I don’t want you to fire the weapon, but if you need to, make damn sure you don’t shoot me. Seriously, if you see a problem, let me know. I’ll take care of it. But, if something happens to me, don’t be afraid to use it to get back to the room and John.”

 

[Gwyn the Green]

Bear nodded at the comment about assuming, and let it go, though he definitely appreciated the smile on her face. There was truth in the maxim, but it was also true that moving a plan forward based on current intelligence, even if that intelligence was incomplete or inaccurate was, in general, better than standing around with your thumb up your ass waiting for something to happen. At least, that was his view on the situation. He closed his eyes and concentrated on memorizing her smile. It was a memory he may well need in the days and weeks to come, that there was at least something worth fighting for on a personal level. By the time she came back into the room, he was back to his gruff and somber self.

He listened to her rationalization that she was the one at fault. He disagreed totally. “Are you trained to be a commando squad leader? Are you trained as a cop? Look, I assumed again, that someone in your group is qualified to make the decisions. More than likely, you’re just a random group of people trying to figure out how to survive. Bottom line, it’s not my place to judge your people, especially since I’ve only ever spoken with one of them. So, yeah, me being an ass again. I guess I’m good at it.”

He listened to her explanation of her entrance into the building and nodded. He still didn’t like it, but if she did what she said she did, and there was no reason to doubt her, then he had no choice but to respect her. He nodded, looked away, and sucked on his cheek.

“Okay. You did good. If we end up with more missions together, I might need to update my protocols.” He gave her half a smile and pointed a finger at her. “I have never changed a protocol for a civilian before. Part of the new world, I guess.”

Her reaction to his statement that he wouldn’t leave Randall behind caught him off guard. He’d made it because a common tactic with military people is to divide and conquer. He decided that him bringing that up at all might have been worse than ignoring it altogether. He wasn’t suggesting that they lock the door; a walker can’t figure out a round door handle so there was no reason to lock it. He decided holding his silence was the best course of action unless she brought it up again.

Bear returned the smirk. “Yeah, there’s a protocol for that. If at all possible, have someone that is competent covering your back. Analysis is also important; for example, John fired a shot not long ago.”

“Hey”, John interjected.

Bear immediately turned his suggestion to John. “I understand why you did it. I get it. I overacted. Water under the bridge? Are we cool?” Bear extended his hand to John who, after a second, took it and nodded.

“We’re cool. I should have identified the target before I pulled the trigger.”

Bear nodded. “Right. So, the shot happened. If there were walkers in the halls, they’d have been at our door a long time ago. That makes me relatively secure in stating that it is safe to walk the halls. Until you run into a situation that allows a walker out of a room. I think one person needs to stay here in case Randall wakes. I don’t want him to wake up alone in a strange place with no idea how he got there. You need to go because you know what you are looking for. I’m going because I’m the best person here to protect you.”

He turned to John, “Don’t open either door unless you can have a conversation with the person on the other side.” He pulled his watch off his wrist and directed the light of his flashlight onto its face for 20 seconds, charging the phosphorescent hands and numbers before handing it to John. “You should be able to read this for nine hours. Sunrise is after seven. We should be back long before that, but if we’re not, I’d strongly consider moving on.”

He turned to Pia, nodded, and went to the door. He checked through the window through both sides and along the floor. As he did it, part of his mind reflected on Pia doing the same. She hadn’t received the training he had, so far as he knew, but this wasn’t looking for traps or ambushes. He believed that his height gave him a better perspective, but he had to recognize that Pia had the capability to safely check the door. And he recognized how odd it was that this was even an issue for him. Regardless, he felt much more comfortable in the lead. He gestured with his flashlight for Pia to move to the hinge side of the door. Knife in one hand and light in the other, he turned back to the window and took an involuntary half-step back, eyes wide and teeth clamped shut. His jaw muscles flexed as his brows knit together.

A dead and rotted face looked back at him with eyes that were covered in cataracts but were still able to sense light, maybe even to see. Jaw still clenched, Bear put his knife back in its holster and went into Randall’s room. He grabbed the IV pole, put his foot on the base, and removed the top of the pole. He gave a nod to Randall on his way out, still lost in the slumber of shock, and went back to the front office, closing Randall’s door behind him, and set himself in front of the door. He hefted the pole with his left hand around the center of the pole with the flashlight held in parallel with it and his right hand on the square of the base. The face was still there, and in one smooth, violet moment, he rammed the pole through the window and into the skull of the walker. When he pulled it off, the walker fell to the floor.

He turned to Pia, the pole held between then as the viscera ran down it, coming ever closer to his hand. “It wasn’t there a minute ago, shouldn’t have been there at all. Stay close.”

He went to his pack and pulled an inspection mirror out of his pack. A glance at Pia underscored his ideas on protocol. He adjusted it to a 45-degree angle, then extended it out through the window and shown his flashlight on it. It offered him the ability to see both close and far. On the downside, it also alerted anyone or anything that might be there to their presence. Still, it showed that the hallway was clear.

He stowed the mirror and pushed the door open and held it until Pia, then looked to John. The two shared a look and a nod before John pulled the door shut. He handed his light and the IV stand to Pia and then grabbed the walker and dragged him 20 feet down the hall and left it in front of the next door down. He opened the door and removed the window frame, then the glass and replaced the inside of the frame. He returned to their door and extended the glass through the frame. It was taken from inside by John, who had already removed the frame on the inside and had started cleaning out the broken glass.

“Protocol,” he explained. “Never let your exit be blocked, never leave a trail to your door. We’ll need to find a broom to sweep away the glass. Walkers won’t care, but another person might. Best not to leave out the welcome mat.”

He retrieved the stand and light from Pia, then pulled out his pistol, checked to see it was loaded with a round in the chamber and the safety was off. He fixed a light onto the sights rail and then handed it to Pia. “Both hands on the weapon. Which is your trigger finger? Okay, keep it alongside the barrel, not in the guard, unless you know you want to shoot. You don’t want to fire the weapon by accident. I don’t want you to fire the weapon, but if you need to, make damn sure you don’t shoot me. Seriously, if you see a problem, let me know. I’ll take care of it. But, if something happens to me, don’t be afraid to use it to get back to the room and John.”

 

[PhoenixRising82]

She knew what he was doing. Trying to pull her out of her own pool of self loathing. She appreciated it but the truth of the matter was, no matter how it was spun, Ran had lost his fingers because of her. As she listened, she shook her head softly. He knew full well she was not a trained commando nor a trained cop.

”No and no but what I am, is a trained nurse. Trained to keep my cool and not lose my shit. Trained to try to help others keep their cool and not lose their shit. I failed. I did not keep my cool. I lost my shit and Ran lost his fingers and those girls lost their lives. Hard truth but one I’ll have to live with.”

She replied quietly before she’d stepped away from Randall’s side. When he mentioned being good at being an ass, she cast him a cheeky smirk as she passed by him to finish her gathering of things.

”Well, we’re all good at something. So there’s that.”

She chuckled as she’d started toward the other room, stopping just inside the door to face him and his pointing finger. She was about to make a snarky remark, ask him if that was so hard to actually compliment her efforts at the very least, when that half smile hit her and his remark about never having changed his protocol for a civilian before. In the short time she’d been in his presence, she didn’t have to question that statement at all. She knew it to be true and it made her blush softly as she turned her attention toward the door, a small smile curling at the corners of her lips as her fingers wrapped around the knob as she, instead, waited for his answer to her question about protocol.

Nodding her acknowledgement, her attention snapped up toward John when he spoke up and she watched quietly as the two made amends.

”If you have to go, make sure you take him home. Head back that way.”

Pia spoke quietly as she gestured first toward the closed door with Randall behind it and then in the direction of their camp, back the way they’d come from, beyond the brick and mortar of the old building they currently hid in. Then she stepped back as Max asked her to, her eyes on him, quietly watching.

His reaction drew her eyes to the window and her hand to cover her mouth as she drew in a sharp hiss of air, seeing the rotted face staring in at them. Her gaze flickering back and forth between Max and the window walker over her hand. While it hid the sound from leaving her, the rapid rise and fall of her chest was a dead give away what she was feeling in that moment.

When she spotted the IV pole, her eyes clenched shut, her fingers gripped a little tighter against her cheeks and her head tilted away and as Max impaled the things forehead, she was thrown back to that night at the hospital.

All she really heard, heard clearly anyways, was to stay close, to which she nodded. A slow bob of her head, a gentle flare of her nostrils before her eyes peeled open once again and her hand dropped to her side, palm sweeping against the thigh of her jeans.

She didn’t argue his protocols at that point, her mind drifting between him and something else, clearly. She was glad to let go of much heavy thought at the moment as she stepped through the held open door. Her steps precise as she actively avoided getting too close to the fallen rotter, though her attention was on it. Taking in the clothes it wore. Thankfully devoid of a white lab coat, instead donning what appeared to be a utility jumper of some sort. A mechanic maybe? The thing looked emaciated, more so than they normally did.

Absently, she took the light and the pole, her gaze on the walker even as Bear pulled him away. The light following him, catching just a glimpse of a gapping black slice in the wall a little further down the hallway. A cracked door and only when Max made his way past her, back toward John, did she train the light on that obsidian space, the old plaque on the windowless door read Janitor.

”Bear....”

Her voice low, curious more than alarmed. He said they’d need a broom after all. The jumper the rotter had been wearing could have been janitors overalls, she supposed. She wondered idly if that’s where the thing had come from and why he’d been in there. Had he holed up in there? Was he the one that had put the others in whatever room the moans and groans were coming from? Had he been bitten? Was there some other reason he’d turned? Her curiosity peaked and she jumped slightly when he approached and took the light and pole from her. Her gasp a quiet whisper along the hall where they stood. After a second she calmed, realizing it was him and she turned her attention to him.

”Yeah, I got it. My father showed me how to use one of these, years ago....but still.”

She shrugged softly, her tone soft and easy. She wasn’t condescending, not over this. She couldn’t fault him for assuming she or anyone else didn’t know how to use a gun. A lot of people didn’t and he had no way of knowing that she did. In this instance, it was better to assume and be safe than be sorry.

She aimed the light of the pistol at the door she’d noted earlier and nodded her head.

”You said you needed a broom?”

 

[Gwyn the Green]

Bear didn’t agree with Pia’s assessment, but this wasn’t the time for a philosophical debate. For one, there wasn’t a beer in sight, and it would take a hell of a lot more than one, two, a decent row with her, doing his best not to let her know he was trying very hard not to hurt her without letting her know, and three, a bed with clean sheets, if that became a thing. There wasn’t any of those available, and there certainly wasn’t the time for any of the above. For the time being, he nodded noncommittally.

“Of course,” John responded. “But don’t worry. Bear’s too damn ornery to fail. You’ll be leading the way in the morning.”

Bear rolled his eyes. John was encouraging her, which was good, but Bear couldn't promise them that they would all survive. He believed they would, but that was a far cry from promising.

. . . . .

Bear looked up at Pia’s words and followed her gaze, looking across the hall at a doorway barely open. He accepted her words as a warning of the threat of the opened door and kept an eye on it as he retrieved the weapon and light and gave her the pistol. He was glad to hear she had been taught to use a weapon, though without knowing anything about her father, he had no idea what that training might have entailed. At any rate, she knew the basic function of the weapon and as a nurse, she would be all too cognizant of the effects of a gunshot wound, and he hoped that would be enough to keep her from pointing it at him. The armor he wore would protect his vitals, but he would still prefer to not have to count on it.

“If you need to shoot, shoot the head. Brain trauma stops them. Nothing else does. You can chop the damn thing’s head off and it will still try to bite you for weeks to come. Worse than cockroaches. Headshot. Anything else is a waste of ammunition and ringing of the dinner bell.”

He noted her shine the light at the door again, and this time took more than cursory notice, especially given her question. He nodded put his finger to his lips to indicate silence, then directed her with hand signals to take a position across from the janitor’s closet and to keep a lookout on the door and down the hallway. He couldn’t make out the expression that he got back from her, and he wouldn’t have looked for one in someone he knew was trained. This was one of those confidence-building moments for both of them, the kind that was supposed to happen in a carefully prepared mock-up under controlled conditions. That wasn’t going to happen. Still, he was confident, mostly, that she wouldn’t shoot him. Still, unless they were overrun, they should be fine. He didn’t believe there was a horde in the closet, and he knew there wasn’t one in the hallway. Yet.

When she was in position, he moved to the door and used the reach of the pole to push it without getting too close to the entrance. It moved a few inches easily, then stopped. He took a step back and glanced up and down the hallway, including at Pia. She seemed to be watching him more than the hallway, and his first instinct was to berate her for stupidity but quickly thought better of it. She wasn’t trained for this, and he saw her glance up and down the hallways. All things considered; she was doing better than he had a right to expect. A part of him wanted to have a walker come from either end of the hall, for training purposes, but this wasn’t a training run. He just hoped that success here wouldn’t lead to reinforces poor performance. And, to top it off, her watching him with the level of concern he saw in her face encouraged him, though in things not necessarily combative. He sighed, pushing all thoughts beside the mission away from his mind, at least for now.

He stepped up again and tried the door. Again, it went a few inches before he stopped cold, and pushing harder yielded maybe an inch and the sound of things scraping in the room. It made sense, given the theory that the janitor had just come out of the closet, that it would be a mess in there, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one, or more walkers still within. Shouldering the door wasn’t an option, and not just because of possible walkers. There could be traps inside as well. He signaled for Pia to crouch low, underneath the height where any well-laid trap might be set, then brought out his inspection mirror once more. Extending it to its full two feet, he got close to the door and slipped the mirror through the opening, shining a light on it to try and get a view of the room.

It was much more difficult than using the mirror through the window, but with a bit of trial and air, he managed to satisfy himself that there was no walker and probably not a trap. He pushed the door open again while kneeling in front of it, head to the floor with his light shown under the door and he used his IV pole to moves things away from it, cursing every few minutes as something he’d just cleared fell back into place. After several minutes, he gathered his gear and retreated to Pia’s location.

“Plan B.”

He led her to the same wall as the door was on, on the side opposite the hinge, six feet back from the door frame. He had her kneel on the leg closest to the wall with her other foot a foot out from the wall, her lower leg perpendicular to the floor.

“If you need to move quickly, this position will help you keep from tripping over your own feet as you rise and start moving. I’m going to kick the door in. It will be loud, and that is a potential danger, but so is sitting out here in the hallway. A well-stocked closet will have a lot of soap and cleaning materials, as well as tools and long handles. And a broom. It’s worth the risk.”

He didn’t bother asking her what her opinion was, or if she was ready. Instead, he left the pole and light with her, drew out his machete in his left hand and fighting knife in his right, and stood for a long second in front of the door, centering himself. With a wink in Pia’s direction, he took one step before his foot exploded into the door, opening it a good 18 inches with his foot slamming down on the floor before it could start closing again. There was no growl, snarl, or shotgun blast, but Bear’s body nearly vibrated with adrenaline.

He sheathed the machete, pulled out the inspection mirror, then gestured for him to join him. While he held the door, she’d be able to use the mirror and flashlight to inspect the room and, if clear, start clearing the debris keeping the door from opening. He traded her the mirror for the firearm.

“Be careful. Look before you reach. We need both your hands, Doc.”

Using the light on the gun, he scanned up and down the hallway, satisfying him that they hadn’t attracted any unwanted attention.

“You’ve got this. No pressure,” he added with a wink and a smirk.

He wasn’t sure if she could squeeze through the door or not, if she chose to try, but, she was smart. She could figure it out.

 

[PhoenixRising82]

She did indeed know all too well what a bullet could do to the human body. She’d seen far too many. She also knew how to take care of them, should something happen. For whatever reason. Not that she had any inclination to point the gun at him anyways, not unless she felt deep down that he was a threat and she’d be lying to herself if she said she felt that way about him currently.

She nodded quietly when he instructed her on the headshot bit. She’d learned that pretty quick through her travels and trials. And interestingly enough, it fascinated her. That despite the fact they were dead, there was something still primal enough left in them, in their brains, keeping their most basic motor skills working. It had her thinking ages ago that maybe by testing the blood, she had all along been looking mostly in the wrong place. That would perhaps tell her a few things but not everything. Her lips pursed together softly and she pushed the thoughts from her mind for the time being. She couldn’t do anything at all until she had the equipment to do so. Instead she drew her attention back to Max as he silently instructed her to move out of the way. She did so without word or argument, settling against the wall. A glance along both lengths of the hallway before she turned her gaze back to Bear, watching him indeed with a touch of concern but there was also curiosity. More importantly, she wasn’t arguing or bucking against his methods, his protocol at the moment. She was letting him do what he needed to do but she was absolutely watching with a concerned eye, more so toward the door and what may or may not lay beyond it, more than him she supposed.

When he called for Plan B, she still didn’t argue, following him instead and following his instruction, though being Pia, she didn’t necessarily stay entirely quiet.

”Have you ever been in an emergency room with an experienced nurse?”

She quipped, her voice low but hopefully he’d hear the faint tease beneath the tone. She was merely pointing out that she was quite proficient at not tripping over her own feet as a general rule.

While she clearly saw what he was going to do, the loud thump of his foot against the door caused her to jerk slightly. She’d been tense and waiting for it, didn’t help though and she cringed, eyes darting along the hallway and then back to Bear as his foot slapped against the floor. She gave him a look, silently asking if he couldn’t have done that a little quieter but she rose and approached when he called her closer. Handing over the gun and taking the mirror as she peered into the room the sliver provided. The flashlight illuminating over the crap that stood in their way.

”No pressure at all......

She muttered quietly and stepped closer still, she was going to literally need to squeeze past him in order to get in. She peered up at him and smirked, the corners of her lips curling. This close, he’d be able to see the faint amusement in her gaze.

”You ever play Tetris, Bear?”

She chuckled and he’d find her chest brushing warmly against him, as well as her thigh as she wiggled past. It was awkward at best and she wasn’t sure if it was him or her....”vibrating” as she squeaked past him finally. Once she was past, she gave him a once over, this time the left corner of her lips lifting as a snort escaped her.

”Excuse you.....”

She murmured as her gaze fell lower along his frame and then she turned to the task at hand. She started at the top, letting her eyes dance over the top part of the stack, looking for a break in the barricade they faced. Everything was pretty solid, it wasn’t until about eye level that things started loosening up and even more so the closer to the floor she looked.

A soft hum in consideration rattled in her throat as she found a space, seemingly unoccupied by a pile of junk, right about knee level. Using the light and mirror as he’d shown her, she bent forward, inspecting the space. More so the space behind the barricade that she could see. When she was confident there was nothing of danger beyond, she set the flashlight on the floor and even as she remained bent forward, she tucked the mirror into the snug back pocket that hugged her ass-end and reached for the leg of the chair that was in her way.

As her fingers wrapped around the slender metal bar, she noted the faint rough texture, a little flaky....and wet. She adjusted, the flaky she suspected was a bit of rust. Considering it was undetermined how long the school had been closed down and how long these things had sat in here, it was entirely possible that it was indeed rust. She wasn’t quite sure about the slick texture however.....that was until her fingers touched something she was almost certain was....human skin. She didn’t get grossed out easily and even this only mildly unsettled her. She knew the chair needed to moved, plain and simple or they wouldn’t be getting the things they needed from the room.

Her butt wiggled as she shifted her stance, grabbed the leg of the chair and started tugging. She wasn’t worried about everything tumbling down on top of them or around them, this was the one piece she was confident enough to know that it could be removed and provide them with a wider entrance.

It was her confidence in her grip on the metal leg, however, that was miscalculated and as she tugged, once, twice, thrice when her hands slipped in whatever goo coated the leg and she began tumbling back, despite her solid stance. A soft, surprised yelp escaping in a breath.

 

[Gwyn the Green]

He looked back at her, his face completely serious, and pointed at himself. “Several times. The experience was usually painful and always appreciated.”

He smiled at her “no pressure” comment and, up close, saw the smirk on her face. She was quite alluring, and the closeness of the space made it more so. He thought about the Tetris question, though it was getting a little hard to maintain abstract thoughts.

“Uh, no. Goldeneye, Half-Life, Call of Duty, yes, but only when I couldn’t spend time on the range.” Basic weapon accuracy wasn’t that hard to maintain, but shooting accurately from the hip or when on the move was a quick difficult to maintain accuracy. That, and the basic fact that he simply enjoyed firing weapons much more than he ever loved video games kept his warrior skills in top shape and his butt from getting soft.

“Mmmmm,” the appreciative groan came unbidden from deep in his chest as her body squeezed past his, her having wiggle and fight to get her breasts across his chest. Had it been something he’d expected, he’d have embellished the moan.

“You know, if you needed to take a little break there, I wouldn’t really mind.”

While the banter was witty and light-hearted, his eyes were on the hallway, weapon held at the ready. He caught the snort and replied with a smile, his eyes shifting to her hungrily after the hallway had been found secure. He took a deep breath and let it out, aware that his manhood was uncomfortably hard, and told himself this wasn’t the time, despite the fact that it’d been weeks since he’d been with a woman, longer since it was one he would otherwise have been attracted to.

Bear found a tap-light stuck to the back of the door and, after making sure it wasn’t trapped, tapped it. To his surprise, the light came on. It was dim, to be sure, meaning the batteries were on their way out, but it gave up enough light to see by and was immediately grateful for the gift of sight. He watched Pia, bent over, inspecting the debris before her. The sight was mouthwatering and encouraged him to get into the closet behind her and let the door softly close. Not only would that give them more room to maneuver in, but it would also mean they would not be immediately vulnerable to an attack.

He was immediately happy with the results as he has quite a better view of her rear as maneuvered under the debris. He picked up the flashlight and shone it over her shoulder from his raised arm. His body tightened when she jerked. He couldn’t see what she jerked at, and while he wanted to ask, she immediately got back on task. Asking her, interrupting her, would have been impolite, both socially and professionally, like asking a member of a bomb crew how it was going in the middle of an operation. They were idiots and their questions cost far too many men’s lives when they broke their concentration to respond to their so-called superior. Bear gave Pia the respect she deserved and held his tongue and distracted himself with the view of her ass.

He began to wonder if she was specifically teasing him as she wiggled her way a little farther in, and was quite surprised when she shot out backward, bowling him over and her rear landing painfully on his cock. He bit his teeth, suppressing a groan as she shifted on him, first making the pain worse before relieving it. He forgot all about it when he saw the loose skin in her hand and somehow slid out from under her and brought his gun up, scanning the small room before the debris became unstuck and began to fall.

He forced himself to his feet in an instant, pushing back on the pile of stuff back away from the door.

“Status,” he said, demanding an update of Pia’s situation.

Meanwhile, he scanned the remainder of the room and noticed a form in the far corner. He shited the light from his left hand and drew the weapon in his right. With the way she’d been able to loosen up the junk in the closet, and the door being closed, Bear was able to get close enough to see the body had a screwdriver handle sticking out from its eye. Putting away how weapon, he grabbed a mop stick and pushed against the handle until it dislodged with a six-inch blade coming out with it.

“He’s down. Looks like he took his own life while he still could. Brave.”

He tossed the stick in the general direction of Pia and began moving chairs, a cleaning rack, and other things out of their way. He emptied a rolling trash can on to the floor and triple lined it with bags before he filled it halfway with soap, disinfectant, paper towels, and toilet paper. He pried the touch light off the door and taped it onto one side of the trash can before he grabbed a broom and dustpan and put them in the can before he stopped to look at Pia.

He stepped up to her, looked deeply into her eyes, and placed his hands on her hips. He leaned down, closer to her face, stopping just short of contact. His hand went into the skintight pocket of her rear pocket and with a little more groping than was strictly necessary, he retrieved the mirror before taking her right hand with his left. Stepping half a step back, he pulled out his weapon and checked the safety was set, then tucked his left hand into the to top her waistband and tucked the firearm in it, his eyes never leaving hers and, even in the dim light, it was obvious that he enjoyed the definitely not chaste contact.

He kissed her then, deeply, holding the kiss for several seconds before he let it. end.

“I’d like to continue that another time when we don’t have people waiting on us.” he offered,

He used the mirror to check the hall before he took up the IV pole and stepped out the door. Once he verified the hall was clear he grabbed the wastebasket, wincing at the squeaking of the wheels before he went to the broken glass and swept it up, depositing it outside of the door whose glass they’d appropriated., then put the broom and dustpan back in the closet and gestured to Pia to join him in the hall.

“So, here’s this lab supposed to be?”

 

[PhoenixRising82]

There was a faint roll of her eyes when he’d mentioned she could take a little break as she’d rubbed against him, a faint smirk curving her lips along with it. And an even fainter flush of warmth against her cheeks that had hopefully gone unnoticed as she’d turned to face the obstacle looming before them.

She could, through the process, feel his eyes on her. The gaze warm and weighted and she glanced back at one point as she shifted things around to see him watching her and she couldn’t help but smirk again. She almost had told him to take a picture, that it lasted longer but the slip of her grip halted thought as she tumbled back into him.

The groan that escaped her was not one of a sexual nature. More surprise and a touch of pain as the impact rattled bone against bone, it was really only as she was trying to shift off his lap even as he tried to get out from under her that she really thought about the implications otherwise.

She’d been so wrapped up in staring at the dead and gooey skin clutched in a fist that had tightened on impact, that it took her a second or two before she muttered.

”Sorry.”

A genuine tone laced the single word as she let her eyes drag over the skin she still held, noting darker lines that formed an inked image. A tattoo, she assumed but the degradation of the flesh had warped it too much to really tell what it was, at least in this light.

”I’m fine, just holding some dead guys skin.”

She reported easily and without question when he asked for her status.

”And you? Is your uh...”ego” ok?”

The smirk on her lips rang loud and clear in her tone as she spoke, teasing lightly about their momentary and revealing physical clash, rather than his actual ego.

However, she didn’t really expect an answer as she was only teasing and had gone back to inspecting the skin for a moment before discarding it and pushed herself up from the ground, brushing her hands off on the thighs of her jeans. She was just looking up and away from the mess now streaked across her jeans when he tossed the mop stick and while it wasn’t headed exactly in her direction, instinct kicked in and a hand darted out, catching the stick before it could clatter to the floor behind her.

With its tip propped against the floor as she held it, she watched him and his ass this time as he moved around, a mildly amused look on her face. How the tables had turned. A brow lifting softly when he stopped to look at her.

Her brow lifted a little higher when he drew close, a soft and quiet swallow as his hands fell against her hips.

”What are you doi...”

She started, her words just above a soft whisper as she continued to watch his features closely, her gaze lingering on his as a soft ”Oh” escaped at the grope to her backside. Instinctively stepping slightly forward as she did so, nearly causing her to brush against him again before he retrieved the mirror and stepped back. Leaving her with a curious and mildly disappointed flutter as she peered down at the gun a moment before he tucked it into the waist band of her jeans.

Her face was turning back up, lips parting to say something before his lips captured her own. All that escaped was a murmur of surprise as she let loose of the mop stick and instead clutched his arm.

Her nostrils flared gently as she drew in a breath when he stepped back. A quiet, murmured Mmhm as he stepped around her and from the room, leaving her a little winded and flustered.

She stood still for a moment longer, gathering her thoughts and self before she ventured a little further into the room, toward a metal desk near the back. The janitors desk no doubt with all the scuff marks, stickers and various other stains in its surface. She noted the fire escape plans and routes attached to the wall above the desk, the plexiglass covering yellowed and aged with time. While Max cleaned up the glass, she rummaged through the desk. Finding little things that could come in handy. Pens and pencils, a yellow notepad of lined paper, the top page held notations of some sort. A list of things to do around the school she assumed by the looks of it. And in the bottom right drawer she found an old and aged first aid tin.

”Not like we don’t have until Dawn, according to your protocol......”

She was murmuring to herself, or so she thought, not hearing him as he entered the room again to dispose of the broom and dustpan. Not seeing him motioning to her.

When he spoke, her back straightened and she stood, idly wondering how long he’d been there, first aid kit in hand before she dropped her bag onto the desk and shoved the kit inside. Clearing her throat, she cast a brief glance back over her shoulder at him before turning back to peer at the fire escape plans on the wall.

”Um, it looks like.....”

Her finger swept over the plastic glass, following the route to the room labeled “Lab”.

”Down the hall and two doors down on the left, around the bend.”

She answered, slinging her bag back over her head and shoulder as she strode toward him. She started to skirt around him, her eyes held his for a moment before dropping as she started to take a step past him.

”Shall we?”

She murmured.

 

[Gwyn the Green]

Even in the dim light, Bear noticed the flush in her face at the close contact and the intuition that she enjoyed it. Of course, he'd enjoyed it. She was an attractive girl and he was a guy, but it was more than that. He'd developed a respect for her, an appreciation for her beyond the physical. But none of that meant the physical wasn't there. And he liked that a lot. And, her blush affected him in ways that were inappropriate on a mission, and that was something to think about. He'd been "on a mission" since this whole thing had started, and he knew better than most that was no kind of life. Missions had downtime, and for the first time in a long time, he wanted that downtime.

He released a sharp, quick growl at the sensation of having his swollen manhood nearly bent over by her abrupt return, though her question about his "ego" brought his attention back to their relationship as man and woman, along with his desire, which was more than obvious at the moment.

"My 'ego' will survive the mission," he quipped with a smile that told her payback would be coming.

He looked at the skin in her hands with a frown, rising to see it as well. That it was either tattooed or written on seemed obvious, and the former was the likelier case. Distorted as it was, there was something in it that made it seem familiar, but he couldn't place it. And it definitely seemed to be of little consequence. Even if this had been a murder, the world had changed so much that the victim's identity was no longer an issue.

He was quite pleased that the kiss left her flustered, but he forced his thoughts back to the mission. As he gathered equipment any group would need, or at least find welcome, he heard her murmured words and considered them. That she was mistaking protocol for direction was obvious, but it wasn't the time to make the distinction. John, while he had learned quite a bit in their brief travels together, lacked military discipline. Firing the weapon without having a clear target was evidence of that. Depending on his overall health, it might not take long for Ran to wake up. In a strange place, locked in a room without any light, a calm reaction would be too much to ask for. It was almost certain that he would wake in pain, and the moans he might make could give John all the reason he needed to fire through the door without any notion of what his target was.

Bear's goal was to get back before that could happen and take the burden of making such a decision off John's shoulders. The only protocol here was to not put a man in a situation he wasn't trained for, and that was exactly the protocol that he'd broken by leaving John behind. Sending John out with Pia would not have been any better. Leaving Ran on his own was also a bad idea, and waiting for Ran to recover would have been wasting time that the colony might not have to spare. There was no good answer, only an array of lesser evils. He chose to pretend he hadn't heard the murmured words, not because he didn't want to act on them, but because it would have been irresponsible too.

As she turned to tell him where the lab would be, her face was in the light, while his face was mostly silhouetted. Still, she looked at him for a long moment, and he at her. She was beautiful and would be even more so when cleaned up. There was more in the look, though, or at least he thought there was. There was a desire. Lust or infatuation, he didn't know, but he believed it was there. As she moved past him and then turned back, it was his turn to see the silhouette while his face was exposed to her. He felt his own desires for her and hoped she read his intentions as respectful of her as a person as well as a woman.

He nodded his assent and followed her out of the closet, the bag of supplies held over a shoulder like Santa's bag of gifts. It wasn't a bad analogy, he thought. Those receiving them would have every reason to be grateful, but perhaps not at the loss of two of their members, and prime breeding stock as well, if they were looking to the future. A man could sire several children a day in the right circumstances, but it took a woman three-quarters of a year to bring one to birth. Younger women were the top commodity a community needed for the longevity of any given group.

The shoulder over his left bag and the pole in his right, he walked at her left side. They approached corners carefully and, in his opinion, had come up with a decent procedure for traveling the halls, at least ones that were believed to be safe. They passed two rooms in which dead eyes and snapping teeth stared out at them, but the noises were largely contained in the rooms and the walkers seemed unable to escape. Bear noted them and made plans not to pass too closely to them on their way out in case there was a way for the walkers to escape.

The process of entering the lab was done according to protocol, albeit a slightly amended one for Pia, and the lab lay before them. After ensuring it was secure, he set down the supplies he'd been carrying and produced a pair of green light sticks and activated them, giving one to her.

"I know we need antibiotics, bandages, tape, elastic bandages, and any braces that can be found. I can help with those. Painkillers are also something easy, but can your community control their use? You wouldn't want people to start taking them recreationally, for sev… I'm sorry, I forgot. You're the medical expert and I need to follow your direction now. How can I help, Doc?"

 

[PhoenixRising82]

She gently plucked the glow stick from his grip, a quiet thanks drifted between them even as she turned and started for a tall metal cabinet. Sweeping the glow stick over its surface, she paused with her free hand on the handle for the briefest of moments before she instead gently rapped her knuckles against the metal door and leaned a little closer to listen. One ear focused on the possibility that someone or some….thing could be locked inside of it and the other listening to him as he rattled off a list of things they certainly would need to gather.

Hearing nothing stirring within the large cabinet, she opened its doors with a measure of caution. As much as she busted his balls about things, she knew well enough that anyone could hide anywhere and anyone could hide anything anywhere, locking one of those monstrosities in a large cabinet like this wouldn’t be out of the question of course, so….sure she was being cautious.

Some of what they would need could be found within the cabinet but she was after something a little specific first. She knelt and grabbed the two bags that took up most of the cabinets floor. One, an older nylon bag that rattled slightly as she moved it around. The other, not quite as old, made far more sturdy and it was on wheels, with a pull up handle. Both bags held CPR manikin dummies, the rolling bag held some medical training necessities aside from the dummy as well.

Bringing both back over to where Bear stood, she offered him a quiet smile as she brought the red nylon bag up onto the surface of the counter they stood at. Unzipping it, she spoke softly.

”We actually can and do. We keep them locked up in what we’ve designated as a medical building in the community. Only one person has the key to the heavier drugs….being the only actual registered nurse there, that would be me. We know who has problems with overusing and who doesn’t, we monitor closely. We, being a handful of other survivors that have learned their way around a medical “facility”. And to think…..I spent a shitload of money on schooling to learn most of what I’ve taught them in crash courses.”

She snorted softly as she pulled the cpr dummy from the bag and pushed it away from them, then bent to pull the dummy from the other bag as well.

When she stood again and turned to face him directly. The glow sticks casting light and shadow across both of their features, her gaze settled directly on him. Not a single hint of anger cast in the brief spark of light that touched the gaze. Her lips pursed inward together for a moment before she let out a soft breath.

”I need your military trained muscles and an honest opinion. Not necessarily in that order.”

She chuckled, her tongue dragging across her lips before she continued.

”Ran and I came to gather at least one of the microscopes and a few of the other machines that could aid me in…..trying to find a cure for this shit show. At the very least, a vaccine that could stave off the turning. If you think it’s too much to try lugging back right now, that’s fine, we can take back the other, smaller stuff but….I will need to come back here to get these things.”

There was a determination in her eyes, she would leave the machines here should he say it would be too much right now and she wouldn’t even bust his balls about it, she had after all asked for his honest opinion on it but she had every intention of retrieving them, come hell or high water. She needed to finish what she’d started to try to accomplish at the hospital a few years back.

 

[Gwyn the Green]

Bear watched Pia approach the cabinet and follow a safe procedure in checking for the possibility of there being a walker inside of it. It was the right thing to do. In his mind's eye, he imagined a person in a white lab coat, probably quite dirty and possibly bloody. They had a panicked look on their face and moved with the classic shakiness of too much adrenaline. They turned to see a walker come into the room, its teeth clacking together as if anticipating the feel of living tissue between them. It didn't look at the person directly. His experiences had taught him they probably couldn't see well, if at all, and blinding them barely slowed them down.

He had no idea if the imaginary person knew anything about the eyesight of the walkers or even cared, but a quick look around told them there were no other exits and with more walkers coming in from the hall, there would be no escape. Seeing the cabinet, they opened it, squeezed inside, and pulled it shut until it latched. There would be no reason to believe the workings of the latch would be covered or obstructed, but it was possible the person inside wouldn't be able to maneuver enough to get enough leverage to operate it from inside. And, if they did, would they have the courage to do so?

Given their panicked and stressed situation, they probably wouldn't have lasted two days inside. And now, that imaginary person would be the thing that had frightened them into trapping themselves for temporary security. Franklin's famous saying about those who trade freedom for security deserves neither came to mind, though in a far more literal way than the old letch would have ever imagined.

That there wasn't a person trapped inside surprised him a little, but relieved him far more. It wasn't until he exhaled that he realized he'd been holding his breath and had been fixated on that one spot, ignoring the rest of the room. It was a rookie mistake and he chided himself for it at the same time he thanked a God that he didn't rationally believe in for their good fortune. He realized the entire thing had taken only a few seconds to play out. He also realized that he was far more psychologically compromised than he wanted to admit. Not that he would. Especially not when people were counting on him and needed to believe in him, perhaps more than he believed in himself.

He set himself to gathering the things a military man would expect to find in a first aid kit, including several bottles of liquid morphine, carefully wrapped in towels, a box of syringes, and another of needles. He would have loved to be able to carry several bottles of saline with them, but it was too damn heavy. He settled on a single quart of it. He'd already raided sporting goods stores for water purification tablets. He preferred them to filters because he never needed to guess or try to remember how many times a filter had been used. He carried two varieties. The serious kind that takes four hours and the ones that didn't kill cryptosporidium but work in forty minutes. He carried fewer of the latter and only used them when the time was a definite issue. He also carried collapsed two-liter bottles that had once held soda pop. While not ideal, they were relatively durable and very light. He and john carried actual canteens, and there was an abundance of water available in the lab, so they would be set for the journey tomorrow without needing to purify more.

He looked up at Pia when she spoke and while the light was dim, her laugh and the way she drew her tongue across her lips reminded him of his attraction to her in ways that both delighted and inconvenienced him, but that was his issue to deal with. He knew flirting was militarily inappropriate in the field, at least on the practical side of things, but it delighted him that she was. Her word choice had even got into the twelve-year-old boy that sat in the center of his mind, always present and always horny.

She paused as though she knew the effect she was having on him, apparently waiting for the blood to stop roaring in his ears, and he was almost disappointed that her question was of the utmost seriousness. The packs that he and John wore were for survival. As this was not an imminent, life-threatening situation, leaving them behind was not an option.

"For anything there is more than one of, we only take one." That was because there was nothing guaranteed about the success of their mission and, if they had to run, abandoning them would not be as critical. If they had to abandon anything, knowing where another was would make the loss more tolerable, and coming back for the rest, with a better plan, was something he considered to be on the table.

"How navigable is the terrain heading back? Specifically, will the trip allow for a cart without too much of a problem?" He'd already been thinking about a wheelchair for Ran. If it had been him or one of his men that lost a finger, he'd expect them to man up and do their job. They'd had the training, and the Corps made damn sure they'd had plenty of experience with inconvenience and pain.

"John's a mechanic and neither of us is incompetent, so I am confident we can mash a cart together that will last the trip, if it would help."

He used a cart in the room to stack the stuff on to get it back to "their" room without a hint of the apparent irony of saying they might need to build a cart. The one they used had four-inch wheels, and that made it impossible to navigate anywhere that wasn't a flat service. If they were going to build a cart, they'd need to scavenge wheels from a bicycle or some wheelchairs to give it a chance anywhere off-road.

Holding one of the microscopes in his hands, he was a little surprised at how heavy it was, but it would be manageable. It was more awkward than anything and seemed to be fragile. "Can you get this packed up in a way that it can take a fall and still be usable? Given why you want this, it is imperative to get it to your camp. We will get it done, but if you can help make it a little easier, that would be good."