Surviving on Realism -Ch 6-

Shoot First, Ask Questions Later
     Frankie woke with a splitting headache and a strange tingling sensation in her arm that informed her it was losing circulation. She opened her eyes hesitantly, just in case she was in an area with blindingly bright lights. She found that it wasn't too excruciatingly bright in the room, and managed to fully open her eyes without crying from the pain in her head. A quick look around revealed that she was in an infirmary of sorts, and the reason her arm was asleep, was because Landry was using it as a pillow. While she found that particularly endearing, it was also quite annoying, and she lifted his head slowly, so as not to wake him when she moved her arm. Once she had him resting comfortably on a pillow, she stood and began stretching, trying to renew the circulation.
As she did so, she walked around the small room, pausing to check on Jeannine, who's IV drip was empty. She changed the bags out and brushed her friend's hair away from her eyes. Jean hated having her hair fall into her face. When she had finished inspecting the brunette, and covered Josh with a blanket, she peeked out into the dimly lit hall. Seeing no one around, she figured it would be okay for her to wander freely and explore the warehouse.
At least, she assumed it was the warehouse. She couldn't be one hundred percent positive, since an asshole bitch slapped her in the face with a fucking rifle. Her fists clenched tightly and she growled.
"Careful. Keep making that face and it'll stick that way." Teased a light-hearted voice to her left.
Frankie whipped around, an action that made the world spin and her head split with pain. She knelt down and leaned against the cool wall until the hallway righted itself.
The boy that had spoken to her gave a low whistle and knelt down next to her, his hands shoved into his pockets.
"Lookit that shiner~! That'll stick around for a while!" He said with a wide grin, before helping Frankie to her feet, despite the glare she was giving him full force. He was African American, a little taller than her -okay, quite a bit taller than her, but definitely younger. "You must be the one that Zack pistol whipped." He continued, still staring at her eye, making it clear that it was in bad shape.
"He did not pistol whip me." Frankie spat angrily. "He punched me in my Goddamn face. With. A. Rifle." She was obviously not going to let that go any time too soon.
The boy gave her a stern look and flicked her shoulder. "Hey. Watch it with the 'GD'." He lectured before lighting up again. "Anyway, my name is Ta'Ron. No doubt Timothy told you about me." He smirked in a way that made Frankie realize that he thought he was hot shit. She laughed.
"Actually, his description of you was so painfully short was wondering if you were just a pet. But now I see that you're actually just an idiot." She rewarded his friendliness with a good dose of sarcasm, just because she felt like it.
Ta'Ron looked genuinely hurt and made Frankie feel a little bad about being so bitchy. She let out a heavy sigh and crossed her arms, staring at him a good long while before speaking again.
"I'm Frankie. Sorry about being a bitch, but you know, my head kind of hurts and I'm a bit hungry." She managed to say in a more civil tone.
Ta'Ron's grin returned almost instantaneously. "Well I know Cat had something cooking a few hours ago, so if you want, I can show you around on the way to the kitchen." He looked at her hopefully, his hands still shoved into his pockets.
The blonde chewed her lip, weighing her options. On one hand, it would be nice to be able to walk around without the constant threat of Infected, and have a meal that was real. It got tiring eating stale food that they had scrounged up from looted convenient stores and SuperMarts. On the other hand... She couldn't come up with a good argument to keep Ta'Ron away from her, so with a backwards glance toward the infirmary, she nodded, letting him lead the way.
     Ta'Ron talked a lot, as it turned out, but he also knew almost everything that went on in the warehouse, as well as the city around it. In the ten minutes they had been walking around, she learned the schedule, who did what jobs, and some information that she could have spent her whole life not knowing.
When he finished telling her about the security measures in the warehouse, she quickly spoke up, in case he was going into another long spiel.
"So... What do you do Ta'Ron? There's the Scouters, Runners and Home team, plus the Demo Team. You're part of the Home team, right?" Frankie asked, trying to straighten everything out in her head. It was proving to be a bit difficult.
Ta'Ron hesitated before shrugging. "I guess I'm Intel. I used to be on Timothy's Scout team, but..." He trailed off and shrugged once more. That sparked Frankie's interest. She had a certain fondness for secrets and gossip.
"But what? What happened?" She turned away from the window she had been staring out of and looked at him intently. His cheeks flamed and he shook his head.
"Aren't you hungry? Let's go." He didn't speak the entire way to the kitchen.

     Landry woke with a start, unsure of where he was of why Frankie wasn't where she had been before he fell asleep. Before he started panicking, he took a deep breath and shook his head. She was probably looking around the warehouse for some food. Frankie was always hungry. So if he just went and looked, then he'd find her, no problem.
He gave a firm nod and slipped out of the tiny bed. Looking at it now, he was surprise they had both fit on it. Of course, they'd managed to getting into smaller spaces before. He left the room quietly and trailed his hand on the wall as he walked, lost in his thoughts.
     Two months. It had only been two months since the 'Green Flu' broke out and the world was already in this state. He doubted that he'd have lived without Frankie, especially the first hellish weeks. She found him hiding in the cellar of his house, looking as dingy and sick as the Infected she had killed to get inside.
"Hey kid? Are you all right? You're not one of them, are you?" She'd been watching him with that same cocky grin she always had, but her gun was still raised to shoot. He hardly believed that she came back for him, not only that first, terrifying moment, but the others as well. And there were a lot of times. She always forced him to go to the safest place while she took on the world.
"I'll come back for you." Was what she always said, and he never doubted her. Frankie always came back for him. A little more ragged perhaps, and always bleeding, but she always came back. At that time, he had been positive that Frankie could take on anything, and nothing would stop her.
   With a snort, he brought himself back to the present. He didn't doubt that Frankie could take on the world, though now he knew it would be out of sheer stubbornness and pure stupidity, not the superhuman powers he once imagined that she had. Still, it was an entertaining thought, and he was still snickering when he nearly tripped over a young girl with short brown hair.
"Shit!" He yelped as he took a quick step back to avoid falling on her. She glared up at him and stood, brushing herself off. Her attire reminded him strongly of a Hunter's, except for the bright colours of the material, and the badges and patches that decorated her hoodie. Her pants were dirty and cuffed with holes in the knees, and the jacket she was now peeling off looked just as unclean.
"What are you looking at?" She asked suddenly, her hands placed firmly on her hips. She stood directly in his path, effectively preventing him from continuing his search for Frankie.
"I-I uhm..." She caught him off guard and he was left stammering, unsure of what he was supposed to say. Very suddenly, she broke into a wide grin.
"A, don't look so sad! I'm just teasing you. The name is Xouzalinn! I just got back from a Run, so just ignore my mess."
Well that explained it. Timothy had explain the Runners to him while they were driving into the city. Xouzalinn was part of the team that delivered supplies and messages to the Scouter teams in the city. He gave her a quick smile and a little wave.
"I'm Landry. We just got here earlier today." He explained shortly as Xouzalinn tapped her foot.
"Y'all are you first living visitors we've had in quite sometime." She said, looking impressed. She then paused, looking thoughtful. "Your friend Frankie. You said she was the one that came into the city to get help right?"
Landry nodded. "Yeah. It was the only chance we had."
The green eyed girl gave a short laugh. "Aw man. I guess that's the girl I saw climbing the fence. She nearly lost her hand to our bear traps." Xouzalinn giggled some more. "I thought she was a hostile, so I ran to B team and told Timothy to go check it out." She shrugged, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "My bad."
Landry rolled his eyes, but the Runner's smile was contagious, and he soon found himself grinning along with her as they began to walk down the gloomy hallway. She told animated stories to fill the silence, using her hands for emphasis so wildly he was surprised her arms didn't hurt. She punched the air and pulled the sling shot from her belt as she reenacted one of her more dangerous Runs.  They were both laughing loudly by the time they made it to the kitchen, and exchanging survival stories with an easy companionship.
     Frankie was sitting on a counter, talking with Cat and Ta'Ron when the younger survivors stepped into the room, laughing up a storm. She fell silent and watched them for a moment, a small smile on her lips. She hadn't heard Landry laugh like that for ages. It felt good to see him smile again, without the haunted look in his eyes.
On a whim she checked her watch for the date and sucked in a sharp intake of breath. It was that day already?
"Frankie! I was looking for you!" Landry chirped, making his way to her side. He frowned at the sight of her eye, but said nothing of it. Catherine smiled warmly at him before return to the grilled cheese sandwiches that were cooking on a fairly large griddle.
The blonde smiled brightly for her young friend and caught him in a headlock. "You knew I'd come back, dork. There was no reason to go running off alone." Like she had room to talk.
Landry squirmed around, trying to free himself from her hold, but found it impossible. He maneuvered to a more comfortable position and waved Xouzalinn over.
"Frankie, this is one of the Runners Timothy was telling us about. Her name is Xouza. Xouza, this is Frankie."
Frankie released her hold on Landry to slid off the counter and greet the girl, but the brunette rushed forward and enveloped her in a tight hug.
"I love your jacket." She cooed, plucking at one of the bright blue sleeves.
Frankie blinked a few times before laughing with surprise. "Uhm... Thanks, I guess?" She finally said, shrugging slightly and grinning. "Oh that's right! Landry, you haven't met Ta'Ron yet. He's been showing me around the warehouse."
The two introduced themselves and talked amiably together while they waited for the sandwiches to finish cooking.  
When they were all more or less sitting at the table and had food in front of them, the conversation slowed to a comfortable lull.
"How does your head feel, Frankie?" Catherine inquired politely, scanning the blonde's face for any sign of pain or discomfort.
"Mmff nng dagooy." Frankie tried to say around a mouthful of food. The result was a mash of gibberish. With a slight frown she squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to swallow the bite she had taken, though it was too large. Gagging and coughing followed shortly after.
With Landry pounding on her back, she was eventually able to breath again, though the others laughed at her failed attempt at eating.
"Ugh. I was going to say that it doesn't hurt that bad, but choking gave me a monster headache." She finally managed to answer.
Catherine nodded thoughtfully and walked over to a small pack that was sitting on the counter. After rummaging around in it for quite some time, she withdrew a small bottle of painkillers, and gave Frankie one.
"That should help with the headache, and the swelling on your forehead."
With a word of thanks, Frankie downed the rest of her water and the pill.
     Josh chose that moment to walk into the kitchen, yawning widely.
"I smelled food." He said with a grin. "It woke me up. May I have some, Miss Catherine?"

     The rest of the day flew by smoothly, something the survivor team wasn't used to. They did enjoy getting clean clothes while their others were washed, eating real food at regular times and most of all: Working indoor plumbing. Even Jeannine had woke up long enough for a quick shower. But by the time the sun was disappearing behind the tall buildings, they were restless and antsy again. They had learned that staying in one place for too long was a bad idea, and they had learned it the hard way. They weren't too keen on repeating the experience. Still, they needed to stay for at least a few days, to recollect themselves and prove that they were still human. The day to day routine that was so ingrained into their brains kept them all on edge.
Wake up, pack, move. Get somewhere safe and don't die. Now that they were able to relax without any threats, they found it near impossible.
Eventually, even Catherine grew weary of their constant pacing, and sent them all to bed.
     Josh and Landry made their way back to the infirmary, where Jean was already asleep, blanket tucked up to her chin. Frankie bade them goodnight and promised she would return shortly.
Earlier that day, she had seen a staircase that she assumed would lead to the roof. Upon further investigation, she discovered that she was right. The roof was set up like one of the safe rooms they had stopped at. minus the ceiling. Very cautiously, Frankie climbed one the ladders to peer over the wall at the city sprawled out beneath her. The view took her breath away.
Dying sunlight reflected back and forth on the glass sides of tall buildings, like a crazy fun-house maze. If she didn't know that it was the middle of a zombie apocalypse, then she might have said it was-
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Timothy said from her side. She had been so distracted that she hadn't heard him approach.
"Yeah, I guess it really is." Frankie murmured quietly, a slight crease forming between her eyebrows. "Timothy, why do you want to leave this place and come with us? You're safe here, and there's no guarantee of that with my ragtag group."
The red head didn't answer for a long time, as though he were mulling over something difficult.
"Because I want to find my sister. I know she's alive somewhere out there, waiting for me to come back."
The words struck a chord in Frankie and she turned, giving him her full attention. "What happened? Why did you leave her?"
Timothy laughed and settled down against the wall to begin his story.
     "When the Infection hit my city, it hit hard. There were supposed to be buses, right, that were going to come and evac the Immunes. But they never showed up. People panicked, and tried to get out of the city anyway they could. Cars, bikes, hell, even walking. But no one made it out. We had been quarantined like sick animals. It spread fast. If you weren't immune, you didn't stand a chance. If you were... well, then you still didn't stand much of a chance."
He paused, seeing some scene that Frankie doubted he'd ever forget.
"My parents weren't immune. I watched them... I saw..." Unable to form the words, he shook his head and skipped to a different part.
"There was a group of Immunes that had banded together. They were ruthless. If you couldn't keep up, then they'd leave you. If you were injured, they would shoot you in the kneecaps and take all of your weapons, all your ammo. Their motto was 'Shoot first, ask questions later'. Makala and I eventually caught up to them in the sewers. They agreed to let us follow them to escape the city, bu it was no skin off their back if we fell behind."
"Makala never was very good with guns. She even sucked at video games. But she had a steel baseball bat that she was deadly with. We managed to get out of that city. Even when the Immunes ditched us, we made it all the way to a safe house by ourselves. By pure luck, there was still an active radio, calling for any Immunes for Evac. We were overjoyed. Finally! Something was going right!" The small smile that had been playing on his lips faded.
"We held out at the house, waiting for our rescue vehicle to come. Just when we were starting to wear down and lose hope, an armoured bus arrived, ready to pick up the Survivors. But the Private driving the bus had rescued a mother and her child on his was to get us, and his orders were to only rescue a certain amount of people. We tried pleading, begging, even bribing. I could tell that it was tearing him up. If he could, this man would have saved everyone."
Timothy stopped speaking for a long time, his eyes squeezed shut. His mouth worked silently for a moment, and he was trying hard not to cry. Despite his best efforts, a few tears escaped anyway.
"I forced Makala to get on the bus. She was screaming at me, saying that she didn't want to get separated. The Private understood, and some of the men on the bus restrained my sister. With a salute, they drove off. I was alone for a long time after that."
Frankie wiped a few tears from her eyes, her throat constricted painfully. "I see. You want to come with us to find Makala."
He didn't answer, but she knew it to be truth.
"Well I don't see the problem with that. We'll kick ass and take names until we find the Community she was sent to."
They shared a smile and shook on the promise. It was going to be shoot first, ask questions later from here on out.