Urban Dead: The Price of the Oath

[Caz]

"We'll see," she said rather pessimistically.

"If not, I have something for you," she said. "Check the pocket of my jacket... Wherever they put it."

[Josh]

"I'll go get it," he said, standing up and looking around, waving for a nurse. After a moment, he collected her jacket and stuffed his hand into the pocket, pulling out a half-eaten Powerbar. Assuming that wasn't what she meant, he checked the other pocket.

[Caz]

Inside, although it was robbed of its shiny display and the velvet-lined box was the Malton Cross of Honour he'd received several years before.

"I... Had the girl grab it for you when you were sleeping. You had it on... A fucking bookshelf."

[Josh]

He stared at it for a long moment. She probably wouldn't like to know that the reason it wasn't in the display box was due to his using the box to prop up his couch. The old 'Bowling League Award', he used to call it. How the hell it ended up on a bookcase, he wasn't sure, but...

He reached over and lifted her head gently, sliding the medal around her neck.

"You earned this one, Trouble," he said with a smile. "You can give it back to me when things get back to normal and we get you one of your own."

[Caz]

"Petro, I can't..." She started. She tried to lift it from off of herself but simply didn't have the strength or range of motion.

"You earned this... Saving my worthless ass. Shouldn't throw it away."

[Josh]

"You earned it saving everyone here. Call it a loaner," he said, squeezing her shoulder. He held up the medal in front of her face. "Any time you start doubting, just reach down and touch it, proof that you got what it takes. Hear me?"

[Caz]

"I'm not doubting jack shit," she said with a cough. "I'd say you were throwing it away if you gave it to the fucking Pope."

She took a deep breath.

"What I meant is.. It's yours... You know?"

[Josh]

He shook his head. "You don't get it. You're the hero here."

[Caz]

The words hit her like a ton of bricks.

"I..." she started, but couldn't finish. "I'm the hero."

Not a question, just a repitition. To see how it sounded on her own tongue.

It sounded fucking golden.

[Josh]

"Like I said, we'll get you one of your own when we can, but for the moment, there you go."

What was the line? Pretty bits of metal and ribbon that people would die for? He never cared about the damned thing, he hadn't been looking for it when he'd gone into the building. But finally he'd gotten something more useful than propping up his couch out of it. He flashed her a bright grin.

[Josh]

She smiled. "Thank you," she said with a bit of difficulty. "This means a lot coming from you." She sighed so deeply it felt like her lungs had deflated. "I grew up in a politician's home... You're the only decent, honest man I'd ever met when you saved me. It was stupid, I know, but... I fucking revered you."

He rubbed his face, his cheeks tingling with a blush. Sincere admiration always got to him like this. "People like you made the job worth doing," he said finally.

"May be a different job now, but don't we still?" she asked.

"Yeah, -we- do, don't we?" he said.

"I don't get it," she said.

"We do the job," he said. "Sorry, brain's a little fuzzy."

She smirked but didn't say a damn thing. "Could I ask you a favour?" she asked quietly.

"Sure, anything," he said earnestly.

"Could you send that tall guy back down?" she asked. "I never got a chance to thank him..."

He opened his mouth, then remembered his last 'chat' with Gil. "I'll send for him," he said in a strange tone. "Sure."

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Noooothing. It's just that, well, I, ah, see, kind tossed a bottle off the side of the building last night and, sorta, y'know, conked his head a bit, so... I'll send for him!"

She burst into laughter. While the sound was a relief to hear, it soon erupted into a violent coughing fit.

"Whoa," he said, grasping her shoulders. "Easy now."

She coughed for a good ten more seconds, then fell still, barely breathing. But she was smirking.

He leaned over, kissing her forehead, then held the medal up where she could see it before laying it back down.

"My lungs feel like they're... Full of steel wool," she rasped.

"Just take it easy and let the docs get you fixed up," he admonished. "You'll get better, Mike'll see to that. Just work with him, okay?"

She coughed again, her eyelids fluttering as though nearly going to sleep. Nonsensically, she said: "I forgot to congratulate Melanie about the baby..."

"I'll tell her you said so. She'll be passing through sometime after breakfast, you can see her," he promised. "She works in here."

"Really?" Gwen asked, surprised.

"Oh yeah," he said. "She's hands-on with her job."

"Maybe... You're the lucky one," she breathed.

"I'm the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet," he said. "You want me to go get Gil now?"

"Maybe... In a while," she said. "All this talking has been..." She couldn't think of the word.

"It's okay," he said. "Rest up. He'll be by to see you, and you can take a swing at dragging him into the bed with ya."

She laughed weakly. "How about that other guy, too? I don't remember anyone well..."

"Yeah, he's still out doing his thing," Which reminded him, he really needed to slide out and see Reaper later on.

She didn't quite understand what he meant by that, but she didn't have the energy to ask. Her eyes drooped closed. "Thanksagain..." She mumbled.

He leaned over, giving her a sort-of hug, pressing his stubbly cheek to hers. "Keep fighting, Trouble. We're going to get through this. See you in a bit."

She murmured something, but it was too soft and too slurred to hear. Probably another thank you .

He grabbed a nurse, telling him to tell Gil to drop by in an hour or two.

[Josh]

Petro trotted out of the infirmary, heading for a meeting with Frank to go over the situation, and then breakfast with Melanie, when he passed by the punk and her doctor.

As he passed, she relinquished the poor man to his work. Sherry then waved for Petro to slow a bit as she jogged up to him, anxious to leave the sights, sounds, and most importantly the smells of the infirmary. She didn't belong near that shit--wasnt trained and wasn't hurt. "Hey," she said with a subdued smile.

"Hey," he said back. He didn't wait or give her any warning for what was coming next.

"The 1st is yours, for the time being. Get them ready to roll for this evening."

She fumbled her step, then paused stock-still. "What?"
"What, your ears go bad? Can't run a unit if you can't listen," he said, slowing down to a walk.

She caught up to him. "But..." /I couldn't even run the fucking Blackcaps... You can't trust me with this... They're Steve's... He's going to get better.../ The responses were all there, but she didn't dare to say one, to shirk this responsibility. "Okay," she said instead.

He stopped to look at her. There was no sympathy or paternal comfort in his expression. "You'll do the job," he said. "Now, what do we need to get you to do the job?" he asked as he resumed walking.

"Nothing," she said. "I'm there." The grim realisation knotted her stomach and seemed to calcify inside her.

"Not what I asked. You need to find out what team status is, ammo and weapons stocks. You can figure on short-range hops for the next few days, clearing this horde off my god damned mall. We've got them on the ropes. By tomorrow, I want them gone."

She nodded sharply. "I'll snag Lenny and Harv," she said. They couldn't kill all the zombies, they knew that, but they could spike down as many as they could andâ€â€

[Dark Silver]

From where she laid in the bed next to his, Gwen could hear Silver's mumbling and murmuring in his sleep as though he was saying it to someone nearby. She watched him for a moment, then leaned over and put a hand on his arm. "Hey," she said, "wake up?"

"You're having a bad dream."

The touch on his arm startled him, his eyes opening wide, and once more he was upright in the bed, head twitching. He didn't scream though, not this time, the look on his face was one of utter disorientation. His eyes, unfocused though they were, slowly panned to the direction of the voice, from where the touch had come from.

"Where...who.." he stammered the words, his tongue thick in his mouth.

She coughed, sat up as best she could. "Over here," she said hoarsely. Since the blood transfusion, she'd been feelingbetter, but that didn't change the fact that she had been starving and in shock when they'd found her.

"You were... Having a nightmare or something," the woman said.

His eyes remained unfocused, his face slack and vacant, as it finally settled on Gwen's general direction. Slowly, his vision was clearing, but not quick enough for him. His words were slow in coming..."Where.....am.....I.."

She sat up a bit more so that he could see her, make eye contact. Her side burned, but she'd live. Well, hopefully.

"Back at the Caiger Mall," she said.

He didn't even seem to hear her , at first. It took a few moments, before his head bobbed in what could be vaguely called a nod.

His bare feet swung around, off the bed, and touched the cold floor. "Caiger..." he said the words blandly

She smiled as supportively as one in her situation could. "Melanie and Petro came by to see you, but they didn't want to wake you."

As he rose she watched him. Apparently, he was cut to ribbons and was more than a little woozy. A bit like herself at the moment.

He didn't seem interested, eyes still unfocused, his legs somewhat weak....

But he willed them to hold....and they did. For a while ten seconds.

When he tried to take a step away, pain lanced through the appendages, and he fell to his knees, breathing heavily, his jaw tightening, yet he didn't scream, the only thing which stopped him from falling on his face, was the fact a arm had caught the makeshift bed.

"Caiger...Petro....Melanie......." he repeated the words tonlessly...they fit somewheres.....

"Hey, hey!" she rasped, coughing into a fist. "Be careful!" She wanted to get to her feet, to help him, but she knew that would only end in disaster. "My name's Gwendolyn," she said quietly, hoping to just keep him focused.

"Gwen.,...dolyn..." he was repeating what she said, if slowly. It was obvious he still wasn't all there, moving and talking more by instinct than nature.

Slowly, he forced himself to his feet, turning back to that voice, head canting to the right as his gaze seemed to focus for a pure second, and he let himself collapse back into the bed, which groaned with his size.

"Careful there," she warned. "You seem to be 'bout where I am right now," she said with a sick chuckle. But at least she was trying. As she laughed, she felt something shift beneath her skin. Most likely broken ribs. She pulled the blankets down, staring at the bandaged wound. "Ah, fuck, that's it," she groaned, "bring the pain."

"Pain....."

That word carried some emotion to it, some sembelence of life, as he focused on her, as if for the first time recognizing her. Yes, he remembered pain.

"Yeah," she said. "Pain. It's what keeps the bastards like you and I going, seems like," she said with a bit of a laugh. "Say, you wouldn't know where a girl could get a smoke around here, would you?"

"Horde....shamblers....explosions...." it all came back to him then, the rush of memories. He grabbed his head as he leaned forward, a groan starting off, building into a moan, then a cry of frustration.


"Jamie...Punt....Melanie....Chase....Chad..." the names rolled off his lips, in a keening tone, as his eyes closed tightly, holding his head...her question not ignored, simply unheard in the moment

"Don't worry," she said. "It kind of comes back in a rush, but you look like a tough motherfucker," she said with a smile. In the meantime, she ignored the growing pain in her side from the rotting wound. Fuck it. He was tough, so was she.

He lifted his head, looking around for a moment, and for the first time, truly seeing the young woman. His eyes narrowed, and he made to get up, but thought better of it, remembering his legs.

"Last I remember...we had blown the charges....I hadn't cleared the final charge intime.....it blew...."

The entire encounter with Wendigo Reaper was gone for him, he didn't remember any of it.

"I crawled..."

"I shouldn't be alive..." he said matter of factly, with only a trace of wonder to the words.

"Like I said," she said with a cockeyed grin. "Tough bastard."

He watched her for a minute, his eyes sharp now he was coming around, still having retained the odd coloration from his time, irridescant silver streaked with blue. His lips only curling upwards slightly, the closest she'd get out of him for now in a grin, "Yeah......so the saying goes....."

"Fuck sayings," she said with a harsh cough. "I go by my own little words of wisdom, baby." She was mostly playing down her injuries and playing up her optimism for his sake, but that was what Gwen usually did. When she wasn't out causing trouble and getting caught fucking Petro at honours banquets.

"Lay back down" he said, his tone slipping into the same one he used when giving orders to the Militia or the Second, it left no question if he expected to be obeyed. "I haven't seen you here before...where you from?"

"They found me in Petro's apartment," she said, taking a pillow and leaning over it, watching him. The tone he used was commanding, but Gwen hadn't ever been one for following orders. Besides, as long as she didn't directly put any pressure on... Well... Anything, the pain wasn't so bad.

"Petro's apartment?" Silver raised a eyebrow at that one, his arms tightening for a bit, the muscles in both chest and arms, though sore, becoming defined, before he let them relax.

"I hope you weren't waiting for him...I don't think he's been back there since all this started..."

She laid back down, not having the energy to really sit up. "He was there," she said.

"So...he picked you up on the way then?" his voice was still toneless and flat.

"No," she said. "There was... An attack on the school in Gulsonside." A brief cough, which she stifled into her arm. "Only survivor. He and Sherry found me sleeping in a dumpster. Took me back to his place to recuperate while they went on to Necrotech."

Silver nodded, he hadn't heard about the attack on the school, yet he didn't keep up with the news coming out of Downtown.

"Your lucky then....imagine it couldn't have been easy to keep kicking down there....."

"No," she said sadly, "nobody I know other than Petro made it." A coughing fit. "My father," and she said it because she was used to having to say it, "the mayor," and didn't realise her mistake... "I don't think he made it either..." She paused a half-beat. "I wouldn't have made it if it weren't for that strange man..."

Silver shrugged, the Mayor's daughter, well, ex-mayor...the man certainly wasn't in office anymore, even if he was alive. "Then your lucky..." He spun on the bed, just enough so he could lay down, his body settling back onto the matress, looking up at the ceiling, "You lived."

"Dr. Dorian said he saved you, too," she said.

Silver shook his head, staring at the ceiling. He closed his eyes, trying to recall what happened after the explosion. "Don't know nothing about it....I don't remember what happened after the C4 went off."

"Oh," she said, sounding a little disappointed. "I was hoping you might know where he was... Wanted to thank him." She coughed. "He said some strange shit, though."

He shrugged again, opening his eyes. "Nope....sorry....can't help you on that..." he said the words softly...

That was puzzling him....what did happen to him after the explosion? Why the hell couldn't he remember it now...

"Guess I might not get the chance to thank him anyway," she said with a bitter laugh. "This virus fucking sucks."

The hrmph which left him caused his body to shake. His head turned to look at her, "Girl...you have no idea" he said with a bit of mirth in his voice, sarcastic as it was.

She smiled weakly. "I lived with this new mutation in a dumpster for a week. I convinced Petro to kill me," she said, "but instead I stayed up... Warned the mall about the horde as it came in..."

"I got attacked by a group of four a month and a half back, died, became one, and lead a small horde against this Mall. They brought me back....only to start slowly turning back into one of them due to a mutated form of whatever the fuck it is....and because my state, Sherry, a member of Petro's 1st, ended up dead."

He said it evenly, and bluntly, all the while, looking into her face.

"I'm sorry," she said flatly. Gwen wasn't one to come to when you needed sympathy, because frankly, she was a self-centred person. Then she realised something. "But Sherry was there... When they found me."

"Yeah....can't keep the kid down"

Silver wasn't looking for sympathy when he told her that, he just said it. He really didn't know why. "She's a tough one..."

"Yeah," Gwen said with a bit of a smirk. "She is." A moment later, to explain, she said: "First thing she did was slap the shit outta me when she found me."

"Yep....that's Sherry" he said with a half smirk on his lips, which faded not long after he finished the sentence.

"So... Whore you?" she asked, taking a deep breath. Her throat and lungs felt like they'd been rubbed raw with steel wool, and although she was thirsty, she wasn't about to bounce up and get a drink.

"A man whose made alot of mistakes..."

He said those words seemingly half dazed, "They call me Silver..." he said in a better reply to her question, though he didn't offer her his hand, or looked at her.

"Because of your eyes?" she asked, remembering how they'd been when she'd seen his face. "They're beautiful... There's not even a colour for 'em."

The chuckle was soft, in reply to her question, "No....not because of my eyes...Silver is my last name......Darek Silver...formerly Detective Darek Silver, of the Malton Police Department, Havercroft Precient...."

"Oh," she said stupidly.

"Darek Silver...Commander of the Second Irregulars....former Commander.....I don't know what happened after I ordered the evac....before the C4 went off...." His voice trailed then....breaking off.

"I know how it is," she said quietly. "I don't remember the fire... When Petro rescued me. I was just a girl then... Scared me half to piss though." Not really small talk; she was actually interested. The last group she'd stayed with had been a bunch of terrified idiots. In order to have survived cuts like that, this guy needed balls. Which was something Malton seemed to be lacking. And he'd have undoubtedly heard of the daring firefighter's rescue of the helpless socialite.

"So....the 1st made it back then...." he said slowly, "I didn't think Petro would have made it back intime....I'm glad to see the fireworks slowed them down enough....." He inhaled slowly, his chest rising, then falling as he let it out, "I'm glad he made it back...saves me the trouble of going out after him....."

"Like you're in any condition to," Gwen said. Not mockingly or derisively, but just a comment.

"It wouldn't matter if I was or not.....I would have gone." Another slow, deep breath, his words were starting to slur just abit, the begining signs of fatigue, that he was starting to fall asleep... "Heda done itsh fer me....."

"Brothers....till the end..." he mummbled out

She smiled earnestly, although he couldn't see it. "You must be a good man," she said. "If he trusts you, so do I."

"Notta good man...." the pain showed through on his face...the pain of a man who had lost everything, in the blink of a eye, as he looked to Gwen. It was a face none had seen as fa as Silver knew, not even Petro, though it may have slipped out in his incoherent ramblings since being brought in. "I let Jamie die....our son die.....notgoodman..." the sentence was heavily slurred towards the end, words running into each other, as his eyes began to flutter....sleep called him again....blessed sleep.

Although she knew he was unconscious, she stared for a good few moments. "But you still care that you did," she said quietly, which made him a better person than half of those left alive in Malton. With a bit of a sigh, she closed her eyes. Sleep didn't come as easy as it did for him.

[Caz]

Melanie had originally plodded down to the infirmary to check in on Gwendolyn. However, upon finding the girl asleep, she'd made her usual rounds of checking to see who was working where and who was ready to be discharged.

Instead, she discovered Dorian changing sheets.

Dorian who wasn't supposed to be working for three days.

"What?" she said, "You don't think Ace can do his job without you or something?"

The man sighed and adjusted his glasses, adopting a scholarly tone. "You know," he said, "I'd feel utterly bored if I took three whole days off. And don't say you wouldn't."

She conceded that point; they finished her rounds together.

[Caz]

As they neared the trauma ward, Melanie glanced up to the tall man. "How's Steve?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head. "No better. Seizures are frequent, closest he's come to consciousness is mumbling a little, and it wasn't even coherent words." Sighing, he regarded her as sincerely as he could. "I know he's important to the chief, Mel, but there's nothing left in there. His body's only still alive because I resuscitated him twice and his medulla wasn't damaged."

She'd made this a personal battle and vehemently shook her head. But she didn't have words to contradict him with.

"Check on him if you want," Dorian said with a shrug. "It won't change anything."

"That's what they said about you," she said, "when we found you..."

He leveled eyes with her. "I was conscious, Melanie. I was fucked up, but I was conscious."

She disappeared behind the curtain with a huff.

[Caz]

As she inspected the broken man, Melanie wasn't surprised to see that Dorian had been right. He wasn't one to offer any platitudes.

"God damn it," she said, standing.

His hip was shattered, blood pooling in his left leg. The right's shin was snapped, the compound fracture repaired and splinted awkwardly as they didn't have the proper supplies to handle that sort of trauma. They also couldn't deal with things like skull fractures, which were a certainty in this case as well...

She'd not spoken much to the man when they'd been introduced, but...

"Don't make him lose anyone else," she said under her breath, remembering how distraught Petro had been after Sherry had killed herself. The man's loyalty was a fierce thing.

There was, of course, no response to the words.

"You're just going to die like that and leave him sore?" she hissed, nonsensical with anger. "Fuck you, then. The least you can do for someone who holds you so high up is live."

She stared at the floor.

"Why am I even talking to you?" she said hopelessly.

After changing the dressings of the cuts on his face, she left without admonishing Dorian further.

[Josh]

He was on the way back from Frank's office when he spotted Melanie leaving the infirmary. "Hey red!" he shouted, waving.

"Says you," she said playfully, her own wave less 'idiot waving from the top of a high building' and more coy. She took only a few steps, leaving him to be the one to jog over. Her heart was rather heavy at the moment.

He trotted over, slinging an arm around her waist. "Buy you breakfast?"

She smiled, kissing his cheek. "Don't worry, I'm a cheap date," she said with a wink. "Can't fit much in thirty-eight kilos."

"Yeah, but you're eating for two now," he said cheerfully. "C'mon, let's go get some food in you."

She sighed. "For every stupid baby-cliché you make, I'll not throttle you," she said, allowing her hand to slip beneath the hem of his shorts and tickle his hip a little. As they headed toward the cafeteria, she exhaled as much of the anxiety as she could. But his proximity helped.

"Good, 'cause I've been studying up on them. You're too kind." He snagged her hand, grinning at her. "Not ticklish, remember?"

She grinned. "I wasn't trying to tickle you," she said. "I just love your skin."

"So do I. It covers my body, after all." He swept into the cafeteria. "Cooks! Two bowls of the finest gruel! We have heroic appetites and a baby to feed!"

"Almost as nice as your hair," she said, toying with said hair idly as they plunked down at a table. At any given time there were always a certain amount of people in the cafeteria, which was actually just a section of the mall that used to have a pretzel stand that they'd stuffed full of tables and chairs. Chatter and idle humming seemed to be the soundtrack.

He snagged a couple of bowls of steaming stew and plopped one down in front of her, along with a spoon, then slid into the chair next to her, smiling and waving at the occasional greetings. "Eat up while it's hot," he said, diving in. "I think it's cow instead of rat today."

"All the rats have frozen to death," she pointed out, taking a few quick bites and savouring the taste. "I love that they've run out of everything but salt to put in it," she said cheerfuly.

"Heh, got several around here. Sherry and Mike's cats seem to be doing good," he said as he spooned up a mouthful.

She snickered a bit at that, but didn't say a damn thing.

He was remarkably quiet himself, slurping down hot stew like it was going out of style. "Fuck," he said as he spooned out the last bit. "Amazing how quick you can get spoiled by hot food. I've missed this shit."

She nodded, if a bid sadly, then said: "Yeah..." There was a brief pause and she divulged: "The latest Guard patrol to come in says they're finding zeds without a scratch on 'em. People are starving and freezing to death."

"Well, with a supply line opened we're going to be able to pull more of them in here," he said. As if on cue, somebody ran into the cafeteria. "There's a plane flying over!"

She was on her feet, bowl forgotten, and wasn't sure whether to feel excited or nervous as fuck at the notion. Who knew if it was Necrotech? It could be the RAF ready to tidy up a bit...

He was already running out the door, shoving past people heedlessly as he raced for the roof with his odd hobble-sprint.

She kept stride easily, as he wasn't exactly a sprinter like he used to be, and as they threw the roof's door open--only to be blasted with cold air--Melanie let out a tiny squeak. Yeah. Cold.

He kept going, watching as a the transport swooped low over the mall, the rear door opening. "YES!" he shouted as the first container dropped inside the perimeter.

She watched, then all but tackled Petro as she threw her arms around him, hopping excitedly and NOW waving like an idiot from the top of a high building. "Baby, you saved us," she said, kissing him.

He let out a howling whoop right in her face as he hoisted her up into a huge hug and kiss. Then he suddenly let her go as others started filtering onto the roof. "Alright! Roof sentries, down to the supplies! Everyone else stand by to get 'em inside! MOVE, people! We've got work to do!"

She stood beside him as he gave the order, then couldn't help but embrace him and holler yet again as the Beechcraft turned back for a second run within the perimeter, flapping the slats on its wings in greeting.

He pumped his fist in the air at it once, then headed for the droplines. Eschewing the elevator, he clambered over the side, heading for the ground.

And she was scrambling down the other side, to help the south side of the mall and its sentries gather the containers that had fallen in that area. The boxes weren't hard to spot: bright green against the white snow. She was the first to reach one, tried to lift it, and couldn't budge the goddamn thing.

"Al, Carl, perimeter watch," he barked out. "Don't let anything sneak up on us. Everyone else, let's get these sons of bitches moving..." he ordered, then started to attempt to lift one of the boxes, also to discover they were heavy as hell. "What the fuck did they put in these things?" he asked rhetorically. "Fucking lead?"

Melanie had already found a solution, being the quick thinker that she was, and was pushing one of the crates toward the elevator across the slick snow.

The trick caught on all around, as they started shoving crates back toward the wall. He looked up at the elevator. "Hope it can take the strain," he said, as they teamed up to lift the first crate onto the platform. The ropes creaked mightily as the people topside struggled to crank the heavy crate up. Frank's head appeared over the roof, watching the whole process with his usual grim expression.

"Might be easier to take the shit out of them and use these for fucking barricades," Melanie said with a grin as she reached him, cheeks already flushed from the cold. The splash of colour enhanced her smile and the sparkle in her eyes: it suited her. Using the head of a crowbar, one of the sentries managed to pry one of the crates open. It held four smaller wooden crates inside.

"Don't get into them until they're inside," he ordered. God knows, if they opened everything up here and now, who knew what they'd lose to pilferage. He watched the first crate reach the roof and get moved over the edge, slamming down with a heavy thump. "Get the work team organized," he shouted up to Frank. "You know, your thing!" Frank nodded back and turned to begin giving orders as Petro headed out to collect the last crate.

Melanie jogged out beside him as the team at the elevator figured out the trick of removing the wooden crates as opposed to attempting to yank the heavy wooden counterparts. In a moment of childish whimsy, she grabbed him from behind, causing them to tumble into the snow as she kissed him.

"Hey!" he yelled, grabbing a handful of snow and tossing it into her face as he rolled.
She squealed and deflected the powder with her arms, unable to keep back the laughter in her high spirits.

"Got work to do," he admonished her as he slid up. "And fuck, it's cold out here!"

She laughed. "I know!" she said, helping him as they bodily shoved the crate back toward the building. "Isn't it wonderful?"

As the crate slammed home against the wall, he leaned over to kiss her. "Never been so damned happy to see a winter in my life."
As he pulled back, she smiled. Improving upon the statement despite its truth: "I've never been so damned happy /in/ my life."

He flashed her a bright grin as they started moving the smaller crates out. Up above, there were happy shouts and yells. Apparently Frank had started sorting out the contents of the crates.

Melanie picked up two lids of the metal crates and handed them to him. "Let me show you something with these later," she said with a studious nod as they stumbled up the snowy hill that had formed around the base of the mall due to the piles of various junk around it.

"You got it," he said as he jumped up to grab one of the knotted lines and began tugging himself back up the wall. Everyone who lived in the mall had been getting great upper body workouts over the past couple of months.

She followed him, easily hopping up over the side and waiting for him as he clambered up. She then wrapped her arms around his waist and proceeded to give the crowd on the roof their second show in the last few minutes.

The crowd was a tad too interested in the crates to really notice their show, though. Zimmerman barked orders, working to keep everything moving too fast for anyone to get funny ideas. He held her close, shivering. "We did it," he said. "We fucking did it."

She took his hand between hers and rubbed it quickly, trying to warm him up but really not feeling the cold herself. "Where are we going to do it now that that pile of empty crates is in our spot?" she whispered.

"Find another one," he whispered back. "I've never been big on repeating myself anyway."

"Not gonna comment on that one," she said with a wink.

"Bitch," he smirked at her as he trotted over to see what all the shouting was about. Hard rations, stoves, winter gear, medical supplies. Off to one side a generator sat, shiny and sparkling in the winter sun. "Hell yes..."

She was practically glued to his side, now beginning to shiver a bit herself. "I'll have my men inventory the medical supplies after Frank gets everything inside. We'll divvy it up between what'll stay here and what'll be put into field packs."

"Good plan. Holy fuckshit yes!" he whooped suddenly as a box moved off to reveal cases of shotgun and pistol ammo.

"And it isn't even Christmas yet," she purred, watcing as the mall's denizens had similar reactions to his. The excitement was infectuous--in fact, she doubted Malton had even seen this many people smiling simultaneously since before the outbreak.

He trotted back over to the side, noting that the crates had all been moved up. He grabbed Marley. "Get everyone back in position. Business as usual." It wasn't, but they had to keep things up. Unlikely as the horde was to come shambling at them during the afternoon, they still had to be ready.

Marley nodded and whistled for any non-civvies to get their asses back to work, thanks, to show how grateful they were. Melanie jogged down the line to Zimmerman, explained the situation with the medical supplies. "Chances are most of it is stuff we can take in the field," she said, "but I bet there's some that'd take up too much space."

He nodded. "That's the call of the medical staff. I believe Petro said you were in charge of the medical staff now. We'll be moving it all down to the infirmary storage area for your people to sort out."

"Great," she said, clapping him on the back. "Will do." She headed back up to the rooftop.

There was an eruption of laughter from the crowd around one of the crates. Petro stood over it with a strange expression, halfway-amused and annoyed.

She tiptoed up and peeked out from behind him, curious.

A recently opened crate had his name stenciled on it. Inside sat stacks of cartons of cigarettes, and a very conspicuous porno magazine.

"Someone's got a fan out there," she said with a grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Apparently so," he said, lifting one of the cartons. Underneath rested a bottle of expensive scotch. "Guess I should send an autograph."

"Perhaps Mr. Freeman put in an express order," she said with a grin. She then broke the umbilical for just a moment, looking around in the various boxes. She spied one that hadn't been opened yet and watched as a man prid it open. "What's this shit?" he asked, puzzled. She trotted over. "Oh my God," she said, staring as though she'd been slapped. "Petro, we have fucking pennicillin!"

He shoved the lid closed on 'his' crate and headed over to look. "Fucking great," he said. "Trust a medical outfit to do it right."

"We have to get some to Gwendolyn as soon as we can," she said.

He grabbed a passerby, handing him a box. "Get this down to the infirmary now," he ordered, then looked at the rest of the contents of the crate.

There were other antibiotics for those with penicillin allergy, as well as insulin kits and dozens of different painkillers. Her eyebrows rose as she lifted a box that said nothing more than 'Scheidecker' on it in dark blue lettering.

"Keflex," he said. "Amoxicillin," reading through the names without any sign of recognition. He looked at the box she picked up. "What's that?"

"It's a battery-operated defibrillator," she said in awe. "They're state of the art... Only one brand makes them..."
"Holy shit, I hadn't even heard about battery-op."

"They've only been out for a few fucking months," she said. "Since right before the outbreak..." She regarded the thing as though it was holy, then reluctantly set it back down and peered deeper into the box. "Burn ointment, antiseptics, and..." She stared. "A ball gag."

He held up his hands. "Hey, don't look at me."

"It's for patients, pervert," she said with a smirk. "Although a bit of an unorthodox version for a medical tool," she admitted.

He looked around, donning a mask of studious innocence. "I knew that."

"Hey, Frank!" Melanie called, waving at him. "I found something for you in case my baby here gets under your skin!"

He snapped the ball gag away as Zimmerman looked back at them, shook his head, and resumed scribbling furious notes in between bouts of barking orders.

"Hey," she said, "you gotta admit you'd look hot in it."

"If anybody's getting gagged around here," he muttered. "It's you. Again."

"If you can get it on me," she said, recalling the ordeal he had trying to tie her to the bed.

He raised an eyebrow. "You're just riding the fact that I have to hold off for the next few months."

"Yeah," she said, "yeah I am. Half a year /you're/ my bitch."

"Like this morning?" he said with a sweet smile.

"Just you wait," she said. "That closet down by the infirmary is full of linens..."
"Where I drive you wild again and you try to keep from screaming your head off?"

"Where I use my teeth and the poor traumatised patients can hear you whimpering?"

He pulled her shirt collar to the side to inspect the teethmarks he'd left earlier. "Hmm?"

"Looks nice, chief!" said a passing militiaman.

He let the collar snap back up and waved, grinning. "See, my work is up to standard."

"I never complained," she said innocently. "Just that mine was better. Like that blister on that talented little tongue of yours."

"Linen closet," he said. "You're on." He smacked her ass, then got into the unloading again.

She admonished him with a wag of her finger, then said: "I'm going to shoot Gwen up full of nature's miracle mould."

"Great, I'll be down in a bit," he said, passing another box along.

She grinned and blew him a kiss, then headed down into the mall.

[Caz]

Several hours later, after the hype from the supply drop had died down and Melanie had slid back into the infirmary, she'd given Gwendolyn the antibiotics. She was then gone as quickly as she arrived and the infirmary was quiet for a while longer.

Sherry arrived in a similarly quiet fashion. Mikr was busy inspecting Punt, who was becoming quite a spoilsport about having to be in bed all damn day. She waited until they were done, then snagged Mike via an arm around his waist.

"Babe, we need to talk," she said quietly.

[Pcm979]

"What's up?" He asked, letting her lead him into a quiet corner. He had so much to do- He needed to try the experimental drugs on Gwen, check on Silver, see if he could do anything for Steve... But none of that mattered if Sherry thought there was something wrong.

[Caz]

She took a deep breath, the looked into his eyes. Sherry wasn't the nervous type; she was damn well fearless against most odds and most enemies. But there were butterflies now, oh yes.

Idly, she took one of his hands in her own as she spoke, running her thumb over his palm.

"In half an hour, I'm heading to the briefing... The First are mine now, and tonight I'm leading them against the horde."

[Pcm979]

He simply looked at her and blinked uncomprehendingly at her for almost a minute as the information wound its way through his head. His eyes flickered over her shoulder to the ward containing Silver, Punt and Ellen, as if to say That's what happens to people who go against the horde.

"Uh." He said.

[Caz]

She pulled him against her, resting her hands on the small of his back as she sighed, head finding his shoulder.

"You know if there was any other way to do it, I would," she said quietly.

At least he wasn't angry, which was the reaction she'd feared the most. That didn't mean he wouldn't be soon, however, even if it was with Petro rather than her.

"You know I'll come back," she whispered. "I may be battered and broken but you know I'll come back to you."

[Pcm979]

"That's the bit I'm scared of." He replied softly, perching his chin on her head and sliding his hands around her waist. "The once was still too many times."

[Caz]

Sherry rested against him, kissed his neck. "Don't worry about me," she said, "please?"

Because he had his own responsibilities. He had a lot of patients to care for, even with the help of Melanie's people. And if there was anything at all he could do for Steve, now was the time.

[Pcm979]

"I can't promise that." He said, pulling his head back and looking her in the eyes. "I'm gonna worry. But I won't let it get in the way of my job. That's the best I can offer."