Urban Dead: No Rest For the Wicked

[Cynical Cat]

Wendigo cocked his head. Was that someone trying to call out? It was coming from the ruins. Zombie territory. He walked quickly towards where he had heard the sound. He wondered if any of the leaders had gotten smart enough to set this kind of trap. He would find out.

[Rukia]

Snippets of childhood nursery rhymes came back to her. She tried to sing them but they only came out as whispers.

The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout
Down came the rain and washed the spider out...

The cheese stands alone the cheese stands alone...

Did you ever see such a sight in you're life as three blind mice...

Great... Now I'm going crazy she thought. Well at least I won't know when I died....

The cat ran away with the spoon.... No, that wasn't right....

[Caz]

After a few hours of tidying things in the infirmary, knowing full well that he was doing it simply because being idle would allow him to remember what had happened, Dorian Davies found himself atop the mall on a routine smoke break. For some reason or another, he'd decided on a cigar as opposed to the routine. No real reason. Or at least no real conscious reason.

The wind that day was rather irksome, so he'd tied his hair back, and he grumbled something to himself about his ears being cold.

"Just can't win, can you?" he said to nobody in particular as he gazed out over the perimeter.

Due to the patrol tower's collapse, that meant one of their teams was going to be without a place to stake out for a while, and that made him anxious. Just because the cold seemed to slow the zombies down a bit didn't mean now was a perfectly fucking fine time to become complacent... he'd found that the only ones who seemed to realise that were Zimmerman, Melanie, and Petro. Everyone else, even the patrol leaders and the Irregulars, seemed to be taking things a bit too slow lately.

Not right, he thought, not right at all. But what could he do about it? He was a damned doctor, not an officer. Then again, was the problem really so bad as to say something had to be done?

He took a sip from his thermos, then replaced the cigar.

He was probably just being paranoid.

[Cynical Cat]

He smelled fresh meat. Probably one of the living. He accelerated his pace. Over there. The fog of breath. He walked closer.

[Rukia]

Her lunitic thoughts were inturrupted as she thought she heard footsteps. Had someone finally found her? She chanced a feeble attempt to cry out, but nothing came. Damn. She forced herself up on her elbow once again and looked for a rock. She flung it to the best of her ability and fell back down.

Please dont be a zombie...

[Pcm979]

Sherry crawled back into bed a few hours after leaving, nestling herself beneath Mike's chin and trying not to wake him. She'd been able to leave without rousing him when Petro had called the leaders in for an emergency meeting, but she didn't want to stay awake after hearing the news. So she collapsed against him, closed her eyes, and tried to keep the light out.

One of the kittens happened to be sleeping on Mike's neck, and she plucked it off, settled it on his side instead so she could scratch it beneath the chin while she attempted sleep.

He twitched and murmured vaguely, a little smile smoothing his features as she lay down. He didn't wake up, however; The previous day had been a very busy one, and, for one reason or another, they hadn't gotten to sleep until quite late.

The kitten was purring loudly by this point, so Sherry ceased to pet him and just plunked the little guy in his previous spot. She smiled and nuzzled him as his droopy eyes closed once more, utterly limp with kitten bliss.

She curled against Mike's hips, needing to feel the reassurance of his body beside hers.

Mike came to a sort of fuzzy awareness, only just on this side of awake. He wrapped his arms around Sherry and mumbled something vague yet no doubt affectionate, nuzzling her slightly.

Sherry's body relaxed against his as her lips slid along his collarbone in a sleepy, sloppy kiss. And then she was asleep.

This night, Sherry dreamed.

She dreamt of Gil Sheehan, of Marcus, of Jamie: the Irregulars she and Petro had put down themselves out of mercy and respect. One who was murdered.

She dreamt of Colin, the boy she couldn't save.

She dreamt of brushing her mother's hair, only when the face turned 'round to face hers, it was a sunken-eyed, rotted mess, skin peeled and teeth bared in an eerie, predatory grin.

She awoke thrashing a few hours later, whimpering loudly, and finally managed to spill herself onto the floor.

The cat followed with a squeal, and Mike shot out of the hammock soon after, crouching down next to her and pulling her to him. "Whoa, whoa, shhh." He said quietly. "I'm here."

"Mom!" Sherry breathed, panicked. Her heartbeat was like a furious drum against her chest. She clung to him for just a moment, then seemed to remember where she was, settled down a bit.

"A nightmare?" He asked softly, sitting down and pulling her onto his lap.

She wiped the sweat from her eyes, sat there for a moment. Finally she shook her head with resignation and chuckled a bit.

"I don't remember," she said with a sigh. She hated waking up terrified without even a concrete reason.

He nodded, nuzzling her unconsciously. "That's probably not a bad thing." He said after a moment. There was a snuffling in the corner, and the kitten hopped back into the hammock with a flump. "Can we get back in the hammock?" He asked, shivering.

"Yeah," she said a bit distractedly, climbing up and then, once he'd stood, pulling him down against her. After a few moments, she sighed and let out a tiny sigh. As her arms snaked around his waist, she explained:

"You didn't wake up when I got called out," she said quietly, "there was a collapse at one of the patrol towers. Gillian Sheehan died... I was going to ask him to join the First..."

Sherry closed her eyes and went limp against their 'bed', unwilling to waste what little energy she had.

Mike froze when she said it, then likewise went limp, sliding to the side a little so as not to put all his weight on her. Slinking his hands behind her back he dug his head in beside hers and sighed. "God, that sucks." He said at last, not coming close to vocalising what he felt. But that didn't matter; She'd understand.

"Mel hasn't come by with a formal request yet," she whispered, "but I think she's going to be asking you and Ace to pick up some time in the infirmary. Dorian's... He can't even function right now."

He nodded into the hammock's fabric, tightening his grip on her a little. "Next time I see her I'll offer." He said decisively. No doubt Sherry could spot the precursors to Mike finding some way to blame the incident on himself; The man seemed to make a living on building a list of imaginary sins.

She kissed him on the cheek, then whispered. "You don't have to if you're busy with Necrotech or whatever, but I'm not exaggerating when I say that you and Ace are the best doctors here."

He smirked and levered himself up so he could look her in the eyes. "Oh, I've got the time." He said, pecking her on the lips. "I'm being a lazy sod these days." He grinned faintly.

"A lazy sod that got us all fed and watered," she cooed, kissing him again and closing her eyes. Her hands slipped below the neckline of his shirt and she frowned, opening her eyes.

"Babe, your shoulders are so tense... It's okay."

"Yeah, I know. It's just..." He paused, trying to find the right words to explain the situation. There was the guilt, of course, based on his admittedly-irrational feeling of personal responsibility over the whole damn mess. There was the way it drove home, once again, how shit could happen out of the blue. There was his simple soft-heartedness. But she knew about all that anyway. "You know how I am." He finished with a chuckle.

"Yeah," she said, "but this has nothing to do with you. It was an accident. A building doesn't collapse because someone wills it," she kissed him. "Even if I can't convince you to absolve yourself of the other shit, with this you weren't even involved, okay?"

At her words, he was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude- To her, to whatever fates had brought them together. He snuggled against her, kissing her repeatedly. "You're so damn good to me." He said nonsensically.

"You've gotta stop thinking you don't deserve every goddamn bit of it," she whispered, kissing his neck. "You saved us all, remember? You brought me back from the dead even when I'm the one that did it." She kissed him again. "That's dedication. That's love. That's what we do for each other."

"Works for me." He mumbled, pulling her closer, just wanting to be with her.

"See? 'S'easy," she mumbled back, already feeling herself falling asleep. Her hair fell into her eyes, and at first she tried to blow it out of the way, but then she realised that there was indeed a kitten manipulating said hair. She grumbled and reached up, snagging the tiny cat even as it mewled a weak protest, then set it down near her shoulder, a slightly more comfortable position.

"We'll talk in the morning," she mumbled.

If she could even remember.

[Rukia]

As the fugure approched and she got a good look at him, 'Ell breathed a sigh of relief. -Thank god- It wasn't a zombie, least it didn't shamble or groan like one. As he came even further into veiw, she marveled at the size of him.

"You hurt?" he asked standing over her limp body.

Figuring that sarcasim would be wasted on him, she rasped out "M'leg an'head." She stifled a cough and spoke again. "I don't want to die..." Then her dark blue eyes went clear as she looked at Wendigo. They screamed "Please help me" better than words ever could.

[Cynical Cat]

He walked towards the woman. Wendigo didn't smile. It made humans uncomfortable. He looked around for shamblers. "I'm going to take you to some place safe." He reached down and pulled her up, throwing her over his shoulder.

"If God exists he has a nasty sense of humour," he muttered. "Having the Ghoul-King of Malton rescue easy meat."

[Josh]

Gil turned out to have a lot of junk laying around. The man was a packrat, obviously fond of collecting trinkets, tokens, and mementos.

Interestingly enough, there were also a series of half-written notes slandering his easy-going nature and warning Melanie that he was entirely not serious enough for her. He stared at them for a long moment.

"Fuck you, Sheehan," he muttered, tossing those in the trash.

And last, there was a journal. Flipping open the cover, he saw a name written on it that made his eyebrows crawl to his forehead.

-------------------

Twenty minutes later, he deposited the journal by Dorian's bunk, and then went to talk to Frank about the situation with their patrols and the building project.

[Cynical Cat]

Wendigo carried her to the makeshift hospital and laid her gently down in a bed. "Someone see to her," he said and strode out. He had noticed new damage. He was going to go check that out.

[Caz]

Dorian was on his way back into the infirmary as he passed Reaper heading out. He'd seen the ghoul carry in the wounded girl, and he smirked a bit.

"Brought in another stray, have we?" he asked, glad to have somewhat of a distraction from dwelling on the events of that morning. Not that denying things as he was had anything to do with health. But sometimes one had to compensate the healthy for what they could manage for the moment.

"She looks fairly beat-up. You all right?"

[Cynical Cat]

"Fine," the Reaper said. "Found her like this. Go a nose for fresh meat."

[Caz]

"Unfortunately, some of the fresh meat you brought in a while back has become the bloody terror of my hospital," he said, referring to Gwen and her inability to keep from talking to everyone. Well, before she got the kidney removed, that is.

He then added: "Thanks for bringing her, at any rate. The kid was right: you're welcome here anytime."

[Rukia]

The barely conscience 'Ell looked from one man to the next as they spoke. Keeping quiet as not to impose. She was thankful to be here and didn't want to ruin it. A coughing fit hit her hard and when it subsided she wheezed "Sorry to interrupt..." with a meek smile. The warmth from the building was catching up and her leg was starting to hurt.

[Caz]

Dorian held up a finger to Reaper, as if to ask for a moment to check out the patient. He looked down at the woman and shushed her gently, pressing her back down onto the bed.

"Don't exert yourself," the silver-haired man admonished. "Now, I'm going to inspect your wounds, are you all right with that?"

He'd taken to asking, or at least attempting communication, to distinguish the sane from the... Well... Hysterical was a good way to put it. As he stared down at her, he adjusted his glasses. His eyes and smile were kind, almost paternal, but there was something sad about him.

Then again, for a man who'd experienced what he just had, Dorian was holding together like a charm.

[Rukia]

She nodded at Dorian. "A zombie got my lef'leg a few days back an' I hit m'head on a rock earlier"

Looking at the man tears filled her eyes but didn't fall. "You look like my dad, Even have the same sad eyes..." She coughed, "You've lost someone close, huh?" -Most people have- she thought, closing her eyes letting the doctor work.

[Caz]

Dorian was a bit taken aback by her straightforwardness. He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses out of nervous habit.

The doctor still didn't trust himself to speak coherently of Gil's death, so instead of replying to her observation, he only said, "Shh. We can talk later if you'd like, but right now you've got to rest."

He gave her a shot of local anaesthetic to the wound on her leg, then began cutting away the damaged trousers to see what he had to work with. Great, it looked like the wound was festering. Infected. Rather like Gwen's had been. Knowing she wouldn't feel it by this point, he began to cut away the areas of dead flesh surrounding it.

As he got to work, he glanced back up to the ghoul.

"So what's on the agenda now, hm?"

[Rukia]

'Ell didn't want to go to sleep for fear of not waking up. Instead she kept her mind focused on the absence of pain in her leg and listening to the men talk. Not for evesdropping purposes, she wasn't rude, but for the sake of staying awake. Although sleep did sound good after a week... She listened to the voices, not the words.

[Cynical Cat]

Reaper looked at Dorian. "Going out. Checking on the mess I saw when I came in."

[Caz]

Dorian's broad shoulders fell, his eyes going to the floor.

"Everyone made it except for Gil. He's the one that came with... When you helped us take Gwen back here."

He took a deep breath.

"If you find anything useful there, just keep it. I don't think I could go back. If Petro or anyone else gives you shit, send 'em my way."

[Cynical Cat]

Wendigo shrugged as he headed out the door. Humans were . . . . . strange.

[Cynical Cat]

Wendigo walked to the rubble. Not much interesting around. All the survivors rescued and most of the rubble removed. He prowled around for anything that caught his attention.

[Caz]

Dorian returned to the woman, began working on the wound on her leg. It was ragged, swollen, and infected all to hell. Great.

"Hey, can someone grab me an antibiotic?" he asked. Riley, the errand boy, appeared with a few ampuoules in his hand a few moments later.

"We've got Penicillin, Amoxicil, Bioxin," Riley listed them off. Dorian thought for a moment, then looked down to the patient.

"Hey," he said gently, bending down a bit. He smiled, then brushed her hair from her eyes so she could see his face. "I'm taking care of your leg," he explained. "But I need to know something: do you know if you're allergic to Penicillin?"

Lord only knew if she was coherent. A lot of them weren't when the Guard had offered assistance. They woke up and thought you were trying to rape 'em and still their goddamn guns.

Gil had said that.

Oh, fuck.

He squinted his eyes closed and let out a tiny cry, putting his hand to his forehead. Can't do this now, he thought, you can throw your little fit when you're done with taking care of her. Focus.

[Cynical Cat]

Nothing much to do. Wendigo wandered around, looking for stray shamblers who might have come to close. None.

He wandered into another block. The air was cold and still. No shamblers anywhere. He brushed up against the tape recorder. He pulled it out. He and the ravens were the only things making noises.

He held it up and clicked it on. "I don't know what this worth," he said slowly, "the observations of a brain damaged ghoul, but I will make them. I wonder if making something like me was Necrontech's intent. No matter. I am here and as far as I know unique. I don't recall naming myself, just that I did. I am Wendigo Reaper and that much of my brain must have survived the transition from man to ghoul."

[Rukia]

Her eyes opened as her doctor spoke to her. "Hmm?" It took her a second to recap what he'd said, she'd lost focus.

"Um, penicil-no. 'M'not allgergic to anythin." She took another look at him as he when back to work.

She noticed a slight change in his demenor. She reached out a hand and touched his forearm. "I'm sorry. It'll be ok. You can cry if you like." She spoke slowly so she wouldn't slur her words. "I won't tell"