InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "We're down to 3 times a day."

Leah Stone (reapinghavok) wrote in immune_ic,
@ 2011-11-23 03:49:00

Entry tags:

# 2011 [11] november, leah

WHO: Leah & O'Brien
WHEN: November 26, 2018; around 6:00PM
WHERE: Out and about; Fancy Pharmacy (close to City Hall)
WHAT: Undead hookers! Oh, and raiding a pharmacy.
HOW: Foul language and possible nudity ~~because of the hookers, of course...~~
STATUS: Complete

Daylight Savings Time had become another pointless thing of the past; one of the few things Leah was glad to know it was no longer enforced. If it was, the hour would be dark by now and Brandon would no doubt be giving her hell for being out after dark on her own. As it was, she still had at least an hour of sunlight left to continue scavenging for medical supplies. That new dog of Lilah's would no doubt be needing flea medication, and Leah knew several doctors willing to trade useful items in exchange for whatever she found.

This particular pharmacy, the now ironically named Fancy Pharmacy, was located on a fairly quiet block, populated by what looked like the sickliest-looking group of shufflers she'd ever come across. Clothing hung in tattered strips over what was left of the body, skinny cadavers that looked more like walking skeletons and less like something that used to be alive. Their movements were even slower than normal shufflers (if that was possible), each step an enormous chore that looked beyond painful. Fortunately for them, thought Leah, they don't feel.

Pausing in the entrance-way of the pharmacy, Leah dug in her pocket for her flashlight, resisting the urge to snort when her eyes caught sight of what appeared to be her only major threat on this block. A group of three female shufflers, all of whom had more flesh on their bones than the others, stood more or less on the curb across the street. Judging by the remains of their already scanty wardrobe — short skirts, bosom-bearing tops, one six-inch high heel and the matching no-inch high heel (in one zombie's case; the other two were bare-footed) — it didn't take a rocket scientist to determine what they did when they were alive.

Lit flashlight in one hand, machete in the other, Leah ducked into the pharmacy, pushing the door closed behind her. It wouldn't do much to prevent the zombies outside from coming in — there was no lock, and the display windows were broken — but it would slow them down a little, and every second counted.

Light streaming in from the front windows illuminated the front of the store, the flashlight serving to help her see at the rear. She could hear grunts coming from somewhere beyond the shelves. Quietly, Leah walked along the store, keeping the wall at her side, her machete at the ready. Bottles, empty and not empty, were scattered about the floor, making her steps all the more treacherous.

She was nearly to the source of the noise when her foot nudged a full bottle of pills, sending it rattling down an aisle. Leah halted, her breath catching. The chomping that had gotten louder the closer she got, stopped. Leah felt her heart pounding. A hand appeared around the corner of a shelf, followed by a rotted face, its eye (one missing), staring at her. It was the anticipation that affected her the most. One zombie, a sight she had looked upon countless times, was barely worth the adrenaline rush anymore. As it reached for her, hands groping, she swung her arm back and sliced it through the forehead. It fell back onto the floor, and she finished the job.

After a full inspection of the rest of the store, making certain all the present corpses weren't going to get up, Leah commenced searching through what items were left in the pharmacy.

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reapinghavok
2011-12-18 02:06 am UTC (link)

Defensive rather than yielding. While the rant didn't do much to quiet her temper, O'Brien had managed to earn himself some respect points from Leah. However, unlike the common sense points, she didn't admit to these out loud. Instead, she slid her free hand to her hip, cocking her head as she considered whether or not to respond to his insistence that he'd done a good job at what he did. "Fair enough," was all she said.

Hate was a relative word to describe how she felt about the guy with the gun, but it wasn't wholly true. He seemed decent enough, hadn't tried to hurt her or anything like that. Perfect invitation to be nasty to him.

"Yeah, that's one. There's still a whole street full." She indicated the area with her machete, leaning away from a corpse's outstretched hands. Pivoting, Leah knocked the zombie to the ground and stomped on the back of its neck. O'Brien kindly reminded her again that he'd been shot, and she rolled her eyes, not so kindly replying with, "That's your fault, not mine. Could've stayed at the library and died, instead of coming out here. Though I guess this way of dying could be faster."

Whatever. This argument was getting old. He kept insisting he wasn't going to shoot her, and she kept a firm grasp on her paranoia. It didn't stop a smirk from appearing when O'Brien gave her a look that clearly stated he didn't like her plan of escape. She decided to save further comments for when they were safe topside.

Leah stayed close behind the man, alternately swiping her machete at and tripping any shufflers that invaded their path. As he tugged the ladder down, Leah spun on her heel, keeping her eye on the slowly approaching horde. Behind her, she heard the rusted metal creaking angrily, heard O'Brien's footsteps on the metal rungs. No matter how quickly he was going, it was taking precious seconds away from her own escape.

"Little help would be nice," she called up to him, slicing her machete through the forehead of another zombie. With a grunt, she pulled the weapon free, cringing when she felt rotted hands creeping along her back.

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detectiveobrien
2011-12-18 03:53 am UTC (link)

It was probably a good thing that she didn't catch-- or comment on, or pick on him about saying that he'd killed the zombie for her. Even he hadn't really realized he'd said it. And whatever anyway.

His brows went up in surprise when Leah swiftly turned to stomp on the back of the zombie's neck. Damn. Yeah, it was settled. This chick was hot. And kickass. Hot because she was kickass. She had a pretty face too-- whether she'd agree or not. And yeah, yeah, okay.. maybe there was something about that negative personality of hers that he liked too. She could tone down his ridiculous positive-ness.

"You would have liked that," he started, "at least then you wouldn't have had to worry about the horde, since I attracted them with my loudness." He pursed his lips at her comment about dying faster, and opted not to comment on it. He really didn't want to die. Not yet. And he didn't want her to die today, on his watch, either.

And he wasn't moving that quickly. He felt a bit bad about it. But it kind of hurt every time he reached up and pulled himself up to the next rung. Fantastic. At least he had plenty of painkillers to take if and when he got back to the library.

"On it," he called back down at her, aiming for the zombie creeping entirely too close to her back-- the very idea made him cringe, considering his own worst bite was on the back of his shoulder, and he remembered all too well being bitten and tackled from behind. He fired a bullet into the top of the zombie's head and then quickly tucked his gun back into his holster so he could reach for the ladder, "Hold on," okay, yeah. He didn't know if zombies could climb ladders... he'd never actually seen if one could or not, but he wouldn't put it past them. So if the ladder was going to come back up anyway (so they wouldn't be followed), he might as well try to tug it back up with Leah on it.

Unfortunately, he wasn't Hercules, though, so it wasn't as easy as he'd imagined in his head. If he were Batman, maybe. But he was just Quarantine Guy, and it was more likely that Miss Machete could take better care of herself than even he could. But he was going to try and help get her pulled up at least high enough to get out of the initial reach of the horde.

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reapinghavok
2011-12-18 09:40 pm UTC (link)

Stomping on the neck required a hardy pair of boots and not hesitation. One of the army soldiers had taught her that move. The first time she'd done it, she hadn't stomped nearly hard enough, and had almost gotten her ankle chewed off because of it. Now, two years later, she could break the zombie's neck without flinching. Unless, of course, the stomp brought with it an explosion of zombie brain matter.

"Oh, so now you see my point? Slow on the uptake; I should expect that by now." Lucky for O'Brien that he had a gun and they were surrounded by infected, otherwise Leah might've hit him. "I'm not planning on letting you get gnawed on again. You couldn't blame me if I did, though."

The zombie's hands were cold and clumsy. When the bullet struck, the creature let out a grunt, neither expressing pain nor any other human emotion, before collapsing to the sidewalk at her feet. Leah didn't spare a moment to thank O'Brien, instead gripping the ladder and placing her feet on the rungs.

Before she could properly start climbing, O'Brien told her to hold on. She felt the ladder begin to ascend as he tugged on it, although it wasn't moving nearly fast enough to avoid the hands groping at her legs. Holding on with one hand and balancing with one foot, Leah twisted around and started kicking at the zombies.

As soon as she was out of their reach, Leah swung back around and climbed the rest of the way up to the first floor landing of the fire escape. As far as escapes went, this one had been one of the most simple. True, they still had a ways to go before they reached their destination, but the worst part was over. She hoped.

Tucking her machete away and hoisting the straps of her pack more securely on her back, she glanced at O'Brien. "Nice shot," she complimented him of the zombie he'd taken out. With that, Leah started up the stairs. This building wasn't very tall, which meant they wouldn't have to climb far.

Reaching the top, Leah walked along the edge, surveying the streets on either side of the building. It was a good thing indeed that they'd gotten up here when they did. An Exploder had been headed their way. Watching it make its way down the street toward the pharmacy, Leah dug a bottle of water out of her pack and took a sip. Twisting the cap back on, she looked over her shoulder at O'Brien, waiting until she had his attention before tossing the bottle at him.

"We'll be safe up here, if you need a break," she said, her eyes flicking to the moon. She sighed. So much for getting back to the safehouse before nightfall.

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detectiveobrien
2011-12-19 01:27 am UTC (link)

"No, I'm just going with what you said to make you happy," he huffed, working at pulling the ladder up enough for her to get away. He was pulling it up as quickly as he could. Leah had to keep in mind that he probably shouldn't have been pulling the ladder up, in his condition, to begin with, but he couldn't let the zombies get her.

Letting go with one hand long enough to move aside and let her finish climbing the way up, he leaned back down, once she was out of the way, to finish pulling the ladder back up.

Turning back to her, he managed a bit of a smile at her compliment, "thanks," he moved to follow behind her, reaching for the railing to help drag his ass up the stairs to the top of the building-- he was assuming that's where they were headed. The only way left to go was up, really.

"You did a pretty good job with that machete of yours too, you know. And when you kicked that one in the face? Fucking killer," That was a compliment. Once at the top of the building, and after he realized Leah was taking a moment to look around, he turned to sit down on an air conditioner unit to take a bit of a breather.

He was watching her, just in case she decided to continue on, he'd need to go with her, but he'd just glanced down to unzip his coat a bit more and glance down toward his side to make sure he hadn't ripped any stitches. That doctor guy had warned him about that, and it didn't sound pleasant at all. That's why he wasn't looking at her, when Leah decided to toss him the bottle of water. He was busy feeling at his side to make sure he wasn't bleeding.

Oh, he'd just given another look back up at Leah, realizing she wanted to toss the bottle at him. He caught it, and held it up, "thank you." A drink of water sounded incredibly fantastic at the moment. Taking the cap off, he brought it up to take a decent sized drink, but certainly not all of it. It was hers after all. He was just lucky she was offering to share.

"Ah.. no," he shook his head, "you shouldn't stop on my account. I don't want to keep you; I've already ruined enough of your evening as it is," he put the cap back on the water and set it next to himself on the A/C unit, his arm going back to protectively hold at his side.

"Thank you, by the way. For helping me out of there," he meant it. Even if she might not have believed him. "And the antibiotics."

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reapinghavok
2011-12-21 06:59 am UTC (link)

Leah didn't smile at the compliment. "I did what I had to," she replied in a flat tone. Killing zombies was neither fun nor impressive. For her, it was a grim form of therapy. With the right person, she was willing to turn a battle with a horde into a game of who could kill the most, but that was about as far as she took it. It was a necessity, ridding the city of the undead.

Watching him take a drink, the woman briefly considered asking him about his wound; if he was bleeding or not. However, O'Brien was the chatty type, so if his shirt was stained with blood, no doubt he'd tell her. It should've been enough that she'd found his medicine, got him away from the zombies, given him water, and offered to get him back to a safehouse. What more could he expect from her? Nothing, that's what.

"You're right about that," she said, her attention returning to the street below. "If you hadn't shown up, I'd already be at City Hall by now." Turning, Leah took a seat on the roof's small wall, leaning forward and resting her forearms on her legs. It didn't exactly answer the question of why she'd decided to help him, but then, she hadn't really intended on giving him a straight answer for that question.

When he thanked her, she nodded once. "I don't leave people behind," she explained. "Unless they really deserve it. You didn't."

Leah stood up after a couple minutes, stretching, her gaze once again going to the sky. There were a few clouds, no doubt a sign that snow was on the way, but for the most part the sky was clear. The moon was bright, giving them enough light that Leah's flashlight wasn't necessary.

"You gonna pass out on me?" She asked, striding over to retrieve her bottle of water. "'Cause if you are," she said, straightening up and tucking the bottle back in her bag, "I'm leaving you here. I am not dragging your ass all the way back." Can't would've been a truthful word, too.

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detectiveobrien
2011-12-21 07:24 am UTC (link)

Of course she did. He nodded to her flat reply and gave a bit more of a look around. And yeah, yeah, okay. So what if he was the chatty type? There may have been a little blood, but nothing too drastic. He'd need to reapply a new bandage, when he got back to the Library, but he'd eventually have to do that anyway.

And she didn't have to worry; O'Brien wasn't expecting anything from her. She'd already done plenty, even if it was not without complaint or griping. He glanced down, thinking quietly on her statement about having already been to City Hall by now. It was more than likely true. He wasn't moving nearly as fast as she most likely would have liked.

He was just about to tell her she didn't have to hang around and wait for him, when she admitted to not leaving people behind. Unless they deserved it. And she said that he didn't. Which made him feel slightly less of a nuisance. But he knew, to her, he still was one.

"Well, I appreciate it," he watched her, his eyes curiously moving over her as she gazed up at the night sky. He kept his attention on her even as she started back over to take her bottle of water back.

He was still holding his side, because yeah, it still kind of hurt, and he must have looked like crap for her to ask if he was going to pass out. His brows lifted with a bit of surprise at her questions, and he straightened up a little. He winced the tiniest bit, "that's a good question. I hope not.. but I make no guarantees..."

He nodded, "It would probably suit me right for you to leave me, if I passed out on you. It happened the other day-- Me passing out, I mean. I was at a department store, trying to find a coat. I'm not sure how long I was out, but I was lucky no zombies found me."

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reapinghavok
2011-12-22 07:31 am UTC (link)

Of course he appreciated the help. Who wouldn't, were they in his position? Injured, looking for medicine, cornered by zombies. Yeah, anyone would appreciate a bit of assistance. Well, maybe not anybody. Leah would have, though, although she would've made a bigger point of not outright asking for help.

She rolled her eyes at his response, sighing with exasperation. "Then I make no guarantees for getting you back somewhere safe." She wasn't strong enough to carry him back, and besides that, she wasn't the type to give anyone a piggyback ride — with the obvious exceptions being her sisters and brother.

Leah stared in disbelief when O'Brien explained that he'd passed out in the middle of a store. "You must be the luckiest son of a bitch in the world." She shook her head, muttering, "Passing out in a store and no zombies coming to munch on you..." That was unbelievable.

"Let's go, then. I'd like to get back before morning, at least."

Rooftop travel was the safest method, second only to supply trucks which were used almost exclusively for large units of immune when they ventured into the city as a group, searching for bulk supplies. In no time at all, Leah and O'Brien were on the front steps of City Hall, waiting for the guards to clear a path into the building. Leah parted ways with O'Brien, making her way to drop off the medical supplies at the infirmary and then heading off to find a place to sleep for the night.

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