Logan Drake (tastethrainbow) wrote in immune_ic, @ 2012-10-01 16:42:00 |
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It had been weeks since Skit had left Shawn in that housing development. He was sure that the other man was walking amongst the dead by now. It didn't like Shawn had long when he had walked out the door. He thought of turning back. To put the poor man out of his misery. No one deserved to be one of those things. It was probably everyone's worst nightmare. He knew that Shawn had mentioned fearing it and Skit just let it happen. Of course he was told to leave but he didn't have to. He knew that he couldn't turn back. That usually led to more death, despite being a immune he wasn't in hurry to be bitten. Not turning didn't mean that it wasn't painful. Plus he had a hard enough time avoiding zombies with those wounds getting there. Wherever there was. He hadn't been paying attention to the street signs. He was about to cross the street when he heard groaning. He hit the ground and looked around. He wouldn't even have to leave the bushes to get into an open window. He quickly crawled to the window. Just as he was half way through a shuffler bit his leg. He kicked it off before it's friends could get to the window. He shut it and ran up to the other door. Wrapping up his leg with his shirt as he did. They weren't smart enough to go around. They all went to the window. It gave him the opportunity to quickly limp across the street to a store front. He didn't pause when he walked in. He could hear zombies but couldn't see them over the aisles. What he did see was a door to a back room. It could provide him with shelter for a couple of hours at least. He carefully made his way down on of the aisles. It was filled with actual dead bodies but mostly picked clean. Guess he wasn't getting dinner there. That didn't stop him from looking as he was sneaking to somewhat safety. He tried to be as quiet as he could. Wincing as he put weight on his leg but he didn't have a choice. He was only a couple of feet away from the door when a zombie turned into his aisle. It jumped him before he had a chance to run for it. He grabbed it's head to keep it from chomping down on his neck. There was nothing like trying to loot when the zombie activity was high. It set Bea’s teeth on edge actually. But at least it only seemed to be Shufflers that they had encountered so far; there was no way she would still be out in Ossining if they caught sight of a Runner, Leaper or a fucking Smasher. She wasn’t stupid and she didn’t have complete faith that the guys who’d come out with her were any kind of a decent shot. But then she didn’t trust anyone as much as she trusted Charlie, or even Evan when it came to having her back. Usually she skipped over this part of town; the store fronts worth anything had already been mostly ransacked and it usually wasn’t worth picking around the bodies to see if there was any small things left to throw in the golf carts and take back to Sing Sing. Except today one of the guys had wanted to, just in case they found something. Bea thought he was probably panicking about the cold weather coming, but she hadn’t asked so it was mostly just a theory. She was just barely off the cart when she caught sight of someone, not one of them, slipping into one of the stores halfway down the street. With a limp, if she was judging correctly. Just perfect. “Cover me,” she said to Jake, more like a command than a request. “Some idiot just cornered himself in there, if the Shufflers headed that way are anything to go by.” She had never signed on for fucking rescue missions, but she couldn’t just let someone get eaten. She didn’t wait too much longer before she took off at a sprint, getting a couple shots in with her handgun before she slid in through the front door of the shop. Almost immediately upon entering she was on her guard. There was definitely more in here than just the one man with a limp, if the noise level was anything to go by. But before moving any further she checked that her switchblade was still in her boot and that she still had a couple rounds in her handgun. It took her only a couple seconds, the motions were well practiced. “Goddamnit,” she cursed under her breath as she started down an aisle, working out a system as she went. The place wasn’t that big, so she thought she’d be able to find the guy and whatever followed him in without too much hassle. Too bad there really wasn’t anything worth anything in the building, it would have made her Good Samaritan act just a little more worth it. It would be just her luck if he was already zombie food. She was just about to turn the corner into the next aisle when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Fuck. Man With The Limp was successfully getting himself mauled and she didn’t know by what. Could be a Leaper for all she knew. Or a Runner. At least it wasn’t a Smasher. Thank god for small favors. Following him really hadn’t been a good idea. At least the man was putting up a good fight, gave her enough time to get closer and try to aim without catching him instead. She went back and forth on whether she should make her presence known before deciding to just shoot. There really was something satisfying about getting a good headshot. Too bad Man With The Limp probably got some zombie brains on him. At least he hadn’t been eaten. “Hey,” she barked harshly. “What the hell are you doing?” Skit was a bit distracted with the zombie trying to eat his face to notice to woman walk into the store. He couldn't hear much over the growling and snarling in his ear. It wasn't exactly the sweet nothings that he preferred to listen to. At least it meant that it hadn't ripped the ear off. There was still no mistaking the sound of someone about to pull the trigger. He tightly closed his eyes and turned his head away. It didn't do much to stop the blood and brains from getting all over him. At least it didn't get in his eyes and mouth. There would would be vomit added to the mess if that had happened. As much as he liked that the zombie wasn't trying to make a snack out of him. He could have gone without being drenched with the insides of it's head. Almost as soon it was shot Skit pushed it off of him. Taking a breath of relief as the woman that saved him showed how pissed off she was. He wasn't sure why. It wasn't as if he asked to be saved. Not that he wasn't thankful for that. "I was trying to get away," he said thinking it was obvious. Okay, so maybe she’d been a little harsher than was necessary. But it wasn’t every day that she was put into a situation where she had to save someone from a zombie attack. Actually, she tried to avoid those. Self preservation and everything. It wasn’t the first time of course, but she didn’t usually follow people just so she could rescue their ass. That was definitely a first. Most of the time it was just looting gone awry. Though, she really couldn’t help her soft snort as she relaxed her stance and tucked her handgun back into the waistband of her pants. “Let me rephrase that. What are you doing in Ossining?” she asked him, somewhat less harshly this time, since she was less irritated than she was just moments before. “It isn’t exactly a place full of friendlies. Especially for someone not carrying a weapon.” She couldn’t see a weapon immediately on his person so she assumed he didn’t have one. Maybe she was wrong and he just wasn’t that quick on the draw. Even though she could still hear some rustling around the shop, she took a minute to look over Man With A Limp –she should probably ask his name-, he could probably tell what she was doing too, but she was beyond caring. He was tall, just tall enough that if Bea were standing closer she’d probably have to look up a little. He looked capable of defending himself also, but what was most concerning to her was the wrapped leg. That set off warning bells. It was also probably what created the limp. “You catch yourself on something?” She wished there were a way to let the guys know that she might need them just in case this stranger collapsed from blood loss after the adrenaline rush wore off. Not that she was trying to go to worst case scenario, it was just natural tendency. And she still wasn’t that comfortable with the situation in general. It wasn't as if he could stay in one place for that long unless inside a safe house. At least not out in the open like he has been. Still those safe houses weren't one hundred percent. He knew of more than a few that fell to zombies hordes. "Just passing by," but wasn't everyone? Was she kidding? Nowhere was safe. He couldn't exactly fly from place to place until he found somewhere he could rest peacefully. "Looking for somewhere safe." He meant to say safer than being out in the city. His gaze moved from her down to his leg then back to her. He had almost forgotten about the pain shooting from the bite. "I wasn't fast enough. One of them got a taste," he said actually being honest about a bite. He was immune so it didn't matter that he was. "It wasn't the first time." He thought he should mention that. A possibly infected person was a risk most people weren't willing to take. There was still movement within the store. It could be people that came in with her but he didn't think he was that lucky. Being bitten, almost zombie food, clearly it wasn't his lucky day. "We can't stay here," he flinched as he used the shelf to help himself up. Well that answered the question. Bea hadn’t run into any person who was just passing through Ossining though, actually most of the people she’d seen in the city were looters from Sing Sing. “You know where you’re going then?” When she had left the city she’d had a destination, but maybe he didn’t. It didn’t seem like he had much of a plan for anything. She pushed a stray piece of hair that had escaped her ponytail back behind her ear, furrowing her brow when he explained the leg injury. Just perfect, she just had to rescue a man that seemed to have the worst luck when it came to zombies. Or the worst reflexes. Two zombie attacks in one day wasn’t necessarily a regular occurrence. At least he already knew he was immune, so she wouldn’t have to haul him into quarantine at the prison. “No, we can’t.” She pulled her gun from her waistband. The noise wasn’t abnormally loud, so she was still attributing it to smaller zombies. No Smashers so far. “There’s a couple guys outside. About halfway down the street with a golf cart.” That was if they hadn’t left without her. “We were looting when I caught you limping in here.” And should have let him become zombie food. She’d be ticked if this man landed her in the infirmary, or worse, quarantine. “Think you can make it out on that leg?” she asked, having caught the way he winced when he levered himself up to a standing position. “I’ve only got a couple shots left.” She paused to listen to the noise in the building, taking a minute to judge where it was coming from. Sounded like the front, which meant that was out of the question as far as getting out. She could only hope the back alley wasn’t overrun. Or the backroom. They were at a disadvantage since she was the only one carrying a weapon. “Come on.” She covered the space between where she was and the door to the back room rather quickly, using her foot to nudge it open after she turned the knob. The room itself was darker than the front part of the building, but it didn’t take more than a couple moments for her eyes to adjust, and lucky for them it seemed clear. With one quick glance back behind her shoulder she stepped into the space, careful to keep her eyes scanning the place. Just in case. Skit thought that many people passed through various cities. Those who had found safe houses or didn't wish to leave amongst so many other people. Depending on the safe house there was much privacy for the general public. It was supposedly better than living out in the open with zombies. He wouldn't be surprised if more than just a handful felt different. "No. I was just looking for, well, anywhere that would let me in," he said knowing it was like he were wishing with a genie lamp. It was a specific location but he didn't have a specific location. If he did he would probably be there by this point and not overly worrying about the undead. It wasn't his day, zombie encounter wise. She wouldn't know it but he had gone a week without a face to face encounter. He'd seen more than a few of them but didn't get close enough for them to see him. "Looting? Do you have a camp nearby?" he asked hoping that she said yes. There was always the chance this was a long trip or she could lie. One more mouth to feed usually made people lie about where they had been holding out. Skit looked back down to his leg knowing that it probably wasn't a good idea to run on it. There wasn't much of a choice. When it came to choosing to run on an injury or be zombie food it was a no brainer. It was bleeding through the the fabric it was wrapped it. "I'll keep up," he said testing it as he put pressure on it. He should be able to outrun shufflers on it. If there were any other kinds of zombies out there he would be totally screwed and he wouldn't blame her if she left him. He grabbed a chain bike lock from the ground. He hadn't gotten a chance to use it before he was jumped on by the shuffler. It wasn't a gun but it helped him stay alive and that was all that mattered to him. He took a preparing breath as he followed her to the back of the store. Shit. She hadn't knocked. It was like zombie survival rule one. It would bring any zombies in the closed off room to the door and they would be able to hear them on the other side. Only now the door was open. He stood closely behind her. There wasn't any growling or anything. That was a good sign that it was a zombie free space. As she stepped into the room he pulled out a pocket flashlight and shined it into the room. It was empty of zombies and the light shined on a shipping entrance that led to the outside. Not a second after the light shined in the room he stepped in. Quietly shutting the door behind him. This was the last space between them and walking back outside which could be overrun with zombies. "Hey," he said as he turned the flashlight in her direction. Being careful not to blind her with it. "In case we die, Skit Stamp." It was better to have someone know his name incase she lived and he didn't. He wouldn't just be the guy that got jumped in the store. That she understood. Safe places were a commodity now a days, and she hadn’t been in the city in months; could be that more than just this man were looking for safe places off of the island. Bea couldn’t blame them, the government kept their safe houses well stocked, but the non-governmental ones couldn’t always be guaranteed that. She wasn’t sure why he’d headed north. Maybe he knew about Sing Sing and wasn’t letting on. Well, that was confirmation right there that he didn’t know about the prison. Or he was lying to see what she’d say. Chewing her lip a second, she nodded her swiftly. “Sing Sing,” she answered. “A group of rebels created a colony there.” Maybe it wasn’t charitable of her, but she didn’t offer up more information than that. Her biggest priority was to get out of here alive. Maybe she should have made some noise before opening the door to the backroom, but if there were more than Shufflers hanging out she didn’t want to have a face to face with them. The best she usually hoped for is to stay quiet and get through without disturbing anything. It had worked for her so far. And considering she was the only one with a firearm, she didn’t want to mess with her chances any. He got points for having a flashlight though, it made identifying things easier. And oh, there was a shipping entrance. That would work for an escape route. She caught on that he was probably thinking the same thing since the light seemed to linger there. Turning her head when he caught her attention, she appreciated that he had enough brains to keep the light out of her eyes. She couldn’t help the soft sigh at his ‘if we die’ statement. “Bea Albrecht,” she introduced herself, biting her tongue to keep from commenting on his name. Now wasn’t the time to make a statement on his name. She had to think it was a nickname. What woman in her right mind would name her kid Skit? “And we’re not going to die.” She’d been in worse situations, granted she’d never had company that was dealing with a limp. Fuck, she wished that she had some sort of radio to the rest of the looters. They really were on their own until they hit the road in front of the store again. She motioned for him to shine the flashlight back at the door, judging the distance quickly before sprinting for the door. It seemed relatively quiet in the room so she wasn’t worried about being jumped. “Think you can get the latch?” She asked him as they both came to a halt in front of the large, rolling door. She’d try, but it looked a little worse for wear so she didn’t know if she’d have enough strength to get it open. “It could be quiet out there or we could be walking into a herd, so be on your toes.” Or as on his toes as he could be with an open wound. God she wished that she’d thought to bring someone in with her. One more guy with a firearm would have been nice. Did she just say there was a colony in the prison? A prison that wasn't that far from where they were too. Maybe today was his lucky day after all. "Seriously?" he said genuinely shocked by what she said. He wasn't sure why the government didn't think of that. Now that he knew some people were living there he couldn't stop thinking about how perfect it was. It was designed to keep what was out, out and what was in, in. A prison was the perfect place to hide during a zombie apocalypse. He opened his mouth to speak then quickly shut it again. He wasn't sure if he could ask to seek sanctuary there. At least until he was able to run from the zombie hordes that had taken over the world. It was always a risk to check a room. He just wasn't one for blinding going into a room that might not be secure. Still he wasn't about to verbally question the woman that had just saved his life. She probably knew what she was doing since she had said she was looting. She wouldn't have gone off on her own if she wasn't used to her surroundings. "It's nice to meet you," he said as quietly as he could. It wasn't exactly the time for pleasantries but when was it nowadays. He liked to make time for it. It was one of his ways of holding onto the life before the zombie apocalypse. "Well I'm going to do my best to make sure you don't, " he spoke without thinking. He didn't answer with words but with moving towards the latch. There was a three second moment before he pulled on it. The was a clanking sound as the large, rolling door lifted. No zombies ran towards the opening of the door which Skit took as a good sign. He looked out the open entrance to the building. There was a truck blocking off the side that would lead towards the front of the store. It was probably why no zombies had made it to the door they were at yet. "Let's go," he said as he hopped down onto the ground. "Lead the way." It wasn't like he could lead her to her own people. “Yes, seriously.” Well, it looked like she’d be bringing a stray home; he hadn’t asked, but she could put two and two together. He wanted a safe place, she’d told him about a prison, she was just waiting for the minute when he opened his mouth and asked to hitch a ride. She didn’t think leadership would have too much of a problem with her bringing in a stray. It wasn’t like she could vouch for him though, beyond saying that he managed to not get himself eaten by zombies twice, and he hadn’t tried to fuck with her. Didn’t mean he wasn’t good at pretending. “My hero,” she deadpanned, there was a little bit of disbelief that those words had just fallen out of his mouth “Just don’t do some stupid shit like bum rush a zombie to save me. I’ve got the gun, I can handle myself.” Not that there wasn’t some comfort in the idea that he wasn’t going to throw her to the undead to save his own skin. He got points for that. He got more points for being able to work the latch enough to get the door to roll up. So maybe it hadn’t been the worst idea to rescue him. Bea held her breath as the door rolled up; there weren’t any zombie’s ground level, thank god, but that didn’t stop her from scanning rooftops. She thought she remembered someone mentioning something about seeing some undead camped out on the tops of buildings. The Shufflers weren’t a problem, but they usually never were. “Small favors,” she said and made a motion towards the truck at the end of the alley. Somebody must’ve tried to build a barricade; considering they weren’t around here anymore she wondered how much good it had done them. “Won’t keep a Smasher out though, so we’ll need to move.” Tucking her gun away only long enough to make the jump to the asphalt, she exhaled a soft grunt as her boots connected, remembering to bend her knees to absorb the impact. There was no reason to be stupid and get herself injured; Wren or Rory didn’t need to be trying to fix a battered ankle or a fucked up knee cap today. They would probably have to clean up Skit’s zombie wound anyways. Or maybe it would be one of the other medics. Now wasn’t really the time to be pondering injuries though. She caught her breath for a minute, getting her bearings about her before she headed down the alley in the direction of the golf cart, pulling her handgun back out as she went. Hoping all the while that they hadn’t moved or gotten overrun. No way did she want to explain to anyone why three of them had gone out and only she came back. They’d had enough deaths already. “Keep your eyes out for a couple of guys and a golf cart,” she said over her shoulder as she levered herself up onto the hood of the truck. It was the lowest point they could get over. “There were a couple Shufflers out here earlier, so be watching for those too.” She didn’t need him to get lucky number three, as far as attacks went. Balancing herself on the hood of the truck, she reached a hand back down to help him up. That leg had to be killer right about now. She didn’t envy him. Skit wanted to ask but he didn't push the words out. It didn't seem like the best time to take a moment and talk about the ins and outs of this prison she lived at. Maybe when the two of them got to safety. He wasn't sure he'd get too much out of her anyway. Unless she was in charge there might be rules about bringing in new people. He wasn't about to get his hopes up if he couldn't stay there. Mental note: talk about it with her later. "Alright," he said to her comment about rushing at a zombie. It was kind of a lie. He couldn't help who he was. He would rather make sure that other people were safe. After all they could have family waiting for them and he didn't have anyone. Sure, it was common to be the only one living in a family but he could only think of those ones left behind. He didn't know if she had a mother, brother, or even a child waiting for her to come back. He was the only one with her at the moment so it was up to him to make sure that she did. He waited on ground level for her to jump down. She said it herself, she was the one with the gun and also the ride. He wasn't about to walk ahead of her with no idea where to head to. She wasn't the only one that didn't want to run into a Smasher. There weren't as many as shufflers but in his mind they were way worse. That and the truck wouldn't do much against Smasher. It would probably just hinder their chances at getting away from one. He moved to the truck as Bea climbed up onto the hood of it. "Thanks," he said quietly as he took his hand to help himself up. The group of shufflers that were in the street was pretty small. He'd seen some hordes that would look like a group at a concert. Most of them seemed to be in the building he was in earlier or heading for the front of the store. There were a couple of them in the street but thankfully not too much to deal with. He carefully hopped onto the other side of the truck. There wasn’t time to sit and wait for her to point him in the direction she wanted him to go. She already mentioned something about where her men were. He looked back at her to make sure she didn’t end up going the other way. She had already saved him. No one said she had to continue doing so. He tried his best to move quietly to the street. He could see the front of a golf cart down the street a ways. He didn’t see any of her people but they could just be staying out of sight. He slowly made his way down the street and towards the golf cart. Bea offered a small smile in response to his verbal thank you. The longer she spent with him the less he felt like a threat; the less he pinged her suspicion. She was getting the impression that he really was one of those chivalrous types, the ones that were nearly extinct in the world as it was now. Or at least she hadn't run into many. Their movement hadn't caught the attention of the zombies still in the street, so she could breath a sigh of relief on that front too. Maybe they would be able to get to the cart without an all out sprint. God knows what that would do to Skit's leg; she'd never had an injury quite like that, but she assumed that running on it any more than he had to wouldn't be good. And if possible she'd rather not haul him into Sing Sing unconscious or bleeding to death. There would be enough she needed to explain as it was. She was a little more careful about getting down on the other side of the truck. The drop to the pavement wasn't any higher than the drop from the shipping door, but the less noise made the better their chances were at not drawing attention. And she did not want to draw attention. At least Skit was smart enough not to wait for her. He was already headed for the main street and the cart before her feet landed on solid ground. It was lucky for them that Jake hadn't got it in his head to hide the cart out of sight. It would make it that much easier to get to. There was a little niggle of concern in the pit of her stomach when she made it to the main road and neither Jake nor Travis were with the cart. Shit. There was no way she was going to search them down. Weren't they smarter than to walk off when they knew she was coming back out as soon as she could? This was exactly the reason why she had a set group of people she preferred to loot with; most of them didn't do stupid things like this. They were more predictable. It had only been ten or fifteen minutes at best, where the hell could they have gone off to? Once she caught up with Skit she tried to pick up their pace a little. They were halfway to the cart, it wouldn't take them long to close the distance. All the while she scanned her surroundings for either of the guys, but didn't catch much. Could be that they got bored waiting on her and chose to search one of the other buildings for supplies. It really wasn't out of the realm of possibility. When she reached the front of the cart she relaxed and perched on the driver's seat. They'd be okay to wait a little while, the zombie activity in the road was almost nonexistent now. "We're going to have to wait," she said to Skit, though she expected he already knew that. "There's an extra firearm under the seat, I think, if you want it." Travis had squirreled an extra gun away somewhere on the rig that much Bea knew. No skin off her nose if he wasn't comfortable using it though, she'd rather not get shot. "How's the leg?" It looked like it was bleeding through before, so she wondered what it looked like now. She was no medic, but if worse came to worse she could probably do up a decent enough tourniquet. It was hard to take that extra minute to show someone any appreciation. It wasn't surprising that some people decided to forget words like that even existed in the world before. Maybe it was out of place now but it was a way of holding on to the world before. It was shocking that anyone would want to let that go. Maybe not that shocking. It wasn't a good world anymore and that wasn't just the zombies. It was the people that a world hit by a zombie apocalypse turned into. The zombies hadn't noticed them on street level. Skit couldn't express his disbelief in that part of this situation. He believed that this meant he used up all his bad lucky for that day. It was a good thing since he wasn't traveling alone at the moment. Skit wasn't about to look back unless he heard gunshots. If he didn't hear those than he was sure that she was alright and following after him. He wanted to get to that golf cart as fast as possible. Although he didn't want to get too ahead of Bea. Her men might not be as willing to help as she was. He would need her if they went on the defensive when he turned the corner. He turned the corner only to find an empty golf cart. Skit waited until Bea reacted to the empty golf cart. She didn't look too happy with the fact that her men hadn't stayed with the golf cart but she did get onto it. It was at the point that he moved to the passenger side of the golf cart. He took out the gun from the bottom of the seat then hopped into the golf cart. He wasn't sure how much longer he could continue standing on that leg. He set the gun on the seat then moved down to unwrap his leg. It wasn't bleeding as much as it was before but it was still bleeding. He put the wrap back on it and held down tightly. It was clear that he needed to put more pressure on it after all the moving around. "It's still bleeding," he said as some noise came from behind them. He picked up the gun and pointed in the direction of the noise. Two men came out carrying a duffel bag that seemed to be full of stuff. Well, at least she knew an aversion to firearms wasn’t a thing with him, though that still didn’t rule out the fact that she could get shot by accident. Not that she was overly concerned. Massaging the space between her eyebrows, she wanted nothing more than to rest her head against the steering wheel for only a moment, but she couldn’t even afford that small allowance. She allowed herself a sigh when Skit confirmed what she suspected; he was still bleeding, and that wasn’t good. “We have a couple doctors, they should be able to fix you up.” Because who was she kidding, Skit was coming back to Sing Sing with them. It would be a bitch move to leave him in Ossining without medical attention, even if she didn’t want to be labeled the woman who brought back a stray. He wouldn’t be her responsibility as soon as they hit the gates. “Fuck, don’t shoot,” Bea hissed, angling herself in the seat so she could see the two men better, and so they could get the full effect of her scowl straight off. At least it looked like they had made some sort of haul. Didn’t lessen her irritation of coming back to an empty cart by much though; she didn’t want to hear their excuses either. Sliding from behind the wheel she crossed her arms over her chest. “I made it out,” she told them, voice dry. “I’m sure you were so fucking concerned. Also, this is Skit Stamp, he’s injured.” She motioned at Skit in the passenger seat. “Also immune, so it’s his lucky day.” Jake started to explain but Bea threw a hand up before he could start with any of his BS. “We headed back then?” Travis asked, dropping the duffel bag on the back seat of the cart. “Yeah, I think so.” Nothing they had come out for was life or death, so Bea didn’t feel all that badly about heading back with so little to show for it. “You got anything else you need to grab before we head back?” Maybe he had a hideout or something; he said he was passing through, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t stashed some belongings somewhere. Just because Skit didn't have a gun at the time didn't mean he hasn't used one. It was nearly impossible not to when trying to survive outside of a safe house. He just didn't have time to grab one before the last place he was at fell to a zombie attack. He couldn't believe how long ago that was. Bea was talking about the doctors at this prison. She wouldn't have mentioned it if she wasn't planning on bringing him with her. He was hoping that she would since he had no way of properly treating the zombie bite on his leg. "I'll keep a hold of it until we get there," just wrapping wouldn't do much. He had to keep continuous pressure on it until someone could take a look at it. He would hate to bleed to death before he even got through the prison gates. Skit only lowered the gun when Bea hissed at him. It wasn't like he could know that they were friendlies. There were so many horrible people in this world that one couldn't be careful enough. "Hi," he said with a slight nod. Apparently she wasn't one to put up with bullshit. Who knows? The guy's story could have been convincing enough for her not to be completely pissed at them. Skit was just glad that they didn't have to wait too long for Bea's men to get there. Just because the zombies hadn't paid that much attention to them earlier didn't mean they'd stay that lucky. "No," he said pulling on one of the shoulder straps. "Everything's in the pack." He leaned back as the two other men jumped onto the golf cart. Neither of them seemed too happy that Skit was tagging along with them but didn't say anything. Both of the other men gave half-hearted acknowledgements of Skit, though Bea could tell they were skeptical of the whole thing. She didn’t blame them. The cart was tight with three; it was going to be a real squeeze with four. And there were already enough people in Sing Sing without picking up more. “Perfect.” She flashed what might have been a smile, but it vanished off her face too quickly to really pinpoint. For sake of space she climbed onto the back of the cart with Travis, letting Jake drive. Usually she would have preferred to, but she took up the least amount of space and the back of the cart was a lot less comfortable than the front. It was easier to keep an eye out too as they headed along the familiar path back towards the prison. “Are you going to fill leadership in on this?” Jake asked, keeping his eyes on the street but raising his voice enough for Bea to hear. “What, on the fact that I rescued a guy in town? I might say something to Evan, if I feel I need to. But I’m not going to do introductions or anything.” He was a grown man, he didn’t need her to do that. “Figured I’d aim you in the direction of the infirmary, let you know who you needed to talk to about staying around.” The last part was directed at Skit. They weren't the most welcoming group but they probably hadn't planned on Skit coming into their lives. They were only there for a few supplies and maybe a bit of zombie killing. He wouldn't consider himself a supply off their list. As useful as he thought he could be. He sat back and listened to the three of them talk. There was a sinking feeling as one of the man spoke about filling in leadership. Just because Bea was bringing him to the prison didn't mean he wouldn't be allowed to stay there. He had to keep his hopes on being stitched up and given a few days to rest. If he had his hopes too high then he wouldn't be able to leave without putting in his two cents. "That works for me," he had been walking on the leg up until now. "I'll probably need another wrap to walk up to the infirmary." The one he was using to keep the pressure was soaked and actually a t-shirt. He had to make do on the run. It wasn't doing the job that well. The group wasn't too far off from the prison. Jake was driving pretty fast considering he'd seen the fabric Skit was using to cover his bite. The man was convinced that they'd lose the stray before they even got to the prison. He didn't want all Bea's work of saving the dud to go to waste. "Okay, we're here. Are you taking the gimp?" Jake asked Bea as he got out of the golf cart. It was rude but the fellow looter didn’t seem to care. Wracking her brain, Bea tried to think of something else that Skit could use for his leg to staunch the bleeding. It wasn’t like they kept First Aid kits lying around on the carts. The only other thing she could think of was the supply duffel bag; there could be something in there. Pulling the bag to her she opened the zipper to rummage around inside, finding what looked like a hand towel towards the bottom. “Here, this should work,” she told him as she handed the towel forward, ignoring the dirty look that Travis was giving her. If she was lucky both of the guys would get over their little adventure today and they wouldn’t start thinking she was more trouble than she was worth. Hopping down from the back of the cart, Bea just nodded. “Yeah, I’ll make sure he gets there. Could you sign me back in?” Last thing she needed was some misunderstanding about where she was, but she didn’t think they could detour to the sign-in building without putting Skit in a worse state. “Sure,” Travis replied, taking both the duffel and the gun that Bea had told Skit he could use. It was his extra piece, so it wasn’t like Bea could tell him to leave it. Turning her attention back to Skit, Bea looked him over. He was starting to lose a little color. Definitely starting to look like the poster boy for why you shouldn’t get bit by a zombie, aside from the whole might turn into one thing. “Need a hand?” It wouldn’t be fun trying to help him to the infirmary, but she’d grit her teeth and bare it. And then count it for her one good deed for the month. She certainly wouldn’t be doing the Good Samaritan act on a regular basis. Aside from continuing to try and find the few Sing Sing residents that have already gone missing. Skit reached up and took the towel. Looking at it he didn't think he could wrap it tightly around his leg. He left the t-shirt on his leg as he wrapped the towel around the shirt and his leg. "Thanks," he said as he pulled it tight. It wasn't that much better than the t-shirt but it would manage until he got to the infirmary. There was a sign in? He didn't expect a place that wasn't controlled by the government to have a sign in. Guess it was better than strange people coming and going at all hours. They were more organized than he thought. He really only had three people to judge this prison. "I think I'll be able to manage it," he said stepping out of the golf cart. She would have to bare some of his weight and he was a lot bigger than she was. He just wasn't sure if that would work out well for either of them. He started walking. A few steps out he put his hand on Bea's shoulder. Not using her as leverage but as something to keep him from limping as much. He would be glad when he could get off the leg for a while. The walk to the infirmary was slow going, but that wasn't much of a surprise to Bea. Probably any adrenaline that had been masking some of the pain in Skit's leg had diminished and now he was really starting to feel it.But that was only her guess. She also wasn't surprised that even though he'd said he could manage it on his own, he ended up using her as support just a little bit. Not that she minded, she had made the offer in the first place and just figured when he said he he didn't need the help that it was typical male pride. At least she'd come out of this without blood stains on her clothes. She couldn't afford to lose them. There were the typical curious looks from the few Sing Sing residents they passed on their way, but either they weren't curious enough to ask, or they didn't know everyone, since they didn't ask any questions about what had happened. Or they just didn't care. Either way, it made their walk that much faster. When they reached the infirmary Bea stepped inside first and scanned the room for staff. She didn't recognize the man, but he seemed to be on top of things, crossing the room rather quickly when he caught sight of her and Skit. "What happened?" he asked, ushering Skit to one of the chairs. "Zombie attack. He says he's immune though, so I brought him here," Bea explained. "If you don't need me for anything else I'm going to go." When neither man said they needed her she slipped out of the infirmary; mind focused now on how she might explain herself. If it came to that. |