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Futuristic BioGenesis: Surviving the Post Apocalypse

Lena almost wanted to swat his hands away, to press her palms over her scar. She pushed the urge down. Help was necessary in this situation. There was no getting out of it. A cringe shuddered through her as he put peroxide on the gash, and she clenched her teeth to center herself. The man was talking to her in easy tones. The calm and professional voice was one that she had used many times back when she was a Physician's Assistant before the virus. Now she was the patient.


"So, Lena, right? Where are you from?" his voice talked evenly through the ache she felt.



"Yep, Lena," she kept her eyes shut as she talked, using one hand to undo the ponytail that was now giving her a headache. Anything to get her mind off of the stinging. As her hair fell over her shoulders, she felt a little better. "I once was from Atlanta. Not anymore. What about you? I don't even know your name. Or the munchkin's name. Is that your daughter?"


She paused, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers.
"That was a lot of questions. I'm sorry. Com scratches bring out the worst in me. And by worst, I mean I will probably never be this fucking talkative ever again," she took the opportunity to look at her abdomen when got up and began to look through the area. Looking at it made her feel like it hurt worse.


Under her breath, she muttered
"Fuck."
 
Upon exiting he looked around to see where the noise had originated from. Doing so he saw the big guy who threw the Compromised before around, with the child in hand heading towards one of the rooms. His curiosity overtook him as he headed down to where he had went. The lab was in ruins and he wasn't worried about contamination considering the bleaching. Upon nearing the entrance he heard the young women, Lena, utter "I'm in a bit of...a predicament, Cap...".


He peeked around the bend and saw a nasty gash wound on Lena's abdomen as well as a Compromised near the entrance of the room that was clearly dead. It didn't take him long to put one and one together. He saw the big guy take charge quickly of her and lay her down on a cot. Studying the room he recognized a lot of medical materials and how the big guy seemed handy with them. "Perhaps I should offer assistance." he pondered. He decided to enter the room since standing there peeping would gain him little. While the big guy was busy in the cabinet he over looked Lena. "What a interesting scar you have huh." he said to Lena who seemed dazed. He then directed his words to the big guy and said "I have some medical tools that could help you get this little missy back on her toes.". For him this was an excellent chance to learn about the new guy and Lena. He started to remove his backpack to get the tools from within it.
 
"What a interesting scar you have huh."


The voice of Mitch instantly set Lena on edge. She stirred, grabbing her beloved leather jacket to cover her abdomen. It caused waves of sharp pain burst from her gash, but she didn't care. She hated the scar enough as it was for one person to see it, let alone a second person.


"Who the fuck are you calling little missy?" Lena hissed. "You had a fucking gun pointed at my head like an hour ago. If you think you're going to get within a foot of me holding any sort of medical tool, you've got another thing coming. I will kick your ass. Get the fuck out!"


She was talking fast, her words edgy and sharp. Pressing a hand to her forehead, she groaned. "Cap. I hate to be so needy but please just get that loon out of here. The fucker threatened to kill me earlier."





The words took all the energy Lena had, and she exhaled softly and covered her eyes with one of her hands. She. Hated. This.
 
He frowned at her response. "You clearly didn't understand what was going on during that time." he barked. "Was I suppose to walk up to you all flowers and sunshine?" he taunted. "No, I took the smart idea and kept you at guns length encase you had the same idea." he said. "I would have shot you from a distance if I wanted you dead you idiot!" he barked. He stopped a moment to regain composure."So, little missy do you want to be stuck in bed for a while or back on your feet?" he said stictly. "Answer quickly." he said impatiently.


He did expect her to have a grudge about the gun incident. Still he needed to regain her trust. She was one of the better fighters. He didn't need this type of person to suspect him.
 
Derek listened quietly to Lena's stream of speech as he returned to tend her wound. He didn't think it would leave a scar over the ones she already had, but it would require stitches and time to heal a cut that large. Thankfully the scratch wasn't too deep. Cleaning the wound once more, he retrieved a leather bound wooden rod from his bag, holding it up to her mouth.


"Bite down on this. Don't worry, it hasn't been used yet."


Suddenly, another man he hadn't met before entered the room, offering to assist him with her injury. Almost immediately, Lena tensed up and covered her abdomen with her jacket, shouting at the man to leave. The two got into a brief argument, and while Derek wasn't certain what had gone down between the two, in the interest of his patient he turned to the man.


"I appreciate your offer to help, but the wound isn't severe. All it needs is a few stitches, and I have everything I need." He lowered his voice, somewhat annoyed, "However, I can't get this finished if she's all riled up, so at least wait outside until I finish."


Turning back to Lena, he waited for her to calm down and bite down on the leather, turning his body in a position that would conceal her scarring and removing her jacket. He also searched for his sterile stitching kit, then prepared a needle with suture thread, tying off one end.


In a further attempt to calm her down, he continued by answering her questions while wiping the blood from her now agitated injury. "This is my hometown, actually. I went to school here for chemical engineering, if you can believe it. Didn't graduate though."


Nodding to Lena to make sure she was ready, he began the process of stitching her wound, calmly weaving the needle in loops through each side of the cut.


"And no, I'm not Macie's father. I'm her uncle."


A mild frown showed briefly in his features, but disappeared quickly.


"Her mother died shortly after the outbreak began. I've been taking care of her since." He glanced up at Lena. "This part will hurt the most, I have to tighten the wound closed."


Derek pulled firmly on the thread, then when he was sure it was in a tight enough position to heal properly, tied off the end and cut the excess. Taking some fresh gauze, he patted the sealed wound clean once more, then applied a sterile dressing of gauze, held down by surgical tape.
 
He could see the man wouldn't help his case with her. No matter he thought. "I'll do as you say sir but take this for now." he said. He grabbed from inside one of the steel cubes form early before the catheterizer. He placed it on a table near him. "It will seal her wound quite well you'll see. Just be sure to return it." he said softly. He exited the room and out of their sight, but he made sure to be able to hear them from outside the door. "Pesky young people." he thought. He grabbed out his leather bound journal making notes on the conversation he was hearing as well as information about the lab he exited recently. Hopefully helping him heal her will put me on the his good side. She was still a possible threat. "How to deal with this.." he pondered.
 
"I'd rather be fucking stuck in bed for the next ten years than be in this room with you for ten more seconds-" Lena's speech was cut out as "Cap" calmly told Mitch to leave. She was about the add some more of her opinion in when he turned his body to hide her from sight, and gingerly moved the jacket. Mitch was gone before any words left her mouth. Sighing in relief and nervousness, she resigned to what would happen.


Biting down on the leather, she listened to Cap as he spoke. His words were calming, but the pain made black dots spark at the corners of her vision. As he dressed the wound after the stitching, Lena let out a slow breath. She allowed herself to fall so she was laying on her back.


"I have a nephew. My sister's son. She died even before the virus, when he was really small. So he was like my son more than anything. We got separated a while back. Taking care of another life...I get it," she nodded, covering her eyes with her forearm as she tried to ignore the pain of her abdomen and of remembering Asher. "Ugh, where are all the drugs when you need them?"


She lifted her arm a little to study the man's face. He had a line between his eyebrows, a ghost of a frown. Despite his large size, he had been surprisingly gentle. Lena felt her face redden a bit.


"Thank you, by the way. I'm sorry if I was a bitch earlier. New environment and all," she blinked. "You still haven't said your name,"
 
Raizel said:
Chris looked at Carter with a... Well, it's hard to tell what kind of face Chris made. It wasn't happy or angry, more like... concerned? "What? Why? What do you mean? I-I...What?" Chris stopped after a while. What the hell? Touching my face? Is she suggesting... No, of course not, Jeez, but... Aagh, this took a turn to the weird faster than I expected! Chris stared at the girl for a while, his arms covered by some strapped up cloth. "Well... I seriously think that's really fucking weird, but... okay. Don't mind my arm, though." He unstrapped his left arm, letting the skin show. "Here, go ahead." He extended his arm. There was a significant amount of burn scars on it, from various sizes. The worst one was almost all black, save from few red spots on it. Looking at it, he winced and closed his eyes. He didn't want to see that.
Carter nodded and looked at his arm. "Hm..." She lightly poked his arm, quickly retracting it and holding her breathe. Carter then put her whole hand on his arm. Her hands were cold as usual but they quickly heated them up. "W-wow..." Carter stuttered. "Not dreaming..." Carter said. Her face was a bit flushed and she started walking again. 'This is real, good.' Carter thought, relieved. "Lets go!" She said, suddenly very happy. 'Yay!' Carter thought enthusiastically as she walked. Soon enough, she came across a door. Carter looks over her shoulder and gestures towards Chris to come closer and asking whether or not they should go in or go get others.
 
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Chris was dumbfounded. He stared at the girl for a solid minute, almost looking like that her touch turned him into stone. Snapping out of the trance, he covered again his arm, and walked alongside Carter. "Okay, that was... weird. I won't talk about this if you won't. Soooo, you didn't tell me where are you from, and how did you end up here. All you did was touch my- I said I wasn't going to talk about it." He chuckled a little, then looked at Carter. "Do you ever touch someone else's arms when you meet someone?" He said, then bursted out laughing at the weirdness of that scene. The first cute girl that I met weirds me out on the first opportunity. I guess that's the post-epidemic world to you, huh.
 
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"I don't remember where I'm from or how I ended up here. All I remember is me running and then seeing the flare out of the corner of my eye." Carter whispered, smiling at the thought of running. She stood next to the door with her ear pressed against it to see if there was any shuffling or moaning of sorts. "Cut me some slack!" She said, laughing slightly afterwards. "It's been a year since I've had any sort of human communication or contact. I was curious. But to answer your question, currently, yes. I touched Frank's arm, but I got too scared and only tapped it." Carter said truthfully.


For some odd reason, she didn't seem sad or offended about anything. Only happy emotions seemed to vibrate off of the girl. "I don't hear anything." Carter then whispered, remembering what she was suppose to be doing. She clutched her knife and placed her hand on the cold doorknob, turning it until she heard a satisfying click. 'Unlocked, good.' Carter thought, smiling wider. Her face was still covered in muck as well as her clothes. She looked like a girl that just climbed out of a pot hole. "Okay, on three," Carter said, excitement and anticipation filling her empty stomach. "One... Two... Three!" Carter whisper-yelled, swinging open the door and holding the knife up as if she was expecting something to be standing there. "Oh..." Carter mumbled, laughing of relief. 'Nothing was there.' She thought, letting her guard down slightly.


(Trigger warning, next paragraph))


Suddenly, she heard a moan coming from the corner. It wasn't really a moan, it was more of a choking sound. Carter tensed up again, eyes widened slightly. "It came from the corner." She whispered, using her knife to point in the direction she heard it from. Carter usually isn't the type of girl to go towards a scary noise in the dark, but curiousity got the best of her and she tip-toed over in that direction until she saw it. A young male with chunks of meant taken out of his waist. Carter just smiled like she always did. "A man goes into a library and asks for a book on suicide. The librarian says, "Fuck off, you won't bring it back."" Carter quoted, laughing like nothing was wrong.


Carter often did that. Making crude remarks and jokes about serious problems. That's just how Carter faces with reality. She plays it off like nothing ever happened and that everything's rainbows and sunshines. Although, she also does it to cheer others around her up. Make them hopeful that good can come from such a bad world but sometimes she only upsets them more.
 
"That... That was really fucked up." He said, while muffling a chuckle. As soon as Carter started laughing, the Compromised turned around and charged for the two survivors. Chris got startled for a second, then with a swift motion, he slashed the man's face, ripping his jaw and making him fall to the ground with a flump. "You wanna kill us both? You can laugh, but keep it quiet!" He said, while cleaning the kukri. He sighed, then sheathed the knife and looked at the now dead Compromised. "Well that's a jaw dropping sight." He said, while muffling another laugh. "See what you made me say? We're both fucked up, I tell you." He catch up to Carter's coping mechanism. Making fun of tragedy often takes the heavy atmosphere of it. Chris didn't like it too much, after all, those were people, living things that he had to kill, or else he would die, but he was tired of feeling melancholic. "Let's go, you dont want to go to hell right now, do you? You need to help around first."
 
Sinikka had only given Airiana a simple nod in response to her phrase of gratitude. It was at this moment when Sinikka had heard something, a muffled vocal outburst. It was higher in pitch and distant, vaguely in the direction of one of the scouting parties. It was hard to make out what kind of sound it was. "What was that?" She said, under her breath. She turned and stood for a second listening for more sounds. Sinikka turned back to Airiana, "I'm sorry. I have to go check something." Her voice held a subtle tone of worry, "I realize that this place isn't exactly a five star hotel, but make yourself comfortable." And with that, Sinikka fled down the hall, seeking the approximate location of the sounds that she heard.


It wasn't long until she had found both Chris and Carter. "Are you two alright?" She inquired, "I heard some commotion." Sinikka then noticed the fallen compromised man, and let out a a quiet "Oh."
 
Derek was surprised to hear about the younger woman’s nephew. She’d seemed like quite an independent girl, but then again, he probably had appeared the same way to everyone else. In any case, he knew very well the feeling of losing someone important in a critical moment. He didn’t really know how to respond to the situation with her nephew, however, and chose to stay quiet. He at least had his niece, Lena had no one. He was somewhat taken aback by her sudden apology, scratching lightly at his temple and averting his eyes.


“Can’t really blame you," he relented, "since my own attitude didn’t help. I haven’t had many pleasant encounters with strangers. Anyway, the name’s Derek, but most people call me- or used to call me, D.C. Macie calls me “Dee” so that works too.”


Derek glanced at her abdomen, now properly bandaged. The massive scar peeked out from under the dressing, as if desperate to tell its own story. He shuffled through his pack, pulling out one of his own spare muscle shirts, and thrust it toward her.


“It’s not very lady-like,” He smirked, “But I have a feeling that wouldn’t bother you. It’ll be pretty big on you though, so you might want to find something smaller later.”


Once again, he perused the contents of his bag, but scratched his head, exasperated.


“Unfortunately, I’m out of pain-killers, but there’s bound to be some around.” He hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to hide his knowledge of the medical storage in the school, but thought better of it. “Having attended here, I know where the school kept all their drug and chemical supplies. Assuming everything there is untouched, we should have a hefty stock.”
 
Chris looked at the woman who just arrived. He waved his hand, and called her over. "Oh, suit girl! I'm sorry you had to run all that way, but just that Carter here has a broke sense of humor, that's all." He scratched his head in a dramatic fashion. "But never mind now, the damage has been done. Well, if you want, you can come along as well. I mean, a group does a better job at scouting, more eyes, y'know. Do you have a weapon you can use?" Chris looked at the distinct lack of weaponry that the girl in the suit had. Such carelessness in this world could cast someone's life. "You shouldn't be seen without a weapon, and I'm pretty sure that this briefcase doesn't have the stopping power for a Compromised."
 
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Lena took the faded muscled shirt, the fabric light in her fingers. She quirked an eyebrow up, but smiled and set it back down next to him.


“Thank you. But as much as the opportunity to wear clothes I would be swimming in excites me, I do have more clothes of my own too. Pity though, because I liked the shirt I’m wearing now a lot. Now it’s slightly ruined. I appreciate the gesture though, Derek. I think I might stick with Cap though, because honestly Cap suits you way better,” she responded casually, reaching into her bag and tugging out an old pullover hooded sweatshirt. It was inky black, with “UWA, PA program” printed across the front in block letters, a small torch emblem underneath. Putting it on over her torn tank, she shook out her hair and began folding it into a long side braid.


She thought about her real name. She'd adopted the similar pseudonym of Lena, after a man named Elias Dove on had recognized her real name after the outbreak. He connected it with billionaire scientist Leonard Pax, her stepfather and the stoic CEO of Paxtronic Med International. One of Elias's brothers had been taken by PMI...and Lena barely made it out of the fight that broke out after.



During the government collapse when the virus was at its peak, Leonard Pax managed to detain so many people on the grounds of research, claiming their mental instability. The torture they'd had to endure because of the experiments he'd conducted on them. He recalled his metallic voice, telling her that she was weaker and lesser for not putting the advancement of science and technology first.



Elianna Pax is as dead as my past. Good thing Christopher didn't seem to recognize that name all of those months ago. It was stupid of me to say anything.



Derek's voice snapped her back into reality. He was talking about his knowledge of the school, where things were located.
“That’s right, you went to school here. You must know the layout pretty well then. Maybe we should look around here, start documenting supplies or something. What I’d give some acetaminophen right now. Or percocet. Or meth,” she joked lightly. “But anyway. Do you think you could show me around? If this is really filled with supplies…”


Her words trailed away as she finished her braid and looked out the window wistfully. She would be secure, safe. And she’d have a place to come back to after her long days of searching for Asher.
 
"Well." Sinikka began, "Firstly, I am glad you two weren't hurt by love-handles, here." Sinikka proceeded to look down at her briefcase. "Secondly, I'd love to join, but no, yeah, this isn't exactly the best defense. If you had something for me to use, then, great." Reflecting on the past several years, Sinikka had actually found it amazing that she managed to survive without the use of a weapon. It was mostly through using people and cowardice that had saved her from dying on a variety of occasions. She felt impressed, and had shown it in her facial expression, paired with a slight nod of the head.


She interrupted her unexplained expression of satisfaction, "By the way, you can call me Eirene... Or Jinan. Your pick, really. I'll respond to either."
 
Mitch Adam Clockwiser Location: Outside Medical Room. Currently eave dropping on Lena and Derek.



Listing to their conversation he could tell Lena was going to be back on her feet and moving. Closing the leather book and nodding with satisfaction he was happy with the information he gathered simple from eave dropping. He walked back into the welcoming darkness of the university corridor heading towards the Laboratory again. He turned on his small key chain light to try and show the path ahead but it only showed a small part leaving him blind to most of what was around him like his own perspective on the world. He reached the door and the smell of chemical death that leaked from it feeling at ease. As if it was the only place he could truly be. Rather then enter he sat down and leaned against a wall. He pulled out his leather book and flipped through its pages looking for something that the book could never enlighten him with. As he did so he felt a chill crawl up his spine and released a yawn. He had been on the road for days after leaving the labs and he never truly slept. The only thing giving him energy being the flesh of rats and unfulfilled hopes. As he flipped through the pages his eyes kept closing till eventually they stopped opening. As he fell asleep the book dropped from his hands. It was only natural that he would fall asleep in the only place he ever felt peace at mind.


His dreams brought him elsewhere, to place that was lost. There was a women with with filthy hair and a blanket wrapped around her. She was rapidly writing away with eyes wide open looking at the papers but not truly at them. Her mind was elsewhere. Worried he said "Mom you didn't sleep again." he whimpered.
 
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Chris looked at Sinikka's expression with amusement. "Well, you look awfully happy to not have a weapon, it seems." He smiled while opening his camping backpack. "Good thing I always keep some tools in my backpack, and better thing they also double as weapons." He took a claw hammer and a small camping Axe, measuring their weight in both hands. He stowed away the hammer and handed the Axe to Sinikka. "Here, you can keep it. It's not that big, but it's light, so I guess it's easier to handle. Just remember to give a downwards strike, it's more effective." He strapped the backpack again, putting on his shoulder. It was rather impressive to see a 1,60m guy lifting that large backpack, but Chris handled that with ease. "By the way, my name's Christopher, but you can call me Chris. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jinan." He gave a heartwarming smile, then looked like he remembered something. "Oh, and one thing that's bugging me, and I apologize for being rude, but why this specific choice of apparel? I mean, there are several more clothes that give mobility and protection."
 
Frank grabbed another corpse as Lena stepped off from the short lived assistance she offered. It didn't bother him though, moving corpses wasn't exactly the most ideal work. However, it was quiet and gave him time to think. And with all the recent events, he had a lot to think about. Tossing the confirmed dead yellow man over his shoulder, he stood up gently making his way back outside. It was starting to cool off in the night and a breeze hit against his skin through the open door. The cooling sensation felt nice after carrying around all this dead weight. Walking to the entrance by the newly arrived guest into the courtyard, Frank nodded his head in approval and spoke softly, "Hello and welcome."


Tossing the body with the rest of the recent kills, it appeared a good size pile was forming. Digging a hole big enough to put them all in was going to take a while and wastefully consume a lot of energy. Burning them was starting to look like a optimal solution. It would be best to wait until day time to start the bonfire, to cause less of a attraction. The flare that was shot off earlier was already causing enough attention as is.


Seeing as others would more likely trickle in through the night, Frank decided to take guard for the night. He was already going to be in and out moving corpses anyway and it would give the other members time to rest and heal while he could make sure no infected crawled in the front door. Reaching in pocket he pulled out a partially smoked cigar and stuck it in his mouth. In his upper right chest pocket of his duster he pulled out a match box and lit a wooden match. Sharing the flame of the match, he lit his cigar thinking to himself, "It's going to be a long night."
 
Connor ran through the rather silent city. Nothing made much noise anymore, except for the Compromised anyway. He was making his way to where the flare was. He had decided to come later, thinking that it was all an ambush and he could pick through the scraps. Lopin his way down the street, he absent mindedly zig-zags down the street, becoming a much harder target to hit.


As he ran, he wondered what he could find. Hopefully a couple of bullets, that would be the best case scenario. That and a better backpack, the one he currently had has certainly seen better days. But with the good comes the bad. The bad would be that no one had taken the bait, and the bandits were getting a bit bored and a little mad. They would just love an excuse to make him dance at that point.
 
Waiting for Lena to get ready, Derek bode his time leaning against the frame of the large windows, gazing out silently at the ever- encroaching torrent of rain. He smiled slightly, listening to her plan to document the various types of supplies that could be available. Gradually, however, his visage darkened, and his smile contorted.


"I think it's great, the idea of a survivors colony. I really do." He spoke, not particularly talking to Lena, but more to externalize his thoughts. "But... I can't... we can't stay."


He pivoted slowly on his heels, letting the distant flashes of lightning glance off of his back, and pointed toward his niece, who lay quietly asleep in her cot.


"The only reason I came back to this city was for her. I'm looking for her father, and it's my fault that they are separated in the first place." Derek's voice quieted as his line of sight fell to the floor. "I don't know if he's still out there, but if there's any hope that he's alive, she deserves to be with him. "


Meandering forward, hands in his pockets, Derek knelt beside Macie, covering her lightly with a wool blanket. Her dark hair swirled about her face haphazardly as she curled up under the blanket.


"I will show you where the supplies are, but we are leaving once she's gotten some rest, and once this storm has passed."
 
The lightning illuminated the room, rain outside providing a steady pattering noise. Lena stood up, cracking her knuckles one by one. She listened quietly as he talked, watching him slowly cover up his niece with a blanket. Leaning her back against the window pane, she folded her arms and nodded. She would have rather had his help throughout, but she understood his reasoning for leaving...even though she might not have done the same.


"While I think this is the safest environment any of us could possibly hope for now...I get why you would keep going," Lena shrugged one shoulder. "Responsibilities and whatnot. I guess they still exist now."


Her mind was brimming with the possibilities of this place, near overflowing. The hope she felt in her veins was something she'd forgotten existed. Crossing her ankles, she pressed a hand against the chilly window glass. The college sprawled, hulking and huge and...safe. A few hours before, she never thought a place like this would exist.


How did I get so lucky?
 
The sound of the rain was calming even for the given horrid view. Frank watched as the neatly stacked pile of bodies collected water in the courtyard. It appeared that burning them in the morning was going to be out of the question, especially without a fuel. Of course he could just toss gasoline on them, but in current times it wasn't worth wasting such a precious resource on trash disposal. With the amount of rain that had fallen so far, they were going to be soaked. He recalled Lena joking about what could be more fun then moving bodies. Frank thought to himself, "Moving water logged and rotting bodies." Looks like he would be digging a hole after all. At least the ground would be soft thanks to the rain.


Continuing to watch the rain come down, Frank had taken shelter under the extended overhang roofing in the courtyard. Luckily for him, the college had placed a nicely built public bench in the convenient location. He continued smoking the cigar which was continuing to burn to a smaller size. Although in this time of joy, all he could think about was his family. The happiness that filled his life for such a short glimpse, seemed the be painful memory burnt into his brain that he could never erase.


Pulling out a .44 magnum from his belt which laid hidden behind his duster, Frank held it tightly in his hand and examined the weapon. The massive weapon seemed almost small in his titan like hands. Opening the cylinder he looked down the chambers peering through the empty holes. All but one chamber sat bare and empty. Closing the cylinder Frank spun the cylinder thinking, "If only I could forget."


Spitting out the cigar it fell to ground and rolled from the pavement into the wet grass which quickly extinguished the small burning embers as rain fell on it. As his breathing became more rapid he quickly shifted the large hand cannon up to the side of his head in swift motion. Pointing the barrel directly to the side of his skull, he held in a deep breath. Frank closed his eyes pulling the trigger and hearing a click as the hammer of the gun came down. Only to realize he had false fired and empty chamber. Releasing his breath with a small sigh, a flash of lighting was seen through his eyelids. Putting away his magnum back on his belt, he calmed his breathing and opened his eyes to watch the rain again. In a soft spoken tone he said, "I'll remember another day."
 
Moving back to his feet, Derek glanced over at Lena, who was staring out the window over the vast expanse of the campus grounds. Had he been alone, he might have considered staying, and probably would. It was in his nature to want to help people, even if he was a sarcastic asshole half the time.


"If I survive, and find Macie's father alive... well, regardless of whether he's alive or dead, I'll try to make it back here."


Derek folded his arms across his chest, one hand lightly stroking his beard. The rain, which had reached a crescendo, splattered mercilessly against the pane glass windows, sounding off like an unending drum-roll. The hypnotizing repetition of the pattering flooded his mind and body with fatigue, his vision swimming. He knew it would only be so long before the caffeine from his earlier coffee wore off. Derek looked to his former patient once more, then sat upon a cot opposite of his niece's.


I don't know if I can trust her, he pondered silently, but.... intuition tells me she's not a bad person. In any case, if I don't get some sleep soon, my 'intuition' will be on the level of a drunk teenager.


Derek stretched his body and removed his shirt, the cool draft wafting over his tattooed torso. Reaching into his pack, he found his half-spent notebook and pencil, which he used to write down lists of supplies, and map areas, then opened the pad to a fresh page. He couldn't remember all the details of his college days, but thinking hard, Derek began to recall the approximate layout of the campus. His pencil began tracing lines over the page in sort of a rough blueprint, listing the different areas of interest and different buildings detached from the main hall. Finally, after throwing on the finishing touches in the form of footnotes designating the locations of useful supplies, he man folded the paper into fourths and stood, approaching Lena.


"Here," he addressed her with the map held out, "This is about everything I can remember. Some of it might be wrong, as it's been quite a while since I last visited here, but this is as much as I can do."
 
"Hey, uh... I just realized, I'm deathly starving, so I guess I gotta go, find something to eat. You two may proceed ahead, anything else and you just shout! Ta ta!" Chris gave a last look around to see if everything was safe, and returned from where the three came. Indeed, he was starving, but he was more interested on what the other residents have found. Curiosity was always both a advantage and an disadvantage for Chris. Advantage because led him to many weapon caches and food stocks back in the past, and disadvantage because said weapon caches and food stocks were guarded by Compromised or being raided by poachers and bandits.


He went back to the main hall, and after a bit of wandering there, he found dusted on the ground, beneath a pile of broken glass and and two broken chairs, a map of the place. Well freaking finally! Ah, so let's see, what we have. Hmm, So I was on the dormitories, and... wait, a greenhouse? Plants! Food! Wow, I gotta check this! But first, I gotta see if the others are okay. Also show them this, it would be a lot useful for, well...mapping? He chuckled and went on.


Hearing muffled sounds coming from the clinic, he knocked on the door, and without waiting for someone to answer, barged in. "Hey guys, I just found the map of the pla-" Chris stopped on his tracks when he saw Lena and Derek on the clinic. He saw the utensils used for making the bandages, dirty with blood, in a table near Lena. "Hey, what happened? Who got hurt?"
 

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