Chapter One.
She sat back silently, cradling the coffee, reveling in the warmth it provided her, the comfort it brought. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a truly hot drink. She shrugged her shoulders lightly, shifting the rough brown blanket forward a little, bringing it to cover more. The wind had picked up - she could feel it, even in the high walled enclosure. The hospital gown she was wearing was pretty thin. As she sipped the coffee, she smiled minutely. It was delicious. Definitely instant, definitely a three in one kind of packet and without doubt the best thing she had tasted in a long, long time.
Frank had graciously offered them tea when they had settled into his small, comfortable flat but he'd been too nervous, too worried about the generator to allow the kettle to reach full boil, and the powdered milk he'd had to use had just clumped together, making a foamy, white, lukewarm drink more reminiscent of a poor cappuccino than a cup of tea.
She looked into the depths of the mug, letting her thoughts drift to Frank, the others. Were they still being checked out? Perhaps they were still waiting at the car? It was strange to be away from Selena, Jim and Hannah. Horrible to be severed from Frank.
Strange to be able to relax, to think. Strange to not have to worry.
She sighed again, thoughts drifting to the events that had brought her here.
She had been silently escorted to the makeshift medical office in the imposing manor. The soldier walking with her, showing her the way had remained pretty silent. Not rude at all, just seemingly unsure of what to say. It hadn't bothered her. She didn't even get a name from him but she was still shocked, still too numb to really want to engage in idle chit chat or niceties.
They'd lost Frank. They'd lost him as they were rescued. It was painful, unfair.
Poor Hannah.
The soldiers had separated them almost immediately upon arrival, telling them they would be escorting them from the truck one by one with the assurance they would see each other soon. They had to be checked out, it was just a routine medical check but procedure dictated it had to be individually.
It had been strange to hear that word. Procedure. The world had fallen apart but here, it seemed the military cog continued to turn, to tick and to work.
Salvation.
Elizabeth had been helped down from the truck first, led away by a stoic soldier. The others waited for instructions, patiently, tiredly but when Elizabeth had moved a distance away, Hannah had started crying, clutching onto Selena with a vice like grip. Seeing Elizabeth away from the group made the young girl realize she absolutely didn't want to be away from them, that she couldn't be away from them.
Hannah's sudden outpouring of grief, of desperate wails and panic had stunned the soldiers. They had looked between one another, not sure of what to do. She'd been so quiet just moments before.
"She's just lost her Dad-"Elizabeth had told the soldier walking with her, both of them coming to a stop to watch the scene behind them, "please don't seper-"
"Selena!" Hannah sobbed loudly, the desperation in her voice shocking Elizabeth into silence. Elizabeth could see Selena cuddling the cowering girl, whispering into her ear.
"She's just a kid-" Jim had protested softly - so softly that Elizabeth had barely heard him - and imploringly to the three soldiers grouped around them, who still seemed unsure of what to do or how to proceed.
"Alright, alright-" a soldier had said, taken aback by the sudden onslaught of tears from the previously stoic girl, "it's OK-"
The soldier beside Elizabeth had begun walking, jerking his head to indicate that she should come with him, "they'll look after her" he'd said and while Elizabeth wondered who he meant by "they" - the soldiers or her friends, she got the distinct feeling he didn't quite want to deal with the young girl's tears.
She'd followed him silently, casting another look back at the group as she went.
They walked together in silence, Hannah's cries becoming quieter and quieter as they moved out of sight.
The soldier's radio had crackled, "permission for two females to attend the medical check together-" Hannah's sobs and wails had been clear through the static of the radio.
A curt "permission granted" followed shortly after and that was that.
Elizabeth had folded her arms as she walked, hugging herself. The soldier had been right, Hannah had been taken care of.
The soldier didn't speak with her and likewise she still hadn't felt compelled to strike up conversation. She was thinking about Frank. They'd made it to safety, followed the plan he'd so passionately fought for..and he'd died just before rescue.
God, it was painful.
Lost in her thoughts, Elizabeth had started when they reached a grand and imposing manor house. She hadn't paid any attention, walking almost trance like. She felt like the house had suddenly appeared. It was incredibly beautiful from the outside and though the lawn currently held an array of barbed wire fences, warning signs and blockades, she'd noticed the grass was growing unevenly in two different colors. The previous owners must have had one of those high maintenance striped lawns. The soldier didn't lead her through the grand main entrance, rather, he led her past heavily armored walls and down into a lower area of the house. It was cool and somewhat tired, with chipped, painted walls and bare stone floors. She'd assumed, dimly, that it would have been a service area for staff once upon a time.
It turned out the soldier had escorted her straight to a medical office. It was one floor above the basement, one floor below ground - or that's what she had been told, anyway. If she'd been in her right mind, if she had been present and paying attention, she would have been disoriented by the layout. But, distracted as she was, all she really knew was that it was a windowless and also charmless space. She couldn't guess what the area had been used for in times past.
There were two beds, lots of medical equipment and every cupboard had a lock on it. The soldier who brought her told her, speaking for the first time, that this was pretty much the entirety of a medical tent they'd taken. As soon as he'd stepped into the room, he'd become more comfortable in himself, more eager to chat. He'd taken off his helmet, stored his gun. He'd helped her wash her hands thoroughly, almost painfully scrubbing the nails with a nail brush all the while fishing for details on her life - her name, where she was originally from.
Brightly, he'd told her that he was originally from Brighton but had moved - and stayed - up North for training. He'd told her his father had planned for him to be a doctor and had "lost his shit" when he chose to join the army and "lost his shit again" when he'd trained to be an army medic. He'd handed her a sterile and thin medical gown as well as gloves and a pair of scissors and told her to change behind a screen in the corner, going into very specific detail on how she was to take off and store her clothes. Gloves on, cut the sleeves, cut from the neck to the hem and let her shirt slip off. Same for her trousers.
"Doesn't it have to be fresh blood? A fresh bite? I-" she had paused in her question, speaking from behind the curtains, letting the trousers slip down to her ankles. She'd stepped out from the carefully, looking at her body in the cracked mirror leaning against the wall. Bruises, dirt but no cuts or injuries. Hadn't Frank had been infected from the blood of an infected corpse?...clearly the blood didn't need to be fresh..but was stained fabric really a threat?
"Want to take the chance, do you?" he'd replied, his voice holding amusement. She could hear him tinkering from somewhere in the room.
He was right. She didn't want to take the chance.
She'd put her clothes in a bright yellow bag, sealing it and seeing the bio-hazard symbols as she did.
"Did they do all this, you know" she had asked through the curtain, securing the gown tightly, "when things hadn't...-"
"Gone to total fuckery?" he'd supplied.
"Yeah"
She'd stepped out from behind the screen, leaving the bag as she'd been told to. He'd left her a clean pair of socks and she'd slipped them on.
He had directed her to sit on a stool in front of a busy desk and he'd sat directly in front of her, small flashlight in hand, "they had quarantines set up in hospitals and shit but what good's burning clothes when infected patients aren't secured? Like, yeah they dumped bloody clothes and stuff in the biohazard bins 'cause it's standard procedure but...yeah. Dunno, it all fell to shit pretty fast, eh? Good thing I wasn't a doctor, they were the first to die"
He'd shrugged, his words having little affect on him. Obviously talk of infected and death didn't bother him much anymore. He'd told her he was going to check her eyes.
She had't been entirely comfortable answering some of his more invasive questions, or letting him check her over...he wasn't a doctor, after all, but he'd told her sincerely that he'd done his training and was a qualified nurse. He was due to to continue his medical training before infection had hit. He'd laughed a little, "God, my old man hated that. Said nursing was for women..." and she'd allowed the check without protest.
Eye check, blood pressure, heartbeat and lungs.
It had almost felt like a regular trip to see her GP.
Anyway, as far as checks went it wasn't particularly invasive and he'd kept the idle chatter up. He clearly felt comfortable in the medical office. She could barely imagine that he'd escorted her here in total silence.
He'd given her some injections, some immunization boosters and told her he'd give her one dose of antibiotics, too, just as a precautionary measure. He added to her that it was best to use them now - they had finite expiration dates. All the medicine did.
When the check was over, he'd given her a blanket and showed her to a small enclosed garden. It was some kind of sun trap, maybe designed for drying rags and cloth back when this area of the house was used by the help. There was ivy clawing its way up two of the brick walls. There was a table and chair and not much else.
He'd given her a clipboard and pen and asked her to jot down her information, her medical history and anything that she could remember that would be of use. He left her alone. She'd sat on the chilly metal seat and glanced down the page before her - name, age, height, weight, blood type and a list of diseases to be circled if she'd ever had them. She filled everything out to the best of her ability. No diabetes, no high blood pressure, she'd never had surgery...
With a sigh, she'd clipped the pen to the board and placed it down on the table. It had felt strange, strange to be writing her health history. She'd been so sure those days of medical care were long gone.
With a brief apology, the soldier returned. He'd popped a coffee down on the metal table, scooping up her completed form on his way up. He had given it a cursory glance, nodding as he went over the information.
Elizabeth had simply blinked down at the coffee. She wasn't sure where he'd gone to prepare it but the gesture was a kind one.
He'd put the clipboard under his arm explained that the other soldiers were busy and she couldn't be left unattended in the manor, not yet, so she was to wait there until someone could come and get her.
He still had to check the others.
She'd asked him for his name, feeling bad that throughout the whole check, their whole meeting she'd not asked it.
"Beford" he'd told her easily "shouldn't be a long wait, OK?"
And with that, he'd closed and locked the door, leaving her once more to her thoughts.