Rated "M" for language and suggestive themes.
Author Notes: Because I'm an absolute nut for zombie stories and zombie apocalypse settings, this is the start of a story based off of Zombies, Run!. The "Runner 5" storyline I will be depicting in the first several chapters will be different from the storyline developed in Zombies' Run!, but they will eventually converge into a storyline that Zombies, Run! fans will recognize.
Disclaimer: I do not own Zombies, Run!, nor do I own any of the original Zombies, Run! characters. The Zombies, Run! franchise is owned by Six to Start. The only characters I own, as of the end of Chapter 1, are Marissa "Mari" Rookstrum and Monique.
I was so tired, so bone-deep tired. My lungs and throat felt like they were on fire. It felt like my legs would give out at any minute. My vision was starting to blur at the edges, and I was getting dizzy. Still, I straightened and looked up at the man standing at the top of the gate.
He seemed to be evaluating me, but my best guess was he was looking me over for bites or scratches. When his gaze lifted away from me and started darting around the area, I breathed a small sigh of relief. Was I in?
"Did any follow you here?" The guard hollered down.
"No," I wheezed back, "I lost the chompers several miles back. Doubled back to make sure they wouldn't follow". I started dancing from foot to foot as I became aware of the pins and needles now starting to climb up my legs from running so hard. Damn, I was out of shape.
The guard looked down at me before scanning the scenery again, and then returned his attention to me. "We can't let anyone in. You could be carrying the disease on you. It's too much of a risk for us to take."
He brought up his hand with a dismissive look on his face, and the little bit of hope I had been hanging on to threatened to leave me. Frantically, I blurted out "I have medical supplies! And some food! Please, let me in! I have nowhere else to go!"
He regarded me for a few nerve-wracking moments, then asked "Are you infected?"
I shook my head. "No. No scratches or bites."
The guard brought a walkie talkie up to his mouth and spoke into it. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but after a moment, I heard air chatter and a response. It sounded garbled to me, but the guard smacked the butt of his rifle against the terrace and shouted "open the gates!"
Slowly, and noisily, the heavy metal doors beneath the guard swung open and I nearly cried. I was in! I shuffled forward as fast as I could and slipped inside. Four men heaved their weight against the doors and slammed them shut, then dropped four braces into place, sealing me in.
The second my brain registered that I was inside the walls, safe, my knees buckled and I landed flat on my ass. Two big fat tears of relief rolled down my cheeks. I made it, I actually made it. The fort was right where he said it would be.
Before my mind could stray to thoughts of him, the guard was at my side roughly trying to soothe me as he eased my arms out of my backpack straps and hauled me to my feet. "C'mon, let's get you inside." He dragged my arm across his shoulders and hauled me over to a three-story brick building.
As we entered the building, the smell of surgical steel and antiseptic tickled my nose. Medbay. He was taking me to their medical service. Was I injured? Crap, had I been bitten? Wouldn't I have known if I had been bitten?
The man seated me up on a gurney, and a short, plump African American woman bustled up to me and shooed the guard away. He gave me a kind smile before heading back out.
"Goodness dear, just look at you!"
I looked down at myself. I wasn't that bad. At least, I didn't think I was that bad. I was only missing the entire left leg of my jeans, and about most of my shirt… ok, I was probably a little bedraggled, some cuts here and there… ok, some pretty serious cuts here and there…
"You look like you've just been in a mess," The woman patted my knee still clothed in denim. I got a brief impression that she was the mother hen type. "My name is Monique, I help Doctor Myers here in the clinic. Let's get you cleaned up a bit.
"Where did these come from?" Monique poked at the long scratches that crisscrossed my bare thigh.
"Got stuck in some bramble bushes couple days ago." They weren't that bad, just some scratches.
"What about this?" She then traced a deep, scabbed-over, angry looking gash on my left arm. Geez, it didn't look that bad a couple days ago.
"Was running through a construction site as I was escaping the city, fell into a pit and sliced myself on some re-bar."
Monique pursed her lips and took my arm in both her hands. As her fingers gently probed, the scab split open and red-streaked puss poured out. I yelped as pain throbbed and tried to yank my arm back, but Monique had a freakishly strong grip. She grabbed a towel and cradled my arm in it.
"That's pretty bad dear. I need to get this cleaned up right now."
I cringed. Haven't I had enough to deal with in one day?
When Monique released my arm and looked at my face, she narrowed her eyes and grabbed a flashlight. Her free hand shot towards my face and grabbed my jaw, then she batted away my flailing arms and shined the light right in my eye. Gah! I tried to pull my face out of her grasp, but she just repeated the process with my other eye. "Seriously lady, I wil-"
"When did you get a concussion?" Monique snapped at me.
I instantly froze at the chastisement. Concussion? I suddenly also wanted to know when I got a concussion. It couldn't have been when I was running through the forest and fell down that cliff.
"Were you running with this concussion?"
I suspected my answer was not what she wanted to hear. "… yes?"
"Goodness gracious, dear! How you made it here at all is beyond me!"
At this point, it was beyond me too.
Monique gave me a sympathetic look, then grabbed me up in a bone-grinding hug. "Bless you, dear. Let's get you cleaned up and get you a warm bed to sleep in. What's your name?"
"… Marissa."
"Well Marissa," Monique reached over to a wheeled cart at her side and dragged it under my arm. A bowl of water, bar of soap and sponge, among other metal tools that looked like they would cause lots of pain and anguish, lay waiting and ready. "you'd better grit your teeth now, because you're not gonna like me too much after I'm done with this arm."
I cringed again. I'm pretty sure there was a whimper that escaped my lips as the soapy sponge descended on my injured arm.
"Oww…"
Monique turned to look at me, and I wanted to glower at her when I saw she was doing her best not to laugh at me. "Oh, you'll be fine dear, you're a tough little thing!"
Yea, well, even though I didn't die from Monique's treatment, she sure as hell made me wish I could've wrenched out of her grasp to hide in a corner. But, I now had a freshly cleaned arm all wrapped up in purple vetwrap and a dose of antibiotics currently making me feel sick. I'd always had a sensitive stomach when it came to antibiotics. Pile stress, hunger and exhaustion on top of that, and I was just about ready to start looking for the closest trash can or bathroom. You know, just so I would know.
After finishing with my injuries, Monique had ordered me to strip down to my underwear and checked me over for any chomper scratches or bites. She'd helped me clean off as much dirt and road grime as I could, then she'd slipped a sweatshirt over my head that just about swallowed me whole. She'd helped me rip off my right pant leg so I at least wouldn't look like a complete loser with only half my pants, handed me my bag minus the medical supplies she had confiscated, and promptly informed me that I needed to pack some weight on my bones or else everyone here wouldn't be able to tell me apart from the zombies.
When she ushered me out the door, I took that to mean she was gonna get me something to eat. I wasn't gonna complain. I was starving.
At the end of a hallway, Monique pushed open a swinging door, stuck her head in what looked to be a mess hall, and hollered "Hey Sam! Come here!"
While we waited for this person to make his way across the room, I turned to Monique and touched her arm. When she turned to look at me, I smiled graciously. "Listen, I want to thank you for helping me. I wouldn't have survived on my own out there. With the way things are these days, I know it's not easy letting a stranger into the fold, so thank you."
I dug down into the bottom of my bag and tore apart the false bottom I had sewn in, pulled out a locked steel box and held it out to Monique. "I met a man a couple months ago claiming he was from this place, Abel. When our home was overrun, he handed this over to me and told me to bring it here, told me the information inside was priceless."
She looked down at the box in my hands and had to stifle a gasp. I looked down. There were dried, bloody fingermarks on the outside edges, probably from when we had been attacked. I forced my eyes back up and desperately tried to smother the agonizing feelings threatening to bring me to my knees. If only we had known…
Monique reached out and took the box from me with a sheen of tears. Before she could open her mouth to say something to me, the swinging door opened to reveal a tall man with dark hair. He glanced briefly at Monique before locking his gaze on me. "Monique, you called me?"
She nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but the only thing that came out were several stuttering squeaks. After clearing her throat, she gestured towards me. "Sam, this is Marissa. Marissa, Sam."
"The new girl?" Sam asked, his eyes widening with curiosity.
"Yes," Monique replied, "the new girl. Get her something to eat and show her to a bunk. It looks like she's due for a solid night's sleep."
Sam grinned at me, and I saw something flash in his eyes. It looked like hope, but I wasn't positive. "Hi Marissa, welcome to Abel Township."