A/N: Here's Ch 2, hope you like it :)
The helicopter landed roughly, awaking the four survivors.
"What time is it?" Nick asked, still groggy. He stretched, pleased with the various cracks his spine made.
Rochelle sat up straight and massaged her stiff neck. "How long were we out?"
Coach groaned from somewhere in the darkness.
"Hard to tell with no windows," Nick grumbled.
Ellis stirred and tried to sit up. He yelped. "Are we there yet?" he asked, pain in his voice.
Rochelle stood up and stretched before carefully walking to the door that lead to the cockpit. She grabbed the handle but it wouldn't budge. She knocked lightly.
"Hello?" she called out.
Silence.
Nick gripped the wall and forced himself to his feet. He walked in the direction of Rochelle's voice until he found the door. He pounded fiercely with his fist.
"Anyone in there?" he called. "Open up!"
When there was no answer, the two backed away from the door, weapons raised.
Coach grabbed his Magnum and stood up. "Another infected pilot?" he asked.
Ellis grabbed his gun and forced himself into a sitting position. "We infected more people?" he asked, worried.
"No, Ellis, now stop with that shit!" Nick growled. He gripped his gun and kicked the door. It rattled but didn't open. No sound came from behind the door.
"Get ready," Coach said.
Nick kicked the door again. This time, the hinges gave out and the door clattered to the floor of the helicopter. Instinctively, the four tensed and had fingers ready at the trigger, waiting for what horror would jump out at them.
"It's empty..." Rochelle said, shocked.
Coach stepped forward and stuck his head in the doorway and looked around. "They're gone," he announced.
"Gone?" Ellis asked.
With a loud clang, the ramp behind the survivors lowered.
Nick, Rochelle and Coach spun around, weapons at the ready.
They were greeted by a line of military men, in full camouflage, all with fully automatic guns aimed at the four survivors. The one in front placed his finger on the trigger.
"Drop your weapons! NOW!" he yelled in a deep, gruff voice.
Nick, Rochelle and Coach looked down at their weapons and exchanged confused glances.
"I have authorization to use deadly force!" the gruff voiced man barked. "Now drop your weapons!"
Rochelle bent down and slowly set her Scar down. Coach and Ellis followed suit, dropping their Spas 12's. Nick glared at the men before him before dropping his AK-47.
The man in front motioned to the men behind him. "Get them."
Some of the men quickly seized the dropped the guns while the rest rushed into the helicopter.
"What the hell?" Nick yelled.
Two men grabbed Rochelle and pulled her out of sight before anyone could react.
"Let go of her!" Nick swung out and hit one of the military men in the mouth. Warm blood dripped down Nick's fist but he didn't notice nor care.
Coach was dragged past Nick. "Let go o' me! I can walk!" the older man cried.
More men entered the helicopter. They grabbed at Nick and Ellis as Coach was also dragged out of sight.
"Sir, you are resisting arrest." one of the soldiers said.
"Arrest for what? For surviving?" Nick spat. Two men grabbed his arms and forced them behind his back. Nick fought with all the strength he had but his previous injuries from the bridge were taking their toll. He felt something familiar and metal clasp around his wrist. Handcuffs.
A woman's scream sounded close by. The gruff voiced man was barking orders over the chaos.
Ellis was yanked from his place on the floor. He screamed in pain and tried to fight but his attempts were weak.
Another scream sounded, farther off this time.
Nick suddenly threw his weight against one of the soldiers holding him. The soldier hit the metal wall of the helicopter with a thud and slumped to the floor. The other soldier let go of Nick to help up his fallen comrade.
Nick turned to the last soldier in the helicopter. He held Ellis' arms behind his back. Ellis was pale and turning six different shades of green. He was badly injured and needed medical attention. He looked up at Nick with wide eyes.
"Nick!" Ellis cried.
There was the sound of metal hitting bone, extreme agony in the back of Nick's head and then nothing. Nick's eyes rolled back into his head before he crumpled to the floor.
The two soldiers that had held him before, grabbed Nick's arms and dragged his unconscious body out of the helicopter.
Panic seized Ellis and he began to flail. "Lemme go!" he cried. The pain in his chest was immense but none of that mattered, all that mattered was getting away from the soldiers.
"Knock it off, kid." the soldier holding his arms snapped. He lead the struggling Ellis out of the helicopter and into the bright light.
Ellis blinked against the harsh light of the sun. He felt dizzy and sick. The ground beneath his feet seemed to not exist.
Coach and Rochelle came into view. Men in camouflage surrounded them, guns raised. Rochelle gasped once she saw Nick and Ellis. Ellis tried to cry for help but his throat refused to make words.
The man behind Ellis threw him to the pavement as Rochelle screamed. As soon as he hit the pavement, he curled into a ball. His arms wrapped protectively around his broken chest, he waited for his vision to return. His eyes teared from the sudden impact with the ground and the tears ran down his face.
"Stop it!" Rochelle cried. She glared up at the men surrounding them. "He's hurt! He needs a doctor and needs it now!"
One of the men sighed deeply and looked down at the young man curled up in front of him. He turned to one of his comrades. "See if Dr. Sanchez is taking patients this early."
One of the smaller soldiers saluted him and ran off.
"He needs one too." Rochelle pointed to the conman next to Ellis.
One of the soldiers rubbed their shoulder and winced. "Yeah, we'll deal with him." he grumbled.
The small soldier and a middle aged man ran up.
"They say these two need medical attention." the gruff voiced soldier said.
The middle aged man bent down and quickly examined the two injured survivors. Rochelle took into note how he tried not to touch them anymore than what was necessary.
"Clean them all up and bring them to the med wing, I'll see what I can do." the doctor said.
He turned and walked away, wiping his hands on his pants.
The soldiers bent down and pulled Ellis and Nick up.
Ellis whimpered. His legs refused to support him.
"Stand up, kid," the soldier holding him up snapped.
Nick groaned from where he lay on the pavement. He opened his eyes and squinted against the light. He looked up and saw the camouflaged men and instantly began to kick and try to get to his feet.
"Nick, stop, they're trying to help," Rochelle said, her voice raised an octave as a gun was put against the fleshy underside of Nick's jaw.
"Bullshit," Nick muttered.
The four were led into a small building on the west side of the military base. Inside multiple shower stalls lined the walls. The tiling was a pale green that sickeningly resembled the Boomer vomit residue still clinging to the survivors' clothing.
A woman in a hazmat suit walked up pushing a hamper.
The soldiers released Coach, Rochelle and Ellis. The soldier holding the gun to Nick's throat pulled out a key ring and jingled the keys.
"If I let you go, will you promise to behave?" the soldier asked with a smirk.
"I'm not making any promises," Nick said smugly.
The handcuffs were removed from his wrists and he rubbed the red indents they had left behind.
The woman in the hazmat suit cleared her throat and motioned to the hamper beside her.
"Dirty clothes go in here, soap and shampoo is located in the showers. Towels and fresh clothing are behind you. You have ten minutes," she said in an icy voice that seemed to lack human emotion.
Rochelle looked at the men around her. She turned back to the woman. "We're just supposed to strip down right here? In front of everyone?" she asked uneasily.
"You're wasting time," was all the woman said.
Nick sighed and pulled off his coat. "Screw it, I want a hot shower," he muttered. He unbuttoned the blue shirt underneath and tossed both into the hamper.
Rochelle turned away as Coach and Ellis also began to undress.
"The hat too," Rochelle heard the woman snap.
Ellis sighed from behind Rochelle.
Water started to run from the showers. Rochelle peeked over her shoulder and saw her three companions were gone. She quickly undressed, feeling the military men's eyes on her back. A few snickered. She ignored them and stepped into the first stall she came to.
The water was hotter than she expected and she yelped.
"You alright?" she heard Ellis ask, worry thick in his voice.
"I'm fine, sweetie," she assured him. She went about her shower, watching as the water started clear and gradually grew pink and then a green/brown sludge. She shook out her hair, realizing how weighed down it had been from blood, gore and anything else they had come in contact with the past month or two.
Without warning, the water shut off.
"Time's up," the woman said.
Rochelle stepped out of the stall and grabbed a towel and wrapped herself up before joining the other three in the next room.
Coach was fully dressed in the silvery blue jogging pants and a black t-shirt that were provided. Ellis struggled to pull his t-shirt over his bruised shoulders and chest. Nick stood shirtless and tossed Rochelle identical pants and shirt.
The three men respectively averted their eyes as Rochelle quickly dressed.
Ellis leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
"Turn any greener and you'll match the wall," Nick said to him. The younger man opened his eyes and looked up at him, too tired to reply.
The door opened and the woman in the hazmat suit entered. "Please follow me," she said sternly.
They followed her out the door.
"Where's the rest of your buddies?" Nick asked the woman, taking notice of the absent soldiers.
Rochelle elbowed him. "Shut up," she muttered.
The building they entered was made of white brick, the interior was painted the same pukey green the showers had been. The halls were long and brightly lit. Thick, steel doors lined the halls, each with their own deadbolt and tiny prison window.
The woman led them to the end of the hall and guided them into a small hospital room. The room was green like the rest of the building, there was no window and the only thing occupying the room was a bed and a sink.
"Dr. Sanchez will be with you shortly," the woman said before slamming the door and locking it.
Nick yanked on the heavy door but it didn't budge.
"What the hell," Coach muttered and leaned against the wall.
"I thought this was 'safety', I'd rather be out with the zombies," Nick growled.
Ellis sat on the bed next to Rochelle. He looked down at his hands.
Rochelle put a hand on his trembling shoulder, swallowing her own fear.
"Why are they treating us like this?" Ellis asked no one in particular.
Nick tried the door again but got the same result as before. "I don't know but I'm getting out of here." He tried the door again, it didn't move.
"You know, they say that the definition of stupidity is trying the same thing over and over and expecting a different result," Rochelle said.
Nick glared at her. Without taking his eyes off her, he yanked on the door again. This time the door opened. Nick crashed to the floor, not prepared for the sudden movement.
The middle aged man from earlier walked in with a different woman in a hazmat suit.
"I'm Dr. Sanchez," he said, flipping through a clipboard. He grabbed the pen from behind his ear. "I'm gonna need your names and ages, please."
"Rochelle, 29"
"Coach, 44"
Nick got up from the floor and crossed his arms. "Nick, 35"
"Ellis, 23"
The doctor looked up at Ellis. "23?" his eyebrows raised. "I think that's the youngest we've gotten so far."
The woman grabbed something out of her pocket and walked over to Coach. She took the item and tied it around Coach's bicep. She then moved to Rochelle and Ellis.
"What are those?" Nick asked, suspiciously.
"Identification bands. We use them to identify a person's status. Blue is uninfected but prone to infection, yellow is immune, red is carrier, white is unidentified and black is infected and to be dealt with. They are to be kept on at all times, if you do not have a band on, you will be shot," Dr. Sanchez said. He scribbled a few notes on his clipboard.
Nick let the woman put the white band around his arm. He looked and saw the other three had white as well. The doctor had yellow and the woman had blue.
Dr. Sanchez set his clipboard down and pulled four needles out of his coat pocket. "Now I need to take blood samples for testing."
"Testing? What for?" Ellis asked.
"For the infection, there's a chance you are not immune but in fact carriers and carry the disease. Carriers are a major threat to the rest of the people here and so we must make sure all newcomers are immune," the doctor said.
Ellis paled and looked down.
Dr. Sanchez took a sample from each of the survivors. "We'll be back with your results shortly." He motioned for the woman to follow him. The door shut and was locked once again.
"Now what?" Nick asked.
"We wait," Coach said. Rochelle hopped up and let him take her spot on the bed.
Ellis fiddled with the white band around his arm. He sighed and gasped with the pain it caused. He felt dizzy and cold and knew it wasn't just from his injuries.
"You alright, young'n? You took quite an ass whoopin'" Coach said.
Ellis sighed and winced. "Not really," he admitted. "Everything hurts."
"Don't worry, sweetie, the doctor will take care of you," Rochelle said, she gave Ellis a small smile. Ellis nodded and tried to smile back.
Nick was examining the door.
"What you doing, Suit?" Coach asked in a warning tone.
Nick ran his fingers along the door frame. "There has to be a way to open this door," he muttered. "I have a feeling things are going to get worse."
"What are you talking about?" Rochelle asked.
Nick glared at her. "What I mean, sweetheart, is I have a feeling we're not going to like the results our blood tests will show and neither will CEDA, so we need to get out of here."
"You don't know that, Nick" Rochelle said.
Nick opened his mouth to argue when Coach interrupted.
"Let's just wait and see what them tests say first before we do anything stupid, alright?"
Nick sighed and sat in the corner.
The four sat in silence for what felt like hours when finally the door opened. The survivors became alert when they saw Dr. Sanchez walk in. He had four red bands in his hand.