After Dark

Chapter Three

"Jesus Christ and his fucking mother, you're alive! We thought you'd be dead for sure," Gloria laughed in disbelief as she reached down to grip my hand and pull me to my feet, her dark eyes wide with shock. "Though, you couldn't tell from the looks of you, Blondie."

My eyes closed in reaction as Gloria placed her hand on my jaw, tilting my face towards the light as she studied me. The human touch, which was surprisingly gentle, was heavenly after so long without any interaction with another human being. The older woman's hand was warm against my skin, and my heart was pounding in my chest as her fingers caressed my cheek tenderly, like a mother would her child. I felt tears well up behind my closed eyelids, but I forced them back with a rapid blink as Mendoza let me go with a small tsking noise.

"Man, you look almost as bad as those fuckers outside the gate," Gloria sighed, gently grasping my arm and pulling me into the prison. She placed her shotgun by the door, on a rack loaded with guns and weaponry before leading me down the hallway. "I'll have the girls warm you up something, yeah? I think we have some leftovers from dinner, and you look like you need 'em more than the dogs; you all skin and bones, chicka."

The building was as cold and gloomy as I remembered, with the flickering fluorescent lights and the drab stone walls, but it was comforting nonetheless. I let the familiarity seep into my skin, and it was akin to taking a warm shower as I felt my tense muscles relax and my shoulders sag gratefully. I ran my hand lightly along the wall as we walked in the direction of the kitchen, memories flashing through my mind of the very first time I walked down this hallway, led by Morello, and followed by a group of orange wearing newbies. It was as if nothing had changed, and yet, everything was different; I was different. The building was the same, but the woman who had walked this path more than two years ago no longer existed.

She had died on the other side of the prison, knee deep in snow, with her knuckles broken and bloody.

I miss her, sometimes.

There were so many thoughts whirling around my brain, but I had not forgotten my quest, and the question that had been stirring in my mind for months was scratching behind my closed lips, begging to be answered. I took a deep, calming breath, glancing at the woman walking beside me as I tried to speak as nonchalantly as possible.

"Has there... I mean, has anyone else shown up?" I cringed at the break in my voice, and felt my heartbeat double its pace at the thoughtful frown on Mendoza's face.

"We've had people drifting in, y'know, trying to get away from all the shit out there," the older woman shrugged her shoulders. "But no one you would know, I don't think. You girls are the only ones that got out; they put on us lockdown for the first six months, which was fucking Hell, let me tell you. Some crazy shit went down, but it didn't take long for all the cops to disappear, and everyone just hung around after that, 'cause, well, there was no point in leaving no more, y'know?"

I felt my heart plummet into my stomach, burning and writhing in the acid as I was flooded with irrational anger and disappointment. I had been so sure that Alex would come here to look for me; I had never truly let myself consider the option that she wouldn't be here. I had never let myself consider it because I knew that I would have given up long ago, had I thought there was no light at the end of my dark, dark tunnel.

And if Alex wasn't here, then where the fuck was she?

Was she even alive?

Fuck.

I pushed that thought away firmly, unwilling and unable to even consider the possibility of a world without Alex Vause, even as a world as fucked up as this one. It just wasn't possible, not Alex, of all people, who knew how to take care of herself better than anyone I knew. Alex was a fucking survivor, and even without me there to guard her back, the thought of her being dead before she was old and grey was just inconceivable.

And even though Alex wasn't here, my journey hadn't been for nothing. There were still people here that I knew, and it was relatively safe, at least safer than the world outside the gates.

And Alex would show up, eventually, I knew she would and I would wait. I would wait my whole fucking life if I had to.

We passed a few people in the hallways as Gloria led me to the cafeteria, but so far, there was no one that I recognized. Most of the people I knew, and actually liked, had left with us when we escaped, and even fewer of them had survived. The first person I recognized, and was actually happy to see, was none other than Susanne, who was mopping the floors just outside the REC room, bobbing her head to a silent beat.

"Hey, crazy, your girlfriend's back," Gloria chuckled as we came up beside the oblivious woman, whose head snapped up in surprise at her words. Her always moving eyes landed on me, widening comically at my sudden appearance back in the prison and I couldn't help but smile.

"Hey, Susanne," I murmured as we passed her, giving a small wave in greeting.

"Hey Dandelion," she scooted after us for a few steps, her hands still wrapped around her mop. "You got some dirt on your nose. You been playing outside? It's dangerous out there."

"Something like that," I chuckled as we continued on to the cafeteria, where several girls were wiping down tables.

"Hey!" Gloria called to the women in the kitchen, who all turned around to stare at me with wide, disbelieving eyes the moment we entered the crowded space. I stood off to the side, watching curiously as the older woman strode into the room, taking control immediately. "We got any leftovers from dinner? I found a stray scratching at the front door."

"Hey, Chapman," one of the younger girls that stood closest to me spoke up, the one that had entered Litchfield the same day as I had, all those years ago. "Glad you made it."

"You too, Daya," I replied with a small smile, taking the tray that was handed to me, before sitting on a stool by the kitchen bench. "So, what's been going on around here, since I left?"

I barely heard the young Spanish woman as she begun to speak, as I was so busy shoveling food down my throat to really care. It had been days since I'd had anything to eat, and I had been living off bottled water and wrinkled apples for the past three weeks. Something she said though caught my attention and my head snapped up in surprise. "Wait, what did you just say?"

Daya threw me a bemused look as she wiped down the tray she was holding, but repeated her words. "I said the first few weeks were the craziest, y'know, with the cops all around the place and the guards running for the hills. The only ones that stayed were Caputo, John, Officer Fisher and O'Neil, but he got eaten by the end of the second week. And then I said I had my baby-"

"You were pregnant?" I had heard the rumor about Daya and the guard, Bennett, but I hadn't known that she was pregnant.

"Yeah," Daya was beaming with happiness and pride. "I got a daughter, her name's Lisa; my mom is looking after her at the moment, in the REC room."

I shook my head in wonder at this information, wondering how a child could be brought up in this world, especially in a place like this. I spared a brief thought for my godson and his parents, Polly and Pete, who I hoped were still in Australia with Pete's family, safe and sound. It had been over a year and a half since I'd last spoken to my best friend, not long after our hurried escape from Brazil and fuck, I missed her.

"Anyways, after everything really went to shit on the outside, all the cops left and we were pretty much left here to fend for our own, I guess. They didn't really care about us, and it wasn't as if we could make any trouble, not with zombies outside. We made some trips into the bigger cities and got some guns and shit, and we make weakly trips in the van for supplies, but it's getting harder, 'cause we keep having to go further out each time." Daya scanned the room for people listening before leaning closer to whisper in my ear. "Gloria thinks we're all going to have to leave soon, 'cause there's no more food for miles. She wants to take us to Florida or something."

"Not Florida." I said immediately, my voice firm and final as I stared down at my tray, feeling my appetite suddenly vanish. Florida was a mixture of memories for me, mostly memories of relief, but also of horror and heartbreak.

God, it had been years since I thought of Larry.

"Well, there's other places, y'know," Daya shrugged, completely oblivious to the turmoil inside my mind as I was flooded with memories of my ex fiancé and best friend. "We could go to LA, or Mexico, I don't know, anywhere that isn't here would be fine with me."

I nodded my head, though I was no longer listening, my thoughts a thousand miles away. I passed my tray to Daya, who took it with a smile, though it was somewhat concerned at the almost full tray, before pushing away from the bench and standing up.

"Finished, Chapman?" Mendoza asked, glancing at my tray with a raised eyebrow. "Okay, well, how about I show you to a bed, huh? We ain't got much space, but I think there was a spare bed in the Ghetto. Otherwise, we can always kick one of the newbies out."

I nodded my head in silent agreement, following the older woman from the kitchen and back into the prison's winding hallways. The path she led me on was a familiar one, and within minutes, we were striding into the Ghetto, where I had once shared a bunk with Miss Claudette and then, Taystee. Weirdly enough, it was outside that very cube that Mendoza stopped, gesturing to the bed in which I had slept on for almost four months, before our escape from this place.

You've got to be kidding me, I thought to myself, though I said a quiet thank you as I stepped into the small cubicle, eyeing the bed warily.

"Get some rest, chicka," Mendoza watched me from the entrance, with her arms crossed over her chest and a soft look in her eyes. "You look like you've been to Hell and back."

"That's not far from the truth," I murmured, giving the woman one last grateful smile before she nodded and strode away. I sighed as I slowly lay back on the bed, feeling tears well in my eyes at the simple pleasure of having a mattress beneath me for the first time in months. It had been the cold, cold ground, littered with rocks and debris for me, for the last half a year, since I barely stayed in the cities for long enough to pick up supplies before moving on. The only thing that would have made this moment better would be if I couldn't feel at least fifty pairs of eyes on me, from the other women in the B Dorm.

And the one thing that could make this moment perfect, would be a certain, dark haired, bespectacled ex drug dealer, lying by my side.

Where are you, Alex?