A/N: To my guest reviewer, some readers are hesitant to take on WIPs when the main characters aren't their favorites or the pairings aren't the norm for canon or fanon. I'm glad you're enjoying it!
July 26, 2010
~*~CP~*~
"Pissy does not even begin to describe her mood," Jacqui bites out, shooting an annoyed glare toward Lori Grimes as she brings Carol another box of canned goods. Henry and Ben finished installing the shelving units to modify the church bus brought into camp yesterday just an hour ago, so Carol and Jacqui had volunteered to move the supplies set aside for the original quarry group to the larger vehicle. All of the box trucks won't be going north, and the bus will make things easier to find as needed. The shelving units are still a wonder to Carol, little cages meant for secure storage from the restaurant supply warehouse. Although the wheels are locked in place now, she knows each shelf can be literally rolled down a ramp from the back door of the bus when they reach a safe haven.
"Is she still sitting there watching everyone else work?" Carol asks. Everyone else was up by seven and part of what T-Dog quipped was "Drill Sergeant" Patricia's chore roster. The older woman sorted everyone into tasks with an efficiency that is intimidating. Even Carl is working - and quite happy about it - alongside his father in packing emergency supply bags for each vehicle. The Dixon camp won't have to do a lot to be road ready by morning, but the quarry folk are playing catchup. Lori spent the first two hours sulking in her tent, while Carol and Jacqui sorted the unloaded food with an eye for loading the bus instead of helping them as assigned. When no sympathy came her way, the thin woman moved to a camp chair so everyone got to experience her disapproving expression.
"She was." Jacqui watches as Carol slides the cans onto the shelves and marks the new inventory tally carefully. "Rick was just stupid enough to try to intervene when Maggie just came over and told her that if she didn't put in some work hours on getting ready to leave, she was going to tie her to the bumper and make her walk."
"So, what's she doing now?"
"Laundry. Maggie decided her time is more useful elsewhere and at this point, I don't think anyone trusts Lori with anything more complicated. So, Maggie is helping me shift things out of the U-Haul trucks." Jacqui collapses the box as soon as Carol removes the last can, shoving the cardboard into an overhead net for reuse later if needed.
"Poor Tyreese." The big man didn't seem to mind being asked to head up laundry duty to get plenty of clothing clean before they were on the road, but that was when Maggie was his assigned partner along with Isabelle, Lizzie, and Billy.
They both take a minute to peek out the windows near the front that aren't darkened. Either because Maggie made a scene or she's decided her protest methods aren't effective, Lori is surprisingly working. Every line of her body radiates how angry she is as she pins clothing up on the lines while Billy works on another line. Tyreese and the girls are tumbling the three little washers, and the little tabletop clothes drier is humming along thanks to an extension cord run to one of the Dixon RVs. Carol is still sort of glad her duty is keeping her in the bus, even if it is hotter here than outside.
Maggie appears in the opening with a box, which she passes to Jacqui with a grin. The farm girl's enthusiasm is contagious, and both older women smile. "She's a bit of an idiot. I'd much rather be hauling and sorting food than hanging laundry, but it's her loss. I'll keep bringing boxes to the bus steps and let you pass things on to Carol."
"Sounds good. Are they done with the route planning yet?" Jacqui asks.
"Yeah, Scout and Merle rolled up the maps and said they'd go over those later. Merle took over welding on the med unit from Honey, so Honey is shadowing Jim as an extra set of hands on the final mechanical checks. Scout snagged her brother and they're loading up to refill the laundry water jugs so they don't keep emptying the water we're going to transport. She said she is going to send out two scout groups out to check out different route to 285 to see what the best route will be. I think they're looking at swinging out west of Marietta, maybe as far out as Powder Springs, before we go north."
"Guess that means they expect everything here to be done on time," Carol says.
"We're on track for it, yeah." Maggie disappears to fetch more boxes and ends up with a helper in the form of Jimmy on the way back. The boy looks really grateful to be toting boxes, so Carol assumes he's just glad to be out of Patricia's sight. She tends to oversee Jimmy more than any of the other youngsters, probably since she's known him half his life and feels responsible for him. He doesn't seem used to the mothering.
Having a human conveyor system of boxes makes the bus loading go faster than she expected after their sluggish start due to Lori not helping, and she's sweaty when she finally looks around at all the food. It looks like a paradise, compared to how they scrambled in the quarry camp on mostly what Glenn could carry in his regular trips to the city. While it seems like a lot, she knows that logically, with over fifty people, it's probably no more than a couple of months. She's glad that they have this surplus though. It seems a bit odd to modify a bus this close to the final destination, but she reminds herself that it isn't completely guaranteed the Dixon property is safe, or how long it may take to get there. Better to have three vehicles of well-organized, easily accessible food than having to dig through boxes in U-Hauls, plus she figures the buses can be converted to living quarters eventually, like that documentary she saw once.
"Here." Carol startles when Maggie passes her a water bottle and a scrap of cloth. The young woman smiles sheepishly. "You might want to cool off a little, plus rehydrate."
Since she did get dusty and sticky, she complies, using the dampened cloth to clean her face and hands at least. She's wearing clothing better suited for the work now, courtesy of half the female population on the Dixon camp side, who contributed various articles of clothing. It makes her feel a bit like a peacock, with her drab pastels replaced with the vivid or dark colors of the gifted clothing. But the sweet compliment Sophia gave her the first day she wore the red V-neck T-shirt and cargo pants chased away most of her lingering embarrassment. And she has to admit that the hiking boots Patricia found for her feel a hundred times better on her feet than the canvas shoes she wore before.
"Looks like lunch is corned beef hash," Maggie comments. "Donna snagged those giant cans from the restaurant supply warehouse we got yesterday plus some of carrots and potatoes to bulk it out. She said she figured everyone would be hungry after working all morning and not want to wait on food. It'll be the last hot lunch for a bit though. On the road, we usually stick to meal bars for lunch and breakfast. Patricia will have each vehicle stocked with a few days' worth of meal bars and water bottles, plus dried fruit and snacks. Those are meant for daily eating and snacking, while the emergency packs that Rick's group are setting up are for if you have to abandon the vehicle for some reason and go on foot."
That did explain Patricia's army of small folk counting items off into drawstring backpacks that seemed a little out of place to Carol with the emergency bags also being prepared. "Y'all have everything down to an artform," she comments.
Maggie laughs. "I've heard some of the stories of them struggling a bit early on, although I suspect a lot of that was being in a low population area without a lot of large supply stocks. It's part of why they're paranoid now, I think.
"Can't say I blame them. And at least we aren't spending a week eating mostly beans and squirrel this way," Jacqui says with a grin.
"Yep! And when we get settled, we're going to use the same system, but to bring food and supplies back to base. Daddy says we gotta collect all that we can now, while we have access to gasoline and the supplies themselves. With no more factory and transport system, we need the surplus for safety while we figure out how to do it all ourselves."
"But won't the food expire?" Carol asks, looking at the canned goods worriedly.
"Ever noticed that most food says 'best used by'? It's not really an expiration date, but a guarantee of how the food will taste. Some foods are risky past a certain point, according to Daddy. But he remembers when they didn't bother and says there's tests been done where decades old canned goods were still safe, even if they probably taste like crap. The ones we use up first are the pop top type cans, because the seal isn't as secure, plus anything with meat, citrus, or dairy. Once we're settled, we'll do our own canning too."
"Eventually, won't we run out of that sort of supply? Unless people can learn glassmaking?" Carol asks. "Because jars break over time."
Maggie grins. "I forget that not everyone knows about the treasure trove stashed in the back seats of the pickups."
"Canning supplies?" Jacqui looks puzzled. The truck back seats aren't that big, to have a real treasure trove.
"Nope. Freeze dryers. Commercial grade even. They found them in a place down in South Georgia and Donna made them clear out the lot. The trailer behind the other pickup is nothing but supplies for the dryers. Says she looked into them once, because she thought it would be easier than canning, and found out they cost too much. So, we can make that long-term freeze-dried food as long as we can maintain electricity of some type."
"Okay, that is a treasure trove then," Carol acknowledges. "But I did see canning supplies in yesterday's run, right?"
Maggie and Jacqui both nod, and the younger woman points to where a trailer hitch is being attached to T-Dog's church van. "They're going to load those up in a trailer though, since we're starting to run shy on drivers for the bigger vehicles. Although at least now, driving a U-Haul, you don't have to worry about other drivers cutting you off, but I can see where one of those pulling a trailer is scary. And I know Scout is getting really anxious about just how large the group is. I think if she thought it was safe, she'd take us north in smaller groups."
"Is it that dangerous out there?"
"It could be, and she's always thinking on the worst case scenario. Most of these vehicles are big and slow. We've modified everything we can to make them quieter, but without all the human noise we used to have, they're still noticeable. We're reasonably safe from a herd as long as we're moving, but human predators? That's a different story." Something dark moves across her normally cheerful expression, and Carol remembers that it was one of Hershel's daughters cornered by the group Scout had put down as rapists. "That's why there's always two per vehicle and preferred at least one can shoot. On the road's the time you'll see people with actual firearms too. You've both had lessons from Merle, so don't be surprised if you get issued one tonight."
Carol shivers a bit, wondering if she's up to their standards. She exchanges a look with Jacqui, who shrugs. Neither of them was prepared for this kind of life, but ironically, they're the ones adapting the fastest of the quarry camp women. She finishes off her water and looks over to where the laundry is ongoing. "Think Patricia will care if I go join the laundry brigade and save some of Tyreese's sanity?" she asks.
Maggie just laughs and waves her on, taking Jacqui with her to whatever task she's headed to next.
~*~SW~*~
Supper is a group affair for the first time, partly because word went around that Scout was going to hand out road assignments. Shane already knew what they would be, because she pulled him into the planning group that had usually primarily been just her and Jamie. They might be liberally including Tyreese, Hershel, Merle, and Patricia on the end of the road planning, but the on the road was chiefly the two experienced Marines' domain. He doesn't figure there will be many objections, so he stays relaxed as Scout gets to her feet with a composition book in hand after dishes are collected.
"Alright. Most of y'all are familiar with how we travel on the road, but since we are adding a large number of newbies, there's going to need to be a shuffle in our routine. For the newbies, on the road, we try to keep the number of tents set up to a minimum, both for convenience and safety. All the tents we use are six-person tents, and from what inventory I got from the quarry camp, we've got enough for three more that size in addition to our four. But as any of us who have stuffed five adults into one of these tents can attest, six person is a stretch on description."
There's some grumbles and laughter, especially from the four teenage boys who have been sharing a tent with Henry while in camp.
"All the smaller kids currently sleeping in our RVs will stay put. This includes the Morales kids, since Mika and Andy are fine to keep sharing a bunk." Scout continues, not detailing what she told Shane, that the toddler's nightmares were soothed in staying cuddled to one of the girls at night. "But since none of us are going to ask Abuelita or Abad to sleep on a tent pad, I'm evicting three of you lazy folk from the RVs."
Lilly grins at Sam. "I'll be happy to keep your girlfriend cozy for a while." The young man only laughs, cuddling Ana close. He's actually the only adult shifting out of the RVs, the other two being Sophia and Beth.
Scout looks toward Dale. "Your RV sleeps four or five. Andrea and Amy are willing to share a tent with Jim and Jacqui, so I'd like to keep the Grimes as a group to sleep in your RV. It'll keep with the policy that only the older teenagers are out in tents. That good with you three?" She turns her attention to Rick on watch atop Dale's RV with only a passing glance at Lori.
"Works for me," Rick answers and Dale agrees. Lori doesn't answer, but Shane thinks she might actually look a little relieved.
Scout hands out the assignments with practiced ease, with no one objecting but a few concerned expressions turn towards Carol when her tent assignment with Sophia includes Merle and his two youngest children, but the older woman doesn't seem to care.
"Now for the part that will take up most of our waking hours. Driving and passenger assignments. Every vehicle is assigned at least two people capable of driving it. If you get the shit shift on watch while we're on the road, make sure your driving partner drives first and get some extra sleep during the morning if you can. There are a few spare drivers in a pinch, but they're mostly spare because they aren't really qualified for the buses and RVs, especially the ones towing trailers. Keep your spot in line memorized and stick with it. We probably won't stay on the road for twelve full hours a day, but we'll aim for driving as many of the daylight hours as possible. Every vehicle has a map with various alternate routes marked to reach the town nearest the property. If you do get separated by some freak chance, make your way there. The rest of us will find you, and whatever you do, don't lose the damned radios. As long as that repeater stays up on the loft building, you should be able to contact the group or the property, but stay off the air if at all possible. So far, we seem to be the only one's using the ham frequencies we do, but we don't know that for sure. And the handhelds aren't as good over distance as the dash mounts."
She rattles off the vehicle assignments. Except for the Grimes family in the Peletier's old Cherokee and the two U-Hauls, the rest of the quarry camp vehicles each have a Dixon as passenger or driver. Shane ended up with Daryl as his driving buddy, after Scout teasingly started to pair him with Merle in driving the converted church bus. He feels a pang of sympathy for Carl, as the only child or teenager not in a vehicle with someone at least near his own age. But the only boy his age is Jazz, and Shane isn't about to suggest that Jazz ride with Lori as long as her poor attitude persists. With any luck, Rick will have pity on his son and let him join Jazz and Julie in Dale's RV at least part of the time.
"How will watch work on the road?" Andrea asks.
"We're going to do our best to be off the road by seven each night. That'll give us an hour of fading sunlight to set up camp and get a hot supper in us. We'll use disposable dishes on the road as much as possible so we conserve water use. We'll pull out around sunrise each morning, with everyone eating breakfast and lunch from their goodie bags you all may have seen the kids packing earlier for each vehicle. We'll keep a three person watch with four-hour shifts, just like here. Luckily, we're moving into areas familiar to several of us, so that'll make finding safe and suitable camps a little easier. You up for watch roster?"
"Of course," Andrea replies. "How long do you think it'll take?"
"It used to be less than a two-hour drive from Atlanta to our place without any serious traffic. Based on what the two scout groups reported back, we're hopeful for less than a week, but we're skirting well around Marietta because rural is safer with a caravan our size and after some of the herds in Macon and Atlanta, we don't think Marietta will be any better. We'll make our way back to 575 to continue going north. Based on what we saw in South Georgia, going away from Atlanta should be reasonably clear, with the real jams being on the southbound lanes."
"And if we hit a big jam?" Dale asks, looking worried.
"We've got non-freeway routes marked, but they'll be slower, more likely to be in areas where the bigger vehicles can't maneuver as easily, and with less visual range. The freeway is risky, but it also provides a clear line of sight by its very nature when you're outside the bigger cities. Biggest city we plan on actually going through is Canton, though. Had about twenty thousand folks before. Right now, we aren't going to concentrate on gathering supplies so much as getting everyone to a safe, hopefully permanent location. Take note of anything you see as we travel and we'll send supply runners back at a later date."
Jamie speaks up to add to her instructions. "That said, if we are stuck at a jam that is easier to remove cars than go around, you'll see teams clear cars and siphon gas, as well as kill off any dead trapped in the vehicles. We try not to leave them behind in case we have to work past the jam again on a supply run. If you see living survivors while we're on the move, radio it in so we can assess if it is safe to stop and help or not. We'll also clear any houses or stores in the areas we camp each night. That's my area of command when we travel, so if you went on a supply run here and want to help out one of those teams, just let me know."
"Bathing will be baby wipe only and everyone should wear their outer clothing at least twice unless you absolutely have to change. If you don't have enough clean underclothing to last at least a week, see Patricia for some spares, especially socks. Change your socks every day. If something derails our plans and we're going to be on the road longer than planned, we'll find a safe campsite for a couple of days to rest and clean up. And never fear, while we won't stop for lunch, we do opt for regular breaks to allow for bathroom breaks and driver changes. One of the reasons we try to keep the children on the RVs is so they have easy bathroom access. Big group like this is vulnerable because we can't move fast, so our entire goal once we pull out is to get the kids and supplies safe as fast as possible, even if we all end up smelling like the Swamp Thing by the time we arrive."
Scout's comparison draws a lot of laughter. Shane hopes his people from the quarry can adapt to life on the road, but hopefully, with an end in sight, they'll be able to. At least it won't be for months, like the ones who started in Florida endured so far. He's tired from the lack of sleep last night due to Ed's idiocy. He's considering a nap when he sees Rick's signal, so instead, gets reluctantly to his feet to go climb the RV to join his partner.
"Do I have you to thank for my driving and sleeping assignments?" the other deputy jokes.
"Maybe. I figured Lori might make a fuss if she was separated from you or Carl, and she can't drive any of the bigger vehicles. But if Carl gets really antsy, you could pass him off to ride a bit with one of the others, or see if Carol will loan you Sophia for a bit. Kid's in a sucky age range for the group. Most of the boys are way older or younger."
"Well, thankfully he's got that box from the comic book store that Cricket gave him, so maybe that'll keep him occupied. Noticed that the Dixons are all spread out though."
"Yeah. Maps and radios are one thing, but if the group gets split up somehow, the odds are better if there's someone who actually lives in the area. Hopefully, it's a paranoid precaution we won't need. Scout and Jamie say finding the property without a guide is damn near impossible. Nearest town is Conns Creek**. Not too far north of Canton, just off the freeway enough you can't actually see the town til you're in it." As deputies, they probably knew their state's geography better than the average Georgian, but even so, towns as small as Conns Creek didn't always make the radar. "Merle says they had about 1,500 people last census."
"I'm still surprised they had a police department. Town that small, usually they just let the county oversee things."
"They sure did back home, but I guess they prided themselves on public safety. Had three officers, one for each shift, plus their chief."
"You said the other night they don't think any of them made it?"
"Only one unconfirmed as dead is the one guy who went to find his sister's family. Merle opened the property to all the local force. Apparently, his older kids went to school with the chief's youngest kids in the county school system."
"Smart move really. If everything's going to hell, having the local law survive and feel their family is safe increases everyone's chances."
"Would've been nice if King County had had some sort of backup plan. But all those drills we did were about terrorist attacks, not plagues, cannibals, and the damned government turning on us," Shane grumbles.
"Can't say I'm unhappy that you didn't stick around. Things were pretty desolate down there, and at least here you had backup and access to more supplies. Can't imagine it taking long to stockpile everything in King County."
"Yeah, and further to travel to get supplies elsewhere."
"With any luck, it won't take more than a week to get there. I'm hoping Lori's mood will improve by then. Right now, she seems insistent that we're taking her to some hillbilly compound and Carl's going to be raised into some wild outlaw. I don't think I ever really paid attention to the level of prejudice she can cook up for herself."
"Easy enough to hide when your life is the PTA where most of the others are from similar nice families that can afford to be on a single income," Shane says softly. The Grimes family didn't live as your average single income cop family did. Rick's father invested wisely, so when he'd died within a year of his wife losing her battle with cancer three years ago, Rick was able to purchase the nice house Lori always wanted. None of the other deputies lived anywhere nearly as nice. Even the sheriff's place was a ramshackle old farmhouse on a couple acres outside town. Scout wasn't the first person to apply the word 'uppity' to Lori. It was a favorite of Shane's Grandma Jean up until her death last year too. "I was a little surprised when she didn't make you relocate to a bigger town when your dad passed."
"She never even asked. I think she had her heart set on that neighborhood we bought the house in since her teens." Rick falls silent, looking morose.
"Maybe once we get there, she'll see it's better than sitting in a campground. We may not have all the modern conveniences when we get there, but running water sounds damned perfect."
"No kidding. I was never fond of camping. Shit. I still haven't been able contact my friend who helped me when I first woke up. He's got the other police radio; said he was going to come to Atlanta eventually."
"Well, we can ask to have King County put on a supply run once everyone's settled. Me, you, couple of the others. We can test out the hospital, see if there's goodies left behind. Medical supplies are gonna be worth their weight in gold, so I'll bet going to a known location, Scout'll be open to it. We even thought about it when we were worried about the diabetic girl, til we found that stash at Emory, since you said there was still some electric running."
"Still might be a good idea to clear it out, if we can. You really think she'd send a team that far?"
Shane laughed. "Brother, you haven't seen the plans they got laid out yet. I'm pretty sure they're intent on cleaning out every location in a hundred-mile radius if they can, including prisons."
"Even if they have inmates?"
"Way I figure it; inmates have either starved to death in their cells or got turned loose by guards if any of them had a problem with the starvation part. Lot of supplies in installations like that, and ones that the folks stalking the military depots won't really think about, least not right away. And if there are any survivors, guess we take that case by case."
"Yeah, not all of them are beyond redemption. Can't see Scout aiming on rescuing any murderers or rapists though. Was worried when she said she left the invitation open for the Vatos."
"I don't think any of the ones who are willing to stick around the city to help out a bunch of old people are the gangbangers we wouldn't want around. Think most of them are like Miguel. Didn't have much other choice about joining up."
"Wonder if there's a way we can really transport the other old people."
"Might be. Can put our heads together about it once we've got all the vulnerable ones we've already got safe. G and Felipe have enough supplies to hold out for at least a couple of months now, and they'll be drawing less attention by being out in the city too. And those two are good men. Coulda walked away at any time and they didn't and still won't. We left them with a good radio setup, and G seems to understand how it works, so they won't be as isolated as they could be either. Safer too, now, that they know you can turn without a bite."
"Can't say I'd want to imagine the fate of that place if just one person died in their sleep and they didn't know." Rick shudders.
"Be a damned nightmare for sure."
They both fall silent as Scout approaches. "Either or both of y'all want to go along to pick up the four Vatos we're taking along?" she asks as soon as she's in range. "Can send someone over to cover your watch if you want to go, Rick."
Shane watches his partner consider what can only be an olive branch. He knows the trip down to pick up Miguel, Robyn, and the two elderly is something Scout considers an easy run, but she's obviously being careful with vulnerable ones on the move. Rick nods, and Scout whistles, motioning toward her group. Henry heads their way at her signal, waiting patiently for the two former deputies to make it to the ground before taking Rick's place.
She's borrowing T-Dog's church van for this trip, since it's the only smaller vehicle with enough passenger room. He's surprised when Jazz, Jamie, and Hershel join them. He hasn't seen the vet go out on a single run since they've been there, but he's geared up and looks comfortable enough with an air rifle like Shane's. Everyone checks over their gear as if they intend to be out for hours instead of two or three. With a pause for Rick to give Carl permission to go hang out with the older boys despite Lori's angry glare, they load up and head out.
As he catches Rick's gaze in the rearview mirror, Shane smiles. It feels far more like it should now, having his partner along.
~*~SW~*~
Shane curses himself for getting too comfortable due to the easy runs they've had. He and Scout had visited the Vatos twice more to drop off supplies after that first day, so by this fourth visit, he's welcomed by many of the residents. Even the Vatos have stopped giving him wary looks, especially after he's spent time among the ladies flirting in Spanish. Jazz is sweetly welcomed, although he blushes his way through soft-spoken Spanish at the elderly women's brash flirting. It's also why they're nowhere near the others when the shooting starts.
He disregards his air rifle immediately, tapping Jazz's wrist. "Glock, not the rifle," he orders the boy. The corridors are too narrow for a long-range weapon to be safe. Wide-eyed, Jazz pushes his own air rifle to his back and unholsters a gun eerily similar to Shane's own. Shane's throat radio activates and he knows that Jazz hears the same order he does. Protect the elderly.
"Maria? Is there somewhere safe?" Shane asks.
The leader of the group nods, motioning toward a door at the back of the big room they're currently in. "Music room," she explains, hurrying those barely mobile toward it with all the skill of a bossy grandmother. Mr. Gilbert surprises Shane by managing to wobble along. Two of the more stable ladies push wheelchairs. Shane finds himself grateful Felipe has been returning some of the folks to individual rooms to rest.
Gunfire and screaming are ongoing down the corridor he knows leads out to the courtyard he and Scout exited through the one day they were on foot. Scout, Rick, Hershel, and Jamie were all in the garage, loading up personal belongings and the four refugees going with them. Shane and Jazz had lingered behind, entertaining the women.
The elderly are jammed into the music room now, but Shane is wary of lowering his gun to block the door, so he orders Jazz to drag one of the couches over. He considered making the boy join them, but he doesn't think he would leave Shane as sole guard. But he follows the order to crouch beyond the couch, half hidden. His hands are steady where he watches the corridor the noise is coming from.
"Where's my sister?" he says finally, the first words he's spoken.
"Securing the garage probably," Shane suggests. No one has come from that direction, and the radio's gone silent since that single three-word order. "Maybe outside, coming on whoever this is from behind."
"Yeah, she'd do that." The quiet confidence in Jazz' voice reminds him that the teenager has been on the road a long time at his sister's side.
Nothing more is said, because then there are strangers emerging from the corridor, white men as opposite from the Vatos as it's possible to be. Shane doesn't hesitate, but fires, taking out two before they even realize he and Jazz are there. He hears the report of Jazz's Glock as well as the boy covers him. One intruder screams, rolling back into the hallway and out of Shane's range of sight, but he doesn't break away from guarding the door. As long as he and Jazz are here, no one can easily access the other corridors, either to the garage or down into the nursing home residential area. He prays there was only one group and only at the courtyard.
More gunfire erupts outside, further away than the first round. The street maybe? He wonders how many intruders there are. He shot three, and he thinks Jazz got at least two. Without knowing how many Vatos were guarding the courtyard entrance, he wonders if he and Jazz are the only defenders left this side of the nursing home.
Felipe slips into view from the residential corridor. The big gun he holds confidently clashes with the pastel scrubs he's wearing. He meets Shane's eyes and fades back at his signal, edging behind a wall in case anyone does come from the direction of the garage.
Another rush of men into sight, three this time. Shane fires. He hears Jazz make a pained sound as the last one drops to the floor and looks over to see the boy looking pale, gun laid down on the couch arm and his free hand clasped around his bicep. Blood seeps around his fingers and Shane feels incandescent with rage that he's been wounded. Felipe notices and starts to venture out, but stops when Shane motions for him to cover them. He's closer to Jazz and already mostly exposed. Keeping an eye on the bodies near the corridor, he jerks open the red pouch on his vest one-handed and gropes for the pressure bandage he knows is behind the hard case of the small kit inside.
He has to holster his gun in order to cut away the torn sleeve to slide the bandage in place. It's in this moment that one of the men on the floor rolls and aims. He doesn't even realize Jazz has his gun again until the Glock fires at the same time Felipe also shoots. The bearded behemoth of a man on the floor doesn't move again.
There's movement in the corridor again, the sound of someone being punched or kicked, but then the throat radio activates.
"Just cleared our way back up from the courtyard. You got the rec room, Shane?" Scout asks.
It takes him a second try to find his voice. "Yeah. Me, Felipe, Jazz." Fuck what he has to say next. "Jazz' got a graze to the bicep."
She doesn't step into view yet and he has to wonder where she finds the strength for that type of professionalism, but remembers shooting the man who shot Rick before he ever dropped to try to stop the bleeding. "Hershel, garage still secure?"
"No intruders at all here," the veterinarian reports back.
"I'm sending Jamie and Rick back to you, Hershel. They'll guard that entrance. Bring the Vatos this way. Some of their guys are wounded. Gonna need you and Felipe both on that."
He can see her now as she's slipping into the rec room. Rick is between her and Jamie, carrying G with an arm slung over one shoulder. The man's other arm dangles useless, blood running from a shoulder wound. A wounded Vato Shane hasn't met brings up the rear. From the limp and blood on his thigh, he's been shot as well. They deposit G on one of the vacant couches, leaving him to Felipe's care. The nurse curses as he accepts the emergency kit off Scout's vest.
Jamie hasn't quite left the room when Scout calls out to him. "Call the camp. Tell them to load up for pull out and take full precautions for human intruders. We don't know how these assholes found the Vatos. They may know where we are too. Shoot any strangers approaching on sight, especially if they look like Hell's Angels wannabes."
The other Marine nods, following Rick out of the room at a jog. Scout reaches them, fingers reaching out to grip Jazz's unwounded arm and one of Shane's. She gives them both a squeeze. "You good for a few, little brother?" she asks softly.
He can tell Jazz is in pain, probably starting to tip into shock, but the teenager nods and allows himself to be gently directed toward the couch they are using to guard the music room. Shane calls out to the elderly inside. "Is everyone okay?"
"We are fine," a woman's voice calls back. "Mr. Gilbert needed his inhaler, but we got it to work."
"I need a bigger kit," Felipe calls out. Scout finally lets go of his arm after another squeeze, although Hershel's reached the room with his EMS kit now. He takes over G's treatment, pushing Felipe toward the half-conscious Vato slumped in a folding chair.
Scout makes sure her brother has his gun and turns to Shane. "Two more wounded Vatos back in the room by the courtyard. We'll need to cover those boys while they fetch them."
He nods as she directs the gang members who arrived with Hershel to follow. They accept her direction better than he would have expected, but then again, even those who live outside the law understand there are times where military training should lead.
The room off the courtyard is a mess of blood and gore. The Vatos who were on duty down here didn't go down easily. Shane counts at least four bodies inside the room that aren't Vatos. As the four young Hispanics lift their still moving compatriots and head back toward the rec room, Scout draws her knife out of her vest. He covers her with his Glock as she makes absolutely sure none of the invaders will rise to come at their back. The old, law-abiding part of him wonders if he should be disturbed she didn't check for life signs on any of them, but when he remembers Jazz's pale face and the blood on the boy's arm, he can't bring himself to care. The two Vatos down, she does check, and she's much gentler with ensuring they don't rise either.
Shane double checks that the door is bolted shut. "All this noise is going to draw walkers," he says, unnecessarily, perhaps, but she nods. "We gonna take them all with us?"
"I don't see that we have any choice," she replies, looking to him for backup of the decision.
He nods, reaching out to draw her to him for a brief press of bodies. "We'll figure it out. Better to maybe lose one or more to harder life on the road than to leave them here waiting to see if these guys have any friends."
As they head back down the hall, she repeats the process with the knife on the men that he and Jazz shot, until she reaches one that lets out pained "please!" before she thrusts the knife in place. He's surprised when she stops the movement, until she fumbles for a pocket on her pants and drags out zip ties like the ones he used on Ed. She restrains the guy at wrists and ankles.
"Drag him into the rec room, will you?" she asks.
The guy actually looks hopeful until Shane reaches down with a vicious grin and grabs his restrained wrists to drag him. He gives out a pained scream as his arms rotate and drag against the wound in his belly. He leaves the asshole bleeding far enough from any of the others that he shouldn't be any trouble and takes up guarding the corridor, just in case.
Hershel has the bleeding stopped on G, and Shane's amazed that the man is still conscious. But he's aware enough to see the man on the floor and realize the intent. The man smiles as viciously as Shane did.
Felipe's finished with one patient and moved on to another. Scout is with Jazz, speaking softly as she checks Shane's hurried bandaging. She kisses the boy on the forehead before going to help Felipe and Hershel. Shane feels a little helpless, just standing guard, until he meets Jazz' eyes from where the boy sits, Glock still in hand. He smiles reassuringly at the boy, who smiles back with more spirit than he'd expect through the ordeal. They'll stand guard while the others triage.