fandomismylife Ooh, yeah I'm having so much fun with Enid. Soon, too, Judith has her very first chapter all to herself, too!

Oliver could only see his own reflection inside the troopers' tinted visor. He kept his arms up. Eugene tried to explain that they were friendly, but they were each grabbed, searched, and then dragged away towards separate train freights.

With a hard shove to the back of his head, Oliver stumbled through a freight door. By the time he caught his footing and turned around, the door was slammed shut behind him with a heavy slot and clunk and he couldn't see anything through the darkness anymore, except the small holes of moonlight coming through the rusted away parts of the freight walls. He kicked the door, shouting to be let out, but hurt his sore leg and stopped, instead choosing to peer through a small erosion hole to see troopers moving about outside.

He saw Princess and Yumiko being detained in the train yard. Princess tried to grab for a trooper's knife, but was thrown to the ground. When Yumiko twisted her way out of one of the trooper's arms and tried to run and help, she was caught across the temple with the butt of a machine gun and hit the ground, unconscious.

"Yumiko!"

The troopers carried her somewhere Oliver couldn't see, and other troopers dragged Princess, kicking and screaming, out of sight as well. He could only listen as Princess shouted Spanish at them, locked away in another freight. He could hear Eugene, Quan, and Ezekiel calling each others' names. They called for Oliver. Oliver called back, confirming he was alright.

None of them could hear Yumiko at all.

Oliver stood back, trying to catch his breath. They'd taken his inhalers. He looked around but couldn't see anything at all in the freight's darkness. He tried to listen, to confirm he was alone.

He was...

The next morning, Oliver woke up, shivering and hugging his knees with his back against the cold freight wall. The sunrise cast sharp poles of light through the dust inside his train freight. He put his hand under one, hoping it would feel warm, but it didn't. The circle simply shone in his palm. He lifted his chin from his kneecaps. His neck cracked. He winced and rubbed his eyes.

He could hear Princess somewhere, muttering. He tried to call out to her. His voice cracked and made fog.

"Don't bother," said Ezekiel from another train freight, somewhere to Oliver's right. "We've been trying to get her attention for hours."

"And Yumi?"

"Still haven't heard from her," Quan answered, calling from Ezekiel's general direction in a freight further down, Oliver guessed. "Princess said something about her being taken away."

"Gentlemen, may I remind you all to please keep quiet?" Eugene said in a hiss. He sounded to be in the freight directly beside Oliver's. Oliver pressed his ear to the wall to hear him properly. "Our armoured chaperones are makin' frequent checks on these vicinities."

"I think Yumi's hurt bad," Oliver said. "We need to find a way to help her — ask one of the troopers, I don't know."

"Maybe they're helping her already," Eugene whispered. "It's not a good idea for us to try anything rash before we can properly assess the situation."

"Eugene. We're locked in train freights. Amassment tells me we're screwed enough as it is."

"Hey. This ain't my first rodeo being cinched in a shipping-ware-scenario similar to this."

"You do remember that the only reason you even survived Terminus was because Carol and I saved you, don't you?"

There was a pause. The others must not've been able to hear them properly, because no-one else chimed in on the conversation. Oliver could still hear Princess muttering. She seemed to be naming all the states in alphabetical order now. She knew Harrisburg, after all.

"Listen," Eugene said to Oliver, in a low, grave voice, "I spoke with Stephanie for many many weeks. Her good character is evident, which can't be an anomaly among her people. We'll see that once we clear whatever process is required here."

Oliver sighed anxiously. He and Eugene fell quiet when they heard a patrol of troopers passing by, their radios running perimeter reports.

"Our people back home need help," Eugene said, when the troopers' voices faded across the train yard. "We're in the middle of a fierce battle. If it hasn't concluded already, the need for significant aid is inevitable. We have to present ourselves as worthy of allegiance. There's no room for miscalculations."

"You're right. But we can't tell them about our people either," Oliver said. "Not yet. Not until we know we can trust them. We're travellers on the road. We were staying some place for a few days that had a working radio. We heard Stephanie's voice, and now we're looking for a safe place with her people, alright? Just us five… and, err, Princess."

"I will agree to that only if the others do, too."

"Fine..." Oliver clambered to his feet drearily, stiff from the cold, and weak after not eating or drinking in so long. He went to the side where Ezekiel was and relayed the message quietly. Ezekiel agreed and passed the message on to Quan, who, as far as he could tell, was able to get Princess to agree to the story, too, after a few minutes of coaxing her attention back to reality. They heard more troopers coming around, chatting amongst themselves. Another patrol, Oliver guessed, until one of them came to his freight door.

"Stand back!"

Oliver was still more tight chested than he was comfortable with. He shifted on his feet uneasily, coughing to open his chest a little. The trooper slid the freight door open. The outside light was so bright in comparison to the dark freight that Oliver had to cover his forehead with his amputation. It was cloudy outside. It took him several moments to realise another machine gun was being pointed at him.

The trooper entered the freight and jerked his head towards the exit.

"Come with me. Arms up. Move slowly."

Oliver did as he was told. He didn't ask where they were taking him —but Ezekiel, Quan, Eugene, and Princess did— as Oliver was moved past each of their freights. Their questions were ignored. Oliver kept his head down. He tried to listen for Yumiko, but heard nothing in the other freights.

He was marched through the train station and then out into the street, where he was escorted several blocks away to a disused gym. Inside seemed to be some kind of newly-set-up base for these people. The building looked only recently cleared, with a pile of burning walker bodies outside. There were more troopers guarding the place and milling about. Oliver didn't see much else of the gym because he was taken to a shower room. Mould was set deep into the tile grooves. All the curtains had rotted away, leaving just old, flimsy rag-pieces hanging from their hooks. A large barrel and a DIY plumbing system had been set up above one of the showers for use.

Two more troopers were here — one sitting at a table, and the other standing guard by the showers.

"Undress," said the trooper who had brought Oliver.

Oliver frowned.

The trooper didn't repeat himself, but placed a threatening hand on the hilt of his machine gun to communicate his reiteration. Oliver felt sweat prickle down his back. Casting uneasy glances at all three of them, he kicked off his shoes and pulled off his jacket, shirt, and pants. He only realised he was being expected to remove his underwear when the trooper gestured his head.

"Oh, come on..." Oliver asked — his voice caught before he could stop it.

The trooper didn't reply, just stood there in surly silence.

Oliver swore to himself. He pulled off his socks, his ankle brace, his vest, and lastly his boxers. He tried to cover his crotch with his hand but was told to put both of his arms above his head. He did, and shut his eyes; he thought it might be easier to be naked in front of strangers so long as he couldn't see them looking at him. Turned out, it wasn't. He could feel their eyes on him, even through those visors. It was difficult not to think back to those traumatic few days with the Claimers.

After several uncomfortable seconds, he was told to turn around.

He had to work hard to keep his hand from trembling.

After another few moments, he jumped at the sound of gushing water, and saw across the room a trooper working the shower rig. The pipes groaned and the barrel above the shower gave several violent shudders as it began to empty onto the floor through a make-shift shower-head. The first trooper, examining Oliver, told him to wash. Oliver did. The water was freezing. He was made to untie his hair and wash that, too. Eventually, he was allowed to step out of the water and redress into his clothes again, but he wasn't given a towel to dry off with. He didn't care. He just wanted his clothes back.

He sat again, shaking violently enough that his chair legs rattled.

The trooper who had brought him left, so that it was just Oliver and the two other troopers left. They both kept their heads set straight ahead of themselves. Through their visors, it was impossible to tell where their eyes were looking.

Then one of them removed their helmet, revealing a middle-aged white man with short, neat, brunette hair and stress lines along his forehead. He was clean shaven, and he kept his frown set hard across his face as he glared into Oliver's eyes.

Oliver glared back, water dripping off his fringe in odd shivery angles.

They sat in silence opposite each other for a long time. Minutes perhaps. Oliver wondered if he was being expected to speak first, but didn't take up the opportunity. At some point the trooper blinked. It was the first time he'd moved since he'd removed his helmet. He hadn't even shifted his eyes. Not even to glance at the other trooper. Oliver didn't mean to jump.

"What's your name?" the trooper said finally, in a stern voice.

"Oliver. What's yours?"

The trooper didn't answer.

Oliver stopped himself before he rolled his eyes. "My friend. She got hurt last night. Is she alright?"

"How old are you?"

Oliver watched him. He sat back against his chair. "Does it matter?"

"Yes. It does. Be specific, please."

"Well, what date is it?" Oliver asked, curious if they knew.

"September thirtieth, twenty-twenty-one."

Oliver felt his eyebrows uncrease. Today wasn't his birthday. These people were early by over a month.

"Twenty-five, apparently," he answered, feeling clever. He knew something about them at least: They may have looked organised, but they weren't organised enough to keep track of the date after this long. Perhaps these people were all bark and no real bite. He wondered if their machine guns were even loaded.

"Where are you from?"

Oliver didn't answer.

"Okay, fine. Where were you when The Sky Fell?"

"When... the what fell?"

The trooper glared in silence.

Oliver swallowed again, but steeled his nerve quickly. "South Carolina," he lied; it was the first place he could think of. Lorton was too close to Alexandria to risk even mentioning.

The trooper was quiet for a moment, then said, "Your friend is fine," and Oliver got this nasty feeling like he was being lied to, too. "What?" the trooper asked, reading him much too easily. "You don't believe me?"

"Can I see her?" Oliver asked.

"Tell me about her," the trooper said, cool and calm in that 'I'll-still-break-your-arm' kind of way. "Tell me about your friends. Start with the one you're worried about. What's her name?"

Oliver pushed his hair out of his face. Water pattered across the desk.

"And the others," the trooper added. "What are their names?"

"Can't you just ask them? I need to see her."

"Tell me why you're here."

"We're here to meet Stephanie, that's all."

"Don't bullshit me."

"You heard us, in the train yard. Right? We called out for her."

The trooper didn't deny it. "Where are you all from?"

"Look, we're not here to hurt you people," Oliver said. "You attacked us, remember?"

The trooper seemed to believe him. "For the benefit of all, and for all who seek solace at our gates. It's what we stand for. Your friend is being treated by our medic. Like I said, she's fine. You just need to answer my questions. I you don't, you'll regret it."

Oliver narrowed his eyes.

"Let us help you," the trooper said. "That's why you came, isn't it?"

Oliver watched him. He wondered if Stephanie knew about their situation with the Whisperers and had told this man. Or maybe one of the others had already mentioned it. Either way, he suddenly had a daunting feeling that he was wrong before. It wasn't these people who hadn't been organised enough to keep track of time. Maybe it was himself and his own group who had let themselves fall more than a month behind time. He felt more out of sync than he knew what to do with.

"I have a lot of paperwork to fill out today," the trooper said. "So if you please... where is your community from?"

"We don't have one. It's just us."

"That's not what Stephanie told us. So tell the truth. Where are the rest of your people?"

Oliver hesitated, and the hesitation must have been the final straw because then, without warning, the trooper stood up from his seat and sent the back of his fist through Oliver's cheek. Oliver span off his chair and slammed against the cold, wet floor, stunned.

"You should have answered our questions..."

He was yanked to his feet and escorted back to his freight. Eugene was taken out to the disused gym next. Oliver didn't want to risk being overheard by any eavesdropping troopers by talking to the others about his time away, so instead he spent the rest of the morning in silence nursing his cheek while the rest of his friends were taken away for questioning one by one.

He must've fallen asleep because the sunlight poles in his freight were coming down from the ceiling now, inclining a different way than they had when he'd woken up this morning, signalling the late afternoon.

"Eugene?"

No response.

"Princess?"

Nothing. Not even any of her mutterings. Quan and Ezekiel didn't respond either when Oliver yelled for them. He was alone. Not just in the freight but in the whole train yard, it seemed.

"Anyone!"

His heart was pounding. His chest wheezed. Suddenly his door slid open with a bang, causing him to jump up with his fist raised. A trooper came inside. Oliver knew it was useless to ask what was going on, or where his friends had been taken, and instead kept quiet as he was escorted outside. He thought he was going to be taken for more questioning. He suspected an interrogation this time though. Perhaps even some waterboarding. God only knew what they had done to all his friends. Only, when he was taken through the train station and out into the street, he was met by a horse-drawn carriage.

All five of his friends, Yumiko included, were sitting inside the carriage with dark sacks on over their heads.

Oliver's chest leaped. "Guys!"

Their heads twisted round in his direction, blind under the sacks and their voices muffled as they called out his name hopefully, before Oliver's vision, too, was cut off as another black pillowcase was thrust over his head.

Notes

Definitely happy I managed to post this on the exact day it's set. Was planning that for weeks. I'm just going to go with the assumption that most of this episode was in Princess' head. She didn't attack a guard in this fic, even if she did in the show? Idk. Just for the sake of this fic it was easier and made more sense to incorporate her informative scenes into Oliver's interrogation and leave it there. I'd like to go into her childhood trauma and ADHD and mental health in another way in the future, though, obviously.

As always,
Happy reading.