AN: Here we are, another chapter here. More to come, of course.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"Did I miss anything important?" Alice asked, walking into the clinic and putting down the weighty duffel bag she'd been carrying over her shoulder while she'd made rounds.
"I've set up two appointments for tomorrow," Carol said. "One is a 'might be pregnant' and the other is a checkup."
"Checkup something's wrong or checkup it's time for a checkup?" Alice asked.
"Just time," Carol said. "Also—mail and...a special delivery came."
Carol gathered up the bundle of mail that had been delivered to them—at least one thing was hand delivered to the clinic every day by the same person who seemed at least a little bit nervous that he was in a community filled to the brim with Wilds, even if he didn't realize that Carol, who he talked to daily, was one of the almost mythological creatures—and passed it over, along with the envelope that Carol had to sign for from the other delivery man, to the brunette who took it and carried it with her while she settled down in her chair and logged back into her computer.
Alice took her time getting around to picking through the pile, and the mail held little interest for Carol, so Carol started to empty out the duffel bag and take inventory of its contents so that she could refresh the items for the next time that Alice went out on her rounds.
"Fucking hell," Alice grumbled, catching Carol's attention.
"Something wrong?" Carol asked, turning her attention to the woman who was staring at an envelope like it might hold something like a court subpoena.
"Andrea's test results," Alice said. She sucked in a breath and let it out before she started to work her finger under the flap of the envelope. "That was the special delivery. Confidential so they at least have to have a signature."
"It's not too confidential when they left it with me," Carol said.
"I guess they figured it didn't matter," Alice said. "Not as long as they did their job. Shit—let's have a look."
Alice unfolded the paper and Carol watched her face. Her brows were drawn up tight as she read quickly across the page to find the information that most mattered to her. Carol knew the news, before she even asked, when she saw Alice sink back into her chair and she saw the muscles of her face relax.
"Good news?" Carol asked.
Alice laughed to herself.
"Baby Mamet got a clean bill of genetic health," Alice said. "Thank God."
Carol's stomach twisted. She could clearly identify the collision of the conflicting emotions inside of her. On the one hand, she was happy for Andrea and relieved. Soon Alice would strike out, no doubt, across the community to tell Andrea that her baby was healthy. On the other hand, though, Carol was concerned about her own test results that would probably be at least a little more delayed in arriving.
She put on the happiest face she could, though, and carefully moved to her chair to sit, not wanting to give away that her knees suddenly felt a little less trustworthy than they had only moments before.
"That's wonderful, right?" Carol asked. Her own voice sounded unnatural to her. She was attempting to sound excited, but it was coming out with a lot more nervousness than she'd hoped for.
"It's the best news we can get," Alice said. She sighed and put the envelope down on the table. "Milton already knows. He'll tell Andrea when he's ready."
"You don't have to?" Carol asked.
"Not with Andrea," Alice said. "Milton's got this whole thing he's got to do. This is Milton's area. Not mine."
"But with the rest of us?" Carol asked.
Alice nodded her head.
"With the rest of you," Alice confirmed. She sat back in her chair and rocked it with her foot. She stared at her computer screen, but Carol knew perfectly well that there was nothing there to see. Alice had only just logged in which meant that her screen would be green and it would display only an input box where it waited for her command of what it should show her. Still, she stared at the input box like it was the most intriguing thing she'd seen all day.
Carol watched Alice for a moment before she decided to speak. It wasn't her place to ask the questions that she did, but she still asked them. Alice didn't usually reproach her for her curiosity and the worst she might do was tell Carol that she couldn't divulge some information or that Carol should be careful asking too many questions if she thought about being so bold with anyone besides Alice.
"Alice—why were you so worried?" Carol asked.
"What?" Alice asked. She finally glanced away from the green screen that had been holding her attention.
"Why were you so worried?" Carol asked.
Alice shook her head.
"I don't want anything to be wrong," Alice said.
Carol nodded.
"I know that," Carol said. "But I also know that—you've got different levels of being worried. Why were you as worried as you were? Nobody wants anything to happen but—did you believe that something would be wrong with the baby?"
"I didn't know," Alice said. "I never know for sure. It's all a guessing game when it comes to creating new humans."
Carol nodded her head again. She swallowed. She'd been around Alice nearly every day for a while now. She was starting to feel like they were old friends. She was starting to feel like she actually knew the woman. She was almost certain that she could tell when Alice was lying to her. And if Alice wasn't lying, she at least wasn't telling the whole truth.
"You can tell me the truth," Carol offered. She gave Alice the best smile she could to encourage her. "I can—I can..." Carol broke off. She wasn't sure what she could do. Could she promise that she wouldn't tell anyone—except Daryl because Alice understood she would tell Daryl? Could she accept whatever Alice had to say? Could she handle it? She could promise Alice all of these things but they weren't promises that Carol could confidently say that she could carry out. Instead, she simply repeated her earlier words of encouragement. "You can tell me the truth. We're friends." She added.
Alice sucked in a breath and let it out with a sigh.
"I don't know if this is something you need to know," Alice said. "Or even that you want to know. I wish to hell that I didn't know it."
Carol's stomach churned, but she swallowed against the sensation in her throat.
"You can tell me," Carol repeated.
Alice nodded her head and picked at a pen that was lying near her computer. She fidgeted with the pen for a moment before she finally decided to start speaking.
"There is some suggestion that—if it's even a real thing—being wild could affect someone's DNA," Alice said.
"But we're not wild," Carol said. "We're just people. I'm no different than you are. The only difference between us, maybe, is that I was out there longer than you were."
Alice nodded her head.
"But there's some suggestion that being wild could be like—like the virus that makes the Dead walk. It could be a different manifestation of that virus. Maybe it even comes from having been out there longer and having had greater exposure to the Dead."
"Do you believe that?" Carol asked.
"It really doesn't matter what I believe," Alice responded.
"So if it's a virus, then they think it's—affecting the babies?" Carol asked.
"It could," Alice said. "We don't know. Hence the reason for the tests. The tests would, in theory, show if there was any sort of genetic abnormality caused by being wild. What I do know is that I've done extensive blood tests on every one of you. Now—you've all tested positive for the virus, which I knew you would, but nobody has shown anything else that couldn't be explained with further testing. So that means, if something did show up, it would mean that it belongs only to your offspring and not to you. It's something that happens in the next generation. It's nothing that's really been tested before, though. Not extensively. And there hasn't really been any population growth outside of the occasional baby to come out of the prisons. People these days? The ones outside of the prisons? They're not having babies."
"Because of that possibility?" Carol asked.
"Because of fear," Alice said. "Fear of that possibility is probably among their concerns."
"Does it matter?" Carol asked. Alice's expression told her that it did matter, but Carol did her best not to show that she was concerned. "What happens? I mean—if the babies are wild they're just—wild. Right?"
Alice's face sunk. She shook her head.
"Carol the government doesn't want more Wilds," Alice said. "The number of Wilds is already out of control in the popular opinion. That's the reason for—exterminating the Wilds. They want to bring the numbers down."
Carol understood, immediately and completely, what Alice was saying. Every part of her body understood it. She felt her pulse kick up, but she focused on her breathing and swallowed back her reaction.
"What happens to the wild babies, Alice?" Carol asked. Her voice was steadier than she expected it to be. "What happens—when they're born? If they're born wild?"
Alice shook her head. Carol's body responded to Alice's facial expression and Carol was pretty sure that she could feel a panic attack seizing her. She shook her head at the woman.
"What happens to them, Alice?" Carol asked again. "When they're born, what happens to them?"
"Nothing," Alice said. "Because—if they're wild? If the tests come back—positive? They won't be born, Carol. The government isn't going to allow it."
Carol shook her head. She could feel herself starting to choke now. She could feel the tears forming in her eyes that blurred her vision. She didn't want the emotions that were bubbling up inside of her, but they were coming whether she wanted them or not.
"You can't do that," Carol said.
"I don't have a choice," Alice said, leaving her chair.
Through blurred eyes, Carol saw Alice moving toward her and she tried to escape the woman, though her chair didn't allow her to go anywhere.
"You can't," Carol insisted, her words running away from her and escaping in a chain like they had a mind of their own. "You can't. You can't...you can't...you can't...they can't...you just—fucking can't! We're human beings!"
Alice wrapped herself around Carol despite the fact that Carol was pretty sure she struck out at the woman. Alice held her tight against her, though, dropping to her knees to make the task easier. The proximity of another person and the strength of her arms wrapped around her helped to calm Carol a little. Slowly she felt herself coming back. She felt herself calming a little. She heard Alice's apologies and her declarations of being left with no more choice in the matter than even Carol would have.
Slowly, despite herself, Carol could breathe again.
"Please," was the first word that she got out that felt like it came from the rational part of her mind. Suddenly, though, it was escaping her in a chain just as her words had before. But this time it was because it was the only word that expressed what Carol wanted to express. "Please. Please."
"I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd be upset," Alice said.
"Upset?" Carol asked, incredulous. "Upset? Alice...this isn't even—it doesn't even begin to—please, Alice!"
"Carol!" Alice barked loudly. She reached up and caught Carol's face in her hands. Carol jerked away, but Alice held her firmly. "Do NOT freak out until there's something to freak out about. We don't even know that this genetic abnormality exists!"
"But what if it does?" Carol yelled back at her.
"Then we will figure it out!" Alice said. "But ultimately? We'll do what we have to do. I don't have any choice. You don't have any choice. We're all just—pieces here. Pawns. We're just playing the game. That's what the hell we have to do. We have to play the fucking game! All of us do!"
"This game is my life," Carol said. "It's my life and it's Daryl's life and it's everyone else's life. This game? It's my children's' lives, Alice! It's not a fucking game!"
Alice stared at her and Carol felt oddly calm just from holding the woman's eyes with her own and seeing her for that moment, sitting on her knees on the floor, as completely human as Carol knew she was inside.
"Life is a game, Carol," Alice said. "It always has been. And the stakes have always been the same. Life or death. Some win. Some lose. In the end? Carol—we all lose. The only difference is that now we're made aware, every day, that we're playing and we're not in control of the game."
Carol swallowed.
"I don't want to lose my babies," Carol said. She shook her head. "I'm just starting to—feel them. I'm just starting to really know they're there. I'm just..."
"You're just starting to fall in love with them," Alice offered.
Carol nodded her head.
"Please," Carol said.
"Don't worry about it for now," Alice said. "There's nothing we can do anyway. Worrying isn't going to change it. Just—pray if you pray. Hope if you don't. It's going to work out, OK? One way or another."
"We just keep playing the game," Carol said.
Alice nodded her head.
"And we play like we know we can't lose," Alice said. "It's what we've got. We just play—like we know we can't lose."
