Heading back into Atlanta feels wrong in many ways. Leading the children away from the walker infested city was the right thing to do, and now they're not only back, but in the city proper instead of lurking on the outskirts. He reminds himself the hospital will be far more secure than the sprawling quarry camp, and whatever area assigned to him, Carol, and the kids can be improved as soon as he's able.
Worse, he doesn't even have all of them in a single vehicle. In order to move their essentials, including the chicken flock, splitting up was necessary. Sophia and the boys are riding alongside him in the front seat of the pickup, while Carol drives the Cherokee with Beth riding shotgun. Both of them are pulling trailers, and they'd crammed the police cruiser as full as it would go.
"Did they say if there were other kids there?" Benjamin asks, looking curious as they navigate Atlanta's debris strewn streets.
"Yeah, Lamson said there were a couple of kids your age."
Mostly kids of early survivors, but a couple of orphans managed to find their way to Grady over time. The very idea of it makes Shane shudder to think how many kids didn't make it to a safe haven after losing their families. It doesn't bear consideration.
"That's cool. Maybe lessons will be nicer with more kids."
That makes Shane chuckle. The boys remain perturbed about Carol keeping up with their schoolwork, but they're not as rebellious as Carl would have been at their age. The idea of being allowed to rebell against Carol or Shane hasn't occurred to them yet after so many years of staying out of Ed's line of sight.
"Mama's a good teacher, Benjamin. And you need to learn your math and science." Sophia's caution is given in exasperated big sister tones. "It's even more important now, isn't it, Shane?"
"Yeah, kiddo, it really is. Maybe knowing about Shakespeare or Mark Twain isn't such a big deal anymore, but the rest is. Think about how much math we use when we were building the chicken coop."
"Or when we had to calculate what was safe for the babies in the incubator," Henry pipes up excitedly. "That was science, right? Too hot and the babies end up little chicken nuggets. Too cold and no babies at all."
The comparison of potentially overheated eggs makes Shane guffaw, and it cracks the other two kids up, too. At first, Henry isn't entirely sure what's so funny, but it clicks with him eventually and he giggles as well.
"Tell you what, Henry. First rooster we hatched that we keep, we're calling him Nugget as a reminder you figured out the right temperature to get him hatched, alright?"
Shane's offer lightens the mood, and they're all cheerful even as the police cruiser they're following slows to a stop. With the police radios Shane has installed in both truck and Cherokee, he can hear Lamson radioing in. It isn't entirely proof that Lamson didn't call ahead on a different channel. The fact he gave out the one the Grady cops are using helps Shane feel better about heading into a situation he knows isn't entirely safe and is potentially volatile.
There's no argument about Lamson bringing in a fellow cop and his family, and Shane files away the emphasis Lamson puts on making them related. It's a good angle, as random refugees might not be as welcomed as a fellow officer's family. He wishes the man said something beforehand, though. Carol's fast on the uptake, but the kids might fumble.
"Hey, kids? Once we get out of this car, you call me Dad, okay?"
It ought to take more than a simple request to get them to agree, but the twins exchange a look and nod in unison. Sophia just smiles, but she's old enough to make the connections on her own. There's something to her expression when she glances to the boys, though, and Shane resolves to ask her about it later.
For now, they're all exiting the vehicle in a parking lot heavily fenced on all sides. Three of the four officers waiting for them seem happy and excited. The fourth just looks perpetually pissed off. Shane knows the type and doesn't need Lamson to tell him this man is one of the problems that needs to be eliminated.
Carol's even faster to recognize the corrupt cop, because she's angled herself between Beth and the man. It's subtle, done in a way to make Beth seem shy, maybe younger than she is, and he somehow isn't surprised to see Beth is wearing one of the shapeless sweaters Carol favors over her button-up blouse. Shane has to resist the urge to put his own bulk between this asshole and Sophia in the same way. The man might not alert on Carol closely, not with her close shorn hair and nondescript clothing, but Shane wants a few more seconds to study his future opponent.
Shane gets the chance, while Carol shuffles the kids up in a huddle near him. Whichever this is of the two cops Lamson wants gone, O'Donnell or Gorman, it doesn't really matter. He's a bully, first and foremost, held in check in how he talks to Lamson only by still lingering training saying Lamson outranks him with those sergeant's stripes. The man isn't much different than Ed, other than he managed to get a badge to inflict his bastard nature on society as a whole, instead of confining it to wife and kids.
"We don't need more cops, especially no rural deputy who couldn't make the grade to work in Atlanta and stayed out in the country making his wife pop out kids."
That snide remark puts Shane on full alert, but Lamson goes cold in a way Shane doesn't expect before he remembers Lamson's father worked his entire career as a county deputy.
"I think you don't have enough standing here to be decided anything, Gorman. How many times did you get passed over for sergeant?"
Gorman turns damn near purple with frustrated rage, but he doesn't deny it. Considering he's at least Shane and Lamson's age, it is a little odd he's still a patrol officer in a city like Atlanta. He sends Shane a dark look before stalking off without being introduced directly.
"He'll run straight to the captain, you know," Shepherd grumbles, staring after the retreating Gorman as if she could make him drop dead with a glare.
"Let him. Captain started his career out in county, you know. Might get him assigned a few shit details to take him down a notch or two." Lamson eyes the other officers. "Any of you share that asshole's opinion?"
All three shake their head, looking like they'd rather be anywhere else but caught in a conflict between the older officers. Most look too young to be more than two or three years out of the academy, so Shane figures on letting it slide. They're followers, not leaders, and just not worth his time to worry about just yet.
"Are those... chickens?"
The astonishment in the youngest officer's voice makes Shane laugh and motion Henry forward with the box of active, peeping young chicks.
"Got a start on a good flock, if the captain can assign the kids a place to set up farming. Be a while before we should eat any of them, but one day, there will be fried chicken for lunch again."
"That sounds so much better than guinea pig." The name tag dubs the man as Jeffries.
"Guinea pig?" Carol sounds just a little too horrified for a lady who gladly ate squirrel and whatever else Daryl brought out of the woods.
"Yes, ma'am. Apparently, they're quite commonly eaten down in South America, so we cleared out a few pet stores and some of the wards have set up a little guinea pig farm. Same rules as your husband said, though. Can't eat them for a while, until there are a lot more of them."
Carol huffs softly. "Guess these days we can't be too picky where our meals come from. I wonder if they taste like chicken?"
"How about Shepherd shows Carol and the kids to your new quarters, Walsh?" Lamson asks, not hiding his smile at Carol's musing. "I'll take you to meet Hanson and make your job here official and all. You gonna object to giving up the county tan for city blue?"
"Don't see myself as particularly attached to the color of my uniform," Shane replies, turning to Carol. He doesn't like being separated from her and the kids before he's gotten the lay of the land here, but Shepherd's hardcore and determined to clean house here. She'll look after them. "You good with that plan?"
"We'll be fine. And maybe she can help us find some nice helpers to unload everything while you're busy." She slips her hand in his, squeezing briefly as she smiles up at him with that absently sweet look he's gotten used to being directed his way.
That draws the officers' attention to the laden trailers behind their vehicles, and Shane knows by their avid looks that they've won these guys' approval for their entrance just by showing up with enough supplies it would have fed all six of them for a month. It's a drop in the bucket to what Grady needs, but it's proof they know what's needed and how to get it, and they did it with four children attached.
Leaning in as if he's kissing her cheek, he whispers softly, "Don't let your guard down for a second, alright?"
"Not one damn second," Carol breathes out. Then louder, "I'll have everything all snug and homey before you've had time to blink."
Trusting she's probably as skilled at navigating sticky situations as he is, he squeezes her hand before releasing it. It presses her wedding band in contact with him, and he withholds a grimace at the though of her slipping a ring Ed gave her on for this charade. Maybe he'll find her something better out there, if she thinks folks are nonobservant enough to swap it out.
Far more reluctant than he expected to be, he follows Lamson off to see just how bad things really are here at Grady.
To her credit, Officer Shepherd doesn't leave Carol or the kids alone, other than about five minutes she spends inside the office of an uptight blonde female cop before emerging with keys. Shepherd tips her off quietly that Lerner absolutely loathes the idea of a cop with a family, warning her to keep her and the kids' heads low for a few days.
Shepherd doesn't tip off her fellow officers that Carol has multiple guns and hunting knives packed among the seemingly innocent household items. Carol doesn't figurer anyone but Shane will be allowed to carry openly once they got to the hospital, but she isn't giving up the weapons Shane chose specifically for each member of the family. It's not like they can't find new ones, if Grady doesn't work out, but these were the first.
"That's the last of the personal stuff."
Shepherd recruited a trio of wards to help Carol and the kids unload, and assessing their behavior has Carol as uneasy as seeing Gorman earlier. She's spent too much time being afraid herself not to recognize the signs in others, especially the slender woman Shepherd exasperatedly calls Joan. The wards are shy and quiet, eyeing Carol warily as they make trips to a floor not currently occupied by officers or wards. Carol likes the privacy for her family, but the fact that officers and civilians are so heavily segregated is a reminder of why she and Shane were recruited to come here.
"I can stay and help set things up?" Joan suggests, darting a glance toward Shepherd as if she expects it to be denied. Carol honestly would prefer not to have the help, so she can talk to all four of the kids in private, but it can't hurt to hear a civilian view of Grady, either.
Shepherd just sighs and shrugs. "Alright. I'll tell Lerner you're assigned to Walsh for the time being."
She dismisses the other helpers before turning to Carol. "Hanson may want to meet you and the kids later, but he's the old school sort. He'll probably want to do it over dinner, like the world's still the same as it was. I'd dress as if it was."
"We can do that." The irony of their current situation is that Carol's kids actually have better clothing now, thanks to scavenging, than they ever wore when Ed controlled the purse strings.
"Good. Joan can be your guide if you need to leave this floor." Shepherd drops a set of keys on the nurse's desk. "I honestly wouldn't recommend it until Walsh gets things settled in hand. You won't be required to work, not like the wards. Lerner's orders."
"I think I can find plenty to keep busy," Carol tells her, filing away the fact that she is exempt from whatever requirements the wards have to meet. It makes sense, as it won't win her any friends with the wards at all. Isolate the unwelcome baggage in all ways, while seeming to do her favors. Carol bets Shane will be overworked as the other half of Lerner's frustrated ire.
After studying her solemnly for a minute, Shepherd gives her a jerky nod before exiting through the double doors that lock behind her. That leaves Carol to turn and eye the kids and Joan.
"Alright. We've got the entire maternity ward, probably because all the male officers are terrified of the place. Let's figure out how we set up a chicken nursery instead of a baby one."
Joan is baffled, but willing to help. By the time the messenger arrives with the expected summons for dinner, Joan is laughing alongside the kids after an afternoon of wrangling chickens and basic construction using items left behind on the floor. It isn't a perfect solution, having the chickens indoors like this, but she suspects once the birds prove worthwhile, things will change.
"Shower and change, all of you, but go sparing on the water."
The fact that they have electricity and running water is amazing, but she's very aware of how fragile the systems that provide both are now. Joan's shared enough random tidbits during the day to know there are limits placed on the wards. They only get to shower once a week unless duties require otherwise.
"You, too, Joan, unless it violates some rule I don't know about yet."
Joan shoots a yearning look to one of the unoccupied rooms after glancing at a security camera that points toward the floor. "Officially, I can here. Just not down in our showers. It's not monitored here."
"Then shoo. Go shower."
Carol watches Joan disappear before going to examine the most obvious camera and circling the maternity ward to take careful note of the other cameras. None seem functional and wouldn't show anything more interesting than the floor right now, but she's certain there's a way to activate them remotely. Making it random would be trickier to avoid, so Carol imagines that's exactly what will happen. Just because Lamson vouches for Shane doesn't mean the rest of the leadership here will follow suit. Lerner already shows some signs of sharing Gorman's sentiment about county cops.
Filing the problem away to discuss with Shane later, she goes to shower herself. If Captain Hanson is as uptight as Shepherd implied, she needs to follow all the unnecessary etiquette he'll expect.
"Carol, I've got about five minutes to get everyone downstairs..."
Shane trails off as she turns to face him, still fastening her necklace into place. The way his eyes skim down her body makes her decide the fifties style halter dress she'd collected and never braved wearing is an excellent choice for tonight. He takes a deep breath, chest expanding in the dark blue uniform shirt he gained somewhere today, and then jerks his gaze up to meet hers again.
"Shepherd forewarned me, then sent a messenger to confirm. She's not the friendliest person in the place, but she's thorough," Carol tells him. "Think this will pass muster with the captain?"
If they were the couple they're playing, she'd twirl and ask him what he thought of the dress. It's been so many years since she's felt this comfortable in her own skin. Attention like he just gave was dangerous before. Now it's uplifting.
"Yeah, I think he'll like it quite a bit. It's got that old school vibe."
Carol laughs. "You mean I look like a fifties sitcom housewife, don't you?"
To her surprise, Shane shakes his head. "Nah. More Audrey Hepburn than Lucille Ball."
The compliment makes her blush, but before she can come up with any reply, Henry appears in the doorway. He does do a twirl, capturing Shane's attention and asking for approval of his little polo and slacks combination. The adults' moment is lost.
But she remembers his flicker of interest, and for the first time since she asked him to help her with the children, she wonders. Maybe she's not so old he doesn't find her intriguing, after all.