The east gate couldn't be opened immediately because enough zombies had followed them home that they became a hazard. Normally they save bullets by stabbing down at them, but seeing as Harry needed to get to the clinic right away they simply shot the things. Ten minutes later the trucks were grouped up outside the clinic ready for unloading, while the buses were directed to park at the community center, where tables filled with food were waiting for the civilians (whose arrival had been made known beforehand).

"Cam!" Marge exclaimed.

"Hey!" he responded happily, giving her a hug after he got out of the cab. "How've you been?"

"Worried as hell, of course. That's not good for the baby."

"Yeah, neither is not getting the surgery," Cameron said back. Then he got down to eyelevel with her belly and said, "You're going to be okay, I promise."

"That kid better be okay after all the crap we went through," Andrea commented after she hopped off the truck.

Cameron was about to say something, when Isturez appeared with Celia by his side. "Harry told me yesterday what happened, Andrea. I'll cut you a break and reduce the punishment to four days," he announced, strolling past them. "Turn your weapons in and go with Celia."

"Let's go," said Celia, putting a hand on Andrea's shoulders.

Andrea rolled her eyes frustration. "Fuck it, fine!" she breathed, handing over her rifle and pistol.

"What happened?" asked Marge.

"Don't ask," he sighed, looking towards the clinic as Greg and an assistant ran out carrying a gurney, which they took to the truck Harry was on. Shit that's right.

Cameron jogged over as Henry helped heave Harry onto the gurney. Isturez and other people were there to also make sure that the military leader was okay. Harry was having an oxygen mask put over his nose and mouth as he was being lifted away.

"Don't worry, Harry, we'll get you patched up," Henry said, continuing to put pressure on the wound.

"No, Greg will," Isturez said as they walked along.

"Are you sure—?"

"Yes, Greg was trained to handle this in the first place," Isturez told him flatly. "I need you to start offloading all the medical equipment."

"Whatever you say."

"Wesley, Marsh," Isturez went on.

"Sir?" Cameron and Wesley responded at the same time.

"Wesley, you're acting Defense advisor until Harry gets better—Marsh, you're his number two."

"Yes, sir," Wesley responded crisply.

"Me number two?" Cameron asked, taken back. "Is that really the wisest move?"

"Are you going to give me a reason to regret that?" Isturez asked back, raising an eyebrow.

"No, sir," he responded tiredly, deciding to no longer question decisions that rose his prominence. Fuck. Isturez nodded and took his leave.

Marge then punched his shoulder proudly. "Hey, this is something! If this keeps going, then imagine what you could tell your kids one day."

"Ah, speaking of which," Henry piped up. "If we set everything up tonight then we should be ready to perform the surgery tomorrow."

"Really?" Marge asked breathlessly, as a smile grew on Cameron's face.

"Yup," he responded with a nod. "But remember that I'm not as experienced as I'd like to be to perform it."

"But you're the only guy who can!" Cameron said, taking him by the shoulders and shaking him. "Don't wimp out now."

"I'm not, I'm only saying in case—"

"You want me put a gun to your head during the surgery so you'll be more motivated to do a better job?" Cameron asked as sincerely as possible.

"Enough, Cameron," Henry sighed. "Let's just get all that crap off the trucks, shall we?"

As tired as Cameron was, so were a lot of the people called upon to help unload the trucks. Over the next few hours, even though it was getting late, people were up and about. They were mostly the newly fed arrivals that didn't want to spend their first night in Yuba sleeping on a cot, and instead took in what little there was of the town. Some of them offered to help with the moving, seeing as those supplies were the reason they found rescue in the first place.

Cameron had finished taking in a box of scrubs and yawned as he went back outside. As he was about to find himself another box or machine to help take in, Cameron suddenly found himself slammed against one of the trucks. He had banged the back of his head, so it was a second before he noticed that a blonde woman was leaning up against him.

"Hey, cutie," she said, lessening the gap between them. She looked malnourished like the rest of the survivors, but Cameron instinctively knew that if given some time she'd be a knockout.

"…Huh?" was all Cameron managed to blurt out.

"I saw you along with the rest of your people standing up to Sutler. Big turn on," she told him seductively.

"Uh…okay," he said stupidly. Cameron tried to say something else but he was drawing a blank. Never before had a complete stranger randomly hit on him (and certainly never one as hot as her). So what was going on?

"I'm Natalie."

"….Cameron," he answered, still unsure about the situation.

"Thanks for rescuing us from that idiot. Have your own place? Because if there's anything I can do…" She put her lips to his ears. "Anything."

The moment Natalie's hand grabbed his crotch Cameron came to his senses. "Generous offer," he said, his voice cracking as he peeled himself off her. "But I'm spoken for, sorry."

"You sure?" she asked in an alluring way that would make any man rethink Cameron's decision.

"He's sure."

Becky walked up to them looking thoroughly annoyed. Cameron immediately went over to her and put his arms around her. "Yes, this is my girlfriend, whom I love, cherish, and all that good stuff," Cameron said quickly, making sure that Becky knew he had absolutely zero intentions with the blonde.

"I'm his fiancé," she corrected him.

"Even better," he said, putting on a desperate smile and hugging Becky tighter.

Natalie merely chuckled. "Well I certainly hope you two are very happy together." To his intense relief Cameron saw as she practically pounced on Wesley.

"What the hell was up with that?" Cameron breathed, letting Becky go.

"She just wanted to show her gratitude to someone," she answered with distaste.

"Is that so bad?"

"It's demeaning."

He looked at her curiously. "But didn't the two of us get together in the first place because—?"

She elbowed him in the gut. "Shut up. Besides, she just wants to find a real place to stay—fastest way to do that is to get laid."

"How would you know that?"

"Please, didn't you hear her ask if you had your own place?" Becky scoffed. "Slut." She could throw all the underhanded comments she wanted, but that didn't change the fact that Wesley was reacting positively to Natalie's advances.

Cameron decided it time to change the subject. "You hear? Marge is getting the surgery tomorrow."

Becky's expression shifted from contempt to one of joy, then she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "That's great, Cam." Cameron worked for another hour before the cold finally got to him, and he went home for a few hours sleep.

The next morning Cameron attended the funeral for the seven people that were lost at the hospital. Their friends and loved ones were all there mourning as well, and every once in a while they looked over at Cameron. They weren't dirty looks, really (maybe wondering what he could've done different). Those people had known the dangers and the reasons for going to the hospital—especially the ones that volunteered to be part of Cameron's advance team.

They had gone to that hospital not just for Cameron's baby, but for all the citizens that would one day needs their life saved by complicated surgery. Not only that, but by going back to Madison they had ended up giving over fifty people a chance to escape confinement and find rescue. Those seven people gave their lives to save much more than the one initially in danger.

There was no doubt that they were absurdly lucky that casualties were so few. But that was only because the entire time they had played as smart as possible to minimize losses. It wasn't like in zombie movies where the shit heads went in guns blazing. Yup, seven losses was more than acceptable for such a risky venture, especially considering the incident at Target… Still, seven people were seven people, and those people would've been preferred alive…. And that one life that they initially set out to save was the catalyst for their deaths.

When it came time for Marge to have her surgery, Cameron arrived at the clinic as she was being prepped. Before she was rolled away on the bed, Cameron kissed Marge's fingers lightly before letting them slip out of his hand. Seven people, he thought again as he took a seat next to Becky.

They had lost seven people, and the only way that Cameron wouldn't see their sacrifices as a waste would be if the life of his child were saved. It may have sounded selfish but that was how he felt. The future lives saved and those survivors were merely a bonus. If his baby didn't make it then Cameron wouldn't be able to see the whole thing as nothing more than a failure.

Becky let him to rest his head on her shoulder, Jules patted him reassuringly on the knee, and Dennis sat across from them shaking his foot nervously. Cole and Nick were also present for moral support, and they told him that Andrea and the rest of the team wished Marge luck. Even Harry briefly summoned him to his bedside to offer his support as well. It seemed unfair that after all the work that Cameron and all those people put in all he could do now was pray.