Chapter 2: When the wizard gets to me, I'm asking for a smaller heart

Helena kind of hated saying it and thinking like that, but couldn't deny it either. After losing Deborah and after being cleared from the allegations against her, her life had been simpler. She no longer had anyone to worry about, no responsibility for someone else's well-being and happiness, the only person she needed to look after was herself.

At first it had been difficult to adjust to living without having her sister to talk to. There still were times when something nice happened and Helena's first instinct was to call Deborah to tell her the good news. But once she had adjusted, life had been easy. She would've preferred it that way even if it hadn't felt quite right; being so detached wasn't like her. Alas, she wasn't immune to the stupidity brought on by the disease commonly described simply with the worn phrase "the heart wants what the heart wants". And because her heart kept inanely insisting, here she was, making her way from Colorado to D.C. on foot, all because of one sentence that had kickstarted her stupid, stupid heart.

I'm not going anywhere, Hunnigan had told Helena the last time they'd spoken, a good while back when Helena had still had a working radio on her, back when the evacuation orders had been given out, shortly prior to the contingency sterilization missiles being launched from NORAD in an effort to contain the outbreak. The thing about those missiles was that in addition to killing the B.O.W.'s (and whoever happened to be unfortunate enough to get stuck in the blast zone), they also effectively fried out most of the electronical equipment in the vicinity, leaving Helena and other field operatives with little to no means of contacting each other or HQ. Not that it mattered much now. All other officers were gone, what was left of the field agents had abandoned their missions long ago. Helena didn't know it, but Hunnigan's screen that was usually flooding with real-time reports from field operatives had been silent for weeks.

But that sentence, those four words delivered with the calm tone that promised familiar guidance, that was what it took for Helena to abandon her post and head back. Why it had made Helena feel like that, she couldn't say. All she knew for certain was that she needed to get there.

Under normal circumstances, she probably could've walked from Colorado to D.C. by now, but nothing was normal now. Thanks to the chaos, most of the roads were blocked and driving anywhere was nearly impossible. Any average human's first instinct was to leave the cities. Problem was, there were a lot of average humans and they all had the same idea, their actions ultimately resulting in no one going anywhere.

Helena stopped at the bottom of a hill and got off the bicycle she'd scavenged from someone's backyard a few days back. She had no intention of riding the bike up the hill, she didn't really have the excess energy to waste and at this rate her quads would make professional cyclists' look puny in comparison by the time she made it to her destination. Well, maybe not, especially when considering her body didn't have much time to rest or nutrients to use rebuilding the muscles she wore out daily.

It was getting dark and she was growing tired, not to mention hungry. She would've even eaten olives if she'd happened to find some right now. That was saying something; she hated olives. Helena took a tiny sip of water and got off the road, heading toward the large building across a basketball court and a playground.

"School's out," she muttered quietly when she reached the building and realized it was a school. Helena took out the small flashlight from the loop in her utility belt and shone the beam into the dark hallway. No movement, no sounds. She waited for a while before slowly pushing the door open and getting inside.

She passed a few classrooms and had to laugh out loud when she saw the blackboard. Someone had taken the time to fill it with the words "Reapers are just a myth" written in capital letters over and over, as if being punished by a teacher for making outrageous claims of reapers being real. Helena admitted she didn't get the joke, but the mere act of someone bothering to do this in the middle of a zombie apocalypse was... amusing and oddly inspiring.

Following the signs hanging from the ceiling, she made her way toward the cafeteria. She wasn't honestly expecting to find anything edible there, it had been what, four weeks now? Surely whatever there'd been available had already spoiled or had been eaten. But it couldn't hurt to check. At the very least, there might be water.

She circled to the kitchen and stared at the fridge door defiantly. The hum of electronics suggested everything was still operational but still, opening the fridge was ill-adviced... so of course she had to look in.

"Eauh!" she coughed when the stench of rotting and moldy food hit her. "Why the fuck did I do that? I'm an idiot," she told herself and hastily shut the door.

She did a quick tour around the kitchen, peeking into cabinets, looking to scrounge up something to eat, but anything consumable had already been taken. Sighing, she tried the water tap. At least that was still functioning and the water seemed clear. She took some into the cup of her palm and sniffed it before taking a taste. No scent, no flavor. Good.

After filling up her water reserves, she headed up to the offices, hoping to find a good spot to get a few hours of sleep. She passed the broken and emptied vending machines in the waiting room and entered the principal's office. Helena blocked the door with a chair before slumping into the comfortable one behind the desk.

She leaned back, lifted her feet onto the desk and lit a cigarette, taking a moment to appreciate being able to fulfill an adolescent fantasy of performing such impudent acts at the desk of the school's highest authority figure. It wasn't as much fun as she'd expected.

"Hey, God, it's Helena Harper again. I'm kind of running on fumes here and I was wondering if there's any chance I could catch a break. Maybe give me a sign?" she spoke quietly as she exhaled the smoke, and chuckled at the silence.
"No? Yeah, I figured. Thanks for nothing, I never did believe in you much anyw-" she began to say but was interrupted. The phone on the desk rang. Helena stared at it for a long moment before slowly reaching her hand to it, careful as if expecting the noisy object come to life an bite her fingers off.

"...hello..?"

"No, no, no, don't go in there!" Hunnigan groaned as she watched helplessly when a small group of survivors did what everyone seemed to think was a smart move during a zombie apocalypse; they headed into the sewers.

"Why would you do that? What is wrong with you? It's not any safer in there, it's full of germs and crap and... stinky," she scoffed. It was as useless as yelling at the screen in a movie theater; the characters were scripted to do the dumbest things. They never looked behind them when they should've, they always tripped on something, and of course someone always thought it would be a great idea to split up.

"Hello, goodbye," Hunnigan rolled her eyes as the team disappeared into the sewers and everything was quiet and motionless again. She returned her attention to her meal that was sitting on the side desk. She'd never managed to bring herself to eat alone in the mess hall, the large empty space made her feel even lonelier.

"Today I have for you a mixture of frozen vegetables, namely broccoli, cauliflower and peas with some pasta, lovingly prepared with..." she chatted before taking a taste and let out an agitated exhale.
"...prepared without an ounce of seasoning. Someone forgot the salt and pepper. Nice going, other Hunnigan."

"My kingdom for an omelet. Or a fresh salad... some tomatoes... an apple maybe... frankly, anything fresh would do nicely," she sighed deeply.

Once done eating, she drummed her fingers against the edge of the desk and tried to decide what to do next. There was so much that needed to be done, but nothing that actually could be done. Loneliness was bad enough, add boredom to that and you've got yourself a combination which would undoubtedly inevitably lead to a nasty case of depression. Or maybe insanity. Perhaps she'd already gone insane but just didn't know it. No, crazy people never questioned their sanity, so as long as she worried about being crazy, it meant she was fine. Right?

"Do what you can to keep in touch."
"Will smoke signals do?" Helena inquires jokingly and Hunnigan chuckles a little.
"Smartass, but for what it's worth, I've got a satellite, I'll see it. Hunnigan out."

Hunnigan snapped awake from the half dream, half memory after having dozed off watching a forty minute instructional video on how to fold towels and sheets neatly. She honestly had no idea how exactly she'd wound up watching it, but the woman's voice had been soothing and pleasurable to listen to. It took Hunnigan a moment to realize what had woken her. The computer was beeping to let her know it had found something. The facial recognition software had found a match to one of the searches she'd been running in the background constantly for weeks. A security camera in high school at Winchester in Virginia had captured Helena Harper. The feed was mostly of a dark empty cafeteria, but in the corner of the camera's field of vision was the kitchen... and the fridge which Helena had opened, the light pouring from within illuminating her face enough for the software to recognize her.

Hunnigan scrambled to sit up straight and reached for the keyboard, typing in commands to tap into more of the school's networked cameras that were still operational.

"What are you doing in there? You're supposed to be at the CDC lab in Colorado," Hunnigan muttered as she watched Helena make her way to the principal's office. Hunnigan grabbed her headset and dialed the phone number to the office.

"Hunnigan?" Helena breathed when she realized who she was talking with.

"Why are you there, you're supposed to be on doctor Lawson's protective detail with Leon in Colorado!"

"Glad to hear you're okay too," Helena muttered, more than a little miffed at being scolded after all the effort she'd put into getting where she currently was.

"Helena!" Hunnigan demanded and the younger woman sighed. It was all about the job with her, wasn't it?

"I was! Leon and I escorted Lawson to the center safe and sound, she's fine and working on a vaccine. Thankfully, the virus used in the attacks was one of the old ones, probably bought from the black market, outdated and mostly unmodified, whoever caused these outbreaks put most of their resources into spreading the infection rather than modifying it," Helena muttered.

Frankly, she didn't care too much about the details of who and why, her job wasn't to investigate the motives, her job was to resolve the situation and as far as she was concerned, it was being taken care of.

"These groups do like their sleeper cells and sleeper agents," Hunnigan agreed, her voice a quiet mumble, almost as if she was talking to herself rather than to another person.

"So, how are things on your end?" Helena inquired and Hunnigan scoffed.
"Things are... quiet."

"How ya holdin' up?"
"I'm fine. But I never want to see another survival food kit in my life after this is over."

"Don't talk about food, I'm starving," Helena groaned.
"I'm sorry. I... didn't think before speaking," Hunnigan apologized, slightly embarrassed at having the audacity to complain about the quality of her meals while there were people out there who didn't have any at all.

"It's okay," Helena chuckled.
"You never answered my question. Why are you there?"

"I'm on my way back to the HQ."
"Why?" Hunnigan frowned.

"Thought you could use some company," Helena responded, her smirk audible in her voice, "It's gonna take me at least another day to get there... provided I won't run into trouble. Any chance you could map out a quick route for me, just like old times?" she then inquired in exaggerated nostalgia, and judging from the sound of Hunnigan's fingers fox trotting on the keyboard, she was already working on it.

"As is to be expected, most of the major roads are pretty badly blocked up, but if you're moving on foot, it shouldn't be a problem. There are a couple of camps along the way, but... judging from what I'm seeing I would advice against making contact with them," Hunnigan mumbled an answer as she spied on small groups of people taking full advantage of the situation and using it as an excuse to go wild.

"Roger that. As much as I hate to say it, I'm pretty tired and should get some rest."

"Just smile and wave at the cameras you come across, never know, I might be watching," Hunnigan jested. They both knew she'd definitely be watching Helena's every move whenever she could.

"I'll remember that. I'll see you soon."
"I'll try not to go anywhere."