Chapter 14: Promises

October 2, 1998

12:00 AM

Precient 24

With a heavy sigh Sam threw himself into one of the chairs resting against the wall and studied his new surroundings. It seemed like a lifetime since he had last seen the first floor of the station, home to the robbery and homicide divisions of the force, with its heavily polished tile floors and columns of desks laden with paperwork and the person effects of the investigators whom occupied that workspace. Perhaps it truly had been a lifetime for all the change that had taken place.

The once immaculate white tiles had been defiled by thick coats of dust and muddy boot prints. An assortment of papers and multicolored file folders littered the ground, pushed hastily from the surfaces of desks where stainless steel weapons crates now lay. Pictures of family members and crafts made by children in art class lay shattered and forgotten amid the mess upon the floor. Two chairs had been wedged between the elevator doors at the far end of the room, next to the staircase leading to the second level, to keep the doors open in case a hasty retreat was needed for the remaining survivors.

'So few.' Sam though, surveying those that still moved about the wide room. 'There's so few of us left.'

Eight others to be precise, not counting those Sam had arrived with and those guarding the station's front but still a considerably smaller number than what the trooper had expected. What had he really expected? Well-organized teams of officers, armed to the teeth, guarding every conceivable entrance into the precient would have been nice. Hundreds of civilian survivors huddled together on cots looking frightened but hopeful that help would arrive shortly and everything would be right once more would have been even better. Sam shook his head, clearly he had expected too much.

Instead what he got was half a dozen SWAT troopers, looking generic and blocky in their combat gear, eyes grim as they clutched their weapons tight and spoke to one another in hushed tones. Rather than the hundreds of civilian refugees Sam had hoped for he saw only two, one a stranger, the other a good friend. Both were looking over Foster at the moment.

Doctor Gregory Burke had the look of a hawk about him. His dark searching eyes and hooked nose gave the lanky physician a subtle sort of majesty. The gray streaks in his thick black hair and blue collar shirt with the sleeves turned up at the elbow making him look every part the MD low on resources but willing to do whatever he could to help his patient. It was plain in the methodical way that Burke went about feeling Jacob's pulse and shinning a tiny penlight in his eyes that he had done this many times before.

Tessa Foster, a plump, sturdy woman with chocolate skin and hair to match, used one hand to clutch her husband's and the other to mop sweat from his forehead with a Kleenex snatched from the pocket of her torn jeans. Samuel felt his heart constrict painfully in his chest whenever Tessa's eyes turned towards Foster's pale – almost ashen – face, so full of anguish and fear and anger at being helpless to do nothing for the one she loved. Sometimes, for the briefest moment, Tessa would turn that suffering gaze to Sam and give him a reassuring smile. Clearly Jacob hadn't told her what had really happened back at the barricade or she would be trying to tear his throat out with her bare hands rather than give off the appearance that she was holding herself together.

'I wish she would just try and throttle me until my head pops.' The young trooper thought wearily. 'It'd be just what I deserve – no – even that would be letting me off too easy. I sealed my best friend's death sentence after all.'

A door opening to Sam's left drew his attention away from Jacob and Tessa. Kathryn Ward emerged from the ladies room, her hair a little straighter and her face a great deal cleaner now that she had been given an opportunity to wash away the evening's grime. She smiled warmly at Sam as he caught her eye but the young man noticed his friend's smile came nowhere near her eyes, eyes that were swollen and a puffy red color. Kathy had been doing more than cleaning her face in the washroom.

"Hey," she said lightly taking a seat next to her friend, resting her head on his shoulder and cracking a yawn. "You should try and get some sleep."

Sam shook his head. "I'm not tired." He said plainly. "I don't think I'll ever be able to sleep a wink again." It was hard to get any rest when you knew you were responsible for the death – a truly horrible one in this case – of someone you greatly respected and liked, Sam thought.

"It's not your fault." Kathryn said, craning her neck to look up into the man's eyes as if she could read his thoughts.

"Kathy –" He began but the younger woman cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"It's not your fault, Sam." She repeated, the face Sam had once though of as being so fragile and delicate was now hard as rock. "It could have happened to any of us, Sam, any of us. We didn't know what the hell to expect at the blockade, you were shocked and stunned just like the rest of us. There's no shame in admitting that. Foster doesn't blame you for what happened, I don't blame you for happened. Please, Sam, stop torturing yourself like this!"

"How can I!" Sam cried, not realizing he had raised his voice until he noticed the peculiar looks the other SWAT troopers were directing his way. Scowling, Sam turned his back on them and lowered his tone, staring hard into Kathryn's defiant eyes. "How can I? If I had been one step quicker, if I had just pulled the fucking trigger everything would be fine now! Jacob would be smiling at Tess and laugh at her for ever being worried about him in the first place, not sweating buckets while he waits to turn into one of those – those things!"

"Sam!" Kathy said, her voice a sharp whisper as she shot forward in her seat. "You don't know that's what's going to happen. Th-there might be a chance his body will be able to fight off the infection."

"You know that's bullshit, Kathy." Sam fumed angrily, not at Kathy but at himself for being too slow to save Jacob, at the futility of the whole situation. He felt like tearing his hair out by the roots. "That's how this disease – whatever it is – spread so fast. Everyone who gets attacked by one of those things becomes one of them. We don't even know how much longer Tubbs is going to be Tubbs for. An hour, maybe two? Then he'll turn and try to kill us – even his wife. I did that to him Kathy. Me!"

"No," the female officer said, the word crumbling on her tongue as fresh tears brewed in her eyes. "Sam, you won't ever get me to blame y…"

What came over the trooper at that moment, Samuel Brocket could not explain. One moment he was listening to Kathy deny any claims he had to guilt for Foster's fate and then he was seizing her cheeks in his hands, pulling her towards him and pressing his lips to hers. 'What the hell am I doing?' Sam wondered, feeling bewilderment over his own boldness and the fact that Kathy wasn't pulling back but rather easing her own tongue between his teeth.

What the hell was he doing? He didn't deserve to kiss someone like Kathryn Ward – he didn't deserve to even talk to someone like her – not after what he had done but, in that instant, Sam didn't care anymore. He had spent the evening watching his friends die, had spent the night running from death itself and the icing on the cake was that one of his closest companions was about to turn into a murderous cannibal – all thanks to him.

Sam felt cold inside, so cold that it was as if winter festered in his heart. Surely his sanity would crumble to dust if he allowed that coldness to take hold of him. He needed, desperately needed, something warm and reassuring to take hold of and fight off the numbness overwhelming his being. There was only death and madness in that biting chill.

Kathryn, her soft cheeks heating Sam's frigid hands as he gripped her face. Kathryn, her lips seeming to breathe new life into the man the longer he held her in their embrace. Kathryn, who was still able to smile after all she had seen that terrible night. God, how the young man wished he could taste her lips for all his life so that he would never have to know the horror of that emptiness gnawing away at his core. God, how he wished she would pull away from him and slap him until his face bled. Did she not know what he had done?

After a moment – Sam was unable to say how long exactly – the young woman did pull back but not to strike a blow against the man who still cradled her jaw so tenderly in his hands. There was surprise and confusion in Kathy's wide eyes but a gentle, timid sort of understanding that had not been there before kindled in those green pools as well. Her mouth worked silently as she reached up to hold the hands pressed against her flushed cheeks.

"I'm sorry." Sam sighed, lowering his eyes to the floor, unable to meet that magnificent crystalline gaze any longer. He knew the others assembled in the room must be gawking with gaping jaws but they could all have sprouted a second head for all the notice Sam gave them. All that seemed to exist was Kathy and him self. "I've screwed up so many times tonight that I've lost count. I let Foster get hurt, I won't make the same mistake twice. I promise I'll do everything I can to protect you Kathy. I won't let anyone or anything hurt you. I promise. I swear it."

"Sam –" Kathy began slowly and he could tell by here tone that she was going to dismiss his words again. She was in no need of protection, she would say and that he shouldn't make promises he couldn't be sure of keeping. She was going to say that, Sam was sure, but the double doors suddenly swept inward with a loud bang and the words died on her lips. Gunshots filled Sam's ears.

"Doc, I need you in here right now!" William Brown ordered, tone urgent, his considerable bulk framed in the doorway.

Burke nodded and was on his feet in a moment, gliding towards the door with that subtle grace of his, flanked by two black-clad SWAT officers. Sam exchanged a worried glance with Kathy before they were both on their feet and following after, ready to see what new catastrophe had befallen them. Whatever it was, Sam doubted he would be surprised.

Author's Note: Well, this was a short chapter so I thought I'd post it as well. Stay tuned for another update soon. Please enjoy. Read and review when you get a chance.