ASHLYN
Daryl walks over to where Rick, Shane, and Dr. Jenner are standing, but still hangs back. I remember what Jim told me about him and I suppose it's true: Daryl hasn't been fully accepted by the group yet.
Dr. Jenner leads us into an elevator that seems just large enough for all of us to cram into. I somehow end up in the back, between Glenn and Daryl. Like most of us, I keep my head down. I can tell Daryl is pressing himself into the corner, giving me some space. I'm glad for it; my shoulder's still throbbing from when that walker pulled me down earlier. I sneak a glance up at Daryl, peering through my bangs. Standing this close to him, it's easy to feel small compared to his tall, broad frame. He doesn't notice me though. His eyes are on Dr. Jenner, or his gun at least.
"Doctors always go around packing heat like that?" Daryl questions.
"Well there were plenty left lying around so I familiarized myself," Jenner responds, looking around at all of us. He must notice the heavy atmosphere so he adds, "but you look harmless enough. Except you." The last part directed at Carl. "I'll have to keep my eye on you." Carl looks up at him, trying to play it cool but smiling anyway.
The elevator opens up and we follow Jenner into a large white hallway. It reminds me of a hospital, with its fluorescent lights and linoleum floors.
"Are we underground?" Carol asks. I wonder the same thing, realizing I didn't pay attention if we were going up or down in the elevator.
"Are you claustrophobic?" Jenner asks, answering our question.
"A little."
"Try not to think about it."
I feel sorry for Carol but the answer reassures me, at least a little. Underground sounds safe. We don't have to worry about making noise that might attract walkers or having lights on that might attract other survivors. Part of me thinks of a grave, but my practical side ignores it. This is the best place to be, I tell myself.
We reach the end of the hallway and step into a massive room with a high ceiling. It has a black floor and dark walls and a couple dozen small white desks in the center. Dr. Jenner calls out, seemingly to no one, "Vi, bring up the lights in the big room." Bright white lights flash on. "Welcome to Zone 5," Jenner says, walking toward the white desks.
"Where is everybody, the other doctors, the staff?" Rick wastes no time in asking what's on all of our minds.
Standing in the center of the room, Jenner replies, "I'm it. It's just me here." Contrary to Rick's usual poker face, it's clear he wasn't ready to hear this. He was counting on the CDC having some sort of cure, or at least people working on it. Now he finds out there's just one man left to fix everything. Although I was expecting this, it still hurts to see it firsthand. Some part of me was hoping for the same thing Rick was. Mostly I was hoping the people I had worked with in the past might still be here. I only knew a couple people, but I thought—hoped really—that if they were still alive, this is where they'd be. Fighting to find an answer. I understand how idealistic that was, they had families just like the rest of us, but it still hurts to let go of the idea. I can't think about it anymore. It's all in the past now.
"What about the person you were speaking with?" Lori questions. "Vi?"
"Vi. Say hello to our guests. Tell them… Welcome." Jenner addresses 'Vi' but is staring at us, a strange sense of amusement and lonliness on his face.
"Hello guests. Welcome." A computerized voice greets us from hidden speakers in the room.
"I'm all that's left." Even with Jenner's straight forward response, Rick seems to have trouble taking in this new information. "I'm sorry."
Dr. Jenner gets a small box from one of the desks and leads us to another room. This one much smaller. It looks like a classroom almost, probably a room for small meetings. He directs us to sit and starts opening up the box at a table in the front of the room. He puts on blue latex gloves and starts preparing his needles and tubes for our blood tests.
He starts taking our blood, one by one.
"What's the point? If we were infected, we'd be running a fever," Andrea insists, as Jenner wipes her arm with alcohol. She's right. There are easier ways of checking, but I suppose he's just doing his job.
"I've already broken ever rule in the book by letting you in here. Let me at least be thorough." I understand his caution. We did just come in after being surrounded by walkers. I think about how I must look to him. Covered in blood, dirt, and sweat.
When it's my turn to get tested, after everyone else, I sit down at the table across from Jenner. I keep my head down, as he starts preparing to take my blood. "And who are you?" he asks, politely enough.
"Ashlyn Turner," I answer reflexively, but immediately regret giving him my last name. He looks up from his needles and examines my face.
"That sounds familiar," he says, still staring at me. "Have we met before?"
"No, I'm sure we haven't," I reply, not looking at him. It isn't a lie, but I don't want to say why my name probably sounds familiar to him. Thinking about my work is bad enough, I sure as hell don't want to talk about it.
"Huh." He didn't seem entirely convinced, but he continued taking my blood anyway. "That's it," he says when he's finished. We all start getting up, but Andrea stumbles a bit. "Is she ok?"
"She hasn't eaten in days," Jacqui says, helping her walk. "None of us have."
"Well, let's get some food then," Jenner says.
He leads us into a cafeteria and tells, "Have whatever you'd like." Filled with energy, everyone begins rummaging through cabinets and pulling out bags of food.
"Now let's all wait a moment," Lori calls out above the noise, "none of us have sat down and had a proper meal in months. Let's do this right." Everyone nods in agreement so she continues, "Glenn, push those tables together. Carl, Sophia, here, put out the silverware." We all start preparing the dinner. I help Glenn move some chairs, others start putting a dinner together. It almost feels like we're a big, strange family, getting ready for Thanksgiving dinner. After I help Glenn though, I'm not sure what to do. The kitchen is full of people, those that aren't cooking are talking, and the table is already set. I feel painfully out of place. There people have been living surviving together, living together. I just tagged along a couple days ago.
I stand around awkwardly for a minute, watching everything from the outside, before I try to slip away. I wanted to find out more of what happened by coming here. Maybe if I look around, I can find Dr. Hanson's old office—
"Ashlyn! Where are you going? Come over here," T-Dog calls out to me. I turn back in shock for a moment, before walking over to him. He's standing with Shane and Rick, with Daryl leaning on a nearby table.
"Did you need something?" I ask. I felt bad for trying to sneak away, but it didn't look like there was anything left to help with.
"Naw, just wanted to talk," he says.
"I wanted to thank you. You offered to sacrifice yourself for us back there," Rick says seriously. "That would've been the second time you saved us."
It takes me a moment to realize what he's talking about. Then another moment to get over my surprise. "Oh, outside the building. It was just an idea, never even did anything," I mumble the last part.
"No. He's right. You barely know us and you were going to risk your life to save us. It means a lot," Shane says.
"I wasn't gonna let anything get her," Daryl speaks up, moving from his table. "It takes balls to run through a herd of walkers though."
"Thanks" is all I can think to say. I wasn't expecting this kind of gratitude, and I definitely wasn't expecting Daryl to say something nice. I gulp, remembering I still have a lot to say to him. I have to thank him for covering me, back at the camp, and I have to apologize for blowing up at him. This isn't going to be easy.
"C'mon everybody, food's ready. Grab a plate," Lori calls from the kitchen. I sigh in relief, happy for an excuse not to talk to Daryl yet.
Everyone rushes over and loads up their plate with food. Nothing fancy really, but eating it off a plate at a set table surrounded by people makes it so much better. The room is filled with conversation, giggling, and forks scraping plates. Dale comes to the table with a bottle of red wine and starts pouring everyone a glass. Oh my god, I haven't had any alcohol for weeks. I had some whiskey around the start of the outbreak but it didn't last too long. I take a small sip of the wine, intending to savor it, but then I take a large gulp. I never liked wine much, but it's just what I need right now.
"You know, in Italy, children have a little bit of wine with dinner," Dale jokes, pouring Lori a glass. "And in France."
"Well, when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then," Lori says, with good humor.
"What's it gonna hurt," Rick says, "Come on." Lori gives him a serious but amused face. "Come on," he tries again. Everyone laughs and it looks like a scene right out of a sitcom. She nods, resigning, and Carl is handed a cup with a bit of wine in it.
"There you are young lad," Dale says.
The table is silent while Carl takes a sip.
"Ewwww," Carl scrunches up his face and sets the glass back on the table. The group laughs while Carl keeps shaking his head, sticking out his tongue.
"Just stick to soda pop there, bud," Shane says, not quite as amused as the rest of us. Now that I think about it, he's been pretty quiet.
"Not you Glenn," Daryl calls across the table to Glenn.
"What?"
"Keep drinking , little man. I want to see how red your face can get," Daryl teases, pouring himself a big glass of wine.
"Ha ha ha." Glenn takes the jibe well and everyone laughs.
We all turn our attention to Rick as he taps his knife against a glass and stands up. "It seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly."
"He is more than just our host," T-Dog says, raising his glass. Everyone else chimes in, toasting to Jenner.
"Hear, hear!"
"Here's to you, Doc,"
"Booyah!" Daryl shouts, others copying him.
Rick looks Jenner straight in the eye, "Thank you."
As everyone drinks to Jenner, Shane speaks up, "So when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, Doc?" His serious tone cuts through the pleasant atmosphere and I look over quickly at Jenner. My heart is pounding and my body is cold. I already know what must have happened. I don't want to hear it.
"All the, uh, other doctors," Shane continues, "that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?" The whole table looks uncomfortable.
"We're celebrating, Shane," Rick tries to stop him. "Don't need to do this now."
"Whoa wait a second. This is why we're here, right? This was your move, supposed to find all the answers. Instead we," he chuckles, "we found him." He points back to Jenner. I suddenly find myself angry with Shane. Jenner lets us in, saving us from walkers, feds us, gives us wine, gives us shelter. And he's talking bad about him, like he isn't even here? I understand he wants answers, but there's better ways, better times, to go about getting them. "Found one man. Why?"
"Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left. Went off to be with their families," Jenner replies, no sign of being offended. I close my eyes, hoping that's what the people I know did and fearing what he's going to say next. "And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted."
"Every last one?" Shane presses.
"No," he says, more serious this time, "many couldn't face walking out the door. They… opted out." He emphasizes the last part, making it clear what happened. I cringe and sit back in my chair. All of the food and wine in my stomach suddenly nauseating me. "There was a rash of suicides. That was a bad time."
"You didn't leave. Why?" Andrea asks, not in a rude way, but in a genuinely curious way.
"I just kept working. Hoping, to do some good."
"Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man," Glenn says to Shane. I'm sure everyone agrees with him. The atmosphere is heavy but conversation eventually resumes at the table, just not as jubilant as before.
When everyone is finished, I pour myself a second glass of wine, and we follow Jenner down another hallway, this one with the rooms we'll be staying in.
"Most of the facility is powered down. Including housing, so you'll have to make do here. The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you like. There's a rec room down the hall that you kids might enjoy." He bends down to look at Carl and Sophia, "Just, don't plug in the video games, okay? Or anything that draws power." He stands back up. "The same applies, if you shower go easy on the hot water."
Glenn turns to T-Dog, "Hot water?"
"That's what the man said."
The promise of a hot shower restores the mood and everyone seems happy again. We all rush off, into our own rooms.
I set my stuff down in what looks like an old lounge room. It's got a couch and table with a couple chairs. I pull the picture Jim gave me out of my pocket and prop it against a lamp on the counter. I find a bathroom with a shower connected to it so I lock the door, strip down, and go into the shower. Water rushes over my body, washing away the thick, top layer of blood and grime. I pump some soap out of a dispenser on the wall and get to work, scrubbing myself clean. Even though the soap and shampoo are cheap, generic stuff, the scent alone is wonderful to me. I spend longer in the shower than I intended, but it's still quick. I wrap a towel around me and go into my new room. Sitting down on the couch, I sip at my wine, reluctant to move. The water felt good, but my body is still sore. As I finish my second glass of wine, the throbbing in my shoulder becomes just a dull ache. Getting cold sitting around wet, I reluctantly get up and dry myself off. I slip into my cleanest undergarments and look in my duffel for the clothes with the least number of bloodstains. I sigh, not finding anything remotely clean. Before I put on a dirty tank top, I remember the dress I keep in my backpack. I find it, at the bottom of my bag, under all my books and maps and food. I kept it in my backpack to keep it clean. It isn't anything fancy, just a casual, light sundress with a floral print. Mel gave it to me, for my last birthday. Even though I loved it and it looked great on me, I rarely ever wore it. I packed it, thinking I'd wear it when I saw her, but that never happened.
I pull it on, pleased with how clean I feel. I brush out my long, wet hair, and tie it back, into a high bun, my short baby hairs curling at the back of my neck.
I sigh. I know I need to talk to Daryl. I suppose it'll be easier if I'm drunk, but before I get more to drink, I find his bandana and do my best to wash the stains out of it.
When I'm done, I walk back to the cafeteria, barefoot. The only shoes I kept with me are hiking boots and running shoes. I didn't expect a time would come for flats. Before I turn the corner back into the cafeteria, I hear Daryl's voice, yelling, "Hey little man, does everyone in China drink like a girl, or is it just you?"
"Shut up man, I'm Korean anyway," Glenn retorts in a I-don't-want-to-deal-with-your-shit-right-now kinda way.
I laugh as I walk into the room, "You're not still picking on poor Glenn, are you Daryl?" Daryl, Glenn, and T-Dog all look up at me, suddenly making me self-conscious. I haven't thought about how I looked in months but now I'm completely aware of my appearance.
"He is! But it's okay now, because you'll beat him up for me. Right?" Glenn jokes, more than a little drunk. I still feel Daryl's eyes on me, but I do my best to ignore it.
"You bet," I play along, "no one's going to talk shit about you if I have anything to say about it."
"Is that right?" Daryl chimes in, taking the joke as a direct challenge, "And what are you gonna do to stop me?" He moves toward me from the table he was leaning on and crosses his arms over his chest.
Glenn jumps up from his chair. He has arms in front of him, pretending to point a gun at Daryl, "Don't talk about the kid like that you fucking shit or I'll blow your head off!" He yells, mimicking me when I jumped out from behind the cars in Atlanta and screamed at the vatos kidnapping him.
I burst into laughter as Daryl pantomimes getting shot through the chest by Glenn.
"That's right, nobody fucks with my Glenn and gets away with it," I joke.
"Well I don't suppose you've got a gun hidden on ya at the moment so I don't think I've got anything to be scared off," Daryl says, eyeing me again.
I can't help but blush. My dress isn't too revealing, but the way he looks at me is still unnerving. Not bad, just unnerving. I don't want to look flustered though, so I change the subject, "I didn't come out here to talk, I came to get something to drink."
"My kinda girl," T-Dog raises his glass to me.
I walk over to the bar. I notice Daryl's drinking straight out of a bottle of Jack. I don't feel like drinking wine anymore so I pour myself some whiskey.
"I've got an idea, wait here," Glenn says excitedly, running out of the cafeteria. Unsure what to do now, I take a gulp of whiskey and sit down at a table.
"So what do you think of all this?" T-Dog asks. I just look at him for a second, unsure what he means exactly. "Of the CDC, of Jenner, all of it."
I think it over carefully for a moment, then answer, "I think we're lucky he was here."
"Yeah, well I think he's too smart for his own good. All them educated people are all talk, no action. When shit got real, they bailed. What good was all their fancy books and shit when the dead started walkin' round, eatin' people?" Daryl ranted. I didn't have an answer for him. He said what I'd been thinking about myself for a long time. I don't know how, but he always seemed to hit a nerve when he talked to me.
Glenn runs back into the room with a dart board under his arm and a handful of darts. "They were in the rec room. Let's play." He starts hanging up the board and Daryl strides over, obviously up for it.
"Let's make this more interesting. You lose, you take a shot," he says, pouring whiskey into a shot glass. "Now, who thinks they can beat me?"
Sorry this chapter was late again. the fourth of july got kind of crazy for me. Anyway, I really don't know how I feel about this chapter at all. I started deviating from the show a lot toward the end so I'm more than a little worried it's coming off weird. I thought I should end the chapter here though, so you can give me feedback on the direction it's taking before I continue.
Thanks for all the reviews and follows!
Icec: thanks for the detailed review. You're right, Ashlyn's dynamic with the group definitely changed after she almost distracted the walkers for them.