Happy birthday to Claire's original (and, in my opinion, best) voice actor, Alyson Court! :3 -Akumu

CLAIREVEMBER 2023
Day 9 - court

"Before I read the court's sentencing, I call the defendant and his counsel forward," said Judge Presley.

Frederic and his lawyer, who wore his silver hair parted and combed so finely it flashed white like freshly forged bullet casings, stood. Had the lawyer also worn frameless glasses, a bright orange prison jumpsuit, and a shiny pair of handcuffs, Claire doubted she could've told them apart.

Frederic looked down at her and sneered. His lawyer followed his gaze, looked at her, and whispered something. Rolling his eyes, Frederic turned forward as his lawyer led him to the wooden half-wall that was the clerk of the court's desk.

Claire twisted sideways and shook her head. Leon closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. Angela, who sat beside him, grasped the bench in front of her, shoulders hunched and eyes narrowed. A tigress ready to pounce.

"Is there anything you'd like to say to the court, Mr. Downing?" Presley asked.

She watched Frederic over the thick frames of her reading glasses. The clerk, a pudgy man with a sweaty forehead named Wagner, tilted his head to watch Frederic through his own, thick lenses. To the far left sat a court report, a blond woman in a maroon suit, typing on a steno machine as she also watched Frederic.

The machine's keys clacked.

The fans overhead whirled.

The electricity shooting through the ceiling lights buzzed.

Frederic shrugged. "Nothing at all."

"I was hoping you'd say that." The judge looked at the papers she held and read, "This trial has been the most difficult I've endured during my long career of trying and sentencing those found guilty of domestic terrorism. I thought I'd seen it all, Mr. Downing: mass poisoning conspiracies, plans to blow up entire buildings and blocks full of people. I even had one young man who stood where you stand now who, with the help of his fellow Ku Klux Klan members, turned their community into a modern-day sundown town. They burned down the houses of three families with them all trapped inside. Killed twelve people in all, including five children and one pregnant woman, all because of the color of their skin.

"As horrible as all those cases were, you have caused a level of terror and destruction that I had never seen before in my court. Yesterday, a jury of your peers found you guilty of three counts of domestic terrorism, one count of tampering with vessels, one count of airplane hijacking, and five counts of smuggling. After you were taken back to your cell, the jury reconvened and decided unanimously that the only penalty befitting such crimes is the death penalty.

"To take the life of another human being…That's a big decision to make. One that I wish you'd considered more carefully. But you didn't. Time after time, you disregarded the lives of those who may be affected by your actions. And now almost five thousand people – five thousand innocent Americans – are dead." Presley shook her head. "And here you stand before me, smug as a cat who's finally caught the canary. I was brought up to believe the best in everyone. But I see no 'best' in you, Mr. Downing. I don't even see good. I just see a man who's a danger to anyone with whom he comes into contact.

"That's why, after much deliberation, I have sided with the jury's recommendation and hereby sentence you to death on a date yet to be determined. The matter of the State of Wyoming versus Frederic Downing has been settled this 26th day of January, 2010, in the District Court of the City of Harvardville. Court is adjourned. Now get him out of my –"

Presley clutched her throat, coughing. She held up a tiny pink dart.

Claire spun around. A trenchcoated woman stood in the middle aisle. From her heeled boots to the flowering beret that covered the wavy blond bob of her hair, she was enveloped in black. Lipstick stained her lips a bloody red, and her bug eye-big sunglasses masked her eyes.

The guards and bailiff rushed forward. In one ballet-fluid movement, she twisted and shot all the guards in the neck with darts.

Bullets sailed past her. Leon and Angela had taken cover by the doors, their service guns raised. The woman shot two more darts, which missed Angela and Leon as they ducked.

A gravelly, guttural moan joined the gunfire. Judge Presley, who'd collapsed on her stand, shakily clawed herself forward. Her skin had gone pallid, ashen. Her reading glasses clattered onto Wagner's desk. She sneered and hissed at Wagner, who backed onto the desk, as the pussy white globes of her eyes fixed upon him.

Oh, shit.

Presley dove onto him and dragged him screaming under the desk. The blond court reporter stumbled from her desk and shrieked as she backed into the corner.

A cacophony of moans permeated the benches. The bailiff and guards had struggled to their feet. Leon and Angela shifted their guns.

"The judge's door!" yelled the woman.

As Leon and Angela's bullets tore through the nearest guards, the woman raced past them, threw open the doors, and bolted. Leon yanked his head toward the doors. Angela nodded, and they ran after the woman.

Someone shoved Claire against the rail. The people who'd crammed onto the bench with her pushed away from an infected guard who stalked toward them.

Claire gathered her feet under her and leapt over the rail. She turned to help the man who'd been sitting beside her climb over, but he and the others were screaming and falling to the floor. The guard was climbing over the pile, tearing at random arms and feet and faces that he found. Another guard took the other end.

She climbed onto the defendant's table. It was the same all over the courtroom. The few attendees who escaped the piles rushed to the doors, where the bailiff grabbed them with crooked, bloody hands and dragged them to the floor.

A scream pierced her ears. Claire whipped around as Frederic and his lawyer threw the court reporter to Wagner and Judge Presley. The judge caught her and ripped off her cheek with foamy teeth. As the court reporter screamed again, Wagner shoved Presley, and she and the court reporter hit the ground. The lawyer and Frederic inched toward the judge's door, saucer-wide eyes fixed upon the shrieking, squirming mass of sickly flesh, blood, and stained clothes.

A cold, stiff hand grabbed her ankle. Moaning, the man who'd been sitting beside her on the bench yanked her toward his gnashing, bloodstained jaws. She lost her balance and toppled to the ground, pulling the man with her. She kicked him off, grabbed Frederic's chair, and swung hard. It smashed the man in the face, knocking him down.

The lawyer had grasped the doorknob and was ramming his shoulder against it. Presley and Wagner staggered to their feet and turned their murky eyes on the two men.

"Hurry up!" yelled Frederic.

Claire screamed, "Hey! Hey, over here!"

The zombies turned from Frederic and his lawyer and staggered toward her.

"That's right, keep coming," she said.

She wielded the chair, splayed legs out as though it were a spiked shield, and circled the slick of blood and gore that had been the court reporter. When she reached the stand, she set down the chair and hoisted herself into the stand. Presley and Wagner clawed at its lip as they climbed after her. She flipped the padded chair over the side, knocking them down.

A loud crack! thundered through the wall. The lawyer and Frederic had broken through the door. The lawyer offered his hand to Claire. She was about to take it when Frederic shoved him aside. The lawyer landed in front of her bench neighbor, who had crawled to them. With bloody, jerky hands, he grabbed the lawyer. Screaming, he slid free only to propel himself in the horde of infected now pouring over the rail. The first wave of zombies collapsed on him, burying him and his shrieks.

"You bastard!" Claire said.

But Frederic had already disappeared through the door.

Claire dropped to the floor and ran after him.