I've never been a Christmas' person. Of course, I liked the traditions, the exchange of gifts, but everything in my family was always very formal about this festivity. My mom's family was spread across the country, so we were never really close. In my father's family, there was this split between my father and uncle Carlos that always made things a little awkward, especially because of Abuela, who didn't like to take sides with either of her sons. We celebrated Christmas in the Latino tradition, that is, at midnight, as we do on New Year's Day.
On 25th December, my parents used to go to the fellowship lunch at the hospital, and Abuela would attend the Christmas' dinner that was promoted by the church dedicated to the homeless and poor families. Depending on my mood for the day, I used to spend Christmas Day either with my parents at the hospital or with Abuela. I usually spent Christmas Day with Abuela, helping to serve supper for poor people. Quinn once called me a hypocrite for defending Lima Heights Adjacent when I never lived there. Literally, that was true, but Abuela was active in that community, and I knew and related to the people in that neighborhood more than I did my own. Mercedes Jones, per example, lived in the next street, and her father was my dentist. Still, we were never friends until we joined the school choir.
That Christmas time in the bunker, on the other hand, it needed to be special. Because it was the first Christmas that all of us would spend without people who were dear to us, and because it was also our first one as a family. I needed to do this for Brittany, who has always had a particular enthusiasm for the holiday. Mike, Rachel and I had already gone to the city several times and stuck our necks out to accumulate what we could about tools, ammo, car batteries, food, medicine (we weren't very successful on that last item, but we got something), cleaning supplies and even about Rachel's damn books. Honestly, I wasn't about to go back to all the zombies and reapers to get something silly and cute for Brittany. Because I had already done it. I had a wonderful gift for everyone that I picked up on our penultimate expedition to the city.
"Where are you going?" Brittany asked me when she saw me getting ready to leave the bunker.
"I'm going to talk to Joey."
One thing was certain about the apocalypse. Always (however much you want to keep it a secret or a surprise), it doesn't matter, always let them know where you're going. I didn't need to say what I wanted with Joey, but I should let everyone know where I am in case anything happened.
"I will go with you." Brittany had a pout that made her look adorable.
"I know, but this is something I have to do alone."
"Take someone with you, Santana." Mike warned me.
"But..."
"Rules are rules. We agreed. No one goes out alone. It's for our own safety."
"Mike..." I sighed deeply. "Could you accompany me?"
"It will be a pleasure."
Nobody elected Mike as our leader. It wasn't a democracy. He put himself into the role naturally, while I was left in this awkward second-in-command position. Nobody put me in that position either. Things just worked out that way. Quinn was the boss of everyone in medical situations; Brittany, Tina and Joe became the "gatherers", as they called themselves; Blaine and Sam became the fishing guys; and Rachel was our sniper who, in her spare time, put us all to study or liked to entertain us.
I kissed my girlfriend and waited for Mike to put on his boot so we could walk in the forest. There had been a blizzard the day before, and the landscape in the forest was white. We saw a family of bears in the distance and we left them alone, so they didn't bother us as well. Sometimes I wondered how these creatures managed to survive in the open woods with so many reapers around?
"What do you want with Joey?" Mike asked.
"I want her to teach me how to hunt." I answered plain and simple.
"We could have caught a bear back there."
"I won't kill a bear!"
"Why not?"
"I would never kill a bear unless it was absolutely necessary. It just seems wrong to me. Joey hunts deers. I already tried hunting them and it was a fiasco. When I want to kill them, they don't appear, but when I'm unprepared they appear? What hell is this? Joey knows how to hunt, and we need that too."
"Do you want a deer for Christmas?"
"Roasted and seasoned with salt and pepper. Maybe lemons. I saw a lemon tree and some apple trees in that neighborhood next to that school."
"Apple pie with a little cinnamon..." Mike dreamed. "My mom made apple pie every Christmas. It was her specialty. We would get together with people from the Korean community and have a huge feast."
"Did Tina and her parents go to these celebrations too?"
"No, not really." Mike sighed. "Tina's adoptive parents aren't Koreans."
"But doesn't she have Chang in her name?"
"Tina is Korean. Her biological parents died in an accident when she was a baby. So she was adopted by this couple who were very close friends with her biological parents. Steve Cohen-Chang is half Korean, actually, and Jane Cohen-Chang is American. Her older brother, who is the biological son of the Cohen-Changs, looks nothing like an Asian."
"I didn't even know Tina had an older brother!"
"They were never very close."
"It makes sense."
Mike was telling me about Tina and her family, and that just made me a little uneasy. Even after all this time together, I didn't know anything about the lives of my closest friends. I knew Finn and Kurt's parents because I lived with them for a few months at the island. Obviously, I knew Brittany's strange family. But I never wanted to know about anyone else's past life. I knew absolutely nothing about Joe other than that he was a hippie Christian who sang well. Quinn had a red neck family. I knew things about Rachel because she made a point of telling even those who didn't want to listen. Sam's parents were unemployed and in dire financial straits for a while until his dad got a job in Fort Wayne. Sam, for some very odd reason, chose to leave his family to move back to Lima as Blaine's roommate. And Blaine was a rich guy who went to the best prep school in Ohio, who transferred to a public school in Lima because of his needy, whiny, complaining boyfriend. That said a lot about Blaine's personality: as deep as a saucer. That was all I knew of my friends... my new family.
I realized how bad this was, because it distanced me emotionally from others. We needed to know each other's stories better. I realized that I was also very closed off about talking about my own family. I mean, all my friends got along with my mom and abuela for months, but the things they knew about me came from the stories my mom told and not from myself.
It took about an hour to walk to Joey's house. We approached the fence interspersed with walls that involved the houses. We announcing ourselves, with our hands up. Hannah recognized me and called out for her mom and someone else named Pacey. Soon, three men and four adult women, one of whom was Joey herself, appeared in front of the fence with weapons in their hands.
"Hi Joey… everyone." I looked a little apprehensively at the others. "I'm Santana, your new neighbor."
"I remember you, Santana. How are you?"
"I'm fine, thank you."
"And this boy? Another boyfriend?"
"Boyfriend? No! Brittany is my girlfriend. This is Mike Chang, my friend who is living with us in the bunker."
"What are you doing here, Santana?" A man asked me.
"I need your help… I need you to teach me how to hunt… please?"
Joey looked at the men and they smiled. The one called Pacey stepped forward and studied us.
"Are you sure you're willing to learn how to track an animal, shoot it, gut it, skin it, dismember it, smoke it, and salt it?"
"Look, this apocalypse shit has been going on for almost eight months. I don't know what you grown men think about others, but I tell you, you wouldn't stand a chance with me on a good day. I've killed zombies, reapers, I've faced all kind of people: merchants, militiamen, good guys, bad guys… I've blown things up. I could learn to hunt without any help, but that would take time and a lot of reading in the manuals Rachel stole from the library. As I am kind of tired of eating fish and snakes, so I thought you might help your new neighbors by being kind enough to speed up this learning. Unless you so have poise and no competence."
"Well…" Pacey frowned. "Before you want to hunt bambi's moms, you need to learn how to do the basics with smaller things."
Pacey opened the gate and let us in. The houses inside this kind of condominium were almost normal. I noticed that there were large iron windows with bars, which could have been put in even before the wall and fence were built. Apparently, all the houses were occupied. There were solar panels on the roofs, and it reminded me a lot of the Olivers' farm. Maybe if we managed to put in some solar panels, we wouldn't worry so much about fixing car batteries. We noticed that behind that enclosure there was a second one, which we hadn't noticed before. They built a wall and fences in an open area, which involved only one house. I imagined that the train line that separates the two parts has to do with this division, after all, it would be really stupid to build something on top of the tracks. Will someone activate a train and go through there?
Pacey and Joey unlocked the gate to the second paddock, which was a larger area but with few buildings. There was a small greenhouse, a planting area, a chicken coop, three dogs. There was a cute little house, and another one that looked more like a small barn. There were two horses there, and they were locked in the stable. The dogs were friendly, and they circled us for a pet.
"This is literally my ranch." Pacey explained. "When the zombies and gollums started appearing, I had to release some of my animals and leave them to fend for themselves. Still, I managed to keep the ones you are seeing here."
Joey petted one of the horses. Pacey took us to the chicken coop, and they must have had at least 20 chickens in there, and two roosters.
"We only kill on special occasions, or when we need to control the chicken coop population. Older chickens go to the pot. See the one with the black feathers on her neck? She is currently the oldest chickenaround. Have you ever killed a chicken before, Santana?"
"No…but I already fished. I can shoot too."
"It's very difficult to establish some kind of bond with fish. Killing a warm-blooded animal for food is very different from killing a zombie or a fish. You have to respect it. There is an ethic. That creature will suffer, it will give its life so that you can eat and live. That chicken has laid many eggs for us, has already hatched and raised her own chicks. It's her turn now."
"Are you sure?" I looked at Joey and then at Pacey.
"Go in there and specifically get that chicken. If she sees that her turn has come, she will run. Then move your legs."
I entered the chicken coop and went after the chosen one. The chickens were tame, until sudden movements were made. On my first try, the chicken ran away, and I nearly fell flat on my face. Pacey told me so, because I had to sweat a bit to get that specific chicken. I held her between my hands and I confess that I felt sorry for her. Pacey took us to the barn, and there was a tank inside.
"There are two ways to kill a chicken. Either you can cut the neck, or you can be quicker and more merciful. The first way you collect the blood to cook. In the second way this is no longer possible."
I don't want to describe what I did, but yes, I ended that animal's life quickly, and I confess that I almost cried. My stomach fluttered. Pacey told me to thank that chicken for its life, and I confess that looking at that dead animal in front of me and asking for forgiveness was a little comforting. Not much, but it was a necessary exercise. Pacey instructed me on how to open the belly and reach in to extract the organs. There were those that we can eat: the gizzard, the liver, the heart, the incompletely formed eggs. These I could separate and cook along with the rest of the chicken.
"This is the first step after killing such an animal. It's important to do this at the place of death. I usually leave this content in the bush as a tribute to the other animals in the forest."
Pacey made me put the guts in a grinder, and I think that thing came out of a plumbing pipe somewhere.
"And now?"
"With birds, you know what to do."
Yes... remove the feathers. Pacey handed me a knife and I did the job. It took me almost an hour, but I plucked the chicken. Then I gathered them all together and put them in a bag to be thrown away later.
"And now?"
The next step was to smoke and burn the chicken skin to avoid flies.
"And now you can take that chicken home and feed your family. It's a Christmas gift between neighbors."
"But what about hunting?"
"Come back tomorrow as early as possible. I don't promise you that we're going to kill a deer, but I promise to teach you how to spot the signs. You need to understand that there are a lot of edible things in the forest. There are many snakes that make delicious soup."
"Snake soup… I've never tried this. Sam and Blaine brought two snakes. They aren't very big, but we ate them roasted on the fire. It's not bad."
"Yeah, but you should try the soup. I've been in Vietnam, and I can say that the snake soup they make is amazing. The meat is not very interesting to me, but the soup is fantastic."
"Did you try it too?" She asked Joey.
"Yes, it was our honeymoon trip." Joey said hugging Pacey.
"Vietnam?"
"Going to Hawaii or the Bahamas is cliché and expensive." Joey said with a smile on her face. "I worked at a small publishing house in Boston, and Pacey had a restaurant. I liked to travel for inspiration and Pacey to get to know these typical foods from different places."
"Boston? Seriously? How did you end up in Ohio?"
"Pacey came over to inspect a branch of the restaurant that he opened in Columbus. The manager of the restaurant took us to know the region and we saw that this ranch was for sale. As we fell in love with the area and this forest, we bought it with the intention of being a kind of summer vacation home. Hannah had always been a very shy child, and when she was here, it felt like she found herself in the world. Eventually we moved to Ohio because of her. Hannah hated Boston and she was bullied at school. We bought a house in Columbus, I started my own publishing company based in Ohio, and we've been here for three years. When everything happened, the first thing we did was put things in the car and we came here. The ranch was the first place to be fenced with the wall. Afterwards, we helped our neighbors to fence off their houses."
"So, you still live at this ranch house?"
"Yes."
"And the animals? Don't they attract zombies?" Mike asked.
"It's odd, but they are completely silent at night. Dogs bark when there are zombies at our gate." Pacey explained. "And you? How did you guys end up here?"
"Long story. We are from Lima. I was in Columbus at a school choir competition with Mike, Brittany and the rest of our friends. My father was a doctor, and he was called to the emergency room at the hospital when the attack took place. From there he kept giving news to my mother, until he told us to leave the city. Most of my choir friends and my girlfriend came with me to my uncle's house in Lakeview. We stayed there in relative safety for months until an island resident became infected and said nothing to anyone. You can imagine the damage. My mother died because of it. We were forced to leave Lakeview, and since then we've been trying to find a safe place, running away from reapers, zombies and militia. The bunker was our best find. I can't believe we managed to find it."
"We met the owner of the bunker. He wasn't exactly a nice person to have in the neighborhood. One day he stopped by and said he was going south to hunt and would be back in a week at most. Well, it's been a good few months since his gone." Pacey told us the story which was very similar to what Joey had told before. "I hope we don't have any problems with you guys."
"You won't." Mike stated. "We are here for peace. We just want to survive, like everyone else, but we have boundaries."
"A little present for you." Joey gave us three long leaves, similar to chives.
"What is that?"
"Bite the tip."
When I bit into it, my eyes widened. It was garlic. It wasn't even Christmas and we were going to eat chicken stew with a little salt, pepper and a fresh garlic leaf. That was a good dream. Pacey and Mike shook hands and we left after noon, with an old, plucked chicken in a bag and three garlic leaves for seasoning.
"I don't even know how to pay them for it." I mentioned it to Mike on the way back home. "They look like they have everything they need."
"We can pay them." Mike smiled.
"How?"
"I don't know. Maybe we could do that one thing Rachel Berry would love to coordinate."
"Singing Christmas carols on their doorstep? I prefer death."
Mike smiled and pushed me slightly just to make fun of me. We walked in silence back to the bunker with the layer of snow already covering our feet. Those boots were suitable for walking in the woods, but not necessarily for walking in the white woods. My feet were getting rather uncomfortable cold. When we approached the stream, already close to our bunker, a muffled scream caught our attention. I was still reluctant to check what it was. Perhaps, under normal circumstances, I would ignore it. But we were too close to home and that area should only have us.
Mike and I communicated through looks and gestures (Rachel was right about how important was to learn sign language). I went straight following the screams, and Mike went around. I put the chicken on the ground and cautiously approached with my revolver in hand. When I got close enough to see what was going on, I saw two strange men hitting someone. They were hitting Brittany. I saw red! My girl was struggling, while that son of a bitch ripped her clothes off, and the other one pulled his pants down and started jerking off. I stopped thinking. My heart raced so fast I don't know how I didn't have a heart attack. I was no longer a person, I was an adrenaline-based chemical compound that just reacted without thinking. I shot the guy who threw her to the ground and was going to lie on top of her. I shot him because that bastard wouldn't do anything else. The other guy fell to the floor. Shot in the back... by Mike. He landed holding his penis in the snow.
I ran to my girlfriend. She was bleeding from her lips, her bruised face was already getting swollen. Brittany must have fought like a lioness to get beaten up like that. Brittany's clothes were ripped apart from the waist up. I noticed that her body was scratched and bruised from the fight.
"Britt…" I cupped her face. I didn't know who was crying more, her or me. "That monster..."
"No… he didn't…it was almost… you saved me. You saved me!" Brittany wept openly and all I could do was hug the woman of my life. "Quinn." She said. "We need to save Quinn."
It was all Brittany said. I saw Mike's panicked expression, and he started running, screaming for Quinn. I stayed there a little bit comforting my girl, not wanting to believe it but wondering exactly what could have happened to my friend. The guy I shot groaned loudly.
"You whores..."
I looked at that pathetic figure trying to get up.
"You know, Brittany. Today I learned to kill a chicken..."
I kicked the guy in the face, and he fell her back in the ground. I saw that he was reaching for his gun, so I didn't let him. I kicked him in the balls as hard as I could, and when he writhed in pain, I pulled his head by the hair and ran the knife across his neck. All the pity and revulsion I felt for killing a chicken, I felt absolutely nothing for making that bastard bleed to death.
"George?" I saw a third man approaching, to find out what happened.
On instinct I pushed Brittany behind a tree with a hard push. We heard a shot in the distance and that caught the attention of this other man, giving us a second lead. I shot without hesitation, and killed the second human in less than ten minutes. I heard another shot, and another and another. I started to fear for Mike. I took Brittany's hand and led her through the forest. She was paying attention to the footprints, wanting to see where Mike possibly went. It was a relief when we found Mike and Quinn. Not just them. Rachel and Sam were there too, standing, rifle in hand. They were alive, and two men were dead.
"Quinn?" I asked Mike, not her directly because I was too afraid to know what really happened right there.
"They hurt her badly." Mike lifted Quinn onto his lap and walked back to the bunker.
"Rachel?" I looked at my friend. My voice came out so low and shaky, I don't know how she managed to hear or understand me.
"We heard the shots." She explained. "Quinn and Brittany went out to get water from the stream because our pipe is frozen. I went outside with Sam after some minutes to help Britt and Quinn. That's when we heard the shots and I knew something was wrong. Tina, Joe and Blaine are protecting the bunker.
"Quinn and I decided to walk and when we saw people moving, we thought it was you." Brittany explained in a low voice, almost like a little girl embarrassed about breaking her mother's Chinese vase. "It wasn't you."
"Sam and Rachel, get these bastards guns. Then go back to the bunker. We need to take care of Quinn and Brittany now." I commanded even if my voice came out weak. "And don't forget the chicken."
"Chicken?" Sam frowned.
"A plucked chicken that is inside a green plastic bag."
"And the corpses?" Sam asked.
"Leave it to the forest and the reapers. Then we burn what's left." I said with hatred.
"They are too close to the bunker." Sam said. "Their group could be bigger."
I thought for a moment and nodded.
"Do as I said."
...
Our men were outside protecting the perimeter. So it was just us women in the safety of the bunker. Brittany was fine. She got beat pretty hard and had a black eye, but she was fine. Quinn got beat a lot. It wasn't just Brittany who fought against those monsters, Quinn also tried to defend herself, but two men against a woman doesn't make for a fair fight. We weren't afraid to get into a fight, we knew how to kick, punch, bite, use all kinds of dirty tricks, but none of us were martial arts fighters to take down two guys twice our weight. This is reality and not something we see in girl power films. In the real world, if a woman hasn't had years of self-defence training, she'll probably lose in a fist fight against a man. She would lose anyway against a man twice her weight. These are facts.
Brittany was "lucky" because Mike and I arrived at just the right moment to stop it. Quinn didn't get the same luck. When we got to the bunker, Tina immediately put the snow she collected to melt in the wood cooker. When we had a good amount of warm water, we wash Quinn and Brittany with sponges in the bathroom. Brittany was fine, despite the bruises, but Quinn had a sore vagina from the forced penetration, and she also had a punctured hand. In order to keep her quiet, the guy pierced her hand with the knife. This is to give you an idea of how hard she tried to fight, and how brutal those guys were.
I cleaned the hole in Quinn's hand as best I could with every resource in the bunker. While Rachel cleaned Quinn up, and Tina took care of Brittany, I disinfected and pressed her wound. It took a while for the blood to start to stop, but in the meantime, Rachel cleaned and dressed Quinn. We had some panty liners and tampons in stock at home. I had menstrual cups in my backpack, which was the Christmas present I was going to give the girls. In Quinn's case, we thought the panty liner would be better than putting an object inside her right after she was violated. We put a clean sheet on the bed (yes, we had sheets and blankets at that point), and Quinn lay down. I didn't ask anything, I didn't want to know the details of the story at that moment. The details I needed to know were etched right there in the bruises on Quinn's body and my girlfriend's as well. When the blood clotted, I did my part. I disinfected Quinn's wound and stitched it up. As soon as I finished the bandage, Quinn lay on her side and she was quiet. I covered her with the blanket, kissed her cheek.
"I love you." I whispered in her ear and left her alone. Or at least as alone as you could leave someone in that bunker.
The boys knocked on the door. I really didn't expect it, but Joe found the bag with the chicken and garlic leaves. Tina and Joe dismembered the old chicken, skinned it, and cooked it with whatever spices we had on hand. We were going to have a great dinner that day, but that didn't matter anymore.
"I'm going to town tomorrow." I said with determination.
"It's risky. More of those people might be there." Mike warned.
"Quinn needs medicine." I insisted.
"You tried the pharmacy that day. It didn't get much done and you almost got caught by a zombie."
"We didn't try the hospital."
"The hospital is in ruins."
"Mike." Tina interrupted. "I'm going with Santana."
"Tina, it's dangerous and you don't handle weapons very well." Mike insisted.
"Mike." Tina was stubborn. "It's important to find medicine for Quinn. You would never understand."
Mike was silent for a moment and nodded.
"Santana, Rachel and I are going into town tomorrow. The rest of you please refrain from going out. Our priority is our own safety right now."
...
I really wanted to get up and go in the opposite direction I was going and learn to hunt with Joey and Pacey. Unfortunately hunting techniques would be for another day. That unexpected mission was much more important. We walked through the forest carefully and in absolute silence. We weren't looking for it, but we found a camping gear in front of one of the cabins in the woods, on the outskirts of Logan. We were cautious when checking the hut and saw that it was empty. The fireplace was filled with ashes and coals, and the temperature of it was still from lukewarm to cold, in a sign that it had gone out not long ago. There were two small dirty pots lying around, a few cans of canned soup, plates, some cutlery, liquor bottles, sleeping bags. We knew that all that was recent, because none of this was there four days ago.
"Those guys must have camped out here." Rachel stated the obvious.
"How many sleeping bags are in this place?" Mike asked.
I looked quickly at the floor and counted.
"Apparently there are six sleeping bags." I replied.
"We eliminated five guys yesterday." Mike said.
"Okay, one got away, but I won't look for him now. Quinn comes first."
"I know, Santana. Even we don't have the experience to track people. But all care is little. In addition to reapers and zombies, there might be a guy out there who might not be a good person."
"What should we do here, with these things I mean?" Rachel asked.
"Burt it all!" I said. "Let's leave that son of a bitch without any resources."
We were ten minutes behind schedule. Mike, Rachel and I gathered up everything we'd found at the campsite and piled it inside the hut. We set fire to everything and left.
We decided to move on. The city was less than a 20-minute walk away. We cross the already familiar pedestrian bridge. The town was covered in snow, and we hadn't seen any signs of reapers since winter intensified. But zombies were beings that were already dead, that rotted every day and that didn't care about heat or cold. Not to mention every reaper that died became a zombie a few hours later. That's why I had the impression that that crap from the gates of hell never ended. We had to be extra careful, especially since there was snow. We had to be very subtle to reach the hospital, which was partially destroyed. It would be impossible for us to find medicine in a ward buried under rubble, so the hope was that the hospital pharmacy would be in the half that was still standing.
We entered the building very carefully. There were a few bodies lying around, of people who must have been dead for months, perhaps since the time the civil war in Logan happened. Rachel pointed to an aisle, drawing our attention to it: emergency room. We pushed the door and saw three zombies inside. Mike and I acted fast, he with the knife and I with the spear. Rachel brought up the rear, as usual. We eliminate them by making as little fuss as possible. Good thing those zombies were already the slow type, that is, the type that had been dead for a long time. There was a nursing cubicle and an adjacent medicine room. Rachel opened a drawer, and there was an important supply of gauze and ball-shaped cotton. We put the material in our bag, such as the suturing equipment, alcohol and serum. The medicine ward was overrun. We found some bottles of common medicines, such as omeprazole, paracetamol, benzetacil, plasil and blood pressure control pills. We take the remaining vials, as well as syringes and surgical gloves. All of this could be useful, sure, but it wasn't what I was looking for. There was a refrigerator in that room, where nurses store medications that need to be kept at a cold temperature, such as certain types of vaccines. It wasn't really worth checking, because whatever it was, it was already spoiled.
"It's not here…" I said in a whisper as I tried to find the medicine Quinn needed.
"What is not here?" Mike asked.
"Levonorgestrel."
"What is that?"
"Pill of the next day. Quinn needs to have one."
It was frustrating it not to be there at the medication handling station. We needed to find the prescription drug room, which was where they used to keep the good stuff people stole to deal. I walked the corridor which was blocked by rubble at the end of it. Fortunately, I found the door I wanted, as it was the only one there that had a numerical code to unlock it. It's not that the hospitals were standardized, but there were certain similarities in all of them, which allowed professionals to work in them without being so lost. Numeric lock doors used to be where you kept the good stuff. I looked out the door window and saw medicine, but I also saw four reapers, which was the sign that the lock no longer worked. I showed the problem to Mike. The fact is that if we started shooting, we would be in danger of waking other reapers and zombies because of the noise. I looked at Rachel, who was watching our backs, and I asked her to come over. So I pointed to the problem.
Mike considered an alternative. Point one, the room was very small. Point two, fresh blood spilled from the reaper was potentially contagious. If their fresh blood came into contact with your body secretions, you were gone. Point three, you couldn't finish them off silently, like we managed to do with the zombies. Because the reaper reacts so quickly, you could kill one with a knife or a spear, but the one immediately next to you would get you.
Rachel then had an idea. There were masks, goggles, surgical gloves and, mainly, surgical gowns in a cabinet in the prescription drug room. To minimize any risk of contagion from blood spilled from reapers, all we had to do was dress like we were going to walk into the ER. And that's what we did, although it was a little awkward putting all that gear on top of the clothes we were wearing. After put on the surgical clothes and went back to the medicine room with reapers. Mike pointed to who should shoot whom and did the silent count. One, two, on three Mike opened the door, we shot at the same time and there was no time for those animals to react. And yes, blood splattered, and if not for protection, we could have been in trouble. Mike closed the door immediately, and we found ourselves inside a small room, crouched down, with dead reapers at our feet, fallen shelves, fallen medicine bottles, and a bunch of zombies that entered that corridor, attracted by the noise of the shots.
I started digging through the fallen vials between the reapers' bodies and on the shelves. Someone had already cleaned it up, as there wasn't much left. While Rachel and Mike held the door from walkers trying to push it open, I went looking for the medicine Quinn needed. I couldn't find the levonorgestrel, but there was a bottle of misoprostol. I put the misoprostol and also an antiallergic in my pocket, and looked a little further for levonorgestrel.
"Please, please, please…" I repeated softly as I read the names of the medications that were still left in that room. Like I said, someone cleared it out, probably a junkie, and there's not much left.
"We're going to have to get out through the ceiling, on top. The door is out of the question." Mike said.
Mike grabbed a shelf and placed it against the door. That gave us time to drop another shelf and Mike shot the ventilation grate to make it fall. First, we helped Rachel, then I went up, and finally Mike. We walk through the most reinforced part of the ceiling, used precisely for maintenance. The place was cramped, dark, full of cobwebs and thick dust. The view we had was only clear when we pass by a big ventilation grid, so we evaluated whether or not that was the best place to go down. Mike indicated a point that seemed to be the beginning of the corridor, already close to the exit door. We take off the grate and agree to go down there. This time Mike was the first to went down. Then I went down and I went on alert because zombies were approaching, attracted by the noise we made. Rachel come down with the bag. Mike started shooting so we had time to run.
The three of us opened the hospital door and kept running, attracting some zombies along the way. We ran into the forest that was immediately ahead. It wasn't our side of the forest. Our side was south. That was the northern part of the forest, which we had no idea how to navigate in it. We just move on. We only slowed down when we saw that the zombies were left behind. We must have run further into the forest, and when we realized it, we had arrived at the cemetery. It was a relief, because from there we knew how to get our way back. Right there in the cemetery, we dispose of contaminated hospital clothes. Rachel got out a bottle of alcohol for us to rub not only on our hands and faces, but also the bottles I got from the prescription drug room.
"We still have time to grab something before we head back." Mike showed us the watch.
"I'd rather going home." I said.
"I don't know if we can find the medicine in one of these houses, Santana. Let's check out." Mike insisted.
"It would be like winning the lottery, Mike." Rachel reinforced the counter-argument.
"But what if we win?"
On our visits to the city, we had already gone into schools, restaurants, commercial stores at least once. We hadn't checked any of the houses yet. Mike decided to got into one of them, at random. We found it empty, without reapers and without zombies, because the door was locked. The family that once lived there left the city, and we could see that by the absence of the car in the garage and the absence of photo frames. It was a house with a piano, and Rachel was immediately enchanted by the amount of sheet music that existed there. Mike and I were more pragmatic. We take what's left in the pantry, we don't find any weapons other than kitchen knives nor the medicine Quinn needed. There was a teenager in that house, and it was right in his room that we found condoms and also something that lit up Mike's face: board games. We chose a deck of cards and a domino, because the boxes were small and fit in our backpacks. It was when we returned home and entered our part of the forest that we felt most comfortable to start talking.
"Quinn will be relieved when she sees we're taking that morning-after pill." Mike was happy.
"Only we're not having one. I haven't found any of those."
"No?" Rachel grabbed my arm. "But I thought you found one. You took the medicine with conviction."
"Yes, a misoprostol."
"What kind of medicine is this?" Mike was curious.
"It's an abortifacient." I confessed.
"Oh no, San!" Rachel kicked a mound of snow onto the ground in anger. "Quinn is Christian and totally pro-life. She will never take this kind of medicine."
"I'm not planning on tell her what kind of medication it is. We can give her a pill in two weeks, we shouldn't say what it is and that's the end of it."
"You can't decide for her, San." Mike was irritated and with good reason. "You don't have that right."
"But what if she gets pregnant? She has been pregnant before and it was a trauma. She had a beautiful baby that was given up for adoption because she didn't have the slightest psychological condition to raise a child. Imagine if she gets pregnant again, has that child and rejects it? There are no more adoption agencies functioning in this world. I wouldn't mind if Tina got pregnant, or even you, Rachel. Because I know you guys are more mentally stable than Quinn Fabray."
"San..." Rachel grabbed my hand. "I know you love Quinn, because I love her too. I know you only want the best for her. I agree that Quinn doesn't always manage her emotions very well. Still, it's she who will decide."
Rachel was absolutely right. The rational side of me didn't question it for a second. It was my emotional side that was in conflict over the matter. I've taken morning after pills before, but I've never had to take misoprostol because I was lucky, I guess. This abortive medicine was known among the cherrios. I know of at least two who chose to take it.
"So Quinn knows what it is?"
"Yes, Rachel, Quinn knows what this is about." I sighed.
"Then, we show her the medicine and let her decide."
We continue our route back to the bunker. We were silent because, although our visit to the city had been decent in terms of finding provisions, we had failed in our main objective. I was in a worse emotional state, because the plan for this campaign was all mine, and I didn't get what I wanted.
On the way, after passing the huts, including the one we burnt down (the falling snow put out the fire, but there was still a lot of smoke), we saw something strange. Remember when I said I wasn't a tracker? No, and because I didn't have any experience I had to be blind to obvious signs that someone had been out there. I showed Rachel and Mike the footprints in the snow, and using hand gestures, we split up. Mike went one way and Rachel and I went the other. We knew there were remnants of the group of men who attacked Brittany and Quinn. I put the bag on the ground to move with more agility. We followed the tracks and found an older man standing in ambush for the bunker. Rachel fired a warning shot as I approached cautiously to the man, knowing that Rachel and possibly Mike were on my back.
"Sir." I introduced myself. "It's not very polite to spy on people's doorsteps, especially mine."
The man turned to me, and he lowered his gun. I didn't do the same and I had my revolver still raised.
"I'm looking for my boys." He said. "We are hunting in the region."
"Your boys are not here anymore."
"May I know the reason?"
"Your boys found two of my girls and assaulted them. They raped one of them. We had to take action."
The man seemed to think for a moment, and he looked very frustrated.
"Was it all of them?"
"Understand one thing, sir. We are peaceful people, but we are not defenseless. What your... boys did was hateful, horrendous, and it made us react."
"Are you going to kill me like you killed them, with no right of defense?"
"Sir, that wasn't an argument, it was flagrant."
"You are of peace, but you kill. A pussy can be healed, a life cannot be brought back. Those were good kids and you took their lives."
"I said we are for peace, sir. I didn't say we were good people, and for what they did, your boys aren't in heaven either."
"Perhaps. What's a whore like you going to do now. Are you going to kill me too?"
"No, a whore like me will give you two alternatives. Go away and live another day to be a misogynistic asshole, or do something stupid and join your boys. I hope you chose the second option, so my friends can just shoot you. We can burn your body in the same place we burned your boys."
The guy made a brusque gesture, as if he wanted to test me, scare me. Then Rachel fired one more warning shot, to make it clear that I wasn't alone there. The man straightened up, picked up his gun and slung it over his shoulder. He walked away from our bunker, when he passed a relatively safe distance from me, he stopped, looked at me with absolute contempt, and spat on the ground at my feet. He left mumbling a bunch of curse words, maybe the entire repertoire he knew. Mike, Rachel and I followed him in a safe direction until our time limit, then we headed back to the bunker as the sun set.
We returned home and noticed that the atmosphere was still very tense. Quinn was still lying on the bed and Brittany signed that she had been like this all day. We showed the group our new acquisitions, the little food and cleaning products, the board games that excited everyone, as it was a good pastime, the medicines we got and the medical materials. Brittany said that our salt supply was low and that we would need more packets soon. The boys would also have to start cutting down trees for firewood and they discussed which region they should explore for it.
While the boys discussed how and where they should get firewood, and Joe finished making our food for the day, I grabbed the medicine bottle and called all the girls over to talk to Quinn. We sat on top of the bed around her. Quinn was slowly and reluctantly sitting up as well. It was evident that she was in pain. I held her injured hand, checked the bandage. It was necessary to clean the area and change the bandage, and that's what I did. Then I rubbed some salve on Quinn's face as well as Brittany's to help de-puff and heal. Tina offered the plate of canned soup that Joe had just made and a not very appetizing homemade bread made by Tina.
"No, thank you." Quinn was reluctant.
"No food, no painkillers. You choose." I did a little blackmail, but it was necessary.
Quinn started to drink her soup. I drank my cup of soup and ate my piece of bread. We all eat together. I confess I couldn't look at the damage on Quinn's and Brittany's faces without feeling anger and regret for not having killed that old man. I felt that the act of benevolence could take a toll. About the other two I killed, honestly, I didn't feel any remorse.
Quinn ate it all, and as a prize, she got the painkiller. It wasn't a very efficient one, but at least it helped. So I got down to the touchy subject.
"Quinn... I searched the city for a box of morning-after pills, but unfortunately I didn't find any."
"The hospital is partially destroyed." Rachel added. "It's been looted before, so there's not much left... but we brought what we could."
"I understand." Quinn sounded disappointed.
"But I have a plan." In fact, the idea had just come to me at that point, and I made it sound like I'd been thinking about it for a long time. "Tomorrow I'm going to Joey's house to ask if she has this medicine. If someone sacked the city before us, it's very likely they were part of it, so there might be something in their stash. I'm going to take some medication that we have to exchange. You can take this medicine within 72 hours, so we still have time."
"It's a good idea." Rachel flashed a hopeful smile, but Quinn didn't look too optimistic. "I will definitely go with you. I really want to meet this Joey. It's important that we get to know our neighbors."
"That is a possibility. But if Joey doesn't have it, there's a plan B." I picked up the bottle of misoprostol and showed it to Quinn. "I know you know what this medicine is, and I know you're pro-life, but consider this: this is still Ohio and under pre-apocalypse laws, it was still legal to abort before the sixth week in rape and incest cases. If we don't get the medicine from Joey, think about it. You can take the medicine if you don't menstruate."
"Of course you don't have to make this decision now." Rachel held Quinn's good hand. "There is still time to think and mature the idea."
"Thanks. I would like to lie down now."
Rachel kissed Quinn on the cheek and we left her alone, as far as you could leave anyone alone in the bunker. What I did know was that I was weary with fatigue. I stared at Rachel and knew she was exhausted too. It was another busy day, full of events... I thought that the proximity of Christmas would make for perfect boring days. But all we've done in the last 48 hours is exercise the new law of the apocalypse: live, die, run.