Mark didn’t respond so James knelt down next to him, checking his pulse. He was alive. Noticing something lying beside him, James picked it up and showed it to his brother.
“Drugs,” Connor said, looking at the syringe. “That explains it.”
“Where would he get these?” James asked.
“He must’ve gotten ‘em from someone or had ‘em the whole time.”
“We need to tell Cpt. Miller so he can do something about it,” James said. “I don’t want the kids staying with a druggy.”
“I just don’t know how someone could do that.”
“It’s probably the only way he knows to cope with all this, but it doesn’t matter. Something has to be done.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll go tell Cpt. Miller,” James said. “Then we’re meeting for tattoos, right?”
“That’s the plan. I’ll grab Tank and meet you there.”
“Speaking of, does he seem weird to you today, like actually happy?”
“He does. We’ll have to ask him about it later.”
“Good, just wanted to make sure it wasn’t just me.”
“Nope,” Connor said.
“What should we do with Mark?”
“Just leave him. They can figure out what to do with him. He’ll probably be out for a while.”
Connor left, heading back to their place while James went to HQ to inform Cpt. Miller. He felt a little bad about turning Mark in. He was probably just doing the only thing he knew that helped him, but all James had to do was think of Olive and determination replaced those feelings. He’d do whatever he needed to do to protect her, even from someone who was just unhinged by the state of the world.
26
A
Sword and a Promise
Alexis sat behind her desk, hoping she’d get another excuse to go down to the supply closet. She knew being careful was necessary, but it was hard to just sit there and not see what was going on. She had to find out what was happening, even if it wasn’t something sinister. Although, if they were going to these lengths to make sure they weren’t found out, it was probably something less than reputable.
Now that she’d restocked all the rooms, organized the supply closet, and taken a complete inventory, there wasn’t much for her to do, so she spent the afternoon arranging the inventory on the tablet in a way that made it easy to find the different items. While she did that, she discreetly watched the two doctors. She didn’t know if they were in on all this secret stuff, but she was planning to find out.
Henry left his office a few times throughout the day but rarely left the second floor. He’d just go into the restroom at the end of the hall and then go back to his office. Dr. Hart, on the other hand, left his office fewer times, but every time he did, he went downstairs. Granted, there was also a restroom down there, but why not use the one up there like Henry did? Also, Henry kept his door closed sometimes, but Dr. Hart never left his door open and even went so far as to lock it when he left, even if just for a few minutes. That by itself was suspicious, not to mention the general vibe he gave off.
Just as she was thinking this, Dr. Hart exited his office and went downstairs in a rush, not taking the time to lock his office. She knew this was her best chance to gather some details. Standing, she walked over to the door but stopped short of going in when she heard people talking downstairs. It sounded like they were discussing something in harsh whispers. She slipped into his office before her courage could falter. Immediately, she went to his desk and started looking through the drawers without moving anything. There were the normal office supplies in most of the drawers, but at the back of one was an old keycard. It looked like the clip that attached it to the doctor’s lab coat had been broken. If her hunch was correct, this would get her into the basement. She snatched up the keycard, moving some of the papers inside to cover where it had been. If she was lucky, he wouldn’t even know it was gone. She quickly exited the office and shut the door behind her. She turned as Dr. Hart came up the steps, followed by two guards dragging one of the survivors from her group—Mark.
“What happened?” she asked quickly, hoping Dr. Hart hadn’t seen her coming out of his office.
“Down there,” Dr. Hart said, ignoring her question and pointing down the hall. “Last door on the right.”
The guards moved forward between her and the doctor, and she used the brief cover to slip the keycard into her back pocket.
“Dr. Nelson,” Dr. Hart said, “we have a new patient. Would you go prep him, Ms. Wolfe?”
“Yes, sir,” Alexis said, glad to have an excuse to be away from the man.
Following the guards, she heard Henry come out of his office.
“What happened?” he asked Dr. Hart.
“Narcotics,” Dr. Hart responded. “See if you can figure out where he got them. We don’t need this in our town.”
“Okay,” Henry said.
The two men took Mark into the last exam room and handcuffed him to the bed, just like they had Tank the night before. How had Mark found drugs and why would he take them? He didn’t seem like that kind of man. She remembered when he’d shared his story in the pole barn. He’d talked about going to jail, but she didn’t know why. Was it drug use? After he’d gotten out, he’d turned his life around and volunteered at the church. He’d been helping out with VBS when the outbreak happened. He had an older daughter who was still alive in California with his ex-wife. As far as Alexis knew, he hadn’t lost anyone close to him in the early days. He’d been one of the few who’d really opened up to the rest of them, sharing his entire life story. What had pushed him to do this?
After they’d handcuffed him to the bed, the two men walked out past Alexis.
“Be careful when he wakes up,” one of the men said to her. “We don’t know what he took.”
Alexis looked at him, shocked that he’d spoken. Usually these guys were the equivalent of a stone when it came to speaking or showing any sign of emotion. He was a little older than her, with light blue eyes and short blonde hair. There was a permanent smile on his face, which was probably why his nametag read “Smiles.”
“Thanks,” Alexis said as the other man grabbed Smiles and pulled him along.
He gave her a quick wink, then turned and followed the other man down the hall past Henry. Maybe they weren’t all bad.
“How is he?” Henry asked, walking in.
“Unconscious,” Alexis said, setting some items on a tray.
“Let’s check his vitals.”
~~~
James was the last one. He’d wanted to watch the others get their tattoos first so he could see how it went before he got his. Connor had “persevere” tattooed on his left forearm from when he’d gotten out of the Marines, but Tank and James didn’t have any tattoos yet. Tank had gone first, followed by Connor, and now James sat in the chair, excited but also anxious. He’d watched his brother’s reaction and could tell that getting the tattoo hadn’t felt good. And if Connor reacted like that, it’d probably hurt him a little more—not that the pain scared him. He just didn’t know what to expect.
“You ready?” Angel asked.
“Yep,” James said, taking a deep breath.
It was worse than he’d thought but also not as bad at the same time. Within thirty minutes, Angel was wiping the blood from James’s hand with a green soap mixture.
“What’d ya think?” Angel asked.
“That looks awesome,” James said, climbing out of the chair and looking down at the back of his right hand.
“Hands in boys,” Tank said.
They put their fists together, all three of their tattoos showing. They each had the wolf-like, three-headed Cerberus tattooed on the backs of their dominant hands, but had incorporated their own twists to the tats. On Tank’s, the three heads each had a spiked collar with a broken chain attached and pieces of shattered chains around the whole tattoo. Connor’s had an American flag flying be
hind the whole thing. James had a simple wooden cross rising behind his. The tattoos were similar, yet completely unique, just like the members of the Wolf Pack itself.
“That’s badass,” James said, looking at the tops of their hands.
“We’re cool like that,” Tank said.
“Hell yeah,” Connor said.
“If you guys are done ogling each other,” Angel said, laughing, “I’ll show you the upgrade I did to your truck.”
Angel took them outside the garage to where Scourge was sitting in his driveway. James gawked at the sight. Before, Scourge only had the gray Cerberus emblem on the front doors—like their tattoos only with more detail. Now, behind the three heads were streaks of red, white, and blue going all the way to the rear of the rig. Around the front tires and up on the hood there were loose chains that looked like the vehicle had broken free from being chained down, and there were flames streaking out behind the back tires. It was all a little over the top, making the vehicle look like something from a video game.
“It’s perfect!” James exclaimed.
“Dude,” Tank said, a huge smile on his face, “this is friggin’ sick!”
“Well done,” Connor said.
“How long did it take you to do this?” James asked.
“All day,” Angel said, a satisfied smile on his face. “I drew it up the last time Tank was in here. The plain emblem on the door was just sad. It needed a little somethin’ more.”
“We’re gonna be killin’ undead in style!” Tank said.
“Hell yeah,” James said.
“We can’t pay for this,” Connor said.
“No need,” Angel said. “I haven’t been able to work on somethin’ like this before. It was worth it just to put my mark on it.”
“You did one helluva job,” Tank said.
Walking around to the other side of Scourge, James saw that he’d painted the same thing on both sides. There was no way they’d get their rig confused with the other LAPVs now. After they were through gawking, Angel took them back inside and gave them each a piece of paper with directions on how to properly care for their new tattoos. They’d need to make sure to wash them and treated them like an open wound for the first few days, plus lotion the crap out of them. It wouldn’t be easy considering how things were now, but it would be worth it. It wasn’t just about them getting the tattoos together—although that was a big part—and it wasn’t even about the tattoos themselves or what they stood for. It was about living. It was about finding those small moments that kept them rooted in who they were. And it was about them remembering to live each moment as if it were their last, because it very well could be.
James realized all this on the way back to their place, and things began to fall together. He remembered something else he’d realized while chained to the front of the Hummer. He wasn’t in control. This was all beyond him, and he just had to trust and hope that there was more to life than killing and death. Why he needed to constantly be reminded of this every few days, he didn’t know, but just like on that hilltop, he began to feel better when he decided to let go and trust. Maybe that’s what it was with his episodes as well. He might be stuck with them forever, but he had to remember they couldn’t be something that controlled him and got people killed. They were just something he had to live with now and accept as part of reality.
Then again, all this might just be his mind’s way of trying to subconsciously cope with everything that was going on. But he wouldn’t worry about that. He’d do what he’d been doing with his faith for years. He’d set the questions aside and just trust.
~~~
Alexis sat in the exam room, watching Mark’s breathing as he lay on the hospital bed. He was alive, fairly healthy, and definitely high on something, but he should be fine once he woke. If he was lucky, this was a onetime deal and he wouldn’t have to go through any intense withdrawals. She was glad she’d been able to help with both Tank and now Mark. It made her feel like she was in the right place when she was able to help people. That was why she’d first decided to be a paramedic—to help others because she hadn’t been able to help her own brother.
That was a long time ago and she’d recovered from Mason’s death, but that didn’t mean it was all water under the bridge. That single moment in her life had rippling effects that could be felt all the way to the present. It’d been the driving factor behind the divorce, although she knew now that it had been inevitable. All of these things had pushed her to be who she was today, and she felt that she was honoring her brother’s memory by not letting his death be in vain.
Mark stirred, mumbling something under his breath. Alexis stuck her head out of the exam room door, calling for the doctor. A minute later, Dr. Hart walked into the room.
“He’s beginning to wake up,” Alexis said.
“Then we’ll ask him some question when he does,” Dr. Hart said, sitting down in a chair and wheeling it over to the bed.
Mark’s eyes opened and he looked around the room. “Where am I?” he asked.
“You’re in the infirmary, Mr. Trall,” Dr. Hart said.
“What?” Mark said, sounding frantic. “Why?”
“Because you were found passed out in an alleyway,” Dr. Hart said, “with a syringe of narcotics.”
Mark closed his eyes.
“Do you know what it is you took?” Dr. Hart asked.
“No,” Mark said.
“So it wasn’t yours?”
“No.”
“Explain.”
“It was from Randy’s stash. I didn’t realize how strong it was.”
“Randy?” Dr. Hart asked.
“He was one of the men from their original group,” Alexis said.
“What happened to him?” Dr. Hart asked.
“He… died,” Alexis said.
“More like your dad murdered him,” Mark said with an edge to his voice.
“Yeah, he did,” Alexis said, “right after he shot your leader.”
“I see,” Dr. Hart said.
“It just never ends,” Mark said. “And there’ll be more and more and more. It won’t ever stop.”
“Is that why you took the drugs?”
“Yes. There’s no escaping our fate.”
“Are there more drugs?”
“No,” Mark said in a rush.
“I don’t believe you.”
Mark glanced between Alexis and Dr. Hart with a pleading look on his face. “I just want to escape from all this. Is that so bad?”
“By itself, no,” Dr. Hart said. “But when you put the rest of us in danger, it is.”
“Then let me leave,” Mark said. “I’ll take everything with me.”
“Why would you want to?” Alexis asked.
“It was so much easier when we were on the move,” Mark said. “I can’t stand pretending like everything’s okay. It’s not okay! The world is ending outside these walls.”
“It’s not,” Dr. Hart said. “There are still quite a few safe cities like this one. You just experienced the worst of it.”
“That’s crap,” Mark said. “I bet the rest of the country looks just like what we’ve been through.”
“Why would they lie?” Dr. Hart asked.
“To keep people hopeful,” Mark said.
He had a good point. What if the rest of the country was like what they’d been through? The people in charge said the government was still intact and the east and west coasts were better off, but what if that was all a lie to keep them blissfully unaware? That would be something they would want to keep hidden at all costs. What if whatever was in the basement had something to do with that—something that showed they were all being lied to?
“You can believe what you wish,” Dr. Hart said. “All I need to know is where the drugs are.”
“I need those!” Mark said.
“Then I’ll have the soldiers confiscate all of your belongings and keep you here, or you can te
ll me and go free.”
“I need those,” Mark said in a whisper.
“So be it,” Dr. Hart said as he stood up and walked to the door. “You’ll stay here until we find them. Time to go, Ms. Wolfe.”
Alexis looked once more at Mark’s pleading eyes and walked from the room.
~~~
Tank walked down Third Street towards the mechanic shop. He didn’t know if Tom would be done with his sword yet, but he might as well check this evening before he went up to the saloon. James said they all should get together tonight since Chloe didn’t have to work. Just thinking about tonight made him realize more fully that they really might be able to make a life for themselves here—going out on runs during the day and then coming back and being safe at night. Yesterday had been a close call and there would always be the possibility of going out and never coming back, but being on the road was worse. There was only one problem they had to take care of—the Reclaimers.
The shop door was open even though it was after dinner. They probably worked long days there trying to strengthen the defenses of the town. The trailer that had been loaded with fencing was now gone. Were they double-layering the fencing around the town or taking it somewhere else? Walking into the shop, he saw Greg working on one of the Humvees. Greg glanced up as Tank walked in and nodded, going back to work. Tank didn’t know the guy well, but he’d seen him around a few times. There were various other men and women working on vehicles and other projects. Spotting Tom at the back of the shop, he walked over to him.
“Hey, Tom,” Tank said.
Tom grunted, working on attaching some sort of blade to the rim of a wheel. That would be awesome to have on Scourge. They would be able to mow down so many undead with those, taking their legs off at the knees, although it wouldn’t kill them unless they made a second pass. After Tank just stood there for a few minutes, Tom put the blade aside and looked up at him.
“What’d ya want, kid?” Tom asked.
“I wanted to see if Frostmourne was done yet,” Tank said.
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