((vague quasi-spoilers under cut))The problem with being safety conscious to the point of paranoia; broken; crazy; and used to living in buildings with lots of locks, seals, and blood tests is that when you're dumped into a fairy wood where you're expected to live in a little unsecured cabin that's in a compound that thinks "a tall wooden fence and
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She noticed the very well-armed blonde kid when he showed up. She noticed which cabin he ended up in. She hasn't noticed him coming out of his cabin since then, much less talk to anyone, and by now, she's decided maybe she should check on him. If nothing else, someone should make sure he's still alive in there.
When she gets close enough to hear him talking - obviously to someone, but not to anyone she can hear - she pauses, and just listens until he goes quiet. Chances he's talking on his comm and she just can't hear the replies seem slim. But so are the chances that he's dangerous in a way she can't handle, so she steps forward and knocks on his door anyway.
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His first instinct is to whirl around to look at George for direction, but she has helpfully (or not-so-helpfully, in Shaun's opinion) disappeared. "U-uh... Just a second!" he calls out uncertainly, then hisses, "What the hell, George?"
Yeah, like I'm going to let you come across as even more insane to whomever has decided you're too much of a hermit. Just answer the door.
Shaun grumbles wordlessly to himself as he stalks to the door and yanks it open. "What?"
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"Mostly, I just thought someone should check to see if you were still alive. You've been holed up in here since you showed up."
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You used to be.
Shaun didn't respond, though he silently willed George to be quiet while he was talking to the very business-like woman in front of him. "Anyway, this place is sort of a death trap. All sorts of hidden corners, no defenses worth shit, and I've got a seriously limited supply of firepower, especially if there's not anywhere to get more ammo."
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"That's okay," Emily says with a flickering smile. "I'm pretty sure you're not the only one." She pauses, and then ventures slowly, "What're you expecting to need that firepower for? 'Cause... I've been here for a while, and nothing dangerous has ever gotten past the wall. I know it doesn't look like much, but..."
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Yet.
The blood suddenly drains from Shaun's face as he starts piecing together the "clearly there are not zombies here if we're still alive" knowledge with his knowledge of Kellis-Amberlee. There are no zombies here. But there is Kellis-Amberlee, because he's here. Universally-infecting, wildly contagious Kellis-Amberlee.
"Oh, fuck me."
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"...um. No offense, but I think I'll pass. What's wrong?"
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"This might sound a little insane, but back home, there was this virus, Kellis-Amberlee, that... reanimated any mammal larger than 40 pounds if it was infected when it died. Zombies, even though the CDC told us to call them... doesn't matter." Shaun runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. "Thing is, Kellis-Amberlee is universally infectious for mammals. And extremely contagious. Every mammal on the planet was infected, even if the smaller ones couldn't go into viral amplification."
He smiles crookedly and offers her his hand. "Hi, I'm Shaun Mason, and I have probably single-handedly made a zombie uprising inevitable."
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"Emily Prentiss. FBI." That's reflexive too, some reassurance - to herself as much as him - that even if viruses and zombies are not something she's trained for, she's at least capable of dealing with the information calmly. Assuming she believes it, which... she's not sure she does. "This is going to sound like a dumb question, but when you say zombies...?"
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How about inviting her inside? It's a bit dim, but it's not a pigsty and she can sit down. She might want to, the bomb you're dropping.
"Right. I knew that," he mutters under his breath, and glances sheepishly at Emily. "Uh, so, did you want to come sit down? I might be a crazy hermit, but I promise it's not too rank."
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Emily nods a little, with a faint smile. "Yeah, sure. I'm getting the sense this isn't a conversation I really want to have standing on your porch..."
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"And I guess there's no way to tell if we're all infected with what we've got here in the barracks, huh?" she sighs finally, still a little distracted as she considers what he just told her.
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He falls silent for a moment. "I mean, if anyone gets a cold, we could put everyone in a small, enclosed space for a few days. Try to infect everyone. If everyone gets a cold, even just minor sniffles, you'd know they don't have KA. But short of that..."
Because everyone getting sick is the best plan in the middle of this crazy, difficult-to-defend place.
"Well do you have any better ideas?" Shaun snaps before remembering that he's not actually alone anymore, and Emily is not as accustomed to his insanity as his team was back home. Part of him actually wants to play it down - at home, he didn't give a shit, but it wasn't exactly hard to point out that his sister had been murdered by the vice presidential candidate and that he was still dealing with that. Here... no one knows ( ... )
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She bites her lower lip, searching for a response, and finally just asks gently, "Who's George?"
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"Georgia," he says quietly. "She was my sister. My best friend. Pretty much the only person in the world I trusted to have my back no matter what. She was--" He hesitates on the word, because people back home seemed to shy away from calling it what it was, but it's the truth, so he barrels ahead. "She was murdered, about a year ago. I hear her, in my head. And have recently started seeing her, sometimes. Yeah, I am aware that I'm pretty much insane, by the way," he adds defensively.
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