(no subject)
[Who:] Pink Floyd and Nymphadora Tonks
[What:] Tonks arrives to escort Pink from the hospital. Then things go a little pear-shaped.
[When:] Day 7.
[Where:] Hospital; en route to Civilian base.
A day and some had passed since Pink's arrival, in a smear of black and white and red. His hand had begun to heal, medication had dulled his withdrawal symptoms to exhaustion, aching limbs and a stomach full of icy rocks (miserable, but better than the hell of cold turkey, by light years) and he'd begun to accept -- slowly -- that the situation, surreal as it was, was real, and he was trapped in this rotting shell of a city until one side or the other won this war. (Supposedly. To say he doubted that to be the truth was an understatement.) And while he'd at least managed to stay safe so far, in the only neutral ground in the city, he knew the situation couldn't last. The Nazi -- Johann, and it troubled him deeply that he thought of him by his first name -- had taken a liking to him, and every time he was around, Pink felt himself following his example, going cold and sharp inside. The wall going up, the hammers coming down. And he had to escape from that before it was too late.
It seemed that before the dead had risen, the separate sides had made trips here, to retrieve their new draftees. Not so much, since then. (At least, that he had been present for. Between errands and trying -- failing -- to sleep away the painful, opiate-free hours, he could have missed a chance or a dozen, easily.) Some of the draftees had left on their own, of course. But he wasn't a fool. (At least, not that kind of fool.) He couldn't fight. Couldn't run very well, either. He'd be torn to shreds before he made it out of sight of the hospital.
He'd considered calling for help, an 'extraction request.' But there was no privacy on the network, and if Johann saw, it would be as bad for him as the zombies. So instead, he watched the network and haunted the hallways near the exam rooms when he could, hoping to catch sight of someone he recognised as being from the Civilian side, who he could follow out of here.
[What:] Tonks arrives to escort Pink from the hospital. Then things go a little pear-shaped.
[When:] Day 7.
[Where:] Hospital; en route to Civilian base.
A day and some had passed since Pink's arrival, in a smear of black and white and red. His hand had begun to heal, medication had dulled his withdrawal symptoms to exhaustion, aching limbs and a stomach full of icy rocks (miserable, but better than the hell of cold turkey, by light years) and he'd begun to accept -- slowly -- that the situation, surreal as it was, was real, and he was trapped in this rotting shell of a city until one side or the other won this war. (Supposedly. To say he doubted that to be the truth was an understatement.) And while he'd at least managed to stay safe so far, in the only neutral ground in the city, he knew the situation couldn't last. The Nazi -- Johann, and it troubled him deeply that he thought of him by his first name -- had taken a liking to him, and every time he was around, Pink felt himself following his example, going cold and sharp inside. The wall going up, the hammers coming down. And he had to escape from that before it was too late.
It seemed that before the dead had risen, the separate sides had made trips here, to retrieve their new draftees. Not so much, since then. (At least, that he had been present for. Between errands and trying -- failing -- to sleep away the painful, opiate-free hours, he could have missed a chance or a dozen, easily.) Some of the draftees had left on their own, of course. But he wasn't a fool. (At least, not that kind of fool.) He couldn't fight. Couldn't run very well, either. He'd be torn to shreds before he made it out of sight of the hospital.
He'd considered calling for help, an 'extraction request.' But there was no privacy on the network, and if Johann saw, it would be as bad for him as the zombies. So instead, he watched the network and haunted the hallways near the exam rooms when he could, hoping to catch sight of someone he recognised as being from the Civilian side, who he could follow out of here.