Night 58: Main Hallway, 1-East
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The last stretch of hallway was even emptier than the previous one. Maybe people had learned to avoid the medical wing after last night. By all rights, she should have done the same.
Brushing that thought away, she glanced back at Kratos. "I did manage to explore part of the wing before night ended, though. Did you?"
The last stretch of hallway was even emptier than the previous one. Maybe people had learned to avoid the medical wing after last night. By all rights, she should have done the same.
Brushing that thought away, she glanced back at Kratos. "I did manage to explore part of the wing before night ended, though. Did you?"
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There were more people milling in the halls than he expected. What was this, like a mass scavenger hunt? He thought maybe they were like him-mostly spooked into action than anything-but having been here for-fine, okay, he'd been here for, like, two days. But it was enough to say that of that those two days, Harry was starting to realize one very crucial thing:
No one was like him. He didn't mean that like a, a jackass I'm-special-and-better thing, he just. Meant that no one seemed to be really fucking freaked out by what was going on the way he felt. Temple of Doom guy over here included. Seriously, he'd met, like, five people, right? Not a single one. Who acted like that in real life ( ... )
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He held up a hand to indicate that they needed to be quiet. After a pause, he decided he didn't hear anything that would keep them from continuing in.
Well, you usually didn't; most of the time he was in the room with whatever was about to try to kill him before it revealed itself. Still, being cautious didn't hurt, especially when you were injured and unarmed. They'd just have to bank on their luck holding.
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She'd kept him waiting long enough; any more and, even if he had nothing to hold over her, he'd get either annoyed or angry, neither of which was something she wanted to deal with. Nice could be a lot of things. Information. Power. An weekend access pass to the Doyleton swimming pool, assuming there was one somewhere in that sham of a town.
"So what was this little reward, hmm?"
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"Oh, it died down ages ago," he lied, waving her first question off like nothing. He didn't want her to think that maybe he was weakened in any way. He was fit as a fiddle! She did not need to have any more of a hold over him as it was.
The door to the medical wing was in his sights, so Gant hurried along and opened it for Lana. Luckily the lock was already broken, making it a smooth transition. No need to waste time chatting it up in the hall while they battered away trying to get the lock open.
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All that running had Taura's stomach beginning to murmur. But there wasn't anyone else here, so she was just going to have to ignore it.
Wait. What? Of course she was just going to have to ignore it; she didn't eat people, no matter what the fangs looked like! Not, um, unless that was some sort of euphemism.
They'd given her something, all right, and it wasn't in the slightest bit all right. Something that was stripping the precise thing they'd given her back gift-wrapped -- her humanity, down to the last bit of outward appearances. She pinched the skin on her arm; it bruised under her fingers, far too easily for even this body. It was almost green.
She broke into a run. It was a medical wing, after all. There had to be some regular drugs in among the experimental ones.
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Rick leaving his side made him (afraid) uncomfortable, which in turn just...this wasn't working. Words to describe how much he hated this right now? Didn't exist. If this didn't stop now, he was going to bury a knife to the hilt in the nearest person. Who would be Rick. How convenient.
Though none of these thoughts stopped him from following when he never would've normally. Normally, he would've grabbed Rick by the arm and hauled him back so he could ask what the hell was his problem tonight.
As he fell back into step with Rick, his finger lightly along the sharp edge of the blade. Whether it was because he felt like using it or because he felt like he might need to use it, he couldn't say.
"You're being incredibly moody, by the way." Where that would've once been little more than a offhand remark, no matter how snappish Rick was acting, there was now a clear note tension running through it. He stopped in front of the door at the end of the hall. There, medical wing. Could they just get this done with ( ... )
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"I'm stuck in a haunted mental asylum with you. I have reasons." It was a flimsy defense at best. To be truthful, being around Damon wasn't something that really made him uncomfortable. Wary, maybe. Not uncomfortable. Damon might not have as much memory of it as he did, but he'd spent more time with the guy than most people would believe. And more than he deserved he reminded himself.
- That wasn't the point.
Big surprise the med wing was pitch-black, just like everything else. He was sick of playing meat shield, and definitely sick of Damon invading his personal space for the umpteenth time. "You go first. I'm not dying for you again."
He wasn't looking at Damon's face when he spoke, but the knife in his hand.
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But he couldn't help feeling it, anyway.
He cast a look at the inside of the room, then back at Rick, and rolled his eyes. He was hesitating. He never hesitated. Dammit.
"Fine. Give me that." He reached over without warning to snatch Alaric's flashlight. Look, if Rick wanted him to go in first, he was taking the damn light.
Which he didn't need. But that wasn't-whatever. Jesus Christ. He wanted it, so he was damn well taking it. That was more than the explanation he needed to give anyone.
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As they neared the entrance to the medical wing, the intercom came to life, filling the corridor with Aguilar's voice. It seemed the rebel was telling the truth- that he was using patients as a workforce now; however, some fought back by withholding the information they'd obtained. And for that, everyone was facing punishment.
Edgar snorted through his nose in irritation, knowing some would crack at the thought of their friends suffering for their actions. That would be what the General wanted, wouldn't it?
And of course, there was the other note of interest: a traitor. Not a rebel, but an outright turncoat working against the military. Now that was news.
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