Secure. Contain. Protect.

You, Naomi, Raindrop, Strangeness-in-the-Air, and Devin. It's an odd group, but not a bad one. Your gun rests in your hand, cold metal fitting neatly into warm flesh. You hope you won't have to use it.

You tried to check in with Mars before this, but couldn’t find them anywhere. You imagine they’re trying to keep their head down. You hope they’re not doing anything stupid.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Naomi, who is all nerves. She reminds you all 'just how dangerous it would be if there was a zombie in our midst.' You nod, stoic. You know she’s probably right, though you hate to think it.

The sweep of the substation is quick and, as far as you can tell, useless, beyond the main door being unlocked (Naomi babbles that it must mean that Lottie has escaped. You remind her that the infirmary itself has its own lock). You hear bumping and crashing from one corner of the structure, but it's just The Relic Seeker; you leave her to her tinkering. Every clear corridor and unbroken window should reassure you, but despite every effort, you can't avoid the growing feeling that you're trapping a fish in a very small, very fatal barrel. You start to worry that that might be the point.

Eventually, you reach the infirmary door. Creaking and quiet tears writhe their way under the door frame and through the rusted lock. Raindrop moves to open the door, but Strangeness catches her eye. A look is exchanged between them, and Raindrop takes a step back, leaving the path open to Strangeness. You take your own position in the group, remaining on this side of the threshold, pistol like an extension of your arm, aimed neatly at the edge of the frame—though you keep the safety on. The storyteller takes a step forward, slipping through the door just as Naomi hands her a small gun from underneath her medical scrubs, and you lean forward, straining to hear the conversation behind closed doors.

The words shared by the two women are unclear and muffled behind the thick iron border, but you catch whispers and contours that tell you no one is in danger. From Strangeness: 'I don't think you're the monster…'; from Lottie: 'I'm so tired…'; from one of the two—you're not sure which: 'I'm not afraid.’

You hold your gun like a talisman. Devin isn’t quite so calm, clicking the safety of his own weapon on and off. Raindrop’s glare tells you she’s annoyed by it, but you think that, if anything were to irritate you now, it would have to be Naomi's shallow, anxious breathing from the back of the group.

Suddenly, heralded by neither gunshot nor fight, the door creaks open. Raindrop shifts into position, ready to shoot. Naomi steps suddenly forward to interject, trying to pull the woman's gun down, but the butt of the rifle is wrenched from the medic's hand and the muzzle is aimed directly at the gap between door and wall, steadily widening. You stare at the space, hoping you’ll see something safe, someone who can be reasoned with, someone ready to talk

and for a second

you do

before Raindrop’s gun goes off.

You thank the skies that you never saw April’s head split open like this, or Maye's blood painted across the floor like this, or Julia’s body so suddenly limp.

Still, you squeeze your eyes shut. A corpse is a corpse is a corpse.

When you open your eyes again, the infirmary has been plunged into darkness.

{[]}