The prison complex was rather empty. By the look of it this facility was long abandoned by the guards and staff. If only the same were true for the inmates. Karina watched in horror, maybe the only one of the bunch, as they passed by each cell and the scene grew more and more morbid. Some prisoners were caged animals of the undead. Some cells were just inhabited by rotting corpses the way corpses were originally intended to rot, lifelessly. Marcus’ brow began to sweat as he checked each cell in D-block, not sure which one exactly his brother Job was in.
After all this time, all these miles he had to go to get here from New York; traveling to the other side of the country for his last living relative, his older brother, what if, he isn’t living at all? Marcus did not want to let the panic of irony consume him. He was so close. It would make too much sense for Job to be dead already. How unfathomable a concept Marcus was toying with, trying to make sense of this new cruel world that took every chance it could to laugh at his persistent naivety. He checked Atticus’ face as he approached from the other end of the room. It did not matter that Atticus had no idea what Job looked like. It didn’t matter because every person Atticus checked in cell after cell was dead and the final cell between them was approaching.
This was it.
Eleven hundred miles later and the end of their journey now revealed before them merely steps away. Was it all for naught? Marcus had to know and could not wait any longer. He turned his sight on the cell and saw his brother lying in the bed, still, too still.
Samuel had found the switch for the doors and activated it giving Marcus very little time between discovery and action. Atticus, Rebecca, and Harold dealt with the walkers Samuel just released from their cages. Malcolm and Karina covered Marcus who was now in the cell trying to wake his brother.
“Job!”
“Come on, man, talk to me!”
“Job!”
“Don’t be dead.”
“Please.”
“Job?”
Rebecca rushed in to treat her new patient. Immediately she informed Marcus that he was still alive, “A feint pulse, but he’s still with us.”
Marcus rubbed his brother’s forehead, pulling his long unkempt hair back, revealing his dark silent eyes. “Is he going to make it?”
“The first few days will be the hardest to tell. His body is shutting down from starvation. When the body doesn’t have anything to feed on, it goes after itself. If there is no fat it will eat muscle, when the muscle is gone, which…it looks like it is…there isn’t much left. If his brain damage is too severe it’s no question what needs to happen next.” That was Rebecca’s best answer.
“I’ll do it myself, if it comes to that.”
“Then all I need is time and supplies.”
Marcus walked out of the cell and met up with Samuel and Atticus.
He directly inquired with them, “Do you think we will be able to secure the cellblock and scavenge medical supplies before nightfall?”
Samuel spoke for Rebecca while she was still bunk-side, “Annie is carrying our bags which contain almost everything we need.”
“Some of us can also raid the infirmary,” Atticus chimed in.
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Samuel looked over at Marcus, “Call it.”
Marcus looked around at everyone, he brought together what he had learned from watching Samuel and Atticus over the last few months and delegated. “Atticus take Malcolm and Karina with you to the infirmary, try to secure as many blocks as you can. Samuel and Harold secure us a path outside to bring in Annie and the rest.” He looked around for approval.
It was not necessary because everyone took to their tasks right away. Samuel knew if he didn’t give Marcus control he would have had to decide himself which to send to Annie and which to stay here with Rebecca and Job. Everything unfolded like clockwork after that, and like Rebecca said, it would take some time.
Days passed into weeks, the prison was practically zombie-free except for one last cell-block, Cell-block F, which was half burnt to the ground. The decision was to leave it in ruin. Job was beginning to show promising signs of recovery. Vehicles were found and repaired into working condition. Soon they began settling into their new home. And Samuel took a wrangler out on his first trip to the old NASA Base on Cape Canaveral.
“So when do I get to see what you’re working on out there?”
“I assume when you are almost through with treating your patient,” Samuel talked Rebecca down, “Plus there’s not much to see yet, without Tyrell well, let’s just say I’m still figuring out how to get the lights on.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“No, you’re not.”
“No, I’m not. What do you think you are going to accomplish?”
“Rebecca, don’t-”
“No, no I really want to know, we are all here trying to fortify this place, build a home for ourselves, a future, and you’re off chasing white rabbits.”
“If there’s even the slightest chance to save my family I have to try. What else is there now?”
“Your family is gone, Samuel. The people here still need you.”
Samuel finished unpacking the medical supplies he rounded up from the storage units at Cape Canaveral, avoiding eye-contact with Rebecca for this next part.
“I got you all here, what’s left of you. I don’t owe those people anything.”
“Maybe you don’t, but what about me?”
Samuel walked out with the empty bag, perhaps he may stop by with Atticus and Annie before heading back, get himself some food for the road. Before he reached the door he turned back. “Everyone dies, Rebecca, there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”
The layers of implication from such an overthought response staggered Rebecca as she watched Samuel leave. She knew he cared about her, and if he let himself accept that fact, in Samuel’s head, he would be getting her one step closer to danger. So he became cold, detached in this new world’s exceptional mortality rate. She didn’t like what he was becoming, what he had become since they departed after North Carolina. The man she was reunited with in Savannah was not the same man from New York, not after the loss of his son. Bringing him back those machines was the last thing he needed.
Rebecca walked into Job’s cell where he was sitting up and eating chicken flavored ramen out of a Styrofoam bowl.
“How do you feel today, Job?”
“I feel like I’m ready to get out of this bed, Doc.”
“A couple more days of the physical therapy exercise and your leg muscles will be back to adequate strength.”
“And I can’t thank you enough for all this, Doctor Pratt.”
“It’s my pleasure, Job. Your brother helped save my life on more than one occasion. This is the least I can do.”
“Good ol’ Marcus, always there to save the day.”
Rebecca sensed a bit of sarcasm coming from Job, but she did not want to press it. She knew what became of bedside manner turned idle gossip, and never forgot the fallout shelter back in New York nor the manner in which they escaped it. Instead, Rebecca made a note of Job’s disposition towards his own brother and made certain to bring it up with Atticus.