Chapter Text
“Hey, good to see you in the flesh. The totally unbroken, skin-not-bitten-by-zombies flesh, right?” Oh goody. Brit Boy is back, this time in person. Though he did have to admit, the guy did help him stay alive and uninjured. Mostly. “Ah, step back, step back everyone, don’t crowd. Give runner Five some space. Can’t take in so many new faces right now.”
“My name is not Runner Five, Gavino.” He didn’t like being a generic title that wasn’t even his.
"It’s Gavin. And if you don’t want to be called Runner Five, then we’re gonna actually need a name to call you. " Gavin corrected and prodded him on the shoulder with a water bottle.
Taking the bottle from him and downing it in a single go, he replied, “Michael. Michael Jones.”
As he took deep, carefully counted breaths, he saw the doctor leaning towards that other runner guy— Jeff, was it?—and was just able to make out her asking him, “Has he been assigned for project GreenShoot?”
Though he probably wasn’t supposed to know what she’d said.
“So, then, Michael,” the was the guy said his name made it sound like ‘My-cool’, but whatever, right? “You should get Grif—The Doc, to take a look at those cuts on your arms and face. Don’t want to have infected, nasty face nodules or anything…”
Face nodules? “Face nodules? What?” you repeated aloud in bemusement. Gavin stuck his arm behind his head and scratched his skull, a sheepish expression blossoming on his girly little face. Though girly might not be the right word. A little thin maybe, except that nose. That was definitely not small.
“Yeah, you know… random bits of your face getting all, infected, and stuff? Because of being all cut from, I guess glass, and whatnot.”
“Shit, man, I guess you’re right. Couldn’t feel it before with all the adrenaline and stuff, but it’s really starting to hurt like a bitch. Especially this one on my side here,” Michael pointed to his right side of his torso, just between his bottom two ribs.
In fact, as Gavin helped him up from his position on the ground against the fence around the ‘armoury’, he realized he was hurting. Not just his cuts from the crash, but really aching everywhere. Michael really hoped it went away, and that he could find somewhere to rest until it did.
They slowly, thanks to his aching body, made their way to the Doc, who was talking to who he assumed was Runner Seven. She looked a little familiar, but he couldn’t seem to place where. He’d think about it later, as they were off to the medical building. On the way Gavin pointed out that only those with the permission of the Major, Major Burns, could enter the armoury unless there was an emergency; the Major’s second in command, Gus, then had the authority to hand out firearms and other weapons as needed. Which is why it’s completely fenced in with locks on the entrances. And there were also children at the township, and they didn’t want any accidents, which makes total sense to Michael. Who know what a kid could do with free reign of a weapons stash like that. They came to another, smaller building with an antenna on the roof. One guess on what that one was.
“This is the Communications base, where I work all the time, and coordinate the runner routes and stuff. This is where I was when I was talking to you! We had to try really hard to get a visual of you from the satellite. We were lucky we could see you at all. Good thing Nathan was able to figure it out. Though I wish someone else could have. He’s always so stoic and he’s really tall and muscle-y and he sometimes gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Gavin, everything even remotely not happy creeps you out. Not just Nathan.” Doc teased him, making Gavin huff with a ‘yeah, well, whatever’.
“Continuing on!” Gavin hurried forward a few steps, then turned back to face them and started walking backwards, still speaking. “This is our Hospital. Not much to look at; having such limited resources available, but we do what we can. The runners really help with that though.”
“So, why aren’t you a runner?” He questioned, given the guy’s longer legs.
“Well, I would, but runners nee—Whoa!” His lengthy legs tangled with his backwards motions and he tumbled backwards. Gavin looked up from the ground and kept going. “Well, they need to be a little LESS clumsy than me. Able to put one foot in front of the other without falling over them, which, as you can see, I can’t.”
He pulled himself off the dirt beneath him while Michael snickered quietly at the uncoordinated doofus. Doc cleared her throat at Gavin.
“Right. Hospital. Let’s get you disinfected, then I’ll take you to a room to rest. You’re probably a right bit tired after such an excursion as yours.” They walked into one of the three big metal storage thingies—whatever they’re called—and he let the scene sink in.
In the far left corner there was a tall, double door cabinet, probably holding any antibiotics and bandages. In the opposite was a wide wooden chest. It was left open and he could see blankets and other linens piled there. Along the right side, from the chest to almost the door, small cots, some probably from hospitals, others were just old looking fold-ups. There were nine, each about two feet apart, and all about the same in width; not very comfortable looking, but better than nothing. There was a small, student-like desk in the centre of the back wall with an inch tall pile of papers and files. He assumed they were medical reports, maybe even inventory lists to alert them when they needed more supplies and antibiotics.
“Take a seat on one of the cots and well get you patched right up, Mr. Jones.” Doc, you swear you’ve seen her before, headed for the cabinet. Michael followed and parked himself on the cot next to it.
“So, doctor Ramsey, how long have you been working as a doctor at the township?” He wanted to know how many people she’s patched up before she accidentally strangled him with bandages.
“About a week, before this I was learning how to poison people without them knowing it.”
“Uh…” He edged away from her, looking warily at the hands searching through the quietly clinking bottles.
“I’m kidding, Mr. Jones. I’ve been helping here for four months. Before that I was a nurse practitioner at the hospital. I was studying to become a doctor before the infection hit. I’m not going to kill you trying to save you. Not today, at least.” She had this strange expression, as if that had happened before. And, man, she was good. Her first response had sounded so serious he believed it easily. And there was Gavin, laughing like a lunatic beside him.
“Call me Michael, Doctor Ramsey. And nice trick. Do all your new patients fall for it?” He asked, shooting Gavin a dirty look that he didn’t even notice, the idiot.
“No, only the more gullible ones. And only if you call me Doc. Or Griffin, if you’d prefer.”
“Shut up, you stupid Brit! Why the hell are you still laughing? It wasn’t even that funny!” Michael glared, fuming. He had a bit of left over aggression the run for his life didn’t get rid of.
“I’m from England, not Britain, thank you very much. And it wasn’t the joke; it was the look on your face. You just looked so- so WORRIED, as if she was gonna pull some crazy, deadly potion or something out of the two doored shelf thing.” He broke off into laughter again.
“Deadly potion? What are you, a wizard? And it’s a CABINET, you idiot. How do you not know this?"
"I do know it! I just couldn't... remember what it was called... Sometimes I even come up with knew names for things!" He still had this goofy smile on his face as he spoke.
There was tug on his sleeve. "Shirt off."
Michael gripped the back of his shirt collar and pulled it off, giving Gavin a strange look at the slight choking noise that came from his direction. "Make me better, Doc."
---*---
Shirt on and newly bandaged, Michael followed Gavin towards what he explained was the housing. From what he could see, they were surprisingly well constructed wooden cabins. Square and rectangular building with very slightly tented roofs. There were 18 and one half constructed.
"We have three or four in each room, with two communal cold showers and a mess hall at the farmhouse. Ray and I were wondering when we would receive our last boarder, ever since Geoff moved in with Griffon and Millie. Millie's Geoff and Griffons daughter, but until we got more room or lost someone, it was too crowded to move them together. Geoff only left us a couple weeks back; we lost runner 5, giving Griffon room for one more." Gavin was looking anywhere but at him. "Now we have a new runner 5 and Ray and I have room for one more. You can have a rest, then Geoff wants to give the rundown on Achievement. If you're okay with that?"
"Just one, very important question, Gavin." Michael said, probably the most serious he'd been ever. Gavin looked at him with an anxious face, afraid of what was so important to his new friend. "Does your cabin have a bed?"
Gavin laughed in what seemed like amusement, but was secretly relief. "Twin sized mattresses for each of us."
"Then I guess I'm your third musketeer!"