Chapter Text
“Raise the gates!” Sam called, as energetic as ever. Runner Five smiled in spite of the exhaustion radiating from worn muscles. Almost home now. One final sprint and the vials would be safe in the lab's refrigerators.
“Whoa there, Five. A bit eager, are we?” Runner Three laughed, working to keep up. “You know, I've had a hard day too. Is this final dash-” A cold glare from his fellow runner shut him up quickly.
The comforting sounds of the alarms blaring and the metallic creaking of the gate signaled an end to Five's nightmarish odyssey. “Five!” Maxine hollered, pushing her way through the small throng of citizens gathered for the runners' return. “The vials. Paula's notes,” she huffed, out of breath from her own mad dash to the gates.
Several others clambered for Five's attention – Ed, Jodie, Jack, even the ever aloof Janine. All the runner could really focus on between heaving breaths and the sudden urge to vomit was the doctor's face. She had that same look in her eyes that she had in the woods when she was throwing knives at Van Ark. Steadfast determination was written in every laugh line and between each freckle. Five could not be sure until just then, until Maxine was standing before tired eyes, that the woman had indeed escaped their ordeal unscathed. What was supposed to be a simple exploratory run – a simple investigation – turned into...
With some effort those thoughts were banished. Maxine was here, her mind already on the scientific conundrum before her. It was startling to realize there wasn't anything she could ask for that Five would deny. Hell, if she needed someone to run out for some fancy microscope or hit up a medical library for texts again (And hadn't that been fun the first time – who would have thought zombie med students would be that persistent?) the battle-weary runner would have volunteered. Perhaps it was because the Doc had given Five a place at Abel; maybe because she gave Five a new purpose, training the runner in spite of her more pressing obligations as camp physician; or because Maxine had saved Five almost as much as Sam and dumb luck had.
All of this was why the runner pulled the vials carefully out of the beat-up canvas bag, but neglected to hand over the notes just yet. “Get them to the fridge. Only about ten minutes or so left and its so hot out...”
“Oh, Five, thank you!” She clutched the vials close. “I can't even begin to tell you what this means for all of us.”
The poor runner had to lean forward, hands white knuckled as they clutched scrapped up knees. “Go. I'll bring the notes by in a bit.”
Maxine's smile was brilliant. “Get to the hospital. I'll pick up the notes from you after I get these somewhere safe. I need to start working as soon as possible.”
“I can do that for you,” Simon offered, resting an arm on the already withering runner's shoulder.
“I think Five could use a hand getting across to the hospital if anything,” she countered, frowning at the near-collapsing runner.
Dropping the pack to the ground, Five bent down swiftly, knocking Si off-balance. “I can manage and you're right. The sooner you get started, the better.” After some rummaging, a pile of wrinkled papers sticking out of a worn leather notebook was produced. “It's everything she gave me.” In a flash, the doctor disappeared down the path to her lab.
Simon stumbled and jovially tapped Five on the shoulder. “Good on you, then. Let me get this gun back to the armory and I'll help you over.”
“If we wanted Five helped off a cliff,” Jack piped up, “That would be great.”
“Hey!” Si griped.
“Well you did shoot repeatedly...” Ed added, setting Molly down.
“I see a bedraggled human form, shambling over the hill towards our gates...”
The precocious head of blond curls toddled over with a giggle. “Fi,” she cooed, dirt-stained hands reaching for a sweat and tear-stained face. “Fi! Play now,” Molly insisted. Ever the little light of Abel, she brought a smile to the exhausted runner's face and ceased the budding argument erupting above their heads.
“Perhaps later, love,” Five grinned, pulling the child close for a proper hug, “but a shower is in store. Perhaps hot if I can get Rajit my notes on his novel's latest chapters.” Molly twisted around in the embrace, half crawling into the pack to see if her favorite runner brought her a special treat. Laughter broke out at her antics.
“After you are cleared by medical, Runner,” Janine intoned. “Protocols are put in place for a purpose.” Her stance and voice were as cold as usual. It made whatever light that shone forth from Molly's sweetness fade. For a moment they could forget the world was all grey and hardship. But she was right. A medical exam after an extended or pear-shaped mission was SOP after the old Runner Fifteen came in from a train-wreck of a supply run with a bite she failed to mention.
“Oh!” Molly shrieked, finding something. “Pretty!” She struggled to free herself from the canvas, but popped out triumphantly, a sports bra on her head and a jewel-toned CD case in her hands.
Five snatched it quickly, returning the disc to the pocket it had been in. “Yes, but this you'll like better.” The resulting shriek deafened all those around as the girl held her new prize close. The small, but glittering rock was a lucky find and – as far as Five was concerned – one of the few good things she pulled out of Van Ark's compound.
“Another for the collection?” Ed chuckled, ruefully. “I'm running out of space for your rocks, little love.”
Molly looked up at him with bright eyes and a dazzling smile. “Fi gave me a pretty, Daddy.” she cooed before kissing the runner's cheek in gratitude.
“You're welcome,” Five grinned up at Ed. “It's not like any of us can say no to her and since she can't go hunting for pretties herself...” Janine shifted and Five sighed. “I can't say no to you either. Alright, off to medical for me.” One last hug and the girl was passed off to her father. Shouldering the canvas, standing up on shaky legs, Runner Five limped down the well-worn path to the hospital.
Simon shook his head. “Surrounded by all that mess and still collecting supplies and doodads.”
Jodie smiled, “It's what we runners do and Five is one of the best.”
“Doesn't seem too fazed,” Ed muttered, cradling the bouncing toddler close.
“Good runners never do,” Janine concluded, excusing herself with a nod. “Carry on and don't forget to report to the armory to have your recently-fired weapon serviced, Mr. Lauchlan.” If her gaze softened when it fell on Simon, no one wisely said a word.
“I just don't see why I have to come sort this out,” Sam complained into the smoke-tainted air around him. “Eugene and Jack almost blow the shack to kingdom come and give themselves one heck of a shock. So they get a nice rest in hospital and I get to miss the Runners Feast to get us back online.”
“Maybe this will help,” a voice called from outside the comm shack.
Sam opened the door to see Five, a pack on shoulder and a heaping plate of a fine feast in hand. “Don't laugh,” the radioman warned. Cables wrapped around his shoulder and chest; grease and soot caked on his face; the man looked like a technological Rambo.
“Of course not,” Five said, failing to conceal a grin and pushing past Sam. “You look like you could use a break.”
Sam took the plate. The semi-palatable offering did very little to improve his sour mood. “Do you see what the DJ Romeos have done to my shack?” he huffed, irritably.
Five nodded. The control desk was a burnt out mess of smoldering wires and clutter. “I brought a few supplies from the farmhouse that might help.”
It was like a switch was flipped. Sam grinned and kissed Five's cheek. “You are my bloody hero!” he exclaimed, taking the proffered pack and leaving a blushing runner in his wake. A few bites of mashed potatoes and he enthusiastically launched himself back into work. Five fell silent as Sam chattered happily about the new supplies. “When did we get these? Oh it must have been when you went off with that reporter. Remember him? What a gobshite! And that alleyway? Damn was that one rough. Who dictates their last words like that anyway? Wanker!” He shook his head as he barreled along. “Not good old Five! Best mate!” he exclaimed, taking another bite of potatoes. “Brings me fresh spuds, great supplies – and a stone cold hero in the field. A warrior bravely facing danger at every turn.”
He looked up and his grin faltered. “Five?” The runner in question paled. Although showered and bandaged, Five looked rougher than upon arrival back at Abel.
“I'm not, Sam” was the barely audible response. Tears were bravely held back as trembling hands clutched the jewel-toned CD case. “I knew Maxine was lying to you when I left camp with her. I knew she was up to something. She brought along bolt cutters for God's sake and I still didn't stop her. She almost got- got infected by Van Ark and captured because of me!”
Sam took a cautious step closer, trying to head this off before the apparent breakdown could really gather speed. “Now, wait a minute -”
“No!” Five jabbed a finger at him. “I sliced a man's throat open in cold blood because he would have hurt her and-and she and you and Sarah and Ed and Molly and Jack and -” A half sob broke through the runner's crumbling facade. “And then that bastard – that monster tied me to his jeep, dragged me through fucking hell! He- he was going to do things to me, unspeakable things!” The hand extended towards Sam shook.
The runner heaved a few ragged breaths before the words could continue to flow. “And then Paula saved me from all of that. Sure it was just so her notes and vials and this could get back to Max.” Five brandished the disc. “But it was still bloody nice not to be left for – and then I still had to run home with one-eyed zombs, cannibals, and fucking Lem!”
Lashing out now, Five kicked over a precarious tower of boxes. “That zombie – that zombie gave more of a damn about me. He saved me, not because of what I could bring him or do for him. That crazy, half-rotten bastard saved me... again.” Tears flowed freely now as Five's legs finally gave out. After what had to been over a 20 kilometer run through hell on a day off, there wasn't any strength left.
Sam swore softly, momentarily frozen by the unexpected tirade. Then indignant anger flashed in his eyes. “Now wait just a damn minute! Are you saying all we cared about – Maxine, myself, Janine -”
Five gave him a look.
“Alright, maybe not Janine, but stop being so thick. You are one of my runners. I wasn't going to leave you to that psycho! Neither was the Doc. She would've gone herself if Paula hadn't stopped her! So don't you dare say that!”
His ire deflated as quickly as it had arisen. The radioman suddenly looked five years older. “Fuck, I thought we had lost all of you so many times today.” He kicked an overturned box to the other side of the room and lowered himself onto the dusty, cobweb- riddled floor. “God, someone should clean in here,” he chuckled hoarsely, trying to wipe the grime from his hands onto his trousers.
Five stared at him a moment. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Sam was just a kid – hardly twenty-three when this mess started. The runner reached out and gave his shoulder a soft squeeze. “Sorry, mate. It's sure been a shit day, hasn't it?”
Sam just nodded. His eyes lingered on the bandages around Five's wrists. How he wanted Van Ark to pay for those scars left on his runner, on his doctor, even on Paula. Because that too hurt Maxine. “Yeah. Good to let stuff like that out, right?” He rubbed his neck awkwardly. “So the disc?”
A change in topic, however slight, was due. The air was thick with too much raw emotion, too many close, personal things almost shouted out into the open. Five's hand dropped slowly from Sam's shoulder. “It was with the things Paula gave me. It says, 'For Dr. Maxine Myers. Listen only in the event of the death of Dr. Paula Cohen.'”
Five paused and tried to gage Sam's reaction. “If I gave it to her now, she would listen to it, which isn't what Paula wants...” Clearly those were the right words because any argument died on Sam's lips. “I thought you could keep it in here, in case – next time – I don't make it back home.”
“Now, wait – stop that. You're Runner Five. You're the best. You'll always come back,” he protested, taking Five's hand in his. “But this is a good place to keep things like that...”
The bruised, battered runner let out a sigh of relief. “Good, because here is the next part. This you aren't going to like.” Five made sure to hold Sam's eye. “I want to listen to it.”
“No! That-that's the Doc's and its private.”
“I know and I can explain. Look, you and Max are the only reason I'm still alive. I would never do something to hurt her like this, but Paula said there was a lot about Van Ark that Max didn't know. That we don't know. What if there is some hint or tidbit of information in there we could use?”
“Paula would have said,” Sam argued, uncertainty flickering in his mind.
“There wasn't time. It's what the Major or Janine would do if they knew about this.” Five held up a hand. “I don't want to tell them any more than you do, which is why I want to be the one to listen to it. Just once. Just to be sure. Then we can hide it away in case the worse happens.”
“The Doc will never have to hear it...”
“Because we can get Paula back. Even helping me as she did, Sam, he won't kill her. She knew that going back.”
Silence descended on the shack. If you strained your ears, you could hear the joyous sounds of the Runner's Feast in the distance. Everyone was celebrating another day survived with friends – turned family – all safely home again. Except for Maxine, who was slaving away in the lab. She would work non-stop to fix the formula – to stop the zombies and save the children. Because it was the right thing to do. And, as Sam and Five knew, to distract herself from the pain of losing Paula again. The disc – seeing it, hearing it – would only hurt her, make her assume the worst, and break her down.
“Just once,” he whispered. “Both of us and then we never tell another soul.”
Five handed it over as Sam hastily set up the CD player. “Just once.”
“I hope there is something on here worth this,” he muttered half to himself as he pressed play.