We stayed there in shocked silence- the Doc with a death grip on the back of my chair and me, halfway out of my seat, nose to the screen where Sean looked up at us with an expression I had never before seen on his face- doubt, confusion, and uncertainty. The Doc broke the spell of the girl’s appearance, with swift commands in a sure tone.
“Runner Five. Bring her in now. Straight to the hospital.”
He looked up at us, where he knew the camera to be, and we could see that he was stuck in himself, alone outside the fence, with questions that we were all asking bouncing in his head.
“RUN.” The Doc’s voice was cold, and harsh. He started running.
“Open the gates.”
-
Sean walked through the gates with the girl in his arms. All those who had come to congratulate him on another mission well done fell away from him and the girl, like snow melting around a fire. He didn’t look at anyone, and no one looked at him. Everyone had their eyes locked on her face- tan and heart-shaped, with thick blonde lashes and framed by long golden hair. He made his way to the hospital and entered through the single door, taking care not to hit the girl’s head or feet on the doorframe. As soon as it shut behind him, whispered conversations erupted. The same question leapt from ear to mouth to ear, repeated a thousand times over.
Who was this girl?
-
Doc and I were waiting for Sean by an empty bed when he got to the ward. As soon as he saw us, he opened his mouth to ask the question of the day, but the Doc cut him off. “Put her down, and go get bandages.” He lay her down gently, as kind as I’d ever seen him, and left immediately. The Doc started patting the girl down, going through her pockets, and dumped everything unceremoniously onto the ground to go through later. Then she moved on to her clothes- first her shoes and socks, revealing feet with calloused soles. Then, showing no sign of modesty or embarrassment, moved to the zipper of her jeans.
“Wait”, I said. “Shouldn’t we… you know… wait till she’s conscious? To invade her privacy like this?”
The Doc looked at me with amusement. “If this is too much for your honor and integrity, you can help Sean with the bandages. But if she has any major injuries, they’re going to be hidden.” I stayed.
Pants, jacket, long-sleeved T-shirt, then another T-shirt. She remained unconscious the whole time. But when the Doc pulled off an undershirt, we both cringed. A long, thick, pale scar ran the width of her stomach, about two inches above her navel, and appeared to wrap about to her back. The Doc ran her finger on it, tracing it.
“At least two years old, this is… It looks like… Wow.” She glanced at me, worry in her eyes. “It looks like she was whipped… or burned.”
But besides the curious scar, she had no major cuts or bruises. Little scrapes and bumps were on her legs are arms, but no broken bones. But still, she did not awake. She clearly hadn’t been living on her own since the fall of civilization- she was fed well, and muscled. Which led to another question- where had she come from? We hadn’t received word from any other pods of survivors. Then again, we were three miles deep into private property, in the middle of rural Indiana- there hadn’t been many people around even BEFORE the zombies came to town.