✧ sugar ๑ glennrheexfem!reader ✧

๑twenty-two๑

๑
y/n's pov:
you're now boiler room, following behind shane. "i don't like the way jenner clammed up. the way he just wandered off like that. what's wrong with him?" shane says and you nod in agreement. "seriously, the man is capital N nuts." t-dog adds. you hear beeping coming from a door to your left. "in there." you say, walking into the room. it was small, and filled floor to ceiling with generators. you start to look for any that weren't empty, to no avail. "check that way." shane says and you put a hand out "shane. they're all empty." you say and he was about to say something when when lights turn off. a second later red lights go on and the robotic voice known as vi announces "emergency lighting on."

you all walk out of the room and back to the main room. "hey, you guys kill the lights?" shane asks rick and he shakes his head "nah, it just went out. anything?" he answers and t-dog shrugs "yeah, a lot of dead generators and more empty fuel drums than i can count." he answers. jenner appears from one of the doors, and sits down at a desk with a bottle of whiskey. the distraught look on his face makes your stomach drop.

"i did the best i could in the time that i had. i hope you'd be proud of that. ie always think there's gonna be more time, then it runs out." he says, not to anyone directly. "why is the air off? and the lights in our room? what's going on?" carol asks and jenner turns to her. "energy use is being... prioritized." he answers and shane walks up to him. "air isn't a priority? and lights?" he asks, slightly accusatory. jenner shrugs, taking another sip of the whiskey bottle.

"it's not up to me. zone 5 is shutting itself down." the doctor answers and daryl walks towards him"hey! what do you mean it's shutting itself down? how can a building do anything?" he explcaims in his signature punch first, get answers later fashion. jenner barely flinches as he takes another sip of the bottle. "the system is dropping all the nonessential uses of power. it's designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second. that started as we approached the half-hour mark. it was the french." jenner explains, making your brows twist with confusion.

"what?" you ask and he takes a sip from the bottle. "they were the last ones to hold out as far as i know. while our people were bolting out the doors and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs till the end. they thought they were close to a solution." he answers. andrea narrows her eyes "what happened?" she asks and the doctor tosess the now empty bottle of whiskey across the room, the sound of glass shattering echoing across the room.

"the same thing that's happening here. no power grid. ran out of juice. the world runs of fossil fuel. i mean, how stupid is that?" jenner says with a scoff. you turn to glenn "go grab your stuff, we need to go, now." you mutter to him and he nods, walking off to do so. rick has the same idea, "lori, grab our things. everybody, get your stuff. we're getting out of here now!" he shouts and everyone springs into action, running off to their rooms to get their things.

an alarm starts blaring, making you wince "thirty minutes to decontamination." vi announces and you start to get anxious, shifting your weight from one foot to another and gripping the handle of your machete as you keep your eyes on the doctor, watching his ever move. "what happens in 28 minutes?" you mutter to jenner, dreading his answer. the doctor turns to face you and stands, his face now twisted with anger and sadness, making you take a step back.

"do you know what this place is?! we protected the public from very nasty stuff! weaponized smallpox! ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! stuff you don't want getting out! ever! in the event of a catastrophic power failure, a terrorist attack, for example, h.i.t.s are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out." jenner exclaims through his outburst. his last statement echoes in your mind 'h.i.t's are deployed to prevent anything from getting out, or, anyone' you think. you recognize the acronym, muttering a soft "fuck." in dispair.