Life in an Apocalypse

Chapter 5

     "I heard a scream from here what's going - oh," Jack scrambled into the room, and noticed my current situation. I sighed. "It's alright, we're alright," I explained, "Poor girl kinda freaked out when she noticed that Marge forgot to give her proper clothes. She just woke up." Just as I finished that statement Marge and Damien enter the room as well. They pretty much held the same reactions and settled down just as quickly as Jack breathed a sigh of relief (although it was hard to ignore the snickers from Damien and Jack when they noticed the bright red hand print proudly displayed on my cheek). The injured girl still remained in her corner, although a bit calmer now, so I decided to approach her with caution. 

    "How're you feeling? Still sore from your wounds?" I asked calmly, putting away my bayonet. I wanted to make sure that she would be a bit more comfortable around us. After all, this situation for her would be much better than how she was found. I turned my head and looked to Jack, who noticed my expression and want of some privacy. Jack nodded and stood up, pulling Damien and Marge out of the room saying that they were off to search for more supplies. I smiled back in thanks as the door shut behind me, leaving me with the girl. She still looked frightened, but I could tell that she was feeling a bit more comfortable with it being just me. I searched my pack - to which I could feel her watching my every move - and pulled out some rabbit jerky I had dried a while back. I turned back to her and extended it out towards her.

    "I know you're a bit scared of us right now. Relax, you're safe here," I tried to calm her nerves. She stayed silent, but did inch a bit closer to me. She held her blanket closely, still trying to cover up. Seems she's still scared of me, I mused, can't blame her with how I look at the moment. I mean, what can you expect when you see a person with short cut hair, ragged and covered in cuts with a damaged sleeveless vest and ripped jeans with sneakers to match? I guess she saw me as a dangerous person at first glance. She doesn't move any closer to me, keeping her distance and still extremely cautious. I decided that it was going to be as close as she got to me, so I approach her bed, alarming her greatly to the point where she immediately withdraws from me. I place the rabbit jerky in front of her on her bed; at the very least she should eat and focus on regaining her strength. I turn to go sit down in my chair. "If you need anything just ask. I'm just gonna be right here," I tell her, pulling up my chair to continue maintenance on my bayonet. I pull out my whetstone and continue on my work, wary that the girl is watching me closely with interest. 

    Marge came into the room about an hour later, giving the girl a smile as she came in. She was holding some cloth in her hands and a couple medical supplies. "Well, kid, you were right in saying that this place may have some stuff to help the girl," Marge said, "I didn't expect to find gauze, antiseptics, and even some scrubs for the girl to wear." I smiled and thanked her as I took the supplies from Marge. The girl watched as Marge walked back out of the room, and then turned her attention back to me as I approached her with the supplies she gave me. This time, she didn't shrink away nor tense up. Rather, she remained still, looking at me with questioning eyes. I smiled, "What's with that look? Something on my face?" She blinked a couple times trying to figure out what I meant before shaking her head furiously. I chuckled, placing the supplies down next to her to examine what Marge gave her; a doctor's white garments, sneakers, and some bandages and antiseptic. This is quite the haul, I thought grinning in approval, I hope we have more to carry with us. I took the bandages and antiseptic. "If it's okay with you, I want to address those wounds of yours," I tell her gently. The girl looks at me, then at the supplies. She looks back to me with a smile, nodding. I smile back, "Great! Now, let's see..." 

    After a few minutes, she's patched up again. I turn around to give her privacy to change; thankfully none of her undergarments were taken from her and the fact that her injuries didn't require me to move them at all. I hear the shuffle of clothes, then a tug on my vest a few moments later lets me know she's finished. I turn around, seeing her sitting up straight with the scrubs on, smiling. "Nice, now you're looking much better," I said. I turn back towards my usual chair. 
    "Thank you," I hear a tiny feminine voice. I stop in my tracks. I turn back around; all I see is the girl sitting up on her bed smiling at me. I give a huff and smile back, "No problem."
    "If you don't mind me asking," I hear the girl speak again in the same soft voice, "May I ask you your name?"
    "Only if you give me yours," I reply gently, turning my body towards her once more. The girl giggles - innocent and almost elegant.
    "I guess that's only fair," she muses, "My name is Cynthia. What's yours?" I chuckle lightly, glad that she's opening up to us despite how we began.
    "Well then, you can call me Zee. That's how my friend's called me before all of this happened," I told her. She looked at me, confused. 
    "What's your real name then?" She asked. I smiled, "My actual name is Shirley, but my friends called me Zee after a specific word: zephyr. As in the gentle breeze that brings people comfort and reassurance that everything will be fine." 
    "Aw how cute," Cynthia giggles, "I can see why." Her smile fades, "And I'm sorry from earlier. I wasn't thinking and-"
    "Oh relax! That's okay I completely understand!" I reply quickly. Even after all of this she feels bad about hitting me, I noted, how sweet. It had been awhile since I had been able to smile for this long, and judging from her expression it was the same for her. The two of us continued to idly chat the hours away. I pulled my chair and my pack closer towards her and continued talking until Marge and the others came back into the room to check on things, showing their surprise on seeing how close I managed to get to her. 
    
    "Dang, kid, how'd you do it?" Damien whistled, impressed. I scoff at him; he always makes some sort of awkward witty remark to annoy me at times. Cynthia just giggled, tempting Marge to smile.
    "Well, whatever you did, thank you," Marge told me. I laughed it off, rubbing the back of my neck in embarrassment. Jack hummed his approval as well. He looked over to Cynthia, noticing that she began to hide behind me. I could feel her hands gripping tightly to the back of my vest, her head tilted down with her forehead to my back. I turn my head towards her, trying to see her face. I sighed with a smile. "Looks like she's still sort of scared of you guys at the moment. Give us some space?" I asked them. Marge nodded, taking a step back. Jack did the same, slapping Damien before he could say anything dumb and pulling him away from us; Damien was trying to get poor Cynthia to show him her face. 
    "Well, did you find out her name or how she got those injuries?" Jack asked me. 
    "Her name is Cynthia," I replied, "At the moment I don't want to ask her about something like that, especially because she needs to focus on healing right now." 
    "That's true, but we could do with a bit of info, you know," Damien stated, "That way we can be wary of those guys and make sure we don't get the same result or worse." I sighed in annoyance, face-palming at the stupidity and density I had just witnessed from Damien. One resounding slap, a grumble from Damien, and then I looked back up at them. 
    "That's gonna be a long way from now, Damien. Hush," I reprimanded, "At any rate, I want to give her more time before I even mention something like that. I don't even think she trusts us enough to even talk to me about it." Honestly, I did want to ask her about that. It was tempting, considering that she was finally awake after all this time. At the same time, however, I didn't want to make her remember something that she may not want to remember. If the event that caused her the injuries happened to be traumatic, it could cause her to panic and withdraw even further from us. The last thing that I would want out of this situation is for her to sneak away from the group in her current condition and face the outside alone. 

    "Kid, can I talk to you in private? Doesn't have to be in here if she isn't comfortable," Marge asked me suddenly. Both Jack and I looked up towards her in curiosity. Even Damien stayed silent. We haven't known Marge for long, either. From what I would think knowing her, it was probably about Cynthia as well. But if that was the case, why did she feel the need to talk to me alone?
    "Um, sure. I can step out for a bit," I answered her. I turned to Cynthia, "You good being here by yourself for a bit? Promise it won't take too long." Cynthia looked at me, as if she was staring straight into my eyes searching for something. After a bit of silence, she smiled and nodded, laying down onto her bed. I smiled and turned back to Marge, and the two of us walked out of the room with Jack and Damien following suit. Right outside the room, Marge stopped and turned towards the two guys. "I know you guys will try to listen in, but I really need to speak to the kid in private. Keep guard outside the room, will you?" Marge asked them. Jack raised an eyebrow and Damien became defensive. 
    "Just so things are clear, the kid is originally with us. Whatever you have to say to her, we have a right to know as well," Damien stated. 
    "While I agree with Damien on this, I am just curious as to why it's something you can't talk to all of us about," Jack chimed in. 
    "Jack?! You're gonna agree with this?!" Damien raised his voice, surprised. Marge sighed. 
    "Because this is something that I think only she can really understand. It's something only she can really do anything about," Marge explained herself. Jack and Damien looked taken aback. Honestly, I would feel the same but for some reason I felt more compelled to listen.
    "Guys, just give us a bit, will you?" I asked them, "It isn't like she's gonna cut me into tiny bits and feed me to the reams at this point. Trust her." Jack looked over to me, probably trying to read me. Damien decided to go for a more straight-forward approach.
    "Are you sure, kid? Come on, we deserve to know as well," Damien pleaded, "The group should be informed on everything so that we're all on the same page."
    "So you want to know about female hormones and how to... 'handle' them? You sure you really wanna know about that?" I asked him in return. Damien choked on his spit at my response, and Jack burst out laughing. Marge couldn't hold back either. Damien cleared his voice, attempting to compose himself despite his extremely red face. I couldn't hold back a few snickers myself; I did NOT expect that to be his reaction. I turned back to Marge, "Well, before Damien explodes from how red he is, let's go talk about it, why don't we?" Marge calmed down a bit, nodding in agreement before we headed off to a place further inside the hospital.

    We finally found a small room to talk in. It looked as if it could have been a doctor's office prior to the Catastrophe, with papers strewn about in horrible handwriting across a maple desk. Computer monitors and other pieces of electronic equipment from the old times coated with a grey lining of dust looked almost as if they were frozen to the desk itself. I pull up one of the chairs, dusted it off and sat down. "So, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?" I asked Marge. She didn't answer me straight away; she kept looking around anxiously, as if trying to find the correct words to say. It made me curious as to what she wanted to talk about. 
    "Well," she finally spoke, "I know we haven't known each other for long, but I feel like I need to talk to you about a few things that have been on my mind. Relating to you, in particular."
    "Well, alright then. You have my attention," I told her. She nodded, taking in a deep breath. She exhaled, and asked me: 

    "Do you know anything about Project Z.E.P.H.Y.R?"