[Finished] Living Among the Dead

11. Slabtown

I wake up in a plain white room; so much like a hospital, the sound of ticking echoing in my head.
I blink a couple of times, looking around in confusion. My wrist is bandaged up, as though by a doctor and I have an IV drip in my other arm.
I stand up and limp around, when I look down I see that my ankle has been wrapped more professionally as well. I'm definitely in a hospital room, there's a part of me that wonders if everythings just been a dream; like one of those fever dreams.
If I open the door; I'll be back in a world that still makes sense. My husband, sons and daughter will all still be alive. Hell; I bet their on the other side!
I rush over to the door, and try to pull it open to find it ... locked.
It was all real, then.
I start pounding as hard as I can against the door, trying to break it open. That's when I hear what sounds like a police scanner; so I immediately look around my room for any weapons. None. Okay, breathe, uh.... IV! I pull out the IV from my arm, and brace myself for a fight.
When the door clicks unlocked and a woman in a police uniform walks in, her light brown hair tied back into a tight ponytale and a strict 'no nonsense' look on her face, and a balding man with glasses and a beard following right behind her dressed in a doctor's uniform complete with a stethoscope.
I have my hands and feet in the proper boxing positions, but I wait to make my move, watching them closely.
The man has his hands up and addresses me as though I were a wounded animal, "Everything's okay. Okay?"
My eyes move to the Police Lady, instinctively knowing she's the bigger threat. She seems to know she is, and orders, "Put it down," she's gesturing to my IV Needle I still have clasped in one hand. "Drop it right now." I shrug, dropping the needle, but not my fighting stance.
"I'm Dr. Steven Edwards," the doctor dude puts his hands into his pockets as the lady puts her thumbs in her belt. They're trying to get me calm. I relax my stance, letting my hands fall to my sides, but keep my muscles ready for a fight.
"This is Officer Dawn Lerner. How are you feeling?"
"Where am I?" I snap.
"Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta," Dr. Edwards reponds.
"Atlanta? No. No! How the hell'd I get to Atlanta?"
"My officers found you on the side of the road surrounded by rotters."
"Run! Get out!" I blink back the vision of Daryl fighting off all those corpses. I'll never know if he made it. Just like I'll never know if Mason did.
"Your wrist and ankle were both fractured and you sustained a superficial head wound," Dr. Edwards says. "Can you remember your name?"
"My name?"
"Yes, do you know it?" Dawn asks, coldly.
"It's Antionette. Can I go?"
"If we hadn't saved you, you'd be one of them right now. So you owe us."

Dr. Edwards and I walk into a room with beeping monitors and a respirator hooked up to an unconscious man.
"Couple of them out there were on a run about a week ago. They found two boxes of Bisquick and a Merle Haggard tape at a truck stop, and then this gentleman under a bridge. Cardiac arrest and extreme dehydration.
"And I tried to do what I could," he steps forward and after pushing a few buttons, all the machines turn off.
We stab the guy in the head and move the body to a metal gourney.
"Somebody ran out of dolls to dress up."
I close my eyes deeply and then we wheel the dead guy out of the room. Dawn is talking to another police guy with short black hair.
"Hold up," the Dr. says, and he starts speaking with Dawn. I don't pay much attention, just trying to keep my head down so I can get out; find my son, find Daryl, find Sev.
Breaking out seems like one of my best bets, I recognize the type of people these guys are. They keep you in debted to them so you can never leave.
When we start moving again, I ask the Dr. "How many people do you people have?"
"Just enough to keep us going," is his answer. When he realizes I won't be responding he continues, "Some of us started here, some came as patients. Everyone has a job." Some came as patients... meaning they never left.
We toss the man down an elevator shoot.

When I'm retreiving food for the Doctor, a police guy with salt and pepper hair and eyes that bother me for some strange reason says, "You're looking better and better," I stare him down. "We had a lead on some guns, so me and my partner were pretty far out. That's when we saw you, wriggling in the road." I blink, but don't turn away. "You don't remember me, huh?" Silence. "Yeah, one of them rotters was eyeing your thighs when we showed up. But I got there first. Jacked that rotter up. I'm Gorman." I continue to stare. "When someone does you a favor, it's a courtesy to show some appreciation. Unless you want me to write down everything you're taking. Everything costs something, right?" I ignore him and take the tray, and walk away.
As I'm walking down the hall towards the Doctor's room, I hear Dawn barking orders. "We'll find Joan. Until then, you've got laundry duty and I want my uniform."
A boys voice joins in as they both say, "washed separately and pressed." Dawn stops talking, but the boys' voice says, "I know."
"Smart-ass," is Dawn's response.