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[graveyardboots]

The bombs fall and they hide in a church. Pope declares them chosen and it fits with what Mancea hears; the voice he hears now in the place of the scream of bombs falling.

Then the bombs keep falling and they get separated. He takes Gabe and a corpsman and he runs for the woods. It's instinctive. The corpsman is injured, though, and Mancea finds them a cabin to rest in. But the prognosis isn't good.

"What will we do?" he asks Gabe quietly one night. "I don't think I can save her. God says she is meant for paradise."

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[graveyardboots]

He leans against Gabe a moment, before he lies down. He casts a worried look at Vickers.

"I can keep the faith," he agrees. God hasn't said anything about Vickers getting better, is the thing. But they have to try. They won't just leave her.

At least he has Gabe. There's no one he'd rather be with, even under the circumstances. "I think you'll find your faith too, though."

[minuteofangle]

Gabe hums and lays his hand on Mancea’s shoulder, reaching for his stick with the other. He worries about being on watch; there are things he just doesn’t notice anymore, details he misses that the others wouldn’t. But his hearing is still good despite how many gunshots he’s been around. He has training. And the simple truth is that Mancea needs sleep, too.

“Rest,” he says, instead of making any promises about faith. “I got you.”

He’s always loved Mancea. And for Gabe, love involves trust.

[graveyardboots]

Mancea lays his hand on Gabe's lap, allowing himself this little comfort. He falls asleep that way, and only wakes after few hours, jerking awake hard, reaching for a gun.

[minuteofangle]

“Easy.”

Gabe lays his hand on Mancea’s head, his own voice calm and slow. Controlled. It’s not the first time one of them has startled awake. If it goes violent, that won’t be the first time either.

“It’s just me.”

Vickers is still breathing. Beyond that, Gabe can’t say.

[graveyardboots]

He looks up at Gabe, slowly remembering where they are. He reaches up, brushing his hand along Gabe's cheek. Then he sits up.

"Has Vickers moved?"

[minuteofangle]

"No."

He resists the urge to press into Mancea's hand, to linger here. They have work to do.

"She doesn't sound worse, at least."

[graveyardboots]

That's something. If they can keep her stable maybe she'll mend.

He sighs and rubs his face. "Ready to get to scavenging?"

[minuteofangle]

“Yep.”

Ready as he’ll ever be. Gabe exhales and scrubs at his face again.

“You’re gonna have to guide me. I thought about doing a tether like when we go jogging, but there’re too many ways that could go wrong.”

If they get tangled up on something, they’ll get each other killed.

“So, you’re gonna have to take point. You good with that?”

[graveyardboots]

"All right." Truth be told he prefers taking point with Gabe. He can face danger firsthand, and he can clear the path for Gabe to follow.

He gives Vickers a little water. She stirs only long enough to swallow a few mouthfuls. Better than yesterday, though, even if she still feels feverish.

"Let's go," he murmurs to Gabe once they're packed up. It's a long walk, but he takes his time to be sure Gabe won't stumble.

[minuteofangle]

In the end, they don’t have much fear to pack up. That’s half the problem right there. They’ve gotten separated from the group and now the world’s gone fucking crazy on them, lost the thread in a way the universe doesn’t seem inclined to knot off properly. Maybe this is just the shape the world’s going to take now.

Gabe packs what shit he can and gets his stick. And when the time comes, he takes Mancea’s arm. This part, at least, he’s good at. “No big risks without big rewards,” he murmurs. “Let’s agree now.”

[graveyardboots]

"Getting saline for you and antibiotics for Vickers is a big reward," he says, so Gabe knows where Mancea's head is at. He's going to provide for his people if he possibly can.

"But I'll tell you the numbers and the risks when we find them and you can tell me if it's worth it."

[minuteofangle]

Gabe puffs out a breath. Worst part is he can't argue. They need medical supplies. Vickers might die. Will probably die no matter what they do. And Mancea's cut needs to be treated properly or he might get sick too, compounding the issue.

Nothing here is without risk. Not a single goddamn thing.

"Okay," he agrees unhappily. This is just where they find themselves. "But leave the heroics to me, kay?"

[graveyardboots]

Leave the heroics to him? He's not sure he can do that. "I have a full clip," he says, looking down at his gun. "I'll take point."

[minuteofangle]

Gabe makes a face. “Just don’t use it if you don’t need it,” he says after a moment. “They’re attracted to sound, you noticed that?”

[graveyardboots]

"I have," he nods. It worries him. His people are noisy sleepers sometimes. "I only have one knife left though."

[minuteofangle]

“I’ve got a a punch knife and my stick.”

Not good. He had a taser when this started but discovered that did fuck all for the dead. It wasn’t a pleasant revelation.

Gabe squeezes Mancea’s arm. They’re in trouble, he knows. “We’re gonna have to keep someone on watch when we get back with the others just to make sure the others don’t make too much noise.”

[graveyardboots]

Their options are so limited. And God isn't saying anything right now, it's just the two of them, no golden warm feeling to let him know God is with them.

"We still have the dogs. That will help." They sleep easier when the dogs cuddle them to sleep. "I can see the hospital," he says, looking at the top of the building over the treeline. He can't hear the dead moaning, not yet.

[minuteofangle]

Showtime. Gabe centers himself, breathing out slow. He can’t hear much of anything beyond their footfalls. “Describe it.”

[graveyardboots]

He proceeds forward carefully. "It's four stories," he says. "I think the pharmacy will be on the ground floor."

And it's probably been looted but maybe not everything is gone.

[minuteofangle]

Four stories. Okay. Gabe nods slowly, thinking back to all the hospitals he's ever been in.

"Should be big doors," he says. "Decent sight lines. It on fire?"

A lot of places still are, though he can't smell any smoke.

[graveyardboots]

"No," he says, and counts it a miracle. "But one wing has taken a direct hit."

There's rubble everywhere but it looks stable enough.

"Two rotters," he murmurs, pausing to watch them.