"Nngh…" Margaret groaned, flopping over on the dinghy mattress and shifting her arm from besides her to over her eyes. Her throat was dry, and she swallowed to wet it. Something was tapping at the edge of her hearing. No, not tapping…Knocking, a set of three knocks. And then again. Squinting into the darkness, she heard yet another set of three knocks, quiet taps against the door of her trailer.
"What in the hell…" She muttered with a heavy sigh, pushing herself up from the bed, the blanket falling from around her shoulders as she swung her legs over the edge. Eyes laden with sleep, she yawned tiredly, bare feet padding against the floor with each step, until she reached the door and reached for the handle.
The door opened with a creak, and she saw a figure standing in the darkness just outside, hand raised to knock again, but it lowered when she appeared.
"…Law?" She asked in confusion, cocking her head to get a better look at the bag he had slung over his shoulder. The hell? Margaret stepped down from the inside of the trailer down the few steps leading to the outside. "What are you doing here? Is there a problem?"
She glanced down at her tank top and sleep shorts, crossing her arms over her chest for a semblance of coverage. Law slowly shook his head, silently staring at the ground, as if making up his mind about something.
"Shachi and Penguin…they want to stay." He admitted, sparing her a single glance, as if to judge her reaction. "They think this place could be their home."
"They couldn't…" Her sentence was broken by a long yawn, which she covered with a hand. "…have waited until the morning to tell me that?"
Law said nothing, just stood there looking uncomfortable, and strangely angry at something she couldn't explain. "We need to talk." He finally replied. The seriousness in his tone and the way he held himself was a bit sobering, and Margaret brushed back her hair into a better semblance of normal, before clearing her throat.
"Can't this wait until-"
"No."
Margaret stared at his face for a few moments, trying to gauge what was on the man's mind. There was almost no emotion showing through those gray orbs, and no matter how long she stared, she couldn't tell what it was he wanted exactly. Whatever it was, apparently he felt it was urgent though.
"Well, come on in then." She reluctantly invited, waving a hand for him to follow after her into the trailer. Her bare feet ascended the few steps back inside, and the trailer shifted as Law made his entrance, the added weight tilting it for a moment before redistributing it across the vehicle.
"Alright, care to explain why you've woken me up so late? Carrying all your stuff?" She gestured to the bag, before going over to a shelf and pulling off a little lantern, lighting it up to illuminate the interior of the trailer.
"Like I said before, the others want to stay." He started, almost unsure of where to begin, and what he wanted to say to her exactly. As if he hadn't planned this far. Maybe he hadn't.
"That's great to hear." She admitted, rubbing at her left eye. "We would love to have them stay. I'll assign them their own trailer in the morning, but…what about you? You make it sound like you're-"
"I'm…" He started, cutting her off, but still seeming to hesitate, working his jaw as if it were difficult to simply get the words out. Then, he sighed, shifting the bag on his shoulder. "I'm staying. We're all staying."
She paused, raising her eyebrows in surprise. "You…you are?" She questioned, with a little laugh. "If I'm being honest, I'm a little surprised. I didn't think you actually would." He narrowed his eyes at that, and she rushed to clarify. "I mean, you told me right from the get go how much you didn't trust us here."
"I still don't." Law said, allowing a bit of the anger and suspicion to seep into his stare. "Shachi and Penguin are the only reason I'm staying. This is what they want, and I'll respect that. Unless I'm unsatisfied that you're not hiding anything. Which is why you need to answer a few of my concerns before I go back. If I don't like what I hear, I'm changing my mind and leaving."
"Hmm." She hummed, running an exhausted hand through her hair in irritation. Why couldn't this have waited another 6 hours or so? "Alright, well I guess now's as good a time as any…" She muttered beneath her breath. Regardless, she gestured to her kitchen table, where there were two chairs facing each other. "Take a seat."
He did so, placing his back to the wall strategically, a move that she did not miss. Always the wary survivor, it seemed. Margaret took her seat opposite of Law, easing into the chair with a groan. "What is it you want to know exactly? I'll answer what I can."
"Is there a pharmacy or clinic anywhere near here, or just the hospital?" Law inquired first, his tone carefully neutral. First and foremost on his mind was what lay hidden in his pack, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't extremely curious as to how she'd react. She quirked a brow, no doubt confused as to what his question had to do with anything.
"Just…the hospital. The nearest clinic is about 25 miles north or so…Why does that matter?"
"Is that where you found all of your medications, then?" He continued on, ignoring her question.
"Yes, we sent our scavengers to the hospital in town, though I don't see how that-" But whatever she was about to say next was cut off by his shaking head.
"Then you and I have a small problem." With that, he set his bag on his lap and unzipped the top, reaching in and grabbing white bottles, placing them on the table one by one."Sertraline…Lorazepam…Doxycycline…Metformin…" He named off, placing them all down on the table between them.
"You…you stole…" She bit her lip, frowning as he lined up the various bottles of medication that he'd obviously stolen at some point during his time in the infirmary. Taking a few bottle off the shelf had child's play, especially with a ditzy woman like Tara keeping track of their inventory. There hadn't even been a list of the total bottles they did have, leaving no trace of what had been taken in the first place.
The worry that past over her eyes was brief, but enough to see that it had indeed been there. Good, he thought. They were getting somewhere.
He looked back up to hold her gaze. "All of these are specialty medications only available through prescriptions," He explained with a bland look. "none of which would be in a hospital. Only pharmacies have targeted medications like these."
"Maybe they were moved from the clinic to the hospital for some reason." She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. The gesture was a sign of lying, of putting distance between herself and whatever was making her uncomfortable. Another step in the direction Law was hoping for.
"Is that the story you're going to stick with?" His doubt radiated off of his features, fully intending to portray just how much of a liar he believed her to be. Unconvinced was a serious understatement. "Maybe I overestimated how smart you were then."
Margaret stared down at the bottles silently, searching the labels for anything that could help her with the situation at hand. The cruel part of him was very pleased to see her uncomfortable, figuratively squirming, looking for a way out of all of these accusations without coming across as a liar. He cleared his throat, gaining her attention again.
"Another thing that's been on my mind since we arrived," he continued on with an exasperated chuckle, "is how a place like this could possibly afford to take in so many people, all the while dwindling their supplies down to nothing."
Margaret opened her mouth to reply, but Law continued on. "Not to mention, how are all these people so calm about almost running out of food? They're a week away from starving, and a few motivational words from you can ease all their worries?"
"We've been tight on supplies before." She tried explaining with a slow shake of her head. "This isn't the first time we've had to stretch our rations a bit thin and double up on scavenging trips. My people are used to it."
A fair enough explanation, but not quite good enough for him to believe.
"Used to what exactly?" He pressed, leaning back in his chair comfortably. The light of the lantern flickered over his face, defining the bags under his eyes in the low, yellow light. "Being on the brink of starvation? Or turning to drastic measures in order to fix that?"
Margaret's face was also illuminated by the lantern, but her features took on a much more exhausted and worried expression. And…guilt, he recognized with interest. Oh, she was definitely hiding something. She sighed, holding the side of her head in her hands tiredly. "There are some thing you don't understand about this place, Law."
"Enlighten me, then."
Perhaps wanting to look away from his criticizing eyes, she idly picked up one of the bottles and turned it back and forth, averting her eyes. "Look, seeing as you're new around here, I get it. You want to know how the finer things work. You want to know that we aren't going to kill you. And we're not," she tried, giving him a pointed look, "but seeing as you've only come in yesterday, and I don't even have faith that you'll stay, how do you expect me to answer questions like that?" Her irritation was beginning to show through, in an effort of diverting his curiosities elsewhere. But it did little in the way of slowing his verbal assault.
"You need a doctor. An actual doctor, judging by the handiwork of…Tara." His eyes narrowed, as if even saying her name was unpleasant. "I'm willing to bet it'll be sometime before another qualified doctor comes by, seeking shelter."
There was nothing she could say to that, and so she kept silent, knowing that he was right. He was the best doctor they'd be able to have, and there was a very good possibility that he wouldn't stay. Law's skills were invaluable, something very easy to gamble with when it was put on the table.
"You want me to stay? You tell me the truth. About everything." He concluded, that stern expression never wavering."
Nonetheless, she still denied the accusations of lying. "I have told you-"
"Margaret." He cut off again, in that infuriating way. As Law had quickly proved to her, he could read her like an open book. Besides, if he were to stay, he'd find out the truth soon or later, even if everyone else was tight lipped about it. His innate curiosity and the need to know that he was in a safe place, that his family was in a safe place, overtook any desire to blindly find good where there may not even be any.
For a long time there was silence between them. The black-haired woman kept her face strategically hidden by the darkness, her head turned just enough that the light of the lantern couldn't catch it. But Law waited patiently, holding his breath in anticipation.
It didn't matter how sure of himself he sounded to her, how much he tried to play into the act that he was in charge here, because in the end he wasn't. Besides having his skills on the table, there was nothing else he could hold over her, no other evidence besides the medication, to convince her to tell him what was going on. This was a stretch, a huge overstepping of his boundaries. But hey, that had never stopped him before. Go big or go home-so to speak.
"There used to be more of us, not too long ago." She said vaguely, tilting her head with each turn of the medicine bottle in her hands. There was a note of that guilt again, overlaid in the sound of her exhaustion. "A second camp."
"Where?" He asked, relieved that his plan had worked. She was talking. Even if it wasn't everything, he could do with more information, whatever it may be.
"It was to the north. About five miles or so." She twisted at the cap idly, eyes heavy with sleep or sorrow. Law couldn't tell, really. "Originally, we were all together in the same place."
"Here?" Law questioned, unable to imagine too many other people being able to fit in such a small place. For as big as it was, there was only enough room for a certain number of people, maxed out at how many you could fit into the trailers at night.
Margaret shook her head. "No. We used to be holed up in this warehouse, along the highway. There were probably…thirty…forty of us…"
"You split up the group." He guessed, and she nodded slowly.
"As what happens with large groups, there were high tensions beginning to grow, differences in the way the group wanted to be governed. We all came to a decision, to split the people in half, and develop our own communities as we saw fit.
"My group found this campground and the others barricaded this old police station not too far from the warehouse." She placed the bottle back on the table, sliding it slowly over back to Law. "We kept our distance, but not too far. Close enough to give each other support, trade supplies. Far enough away to be our own separate camps, and to not run into each other too much while scavenging. That was the deal."
"What happened to the second camp, then?" He asked, expecting a sad tale of the zombies overtaking them, and Margaret predictably looked away, the subject obviously a little touchy.
"Um…we…my group happened."
Law frowned with confusion. For several seconds, she avoided his gaze, before coughing and standing suddenly. "If we're gonna talk about this, I need a drink…" He heard her mutter, watching as she wandered to the cupboard and dug out a bottle of some kind of alcohol, and a shot glass. The bottle looked about half full. Obviously she saved it for occasions such as this, when the only thing to do was ignore the feelings with drink.
Returning to the table, she unashamedly poured herself a shot before his eyes. The liquid rose until just below the lip of the glass before she stopped pouring. Setting the bottle back on the table, she downed the liquid with a disgusted face, but let out an 'ahh' right afterwards, trying to rid herself of the harsh taste in her mouth.
She held out the shot glass for him to take, silently offering him one, but he shook his head. It had been some time since he'd last had a drink, not to mention he'd prefer to have all his wits about him while in her presence. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally get drunk while she was around. Or just drunk in general. These were dangerous times after all. At least she didn't seem too upset about him turning it down. Shrugging with indifference, Margaret poured herself another shot, and it quickly followed the first.
She slammed the shot glass back onto the table with a cough, before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Let me just clarify, you're a bastard. I'll be hungover late into the morning because of you…"
Law didn't bother replying to her insult, though it sounded much more affectionate than an actual dig at his character. He only shrugged, waiting for her to continue.
"They called themselves the Monroe Township." She started with a yawn. "While my group wanted a single leader, they wanted a council to make decisions. It worked for them, for the most part."
"How do you know?" Law asked. It seemed strange that, being separated groups, Margaret knew so much about the second camp.
"I visited a few times, with the council, to talk about trading and stuff like that. But that doesn't matter." She waved her hand, dismissing the topic. "The point is, they were closer to the highway, they had better access to the neighboring city. Scavenging was a lot easier, and they had better defenses in that police station.
"My group…we had trouble finding food out here. The forest doesn't leave many options, besides the occasional animal and whatever we can grow in the garden." Her eyes took on a clarity that contradicted the two shots she'd already downed, as well as the third she was in the process of pouring. "I wasn't lying before. My people are used to going hungry, to not having enough to eat."
"Fair enough." Law admitted, knowing that no one was truly well off nowadays. Hell, even they had grown used to the constant rumbling in their stomachs over the past few months or so, always wanting just a little bit more than they could afford to have. And he couldn't see anything but her desire for him to understand. This, at least, was the Margaret that he felt he could trust what she said. A half-drunk, sleepy, and slightly irritated Margaret.
"Every time I went over to meet with them, I couldn't help but notice how much food they had…" her eyes took on a faraway look, and she shook her bottle of alcohol with each word, still angry at something he couldn't see. "Every…single…time…that I went over. And I had to go back to my people each time and figure out how to find us that much food, how to tell them that we weren't doing so well."
Law was about to say something, but she had only paused to breathe. "And it wasn't just the food! Guns, medicine, clothing and beds, you name it. They had more of it. And I could never…understand why…"
"They picked a more advantageous place to call home." Law reasoned, shrugging in complete understanding. "Are you the one who thought to stay here in this campground?"
Margaret nodded mutely, staring at the bottle in her hand with guilt and hatred. "I thought…I thought we could stay away from most of the zombies that way. There were a lot of them back then, a whole lot more." Her lips split into a rueful smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Sure, we're safe, but it just turns out that this place is slowly starving us to death at the same time."
"It was a poor decision." Law agreed, figuring that she already knew that though. Her small glare sent in his direction told him so, but he only shrugged. "You may not want to hear it but that's all on you. Own up to it."
Her heavy sigh responded. "Yeah, no shit. Thanks for that."
"So, what exactly happened next?" He prompted her to continue, noticing she'd gotten a bit sidetracked. The question made her fold her feet beneath herself, sitting crosslegged on the kitchen chair.
"Well…we got to a point, maybe a few months or so ago…where we ran out of food and most of our supplies. No matter how many times I sent people out, we couldn't find jack shit." Her eyes narrowed, as if kicking herself over it, as if it were her fault they couldn't find anything. Then, her expression to changed, shaking her head with another fake grin, chuckling humorlessly under her breath. "And you know what we did about that?"
Wordlessly, Law raised a brow, silently encouraging her to continue, to finish her tale, and she slammed the bottle back onto the table to punctuate her words.
"We raided the second camp. Took everything they had in the middle of the night, killed whoever we had to to do it. And you know who's idea that was?" Her eyes had taken on a deranged quality, the guilt fueling most of the conversation at this point. Despite the crazy gleam, that sadness persisted behind them. "Mine! All my idea. And you know what? People went with it! People. Fucking. Went. With. It.
"It wasn't like they were strangers, oh no. We knew them. Each and every one of them…" Her head began shaking slowly back and forth, and she stared at the table mindlessly. "But they had so many supplies, so many medications they'd gotten from the next town…we took it all, and we've done just fine since then. We didn't starve, and we were able to treat our sick…" She rambled on. Once she started it seemed unlikely that she would stop, but Law wanted to hear everything, and it seemed that Margaret was in the talkative mood, especially after the liquid courage started flowing.
Her eyes watered, and a single tear trailed down one cheek. "I know I'm going to hell, no questions. At this point, I've made my peace with that, but I have to do something to make it right…you know?" A hand ruffled her bed-crumpled hair. "I've been welcoming anyone who comes through, to try to help people again. To repent…
"Sometimes…I can't even look myself in the mirror over there…" She gestured behind her, where a hand mirror was fastened to the wall. Margaret wiped at the tears that now flowed freely, trying to rid herself of the moisture blurring her vision.
"Do they know?" Law asked quietly, arms crossed over his chest with all the information he was being given. He'd expected something…but not quite that.
"Not everyone but…enough." She answered through a choked sob. "Everyone who was a part of the plan…the guards, Tara, the repairmen…they all know. The rest…I don't think so…"
Law sighed deeply, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. They'd been up talking for awhile, and the time of night was finally starting to get to him, as well as the lack of sleep for several days. It was a lot to take in, as he'd thought before…but strangely, he wasn't as suspicious of Margaret after hearing a drunken recounting of her sins. The explanation was almost relieving.
His gray eyes regarded the black-haired, broken, vulnerable woman before him, once again torn as to what to do. She'd admitted to doing something that he didn't quite sit well with, but he understood her mindset. After all, he'd do just about anything to keep Shachi and Penguin alive. Faulting her for doing the same for her people would have been hypocritical.
"I believe you." He answered quietly after a long pause, sighing as he stood from his seat. "Maybe I should, but I do believe you." He'd heard enough for the time being. Now, he just had to decide what the next step was. Leaving Woodsville behind or carrying on with a nomadic life as they'd done up to this point. Except this time, there would be no one there for him. No one to watch his back. No one to…
"What are you gonna do?" She sobbed, sniffling and wiping away the tears with shaky hands. "Will you stay?"
The question was filled with hope. Hope for him to stay and help them. Hope that he would understand the decisions she'd had to make for the sake of others. Hope that she'd done the right thing, her eyes searching his for some kind of answer to her questions that went unvoiced, but he had none for her. His eyes found the floor of the trailer, wanting to avoid the scathing and pleading that he could see in hers.
"…" The silence grew thick and uncomfortable as he thought about his answer. Honestly, either way he was screwing himself over. There was no right answer here, no right way to go about this. Fuck…
Law eventually looked back up to Margaret, who stared openly, fingers clenched around the neck of the bottle in anticipation for an answer, but he turned and headed towards the door of her trailer, not bothering to look her way again. "Good night, Margaret."
The door opened with a twist of the knob, and he could hear her begin sobbing again behind him. Ignoring the pained sound, he walked outside and into the night. Adjusting the grip on his bag, he stopped just outside of Margaret's trailer, looking towards the front gate of the camp. A guard stood posted on each trailer directly next to it, staring out into the forest silently.
Now was the time to decide, to pick which hell he'd like to endure. The familiar danger of keeping on the move, zombies at every corner…or placing a tentative trust in others for the first time in a long time. He sighed, eyes staring hard at the barricaded metal gate.
That hard lump in his throat moved to his chest, aching with every thought of what could happen. There were so many unknowns here, and he hated every minute of it. Why couldn't things go back to being the simple run-shoot-survive that it used to be? Things didn't used to be so complicated.
You walk out that gate, you'll never see them again. He thought morosely, eyes drifting over to the guest trailer where his companions slept. The ache in his chest grew, to where it physically hurt to breathe. This was his family, the two people he cared about most in the world, and he was on the verge of walking away forever, practically abandoning them. All for his own safety.
'It's not like he hasn't thought of himself this entire time…' He recalled Penguin saying bitterly. He hadn't been wrong. It was true, even if he himself didn't know it until now.
Think of them for once. It's time you stopped being their leader and started being their friend.
Squaring his shoulders, Law tore himself from the spot in front of Margaret's trailer and headed back towards where Shachi and Penguin, his family, lay sleeping. And even as the pit in his stomach dropped, feeling as if something were going to go wrong right at that moment, he pushed it aside and approached the metal vehicle, opening the door to return to bed.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
