To Be A Hero

Chapter 14: With A Little Help From My Friends

"Okay, Five. Um, no zombies in sight now that you've dealt with those undead pharmacists." Maxine scoffs. "And Sam was worried about our handling a simple mission like this without him. He's turning into such a worrywart. I told him all we needed was for Five to head to the pharmacy to get a few things, and here you are!"

"This is stupid," I grumble. "I was literally in here yesterday. I mean, we got you four full backpacks of meds, Max! And there weren't any pharmacists yesterday either! I could be finishing my book right now."

"You mean that romance book that you can't read in front of anyone because your face turns so red people ask if you're alright?" She teases, and my shoulders scrunch up in embarrassment. "And those pharmacists were trapped in the supply closet with all the blood thinners, which were one of the things you didn't get on that med run."

I sigh. "I know. I'm just grouchy today. You'll have to forgive me."

"Well, maybe this will make you feel better. Something's definitely going on after you and Owen found that Netrophil list. I keep walking in on these excited conversations that just go quiet, which means it must have something to do with the cure. No one wants to get our hopes up."

I rub my arm nervously. "Can you blame them? I mean, Max, I know we don't always see eye to eye on things, but promising a cure for Paula and not being able to deliver... that would break you. You're strong, yeah, but it's Paula. They just want to keep you from having your hopes crushed."

"I know, but, Five, I know what's coming. I know what will happen if we don't find a cure. I just don't like feeling like I'm being shut out, ya know?"

"Yeah. I feel ya." I take a look around. "Um, is there anything else you want me to get from here? I mean, there's not much else here now besides laxatives, so-"

"No, get some of them too. Late pregnancy, man."

I cringe, grabbing the laxatives. "Definitely not something I needed to know, but okay."

"I love how this is the type of stuff that grosses you out, considering all the stuff you've seen," She laughs, and I shrug in reply.

"Yeah, well, I'm special like that."

"Yeah. Well, since there's not much to be taken now, you should probably start heading back..." Her voice fades out as static fills my ears. "Sorry. I must've leaned back too far and jogged the microphone cord loose again. Janine'd probably tell me off for putting my feet on the desk, but it's not like...." More static. "...and I've been thinking about all... being a mom and I can't even get that far, because I don't even know who's going to be here a month from now. And seriously, Five, swollen ankles are the worst..."

"Is anyone there?" A nasally voice asks through the static. It sounds oddly familiar. "Please, I need help!"

"That's weird," Maxine mutters. "The cord's not even loose."

I blink. "Uh, Max..."

"Can you hear me? This is Ian Golightly of the New Times. I need help!"

"Oh!" Maxine gasps. "I mean, um, this is Abel Township. We can hear you. What's going on?"

"Abel! This is Ian Golightly, reporter, New Times. I wrote a piece once on your runners. I interviewed uh, Runner Five, I think."

So that's why he sounds so familiar.

"Oh, I know what you're talking about. Our regular operator keeps a copy taped up by his bed," She says.

"I'm in trouble. I'm in a bin behind a bar up on Walnut Road. I was chased by zombies. I climbed in here, and the lid only opens from the outside, so I'm stuck."