Chapter Text
Twenty minutes later, the four-person team returns to the nurse's office, their field packs filled with supplies. Liz steps forward to make her report to Evelyn as the other three settle down in various places around the office, her face set with determination.
"We managed to take out the guard without any issues," Liz begins softly, mindful of Taylor's sleeping form. "Dragged his body into a nearby alley and hid it behind a dumpster to hopefully buy us time making them have to figure out where he went or if he's even alive since there will be some blood stains on the pavement in front of the gate. We grabbed his Glock-17 and a couple of spare magazines since our resources are currently limited."
Evelyn nods, her eyes searching Liz's face for any signs of complications. "And the raid itself?"
"The clinic raid went smoothly. Casey pried open the supply room door after we located it on the second floor. We grabbed all the necessities on Bree's list—saline solution, antibiotics, Toradol, Morphine, syringes, antiseptic wipes, bandages," Liz continues, her voice steady. "Also gathered a bunch of opioid prescriptions and trashed the place to make it look like addicts raided the clinic. We trashed a couple of doors on our way out and broke the front glass entrance door. Should divert suspicion and give us more time before anyone realizes who actually took the medical supplies we needed and become aware of our existence."
"Bree, start prepping Taylor for a longer distance transport," Evelyn instructs, her tone unwavering.
Bree nods and quickly pulls out one of the Morphine syringes. "Captain, I'm going to inject some of this into Taylor," she explains. "It'll help with the pain and likely make her drowsy, so there's less risk of her waking up during the move." She carefully administers the shot, ensuring the dosage is just right for someone of Taylor's build before continuing with other preparations to stabilize Taylor for transport.
Meanwhile, Evelyn turns her attention to the rest of the team. "We're going to need a secure location in the city to hunker down. Ideas?"
Casey speaks up first. "What about an old factory on the outskirts? They're usually abandoned and spacious, should give us plenty of room to move around."
Maya nods thoughtfully. "Or we could try an old warehouse near the docks. It's secluded and not many people go there."
Tori adds her suggestion last. "We could look for a derelict public building—like one of those old libraries or schools that got shut down. They’re usually forgotten and off the radar."
Liz considers for a moment before speaking. "There's also an option to use one of the abandoned apartment buildings around the docks area. The docks are full of deserted places, and it would offer us adequate cover along with multiple rooms we can set up in."
Evelyn listens carefully to all suggestions, evaluating each one. Suddenly, her wrist-mounted interface lights up with four new Mission Task notifications, each marking a location on the map:
1. Abandoned Factory: A marker appears on the outskirts, highlighting a derelict factory.
2. Old Warehouse: Another marker pinpoints a warehouse near the docks.
3. Derelict Public Building An old, closed-off library in the western center of town lights up on the map.
4. Abandoned Apartment Building: The final marker highlights a deserted apartment complex near the docks.
Evelyn mulls over the options, her tactical mind weighing the pros and cons of each location. After considering for a few moments finally decides to go with the fourth task, which crosses out the other three options and removes the markers for their locations, she looks up at the team and decisively says, "We're going with the abandoned apartment building near the docks. It'll offer us enough cover and space to adequately treat Taylor without attracting too much attention. Let's move."
Evelyn and the team quickly check their gear, ensuring everything is in place. She then turns to Tori, "Alright, Tori, you take Taylor. Everyone else, be ready for any trouble we might run into."
Tori let's her rifle go, letting it hang from the sling against her abdomen and leans down towards the unconscious girl hoisting Taylor into her arms with care, adjusting her grip to make sure the girl is secure in a fireman's carry. Evelyn leads the group out of the nurse's office, moving silently through the deserted hallways of Winslow High. They all know there's no point in trying to cover their tracks—the damage is too extensive and the filth too pervasive. The hallway where they found Taylor remains a grim testament to the horrors she endured.
As they exit the school and step into the cool night air, Evelyn signals a direction towards the docks. The city around them is quiet, punctuated only by distant sounds of urban life. The first few minutes of their journey are uneventful, as they keep to the shadows and avoid well-lit areas. Tori carefully carries Taylor, keeping her movements smooth to avoid jostling the injured girl.
They continue making their way through the darkened streets, the team's senses on high alert for any signs of danger. Each team member moves with a cautious step keeping as quiet as possible, blending seamlessly into the night as they head for their objective.
The squad moves stealthily through the dark streets, around three quarters of the way to their objective. Just as they are about to cross a street, a sudden rush of several sirens pierces the night. Evelyn raises her hand in a swift signal and the team immediately backtracks into a nearby alley, taking cover behind some large trash bins and some pieces of broken, discarded furniture.
They peer cautiously out to watch the street as the sirens grow louder. After a couple of tense minutes, two police cars and an ambulance speed past them, their emergency lights briefly lighting the alley they're in with a red and blue hue as they go past, heading southwest towards downtown. Evelyn murmurs quietly, "Stay hidden until they pass."
After the vehicles disappear down the street and around a corner leaving the street dark and dimly lit once more, with very sporadic street lights the further into the docks they go, she nods to her team. "Let’s keep moving. We're still on a tight schedule."
The team continues their journey with purpose, cutting through alleyways and sticking to the shadows. They finally reach their destination: an old, four-story apartment building, its exterior marred by years of neglect. Broken windows gape like empty eye sockets, while layers of dust and dirt coat the facade. Inside, the air is stale and heavy, filled with the musty scent of decay.
Evelyn pushes open the broken front door, which swings ajar with a creak. "Let's move quickly," she orders. The team steps over discarded debris and shattered furniture as they ascend the staircase. Each step echoes faintly in the empty halls along with the crunching of boots walking over broken shards of glass and wood, adding to the building's eerie atmosphere.
Upon reaching the third floor, they begin their search for a suitable apartment. Most units are in severe disrepair—couches overturned, tables split in half, walls marked with graffiti. Eventually, they find a slightly less ruined apartment.
Evelyn surveys the room with a critical eye. "Alright, team, check the other apartments on this floor. Make sure there aren't any squatters around," she orders sharply.
Liz, Maya, and Tori promptly exit to carry out the task, leaving Evelyn, Bree, and Casey in the apartment. Evelyn gestures to the bedroom. "Let's set Taylor up in here. Bree, Casey, let's clean this place up a bit."
Bree sets Taylor down gently and immediately begins shaking the dust off the old mattress. Meanwhile, Casey starts wiping down surfaces with discarded clothing found in the room, clearing space for their medical equipment.
Evelyn uses a makeshift broom fashioned from a broken chair leg and some rags to clear the floor, ensuring that dust and debris are kept to a minimum. As they work efficiently, Bree checks occasionally on Taylor's condition, ensuring that she's stable. The room starts to look at least marginally cleaner as they prepare it for a more extended stay.
Casey takes the cleaner mattress and lays it back on the bed frame, ensuring it's as sanitary as they can make it under the circ*mstances. Bree begins preparing to treat Taylor more thoroughly. She first opens a packet of disinfectant wipes, rubbing her hands meticulously before slipping on a pair of latex gloves with a snap.
Carefully, Bree starts removing the old bandages from Taylor's battered body. The sight of the wounds causes her to frown; some areas show signs of inflammation and redness. She cleanses each wound with precision, making sure to thoroughly but gently remove any dried blood and dirt that might have settled in.
Bree then squeezes a dollop of antibiotic cream onto her gloved fingers, meticulously rubbing it into each wound. She watches closely as the cream is absorbed into Taylor's torn skin, noting the areas most in need of further care. Once the initial treatment is complete, she wraps Taylor's wounds with fresh bandages, securing them snugly but carefully.
As Bree continues her work, she moves her attention down Taylor's body, her eyes scanning for any additional injuries that may have been missed initially. She checks for bruising, cuts, or signs of internal injury, ensuring no detail is left unchecked.Casey and Evelyn step out of the bedroom, leaving Bree to work. They move quietly, inspecting the other rooms of the apartment for anything useful or potentially hazardous. As they go about their task, Bree remains focused on treating Taylor.
Bree peels off her gloves, now covered with a mixture of blood and ointment, discarding them carefully. She pulls on a fresh pair, ensuring they fit snugly before she continues. Turning her attention to the IV kits they retrieved from the clinic, she unpacks one with practiced precision. She sets up the IV pole, carefully hooking the IV bag onto it. She then prepares the needle and tubing, making sure everything is sterilized before she inserts the needle gently into Taylor's vein. Bree watches closely as the IV drip begins to flow, ensuring there are no issues with the setup.
Once satisfied, she adjusts the position of the IV bag, placing it next to the bedhead to ensure it remains elevated properly and close to Taylor. Bree steps back for a moment to assess her work, then returns to Taylor's side, a vial of toradol from the stolen medical supplies as well as one of the syringes, her fingers deftly handling the sterile packaging as she tears it open. The vial of Toradol glints under the dim light; she swabs the top with an antiseptic wipe before carefully inserting the needle. She draws back the plunger, filling the syringe with a precise dose of the anti-inflammatory drug.
Leaning over Taylor, Bree finds a suitable vein, her gloved hands steady. The needle pierces skin smoothly, and she slowly depresses the plunger, injecting the medication into Taylor's system. Bree watches closely for any adverse reactions while the toradol begins its work to reduce inflammation and provide additional pain relief.
Once the injection is administered, Bree withdraws the needle gently and places a small piece of gauze over the puncture site, taping it down. She then checks all of Taylor’s bandages again to ensure they are secure, her meticulous care evident as she goes through each step with a practiced precision.
