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THE SMELL OF COLD and damp assaulted their senses, the moment they set foot inside the theatre. Their new environment was dark and dreary, though it was a prize in comparison to the dangerous situation they had just escaped. The building was silent, potentially completely free of infected. The only noise that filled the air alongside the gasping breaths of the three girls was the creaking of wooden panels that acted as the theatre's foundation.
"How you doing? You okay?" Danielle inquired in deep concern as she sat down on the musty couch next to a worn out, exhausted looking Dina.
With a hand placed upon her chest, the fast paced thumping of her heart just below, the dark haired girl haggardly breathed out, "I'm just really tired."
The fall Dina had taken only moments ago as her knees buckled before she plummeted to the ground had really unsettled Danielle. Yes, she was a doctor but pregnancy and all it entailed had never really been her forte nor did she have the necessary medical supplies on hand should the pregnancy take a more somber turn.
With only the comforting act of words and the gentle rubbing of her hand alongside the dark haired girls back, Danielle just nodded her head. "I know. This place seems safe though. You should be able to rest soon."
Ellie had returned from her quick sweep of the perimeter and now stood in front of the pair, her hunter green eyes observing them as the conversed. She cleared her thought, though her voice remained a little ragged. "You want to tell me what's going on with you?"
"What's going on with me?" The question had been aimed at Dina who wasted absolutely no time in answering back, a trembling bottom lip appearing as she vocalised her thoughts. "Ellie... we just saw you breath spores."
The redheads pupils shook, her voice quieting down to a softer tone. "I told you. I'm immune."
Immunity had only ever been theorised and it hadn't lasted long. Danielle could remember the times she would eavesdrop upon the conversations of the old timers of the WLF, each one filled with the sordid details of their previous transgressions. They would chatter amongst themselves of the experiments on the infected the government had done not long after the outbreak, that had amounted to absolutely nothing.
No cure had been found, no reason to believe these people could ever return to their previous selves. They were just gone. That had been the case for every single victim of infection since the outbreak began twenty five years ago.
So the idea that the girl that stood in front of her now, the girl who had dragged her to Seattle as she reluctantly followed in some vain attempt to ease the gnawing guilt that was burrowed deep within, the girl who had unknowingly become one of Danielle's favourite people whether she knew it or not, —the idea that she was immune to infection was positively absurd and yet there she stood, unaffected by the spores that had invaded her lungs.
