Caleb stared at his father, unable to think, unable to move, feeling detached and disoriented, and afraid. He was distantly aware of his brother yelling behind him and grabbing his arm, but couldn't look away from his father's eyes. They bore into him, as hard and as sharp as flint. Glaring at him as if he were a stranger.
And the word just popped out.
"D-dad?"
As soon as it left his mouth, Caleb felt his brother's hand clench tight on his arm, and realized it may not have been the smartest thing to say.
Samuel's brown eyes shot wide open at the word, then his heavy brows lowered darkly as his mouth twisted in a sneer.
"Joshua," he said sharply, his voice rough. His eyes never left Caleb's, and never softened, though confusion had joined the hardness there.
And Caleb suddenly realized that his dad didn't recognize him. Couldn't recognize him. And the strangest, most wonderful feeling of relief rose in the hazy mess of his mind.
"Yes sir?" his brother answered, and the grip tightened on Caleb's arm.
Ouch.
"Explain."
Joshua shifted beside him. "Uh."
Caleb stood there, swaying slightly. He felt like throwing up. Not just because his father was staring him down with a naked malevolence, but because his thoughts were floating around his head like drunken bees. His body felt like it belonged to someone else.
That's 'cause it does.
No no... not thinking about that...
"Joshua," Samuel growled, this time low and drawn out. A warning. Those hard eyes flicked away from Caleb to settle on his brother, bringing another rush of relief.
"This is... Eric," Joshua said quickly. "He's been examined, he's clean, been hit on the head... little confused..."
Joshua's voice trailed off as Samuel raised a finger, and cocked his head back towards a group of soldiers standing near the truck.
"Morrisey, Denning!"
Two of the soldiers stepped forward, one with pale blue eyes and a thick black beard, one much older, whose greying buzz cut was just visible under his crammed down cap.
"Morrisey, take Eric down, check him for the mark."
The bearded man nodded, caught Caleb's eye, and gestured down the stairs with the muzzle of his rifle. "Move it."
Caleb stared at the muzzle, his eyes wide, his head thick, and turned to go, but Joshua held his arm tight.
"Dad, I said he's clean, he's-"
"Denning," Samuel continued, giving his son a warning glare, "Go get Doc Adams, let him know we've got wounded, one badly."
"Yes sir."
"Doc's dead," Joshua blurted out.
Everyone froze for a moment, and all eyes turned to Joshua.
Caleb's mouth fell open. "What?"
Doc's dead?
"Repeat that," Samuel said in a low voice.
Joshua opened his mouth to answer, and at that moment, Foley walked up to the group with another man in tow. He gave Samuel a sharp salute, then nodded to Joshua. "Mr. Burnett as ordered. I've told him to take extra care, sir."
Caleb stared at the portly red man behind Foley for a moment before it clicked. Mr. Burnett. The town undertaker.
It is true... Doc... His heart squeezed in his chest, as tears crept up on him suddenly.
"JOSHUA!" Samuel's voice boomed as he turned back from Foley, his eyes wide with anger and disbelief.
Caleb jumped in his brother's grip, his heart thundering in his chest. But Joshua stood up straight, and faced his dad down.
"Doc Adams is dead," he answered, his voice steady. "He died about an hour ago. Broken neck."
"HOW?!" Samuel roared, thrusting his face into his son's.
Joshua didn't flinch. "He fell sir, tripped over a chair, hit some shelves on the way down."
"And you saw this?!" Their father spluttered.
Joshua nodded. "Came into the room sir, just as he tripped."
"What room?!"
"Quarantine," Joshua answered, and gestured at Caleb, "Doc was treating... Eric."
Samuel's eyes flicked back to Caleb, and Caleb felt himself shrink to a tiny speck of nothing under that gaze.
God above... whatever it is, I'm know I'm guilty of it, I'm sorry, I promise I'll never do it again, I'll-
Another of Samuel's soldiers stepped forward, leaning into the commander.
"Sir, we need to get these men treated asap, Saul's lost a lot of bl-"
"Doc is dead, Stevens," Samuel shot back, his eyes turning away from Caleb. "You wanna tell me how we're supposed to do that?!"
"That kid's a medic."
Silence descended as everyone turned to Foley, who'd spoken up from the back of the group.
Caleb's heart jumped. Foley was pointing at him.
"What?" he whispered, but his voice was overwhelmed by his dad's angry bark of the same.
Joshua strangled Caleb's arm once again, turning to stare at him with eyes wide in warning. Samuel hadn't seen though, he'd turned to Foley.
"I heard him say it," Foley continued, still gesturing at Caleb. "He offered to help doc, but doc was already dead. He said 'I'm a medic'."
Slowly, Samuel turned back to Caleb, and something in his eyes had changed. They were less hard, more thoughtful.
"This true?" he asked.
Joshua's hand dug into Caleb's arm again and he spoke up. "Yes sir, it's true."
Samuel put up a silencing hand again, and moved closer to face Caleb. The nearness of his father made his hair stand on end.
"Is it true, Eric?"
Caleb found himself nodding, and he tried to speak, but his throat had gone bone dry. So he just kept nodding, until Joshua clamped down on his arm again and he stopped.
"You in a fit state to work on my men?" Samuel asked, his eyes tracking over Caleb's face, before he pointed to the IV line going from the bag Caleb found himself suddenly holding, to the needle in Caleb's arm.
Surprised, Caleb stared down at himself, not understanding what he was doing holding a bag of clear liquid. He almost dropped it, but at that moment Joshua pulled him around and nodded at his father.
"He is sir, I'll make sure of it."
Samuel's finger flicked between them both. "The blood on your faces, where-"
"DEAD! DEAD OUTSIDE!"
The entire group turned as one towards the sound, and across the road Caleb saw a woman running from the wall holding a little boy in her arms.
Caleb's heart stuttered. Dead?!
Samuel waved at two of the soldiers nearby. "Go." The men immediately turned to run across the road to the wall, one of them stopping to talk to the woman.
There was sudden crack of a gunshot, as the soldier who'd reached the wall took aim and fired. Samuel immediately pointed to his remaining men.
"Morrisey, Denning - help move the wounded," he ordered, and he grabbed Joshua by the arm. "We'll talk later boy. You get Eric working on my men."
Then Samuel gathered the other soldiers and quickly started towards the north gate.
Caleb didn't get much time to reflect on what had just happened, as Joshua pulled him forcefully down the stairs. As he staggered after his brother, his legs got tangled and he tripped. Joshua caught him roughly.
"Watch it," Joshua snapped, glancing over him at the group retreating from the door.
"Sorry," Caleb mumbled, and his head swam as he pulled himself back up. "There's dead here, Josh?" A dull panic rose at the thought, but he tried to focus on each step as Joshua dragged him down and around the corner into the hospital wing.
"They'll handle it," Joshua said, and let out a heavy breath as he pulled Caleb towards the quarantine room. "Holy God above... I thought we were done."
Caleb stopped then, planting his feet, and brought his brother up short as his mind pulled away from the dead and hung on a terrible truth. "Joshua.. Doc's dead?"
"Yeah," Joshua answered, pulling him forward again. "No time to explain, we gotta get you set up."
"But... Doc..." The tears threatened again, and Caleb swallowed hard, feeling himself falling into a heavy grief. The doc had always been his truest friend here... his guardian... how could he be gone?
Joshua grabbed him by his arms and stared him down. "Caleb. We don't have time to grieve right now. You have to help those men. Push it aside, focus."
Caleb shook his head and the room went wonky for a moment, so he closed his eyes, bringing his hand to his forehead. "But Joshua... I don't-"
"Foley was right, the kid said he was a medic," Joshua said, squeezing Caleb's arms hard till he looked up. "Wasn't lying either, I saw him work. He put that IV in, drugged as he was. You've got to do this, you have to figure it out."
Caleb's heart started to pound again, and he shook his head furiously. "I don't know how to heal folks Josh, you know that..."
Joshua gave an impatient growl, and dragged him into the quarantine room, to the shelves, and Caleb stared down at the dark red puddle on the floor.
"Is that... blood?"
Joshua shook him, and he finally looked up, his face scrunched in despair. His brother held a bottle from the shelf in his face.
"Try to think, Caleb, what's this do?"
Caleb stared at the bottle, hard, his eyes not quite focusing on the writing. "I don't know?" He backed away from the wall of shelves, away from the supplies... the blood. He couldn't stand the sight of blood, how could he possibly...?
"Josh, don't make me do this..."
"It's not me, Caleb!" Joshua snapped at him. "Dad'll kill you if you don't do this! He'll kill you! Do you understand!?"
"No," Caleb moaned, and raised his hands to his temples, "I can't... I don't KNOW!"
Joshua stared at him then, saying nothing more, his face closed and unreadable.
"I'm sorry Josh... I'm no doctor," Caleb cried, his emotions overwhelming him again, amplified by the drugs, flooding his eyes with tears.
Joshua nodded slowly. "Okay." Then he sighed, nodding over Caleb to the far wall of the room. "Okay..."
Caleb struggled to get himself under control, as he felt his brother slowly guide him across the room. He'd screwed everything up. Everything was wrong. Doc was dead. His father wanted him dead. God had given him a dead man's face...
"Rowan."
Joshua's voice sounded resigned, and Caleb wondered if someone had stepped into the room, before a fragment of memory came to him, of looking in a little mirror and his brother telling him that Rowan... was...
Caleb looked up, straight into the eyes of the demon, reflected in the mirror. The demon his brother called...
"Rowan," Joshua said again, staring at him through the mirror. "I need to talk to you. Right now."
Shaking his head, Caleb blinked rapidly and stared into the mirror, his eyes growing wide as the demon looked back. Why was his brother... what...
Twisting around with a rising fear, he tried to confront Joshua, "What are you-"
But Joshua pushed him around, to face the mirror again. "Your name is Rowan, remember?!"
Caleb stared at his brother in the mirror, his eyes swimming in tears. "Josh, why?"
His brother's face was hard and hurt. "I'm sorry... but Rowan's the medic... look at yourself Rowan, come on!"
Caleb shook his head, but the motion felt strange and wrong. Joshua was betraying him... he was...
He was...
He looked.
Blue eyes stared back at him, there was blood smeared around his mouth... new blood coming now, and his head... was...
"Owww," he whispered, squeezing his eyes closed, surprised by the cool trail of tears falling down his cheek as the headache pulsed hard against his temple.
"Rowan?"
Rowan looked up, his mouth falling open as he realized who was talking behind him, and he twisted sharply, pulling himself out of Joshua's grip. But the motion was sloppy, and he staggered with it, hitting the wall before falling to the floor. The IV bag fell from him and slid across the concrete.
Joshua was on him quickly, and Rowan lashed out, throwing a messy punch at the man that merely glanced against the soldier's shoulder.
"Rowan!" Joshua yelled, seizing his arms. "Stop it! Please listen!"
"Get the fuck off me!" Rowan yelled back, struggling to pull his arms back.
"You're in danger," Joshua said quickly, holding him firmly. "Not from me! My dad's going to kill you if you don't treat his men."
Rowan stopped fighting for a moment, and blinked up at Joshua, his drugged mind trying to process what he'd just heard. He couldn't make any sense out of it, and shook his head.
"No, listen!" Joshua barked at him. "We've got wounded! You need to help them, or my dad is going to kill you. He'll kill Caleb!" Joshua's expression grew desperate. "Please."
"Caleb's not real!" Rowan growled, finally managing to pull his arms free. Confused, he looked about himself. What the hell was he doing back in this room? He'd broken free, hadn't he? What happened?! Grunting against his throbbing head, he struggled to remember.
"He's real enough," Joshua sighed, pulling Rowan back from his muddled thoughts. "My dad's the leader here Rowan, if you can't prove you're a medic, he's going to check you for the mark, he'll find it, and he'll kill you. You have to do this!"
Rowan tried to get up and failed. He swatted away Joshua's offered hand. "No! Not doing anything for you!"
He had to get out... had to find a way to get back to Julie. She was out there, hurt, alone...
"Jesus," he mumbled, his thoughts spilling from his mouth as he struggled to get up. "I have to find her!"
Joshua looked at him blankly. "Who?"
"Julie," Rowan moaned, shaking his head to try and clear it.
"Help us," Joshua said suddenly, his eyes bright, "and I'll let you see her!"
Rowan's eyes snapped to Joshua's. "You have her?! Where?! Have you hurt her?!" Eyes blazing with anger and fear, he found new strength to push himself up, and quickly grabbed Joshua around the throat, forcing the man back and into the wall. "Where is she?!"
Joshua just smirked, and calmly pried Rowan's hand away.
"Help us," he said quietly, "and you'll see her. If you don't, you'll both die."
Rowan swung his fist up and punched the man.
It wasn't as strong as he'd meant it to be, just a glancing hit on the jaw. Something was wrong, the counter drug was wearing off...
Rowan turned and looked for the bag, and saw it on the floor. It was leaking... and the needle was pulling free of his arm.
As he frantically reinserted the needle, and lurched over to the bag, Joshua just watched.
"I saved your life you know," Joshua said. "You owe me."
Rowan glared back at him, as he walked unsteadily to the stand with the bag. "Only after.. your doctor tried to kill me."
"Yeah, and then you killed him for it," Joshua spat back. "You took our only doctor from us. These men will die because of what you did."
Rowan hung the bag back up on the IV stand, and slowly his gaze fell.
"You owe us this."
Rowan did not look up.
Joshua had him.
"Get your shoes on, get your head together," Joshua ordered, pulling Rowan's gear out from under the bed. "I'll stay by your side, keep you steady, you tell me what to do."
Rowan pressed his forehead against the cold metal of the stand, and took a deep breath. Then he slowly nodded.
"Good," Joshua said, and released a heavy breath of his own. "Hurry up."
Walking back to the bed, Rowan fumbled to get his shoes on, then stood. The room swam, and he started to wonder if it wasn't just the drugs working against him.
"Need to eat," he mumbled. "Need water."
"We don't have time," Joshua said, his voice exasperated. "They're waiting for us, come on!"
Rowan fixed Joshua with a cold stare. "Get me something or I'll pass out."
The soldier held his stare, his eyes dark, then he sighed and walked to the door.
"You get started and I'll bring you something as quick as I can." He went to open the door, but hesitated and turned back as Rowan walked over, leaning on the metal stand. "And you answer to Eric now, okay?"
Rowan frowned. "Who the hell's Eric?"
Joshua shook his head, "No, no, you're Eric, that's your name here now. I had to come up with something quick, so now you're Eric."
"But..." Rowan murmured, rubbing his eyes as he tried to fight off the effects of the sedative, "Why'd you pick Eric... why not Rowan? Nobody knows me here."
Joshua snorted. "Can't have folks calling you Rowan when you're Caleb, it'll confuse him, and might bring you back."
Rowan stared at Joshua, his mouth falling open as a horrible realization hit him. "You... you can't keep me here as Caleb, Joshua... I'm not staying here... I'm not going to be your dead brother for you!"
Crossing his arms, Joshua leaned back against the door.
"No?" he said, his voice sharp. "You killed Caleb. You killed Doc. Seems only right you take their places here."
Rowan backed away from the door, a growing horror and fear rising through the haze of the barbiturate. "No... it's not right, Joshua - I'm not your fucking slave... or your fucking brother! He's not real!"
Joshua watched him for a moment, his eyes angry. Then with a heavy sigh his shoulders slumped.
"You're right..." he said quietly, nodding as his eyes fell from Rowan's. "You're right."
Rowan studied him warily. "I'll help your men..." he said cautiously, "I owe that much, but I can't stay, Joshua. You... you have to let Caleb go."
Joshua nodded again, slowly, releasing another big sigh, then he met Rowan's gaze.
"Okay. You help our soldiers, you give me one more talk with my brother," he held his hand up quickly, "No matter if it's not real! I want a chance to say goodbye. Then you can go."
"Both of us," Rowan said.
Joshua frowned in confusion. "What?"
"Julie too, you'll let her go. You promise."
Joshua stared at him a moment longer, then furiously nodded his head. "Yeah, yeah. Both of you."
Rowan's eyes narrowed. "Promise, Joshua. One talk with fake Caleb, then we go."
"Don't you use that word," Joshua growled, his face twisting bitterly. "You be respectful."
Rowan's gaze dropped for a moment. "Sorry." Then he looked up at Joshua again. "A chance to say goodbye, then you let us go. Promise."
"Sure."
The door was wrenched open, and Morrissey pushed his bearded head in. "Our guys are waiting for you kid, what's the hold up?" His gaze fell to the door frame. "What in Hades happened to the door?"
"Nevermind that," Joshua snapped. "Morrissey, I need to help Eric with his work. Go to the mess hall and grab a water jug and some jerky would ya?"
Morrissey glared at him. "I'm not your damn waiter! If you're hungry, you get-"
"It's for him," Joshua growled, hooking his thumb at Rowan. "He hasn't eaten for a day, so get him something and stop complaining."
"Yes... sir," Morrissey muttered, fixing Joshua with an angry look before heading back down the hall.
Joshua turned to Rowan. "Ready, 'Eric'?"
Rowan didn't answer, but pushed past him into the hallway, and tried to focus on what he needed to do. The men were set up in bunks against the walls. Two of the men were conscious, though pale with pain. Their eyes watched him as he quickly assessed their injuries, his mind sharpening with the need to ease their suffering, and he sent Joshua for painkillers and IV supplies, before moving to the third.
It wasn't a pretty sight. The man had taken a bullet wound to the abdomen, and there was extensive percussive trauma. The guy was out, deep in shock and unresponsive. Rowan knew he needed surgery immediately, but wasn't quite sure he'd be able to perform it.
Didn't matter, it had to be done.
Then he found out they didn't have an OR.
That didn't matter either. The stolen memories he was drawing on came from a medic used to improvising in combat situations, and Rowan set to work immediately, setting up as sterile an environment as possible, an IV with a sedative to keep the man under, and enlisting Joshua for stitching up what he ended up cutting out.
At the end, as his body grew more and more weary, while his mind grew sharper, he was impressed by how cool and steady Joshua stayed, faced with a man opened up before him. And then it just ended up worrying him, as they closed the wound together. What had Joshua seen... what had he done, to make him so used to seeing and doing something like this?
By the time he'd dressed the other men's wounds, distributed pain relief, and given the third man the best chance for survival he could, his mind was clearer than it had been all day, but he was stumbling with exhaustion. Morrissey had indeed brought in some jerky and water, but it'd been meager and his body craved more.
Samuel stayed out of his way for the most part, which was good, because whenever Rowan saw the man, he felt the stirrings of intense emotions that clearly didn't belong to him, and knew Caleb wasn't far off.
Another meeting was inevitable however, Rowan knew that, and shortly after he'd started bandaging some of the minor wounds of other soldiers, Samuel came directly to him. He was glad he had somewhere else to stare than at the man's weathered face.
"Saul's condition?" Samuel asked, and Rowan had to think for a minute before he realized the man was talking about the soldier with the stomach wound.
"Bad," Rowan answered bluntly, still careful to keep his head down, his eyes focused on the swabbing he was doing to the soldier's arm. "Had to remove a lot of damaged tissue, infection's highly likely, and he's in severe shock. I'm not sure he's going to pull through."
Samuel seemed to take it in stride, then spoke in a low voice. "God will see him through. Saul's been a faithful follower, doing His good work. It's God's will he live."
Rowan didn't know what to say to that, and tried to tamp down the urge to shrug, sure it would be one of the worse things he could do that that time. He focused instead on applying butterfly strips to the soldier's wound.
"How old are you, boy?"
The use of the word 'boy' made Rowan bristle. He was getting pretty fucking sick of people calling him that here, and he had to stop himself from looking up at the man and snapping back. Instead he took a deep breath and answered honestly.
"Twenty one."
He'd died when he was twenty. His body hadn't aged during the eight years he'd been a corpse, so he'd been twenty still when he returned to life, and he'd just celebrated his first birthday since coming back. It was bizarre.
"Twenty one?!" Samuel snorted, and Rowan wondered if perhaps he should have padded the years out a little, added in some of the dead ones to balance things out. After all, it wouldn't be lying, he'd been walking the earth for twenty nine years now.
But nobody would believe he was almost thirty.
Wasn't like he was mentally that age either. While he'd been much better at thinking than the average corpse, marking the passage of time wasn't exactly his specialty as one of the undead.
"Twenty ONE!?" Samuel repeated, clearly having problems with his age.
Rowan felt himself react to the strength of emotion coming from the commander, as his pulse trembled at his throat, and a light sweat broke out on his forehead. It was all coming from Caleb. Something about the relationship these two had, but Rowan had no intention of diving into Caleb's memories to find out. Instead he added an extra bandage to the wound that it didn't need, and pondered how else he could keep his head down.
"Where'd you learn this stuff then?" the commander finally growled.
Rowan didn't miss a beat. "UMASS, Wishard, Army."
Jack's memories came easy to him, and there was no threat of losing himself in them anymore either. He'd already done that a few times, but he'd managed to integrate 'Jack' back into himself. Managed to find himself in the mess. Now he could dance in and out of the man's experiences whenever he needed.
As soon as the words left his mouth though, he winced. What he'd just said was ridiculous, considering his age. He felt the disbelief rolling off of Samuel, and quickly turned away, giving the soldier the all clear. Gathering up the dishes of empty packaging and used syringes, he went to discard them, but Samuel stepped in his way, blocking his path.
Rowan kept his gaze down, and fought to stave off the panic he could feel just under the surface. If he didn't get out of this situation soon, he'd slip into Caleb again, and that would be very, very bad. Something told him Samuel wouldn't be as accepting as Joshua had been...
"Eric," Samuel said, in a strangely casual tone, "You expect me to believe you're some kind of child genius?"
The hairs on Rowan's neck started to soar again, and the skin on his arms prickled in goosebumps. He did not like this man. There was something very uncomfortable going on here. Not just because this man led some kind of military cult. Sure, Samuel was the authority figure in this place, but Rowan had faced up against Colonel Grigio, and while that man had certainly inspired fear in him, the guy had never made his skin crawl.
Without meaning to, he took a step back, and bumped straight into someone he hadn't realized was standing there. When he tried to turn around, Samuel grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back.
"Joshua tells me you're from a settlement on the other side of the mountains. That you crashed that plane up on our hill. That true?"
Rowan swallowed hard, and nodded. He wasn't sure what story Joshua had told, but sticking to it seemed to be the wisest thing to do right now.
"You spying on us boy?"
Frowning, Rowan looked up, focusing on the man's thin mouth, framed by bitter lines, and shook his head. "No."
"Look me in the eye Eric, so I know you're tellin' the truth."
Heart pounding in his chest, Rowan froze, battling the rising fear of Caleb.
Samuel squeezed his arm tight, and pulled him in close, and the man's breath washed over him in a caustic wave, sour with alcohol.
Rowan looked up, and opened his mouth to speak, to clear himself, but his world started to crumble around him as he met those dark, deep eyes.
"I..." he whispered, and tried desperately hard to hold on to who he was, as Caleb's fear threatened to drown him.
"Father!"
The man before him turned away, towards Joshua, who'd called from the locker room, and Rowan sagged, grabbing at his temple, trying to stave off the threatening headache.
The crushing grip on his arm released with a jarring wrench, and Rowan felt himself fall. With a clatter of metal dishes, he landed on the concrete floor, catching himself with an outstretched hand.
"What, Joshua?!" snapped Samuel impatiently above him, and there was a short pause before he spoke again. "Morrissey, get him up."
Hands hooked under Rowan's shoulders as he sat trying to pull himself back together, and he was suddenly hoisted upward, back onto his feet. The motion made the world lurch dramatically, and a new sweat broke out on his forehead as he felt his legs buckle beneath him.
"I'm..." he mumbled, before exhaustion, the lack of food, and the jarring mental swings he'd had all day took their toll and the world blinked out completely.