CHAPTER 40 — The Doctor
Elion — POV
Inside the barricaded area, the transformation was startling.
Makeshift lights lined the hall, while cots were arranged neatly to the side of the walls.
People moved—cooking, cleaning, organizing. An armed man cleaned a rifle. A teenage girl sorted medical supplies and two older women folded blankets.
At least forty people were in this single wing alone.
As we stepped in, dozens of eyes turned toward us.
In them I saw: fear, suspicion, curiosity, hope.
All of them focused on me.
The gunwoman stepped ahead of us.
"I brought them," she announced.
A man emerged from a side room.
He was tall and thin. An older gentleman either early to mid 50's. His graying hair seemed dirty and he was wearing a torn doctor's coat with patches of blood on the sleeves.
He looked tired. But not weak.
He assessed us with a trained gaze— clinical, sharp. he scanned over each of the girls before resting his eyes on me.
"You broke into our pharmacy," he said simply.
I nodded. "Yes."
"You stole medication."
"We only took what we needed. I didn't know that you people were here." I went with the forgiveness path. But looking around I knew that if I chose to fight there would be collateral damage... I wasn't sure how I felt about that yet so instead I focused on finding a path to trade and not fight.
His eyes narrowed, he looked me up and down and growled, "You pointed weapons at my people."
I looked at the gunwoman, and felt a smirk rise to my lips as I responded, "She pointed hers first."
He blinked once. Then exhaled through his nose. He could tell I wasn't looking for a fight, and he was right to be wary of us.
"And now?" he asked cautiously.
"Now," I said, "I'm offering a trade." I held out my hands as if I was present an offer.
The doctor folded his arms.
"What kind of trade?"
I reached into my Inventory and pulled out a large, sealed box—the emergency ration meals.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
People leaned closer. I saw a child whispered something to her mother and a man's eyes widened at the sight. Not everyone understood what they'd seen— the Inventory skill, the impossible item storage— but some did, judging by their wary looks.
The doctor seemed more surprised at the skill of storage rather than that I had skills.
I set the box at his feet.
Meso crossed her arms proudly, chin raised like this entire negotiation was her personal success. I wondered if she had ever been around this many normal people before. She looked strangely… happy. A little manic, but happy.
I just hoped nobody pissed her off before I could react.
"There are thirty meals," I said. "They are a high-calorie and long shelf-life type meals. Just add hot water and bam— food for a week if you ration well."
The doctor looked between me, the box, and the gunwoman.
He gestured. And a young man hurried forward, opened the box, and the sight of sealed rations was exposed.
"These are real," he breathed.
A ripple of relieved murmurs traveled through the corridor.
The doctor turned back to me.
"And in return?"
"We keep the medication we've taken so far."
Meso whispered to Alexiy, "Elion looks so badass when he's taking charge. It's extremely sexy. I want him to take charge when were in be—"
"MESO—!" Alexiy hissed. Her face red as she tried to cover Meso's mouth.
But she didn't deny it. I ignored them as finally, the doctor nodded once.
"Show me all of the meds," he said. "We'll tally them on our inventory tablet."
"Fine," I said. "That's fair enough."
He motioned toward a nearby room.
"Follow me. We'll speak privately."
We moved deeper into the wing.
Children peeked from behind curtains. A teenage guy clutched a blanket. Two men leaned on makeshift crutches.
This place wasn't a camp.
It was a sinking ship patched together with hope and duct tape.
My jaw tightened.
These were people trying to survive.
They weren't raiders or opportunists. No these were just people. People who got caught up in the end of the world and didn't know how to move on.
We entered a surprisingly clean conference room—whiteboards on the walls, supply crates stacked neatly, tables pushed together.
Harland (I heard the doctor's name by now) closed the door.
"Lay them out," he said.
One by one, I pulled items from my Inventory:
Saline bags. Antibiotics. Epinephrine injectors. Steroids. Syringes. IV tubing. Painkillers. Antiseptics. Suture kits.
The pile grew. But wisely I didn't show anything we took from the lab rooms. After all the deal was food for meds from the pharmacy. So I only showed him the meds we took.
Harland's expression shifted from cautious… to stunned… to something heavy and worn.
"You could treat an entire hospital wing with this," he whispered.
I shrugged lightly. "That was the point."
He looked at me sharply.
"You planed to come here... it seems almost like you were prepared for something like this."
"I came prepared to stop being weak," I corrected.
His lips twitched.
"Fair enough."
As he moved closer, he paused abruptly—watching me pull another bin of meds from thin air.
"That," he said slowly, "is a skill?"
I met his eyes. "Yes."
He raised a brow. "I thought it could've been a bag of holding. Or alien tech. Or a portable dimensional rift. Who knows at this point right? So I felt like I had to ask"
As he looked at the shocked faceless of my companions he spoke again "I played D&D when I was younger."
Behind me, Meso lit up with a grin so bright she looked like she'd found a new toy.
"Oh," she whispered, "I like him."
I ignored her.
"Well," I said, "unless you're willing to tell me all of your group's skills, I'd rather drop the topic."
He smirked slightly, but stayed silent. Smart man. Not easily baited.
He set a tablet on the table, and started tallying meds with methodical precision.
As he worked, he spoke:
"We've been using an old ham radio," he said casually, too casually. "Disaster protocol equipment. Prepared and only used during major events... like this."
My eyes narrowed.
"And?"
"And from scanning emergency frequencies… it seems the government hasn't completely fallen."
Alexiy froze and Meso seemed deep in thought but listening to every word. While Rea straightened up and clenched her fist, and Delilah looked startled.
I didn't react.
Harland noticed.
He was watching me closely.
"There are still functioning military pockets," he continued. "One about an hour south in the city of Linein. They say it's cleared. The radio message says the city is "Zombie-free and accepting refugees.""
"A miracle," Delilah murmured.
"Or a lie," Rea countered. Looking more skeptical. It had only been 5 days since the start of the Apocalypse. Even if they managed to clear a city would it be livable?
Harland leaned on the table, folding his arms.
"The one broadcasting claims to be an Army General. Says they have enough firepower to keep the undead out. Claims they're rebuilding the whole city and want to call all able body survivors there."
"I see," I said.
Just two simple words.
Inside, my thoughts spiraled differently.
If the military is clearing and rebuilding whole cities… They needed a lot of labor... and with how egotistical those kind of men who have power think... I could only see this a call for free slave labor.
On the other hand If there are the survivors with firepower, or organizations outside the government, they would call them rebels and try to exterminate them before they risked losing their power...
They were gaining levels. Strength. Skills. For every zombie they killed for each person they esaalved they were getting strong and establishing their foothold on this new world.
And eventually?
They will want control.
Of people. Of resources. Of zones of safety. Of me.
No.
I would never kneel under a military chain of command. I would not be another asset for some general to order around. A pawn in a game. A tool in someone else's hand...
No. I want to be the storm they fear, not the soldier they use.
Harland studied me closely—too closely.
"You aren't from one of the government centers," he mused. It seemed he saw the subtle defiance in my eyes at the idea of enslavement and joining a government base.
"No," I said simply.
"I'm curious," he said softly. "Your group doesn't behave like civilians. You move like you've fought before. You have… coordination? Determination? There's a fire in your eyes, that's for sure."
"That's not your concern," Rea said sharply, before I would respond.
Harland lifted his hands. "I'm only assessing your threat level."
Meso stepped closer to him, smiling like a cat. "Assess all you like, doctor~. Just remember—Elion hasn't killed anyone today. That was a choice."
Harland swallowed.
"Right," he murmured. "Understood."
I tried hard not to roll my eyes. Why is it that she's making me sound like I'm the psychotic one?
He finished tallying the medication.
"It's… a lot," he said weakly. "A month's worth of supplies for us. Maybe more."
"And you're getting a week of food," I reminded him.
He nodded.
"That's fair," he said.
Then—
A scream echoed from the hallway.
All of us froze.
Followed by—
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Something slammed into metal.
A door rattled violently.
Shouts erupted.
"THEY'RE COMING THROUGH THE WEST BARRICADE!"
"They found another way in!"
"GET THE GUARDS!"
Harland paled.
"Not now," he muttered. "Not today—"
A survivor burst into the conference room, gasping.
"Doctor! It's the raiders! They're back and they are breaking the west stairwell! We can't hold them! Dan already died, and Laura was holding them back as I ran here."
Harland turned to me, his eyes full of fear.... And something else.
Desperation.
"Please," he said. It was different from how we were peaking before. This wasn't a command or a negotiation. Hell this wasn't even a request... no this was a plea. "Help us."
The room held its breath.
My group looked at me, as I turned to look at them. I knew they would follow whatever decision I made.
Rea's hand hovered near her gun, ready to take action. Delilah already holding her blade, looking prepared for the worst. Alexiy's fingers trembled but when her bright, pink eyes met mine I saw the complete trust she had in me. And Meso's eyes gleamed with feral excitement, I wasn't hard to see that she wanted to fight humans.
The doctor stared at me, voice breaking:
"Help us… and the trade is yours. Everything is yours."
The hall shook again.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
My Danger Sense hadn't spiked, but I wasn't fully trusting of my skills.
I knew that there was something violent coming. Something dangerous.... Something called 'humans'.
I stepped forward slowly.