Nadine Rivers

Would Nadine’s corpse haunt his memory the way that Gloria’s did?

He shifted his weight where he stood, eyes wide. Wetting his lips again, he pulled at his shirt, adjusting it slightly.

“I want to know if you’ve seen someone. A particular someone. He’s…important to me,” Elias explained, bloody fingers sliding through his hair. Momentarily, he chewed on his lip. “He’s a…ex-marine, about thirty two. Name’s Connor, about…yay-tall, he’s not…not usually very friendly, but…”

Nadine's eyebrows inched further up her forehead as the boy tugged at his own shirt, seeing his internal battle unfold before her. "Huh..." Her eyebrows drew together and her nose wrinkle. "Can't say I have," she finally said with a shrug and a heavy sigh. "Tell ya what, though, I'll keep an eye out... If I run into uh... An ex-marine that goes by the name of 'Connor',,, I'll be sure to mention you."

"Did you—" he stopped himself. Did you really just say that? he wanted to ask. He wanted to ask her if she had a filter or any nerve at all. Most of the world was either dead or undead, but it seemed as though some folk still held on to the same old mindsets. With a twitch of his eye, Jean wondered if she had that mentality where all black people were indistinguishable or if she simply saw the coincidence of a black man and German shepherd surviving on their own. Whatever it was, he knew better than to try and educate ignorant folk. He’d have more success discussing systemic racism with a walker. At least a walker didn’t resort to derailing. Walkers were logically consistent—fresh meat, fresh meat, always fresh meat. Despite his better judgment, he knew helping her was the right thing to do. He bit his tongue and threw his shoulders back, letting the micro-aggression pass. 

"It’s Jean. Douglas. Jean Douglas," he said after the awkward pause. He pointed to Andreia. "That’s Andy. You think running off is the best idea with a wound like that?" 

She was at a loss for words and an explanation. 

“Just tryin’ to lighten the mood a little, is all.” Nadine rolled her shoulders anxiously, knowing that she fucked up somewhere in all of this. Maybe this wasn’t the type of guy who knew how to take a joke or maybe he was one that took them too seriously. Or maybe she just desperately needed to get that filter between her head and mouth checked. “That wasn’t suppose to be offensive,” she sighed. “But I’m sorry I ever said anything at all.” Nadine’s foot really liked to live in her mouth, that much she knew.

“But I’m doing what I do best, and that’s taking off. Besides, we already got off on the wrong foot and I don’t plan on over staying my welcome.” Nadine took yet another step back and then to side to lean against one of the more sturdier shelf. She should probably take some of that medicine soon. “Name’s Nadine,” she said with a grunt and a heavy heave of her breath as she pushed herself off of the shelf and continued to make her way towards the door. “But thanks again,” she said while throwing a glance over her shoulder. “Jean…Andy…” Nadine gave a brief nod of her head towards the pair. “I’ll catch you guys later…maybe… I really do owe you one.”

"Let me check what might be best," Jean said. He took a few steps closer to Nadine, careful to leave a comfortable distance as not to appear threatening or invasive. Andreia followed close behind, walking at his side and stopping when he stopped. Jean paged through the interactions book, looking for anything that might hint at what kinds of antibiotics would be best for penetrating trauma. Ampicillin 500 milligrams, three times a day—that was it. 

"Ampicillin, might be your best bet," he said. "There wasn’t any in the pharmacy, but…" 

Digging through his duffel bag, he found his antibiotics buried underneath his needles and testosterone. He kept an eye on Nadine through his peripheral vision, making sure she didn’t seem to be going for her weapons again—not that Andreia would have allowed it to go unnoticed. Looking the bottles over, he found a bottle of Ampicillin. Sure enough, there were 500 milligram pills inside. He took a sharpie out and wrote 3 times a day on the bottle. He had more than enough to treat any future wounds for himself. Though it was a lot to give away considering how rare antibiotics were getting. People unfamiliar with medications were taking whole shelves and using them to barter for food. Jean suspected whoever raided this pharmacy knew exactly what to take. 

"Here," he said, extending the bottle to her and giving a slight smile. 

But just like everything else, Nadine shook it off- that mere glimmer of happiness had faded and will remain a distant memory to her. 

"Thanks." Nadine took the bottle out the man's hands and flashed yet another lousy, crooked grin before stuffing the medicine into one of the outer pockets of her duffle bag. 

He hadn’t even covered it up, and she was off, thinking she was going to leave like that. It wasn’t his problem. If she wanted to die of an infection, she wasn’t his responsibility.

Still, Elias stood, brow furrowing slowly. It was odd, this flitting back and forth between people. What was the worst that could happen if she left? She would go off on her own life, living and dying as she pleased, and, hell, he had this habit of taking lives – what did hers matter?

She looked like Gloria.

Didn’t act quite like her but still, in the back of his mind, Elias knew that was a face so close to the one that haunted his nightmares, the embodiment of all his regrets in life, and he couldn’t just let her leave like that.

He found himself speaking before he could even second guess it.

“Wait,” he barked with a bit of urgency, then relaxed. “I…I have a question. Before you leave.”

She watched as Elias relaxed and waited patiently for him to continue. What else could he possibly want from her? But again, the same thought that had crossed Nadine's mind earlier had settled in the back of her head yet again. This boy practically saved her life... The least she could do is hear him out... She owed him that much. 

"But alright... Shoot." 

The fact that the stranger put her weapons away gave Jean a sense of relief. The sudden lack of aggression toward him made him think that perhaps she was at the pharmacy for something chronic, rather than a junkie looking for a fix or another victim of the new killer strain of Typhoid that was spreading all over the South. Whatever it was that brought her there, it didn’t warrant trying to take from a stranger by force. 

Andreia circled behind the woman, poised, and Jean motioned for her to stay where she was and not approach. The dog whined, alerting the stranger to her presence. 

"What are you looking for? The folks who worked here had a physical inventory of everything that is, or was, stocked here," Jean said, getting right to the point. He pointed to a hand-written tome on the nearby shelf and then flashed the drug interaction book he was carrying. She seemed like she wasn’t the type to expect or want pleasantries. 

There was hardly anything left to salvage. A few boxes of band-aids here and there and a couple rolls of gauge. Well, it was better than nothing. Beggars didn't exactly have the luxury of being choosers, especially at a time like this. Nadine took what she thought was best and stuffed it into one of the side pockets of her duffle bag then moved on to another section of the pharmacy.

After setting her bag down on top of the counter that separated the rest of the store from the restricted area that held patient prescriptions, Nadine hopped on over and began to scan the different labels that made absolutely no sense to her. 

Abraxane? Droperidol? Terbinafine Hydrochloride? 

What the hell?

Nadine's nose scrunched and her brow furrowed. She didn't have the slightest idea where to even begin. That was until the stranger who was still standing in the doorway piped up.

"Got shot." Nadine flashed the man her arm decorated with bandages. "Need somethin' that'll keep it from getting infected. And something to help with the burn would be nice, too." Why was she telling him this? It wasn't like she was lookin' for his help or anything. And besides, he probably had better things to do than to help a gunshot victim. "But I dunno what I'm suppose to be lookin' for..." Her chin dropped momentarily. It was kinda embarrassing... Not knowing what meds treated what. "So," Nadine sucked in a deep breath while exchanging glances with the man and his dog. "If you know anything about medicine more than I do and you wanna point me in the general area of what I need then... You can be on your way." 

His tweezers found the bullet, pinching down sharply on it and pulling. It came free after a moment, bloodied and misshapen. It clattered to the floor, and he groped for a flashlight, shining it into the wound to look for any other obvious pieces.

Still, at her question, he hesitated.  He hoped it hadn’t, he liked to pretend that he hadn’t heard what he had heard, that his family was still safe, but the truth was the truth. Licking his lips, Elias looked back to what he was doing, speaking softly.

“I think it did. It was in Europe, I know that. I doubt they stopped it any faster than we have.”

Nadine's gaze stayed fixated on Elias' fingers that seemed to be working pure magic on her arm but also observing as his lips as he chose his next words carefully. "Damn." It was the only word Nadine could murmur. She felt like apologizing. But for what? Why should she show sympathy for someone else's home, someone else's family... Especially when no one's ever shown any for hers. "That sounds rough."

Then as soon as she heard the faintest 'clink' echo off of the floorboards, that was her cue to get lost. "You are a life saver. Really," Nadine flashed the kid a grateful grin before standing up and pulling her leather jacket back on. "I dunno how I can ever repay you." She was rushing, and she was well aware of how obvious it must've been. "Tell ya what," Nadine cleared her throat before hoisting her duffle bag up on her shoulder. "If we ever run into each other again and I so happen to have an extra set of car keys, ammo, or any other supplies, I'll hook you up." 

The walkers stumbling around inside couldn’t see him from the panned glass and shelves between them, but he kept a careful eye on them by peering around the corner. He followed the labels along the back wall until he found a row of vitamins. He took an armful of ‘everyday’ vitamins, Vitamin C pills, and liver detoxifers. Andreia didn’t move far, heeling close to his legs as he tip-toed over the mess below.

As Jean thumbed through the long-gone pharmacist’s drug interaction book, he noticed Andreira’s ears start to peak. There was someone else nearby, she could sense something he couldn’t.

"Ānjìng," he whispered, patting her on the head. "Like a mouse."

Looking around the corner, he could see a figure outside drop down behind the display window. He jumped back out of sight and knelt down to slowly zip up his bag of supplies as he mapped out his escape in his mind’s eye. His ride wasn’t far. They could make past the walking dead and make a run for it if they had to.

Without any further hesitation, Nadine drew her trusty hunting knife from the length of her leather boot and charged at a nearby walker head on, jamming the blade into skull of the reannimated corpse then shoving it's motionless vessel into another oncoming walker, retrieving her knife in the process. 

Nadine's next move had to be swift. Her thoughts were zooming through her mind a hundred miles an hour and her adrenaline was in overdrive. Before she so much as even received the chance to suck in a deep breath, Nadine reached behind herself and brought her pistol into view. The sound suppressor secured on the end of the barrel would silence any and all shots fired. 

Aiming in between the colorless eyes of the walker dragging it's feet toward her, Nadine pulled the trigger. Then with a quick 90 degree pivot on her heels, she pulled it once more, burying a junk of metal into the biter's hollow head. 

Her adrenaline rush began to wear off but Nadine's facial expression remained stone cold and unphased. She'd be lying if she hadn't thought about angling the end of the barrel at the man who stood before her. But inadvertent actions such as that were beneath her. She was actually embarrassed to allow such a heinous thought creep into her mind. She would not let herself stoop as low as some of the survivors have in pitting human against human. We're suppose to be fighting the dead, not fearing the living. 

"Just go," she finally breathed while tucking away her gun and sliding her knife back into her boot. "First come, first serve, right?" Nadine regained possession of her duffle bag before her fingers began riffling through the pitiful leftovers on the closest shelf next to her. Her arm throbbed. The gunshot she had received a few days ago still burned, It was as if a million tiny suns were bubbling beneath the surface of her skin. Antibiotics would be great right about now.

He’d given himself stitches, once, that way.

Once she passed the alcohol back, he tipped the bottle against her skin, running it against the wound. His grip was tight on her arm to keep her from flinching away. Then, he poured some of it over the tweezers. Only the focus he managed to keep on the tweezers, on her voice, on the piece of metal in her arm, kept him from slipping into a hallucination.

Still, his grip was like iron on her arm. If she struck out, she would strike out, he would deal with it. The tweezers disappeared under her skin.

“Nadine. Bello. It’s pretty.” Then, “Elias Fiore. I’m from Atlanta, but home is Italy. What about you?”

"But uh," Nadine cleared her throat and took over the possession of the bottle of alcohol once more. "Italy, huh? Think this shit spread to over there, too?" Nadine was well aware that there might have been some invisible boundary line she'd just crossed but the question alone had been asked out of pure curiosity. Maybe what was left over the straggling survivors were all missing out on a some safe haven over seas. The news went off air long ago so who was anyone to know if this fucking flu got to any other countries.