Milo Johnston's Story

Emory groaned as she allowed herself to lean her back against the cold, hard stone wall; her muscles protesting against the cold that she could feel seeping through her jacket. Currently, the young woman was on the roof of St. Thomas' Hospital and she wasn't too pleased about it either. It wasn't the most secure place nor was it comfortable but she was just pleased that she was out of sight enough that she could bear it, for now.

The British young woman's hands moved to her hip holsters or, to be more precise, the guns that rested in the holsters. She removed them and quickly glanced over them for any sort of damage. Since there was none that was visible she nodded her head in acceptance and moved on from the outer appearance. She carefully checked each one to specifically examine the magazine and see how many shots she might have left of the round before moving to the other. Pleased with this she returned on to the holster, the other remaining in her hand just in case one of those monsters happened to come through the door. Although, Emory knew she'd need to leave this place as soon as she could.

With only a few bottles of water (most empty), several rounds for her guns, a small handheld radio transmitter, a charger for the radio and some chewing gum on her.. She was going to be in trouble if she didn't find a way out of this place in a few hours. With her current water supply, she calculated that she'd be lucky to last a whole twenty-four hours but, if she was being serious, she needed water in maybe three; and even that would be pushing it. This was why she was trying so desperately to reach St. Paul's Cathedral.

A man who had called himself Milo Johnston had sent out a transmission saying that himself and another person were the only two there and there was plenty of food and water to last for more people, which he sounded like he really hoped would come. Unfortunately, Emory hadn't had the chance to respond but she also hoped someone would help her to get there. As if crossing the Thames alone would be bad, maneuvering the streets was most likely to be absolutely horrible.. Especially if there were strange mechanical things on Emory's side of the river. She doubted anyone would come but figured it was worth a try.

She pulled the radio from it's place in her bag, growing frustrated at the shakiness in her hands, and turned it on while making sure the volume was low. Pressing the button on the side down, she held it up to her lips and prayed to God this would reach someone.

" Hello?" Emory's eyes widened at the crackling sound of static but continued, not wanting to give up. " Hello! My name is Emory Thorne and I'm currently hiding on the roof of St. Thomas' Hospital by Westminster bridge. I have no food and my water supply is running low, I need help! Please, someone!" The static kept crackling as Emory took a deep breath, feeling scared. " Please, I'm at St. Thomas' and I need help. I don't want to die!"

She released the black button and listened intently to the quiet static for a few minutes before placing the radio on the ground beside her and pulling a bottle of water from the bag. She twisted the lid and took a small sip of the now-lukewarm water. It tasted disgusting warm but it was all she had, other than the small hopes she had tied to the radio at her side.

Milo's heart skipped a beat when he heard the static. "Someone else?" Sliding out from under the weights, he dashed to the radio just in time to hear 'St. Thomas'. "Fuck. I'm going to have a hell of a time getting there." He slid his jacket on, tossed the bandanna over his face and grabbed his gun. Listen to me," He said into the transmitter. "The lady at St. Thomas. If you can hear me, I'm coming for you. I'm no more than ten or fifteen minutes out, so just hold tight and watch for me. If anyone else is getting this, I'll send out another message when I'm back on the same frequency. I've got my hand-held with me, I'll be able to hear you if you call out to me. I promise, I won't leave you out there as long I can help it." With that, the radio cackled, toned down and died out. "Time to roll." He grunted and stepped out of the crumbling church. The sunlight blinding in the afternoon, a slight red tint to it was all he needed to remind himself that this was no nightmare.

Ten minutes later, Milo's old motorcycle screeched to a halt on the bank of the Thames. He had destroyed the bridges long ago, cleared out this neighborhood. It still disturbed him though, something about this place was... "Never mind I don't want to think about it." He muttered. Then it hit him. In his hasty escape from the area last time, he left the boat tethered,"Right over there. Damn it." He tossed his gun and jacket next to the bike, gripped his knife's handle and dove into the frigid water. Two minutes of swimming and he was on the other bank, a few minutes walk from the hospital. Lucky for him the machines were all thermal. As long as he didn't dry off fast he was golden until he got there.

At the foot of the hospital he stopped. No way he was going up the normal way. Too many risks. One of the walls however was torn up, making for a few easy hand holds. "Some days It's easier being the last man alive." He started scaling the wall about half way then stopped. "Hey!" He called out softly. "Can you hear me?"

Emory nearly jumped out of her skin when her radio's constant low crackle changed to something more. A human's voice. Not a machine or parasitic monster, but a real live human being. She spilt half of her water bottle on her boot but paid it no attention as she snatched the radio from the concrete and stared at it, a slow smile spreading over her lips. Someone had heard her and they were coming to help her!

She leaned back against the wall, pulling her legs toward herself to hide in shadow. The coolness kept her body temperature down and kept her from being detected, not by a lot but it was the best Emory could manage on the roof. Closing her eyes, Emory settled in to wait. He'd said he would be around ten to fifteen minutes which made her heart race excitedly. She wouldn't be alone anymore and the thought made her want to dance around, no matter how stupid it seemed. Emory was just so relieved.

Not having anything to tell time with, Emory had no idea as to how much time had passed since making contact with this person who was coming to rescue her. It felt like time was dragging so she assumed only a few minutes had passed but, when she heard a low voice calling, she soon realized she was off by a little bit.

Emory turned toward the wall that was right beside her and slowly stood, blinking her eyes at the brightness of the sunlight as she put her hands on the edge and leaned over a tiny bit to get a glimpse. " Hello?" She called, her voice shaking slightly. She caught sight of a figure down below her, not on the ground but holding tightly to the wall approximately halfway up. Emory stepped over to her bag and placed her radio back in it, not even bothering with the spilled bottle of water, before placing the strap over her shoulder and across her chest as she walked back to the wall. " I'm going to have to climb down," she thought as her eyes scanned for good places to place her hands and feet, " Since the stairs aren't an option.."

" Okay," Emory replied, nodding as she tried to work out how much longer they'd be in the open for. She came up with nothing, drawing a large blank. Accepting Milo's help into the boat she tried to ignore the water as she seated herself, looking at her bandaged hand pointedly before speaking.

" It's just for now at least, but sure." She agreed quietly, " You can if you want." She didn't think it was bad, even though she knew it could become infected. The infection didn't worry her. Not that particular type anyway. Emory stared at the opposite bank for a moment before glancing to the one they had just left, barely catching Milo's words. She tilted her head as though thinking it over when , to be truthful, Em sounded more appealing than lass.

Emory nodded again, " Em sounds great to me!" She was enthusiastic over not being alone anymore, having just the little bit less to worry about as she stared distastefully at the water. She hoped the boat didn't tip because after the 'Incident' when she was a child, she hadn't gone near water much and as a result was far from being a good swimmer. She'd be the one to drown in shallow water, typical.

She shrugged her shoulders as Emory watched him tie the rope in a know, so as to not let the boat drift. " I'm fine with motorcycles," she said easily, not mentioning how much she really hated water as she too his hand. She clutched it tightly as she stood shakily, getting off the boat as fast as she could without risking falling in the freezing water. Emory just wanted as far away as she could from the stuff.

With a small smile directed at Milo, Emory gave a light sigh. She was glad that part was over as her feet met the hard support of the pier below her. " Thank you," she mumured, polite as ever. Her gaze shifted to stare up the steps, the motorcycle catching her attention immediately, as she carefully walked. She nodded slowly as she looked at it. The bike was definitely better than the boat, in Emory's opinion.

" No," she murmured, shaking her head as she accepted the helmet and pulled it onto her head. She ignored the slight discomfort of her ponytail, preferring to keep her hair up than having to rearrange it. Emory slowly got on the seat behind Milo, wrapping her arms around his torso and gripping her own hands tightly. She was not taking chances on falling off.

" About a week now," she answered, hoping he would hear her over the engine. Emory became silent as her mind processed this. Yes, a week and she'd just found the radio a few days ago when she'd went out to search for supplies. After all, she hadn't known how long she'd have to stay at St. Thomas'. " How long have you been here for?" She asked as she stared up at the cathedral,

" The start?" Emory was shocked, she'd made sure to constantly change her hideouts. Staying a few days or, in her most recent case, a week maximum. " That's a long time," she added, following him to the doors. Her uninjured hand gripped the strap of her bag tightly as she scanned the area. " So it must be safer around here," she mused aloud, mainly to herself.

Emory didn't respond, silently agreeing with him. That's how it was now and that's how it was most likely going to stay, she thought as she followed Milo to the back area. Standing beside him, she wondered what he was doing before glancing at the cabinet. This caused her to remember the faint stinging in her hand and she lifted it, her blue eyes surprised at the amount of blood that now stained the cloth. It was leftover from a shirt she had tore up for such things as bandages, a very pale blue colour and considerably soft material.

Milo rummaged around for a moment before cussing under his breath, mentioning the lack of gauze in the cabinet. Instead, he took off the bandanna and rinsed it before putting some antibacterial on it and turning back to Emory. She let him wrap the damp cloth around her hand, smiling slightly at him. " Thank you," the woman said, gratitude filling her voice.

Then she turned, her gaze scanning the building she now stood in. Well, there was plenty of room. That was for certain.

Her lips turned up into a smile, quietly laughing as she followed Milo. " Oh, I'm sure that would go over well," Emory replied, her tone light. Within a few minutes she'd followed the male down into the cellar, she noticed the air felt slightly damp as her feet hit the hard floor. She had expected it since cellars were below ground and the moisture in the soil was bound to make itself known.

Emory nodded, he was speaking so fast she could barely get a word in. Not that she minded, of course. Though, her eyes became puzzled at the sight of the sign, the one names scribbled over. Emory couldn't help but wonder about this 'Allie'. What had happened to her? Why was her name scratched out? She didn't say these aloud but the floated through her mind as Milo explained and showed her around. She hoped she didn't show her confusion even as she shook her head, " I think I can remember that," she said slowly. " Um, where would the 'facilities' be?" Emory couldn't help asking since hed told her practically everything else.

" Alright," she said lightly, raising her uninjured hand in a short wave as she began down the hall in the direction of the bathroom. She closed the door once she entered before walking to the sink, turning the taps to allow the water to flow. Emory stuck one hand under the cold water, wincing at the temperature, before raising her hand to her face to wipe away some of the dirt and grime that stuck to her cheeks. She kept it up and, before long, her face was clear of dirt and she felt wide awake. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror as she turned the tap again, cutting off the flow of water.

Droplets of water had soaked the collar of her shirt and the tips of her bangs had fallen free, now a little damp. Regardless, Emory felt quite pleased as she opened the door and walked from the room, intent on finding a room to rest in.

Emory was walking down the hall when she heard loud noises which made her almost jump out of her skin. Thumps and crashes were heard only to be followed by the sound of Milo's voice cursing. She followed this to stand at the door, her arms crossed over her chest as she observed the man trying to 'kill' a downed dummy with a kick as he turned.

She raised a dark eyebrow, " Did it fight back or was that all just you?"

She shook her head, " No, I think I'm good." Emory's eyes didn't leave the dummy, beaten and abandoned, on the floor. " Maybe we should go get something productive done then, agreed?"

" Anything," She said as she shook her head, her long brown hair shifting over her shoulders. " As long as it's of good use, I really don't care."

Emory smiled sheepishly, shaking her head again. " Not really," she replied, her tone a bit embarrassed. " Scavenging is definitely more my forte of the three." She shrugged as she stepped backward, out of the room. " But I could learn..?" Emory left the question to hang in the air, certain he'd say no.

// No problem! Been wondering where you were! :p //

" That's great!" She said cheerfully, quite impressed with how far ahead her saviour had thought. Whereas Emory, on the other hand, had barely had enough to last herself a few more days out there.

Emory laughed, " I doubt that will be a problem." She didn't say anything about outside the cathedral where she'd had to shoot her own father point-blank to save herself. " So, where to?"

She let out a low laugh, 'Miss Thorne'? Emory hadn't been called that since she'd sat in her private school's headmaster's office and he'd told her that her latest 'stunt' had gotten her expelled. Memories that amused her, the good old days.

Emory followed Milo upstairs to the garage, her eyes automatically lifting to stare up and around her as the man flicked on the light switch. " So you work on cars for a hobby?" She said lightly, a smile playing on her lips.

" True enough," Emory laughed as the man draped his arm over her shoulders, a smirk on his lips. She allowed Milo to lead her around, showing her everything and explaining several things she asked about. She was pleased he was so patient, she had so many questions.

After returning to the main room Milo turned to her and smiled, asking her is she was ready to begin. Emory took a small breath before smiling back at him, her eyes showing her amusement and excitement, nodding her head. " I think I am."

" I'm good with heights," Emory answered as she tilted her head up, " It's water I don't like." Her eyes turned back to Milo, curiousity shining in their pale colour. " What am I doing, exactly?" She asked, her expression showing her puzzlement. Was she putting the sheets of metal and the broken pipes on the truck? And, if so, where?