Bianca's sick.

Bianca has had a fever for several days now. We're not sure what's wrong with her. L.T. and I decided we would head into town for some antibiotics and any other medical supplies we could gather from a small clinic there.

The town was looking pretty desolate. Just as we passed the main square we heard a gun shot reverberate off the buildings in the street.

"Where's it coming from?" L.T. said as we both scanned the streets.

Looking down an alley I spotted a thorpe running at the opposite end. "There; on the right."

L.T. swung down the next allay and when we came out the far side we saw multiple thorpes rushing toward the clinic we were going to. One thorpe was already beating on the door and several more joined in. L.T. pulled the truck to the side of the building where I had clear shots at the thorpes on the door. "You take them down. I'll cover the street." L.T. said as he stepped from the truck. Carefully I lined up my shot. I dropped the first one. That brought the attention of the others. They turned and rushed the truck. I dropped three en route. I could hear L.T.'s gun fire at the rear of the truck. The first thorpe to reach the truck came so fast that it impaled itself on the barrel of my rifle! This didn't cause it's determination to waiver in the least. Luckily the rifle gave me a good stand off with which to keep the thorpe at bay while I drew my pistol. I put one round between it's eyes but as it fell back it pulled the rifle from my hand and the but stock came up and raked my face hard. I fell back into the truck and I dropped my pistol as my hands immediately shot to my face. When I pulled them away they were dripping with blood. Starring at my crimson fingers I didn't see the thorpe at my window until it was reaching in to grab me. As it leaned it's head in I began frantically searching for my pistol. As I rolled to my side to reach the floor boards I felt the weight of the thorpes body fall on me. I began kicking and screaming; trying to pull myself across the car while keeping the things head away from me.

"James! Jmaes! It's dead!" L.T. shouted. He grabbed the corpse and pulled it back out the window. As he did I saw through the windshield that there was a man on the roof of the clinic with a bolt action rifle. When I sat up I saw where his bullet exited the head of the thorpe and entered the seat I had been sitting on.

L.T. opened the door and helped me out. "Hold still." He pulled a dressing from a cargo pocket on his gear and pressed it against my face. "Keep pressure on it."

"I'm coming down to let you in," the man on the roof called out.

L.T. led me inside. With the blood and the dressing I could hardly see. "Let me take a look," L.T. said as he pulled the dressing carefully from my face.

"He's definitely going to need some stitches," the man from the roof said. L.T. looked at him sceptically. "I'm a doctor. This is my clinic. I have all the supplies. Here," the doctor handed L.T. a bottle and some gauze, "start cleaning him up."

As the doctor went for supplies L.T. began to wash my face. "Guess you picked the right place to get hurt."

"I didn't know there was ever a right place to get hurt." I said. As I tried to let out a laugh I felt an intense burning pain in my lip. As I reached up L.T. pulled my hand back down.

"You don't want to touch that." He said.

"Is it bad? I mean is it - oh man - "

"Relax. If this guy's really a doc - "

"I am," the doctor said as he came in. "Unfortunately I don't have any anesthetic."

"I can handle it. Just get me fixed up so we can get out of here."

The doctor prepped a suture needle and had me lay back on the table while L.T. held my head still. The doctor started on the first stitch and I felt like he was ripping my face off...then everything went black.

When I came to I was laying in the back seat of the Humvee. L.T. and the doc were in the front and we were moving. I sat up and saw myself in the rear-view mirror. My upper lip had almost an inch of stitches holding it together and I had another couple in my eyebrow.

"Mornin' tough guy."

"Shut up L.T." I mumbled through swollen lips. He chuckled as we pulled into the garage at the house. I hope this doctor can do something for Bianca.

A Little Back Story on L.T.

L.T.'s place is quite secure. It's a few miles out of town and all the doors and windows are reinforced. I make it sound like a prison but it actually looks very nice. The metal bracing on the doors is all encased inside nice wood work. There are metal shutters that come down over the windows but they are contained within the exterior walls and go completely unnoticed until they're deployed. Which they are. Every night.

That's probably why I felt comfortable enough to sit down with L.T. and share a bottle of scotch after Bianca had gone to bed. I didn't realize it until this morning when I awoke with a massive head ache but that scotch was the first alcohol I have had since the original outbreak in L.A. It hit me pretty hard. But I am going to try and relay some of the conversation I had with L.T.

L.T. started talking to me about when Bianca and I were brought in to the holding facility after trying to breech the military barrier around L.A.

"We brought you guys in to the processing area. Bianca was already awake. I couldn't bring myself to hit her very hard and she was fully awake before we even got her into the truck to take her to base. Anyway, after processing we started to move you into one holding area and her into another. She lost it. That petite little thing started screaming, 'You can't take him! You can't take him!' Before I could cross the room she had broken one guards nose and kicked one so hard between the legs she ruptured one of his testicles. I grabbed her from behind and lifted her off the ground in a bear hug. I started shouting to her that we would put her in the cell across from you. She would see you the whole time. That got her calmed down. I tell you that girl probably would have killed somebody if we had tried to get her in a cell where she couldn't see you. If they did get her in she probably would have chewed through the damn bars!"

"She's been through some things. We've been through some things." I looked, probably unnaturally long, at my scotch before changing the subject. "So you were a lieutenant?"

"No. Nope. I am a Gunnery Sergeant."

"So why L.T.?"

"My names Luke Thomas. Two first names always seemed creepy to me. Sort of serial killer esque don't ya think? Anyway I just always went by L.T."

"Were you in combat? I mean before all this?"

"I was. Deployed multiple times." At that point he looked down at his scotch for an unnaturally long time.

"So you a little worried about break-ins?"

"What? Oh the shutters and doors. No. I was a security consultant for the past few years. I used my house as a showcase for new products. I worked with..."

At that point things got a little fuzzy. I don't remember much else other than being helped to my bed and then seeing L.T. walk out of the room with his rifle over his shoulder. I think we'll be safe here. Maybe we'll even be able to help some others too.