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.