Chapter Text
The cafeteria was alive with warmth and laughter, the long table filled with steaming dishes and bottles of wine. The group sat together, their spirits higher than they had been in months, enjoying the rare comfort of a proper meal. The sound of clinking glasses, soft chatter, and bursts of laughter echoed off the sterile walls.
Shane was the last to take his seat, his movements slow and deliberate. He slid into the chair next to Lori, his gaze fixed on the table, the lively atmosphere around him seeming distant. Lori glanced at him briefly, her face unreadable, but she quickly looked away, focusing on the others and not acknowledging his presence. Shane remained silent, the faint hum of tension following him as the table buzzed with joy.
Rick stood up, holding his glass of wine and tapping it lightly with a fork. The gentle ringing sound brought the group’s attention to him, their chatter fading as they turned to listen.
"I just want to say a few words," Rick began, his voice steady and warm. He raised his glass slightly toward Jenner. "First, to you Doc—for your hospitality, for opening your doors to us when we had nowhere else to go. You saved our lives."
The group nodded and murmured their agreement, glasses lifting in acknowledgment. Rick turned his attention to the others, his smile widening. "And to Lori, Carol, and Andrea, for preparing this feast!”
Before Rick could continue, Carl piped up from his seat, grinning eagerly. "Hey! What about me?"
The table erupted into laughter as Rick looked down at his son, his expression softening. "Right," he said with a chuckle. "And to Carl—for peeling the potatoes like a champ."
Carl beamed at the acknowledgment, and the group laughed again, the moment breaking whatever lingering tension remained. Glasses clinked as everyone joined in the toast, the warmth of the moment spreading across the table. Even Shane glanced up briefly, though his expression remained distant, a stark contrast to the shared joy around him.
The laughter began to settle as Rick, still standing with his glass raised, shifted his tone. His expression grew serious, the weight of recent losses pressing heavily into the room. "I also want to say something about Glenn, T-Dog, and Ed," he said, his voice quieter but firm. The table fell silent, the joy from moments before evaporating as everyone turned their attention back to him.
"We left them behind," Rick continued, his eyes scanning the group. "Not because we wanted to, but because we had no choice. But I promise you, when the horde outside clears and we have a chance, we will go out there, and we will look for them. We won’t give up on them." His voice wavered slightly, but his resolve shone through, the unspoken guilt etched on his face.
The room was still, the only sound was the faint clink of a fork against a plate.
At the edge of the room, Jenner stood near the doorway, his body stiff and his face unreadable. As Rick spoke about going back out, Jenner’s hand moved toward his mouth, a nervous gesture he quickly suppressed. His gaze darted toward the table, then away, as though the words were dredging up something he didn’t want to confront. Without a word, he turned and left the room, his footsteps echoing faintly in the corridor.
Rick noticed Jenner’s departure but didn’t comment, his focus remaining on the group. "We owe it to them," he finished, his voice filled with drunken determination. The silence that followed was heavy, each person lost in their own thoughts, the earlier laughter and warmth now just a fleeting memory.
Jacqui’s eyes lingered on Jenner as he slipped out of the room, his tense demeanour and quick departure not escaping her notice. She turned slightly in her chair, looking back at Jim, who sat quietly behind her, his face shadowed by the dim light.
"Sweetie," she said softly, leaning closer to him, her voice low to avoid drawing attention. "I’ve got a bad feeling about him. Something’s off. We should follow him, see what he’s up to."
Jim hesitated, his hand moving to his face as he adjusted his moustache. “Maybe he’s just tired, it’s been a long day for all of us and we only just got here Jacqui. I don’t want him thinking we’re snooping."
Her hand found his forearm, her touch firm but reassuring. "I trust my gut on this," she said, her eyes locking with his. "I just need you to trust me."
Jim exhaled, his shoulders sagging slightly before he nodded. "Alright," he said quietly, his voice carrying a reluctant edge. "But we keep it quiet."
Jacqui smiled faintly; her confidence renewed by his agreement. She turned back to the group and raised her voice just enough for the others to hear without suspicion. "We’re going to turn in for the night," she announced casually, standing and brushing her hands on her jeans.
Jim followed her lead, the two slipping out of the room unnoticed by most as the group remained focused on Rick’s heavy speech. They stepped into the corridor, the faint hum of the CDC’s systems echoed as they trailed after Jenner, their unease growing with every step.
The remnants of the meal lingered on the table; the wine bottles nearly empty as the group began to wind down. Rick stood off to the side, deep in conversation with Allen and Andrea, their voices low and thoughtful as they discussed the earlier promise to search for their missing group members. Laughter and murmured conversations filled the room, but not everyone was at ease.
Lori remained seated at the table beside Shane, her arms crossed as she watched Rick with a mixture of pride and worry. Shane, slouched in his chair and visibly drunk, swirled the last of his wine in the glass before setting it down heavily. His eyes lingered on Lori for a moment before, in a haze of alcohol and misplaced confidence, he reached out and placed his hand on her thigh.
Lori froze, her entire body stiffening as her head snapped toward him. Her eyes were sharp with fury, but she kept her voice low, her jaw tight as she hissed through clenched teeth, "What the hell are you doing?"
Shane blinked at her, his drunken smirk fading as he registered her reaction. He began to stammer something, but Lori cut him off, her voice still controlled but brimming with quiet rage. "Common room. Now." She stood abruptly, her movements sharp as she refused to meet anyone else’s gaze, determined to avoid drawing attention to the sudden tension.
Dale, seated a few chairs away, noticed the shift immediately. His sharp eyes flicked between Lori’s rigid posture and Shane’s dazed confusion, his brow furrowing as he watched them leave the room together. Lori marched out first, her shoulders squared, while Shane stumbled after her, his steps uneven but obedient.
The chatter in the room continued, most of the group oblivious to the sudden undercurrent of tension. Dale, however, sat back in his chair, his gaze lingering on the door as unease settled over him like a shadow.
Lori stormed into the common room, her rage erupting the moment she slammed the door shut behind them. The sound echoed sharply through the sterile space as she turned to face Shane, her eyes blazing with fury.
"Maybe I didn’t make myself clear back at the quarry," she snapped, her voice trembling with suppressed anger. "So let me make it perfectly clear for you now. Rick—my husband—is back. I love him. What we did, what we had, was because you told me he was fucking dead! It meant nothing. Nothing. If you ever lay another hand on me, I swear I will tell him everything."
Shane stood in the doorway, swaying slightly, his eyes narrowing as her words cut through the haze of alcohol. For a moment, he looked stunned, but his expression quickly hardened, his jaw tightening. "No, you won’t," he said bluntly, his voice low and cold.
Before Lori could react, Shane closed the distance between them in a few quick strides, his movements erratic but forceful. He grabbed her arms, shoving her backward until she hit the pool table. Panic flashed across her face as he pinned her down, his weight pressing her against the cold surface. Lori struggled, her voice rising in anger and fear as she pushed against him with all her strength.
"Shane, get off me!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the room. But Shane’s grip tightened, his face twisted with a mix of frustration, pain, and something darker, as his hand slid further up her thigh.
The room seemed to close in around them, the tension suffocating, as Lori continued to fight, her fury and terror fuelling her resistance.
Meanwhile, Jacqui and Jim moved silently through the white halls, the whirl of the CDC’s systems masking the sound of their cautious footsteps. Ahead of them, Dr. Jenner exited a lab, his movements precise as he locked the door behind him using the digital panel on the wall. The faint beep of the lock engaging echoed in the corridor as Jenner adjusted the blood vial in his hand, its contents glinting under the fluorescent lights. Without a glance back, he turned down a separate hallway and disappeared.
Jacqui nudged Jim gently, her voice low but firm. "I’ll keep an eye on him. You need to check out the lab."
Jim stopped in his tracks; his hesitation evident as he glanced at the secured door. His shoulders tensed, and he shook his head slightly. "Jacqui, I… I don’t know. If we get caught—if I get caught—he could throw us back out there. I can’t go back out there," he said, his voice trembling slightly, a rare crack in his usually stoic demeanour. He turned to her, his eyes filled with a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before. "And I can’t lose someone else I care about. I can’t lose you."
Jacqui froze, her breath catching as she looked at him. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. Jim had always been the quiet one, the one who kept his feelings buried under layers of distance and practicality. But now, his words hung in the air, raw and honest, and it struck her harder than she expected.
Her expression softened, and she reached out, placing a hand lightly on his arm. "Sweetie," she said gently, her voice tinged with surprise. "You’re not going to lose me. I promise. But we have to know what’s going on here. If he’s hiding something, we need to find out—for all of us."
Jim’s jaw tightened, his internal conflict evident, but after a moment, he nodded reluctantly. "Alright," he said, his voice steadier now. "But be careful, Jacqui. Please."
Without saying a word, she leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek, her lips lingering for just a heartbeat before she pulled back. "Be careful," she said softly, her voice steady but filled with meaning. "We’ve got this."
Jim blinked, momentarily taken aback, his hand instinctively brushing the spot where her lips had touched. He nodded, his resolve hardening despite the swirl of emotions in his chest. "You too," he murmured.
Jacqui gave him one last reassuring smile before turning and heading down the corridor after Jenner, her figure disappearing around the corner. Jim stood frozen for a moment, his heart pounding, before shifting his focus to the locked lab door. With a deep breath, he approached the digital panel, his determination outweighing his fear as he began to inspect it.
Jim stood before the digital panel, his fingers grazing the smooth surface as he examined it closely. The hum of the locked mechanism was steady, and he could see the faint glow of its activated state. He exhaled sharply, his eyes darting around the hallway. There had to be a way to bypass it.
His gaze landed on a nearby maintenance closet, the door slightly ajar. Moving quickly but quietly, he slipped inside. The small, cluttered space smelled faintly of oil and dust, and shelves were lined with various tools and equipment. His eyes scanned the contents until they landed on a screwdriver. Grabbing it, he tucked it into his back pocket and returned to the panel.
Kneeling by the panel, Jim carefully pried off the outer casing, exposing a tangled array of wires and circuits beneath. His hands trembled slightly as he worked, but his focus was sharp. He studied the wiring, his mind racing.
He adjusted the screwdriver in his hand and carefully bridged two exposed wires, watching as a small spark leapt between them. The hum of the lock faltered, and the faint glow of the panel dimmed before going dark. Jim let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as the door clicked softly, signalling it had unlocked.
Standing, he hesitated for just a moment, his hand hovering over the door handle. Then, steeling himself, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, his heart pounding as he prepared to uncover whatever Jenner had been hiding.
Jim stepped cautiously into the lab. His eyes were immediately drawn to a table neatly stacked with files, each bearing a name from their group. He picked one up—his own name printed clearly across the front. Flipping it open, he saw detailed notes about his health, blood type, and observations from their admission. A cold chill crept over him as he realized there was a file for every one of them, meticulously filled out.
Turning, his gaze landed on the glowing monitors along one wall. The screens displayed graphs and data streams—complex blood analyses labelled with their names. As he approached, Jim’s stomach twisted. Every result indicated "Positive" for a particular marker, though the specifics were cryptic. He leaned closer, squinting at the screen as his pulse quickened. Whatever Jenner had been testing for, they all had it.
His hands shook slightly as he turned his attention to another monitor displaying file folders labelled TS-1 through TS-19. Hesitating for a moment, he clicked on the first file, a video feed beginning to play. A man in a lab coat appeared, speaking into the camera. His tone was calm, but his words were clinical and chilling as he described early tests, the infection's progression, and attempts to understand its effects.
One by one, Jim clicked through the files, each more horrifying than the last. The videos showed experiments—first on dead walkers, then live test subjects who had been bitten or turned—as Jenner and other scientists documented the infection’s impact on the brain. The final files were darker still, showing chaos within the CDC: desperate scientists, arguments, and panicked walkouts.
Jim stumbled back from the screen, his breath coming in short gasps. His hands gripped the edge of the desk as the implications hit him like a freight train. Whatever Jenner had found—whatever he was hiding—it was big. Too big to keep to himself.
Without a second thought, Jim bolted from the lab, his footsteps echoing in the silent hallways as he ran to gather the others. He burst into the cafeteria, his face pale and eyes wide with urgency. "You all need to come with me," he said, his voice trembling but firm. The group, who had been winding down after the meal, looked up in alarm.
Dale was the first to approach him, concern etched into his weathered face. "Son, you don’t look so good," he said gently, placing a hand on Jim’s shoulder. "What’s wrong?"
Jim shook his head, brushing off Dale’s concern. "I don’t have time to explain. You just… you just have to see this,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. He turned and motioned for them to follow.
Uneasy murmurs rippled through the group as they exchanged glances, but one by one, they stood and followed Jim down the sterile halls. The tension grew as they entered the lab. The files on the desk caught their attention immediately. Andrea picked one up, her name bold across the front, and flipped through it, her brows furrowing as she scanned the notes. Others quickly grabbed their files, reading in silence as the unsettling reality sank in.
Amy and Carol, sensing the tension, quietly guided the children to sit on a few chairs in the corner. Jim, pacing near the monitors, looked over at them and said, "The kids… they might not want to see this." His voice cracked, and Carol nodded, understanding.
"Come on, let’s get to your rooms," Carol said softly, herding the children toward the door. Lizzie hesitated; her face determined. "I want to stay," she said firmly.
"No," Allen interjected, his voice stern but kind. "Go with Carol, Lizzie. Please."
Lizzie pouted but obeyed, glancing back one last time before leaving with Carol and the others. Carl, however, stayed rooted to his spot, his eyes wide with curiosity. "I’m not going," he said firmly.
Rick, scanning the room, suddenly realized Lori and Shane weren’t among them. His eyes narrowed slightly, but he turned to his son and crouched down. "It’s okay," he said softly. "You can stay."
Jim, not waiting for more debate, turned to the monitors. "Look at this," he said, his voice urgent as he began pulling up the video files labelled TS-19. The faint glow of the screens filled the room as the group gathered around, bracing themselves.
Dr. Jenner appeared on the screen, standing in a sterile lab with a woman strapped to a chair in front of him. She was wearing a lab coat, her face pale but composed, a visible bite mark on her arm. Jenner looked crushed, his shoulders slumped, and his expression heavy and still.
His voice, trembling but professional, broke the silence. "Test Subject 19," he said, his tone hollow. "Two hours after receiving a bite from Test Subject 18." Jim shifted uncomfortably, recognizing the connection to the earlier footage he had watched alone.
The footage skipped to a moment between the two doctors, the woman spoke, her voice soft but resolute. "Edwin," she said, addressing Jenner directly, her eyes locking onto his. "Promise me. No matter what happens, you stay. You keep working on this. You find a cure."
Jenner’s face twisted in pain, his lips pressing into a thin line as he nodded. "I promise," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The woman gave him a faint smile, “I love you,” she gasped, her head tilting back against the chair as she exhaled her final breath.
Jenner stepped closer to her, his hands trembling as he checked her pulse. "Time of death: 18:43," he stated mechanically, though his voice cracked. The camera shifted slightly as he turned to face it, his face shadowed in grief.
He took a deep breath before continuing, his voice flat, stripped of emotion. "Final conclusion: the virus is universal. We are all infected." The room around the group seemed to shrink as his words sank in. Jenner went on, his explanation clinical yet chilling. “We are all carrying the virus, which remains dormant in the brain. Once the body dies, the virus activates the brain stem, reanimating only the basic motor functions. The body moves, it feeds, but it’s not alive. The human part—the part that makes you, you—that dies with you."
The weight of his words sank into the room like a stone. The group stood frozen, their faces pale and stunned as the revelation hit them. Amy clutched Andrea’s arm, as the sisters watched the footage in shock. Dale removed his hat, his head bowing slightly as the realization settled over him. Rick’s hand instinctively reached for Carl’s shoulder, pulling him closer to restrict his view of the monitor.
Jim hesitated, his hand hovering over the mouse as the video continued to play. On the screen, Jenner stood motionless for a moment, staring into the camera. His voice returned, calm but lifeless. "I will continue my work on a cure," he said. "But further progress will require additional test subjects. I have reason to believe that Paris have made more breakthroughs than myself, but I will do what I can. For her."
Behind him, the woman strapped to the chair began to stir. Her body twitched, lifeless eyes snapping open as her head jerked to one side. Jenner didn’t flinch, his focus remaining on the camera. "Reanimation time: fifteen minutes and thirty-two seconds, " he said clinically, his voice devoid of the emotion that had filled it earlier. He turned to glance at her briefly before walking to the camera and switching off the recording. The screen went dark.
The room was deathly silent, the group standing frozen as the weight of what they had witnessed sank in. Tears rolled silently down Andrea’s face as she gripped the edge of the desk, her knuckles white. Amy placed a hand on her sister’s arm, her own face pale and horrified.
Allen, standing off to the side, drew in a shaky breath, holding himself together by sheer will. His voice broke the oppressive silence. "Look," he said, motioning to the data on the screens. "Those files… they’ve got test subject labels attached to our names." He pointed to one of the monitors, where his own name appeared beside the label TS-23.
The group’s attention snapped to the screens, their eyes scanning the names and designations. Jim stepped closer, his heart pounding in his chest. His breath caught when he saw it: TS-20 – Jacquiline Martin.