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teacup-crow · 4 years

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The Diplomats, Part One

Part 3 of my Carena-in-the-future series is out now! This is the first of two chapters because it got too long. Check out the rest of the series here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019146

Carena is sent on a mission with sworn Fort Canton enemy, Joe. ZRS4 spoilers, very minor S5-6 spoilers. CW childhood trauma, explosions

“Wye aye! It’s “Just Caz”! Or should I say, Princess Carena Skeet herself?”

Joe Garron, Fort Canton’s Runner Thirty-Seven, was clearly equipped for a long expedition. There was no mistaking his stupid freckled face or grating accent, and she’d unashamedly attempted to kick those big gerbil-like teeth in before in a scrum that had got so bad Janine had banned inter-settlement rugby for the foreseeable future. Ever since their first meeting, there had been a mutual distrust, and they’d spent every training exercise since trying to one-up each other, usually egged on by his crowd of leering mates.

“Oh, fuck no,” Caz said, and turned on her heel. “This was not the deal.”

“This was absolutely the deal,” Dr Myers reminded her over comms. “You and a Fort Canton representative are going together to the conference and doing some reconnaissance on the way.”

She remembered the conversation, of course she did. Her foster father was in work boots and a duffle coat, mismatched with the nice tablecloth they’d got out for the King, hands held out to her, saying:

“I could have asked any of my kids. I’m askin’ you because you’re just like me, Caz.”

Years ago that might have pacified her, but now she was adamant. “You can’t expect me to go away for a whole month with people I don’t even know! I’ve got a life here!”

“Thought you always wanted to ‘get out of this dump’.”

“Yeah, well. I’m not a kid anymore. And it’s… it’s… Abel’s not so bad.”

She’d stood up to refill her mug of tea from the pot. He suddenly seemed quite small and old to her, although he couldn’t be more than forty. When had that happened?

“I can’t make you -” he’d broken off. “Well, technically I probably can make you, but I won’t do that. I’ll be honest, I don’t see how it’s any of your business, but it’s about the symbolism of the whole thing apparently. Princess and that. And you’ll get to see the country, make somethin’ of yourself.”

“If the job’s about talkin’ to people, you could send Naveen, or Lilly, or even Jade-”

“They’re not Runners. You’re the one with trainin’, and the most likely person that Fort Canton would approve being out with in the field. And again, it’s more about the… other mission, than the conference.”

“So you don’t want me to go because I’m most like you, then?”

“Caz,” Jamie had sounded tired. “I’ll say again: you don’t have to do this. I can ask Naveen, and Janine will send a Runner with him. But Christ, it would make our lives easier, and I think you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

In the present, Joe winked at her.

“I’m not going with him!” She hissed into the mic. “He’s a knob !”

“Joe is the Runner Fort Canton has chosen, and they clearly trust him, just like we trust you. There’s a huge amount of responsibility on your shoulders now, Carena. The King and Abel need you. Are you going to let us down?”

Carena growled, and stomped towards him. “If you can’t manage to call me Caz, Runner Ten will do.”

“Yes, yes, whatever you say, your royal highness,” he bowed. Carena’s first act of diplomacy was not punching him right then and there. “Should we get going? It’s only 10K to the first rest point.”

She immediately began to run, not checking to see if he was keeping in step. To her irritation, he saw that coming.

***

The diplomats were tasked with visiting several key settlements on the route to the conference in London, “meeting with young community representatives to work out their priorities in rebuilding Britain, yadda yadda yadda, blah blah blah”. Carena had accidentally zoned out during most of Janine’s brief.

Their other mission was to gather information on a new, particularly nasty fringe group who’d been undermining the uneasy truces Abel and Canton had formed, dragging up muck from years gone and causing chaos all over southern England. Most reports said the group members were young - younger than Carena, too young to even remember a life before zoms. “Oh, you’ve never heard of Lord of the Flies, have you? Well, imagine if Peter Pan and the Lost Boys were, ah, cannibalistic”, Janine had put it. Carena was definitely listening at that point.

On the upside, the mission was a chance to really see the country. On the downside, this involved a lot of walking. And talking, at least on Joe’s behalf. He never seemed to stop, telling her meandering stories about his fiance Emily and long pieces of Fort Canton gossip Carena couldn’t care less about, even as they wandered through the woods they’d been warned about the most.

“Keep it down, will you? And keep an eye out for traps. God knows what they’ve got.”

“I know what I’m doing! Unlike you lot, we actually train our Runners properly.”

Carena couldn’t help but laugh at that, incredulous. “Abel are the heroes of the apocalypse, your lot are just two-bit second-rate cowards.”

“Oooooh, feisty! But you’re not so heroic now, are you? The whole town bowing to everything your dad and his government says?”

The goading alongside the days of nonstop talking was too much, and Carena snapped, a particularly nasty snippet of hearsay coming to the forefront of her mind. It was rolling out of her mouth even as Dr Cohen scolded her for it in her head. Gossip is a sin for a reason.

“Well, what about your mum? Think you’re so much better than me and my dad, but where’s she?”

“Ten, I’d shut it if I were you.” All the laughter dropped from Joe’s face now, replaced with a seriousness she’d never seen from him before.

“Because I’ve heard all sorts of stuff about her. Fort Canton people all have big mouths. I heard she’s crazy . Lives with Kytan in the madhouse, don’t she?”

“Don’t you fucking talk about me mam!” Joe raised his fists and stepped towards her to the click of an IED.

The two of them paused for just a moment, the boy’s face paling before he screamed: “RUN!”

She didn’t need to be told twice. She sprinted, and he dived after her for a few seconds before the explosion threw them to the ground, ears ringing, shrapnel splintering through the air towards them.

***

Carena woke up. Her head sang out. Everything was fuzzy, slightly unreal, drifting in and out of reality. There was a heavy blanket on top of her. Oh. She must have the flu again, Dr Cohen piling on the duvets. Hopefully, someone would bring her a glass of water soon, because her mouth tasted dusty, bloody. Bloody?

She’d bit her tongue. Her headset whistled static - the explosion must have knocked the frequency. Explosion?

Suddenly, she was thrown into the present. Not a blanket on top of her, but big Joe bloody Garron. Joe bloody… lifesaving Garron. Joe, her only shield from the piercing rain of nuts and bolts and screws.

“Thirty-Seven? Thirty-Seven! Joe!”

To her relief, he groaned, and rolled to one side. She crawled out from underneath him.

His backpack had protected his head and neck somewhat, but his legs where he’d rolled up his walking trousers were peppered with wounds and shards of scrap metal. He whimpered as he breathed, conscious despite his best wishes.

“Joe, we have to move. If they can set one trap like that, this whole thing is a trap. We’re both in our uniforms. If they hate Abel and Fort Canton, who knows what they’ll do with us!”

“I know,” he hissed. “I just, I dunno how far I can get.” He began to unbuckle his rucksack. “Take my bag. At least they won’t get any supplies out of it.”

“I’m not leaving you!”

“You can’t.... you can’t carry me, I’m two stone heavier than you… and the mission - we need info on these little bastards…”

“ Fuck the mission, Runner Thirty-Seven! They’re cannibals! Get up. Now .”

“Got my gun. I’ll take a few of them out.”

“Come on, please!”

His tone and resolve barely wavered as the voices of approaching people began to echo through the woods. “Was an honour to serve with you.”

Carena grabbed his bag and held her hand out to pull him up. The voices were growing more distinct, and chilling. They were very childish, but the words were not.

“What are you gonna do with ‘em, boss?”

“Going to cut them into little pieces, see ‘ow they work.”

“Gonna cook ‘em!”

“Gonna do it slow, find out if they know anythin’ interesting, first.”

“Look, if you won’t get up for me, get up for Emily. She don’t deserve to lose you.”

Whether it’s this, or the savagery of the talk of the approaching kids, it was hard to know for sure, but Joe nodded, and through gritted teeth, got to his feet with a cry.

“Hold my hand. Don’t let go. Just put one foot in front of another. You can die when I’ve got us to safety.”

***

The campfire crackled and spat. Joe poked at it absently, the only evidence of Carena dabbing antiseptic on the last of his cuts the slight tightening of his jaw. Dr Cohen had been offering medical instructions over her headset from the minute they got to a secure building - Joe’s headset was unfortunately busted for good.

“Dr Cohen said to try and clean you up but not to take any of it out. We need to get you to a friendly settlement where they can do it properly. Abel’s identified one only eight miles or so off course. Barton Mound. They’re small, but they have a doctor, and maybe somethin’ stronger for the pain than two paracetamol and this shitty campfire tea.”

The boy smiled weakly. She started on the bandages.

“She must be important to you, this Emily.”

“Well, she’s the girl I’m gonna mar… oh no you don’t!” Joe stopped abruptly, dropping his stick and warming his hands over the flames.

“Oh no I don’t what ?”

“I’m savvy now, see.” Carena stared up at him. “Look, if you get me talking about me girl back home, ten minutes later I’ll wind up dead in your arms. It’s a tale as old as time, but I’m no redshirt.”

“Oh, you’re funny ,” she rolled her eyes, pretending she knew what a redshirt was.

“I do my best. But aye, my Emily’s a gem. She’s so smart. An engineer, you know. She designed this new way of harnessing solar power to heat - OW, TEN! What was that for?”

Carena had pulled the bandage a little too tight. “Talkin’ about your girl back home,” she said, mock-sweetly. “Let’s not tempt fate, shall we?”

“Maybe not,” he laughed, and rubbed at his mouth. “Least I’m too pathetic for you to punch me right now. Never forgot you have a mean right hook.”

“Well, I do a lot of fightin’.”

“You got a girl? Or, uh, guy?”

Carena snorted. “Nope. You tryin’ to get me killed now, Thirty-Seven?”

“Someday, Ten. Someday.”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are. Shut up and get some sleep. Tomorrow will be hard going.”

Half the time in Abel, she was desperately trying to find peace and quiet. Now, it was almost too silent. She tried to focus on the crackling of the fire, Joe shifting as he stoked the flames, and was almost relieved when he started chattering again.

“I’m sorry for takin’ the piss out of your title. I was thinkin’, how’s it even gonna work, anyway? Succession and all? With sixteen of you?”

“Lots of games of Rock, Paper, Scissors?” Carena sighed. “We don’t really know. People like havin’ a figurehead, but there’s no precedent for any of this. Hopefully Parliament will just abolish the monarchy or sommat.”

“Don’t fancy it?”

“You seen all Jamie’s had to put up with?”

“Fair point. You know, I’d quite fancy meself as a King. Think I’d suit a crown?”

“Your head’s too big to fit one.”

“Ouch, Ten! I’m wounded !”

“Yeah. Which is why you should be asleep.”

“You have a horrible bedside manner.”

“That’s why I’m a Runner, not a Medic,” she snarked back. “Funny, though. My Molly’s great in a crisis; she would be a much better help to you right now. Even little Sara’s probably picked up more about doctorin’ than I have.”

“Molly your girl?”

“No!”

“Huh. You said her name like she might be, ‘s all.”

“You’re about to feel my right hook again, injured or not. Shut up and go to sleep.”

“Shutting up, ma’am. Going to sleep now, ma’am.”

He did drift off shortly, sleeping in fits and starts when he woke from the pain. Carena sat with her back to him, a baseball bat in her hands, watching the night. Finally, she let herself cry.

***

The next morning, Joe looked paler. She made another cup of tea and crumbled more of their painkillers into it, hands and knees itching from her own grazes, her skin burning where the straps of her rucksack rubbed.

“Mornin’, Caz.” He managed a bit of his stupid grin. “Think we can justify eatin’ the jelly cubes yet?”

The nicest rations were tucked in the top of her pack. Without a word to the contrary, she pulled them out and unwrapped the foil, breaking off some strawberry jelly and handing it to him.

“The water don’t run in this house any more, unfortunately. We’ve got a couple litres left. Just got to hope this settlement is happy to see us.”

“Who wouldn’t be happy to be treated to the sight of us two?”

“People with eyes, brains and limited medical supplies of their own, prob’ly.”

His laugh was dry. “Ever the optimist, you.”

“Look, about yesterday. I’m sorry for what I said about your mum. My own big mouth got us into this.”

“‘S okay. It’s true. She is… she isn’t right in the head. Moonchild syndrome, a really bad case of it. Doesn’t remember me half the time. Not so great when she does.” He swallowed, and began to stamp out the last embers of the fire - they’d both slept with their shoes on, ready to go, and the pain of it seemed to be some distraction. “I was ten when she disappeared, and when she came back, she didn’t remember Dad, or baby Rosie either. They’d both died in the outbreak, it was always just us, and she was on the verge of madness for that but… that woman pushed her over the edge.”

“Joe…”

The boy continued, almost robotically, checking his gun without looking up at her.

“She was so confused, and it made her angry, and she used to take… well, I was right there, so... it’s not like anyone was paying much attention...” he trailed off, bit his lip in embarrassment. “Eventually she got convinced I’d gone grey too, tried to strangle me the same way she strangled Rosie. Skipping rope. God knows how she got hold of one, the sight of them always upset her... They wanted to kick her out of the town, let her fend for herself, but I… I begged them not to. So they locked her up instead, hid her from the Ministry till Kytan started helping people with Moonchild syndrome and they could palm her off on him.”

“Mate,” Carena said, buckling her pack, feeling her cheeks redden. “I dunno what to say.”

“C’mon, let’s move. You talk, for once. I need to think about something that’s not me legs.”

At least on the open road, traps were easier to spot. Carena racked her brain for a happy story, some way to brighten the mood.

“Okay, so… one time, me and my siblings tried to bake Dad a cake...”

They’d been really little, still living at the fire station. Archie was alive - she can remember the swish of the woman’s blonde hair against her cheek as she picked her up for a cuddle, how her voice sounded, all light and sing-song. “Now children, I am going upstairs for only ten minutes, just to have a shower. Be very good and we can go to the lake later! If you see zombies, ring the fire bell. ”

Jamie had gone mental at her later for even leaving them that long, but he was out picking up supplies from a military copter drop. In ten minutes, Naveen and Lilly had managed to coat themselves and half of the other children in flour. Jasper, somehow, had egg in his hair. Carena was sitting on the counter, decadently eating butter with a spoon and directing the scene. Archie had just laughed, and sprayed them all down with one of the hoses, and the cake-making fiasco turned into a giant water fight.

“Even the dog got involved!”

Joe grinned. “Sounds like a nice day.”

“It was,” Carena said, her voice a little softer than usual. “When I think back to that year, it’s all sunlight. Wasn’t perfect, ‘course. Archie died a few weeks after, and Jasper got turned. And… well, when Dad found out he was King he went to London for good.”

“That must’ve been hard. Him leaving like that, after you lost so many people.”

“He didn’t have much of a choice. But I didn’t always understand that, like.”

She’d been inconsolable for hours, and decided that night in her bunk that if she wasn’t good enough to make anyone stay, she would never trust them to.

“North-east, this settlement, aye?”

“Lead on.”

***

Barton Mound was a settlement of a few scraggly hilltop farmhouses, ten or eleven families surrounded on all sides by a barbed wire fence and only one gun turret. Joe and Carena both glanced at each other in distaste - it was hardly secure. Still, they had a medic and a well, and that wasn’t nothing.

Joe had got very quiet the last few miles, and Carena snuck worried looks at him as he slowed from an almost-jog to a walk to little more than a shuffle. If they were ambushed now by humans or zoms - which were unlikely but not impossible - they’d be in for it.

As they approached the makeshift gate, a woman holding a broom like a lance peered down at them.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“You should have had word of us in advance? Caz, Abel Runner Ten. This is Canton Thirty-Seven.”

Joe waved, and slumped down against the gatepost.

“He’s been better. It’s his legs, they’re full of shrapnel, and-”

The woman tightened her grip on the broom, a mild note of panic in her voice. “Kids, was it?”

“Yeah…”

“You’d best get in, quickly. Can you walk a bit farther?”

Joe grimaced, and nodded, following after her.

“Dr Renwick should be able to help him. Then you’ll have to get out of here.”

“‘Scuse me?” Carena bristled.

“Listen, those kids… it sounds ridiculous, but they’re savage. They… they won’t be happy you got away from them. They don’t like to leave the woods, but they’ll look for you.”

“Did they take one of your people?”

The woman ignored Joe’s question, but added: “We’re just trying to live in peace with everyone, all right? We don’t want to draw them on us, and we don’t want to anger your leaders either ‘cause… well, if Abel Township wanted us dead, they’d stop at nothing to do it.”

“That’s not the sort of thing we do-“ Carena began, then realised the woman didn’t care, and wouldn’t believe them even if she did.

Dr Renwick was a tall, imposing person with a serious, strict demeanour. They sighed at the state of Carena’s attempt at field dressings, and shooed her out of the hospital (really, a converted downstairs bedroom of an old family home) with a wave of a bony hand. So the girl sat on the bottom of the staircase and rummaged through her pack, finding a few tins of rice pudding and fruit to offer in gratitude to the residents who watched her with interest and fear, surveying her like a curiosity. She scowled.

“I won’t be long,” she’d promised Molly in the kitchens, the day before she left. “A month, tops. I’ll be back well before Sara’s ninth.”

“That is long, ” her best friend had replied, hands tightening on the scrubbing brush. “How do those cooks manage to burn the stew onto every pan?”

“Stop changin’ the subject, Moll. I know you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you-”

“You are. You volunteered for kitchen duty to try and avoid my last night. And you’re actually not smilin’ at me for once.”

Molly snorted, and splashed her with soap suds. “Not like you to notice. Will you get on and dry these dishes? I’m running out of surface space.”

“I don’t want to go. Dad and Janine, they…”

“I don’t care, Caz. You have to do your duty, I get it. I just… I’m going to miss you. I know you know what it’s like, being left.”

“Yeah. Someone left me to starve in a town full of twisted soldiers.”

The younger girl swang round in a swirl of indignant blonde curls. “Carena, I was a child-“

“So was I. So was I, Molly!” The glasses clinked as she dried them too fiercely; she felt her breath get sharp and hot, like she was losing control of the conversation, losing control of the situation. She took another, and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I know there was nothing you could do. But I swear, I’ll be back before you know it. I’ll talk to you on comms whenever I can.”

All she wanted was to talk with her right now, to not be surrounded by suspicious faces, to be thinking about anything except the pain in Joe’s eyes.

***

The settlement couldn’t spare antibiotics, but they did have codeine, and that had already helped bring the cheer back to Joe’s face. “Just please keep the wounds clean,” the doctor grumbled. “I’d advise you to stick to the roads.”

“Are you sure you don’t want someone to pick you up, Thirty-Seven?” Joe’s operator was at the Abel comms desk, and Carena was relaying all of her messages through a bad impression of her accent.

“And miss out on all the fun? Not a chance! Give me that headset, Caz.” He snatched it. “Nadia, I am fine. Tell Emily I’m fine!”

“How much metal did you get out of his legs?” Carena asked out of curiosity as Joe regaled the operator with tales of his heroism.

“Let’s just say an airport scanner would have had a field day,” Renwick smirked, and then at the girl’s blank expression: “Twelve larger pieces. The rest are parts too miniscule to risk removing. He’s pocketed the shards as ‘souvenirs of the time he saved a Princess’. Which you didn’t tell us, by the way.”

“Oh does he ever stop,” Carena growled, and pulled her fellow Runner’s bag straps. “Come on, let’s go if we’re going.”

“Onward! Thanks for the assistance, Doc!”

“If you tell anyone else I’m a Princess I’m puttin’ all that shrapnel back ,” she threatened.

“Oooh, I’m quaking!”

It was only when they got outside the house that Carena realised the day was too quiet. The residents had stopped milling about, leaving various jobs around the farmstead half-abandoned. And there, clinging onto the gates-

Children. Filthy, hissing, angry children, armed with a nasty assortment of blades.

“Dr Renwick-“

The doctor had already slammed the door. She looked around desperately for the woman who’d brought them in, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“They’ve sold us out,” she cried. Joe swore.

“We’re surrounded, the way out is blocked. Any ideas, Nadia, Sam?”

One of the kids rattled the gates, lisp-singing through gap teeth. “Foxy-Loxy get out of den before I count to ten!”

“Not a bleeding chance,” Joe muttered. “Okay. Sam sees an exit on the other side of the settlement, but we’ll have to be quick. Nadia’s suggesting… oh, no way, I’m with Sam, I’m not throwing a grenade at the little shits, Nadi! Yes, I know they tried to kill me, but there’s a line!”

“Fort Canton, noble as ever,” Carena quipped.

“Shut up, you’d be the first to try and blow them up.”

She doesn’t bother denying it. “Okay. That exit.”

“He says it’s risky, but there’s a gap in their fence. Behind the toolshed. Run for it in three, two, one, NOW!”

For the second time in as many days, she ran for her life, the sound of childish war cries in her ears as Joe dragged her through the gap. Over the hill, rounding a corner, trying to find their way onto a trail.

“Barton Mound just cut their CCTV! Sam’s camera feed’s gone!”

“Check your four O’clock!”

He turned and fired, aiming to miss, to warn. “Behind you!” She did the same at her six.

“Ha-ha, you can’t get us, you can’t get us!”

“We’re going to get you!”

“That grenade is fast becomin’ a better option!” Carena yelled.

“An option neither of us will be able to live with! DUCK!”

A knife clipped her ear as it whizzed past. “Thirty-Seven, this is mental!”

“I’m on a lot of painkillers right now, Ten, and even I’m aware!”

“The two of us are the fastest Runners they got,” she reminded him as well as herself. “We can do this.”

They’d reached the bottom of the hill, and met a twisting country road with a few burnt-out cars. The pavement pushed back harder than the grass, giving her purchase, just like the track at home. Okay. She leant forward. Faster, faster, faster.

Then her lungs decided to freeze.

“Did we lose ‘em?” She asked, not daring to look behind her.

“Think we lost ‘em. There’s a back of a truck here where we can… Caz, your lips are blue. Caz?”

***

Someone pushed her inhaler into her mouth. She took a grateful puff of medicine.

“How many is it of the brown one, Dr Myers?” The boy said distantly. “Okay, got it.”

She found herself propped up in the back of a large truck, lit up by torchbeam. Above her, Joe’s moon-like face looked frightened. She’d never seen that expression on him before. Another puff.

“That’s it, Caz. Just keep breathing.” He gave a nervous chuckle. “Think you forgot how for a minute there.”

She reached out for his hand and squeezed his fingers, her own tinged with blue. Thank you.

“We’re only a few days out from London now, Dr Myers, it’s closer than home. We may as well finish the journey and head back in the convoy. Oh, Caz, she wants to know what you think. Can you talk?”

Carena nodded, taking a few more grateful gulps of air and finally grabbing her headset back.

“Dr Myers… Sam?”

“We’re both here,” Dr Myers replied, her tone flooded with relief. “How are you doing, Carena?”

“I’ve… been better. But Joe is right. We’ve visited… four out of the six settlements… and we know more about the militants now.”

“You’ve more than done enough,” Sam said gently. “Those children are better armed and more… persistent than we anticipated. We could send reinforcements-”

“It’s… faster for us to keep going... we’ll rest in London for a while. We can do it. We’re a good team, Joe and me. And two people can hide better.”

“If you’re sure. Joe’s injuries are susceptible to infection, and your asthma-”

“We can do this,” she said, determined not to wheeze. “We’re not going to let you down ‘cause of some kids.”

Sam sighed. “Cannibalistic kids! Sometimes, Maxie, I miss the zoms. Don’t you?”

“Can I... talk to Molly?” Carena asked over the sound of Dr Myers’ incredulous splutter.

“I’ll get her after school,” Sam promised. Carena closed her eyes. “She misses you.”

“I know.” The tight-closed truck, the pervading sweat and damp, the thought of the snarls on those faces. It’s all such a contrast to the homely atmosphere of Abel, fields and understanding and space to scream. A lump comes to her throat. “I miss her too.”

#zombies run #zr

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