Morning, Kramden Road
[ Ilsa normally walks to work, but this morning she gets as far as the end of the block before turning around and pelting back to 1490 Kramden. This may be the first time she's shouted in that battlefield bellow since she arrived in Mayfield. ]
PYRO! GET YOUR GEAR! WE GOT ZOMBIES!
Mid morning, 1490 Kramden
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Ilsa! It's me, open the door!
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IN.
[ There's a flare on the lawn as a zombie crosses the property line, and she bolts the door behind him. ]
You get bit? Any scratches?
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I- [huff] want to go help. [huff] But I need some equipment.
I can get possessions from the post office, right?
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I look at it this way. The more zombies we can destroy, the less people will suffer. If something happens to me, the worst case scenario is... I get bitten and infected and die and wake up in my bed sometime later. If it means fewer people have to go through that, I'll do it.
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Listen, if it means we might avoid watching one person- a child- get eaten alive, I'd do it a thousand times over. Besides, when it's all over I can reverse the exchange. That's the best part of the post office system.
Now, do you have any medical supplies or know anyone who does? I might need a pretty big patch-up job once I'm done at the post office.
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[ She grips him by the shoulders, and looks him in the eye. ]
Understand this. You might get the pack back, and might not be physically or mentally able to wield it. You still want to do this?
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Yes, I'm certain.
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Yes, I will help, even if it is madness. It's the kind of thing I'd do if I had anything missing that could help.
Idiot.
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Thank you. I'd appreciate it.
[At this point he's not going to admit that he might need someone there to hold his hand. He's a lot more scared than he's letting on.]
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