When he woke up his neck was absolutely nightmarishly sore. He lifted his head with a muted groan, mouth opening to gasp as the needles and pins plunged through the base of his skull and down all the way through his shoulders. He'd be sore for days thanks to that little mistake. When he tried to shift further, the blanket caught his attention, and he squinted in confusion. He hadn't had a<i>blanket</i>. Where on earth had it--<br/><br/>His eyes turned to look to the bed, where Malia remained asleep, and he smiled wryly. The girl was absolutely dogged. Nothing could stop her from doing what she thought was right, even being freezing and homeless. He pushed the blanket down and set the binder aside to stand up, carefully stretching out his back and arms. Carson kept the grunts and sighs to himself, unwilling to disturb her, though he did carefully set the blanket across her lower half. He returned to his rations and pulled out an ancient protein bar, the faded wrapping of which identified it as a 'breakfast bar'. Chewy and tough, but suitably nourishing. He stepped outside as he ate and found a quiet corner to relieve himself in, then made his way to the medical building, still working on the bar as he went, and found the town physician was already awake.<br/><br/>He was an older fellow, someone who knew a fair bit of the world himself, and held no fear or resentment for Carson. "Ah, Master Strider," he greeted in a tired voice. "Come to aid in the autopsy?"<br/><br/>"I'm afraid not. I know how he died, sir--blade to the intestines. An autopsy isn't necessary." He pocketed the rest of his breakfast. "And please, just call me Carson. No need for formalities. I actually came because of something I overheard the late Oliver discussing with his sister before they ventured beyond the walls. Something about a boy named Thomas."<br/><br/>The doctor's face fell, and he shook his head. "Ah, yes. Thomas, the poor boy. Took ill with Plague. He's been quarantined for the time being, though as you know there's not much else we can do, short of burn his remains once it's run its course."<br/><br/>"Even so, I'd like to inspect him while he remains alive."<br/><br/>The doctor's eyebrows shot up, and he turned fully in his chair to face the Strider. "Do you have any idea what it is you're asking? What it means to even breathe the same air as him?"<br/><br/>"Yes, I do." Carson kept his tone level and cordial, though the doctor was beginning to irritate him. "The Plague isn't contracted through airborn pathogens--that is to say, breathing the same air as him is precisely as toxic as breathing the same air as you. The Plague is transmitted through ingestion--contaminated food and water, an open wound being exposed to the Plague directly, or if you like the more romantic notion, through kissing and intimacy in general. Now, I need to speak with him, and inspect him physically. And<i>you</i>should inspect the food and water stores to ensure that the town isn't on its way to a premature grave."<br/><br/>The doctor blinked several times, caught between surprise and frustration. Then he scoffed and shook his head a little, turning back to his desk to sip from a mug of black, dark coffee. "Never fails to amaze, what you lot know. I can't give you permission to enter quarantine. Only the mayor has that right. As for the checking--right, I'll do it. And you're sure of the blade on the boy?"<br/><br/>"I saw him die, doctor. Thank you for your time. I'll seek out the mayor." He turned and left, marching back to his shack, quick mind darting down half a dozen different paths.<i>Did the last man want to train Oliver by killing Malia--did he hire that Huntsman to kill her and instead it was Oliver--is this town already doomed--is Thomas already dead--am I going to die?--mother, I miss you.</i>He shook himself free of all the conflicting thoughts once more, using great effort to shrug aside and suppress the rampant emotions as he opened the door to his home and began to strap on his weapons and gear again, hardly glancing at the bed as he got ready for the new day.