<span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #FF0000">Joshua</span><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://i1156.photobucket.com/albums/p570/Aristophillia/d6f9a0f61b1fb6873f381f263fa77972_zpsfd59205a.jpg">[ img ]</a><br/><br/>8 months. It had been 8 months since the outbreak. 2 of which were spent in a settlement named "Samaritan".<span style="text-decoration: underline"> It was anything but.</span></div><br/><br/>The day had started just like any other day for Joshua. Wake up, get dressed, and eat a meager breakfast before grabbing his gear and heading towards the gates of the <span style="font-style: italic">community</span>. His job consisted of watching the perimeter and ensuring that no 'politicians', the undead he so aptly named, made it into the settlement. His time was mostly spent thinking of ways to escape. Everyday Joshua was here his debt rose higher and higher. <br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">The man was trapped</div><br/><br/>In the wee hours of the morning, before the sun even began to rise, one of the men on parole spotted a group of roamers headed for the east wall. While the size of the pack was nothing to be overly concerned about, they couldn't let it pile up for fear of a break in. A few were called to shoot into the crowd. Such few included Joshua: and once the group had been downed, the same few were sent out to scavange the bodies. It was amazing what kinds of things people had on them when they turned. <br/><br/><span style="color: #80BF40">"We have a survivor!!"</span> One guard called out as the body he was checking breathed shallow breaths of air. <span style="text-decoration: underline">The dead didn't breathe.</span> Joshua didn't get a look at the body before it was taken away, but he felt a twinge of regret for the poor soul. Regardless of how one came to be in such a situation, they didn't deserve a life of servitude.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">....................................</div><br/><br/>The rest of the day was uneventful for Joshua. He ate nothing for lunch and at 5:00 pm his shift was over. From there he went to the infirmary to check on their survivor. She was a pretty brunette, very skinny. Joshua wondered how she had managed to survive. Taking a look at her chart told Joshua that she was extremely malnurished and dehydrated. There was nothing indicating any entries of infection, but she had had a bullet removed from her shoulder. Joshua glanced once more at the girl, tubes coming in and out of her arms, blood and hydrants passing through them. He silently wondered how far this would put her in debt: not to mention the bullets they would inevitably charge her with, even though finding her had been an after thought.<br/><br/>Upon leaving her room, Joshua stumbled upon his sister, a firey redhead with an attitude to match. <span style="color: #FF0000">"We found another one today..."</span> His sister seemed upset at the news, but only gave a grim nod. With clean, white sheets in her arms, Joshua watched as she walked past the newcomer's room and into another. The man inhaled deaply before letting it out with a huff. <br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-decoration: underline">By the grimm look on his face and hard gaze (once thought to be kind), it was hard to believe he was only 24 years old.</span></div></span><br/><br/><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷</span></div><br/><br/><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #80FFFF">Aideen</span></span><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://i1156.photobucket.com/albums/p570/Aristophillia/images_zps09f9ddfe.jpg">[ img ]</a><br/><br/>Life was a living hell, but was it <span style="font-style: italic">really </span>worse than living on the outside?</div><br/><br/>That thought occured to Aideen every day. Everyday she had to tend to the sick. Every day she had only sparse amounts of bland food to keep her going. Every day she had to give herself away. Her debt only grew. Was the system rigged? You bet. Was Aideen determed to escape? More than you know. Did she have a plan? Well...not so much. Because of this, Aideen tried to rationalize staying. Freedom for security was an even trade. Right?<br/><br/>The majority of Aideen's days were spent doing laundry. There were a lot of "citizens" in Samaritan, thus a lot of laundry. Aideen, along with some of the other women, would wash sheets and pillow cases, rotating all the rooms so everyone got clean bedding every 4 days or so, before washing the Elite's clothing and gear, and finally everyone else's. The only exception to this rule were infirmary sheets which were changed out every other day.<br/><br/>Nobody enjoyed gathering the laundry, because it meant interacting with the elite, so every other day half of the women would wash while the other gathered and returned. Unfortunately, today wasn't Aideen's day to wash.<br/><br/><span style="color: #80FFFF">"Hello, Dr. Green."</span>The greeting was heavy with sarcastic joy. Aideen was known for not liking the Elite. The man simply pointed to the basket, his gear haphazardly thrown everywhere but inside of it. The girl huffed audibly, not hiding her frusteration, as she scooped his clothing into her own larger basket.<span style="color: #80FFFF">"It's always a <span style="font-style: italic">pleasure </span>speaking with you, Dr. Green."</span>In truth, Mr. Green was one of her favorites. He didn't talk to her, grab at her, he wouldn't leer in her direction, and he never tried to corner her. Dr. Green, in Aideen's opinion was one of the better ones. Often times she would see him lie about the recources patients used by under reporting.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">However, he was still apart of the system and Aideen hated him for that.</div><br/><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">....................................</div><br/><br/>Very little transpired during Aideen's work day. It was uneventful and for that, Aideen was grateful. Until she went to the infirmary where her older brother greeted her.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #FF0000">"We found another one today..."</span></div><br/><br/>Those words hit Aideen like a brick. A grimmace lined her smooth face and all Aideen could do was nod as she walked past her brother. She couldn't help but glance into the room he had exited from before entering the one next to it. While changing the empty bed, Aideen's thoughts went to what she had seen. A thin body, most likely a woman or prepubescent boy, hooked up to tubes and machines, and against her better judgement, Aideen entered the newcomer's room after she finished changing what rooms needed changed.<br/><br/>Aideen glanced at her chart, noting that Dr. Hemming signed it. He had a way of over reporting. The girl was pretty, which didn't help. Aideen wondered just how much of the recources had actually  been used on the girl.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">She looked young: no older than Aideen. Than again, this broken world had a way of aging people.</div>