Detta stood there with Marcus outside the two isolation rooms. Their comrades crudely tied to their beds, laying in wait for the cruel moment of change to begin. Detta stood there almost as though without blinking. She didn't want them to suffer any longer than they had to. But she had to give them the chance to maybe not be infected. She might be ruthless, but she wasn't unjust. There was always a reason -- and she didn't have a reason to kill them yet. Marcus glanced over at Detta and then back at the room he guarded. The comrades in there -- no one deserved what they were going to have to face.<br/><br/>Detta was still covered in the thick layer of dirt, sweat and spattered blood from the fight. Those hazel-green eyes locked on the sight in front of her through those bars. When Pontius approached she glanced at him with just her eyes and looked down at the blade before turning her eyes to the barred windows.<br/><br/>"Marcus, take the blade and put it away."<br/><br/>"But Det--"<br/><br/>"Go!"<br/><br/>Marcus didn't say another word and would nod a 'thanks' to Pontius and take the blade. But before he left he glanced at Detta and then made eye contact with Pontius -- unspoken words lingering between them. And then he moved off toward the front door, pulling his goggles down to protect his eyes from the dust-haze, and left the infirmary.<br/><br/>"I'm fine, Ferrus," She said evenly as she moved slightly so she had a good view of both rooms. No one knew how long it was going to take. But when it wasn't instant, it could take several hours to a couple days to turn. It really just depended on the resilience of the person.<br/><br/>Detta's muscles flexed and stretched under the scars that wove up her body. She shifted her jaw slightly as she watched the two barred windows before her. She wasn't one to share easily. She wasn't one to do<em>anything</em>easily, really. Detta was the prime example of 'tough love' and 'do it the hard way'.<br/><br/>She was clearly not happy. Then again, lately, she wasn't happy.