EXTINCTION EVENT

chapter eleven: rat in a cage

[ season 1, episode 4; not fade away ]

DAY 13

At 8:30AM on their ninth day inside the Safe Zone, Katie and Heather Darcy waited patiently outside the Clark family household for someone to respond to their knocking.

Against all odds, they'd managed to mingle fairly well after the dinner, Heather and Meghan getting along with Alicia, Ofelia, and Chris, while Madison had grown to tolerate her and Katie's presences.

It was helped along by Katie's appearance the morning after the dinner, armed with an assortment of muffins as apology that she'd made for the large family. She'd spent half the night digging through their house attempting to find anything remotely edible to make for them as part of her peace offering, and eventually uncovered the muffin mix, which was found shoved in one of the lower shelves of the pantry. Bless the Wallers and their lack of cleanliness when preparing their home to be used as an AirBnB; it was coming in handy more often than not.

There was also the fact that Katie was willing to head over and help out Madison with chores around the house — beggars couldn't be choosers, and Madison was running the affairs of nine people in a two bedroom household. Safe to say, she needed all the help she could get.

Still, Meghan had been avoiding the eldest Clark sibling, Nick, ever since they arrived. Even Hallmark didn't sell cards for, "hey, sorry for hitting you with my car when you were coming off a bad-trip-that-wasn't-actually-a bad-trip-just-the-first-sign-of-the-impending-apocalypse." So instead, she hung back with Holly, waiting for them to come out when they were finished collecting the other girls for their ration trip.

After her next knocks went unanswered, Heather tried the doorknob, stepping in when it turned without issue. She turned back to her mother, and shrugged before entering the Clark residence. Katie carefully maneuvered through the now-open door, balancing her two steaming coffee mugs as she passed her daughter, not wanting to spill their contents.

Once in the entryway, the sound of raised voices reached their ears, catching snippets of the Clark mother's sharp tone and Travis' puzzled replies, becoming clearer as they neared the kitchen. "Is this about Liza?" he asked just as they rounded the corner, standing in the archway. He appeared confused in his sweat-stained tee, possibly just returning from his morning run. Madison, on the other hand, appeared a bit frazzled, dressed for work in a simple pair of dark pants and a grey long-sleeved, tired eyes boring a hole into her partner. Alicia hovered nearby, watching the dispute with thinly veiled irritation. The group hadn't noticed their arrival, too caught up in their argument, and it felt rude to cut in.

It felt far more awkward to simply stand there and listen, however, but it seemed they had little choice in the matter.

"What?" a look of incredulousness crossed the blonde's face as she leaned back against the sink, and followed it with a snappish reply. "No, it's about you."

"Me?"

"Yeah," Madison gestured off towards the open door leading to the garage with her free hand, "you run off to play man of the people—"

"I'm not playing—" Travis argued.

Madison continued, ignoring him, "—with your soldier friends—"

"Just stop talking," Alicia's irritated voice cut in, though it went ignored by the two adults.

"This is not easy," Travis insisted.

"—and I could use a little bit of help here," Madison finished angrily.

Ofelia filtered in behind them, sending them a thin smile as they awkwardly continued to listen in on the argument, standing in the entryway as Alicia finally intervened.

"Katie's been helping!" Travis finally raised his voice.

"She shouldn't have to, you're supposed to be here with me!" Madison matched his volume, yelling back.

"Stop, stop, oh my God, just stop it!" the teen gesticulated, stepping forward between the two. Surprisingly, Madison and Travis quieted. "This domestic bickering like it's normal. Like we're normal people in a normal kitchen. It's not normal," Alicia snapped out. "Stop it, stop acting like it is."

Madison seemed ready to speak, but whatever she had to say died on her tongue as she finally noticed the group watching. When a look of subtle embarrassment crossed Travis' face as well, Alicia finally turned to see what her parents were looking at.

The group stood for a moment, feeling very much like exhibits at a zoo the way the Clarks stared, neither side knowing how to alleviate the tension.

Ofelia was the one to speak first. She lifted her arms up in a half shrug, her expression tightly neutral. "You ready to go?" she asked, with a light, upbeat tone that had to be forced.

Alicia's eyes flitted down, and she responded with a muttered, "Please," starting to follow her as she left.

As she brought up the back, Heather shot her mother a look, mouthing, 'Awkward,' as she followed the two older girls out.

As the door closed behind them, Madison pushed herself off the counter, grabbing a dish cloth and tossing it in one of the lower cabinet, crouching down to hunt within its contents, turning her back pointedly to her partner. The message was clear; this conversation is over.

Travis evidently read the situation the same as Katie, and left without saying anything, only giving Katie a small nod of acknowledgment on his way out.

Katie shifted in place, still in the entryway as she waited for Madison to recognize her presence. Unlike Travis, she wasn't leaving that easily.

Finally, Madison glanced over her shoulder. "Here to clock in?" she bit out, pleasant as ever.

"Good morning to you, too," Katie didn't rise to her barb, only raising her eyebrows at the woman's obvious bait, raising up one of the steaming mugs in her hand. "Thought you might need coffee, so I brought you a cup."

The promise of caffeine seemed to break Madison out of her funk, and she stood up, finally turning to Katie with a twitch of irony on her lips. "Got anything stronger?"

Katie gave a brief shake of her head and held out the cup. "Going once, going twice..."

Madison gratefully accepted the mug and took a sip, eyes widening slightly. "Thought you were trying to kick the caffeine habit," she referenced an offhand comment Katie had made a few days ago at the first taste of her drink, a rich hazelnut.

Katie laughed to herself and gave a light shake of her head. "There's no way I'm getting through this mess on fucking decaf," she responded under her breath before taking the first sip out of her own cup.

Madison seemed taken-aback by Katie's words, having never heard that kind of language slip past the other mother's carefully poised exterior. Then, she laughed aloud.

✖  ✖  ✖

"Hey," Meghan greeted the three girls as they left the Clark residence.

"Hey," Alicia responded. Something Meghan had noticed was that the arrival of a deadly outbreak hadn't yet seemed to faze the Californian teen, who took every opportunity to dress up. Today, she had donned a pale blue shirt, a silky navy-and-pink bomber jacket with an interesting floral pattern across the chest, a geometric print skirt, tan boots, and a collection of bracelets on both wrists.

It was rather dressy in comparison to Meghan's own attire; a simple pair of dark jeans, a dark blue henley tank top with a tribal pattern faded over years of use and re-use, an olive green canvas utility jacket she'd brought from back home in Vermont, and her usual boots. In all honesty, she wanted to be ready to run at a moment's notice — but that sense of urgency wasn't something that many others in the neighborhood seemed to possess. 

Beside her, Ofelia smiled, sending Meghan a friendly wave, dark hair bouncing as she descended the steps.

She tugged at the bottom of her white tank top, emblazoned with a decal of a tie-dyed tiger across her chest, and Meghan guessed it was probably not her first choice of what to wear that morning. After being forced to escape her home the night the lights went out, Ofelia's family had moved in with the Clarks. As a consequence, she'd had to share clothes with Alicia, who possessed a decidedly more alternative aesthetic than Ofelia, the quintessential girl next door when it came to personal style. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, you?"

"We're ready," Alicia confirmed, then glanced back towards the house. "Just so you know, our house isn't No Man's Land. You can wait inside next time."

"I don't want to push my luck," Meghan said evasively.

"Yeah, Mum's already on that for you," Heather said cheerily, the tails of her jean jacket swinging from where she'd tied it around her waist as she skipped along.

Alicia puffed out a laugh at Heather's blasé attitude. "Think they killed each other back there?" she asked darkly.

"They're like two magnets with the same pole," Heather skipped ahead before twisting to face them, walking backwards ahead of the group so she could continue the conversation. "Opposites attract, likes repel. They couldn't get close enough to kill."

Ofelia's gaze drifted towards Heather's swinging arms, and her bandaged right hand. Her mouth twisted into a sympathetic pout as she nodded down. "Is your hand any better, Heather?"

"Hurts sometimes when I overuse it," the girl shrugged. "Most of the time it's fine. Not 100%, obviously, but I can deal. Liza says it'll be healed within a couple weeks, anyway."

"It's good Liza's here," Ofelia expressed her gratitude towards the nurse. "I don't know what my family would have done without her. She's done so much for my mother, even without antibiotics available to help her."

"How'd it get hurt again?" Alicia interjected, blue eyes narrowed. "You said you cut it on something?"

Meghan's fingers involuntarily dug into the rope handle of Holly's leash, and she bit her cheek to keep quiet.

After the military had arrived in force to secure their section of El Sereno, putting up the fence and carting off the man who'd had contact with the infected they witnessed their first morning, Katie had sat the two girls down and laid out their story. How they got there (took a plane, then drove a rental car), why they were there (Meghan had a car accident and they flew over to make sure everything was okay), where they were the day the lights went out (Meghan's dorm, they'd left early that morning and spent the rest of the day at the rental house), and if they had any contact with the infected (they hadn't; were they the people from the leaked footage?).

From Meghan's perspective, it was reasonable to lie to the military — they were always going to put the needs of the many over the needs of the few, and they couldn't risk getting their family separated because they'd been 'exposed' to the infected. They submitted to the daily health screenings and showed no symptoms, plus the general consensus seemed to be that the disease was transmitted through bites, so she doubted they were putting anyone in real danger.

Apparently, they weren't the only ones who thought this way.

None of the Darcys had said anything, but they'd been to the Clarks house, and there was a fresh grave in the backyard, as well as some discoloration by the patio doors that Madison seemed hellbent on repainting, over and over and over.

Then at the dinner, Nick had effectively outed everyone there as having knowledge of the infected. However, since then they'd hardly spoken about it, and when they had, it was only through allusions.

Officially, none of the families had any contact with the infected. And that's how it would stay. Maintaining plausible deniability was more important than swapping war stories in an attempt to connect.

Heather nodded. "Broke a dish," she said, twisting back around to fall in step with the others. "Cut myself trying to pick up one of the bigger pieces. That was right before the feds moved in, when we first arrived here from the city."

"It's good you got out," Alicia noted, and her expression darkened, her voice dropping an octave. "A lot of people didn't."

Meghan had the sinking feeling Alicia was talking about someone in particular, but decided not to press. She wasn't as close with the girl as her sister was, and besides, if Alicia really wanted to talk about it, she would.

Soon enough, they arrived at the supply drop. The girls took their place in line, Alicia taking her place in front, Meghan coming up close behind her, and Ofelia bringing up the rear.

Already, the line stretched out to the length of the two military jeeps parked alongside it, and was patrolled by armed soldiers, clad in their fatigues, bulletproof vests, matching tan armor and helmets with attached visors. They seemed more suited to the front lines than to crowd control.

In this world, though, where one infected can turn a crowd in minutes, is there really a difference between the two? Meghan thought, and briefly scanned the crowd for the telltale signs of early infection.

Georgie had become pallid, with red rimmed eyes and a cough, before she turned. She didn't notice anyone quite as sickly among them, but she couldn't account for everyone. While most were dressed normally, others donned medical face masks and protective gear. One family ahead of them had donned matching yellow plastic ponchos.

"Anyone else feeling underdressed?" Heather muttered, earning a stifled laugh from Alicia and a disapproving look from Meghan, who was busy attempting to suppress her own smirk.

People in the Safe Zone were aware that there was a virus, but with how tight-lipped the military had been, they'd been largely left to their own devices to figure out what it was, and how it transferred.

For the Darcys, there wasn't much need for protective masks at this point. If it was an airborne transmission, they were already infected. And considering Meghan didn't have an overwhelming urge to start gnawing at the neighbors like a starved dog, she felt rather safe in saying she was out of the woods in that regard.

In her peripheral vision, Meghan caught a glimpse of movement as a soldier mounted the back of one of the parked trucks, and she turned to get a better look. It was Lieutenant Moyers — their self-proclaimed guardian angel, as he humbly let them know the first day she received rations, and the commanding officer of the unit that patrolled their Safe Zone.

It seemed like they'd arrived right in time for rush hour, and his daily announcements, which he enjoyed about as much as she did. Goody.

"Alright, listen up here, folks," Moyers climbed up fully into the truck, projecting his voice across the crowd. "As commanding officer of this detachment," he started a confident strut back and forth along the truck, turning as he spoke to address the people gathered. "I am proud to announce that we are infect-free for a six mile radius around this perimeter."

Meghan's eyes flitted briefly to meet her sisters own dubious look. LA was the largest city in the state, as well as the most populated. How much of a dent did six miles make?

Oblivious to the two girls restless thoughts, he continued. "We are on the offensive. The tide has most definitely turned." Moyers' proud declaration was met with scattered applause — not the standing ovation he seemed to be hoping for. While Travis was the only civilian Meghan knew of that had actually gotten close with the soldiers, it was easy enough to tell what kind of guy Moyers was — born and bred military, boastful, arrogant, thought himself above dealing with civilians like them, and a total hard-ass.

Her mother hadn't trusted him since the minute she laid eyes on him.

Switching tactics, he moved onto the next order of business. "Alright, command asked that I read from the following." he bent to fetch a brown clipboard, the attached contents of which ruffled slightly as he lifted it up to read in a careless monotone. "'Be advised, the DZ remains off-limits while hazmat teams dispose of any bio-hazardous material'."

To this, a woman spoke up roughly, her voice peaked in concern. "What bio-hazardous material?"

Looking briefly over to her, he pointed down at his clipboard. "Hey, I'm supposed to read this, you're supposed to listen, okay?"

Taking advantage of the break in pace, another man spoke up, causing the girls' heads to swivel towards the newest speaker. "When will you get the phones up?"

At this, Alicia and Ofelia seemed suspicious, their eyes narrowed before their attention was once again caught by Moyers. So it wasn't just her mother who had noticed the military's unfulfilled promises and dodgy behavior.

At this, Moyers simply continued his recital, ignoring the man who had just spoken. "Anyone attempting to compromise or circumvent the perimeter of this camp will be detained."

"Are we being relocated?"

"Sir, this is a secure position," he opened his arms to gesture broadly before dropping them once more as he went back to skimming his clipboard. "So no, you're gonna stay put."

Around them, the crowd began to mutter, angry at Moyers' clear disrespect for their concerns. Meghan jolted despite herself as someone knocked hard into her shoulder, pushing past her to crowd closer around the military Jeep. If the commanding officer was concerned, he didn't show it, simply continuing to read off their instructions. "Curfew will remain in effect until further notice. The new health screening policy will continue. Sanitation, water treatment, and other services will return as we approach total containment."

Total containment? Meghan thought incredulously. They boasted about clearing out six miles as if it was an accomplishment. How on earth was that anywhere close to what they needed to contain this thing?

Beside her, Ofelia broke in. "Sir?" she called out, brow pinched in concern as she briefly paused to scan the crowd. "We need medicine, what about that?"

"We are working on that," Moyers dismissed her without so much as a glance and continued reading off his pre-written speech. "So keep boiling that water, you will also find several iodine tablets in your weekly rations." In her opinion, he was starting to sound every bit a satire of 1940s war effort propaganda — at this rate, she wouldn't be surprised if he encouraged them to start victory gardens.

A man pointed at the fence, and shouted, "Where are the people outside the fence, where did you move them?" the crowd murmured in agreement as he continued to yell. "Where, where?"

At this, Moyers finally put down his clipboard, his tone finally dropping the false-cheery monotone and revealing something more sincere — annoyance. "Alright. Folks, listen." He took a breath, and Mr. Nice Guy was back, though it sounded far more sarcastic than it was when he was busy reading off from his list. "You are in one of twelve safe zones south of the San Gabriels, okay? So you guys are the lucky ones!"

Throughout his speech, the line had kept moving, and Meghan found herself and her group moved up by the soldiers, beside the emergency water barrels. It was almost their turn in line to receive rations, but it was hard to pay attention while Moyers kept prattling on.

"You guys — you get to stay in your homes, ride this thing out." Despite his encouraging words, Alicia looked dubious, and based on a quick glance around, Meghan could see it was a sentiment shared by many others within the neighborhood. "So relax, count your blessings, be nice." He dropped his hands triumphantly, then added, almost under his breath, "So I don't have to shoot you."

Meghan's blood ran cold. Did he seriously just say that?

Aboard the truck, Moyers gave a sharp grin, then added a self-assured, "Yeah," as if to affirm his previous statement.

Despite his joking manner, Meghan had an uneasy feeling that his comment about shooting them was the only part of his speech that was truly genuine. From the shared glance between the four girls, she could tell she wasn't the only one unnerved.

She was overreacting. It was more than likely a sarcastic reaction to what he considered to be insubordinate or ungrateful behavior on their part rather than an actual threat. Harsh language was commonplace enough for training in any area of the military, and if he was more used to dealing with fellow officers and cadets than civilians, it would make sense that he came across more crass.

Ahead of her, Alicia's attention was diverted away from the lieutenant. "What's your name, miss?" one of the fully armored soldiers asked her.

"Uh, Alicia Clark," she responded, still distracted by Moyers' words.

"Oh, Clark, yeah, right here," The soldier affirmed before handing her the Clark family share of the rations.

Once the girl had stepped aside, Meghan stepped forward, followed closely by Heather and Holly, who was busy snuffling along the ground.

"Meghan and Heather Darcy," Meghan said politely, and gave a small smile as one of the soldiers bent down to greet the attention seeking diva that was their dog, nuzzling up shamelessly to the armored man's leg.

What a brat. Mum had warned them against getting too friendly with the soldiers, and here Holly was, ready to pull a Lassie Come Home for one of the men she'd spent less than ten minutes with, Benedict Arnold that she was.

The other soldier, scoffing in amusement at the scene, scanned the list. "Yep, got you right here," he said, before turning to hand them the supplies.

"Thank you, have a good day," Meghan thanked them, grabbing the supplies out from under her sister, who sent her a miffed look.

Meghan shot her a saccharine smile, tossing her the leash as she scooped the rations into their bag. Heather still wasn't supposed to strain her hand too much, they didn't want it to split open again. That said, she still made it a point to try and help out, even where she was expressly forbidden.

As the girls went to stand beside Alicia, Ofelia approached the soldiers, beaming. "Hi."

The soldier — Adams, his name tag said — stared her up and down for a moment, then gave what he probably thought was a debonair smile. "Hi."

Ofelia giggled — giggled — at the soldier's action despite herself. "Ofelia Salazar," she recited, watching as the soldier barely glanced down at the list.

"Oh, could you spell that for me?" he requested.

"S-A-L-A...you're not even looking," she trailed off into a laugh, smile stretching from ear to ear as her eyes creased.

He looked down at his clipboard again. "Oh."

Adams was someone her mother would describe as a meat-and-potatoes type of guy. Unpretentious, down-to-earth, and completely head-over-heels for one Ofelia Salazar, whose name he definitely knew how to spell. In fact, he probably wrote her name dotted with hearts on the same clipboard he was reading off of, or tried variations of their names together.

Ofelia Adams. Ofelia Salazar-Adams. Maybe Andrew Salazar, if he was the progressive type, which she doubted.

Alicia gave Ofelia a smirk, sharing a knowing side-eye with Heather, then Meghan. A smirk tugged at the corner of Meghan's lips as she attempted to stifle it, glancing down and away. It felt awkward to intrude on the moment between them, but it was good to see Ofelia happy. Still, the whole thing felt a bit forced, especially on Ofelia's side. She never spoke about Adams when they weren't going to grab rations, and sometimes when they headed off for their private trysts, Ofelia seemed...reluctant. She'd used Meghan as an excuse a couple times now as a way to avoid them when the soldier hung around after grabbing rations, claiming they had plans, even when they didn't. It was odd behavior, but Meghan hadn't pressed her on her reasoning.

It didn't matter. It wasn't her business, anyway.

"Yeah, no, here it is," Adams finally finished his ruse, crossing off the young woman's name. "Um, Ofelia." The woman in question giggled again.

Behind them, Moyers called out to a familiar face in the crowd. "Mr. Manawa!"

Meghan and Heather turned to see as Travis raised his hand, poking his head out, face creased in concern to see what the officer wanted. "Yes, sir?"

"A word, please," Moyers responded, glancing at the mass of people gathered before heading off, waving Travis after him.

The blue-eyed girl watched as the two men began down the street, previous amusement wiped from her face.

Heather noticed the teen's concern, and caught her attention. "He'll be fine," she spoke. "It's like your mom said, he loves this man-of-the-people crap."

Alicia gave a vague nod as indication she'd heard the younger teen, face unreadable as they watched him go.

"Have a nice day," Adams said as Ofelia wrapped up her interaction with her paramour.

"Yeah, you too," Ofelia smiled back, picking up her rations as she headed off, a swing in her otherwise composed step.

Alicia grabbed her own set of rations as Ofelia stepped ahead of her, ready to leave alongside the two girls.

They'd heard enough.

The walk back home was quiet. Alicia seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, unwilling to make conversation past monosyllabic responses, and Ofelia had waved them goodbye as she snuck off with Adams a block away from the Clarks.

Heather led the pack with Holly, while Alicia and Meghan brought up the rear. For her part, she wasn't bothered by the silence, her mind was always busy enough that she never had the luxury of boredom.

Specifically, she kept turning over Ofelia's words from that morning, playing over and over in her head on loop. Antibiotics. Her mother needed antibiotics.

Oh. Oh. That must be why she was busy canoodling with the soldier — she needed treatment for her mother, and this was the best way she could think of to do so.

The idea made her uncomfortable as she thought about what she would do, were she in Ofelia's shoes. Would she be willing to go that far to save her family?

Yes, she thought immediately. Of course she would. You do anything for family, anything to protect them.

Oh yeah? A taunting voice spoke up in the back of her mind. Then why did you screw them over back at the dorm?

She winced as she remembered. She'd been beating herself up for that one since the night it happened.

Heather's fire axe was a good start, but it wasn't a ranged weapon. Guns would be preferable, but in their absence, a crossbow was a very good alternative.

And she left it in her closet, gathering dust.

Alicia cut into the backyard of the Clarks, while Heather continued on ahead to their own house. Meghan stood stock still in the driveway, canvas bag full of their rations still swinging gently from her former momentum.

There was a bike there. A pink banana-seat bike whose floral pattern and style looked more reminiscent of a young girl's sixth birthday party present than the property of the alternative teenager who it supposedly belonged to.

Still, it was a bike. It was wheels.

Her mind raced. It was about 9AM now, which meant the Guard would still be focused on ration delivery until 10, meaning they'd only have about one patrol out currently.

The military had cleared out up to six miles away.

She only needed five.

Meghan called back Heather. "Hey, could you grab this?"

Heather turned, confused. "What?"

Meghan lifted the bag. "I'm not going home right away, I think I'm gonna go help Mum with chores at the Clarks. You mind bringing this back for me?"

Heather shrugged, "Sure," then reached out for the bag with her injured hand.

Meghan drew the bag back and sent her a firm look. Heather groaned, then swapped Holly's leash to her bandaged hand, and took the bag with raised eyebrows. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic," she responded. "I'll catch up with you later."

"Alright," Heather agreed. "See you."

As soon as her sister crested the hill and was finally out of her line of sight, Meghan took the bike, and left.

✖  ✖  ✖

We've finally caught up to where the canon episodes are, so some of what you'll see in the following chapters will include plots that were part of the main show. However, I do prefer to write out my own scenes rather than retread episodes play-by-play, so there will still be a lot of original content!

Let me know you guys think of the burgeoning Clark-Salazar-Darcy alliance, I'd be curious to hear your takes. Also, what do you all think Meghan is up to? 🤔