A Simple Plan.

I woke up Kat when I got back to Jill's office, and she could see that I was still a bit shaken up. I told her not to worry about it, that everything was fine and she settled back to sleep. But it wasseveral more hours before I could, even after writing that last post.

This morning started out like most others. We gathered in the Cyber Café for breakfast as we always do. Today, I offered to "make breakfast," which basically consists of reaching into the vending machine or refrigerator and getting out whatever anyone wants. The glass on the front of the vending machine didn't last long once it was discovered that we were going to stay here.

"I closed the door to the conference room downstairs last night," I presented to the room. I had realized that I needed to talk about what had happened and my feelings on it or the guilt would eat me alive. If it was a person, a real live person, in that conference room...

"Oh?" Bryan asked absently. I always wondered if Bryan paid attention to anything that happened around here. But then again, I wonderd that half the time long before the streets were filled with walkers.

So I told them the whole thing, how it moved around and I saw it, or at least part of it and how I locked it in there. "But, you know, what if it's not, you know... one of them. I mean, what if it's just someone--"

"Someone who hasn't come out of that room in what? What is it, eight days now? Well, six since we went down there, anyway." This was Gregg. "Come on, John. It's not possible. How could he--"

"Or she," interjected Elisabeth. "He could just as easily be a she."

Gregg turned on her. "You wanna argue about gender equality now, Lis? Come on! Jesus! Seriously, guys. I mean, come on, it's not possible that anyone could survive for eight, no even six days without--"

"The vending machines!" Everyone turned to Kat. She generally didn't say much at mealtimes anymore. She'd never been able to get a hold of her husband and had really quited down since then. Before all this shit went down, Kat was always laughing and cracking stupid jokes and singing '80s songs. Hell, she even had an inventory of her 700 different karaoke songs. But ever since, and especially since I'd heard from Lin; if you count understanding one word hearing from... "I totally forgot about the vending machines downstairs," she continued. "They have way more than we do up here. Someone should have plenty to eat if they are staying down there."

"But you guys went down there," said Sara. "To keep the doors locked. And I know Gregg has been down there since then and, I mean, why wouldn't he... or she, have called out or said something."

"Maybe they can't," I offered. "What if whoever it is is hurt or injured to where they can't talk and can-- look, I'm not saying it's likely, I'm just saying that it's bothering me not knowing. You know, not knowing for sure."

"You know, guys," Gregg said after a moment. "Even if Johnny-boy here is wrong and it is one of those things, well what an opportunity. I mean, come on, it's right under our noses all this time. If it's one of those... those... what did you call... oh yeah, streetwalkers, then, I mean, look at it. It's been down there, what, six, maybe eight days and it hasn't left that conference room?"

"That we know of," threw in Elisabeth.

"That we know of," Gregg conceded. "But we've been down there, and I'm telling you... you all saw this... those things swarm at us when they can see us. Damned near knocked the doors down trying to get at us. But that fella just stayed in there. Maybe knocked a few chairs over and stumbled around. He must be in pretty bad shape." And now he leaned forward and had a devilish grin on his face. "If we could get our hands on one of them then maybe we can figure out what the hell is going on out there!" He waved dramatically toward the windows where that green mist still hung in the air. He then leaned back dramatically and put his hands behind his heads. "And if it is someone alive, someone like us, we can see how good a medic Bryan really is."

"What? No, I mean, I took like one CRP training course," Bryan said looking around startled. "It was required for management. I'm not--" but then everyone broke out laughing; well everyone except for Mr. Cain. Even Kat cracked a smile at that one. It was good to see her acting a little more alive. Mr. Cain continued staring intently at his coffee. That was one thing we certainly had plenty of. Coffee and bottled water.

So it was settled then. Gregg decided that it was our duty, in the name of humanity and/or for the sake of science we needed to either rescue a wounded man or capture a live specimen. It's what I wanted, I guess, but it just feels kind of weird, now. Like Gregg turned it into some kind of a game. He was certainly prancing around the floor with a lot more animation than usual.

I was reading The Surrogates #1 again, trying to speculate where they may have been going with it, since it was likely never going to be finished now, when Gregg swung by. He swatted me casually on the top of my foot, which I had resting on the corner of my desk, and pointed at me. "We're heading down after lunch, big guy, to save your friend's life. It's you, me, Kat and Elisabeth on this one." And just like that, he was gone.

Bryan had either opted out again, or had not been invited. I don't honestly think he's left the floor since this whole thing went down. Knee surgery or no knee surgery, shouldn't he at least do something? Of course, Mr. Cain and Sara hadn't really contributed much either. Well, Sara contributed to the drama, so I guess she's got that going for her. Should look great on a resume.