Code Zulu Alpha: Nerd in the Apocalypse!

Obviously, the name "Robert" coming up randomly gave Oscar and me a small wrench on our plans but both of us kept a pretty solid poker face as we were thrown the question out of the blue. Furthermore, it's not like there was only a single "Robert" in the thousand or so people who used the airport as a place of refuge but coincidences like this do tend to raise a flag.

Manuel thought for a bit as he answered, "Umm~ Probably my height? 5'6''? Fair skin, keeps to himself, mostly, black eyes, black hair, fairly fit? 30-ish years old, works as a security detail—I'm not sure of his exact position—but he's in a management position of some sort too?"

'It's the guy, at least I think it's him…'

I replied with a small exhale, "Hmm… I'm not entirely sure but the survivors we rescued were all drugged out of their minds—I could maybe ask them after they detoxed but it's gonna take a while. What's your relationship with him, anyway?"

"I-It's nothing—"

Oscar cut in, "Nothing? You specifically asked for the guy, you should be at least friends with 'im or something…"

Cisco squinted at Oscar's response before he turned to Manuel, "That's enough. Did you really think they'd fall for that? Just be straight with them, there's no shame—"

"It's just—"

Oscar made a face, "Fall for what?"

Cisco shook his head lightly, "I'm sorry, Colonel, but we're already aware of the drugs and other stuff that got circulated around these parts. I'm not sure about your particular alignment on them, but even if they're regarded as harmful substances, there ARE great uses for them if applied responsibly."

I replied, "That is true but why are you looking for Robert specifically?"

Manuel replied, "We're actually looking for his stash, the main one or whatever's lying around. We have a few patients here—one of which is my Dad, he has Parkinson's and weed, I mean medical Marijuana tends to have a good effect on him. At least the kind Robert used to send over here. It's been a couple of months since we ran out so…"

Oscar interjected, "Huh. So this 'main' stash is in the Freeport Zone? Is that why you're so happy you sent a few groups in there?"

Cisco shook his head, "Among other things. But yeah, we're mostly hoping to have the stash to where he used to live but—"

I cut in, "Robert's dead. At least the one we think you're thinking of."

As soon as I said that, surprise flashed on Manuel's face but not on Cisco's. It brought the conversation to a halt for the moment but Manuel took the initiative to ask us of something again:

"I'd hate to ask this but have you found a stash or something of the sort in his room? Or anywhere else in the airport?"

I took a good look at him before I answered, "I'm gonna answer you honestly but I'm gonna need one thing in return."

Manuel took a good look at me as well before he nodded, "A-Anything, sir!"

Oscar chuckled, "Sir? You're the same age!"

Manuel shook his head, "D-Doesn't matter, Colonel. I'll call him anything he wants—"

I cut him off, "Okay~ Let's not get overly weird here but what I'm gonna ask you to do is be straight with me every step of the way. I'm good at reading people to an extent but I hate the fucking game that comes along with it. Do just that—even with just me—and I'll tell you what you need to hear. It's just… It's not gonna be all good news."

"Y-You found his stash?!"

"Not quite. We found 'A' stash, with tons of weed—not literally, of course—several pounds worth of them but upon closer inspection, a good number of them already had mold. It'll still get anyone high but not the good kind."

Cisco mentioned from the side, "You're awfully aware of its effects."

I simply chuckled, "I'm awfully aware of almost everything, unfortunately."

Cory, who has been listening the whole time finally spoke up:

"Wait a second, how would— Why is there a ton left? Is it just weed or—"

I replied, "Just weed. The kids I mentioned used almost everything else just to stave off hunger. I'm gonna assume you at least know of the effects of weed, no? It's bad to have them if you're trying to conserve food."

"H-Huh. Smart."

"A little extreme, but yeah. It's one way to extend your food consumption."

Cisco added, "It's gonna wreck your body though."

"Also true."

But yeah, as we continued our conversation, we then discovered a group wearing sports clothing making their way down the hill—with a smaller group trailing from behind—but as they drew closer, it seemed like they were also carrying a bunch of stuff made to make things harder for them.

Obviously, the younger and the fitter ones were at the forefront, racing for their lives, but they took a brief pause once they noticed our presence before moving on and running to Cisco for something:

"CISCO! STAMP! STAMP!"

"STAMP ME FIRST!"

"NO, ME!"

"FALL IN LINE, YOU FUCKS!"

"CISCO, STAMP!"

"STAMP PLEASE! POPS!"

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With that said, Cisco took out this stamp of sorts and this inkwell with the stamp pad from under the table before he smushed it at each of their foreheads. And as each forehead was stamped, the runners just quickly turned around and made their way back to where they came from because it was just a straight path to the GDMWC.

Oscar let out an approving look, "Training the younger ones, eh?"

Cisco nodded, "Yeah, my kid's the one with the parted haircut."

"Ohh~ The one who called you Pops?"

"That's right. He's Zack. They're plenty young but it's just inevitable at this point. He was supposed to be a doctor."

Osca and I looked at each other before I replied, "Umm… Isn't he in the right place then?"

"Ehh… Not quite."

"Hmm?"

"He fucking quit the moment he heard zombies. He's been training ever since… Haa…"

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