By the time Louie and Teresa arrived back at the Med Wing, it seemed a full riot had broken out. In the center of the area, two nurses and three guards where struggling with someone, trying to calm them and get them back into bed. Teresa saw the struggle and scrambled to help the other nurses. Louie kept her pace and by the time she reached the hospital bed, the leader of the newcomers was back in his bed, held down by two very large guards.

"Let go of me!"

The leader apparently refused to give up trying, even though he had no chance of getting free.

Louie stepped up to his bed and took a minute to check his chart. Giving him time to settle down and realize she was the one he had asked for.

"Hey! You gotta let me go! Tell these mammoths to let go of me!" He tried again to wiggle free, but to no avail.

Louie didn't respond and looked over his chart one more time. By the time she had mindlessly scanned his paperwork a third time, it seemed all energy had drained out of him. When Louie looked up, his head was resting against his pillows and his shoulders were slumped.

Louie nodded to the three guards, who then released their grip on the man's shoulders. Louie turned as they left and said a quiet thank you. The leader saw an opening. When Louie turned back, he had sat back up in his bed and was once again attempting to grab his shoes and make a run for the gates.

Louie quickly and deftly struck right at the base of his head at the top of his neck, and sent him crumpling to the floor. The blow wiped him out for good. He lay on the floor for a moment, breathing hard. While he recovered himself Louie surveyed the other occupants of the Med Wing, her arms behind her, her back straight.

After a few moments, the young man finally pushed himself up and sat back down on his bed. Louie stared at him intently, waiting for him regain enough strength so they could engage in an actual conversation.

Louie broke the silence first, once the man had sat up straight and stared back at her.

"I hope we understand each other now."

She gave him a quick, small smile. If he had blinked at the wrong moment, he might have missed it entirely.

The leader smirked and looked off to the side. Louie stayed determined to keep this conversation professional and informative. She was fine letting this man and his group come and stay in the Compound, but not until she had a real sense of who these people were.

"I would suggest you stay in bed for several days. Any attempt to escape again will be met with similar, if not more, hostility. Plus, it would be bad for your health. You've sustained a horrible concussion, four broken ribs, and near starvation. Your body is unable to handle much at this time."

The leader refused to speak. He just stared at Louie, looking her up and down, trying to get a read on her. Louie prided her self on her poker face and put into play now.

"Now, I believe you were asking for me," Louie said.

The comment threw the leader a bit.

"I asked for the man in charge."

"I can see your concussion must have made you rather confused. I am the man in charge. I happen to be a woman, but that doesn't change my role. Now, what did you want?"

The leader took a second to gather his wits. Louie was sure he would have been much more suave without a concussion and so allowed the awkward silence that fell between them.

"Information." He finally responded.

"Good. So do I." Louie said.

She remained where she was, arms clasped behind her, face tight, shoulders straight. She did not budge or give any indication of speaking next. This wasn't her first interrogation. The leader started to stir in his bed when she didn't talk.

"What is this place?" He finally managed to ask.

"The Compound. Where are you from?" Louie replied.

"What's the Compound?"

"I'm afraid that's not how it works. You ask a question and I will answer it, but only if you return the same courtesy."

The leader paused before answering, apparently trying to decide whether or not to argue her point.

"A refugee camp in the southern part of Canada. Now," He emphasized his last word a little too hard, "What's the Compound?"

"The Compound is a safe haven established almost 20 years ago to protect its inhabitants from the outside world and the Crawlers. It was formed from a storage warehouse. How did you make it here alive?"

"I'm not stupid, I've lived the majority of my life on the Outside. It doesn't scare me. Are my people allowed to stay for good? Will they be safe?"

"Yes. But you didn't answer my question." Louie replied.

The leader smirked again. "Trade secrets. Can't tell. What's your name?"

His question threw Louie, but she pushed through and refused to let it show on her face.

"Louie Garcia. And yours?"

"Peyton Jones."

After a short interview lasting only a few more minutes, Louie left Peyton to his breakfast. Louie went to find Teresa to check on the status of the other newcomers. When she reached Teresa's office, she went to knock on the door but saw that it was already slightly ajar. Voices emanated from within. Louie quietly pushed it opened and found Ryland leaning against the desk, speaking down to Teresa in her office chair.

"Come on, Teresa. You have to know something. The whole compound is brimming with curiosity. I need to tell them something, anything." Ryland was leaning a little to close to Teresa for Louie's liking.

"I can't, Ryland. Strict orders passed down from Chief. No one is to know anything until the council knows everything and is sure that our safety remains intact. Besides, I don't really know anything." Teresa said.

"Oh, come on. Just a little something. Some sort of information to keep the masses calm and happy. Do it for me."

Ryland smiled and winked down at Teresa. Her cheeks suddenly went red and she turned her face away. Louie saw her cue to enter the scene.

She cleared her throat louder than was necessary. Ryland jumped from his seat and spun around faster than a jack rabbit on speed. Teresa's eyes shot up to Louie's face and her eyes went wide. Louie gave her a quick reassuring smile then turned her glare on Ryland.

"Ryland, you know, as well as I do, as well as Teresa does, that the newcomers are not to be a topic of discussion."

Ryland took a deep breath when he saw that it was only Louie but his shoulders stayed tense despite his best efforts.

"Geez, Lou, I'm just trying to figure out what the heck has been going on. The Compound's been running mad with rumors since this morning. We have to let the people know something."

Ryland seemed to be the only person in the whole place who would dare talk to Louie so casually.

"You aren't running a newspaper, Ry," Louie said. "The people will know what's going on when the Chief decides it's the right time. In the meantime, you can reassure everyone that we are safe. The Council has it under control. And as a fellow member of said Council, I would advise you to hold yourself to a higher standard and don't use your charm so freely. Especially not to garner prohibited information."

Ryland blushed ever so slightly, enough that it made him turn, say farewell to Teresa, nod to Louie and head out the door.

Teresa started to say something in her defense in the whole manner, but Louie saw no need to correct someone who had done no wrong. Instead, she asked after the patients before Teresa had the chance to speak, thus the subject of her loyalty was dropped.

******************

Louie soon found herself heading back into the Cage. It was empty this time and her destination was located in the furthest corner of the area. She knew the sound of her boots smacking against the concrete floor, reverberating throughout the room, would announce her arrival but she still lightly knocked on the office door. When a deep voice called out, "Come in," from the other side, she turned the knob and entered.

The small room contained only the essentials, a small bookcase stuffed to capacity, a makeshift desk and two chairs placed on either side.

"Hey, Chief," Louie said, as she slipped into the chair nearest her and across the desk from the Compound leader.

"Good morning, Elouise. How are things in the Med Wing this morning?"

The Chief looked up from the stack of papers he held in his hand. He placed them down on the desk in front of him and placed his reading glasses beside them. Louie tried not to react to the use of her real name. No matter how many times she asked Chief, begged him, not to use it, he still refused.

"Things are going good. All the new comers are healing and getting well rested. Already, from the few interactions I've had with various members of the group, I believe most of them will assimilate into the community quite nicely."

Chief raised his eyebrows and asked, "Most?"

Louie cleared her throat, then continued speaking,

"We're having some trouble keeping the leader in bed. He has refused care several times and took three guards to pin him down and keep him from running straight out the front gate."

"Hmm. Interesting."

Chief sat back in his seat and stroked his thickening beard, thinking.

"What were you able to learn from him?" he asked.

"Only the bare minimum. They're from a refugee camp in Canada, just south of what's left of Quebec. They are the only survivors. Their camp was attacked a few weeks ago and they barely escaped with their lives."

Chief's eyes grew dark, his eyebrows dropped, the news heavy on his shoulders.

"Did he say anything about how they were even able to make it here? About how they knew about us?" Chief asked.

"He refused to say anything about their trek. And was extremely vague about his knowledge of our whereabouts, saying something about hearing it through the grapevine." Louie said.

"From your conversation with him, what was your read on him? Is he trustworthy?"

Louie paused to think the question over. Peyton had an attitude, certainly. And major problems with authority. He was smart, capable, able to survive outside. But trustworthy?

"Yes. I think he is. He's withholding major information, information that we will need to know eventually. He's said he has lived on the Outside for a long time. If that's really true he must know something more about the Crawlers. He lead nine other civilians through the Outside, kept them alive and safe. If he can teach us how to do the same, I say he's at least worth giving a chance."

Chief stared her down. He knew Louie's logic was undeniable but as the leader, he needed to make the decision his own.

"Very well. Assimilate him into the community, let him get to know who we are, what we are all about. Make him start to trust us. And once he does, use that trust to gain the information we need. If he's withholding information that could help protect us then we need to know what that is."

"Yes, sir," Louie replied. "What would you suggest is our next step?"

"Make him rest and heal up. Then Show him around the Compound. Personally."

Louie gave the Chief a short, curt nod, then stood up and headed back towards the door.

Next, Louie went about her rounds, going through every department of the Compound and checking the status of things. After leaving the Cage, she felt compelled to check back up on Peyton, make sure he hadn't escaped. But she knew he needed rest and that Teresa would keep a sharp eye on him.

Once out the Cage, she headed first for the security wing. A wide area of desks and tables, topped with computers, weapons and maps made up the section closest to the gates. This was of course on purpose.

This was where the Searchers could be found when on duty, and where Marc reigned supreme. Walking past a row of computers, all displaying various shots of the grounds, and the men who sat monitoring them, Louie reached the main desk.

Behind a U-shaped table stood Marc, the tall black man dominating the room with his booming voice. Once a few underlings had received their instructions, Louie took a step closer and stood in front of Marc. With her hand clasped behind her back, she surveyed the area, taking in the moving people dressed in the all black uniform of the Searchers.

"Status report," Louie said.

"Things are running smoothly here, ma'am. There's a team of searchers out now checking the southern region of the perimeter. I thought it best to revisit where we found the newcomers this morning in case we find anyone else who might have been with them or any personal items they might have left behind." Marc said.

When he spoke with Louie, his stance mimed hers. Even with the fifteen year age gap, Marc did a good job of showing respect to his superior.

"Good thinking. When will they be returning?" Louie asked.

"Within the hour," Marc said.

"Alert me of any news they bring with them immediately." Louie turned and walked back out of the area.

Marc replied, saying to her back, "Will do, ma'am."

Louis paused, and turned back.

"I need two guards stationed at the bedside of someone in the Med Wing."

"Yes, Ma'am. Right away. Where will they be stationed?" Marc asked.

"Tell them their charge is Peyton Jones, the leader of the Newcomers. And warn them, he's set on escaping somehow. They'll need to keep a close eye on him."

"Will do."

And with that, Marc turned to two of his men and sent them straight to the Med Wing. And Louie proceeded with her rounds.

**********************

The next few days followed along in the same manner. Everyday included a stop at the Med Wing and a brief interaction with Peyton. Every time they spoke, he seemed more and more resigned to staying where he was and healing instead of making every attempt to try and escape.

It helped that Marc had taken Louie's instructions seriously and placed two of the largest, most menacing Searchers on his security detail. Each time Louie came by to see him, he seemed more and more comfortable with her role of authority. Louie knew it helped him see that she really was the boss and that she didn't take any crap from anybody. Least of all him.

The arrival of the newcomers set the Compound on edge. Every meeting Louie had with the heads of the different departments lasted twenty minutes when they should have just lasted five.

Housing wanted to know how soon the newcomers would be needing beds. Sanitary made it very clear that there were several positions open on their staff and that they could use the help of the newcomers. Culinary questioned how it would affect food rations. And Storage was just curious who these people were.

Over and over again, Louie had to answer the same questions with minimal responses. The Council had yet to make a formal announcement, and as the face of the leadership staff, naturally everyone looked to Louie for answers.

Ryland was not helping the situation. He seemed almost determined to make Louie's job harder by spreading rumors, stirring up the crowds, asking the wrong questions. It took a major load off of Louie's shoulders once the council released their statement regarding the newcomers.

It was a brief, formal statement released two days after the newcomers were found. It stated that the newcomers are to be welcomed into the community, that everyone should go out of their way to make them feel at home. And that they were certain that the Compound and its occupants were safe and free from any new harm.

Below the notice were the bunk and department assignments. A few were assigned to Culinary, two to Sanitation, three to Storage and two to Med Wing. Louie recognized the names of the youngest survivor and the oldest joining the med team. Louie guessed that was an intended blessing since both newcomers were the worst for wear out of the group and still needed time to heal. She couldn't see either of them fit for duty quite as soon as the rest. Especially since the rest of the newcomers would be expected to begin their new jobs within the week.

Louie noticed Peyton's name, down at the very bottom of the list. His assignment and bunk number were different from the rest. He was given a bunk in the Cage nearby where Louie slept and his assignment was to Private Security. Since no such department had ever existed with that title, Louie guessed that the Council made up such a name specifically for Peyton's sole purpose.

On the fifth day after the arrival of the Newcomers, Louie headed straight for the Med Wing after breakfast to begin her task. When she entered the area and walked up to Peyton's bed, she found him sitting up, his legs dangling off the side of his bed. He was arguing with the guards. Louie wasn't very surprised.

"Look, I'm fine. Even the head nurse said so," Peyton said. "Why wouldn't you let me leave already? I can't stay here."

Before either of the guards had the chance to respond, Louie spoke, "You are now free to leave the Med wing, Peyton. But I'm afraid you can't leave the Compound."

"And why not?' Peyton asked, turning his head to face Louie.

"For one, your health. And another, your safety. Now if you would please follow me." Louie turned to head out.

Peyton stood up off his bed but didn't go anywhere.

"I need my bag," he said.

Louie sighed and turned back.

"As I've said before, you can't have your bag. We can certainly grab you your old shoes and clothes if you wish, but you'll be given a new set today."

"I don't care about the clothes. I just need my bag."

"We can't do that."

"Why not?" Peyton almost yelled.

"You have enough weapons in that bag to supply a small army. You are dead set against staying here, and have already proven that you are willing to do anything to escape. Now, why on earth would I give someone like you your bag back?"

Peyton shook his head, and rubbed his forehead, frustrated.

"I don't care about the weapons. Take them if you want. I just need my bag."

Louie paused before responding, staring Peyton down, making sure it wasn't a trick. The last few days may have helped heal his ribs and his concussion, but he was still worn out and depleted of all energy. Louie didn't see the same fight in his eyes she had seen the first day. She turned to one of the guards and said, "Please go and grab Mr. Jones's bag from the office."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. And now would you please follow me?"

"Why?"

"You're now our head security consultant. You've been assigned to me."

****************

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