After sending off the wire to Baron Wulfenbach and stopping back home to pick up a few things, Bookworm hurried off to the militia headquarters to check in with Captain Undertone. She blessed the long-ago caprice that had led her to learn Morse code and telegraph operation; it had come in handy during her long western America explorations, and thankfully, she still remembered it all.
The communications flew thick and fast between them through the morning, as plans and ideas were discussed. The wire that really gave her pause, though, was his decision to place her in charge of the militia during the crisis.
‘Me?’ she thought incredulously. ‘Why me? I’m not a captain, I’m not experienced–‘
‘You’re here,’ a part of her replied. ‘You’ve already been working on plans and organization. Why not continue?’
She sighed and looked around. ‘At least it’s keeping my mind off…other things.’
Early in the afternoon, she sent out a call to gather as many of the militia members as she good. Once they were there, she made sure they all understood what was going to happen–that Sunday would be the worst day; that some people would retain their mental faculties, while others would…not; that Mr. Mornington needed as many as possible gathered in one plce Sunday night to administer the cure.
“I think our goal tomorrow is to keep people safe,” she concluded. “To keep the sane one safe from the insane ones. And then, tomorrow night, to gather or drive as many as possible to wherever Mr. Mornington directs. I would ask that those of us who can, once we’re sure we’ll stay sane, to come here for final planning. I’ll meet you here.”
“It’s a long way to go to come here,” someone said.
“I know,” Bookworm replied. “But hopefully, the dangerous zombies won’t make it this far, especially as this isn’t a residential area. There shouldn’t be anything to attract them here.”
“What if *you* go insane?” another of the Militia asked.
Bookworm quailed inside, but answered stoutly, “Those of you who make it here will have to plan on your own. You can assess the situation, decide if you need to move elsewhere–address anything that needs it.”
She looked around, but there were no other questions. She quashed her own misgivings and fear, trying to look at them with confidence. “All right, then. Good luck to us all.”
She watched them leave. When she was alone, she sank down into the seat at Captain Undertone’s desk, putting her head in her hands for a moment. When Bookworm pulled away her hands, she saw her fingertips were dotted with blood.
“God help us all,” she murmured.
((I probably won’t be in-world until noonish SLT. Once I am, though, if anyone wants to do RPing with me, you’re welcome to. Otherwise, I’ll just sit there and work on other things. *grin*))