Judge me on lack of creativity, or whatever you want, but here's Dying Light Story Mode, with a twist.
Kyle Crane sat in the plane, jammed into the cargo hold with three big ass Antizin drops. His supervisor began speaking.
"HUD activated," she said over the radio, "Commence briefing." In the lower right hand side of Crane's flight visor came an altitude counter. It went up a little, then started to drop. His watch read 7:46.
"Approaching Harran," the pilot yelled to Crane.
"Data on the subject," the supervisor continued. "Kadir Suleiman. A local political figure hired to maintain order after the outbreak. His brother Hassan died in a disease related incident before we were able to evacuate him. Suleiman blamed the GRE for Hassan's death. He stole a highly sensitive file, which became a bargaining chip against the GRE, with instructions to publicize it if anything happened to him."
Crane stood up, straightened out his jeans, and approached the cargo door.
"Data on the subject, the stolen file."
"Drop in ten seconds!" the pilot called, and the door began opening.
"It details the incomplete process of synthesizing a cure for the virus. If implemented in its current state, the produced substance may be extremely toxic."
"Now!" the pilot shouted. Crane jogged forward and jumped from the plane while his radio kept on with its incessant yapping.
"And also," Crane's supervisor added, "the file contains a full description of the virion structure. Any attempt to use it would result in countless lives lost. It must be recovered."
Crane had fallen over 2000 feet already, but the air still seemed muggy.
"Further information, current status. Suleiman sent the file to an associate unknown to us-" Crane breached the cloud cover, and saw Harran. His altitude counter reached 2200, and he reached for his parachute pull. "-with instructions to publicize it at his command at any time. To counter that we instituted a city-wide communication jam, preventing him from publicizing the file. Your GRE-issued radio can overcome that jamming. It is your lifeline. Do not lose it. Suleiman has since gone underground and begun using a different name. We have reason to believe he now rules one of the two main factions operating within the city. You are to find Suleiman, and locate the stolen file in order to save mankind from a disaster of unprecedented proportions."
Crane's supervisor stopped speaking as he neared the city. He looked down and saw flaming cars, rubble, everything broken, and people. No, not people. Zombies. As Crane neared the street, he felt a gust of wind and his parachute reared backward. Instead of falling to the street, Crane's parachute snagged on a taller building and he found himself hanging several yards in the air. He knew he couldn't stay here, so he struggled with his harness, looking around for threats. Finally, his harness unbuckled and he was released, but he realized his mistake too late. He yelled as he fell to the asphalt, and the breath was knocked clean out of him as he hit the ground. He tried to stand several times while he regained his regular breathing, but he couldn't.
"I told you that wasn't a normal drop chute," an accented voice said, and Crane looked up. Three men stood above him, all dressed in loose gray clothes with boots and armor, all marked with the same yellow three-claw marking. Two of the men had masks on, but the one in the middle didn't. He was large, shaven-headed, and very intimidating, especially with the bloodstained crowbar hanging loosely from his hand. The one on the right held a cricket bat, and the left had a giant pipe wrench.
"Break his legs," the bald one said calmly. "Then take him to Rais."
But Crane had his breath back, now. He pushed himself to his feet and drew his 9mm, pointing it at each man.
"Back up! All of you!" All of the men put their hands up, and backed off a bit.
"Stop!" the bald one said. "Loud noises draw them!"
Crane became suddenly aware that the man wasn't panicked, and the other two were out of sight. He turned quickly, but instantly got a wrench to the face. His flight visor cracked and impeded his vision quite a bit. As he fell, blood and cracks scattered among the glass of his visor, the men began their original plan to break his legs, kicking and smashing with their weapons. The pain was much more intense than it should've been, and Crane realized it would be an easy task to break his legs, seeing as how they were already damaged from his fall. He grunted and yelled, then picked up his pistol and shot the man with the wrench, straight in the face. As he aimed the pistol alternately at the other two, he heard screams. The screams of, no doubt, the dead. Each one, though it was only an echo, seemed as though it was coming from right behind him.
"Fall back!" The bald man screamed, and sprinted away. "FALL BACK!"
One of the screams got louder and louder, and Crane forced himself to his battered knees. The scream came from right in front of him, past a burning car. Suddenly, out of the smoke materialized a zombie, sprinting at him as fast as any man could. It crossed the distance between them in only seconds, and dove at Crane. He put his left forearm up, but for easily the fourth time today, he realized he'd made a mistake. The zombie bit his arm, and he was vaguely aware that his watch said 8:00. His bloody vision blurred, and the zombie suddenly flew from his arm. A man appeared, and smashed the zombie a second, third, fourth, and fifth time with his black baseball bat.
"Come on!" he yelled, trying to help Crane to his feet. "We have to move!" Crane tried to stand, but couldn't. Off to the side, he saw a blurry shape running toward him, and another shape land on it. His vision cleared slightly, and Crane saw a woman stomp on a zombie's head. When it was dead, the woman raced over and helped the man drag Crane into a building full of bicycles. As they turned him and the man let go, he saw a horde of sprinters behind the man. The woman, now that Crane was on his weak feet, didn't have much trouble leading him to a rear door of the building.
"Get that door open!" the man yelled, and the woman kicked it open with a yell. The man stood in the other doorway, fending off the horde. Finally, with a massive scream, the man was pushed through the doorway and tackled by the horde.
"NOOOO!" the woman screamed, and her eyes teared up. She pulled Crane through the door, slammed it shut, and sobbed quietly while the man and the zombies screamed in a sick, clashing harmony. Finally, Crane gave in to his wounds. He collapsed, reaching for the woman in a silent plea for help. At first, Crane thought she might leave. He couldn't believe that such a pretty, kind-looking person would abandon him, but then she stopped and reached for her earpiece. "Tower! This is Jade. Get sickbay ready. Got a guy with a bad head wound, and a bite on one arm."
"Oh, shit!" said a man on her radio. "Amir's hurt?"
"No." Jade said, but it sounded more like a sob and less like a word. "Amir... Amir is gone. But I'm bringing in someone who might still survive."
"One of us?" the man said.
Jade looked at Crane intensely as his vision darkened. "We'll see," she said, and Crane's consciousness fled.
"You pinch him!"
"You're scared!"
"I'm not scared!"
"Then pinch him!"
Crane awoke to the sounds of children. He opened his eyes, then closed them again when the light overwhelmed him.
"He blinked!" the little girl yelled.
"What?" the boy whispered.
Crane opened his eyes again, but couldn't keep it up.
"He blinked again!" the little girl sounded more panicked now.
"What if he's a zombie?" the boy asked with more curiosity than fear.
Crane started to stand up, and the children screamed and ran off. He found himself in an old hotel room, with floral wallpaper and grimy floors. He still wore his blue jeans, gray shirt, and black shoes, tattered from the fall and the battle. His GRE radio was missing, his pistol was gone. He stood up fully now, and lost his balance. He groaned and caught himself on the top bunk, before his head cleared and he stood from the bed. Now that the fuzz was gone, Crane was aware of the pain.
"Oh, shit... my head." Crane looked around. There were clothes in the closet, tallies on the wall, and a window to Harran. Crane looked out and saw that he was at least fifteen floors up. He walked out the room, around a corner, and opened another door. Outside were the children, obviously waiting for him. They yelled again and ran, straight past a man in camouflage pants and a grey shirt. They peeked around the corner, then ran off. The man looked Crane up and down.
"You sleep for three days like a dead man, then wake up and scare children? Off to a great start, 31."
"Where am I?" Crane asked, already finished with jokes.
"In paradise," the man said, ignoring Crane's current lack of humor. "can't you see?" He gestured toward a grimy room with blood, several potted plants, a broken window, and a dirty chair. "Okay, enough joking around. Head to room 190." The man walked past and down the hall.
"What do you mean, '31'?"
"Ask the boss!" the man shot over his shoulder. Crane moved further into the room, and saw an 18 on the wall. He'd have to go up a floor to get to room 190. To the left, a woman answered his question.
"31. That's your number."
Crane approached her. "Excuse me?" he asked, with mounting confusion.
"Your number. You're the thirty-first infected." She gestured to herself. "I'm the eighteenth. Everything is counted here. One fewer doses of Antizin, one more infected. One more Runner gone."
Crane somehow knew that she meant Amir, the man who'd died saving him. Crane shook his head in self-disappointment and left the room, going down the hall toward what he hoped was the stairs.
"Amir died because of this guy?" a dark-skinned man said, stepping forward and pointing at Crane.
"Shh! Quiet." his companion said urgently.
"Oh, fuck quiet!" the man said. "Now he's going to get Amir's Antizin."
"You got a problem?" Crane said, stepping up close to the man. They were both unarmed, but Crane was GRE trained.
"No," the man said, noting Crane's easy stance and threatening gaze. "Just... Amir died saving you, is all."
"Yeah, I get that." Crane said with disgust. "I didn't ask anyone to save me. In fact, if they didn't, I'd have shot those infected down. Now, you've got a dead runner, another infected, one fewer dose of Antizin, and a missing firearm. Trust me, I was glad for the help, but he didn't have to get himself killed."
"Yeah," the man said cautiously, and Crane moved on. He walked up a flight of stairs and immediately saw room 190. For good measure, there was HEADQUARTERS painted on the wall next to it.
There was a man sitting outside, and Crane talked to him. "I'm looking for the 'boss.' Is he in there?"
"Oh," the man said. "You're 31. Go on in." Crane walked in, and saw the makings of a good headquarters. Blueprints, maps, and the news on the TV, still working somehow. Outside on the balcony was a man in a red shirt and loose gray pants with the kneepads so popular around here. He looked out at the city with binoculars. Crane opened the door, and tapped the man on the shoulder.
"Hey, I'm looking for th-" the man turned. But it wasn't a man. It was barely a boy, with wispy fuzz on his chin and welding goggles pushed up onto his head. "Are you the boss?" Crane asked skeptically.
"What, am I to young?" the boy asked with contempt. "You got a problem with my age?"
"No, I-" Crane stopped himself. "you wanted to talk to me?"
"That's better," the boy said. "Do you remember anything, know where you are?"
"Yeah, I can... I can see that this is some kind of shelter."
"We call it the Tower. Brecken and his Runners put it all together a couple of months ago, and we've been here ever since. Hunting airdrops, scavenging, and rescuing people."
"Yeah, I wanted to thank that girl."
"Good. Because if it wasn't for her, you'd already be chewing somebody's knee bone. Your Antizin was totally crushed, by the way. The only thing Jade could salvage was your radio." The kid picked up the GRE radio from next to him and jumped to sit on the railing of the balcony.
"Great. Uh, could I get that back please?" Crane asked, an annoyed warning in his voice.
"Actually," the kid said, unafraid, "I think I need it more than you do."
"Believe me, pal, that's not the case." The warning didn't leave Crane's voice.
The kid jumped down from the railing. "Fine. Take it." He shoved the radio into Crane's hands. "You know why Runners put their lives in danger?" the kid asked, walking inside. "For guys like you. So now you take the Antizin meant for someone else, and you won't even share your gear with us? I don't have time to deal with your bullshit. We've lost contact with one of our guys, thanks to the fucked up radios we're stuck with. Do something for me, will you? I don't want to see you, or your precious radio anymore. So, go be useful somewhere else. We don't tolerate lazy assholes here in the tower." The kid sat in a chair and looked at a blank monitor and some paper.
"Hey! Be fair, I- I'm not lazy, I just..." Crane touched the kid's shoulder. "'Boss'."
"Save it," the kid said. "That lost guy I mentioned, he's only on the 13th floor. But you might as well be trapped in a mine cave-in. Come back later." The kid scooted forward and started screwing with some radio. "And I'm not the boss," he added. "Too young, remember? I'm Rahim. Brecken's in charge here."
Crane left the room. "I'm not lazy, you little shit," he said to nobody. He walked to the end of the floor and found some elevators, and approached one. It had a man standing guard in front of it.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked.
"The 13th floor. I'm getting some stuff for Rahim."
"13?" the man asked. "Shit. That's gonna be some dirty work. But we all got to pull our weight around here, huh?"
Crane opened the elevator and hit thirteen, the only button that flickered with light. Somehow, though, the light was demonic, not hopeful. When he opened the door, he was a bloody, scratched, tattered room, with a baby carriage near the window.
"Jesus," Crane said. "How many people died here?" He approached the carriage, and looked in quickly. There was blood, looked like someone coughed it up, but nothing else. "Thank God." He turned toward an empty wheelchair and dialed on his radio.
When the static stopped, he spoke. "Crane here."
"Where were you?" his supervisor said. "We've been waiting for your report. It's been over 70 hours."
"Yeah, I lost my radio for a while," Crane reported, moving toward the window. "Don't worry; my cover's intact. No contact with the tower's leader yet, unable to confirm identity. Taking steps to blend in."
"Acknowledged," his supervisor replied. "Time is of the essence, Crane, remember that."
"There's one more thing," Crane added. "I- I got bitten. I've shown no symptoms, but the people here say I'm infected."
"Then you better get your hands on some Antizin ASAP-"
"HELP! HELP! SOMEBODY!" A man screamed from down the hall. Crane shut off his radio.
"What the hell...?" On the wheelchair was an old pipe with a spigot on it, and Crane picked it up. It was the only weapon in sight. Crane sprinted down the hall toward the sound of yelling and pounding. On the other side of the floor, he found a half-open door that seemed to be the source of all the racket. Crane kicked the door in, and saw a zombie pounding on a locked door to the right. He smashed the zombie's head with his pipe, and kicked out its knee. As it fell, he stepped in and smashed its head one more time with the pipe, and this time it caved. Finally, he opened the door. Inside was a bearded man, holding his wounded arm. He sat, leaned against a tub full of bloody water.
"Jesus. You, you alright, man?"
The man grunted and growled. "I... I cut my arm," he stammered. "getting away from him. Oh, God, you had to kill him, didn't you? God dammit! That was... that was my brother! I came down to see him and-"
"Easy, easy! It's alright now, I'll get help." Crane clicked on his Tower radio and spoke. "Rahim, this is Crane. I'm down on 13. This guy of yours got fucked up pretty bad getting away from a zombie."
"Oh, shit!" Rahim said. "31, you went after Mark? Is it... Is it safe down there?"
"Uh, it's safe enough, now."
"Okay, don't move. I'm sending Lena downstairs."
Crane leaned over and laid a hand on Mark's shoulder. "Hold still. Lena will be here any minute."
"Gauze," Mark groaned, shaking his head. "You got to find some gauze. And... and alcohol. Combine them. That'll stop the bleeding. Please hurry!"
"Alright, try to stay calm, okay? I'll be right back."
Crane began his search. He found duct tape and some miscellaneous metal parts such as wire and gears in the next room, then moved down the hall. In a room he found two toolboxes, one with duct tape and one with nails. There was also a refrigerator, which Crane, of course, found alcohol in. There was only one more room that Crane saw, on the other corner of 13. Inside were more toolboxes, with, yes, duct tape and metal parts. There was also a first aid kit in the bathroom, and Crane grabbed a roll of gauze and ran back to Mark. Once there, he soaked the gauze in alcohol and wrapped Mark's arm with it.
Finally, Lena burst in. "Okay, who's hurt?"
"He's bleeding pretty bad," Crane said.
"Let me see him," Lena said, crouching down. "Gauze and alcohol, huh? Pretty primitive, but it'll work." She checked his temperature, then examined the already blood-soaked wrap. "Thanks for the help. I'll take care of him from here."
Crane walked out and saw the elevator guard. "Well done, 31," he said.
The radio crackled, and Rahim spoke. "31! Not bad for a new guy. Perhaps I misjudged you."
"Hey, I just wanted to help out and repay you guys for what you did for me."
"Well, good. Come find me, and we'll talk about how you can do that."
Crane got back into the elevator and went up to the 19th floor, and went back into headquarters. There, he saw Rahim talking to a man in a yellow shirt and grey pants.
"All right, taken care of. Piece of cake. What else you got for me?"
"Well... let me think," Rahim said, and dismissed the yellow-clad man. From behind approached Jade, the one who saved his life.
"Rahim, you are just smart enough to be dangerous, you know that? Omar told me about your plans for the nest. Explosive charges? Really?"
"What?" Rahim argued. "Explosives? I never said that!"
"Oh, please." Jade was speaking before Rahim was even finished. "You can't tell a convincing lie to save your life."
"I know what I'm doing," Rahim said, trying to walk away.
"Yeah?" Jade caught his arm and pulled him back. "You think you can't die?"
"You're not my mom!" Rahim said, his voice rising in pitch and volume.
"No, I'm not. Our mom's dead. So you might want to be a little nicer to me since I'm the only family you have left. Especially now that Amir's gone." She added, almost as an afterthought.
As she left, Crane addressed her. "You're Jade, right?"
"Right," she said, stopping with the door half open.
"I just wanted to thank you for what you did for me, and tell you how sorry I am for your loss. I owe you and Amir my life."
"Yeah, you do." Jade seemed unsatisfied with the apology, and Crane completely understood. "You want to return the favor? Keep my dip-shit brother from killing himself." She almost left, then came back. "No explosives, Rahim."
Rahim waved her off and sat on a table, and Jade left.
"So..." Rahim said.
"So." Crane repeated, not wishing to hear some apology speech for the argument. "Was that enough? Do I get to talk to Brecken now?"
"First," Rahim said with slight disgust. "Go change your clothes. I left some new ones in your room. You're in 194."
"Something wrong with what I'm wearing?" Crane asked, now completely fed up with this kid's arrogance.
"You need something that fits the job Brecken wants you to do. Call me when you've changed."
Crane left headquarters, thoroughly annoyed, and found room 194. Tossed haphazardly onto an old mattress were some Runner's clothes. They consisted of gray pants, a yellow shirt, black kneepads, and some black combat boots. He slipped into the clothes and walked out.
"Okay, Rahim, I'm ready. Where do I find Brecken?"
"Not so fast, 31," Rahim said while Crane walked slowly toward the elevator. If you're gonna earn your keep, we've gotta find out if you've got the skills. So get your ass up to the gym."
"Gym?" Crane asked, unbelieving. No way they had a gym in this dump. "What are you talking about?"
"It's on the top floor," Rahim said, suddenly cheery. "Just a couple flights up!" Crane found the stairs and walked up, until he found a door. When he opened it, he found himself on the roof. There was scaffolding all over the place, and a pile of black and blue trash bags to the right. Rahim was nowhere in sight.
"Rahim? I don't see you. Where are you?"
Rahim answered instantly. "Close." Well to the right, a construction crane started swinging. Crane ran over to it, and just missed a falling air duct. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get over here!" Rahim said, and Crane saw some scaffolding with paint on it. He guessed that was what he was supposed to climb, so he did. It led to the roof, which led straight to the crane. He climbed onto the crane and immediately felt disoriented. It was a long way down if he lost his balance.
"You ought to feel right at home!" Rahim laughed over the radio. Crane guessed he could see him. "A Crane, on a crane!"
Crane ran across the crane, partly because he realized it wasn't that narrow and partly because he wanted to get across quickly. he reached the controls and found Rahim still there. "Welcome to our gym," Rahim said, gesturing to the rooftops, where the construction area and some yellow paint made for a great parkour arena. "First thing's first, you've got to learn how to run."
"What do you mean, 'learn how to run'?"
"Just do what I say, all right? Now, jump down to the very bottom." Rahim pointed down, where the building wasn't complete and there was no roof. It was at least a hundred feet down, and all Crane saw waiting for him was construction garbage and some small mattresses and pillows.
"What are you, nuts?! I'd kill myself!" Crane said, almost laughing.
"Don't be a wimp," Rahim said, and walked around Crane to a spot without a railing.
"Oh, come on, you can't be serious!" Crane said, now seriously concerned.
The kid put on a little smirk, and stepped up to the edge of the crane. "Watch this." Without waiting another heartbeat, Rahim dove from the crane.
"Woohooo!" he yelled on the way down. He landed with a rustle and a crash, and started screaming a different tune. Crane would've been smug had he not been worried for Rahim's safety. "Aggghh! Aaahhh!"
"RAHIM!" Crane yelled.
"My LEG!"
"Jesus, DON'T MOVE! I'LL GET HELP!"
"Ha!" Rahim said from below, and now Crane could see he was standing and walking fine. "I was just fucking with you!"
"Oh, son of a BITCH!"
"What? You can't take a joke? Come on, get your ass down here!"
"Christ on a crutch," Crane muttered to himself. Finally, he jumped. The wind whistled past his ears, and he noticed the painful lack of a parachute on his back. Finally, he hit, back first, onto a mattress and some surprisingly soft garbage. "Holy shit!" Crane said as he realized he was alive and unharmed. Then he realized the thrill he'd just had, and he said it again.
"It's a rush isn't it?" Rahim said from behind. Crane turned and saw him in a doorway that would never be filled by a door. "Don't blow your load yet. There's more. To survive outside, you gotta take advantage of your terrain. Most eaters suck at climbing, so the harder the terrain is, the better for you. I've got some typical situations set up for you. Let's see how you handle them."
Rahim took off running through the construction, and Crane chased him as if it was a game. "Sometimes," Rahim shouted back as he slid under a haphazard crawl space, "it's better to duck through the low, narrow passage ways. The eaters'll have a hard time following you." Crane ducked under the space, then jumped over a broken wall, still hot on Rahim's tail. Through another doorway was a flight of stairs, half of which was collapsed. Rahim slowed, turned, and jumped, but Crane's GRE training took over and he handled it without losing momentum. He ran straight up to the wall, jumped, kicked off, and landed on his feet at the top of the stairs, just as Rahim started running again. He went out onto some scaffolding, hanging out over the city several hundred feet, and jumped to something Crane couldn't see. Crane chased him, jumped from the scaffolding, kicked off the wall of the Tower, and landed on the other side within arm's reach of Rahim.
"Not bad," Rahim said. "For a noob!"
Now Crane found himself in an unfinished elevator, with a hole to the next floor painted yellow. He jumped to it and climbed up just behind Rahim, frustratingly close but never passing him. Now Rahim and Crane jumped up onto some broken building framework, and jumped to some wood attached to the wall.
"My favorite," Rahim said to Crane, just to his left. "Cat grab, and muscle up. You won't survive outside for ten minutes if you can't do that." Rahim climbed to a higher ledge, scooted along it, and jumped to a third. Finally, he jumped to the next floor, and turned to find Crane racing past him.
"All right, superstar. Get back to the crane!" Rahim yelled behind Crane. "Make use of anything and everything to get there." Crane jumped far, caught some sandbags, and climbed up. He turned right and jumped again, then raced to the crane, less than a second ahead of Rahim.
"You've got some serious natural talent, man. Either that or you've done this before. You done this before?"
"Hardly," Crane said. "Closest thing I ever came to this was running track in high school."
"Well then you're a fucking prodigy. Never seen anything like it." Rahim climbed up onto the arm of the crane and ran across, arms out to the sides for balance or some shit. Crane let him go, thought he'd give him a head start this time. Then Crane climbed the crane. As soon as he passed the edge of the Tower, and saw the drop, his vision went green, yellow, and red. He suddenly felt massively exhausted, huge pains stemming from his left arm and shooting to his head, and his knees felt like they would give any moment.
"What- what's HAPPENING to me?! Shit... shit! ARGH! SHIT!"
"Crane?" Rahim's voice sounded beyond the ringing in Crane's ears, and he tried to listen. "Talk to me! What's going on?"
"Something..." Crane stammered, trying to find words through the haze and struggling to speak them through the pain. "went... wrong! Rahim, what just happened to me?"
Crane tried not to look down, but somehow his eyes fell anyway. His eyes fell, out of his skull and past the crane. He saw the Tower flash past, saw himself in the third person, losing his balance on the crane. He saw the ground, approaching at a massive speed, and suddenly he was back in his body again, just in time to straighten and regain his balance. "Fuck!" Crane said to himself. "'Don't look down' is the best advice I ever heard!"
Then his other senses went into overdrive. He smelled the burning cars and the rotting dead, far, far below, heard the growls and crackles and even voices in the tower. He tasted Rahim's blood, just across the crane, and, strangely, he enjoyed it. He felt his fingers tearing into human flesh, and he saw a flash, a vision.
Crane sprinted through the city, growling like an animal. He could smell the men, hear them, taste them. He leaped onto a rooftop and looked down, saw the little bastard who'd chosen to go off on his own. He reached forward with his massive claws, and tentacles sprang forth to envelope the man. Now, entangled, the fuck could do nothing to save his hide as Crane tore him apart and strung him across the city. But it wasn't Crane. Crane was still in training, with Rahim. No, this wasn't-
"Yes..." the zombie said in Crane's mind. "Yes. This is you. This is what will happen to you, if- WHEN you run out of Antizin. Oh, yes. I was once a Runner like you. I was the best. Then, trying to save some bitch's sorry ass from the Virals, I got devoured. And from the pools of blood and bones I emerged like the Phoenix of legend, only much, much more powerful. When the Volatiles sleep, I take their place. I am the Hunter, and you will become me."
"No!" Crane shouted. "NO! I won't be you. I'll KILL you."
"What, again? You already caused my death once, Crane. I won't let it happen again."
"Wait-" Crane wasn't so defiant now. "Amir? It can't be!"
"Ta-ta, Crane. See you when the sun goes down. In fact, that'll be in just a few minutes. Best get back into the tower. Good night, Crane. Good luck."
"Oh, shit!" Rahim was saying. "I bet you're having your first seizure. Just get back over here!"
Crane ran the rest of the way across the crane and dropped to the roof door to the Tower. Rahim was there waiting for him.
"Rahim what the fuck was that?! Does this mean I'm... turning?"
"Most likely no," Rahim reassured him. "Seizures remind you that you're infected. You better go see Dr. Zere, though. He'll check you out, probably give you a shot of Antizin. Before you head out to see Zere, talk to the quartermaster. He'll gear you up so you can go outside without getting your head bitten off. And get some sleep. The sun'll set soon, and you don't want to be out there when it does."
Crane found the elevator, everything still sort of a blur. Once he was on the ground floor, he visited the quartermaster.
"Oh, you're the new scout," the quartermaster said. "Rahim radioed me about you."
"Yeah, that's me, name's Crane."
"I'm not gonna bother learning your name till you've survived a few days, but here. This is for you." He handed Crane an old table leg with nails in it, a perfect shitty addition to his shitty pipe. "By the way, word around the Tower is, you're just another deadbeat in line for food or Antizin. By which I mean, the people here don't much like you. But don't blame them. It's easy to get paranoid when you're isolated. And since somebody's jamming communications to the outside, there's plenty of paranoia to go around. Whole damn city with nobody to call for help but ourselves. You bring me supplies from the air drops, though, and you'll see people change their tunes in a hurry. That shit's a game-changer."
"Thanks," Crane said. "Is there anything else? I'm in a bit of a rush."
"Also," the quartermaster said, "if you're looking to get more popular, try helping folks. Do a few favors, they might like you more, eh? You might even find a woman. Keep you warm at night." The quartermaster chuckled, and gestured to a box off to one side. "There's some more in there if you need it. Don't take it all, though, that's a community chest, for all the Runners." Inside the box Crane found a lot of shit, so he took what he needed. He grabbed a rusty old pipe wrench, probably from the guy he'd shot when he parachuted in, a box of paper clips bent like lockpicks, a box of metal parts, and a first aid kit with a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and a roll of gauze. The classic field kit.
"Now," the quartermaster said as Crane closed the box. "Go sleep. There's a spare mattress in the next room, just get up in the morning so you can go out for your mission."
Crane went into the next room and laid on the mattress, and had a perfect angle to see onto one of the taller rooftops. The sky got darker, and Crane realized he hadn't tried to sleep yet. Before he could roll over, though, he saw the silhouette of a beast. A hunched humanoid, with spikes on his back and tentacles from his claws. Amir, the Hunter. Inside the silhouette, though, there stood one detail Crane could see, clear as day. Two small orange circles, glowing through the darkness like fire. As soon as Crane made eye contact, he found himself drowning in that fire, surrounded by terror and death and rape and chaos. Then, gasping for escape, he was suddenly back in the grimy mattress, safe inside the Tower. The cold silhouette still stalked him outside. Then he heard a laugh, a terrible, screeching, growling laugh that was filled with the very same terror as the fire eyes had been. The silhouette suddenly jumped from the rooftop, and disappeared within the dark city. And Crane heard that taunt again...
Good night, Crane. Good luck.
