Countryside near Villedor, formerly Lyon, Central France, 2036, 15 years after the Fall
Aiden Caldwell, Pilgrim 'Roamer and Long Walker'
"Oh shit!" The trip to the communications tower had taken about nine hours, two days after Aiden had met up with Spike, the two of them spending the intervening day clearing the interior and exterior of the wall of vines and other vegetation that might assist someone climbing over.
The trip had been fairly uneventful, Aiden skirting around to the North of the small Old World village that was about 5 km from the new Outpost, though he'd found a fishing lake at the bottom of a small waterfall that he'd decided to check out and that'd slowed him down to the point it was almost dusk when he reached the tower's base.
The abundance of fishing rods, tackle and other items would be incredibly useful for the new Outpost, so he'd report that when he could. But as Aiden threw himself backwards to avoid the cartwheeling leap of a volatile that seemed to have moved into the tower since Spike had left, he was starting to think that was an 'if' he managed to report in.
The snarling and laboured breathing had given the volatile away even as Aiden approached the tower, though it had in turn spotted him from the upper window of the broadcast station it had been hiding in. He'd dealt with this type of volatile before though, and knew that isolating it was the key to wearing it down, the half a dozen Biters slowly lurching towards him serving as both meat shields and jumping platforms for the Volatile.
Slipping past the Volatile as it shrieked its failed attack to the darkening sky, Aiden smashed his spade edge first into the nearest Biter's neck. Rotten flesh gave way easily under the freshly sharpened spade, and though the one armed attack wasn't sufficient to completely separate the spinal cord, it didn't have to be as the Biter collapsed like a sack of rats under its own weight.
His second blow wasn't nearly as precise, striking an outstretched arm as it attempted to grab him, shattering the Biter's forearm as Aiden dodged back from a third Biter as it shambled near attempting to bite him. It took two blows to the injured Biter's skull to bring it down, Aiden tripping the third Biter as he shifted away from its attempts to bite him, a well placed stomp as it flailed ending its undeath.
All of this took place in approximately six or seven seconds, leaving Aiden with a lot less to worry about as he shifted back to face the Volatile. Thankfully, it's acrobatics seemed to take a lot out of the Leaper and it always took the time pause between attacks, so even as it leapt up onto one of the outbuildings he was moving away from it and the remaining Biters.
It jumped down onto the shoulders of one of the Biters with remarkable accuracy given the shambling thing's gait, catapulting itself in Aiden's direction even as the Biter it had jumped on collapsed to the floor under the unexpected weight and imparted momentum.
"Oh no you don't you bastard, not this time." The Volatile had gotten a good strike on Aiden's arm when it first appeared, and despite the layer of leather that he'd turned into something of a forearm guard it had scored a trio of long gashes down his arm.
Rolling to the left, Aiden jumped to his feet as the Volatile slammed into the maintenance shed door he'd backed into, dazing it even as he brought the spade round in a vicious low swing. Volatiles were tougher and less decrepit than the standard Biters, so even a shot to the head or the neck might not be sufficient to bring it down before it recovered.
The knee joint on the thing's right leg was an excellent tactical choice for him, cartilage and bone shattering under the blow, though unfortunately for Aiden the spade's shaft also snapped under the abuse he'd put it through. This left the spade 'blade' buried in the Volatile's leg as it hopped away shrieking loud enough to wake the dead, its manoeuvrability greatly reduced.
Armed with the equivalent of a long wooden stake now, Aiden used a Biter's shambling charge to his advantage as he drove the point into the thing's gaping and partially unhinged jaw, then up into the thing's brain through the roof of the mouth. This left three Biters and the now injured Volatile against Aiden who was left with the hatchet and a pair of kitchen knives he had stashed in his backpack.
Grabbing the hatchet from the loop on his waist, Aiden took a moment to remove and place the plastic edge guard into his pocket; it was too damn useful to risk losing in the undergrowth.
"Right, round two… here we go." Cricking his neck, as the roll had strained it slightly, Aiden couldn't help but smile slightly as the adrenaline rushed through him.
While he wasn't one of those blood-mad zealots that had arisen in the initial aftermath of The Fall, throwing themselves into combat with the infected at any given opportunity, the chance to get back at those he had spent years cowering and running from wasn't something he'd miss.
The Volatile shrieked again as it dislodged the spade with one of it's clawed arms, it's injured leg almost collapsing as it attempted to run in his direction, leaving instead to do a similar ambling walk to the Biters as he charged forwards.
The nearest Biter was much fresher than the others in this little group, dressed in scavenger clothing that, while faded with time and use, wasn't the sun-damaged rags the other Biters wore. Chances were this was the reason the Volatile had come up here, probably scavenging in the village and left it too late in the day to try and leave for safety.
As the fresh Biter reached for him, Aiden lashed out with a kick that caught her in the stomach, sending her staggering back and allowing him to focus on the other two Biters. The hatchet had a shorter reach than the spade had, so Aiden had to get closer than he'd normally like, using his free hand to bat aside a clawing arm and close to land a killing blow.
Slamming into the Biter's face just below their eye socket, the sharp edge of the hatchet slicing flesh and snapping bone, Aiden did his best to ignore the spray of blackened blood and brain matter that splattered his clothes. He'd have to head back to the fishing lake in the morning to clean off and wash his clothes.
Remembering a lesson from a trader he'd travelled with for a week between Luxembourg and Belgium, Aiden reversed his grip on the hatchet as he moved towards the last standing Biter. Now, instead of the sharpened edge, the hatchet was used more as an improvised weighted club, the flat end of the steel blade taking the Biter on the chin with enough force to knock it's head back with a snap as at least two teeth popped from its mouth.
While it wouldn't be as dangerous as a purpose built hammer or mace, this would help protect the blade edge from taking too much damage and still have enough weight behind it to be a useful weapon. Blood singing in his ears now, Aiden shifted into something of a frenzy as he felled the remaining Biters, the hacking and slashing merging into a chaotic mess of memories he struggled to separate even a minute after he finished, standing over the Volatile's almost bisected remains and heaving in gulps of air like he had just finished a full on escape from a Volatile Horde.
Despite his muscles screaming at him, Aiden knew it wasn't anytime to rest. Given Spike had been here approximately three weeks beforehand, the chances were the batteries and the solar panels were still functioning okay, but the sooner he checked the better. Heading to the generator shed, it took a couple of good yanks to raise the door, something he'd look at in the morning. Though the diesel generator inside would have long since run dry as the stocks of remaining diesel fuel degraded over time, Aiden found the series of batteries connected to the solar panels on the roof of the building exactly where Spike had said it would be.
It wasn't anything fancy, a dozen car batteries connected together, but it was better than nothing. It was disconnected from the wiring that led up the wall and out through a small hole towards the communications tower building, a common practice that was used to allow the wiring slack in case of weather and prevent battery degradation over time.
Or protect it from an angry bouncing Volatile, Aiden thought a little bitterly as he dragged the wire down from where it had risen halfway up the wall, checking the wiring and the connection for damage. The connector was damaged on the wiring side, a sign that it had been yanked from its socket either in a rush or inadvertently. Drawing one of the kitchen knives from his backpack, Aiden separated the connector from the damaged wiring and set it to one side, though he had to use the hatchet to slice off the damaged wiring.
There was enough wiring for the connector to still reach the battery system, though it took several attempts for Aiden to feed the wiring back into the connector, his hands shaking as his body struggled to deal with the remaining Adrenaline in his body from the fight. After a few agonising minutes, the connector was ready and he plugged it in with a small sigh of relief, the only things that should be on are the UV lights in whatever safe room is set up and the power to the transmitter it…
Hearing a radio or something suddenly start broadcasting some music of all things, Aiden rushed back outside, only stopping to close the door to the maintenance shed behind him. It wasn't even 'recent music', it honestly sounded like something from the 60's or 70's that some of the truly ancient survivors liked to play on wind up vinyl players.
Switching off every light switch in the place as he manoeuvred through the communication tower, Aiden suddenly heard the same high-pitched screeching off in the distance. It was hard to determine exactly where, as the sound echoed in the near silent forest, but it wasn't hard to imagine more volatiles incoming if he couldn't shut the lights off and power off the radio player in the next minute or so.
He'd felt a little pity for the recent Biter he'd killed outside, but as he staggered up the stairs to find an actual vinyl player set up to speakers he was rapidly becoming glad that the woman had been removed from the 'surviving humans' category. There was no way Spike had left the set-up like this, even if the man had been in another one of his crotchety 'testing' moods.
Just resisting the urge to remove the vinyl player from the electrical supply in a very physical manner, Aiden unplugged the thing and then moved to turn the light in the room off, leaving the communication tower in blessed darkness. Thankfully the large metal door on the far side of the room was still in one piece, though it seemed to be locked from the inside, probably the reason the scavenger had been caught out with whatever stupidity she had been caught in.
That just meant a less straightforward method of entry was required, and looking around as he turned on his torch Aiden saw a large couch that was out of place against the wall the secured door was against. Pulling it away, Aiden found there was an iron grate that had been wedged into a hole in the wall, which looked like it could be secured with some bolts that were visible on the other side. It took a firm yank with both hands to swing the grate outwards, and Aiden had to admire the handiwork of whoever had constructed this particular entry.
Biters would press against the opening rather than trying to pull it out of the way, their own body weight working against them as the grate could only open outwards it seemed. Mindful of the screeching he'd heard earlier, Aiden dropped to his knees and crawled through, turning to pull the couch back as best he could before he had to close the grate. Placing both bolts in the drilled holes they seemed to fit into, Aiden dropped back onto his haunches and looked around the room he'd entered.
It seemed to have been the broadcasting rooms, as there was a recording table set up to one side and a large amount of filing cabinets and other office equipment that were in the room. And though Aiden was worried about the two only partially boarded windows he could see in the room, his focus was immediately drawn to the slivers of purple light that he could see around the edge of a large bookcase on the far side of the room.
"UV! Thank you, anyone who's listening up there." Aiden had never had much of a chance to become religious, but as Spike had taught him, you sometimes needed someone or something to thank or vent at in order to maintain your sanity.
Contrary to popular belief, UV lights by themselves didn't guarantee a safe night, as some of the more intelligent volatiles had been known to throw projectiles to try and destroy them or even just to try and kill those hiding under them. But between the physical obstacles Aiden could see and the deterrence the light would have, he was feeling pretty good about his chances.
Though as he suddenly heard another shriek, this one far, far closer, Aiden decided he could send thanks later. For now, it was time to get a night's rest as best as he could, after patching up his cuts with the cloth, chamomile and honey he'd gathered of course.
Dawn, and the man who was supposedly his source on the location of Waltz, seemed an awfully long time away…
!"£$%^&*()_+
Mont Rigaud Radio Control Tower, Central France, 2036, 15 years after the Fall
Aiden Caldwell, Pilgrim 'Roamer and Long Walker'
"Aiden, Aidenbabiden!"
"Remember these Mia, even if they separate us, we can always find each other."
"Dr Waltz, we won't make it, the military…"
"Fire, fire in the lab!"
"Aiden!"
"Mia, No!" Aiden awoke quickly, something he found he'd been able to do ever since escaping Waltz and his henchmen in that lab.
The disadvantage of this particular trait was the inability to have a lie in, though such an Old World luxury wasn't exactly common nowadays anyway.
It had been a more difficult night than most he'd had recently, his discussions with Spike and the fight yesterday dredging up old memories. Luckily he hadn't been loud enough to prompt a reaction from his new 'house mate', a volatile that had arrived shortly after he had closed himself in. It had spent a good hour tearing through the main building looking for him, before quieting down enough for him to get some sleep.
He'd have to deal with it before he tried to use the radio in the safe room, Aiden thought a little wearily as he got up from the improvised bedding in the safe room and stretched. While it wouldn't react to his movements and other reactions as long as he remained fairly quiet, the last thing he needed was it hammering the door down while he was trying to get the details on where Dr Waltz was.
"Now, the agony of choice…" Hefting the hatchet up and grabbing one of the kitchen knives from his backpack, Aiden debated which access he wanted to try and use to get out of his 'safe' room.
If he used the main door, he was almost guaranteed to alert the volatile and initiate a fight. But if he tried to use the hidden access and was too loud getting the sofa out of the way, he'd be at a disadvantage and either have to fight at a crouch or retreat.
In the end he gambled on his ability to be quiet enough to avoid detection, shifting over to the hatch and using the dim glow of the dawn peeking through the windows to avoid the few pieces of furniture in the broadcasting room on the way.
Ducking into the grate, Aiden took a moment to send a mental note of thanks to Spike once more, the old veteran having repeatedly drilled into the rookie pilgrims that endurance and agility were more important than bulk and strength. If Aiden had more bulk than he currently had, shimmying through the gap quietly would have been impossible rather than merely incredibly difficult.
Twice when removing the bolts he had been forced to pause, as the scratching from the Volatile stopped and its breathing became harsher, but it got distracted by something else in the building and scampered off with a piercing cry. Judging by the pained squeak and crunching that he could make out, as he shifted the grate out of the way, a rat or something like it had served as an unwitting distraction for him.
The sofa had been thrown from its original position during the night, making it easier for him to get out and rest the grate upon it to avoid any further noise. The patches of light seeping in from outside made it easy enough to move through the upper floor of the building without fear of hitting anything, and the crunching and slobbering made finding the Volatile a simple if displeasing task.
It was facing away from him, hands grabbing at giblets of flesh and guts that had escaped from its mouth and shoving them back inside, rather like a child with no concept that its mouth could get too full of a tasty treat. There was, however, no reason to relax or assume this would be easy. This volatile was small, compared to others Aiden had seen and mostly avoided in the past, but it would still be stronger and faster than him in a fair fight.
Each step closer felt as if stepping closer to one's own grave, Aiden's heart nearly stopping as three steps from the Volatile it finished guzzling its prey and sat back on its haunches with a gurgling cry.
There was no time to think, only to act, and Aiden threw himself forwards. He didn't yell or shout as he slammed the Hatchet into the side of the Volatile's head just below its ear, an angry grunt of exertion was all he allowed himself as the Volatile's head burst like an overripe grape.
The Volatile hit a wall with a thud before slumping to the floor, degraded brain matter and splinters of bone peppering the surfaces in an all too familiar 'art' form. Aiden jumped back and away, positioning himself so that his back was to a wall and he had the best lines of vision to the doorways and most importantly the stairs down to the ground floor. The thundering of his heart was all he could hear for several seconds, and as he confirmed there were no other infected in the building responding to the noise Aiden realised he had unconsciously been holding his breath.
Gasping, as his lungs remembered their function and his body screamed for oxygen, Aiden allowed himself to relax a little. Not completely, that would only happen after he had secured the building properly and dealt with the bodies, but it was enough for now.
"Now, how to get you out of here…" Thankfully, the window the other Volatile had broken yesterday was not too far away, it wasn't too arduous a task to drag the Volatile over and heft it through after cleaning the worst of the broken glass from the pane remnants.
He had to admit, the crunch combined with a wet splat as the Volatile hit the floor was immensely satisfying.
Still, burying or burning the dead was a secondary concern for him right now, Aiden thought as he moved back to the radio room and re-secured the grate. Right now he needed to use the radio, first to reach Spike's mysterious contact on 140.200 MHz. Then he had to try and contact someone useful in Pilgrim Command further to the North, the latter was a conversation he wasn't looking forward to.
Between the complex authentication passcodes, which someone would no doubt have changed at least twice since he left New Paris, and the fact that he had to remember the words and phrases that would be used to describe this windfall in code he was not going to enjoy the next hour or so.
Why did he volunteer to become a Roamer again? He now understood why Spike had refused being 'promoted' to the point of almost physical violence time and time again…
!"£$%^&*()_+
Mont Rigaud Radio Control Tower, Central France, 2036, 1 Day later
Aiden Caldwell, Pilgrim 'Roamer and Long Walker'
"This is the Pilgrim, someone looking for a package delivery?" Having tuned through the various frequencies, Aiden understood why Spike had told him there would be some passphrases when he spoke to the informant in Villedor.
No-one would find it odd that a Pilgrim was being contacted for a delivery, even in Villedor, though he hadn't had a response the day before when he tried the same.
It also made him grudgingly accept that there was a reasoning behind the two hour farce that he had suffered through to get in touch with the nearest Pilgrim Outpost.
Outpost Saint-Germain-Les-Buxy, jokingly called Saint Busty German by most non-French survivors, was thankfully one of the Outposts that Aiden had visited semi-frequently during his time as a Pilgrim. If he hadn't demanded to speak to the Commander of the Outpost by codename after an hour of trying to authenticate himself to the belligerent and hungover sounding radio operator, he probably would have given up for the day.
Michel Delforge, codename Triumph for being the youngest survivor of the Paris withdrawal to pass the Pilgrim Training Program, wasn't what Aiden would call a friend but had recognised his voice. Michel had asked him to recite specifics of his second to last visit to Saint-Germain before moving onto taking his report.
Aiden's French wasn't great, in fact it was terrible. But from what he caught at the end of the discussion before Michel finished the transmission, the radio operator was going to have the 'honour' of being sent to take over the Outpost from Spike while Michel asked for additional Pilgrims to be sent from New Paris and elsewhere.
It was a sign of how big the population problem was becoming in New Paris if an Outpost Commander was moving people this quickly. That or Spike's name was still the Gold Standard in the Pilgrim Hierarchy, probably a combination of both.
"This is Damocles, Pilgrim, are you still there?" The voice response of Damocles, the Informant that Spike had told Aiden about, drew his attention back to the transmitter.
"Yes, I'm here Damocles. This delivery is from Lyon, correct? Related to a missing persons case?" Aiden could have been more circumspect about things, but trying to be too subtle about the location and objective would take too long and possibly just confuse things.
There was a snort of amusement from the other end of the communicator.
"You Pilgrims really are all paranoid, I thought it was just that other one that I spoke to. But yes, that's right. If you are looking for this particular person, given how young you sound, I'm assuming that you are looking for him due to his previous occupation?" Aiden froze in place, his finger poised over the receiver button as his mind ran through a dozen different responses in a fraction of a second.
The urge to ignore the attempts to be subtle entirely was overwhelming, but he managed to swallow down the anxiety in his throat and remain somewhat calm sounding as he responded.
"More looking for a companion he had from that occupation and may have taken with him, a woman in her early 20's with brown hair, pale complexion." His hatred of Waltz took a back seat for the time being, his dream about Mia from the day before taking precedence.
"Shit, you really are who I thought you were. Okay, we need to meet. How quickly can you make it to Villedor?"
"Two or three days? I would need to scout a safe route… I assume you would want something from me in return for this information?"
"Yeah, I want out of Villedor and escort to somewhere safe. The other Pilgrim mentioned a place called New Paris?" That was achievable, even if Aiden needed to carry on chasing Mia the Outpost would have people capable of escorting this man.
"That can be managed. You need to give me landmarks for us to meet at." There was a pause, and that made Aiden relax slightly.
If the man had answered straight away, it would have been too easy. His instincts were already screaming at him that this was a trap, though catching up with Waltz and Mia meant that it didn't really matter.
"The entrance near the lake… No, too risky. Where will you be coming from, the North I assume?" Aiden took a moment to think, as he didn't have an accurate map to hand he had to base his position on estimates.
"I think so, if not I will work my way around the city to the North, though that would take me an extra day or so." Villedor wasn't a small location, and the threat of Volatiles would mean he'd be taking it slow.
"Right, it makes sense, take me a couple of days to get ready… 3 days at dawn. There are seven GRE checkpoints in the Northern Wall, the one by the Metro Station is accessible I think. Head there and we will meet inside. If you can't make it in 3 days, I will wait one more day, but I can't be here any longer than that… Damocles out." The tantalising knowledge that he was at last getting closer made Aiden desperate and he activated the communicator again despite Damocles signing off.
"Wait, please. Just… Is she alive?" There was silence that stretched for several seconds, Aiden's heart sinking with every moment of quiet.
"Yeah. Yeah she's alive. Three days at dawn kid. Don't let me down."
A/N: Short Chapter, again with a mixture of world building and a bit of character development. Need to buckle down and play through the start of the Dying Light 2 again to inspire how I want to do the infiltration into Villedore and how 'official' way that Pilgrims gain access to the City. It has to be incredibly challenging, otherwise the whole feel of a city isolated from the world is lost, but the way you get into the city in game is too easy anyway.
Will give it some more thought. Leave a review and let me know what you think…
Defias out!