"Jade! Welcome back."
She nodded to the gun-carrying guardsman, who waved her through the opening to the Tower. Nimbly, she hopped up the emptied stairwell into the building proper, where more guardsmen wordlessly greeted her as she walked by them. Emre, the quartermaster, swung around on his chair and beckoned her over.
"Jade," he greeted, though his face fell once he saw her come close. "Oh, empty-handed. The run didn't go well?"
She shook her head and grimaced. "Rais's men," she muttered. "They were at both airdrops. They didn't even leave the food."
Emre's face darkened. He flipped through the papers on the clipboard he held, and tapped on a spot somewhat idly, then noted something with a scratch of a pen. "We're really running low…" he said, his shoulders sagging. "At this rate, we might have to give Khaliq's garden idea a shot, if we even live long enough to see it bear fruit."
"We should be doing that regardless," she said, and turned to leave. They long since collected the seeds on the various runs through the city, and the amount of rainfall this year lent itself almost perfectly to growing conditions. It was just that, despite being made up of nearly all of the survivors in the city, no one there actually knew how to grow a plant. Of course she understood the basics - give it water, place it in soil, and leave it in the sun - but the basics wouldn't be enough.
A thought struck her, and she paused, slowly turning back. "Have you… seen Rahim leave?" she asked tentatively.
Emre hummed tunelessly. "If he did, I didn't see him," he answered, shrugging. "The boy getting up to something?"
She groaned in frustration. "Yes, him and his friend. I just don't know what. Would you keep an eye out for me? Make sure he doesn't leave the Tower, okay?"
"I'll do my best."
"Thank you," she said sincerely, and left to jog towards the elevator.
Whatever went through that boy's mind, she couldn't comprehend it. He didn't care for his own safety in the slightest, leaving her to worry out of her mind any time he left her sights. He was selfish, just a self-absorbed teenager, with nothing but hare-brained ideas that went nowhere. She always had to pick up the pieces each time they failed. Even before the virus.
He was going to get himself killed someday, and all she could do was watch.
The elevator let out a half-hearted, nearly muted ding as she arrived on the 19th floor, and the doors slid open. She stepped off it quickly - she didn't want to be the one on it when it finally gave out. The guardsman sent her a smile and a wave as she strode passed, which she only halfway returned. Nearly everyone she passed gave some indication of a greeting, be it a nod, a wave, or even a quiet 'hey!', but she returned them all only a short nod.
She hesitated in front of the door to the headquarters. It seemed all she ever gave was grim news. She saw it affected Brecken; He grew colder, more distant, more stressed as time wore on. It was clear that there was no rescue coming. He would stand by the radio and the television day after day, just waiting for the next transmission. Just waiting for the next failure of a mission to get back to him.
She steeled herself, and entered.
"Jade, you're back," called over Brecken. She took it as an invitation and joined him in the spacious room. For once, he wasn't standing in front of the TV, but instead was grabbing something from the fridge. He pulled out a single bottle of alcohol, one of the few remaining in the stash. She raised an eyebrow at that. "It's to celebrate the good news. Or to stave off the bad news," he explained, holding up the bottle and giving it a small shake. "Don't tell the kid we have this stuff."
"He already knows," she said disapprovingly. She had caught Rahim with one before, and gave him the earful of his lifetime. Somehow, he seemed to forget they were facing an apocalypse and needed to stay alert at all times. She changed the subject. "About the run…"
Brecken placed the bottle down and preemptively placed his head in his hands. "Do I even want to hear it?" he muttered. "Never mind. Just lay it on me."
She shook her head. "Both drops were already taken by Rais's men-" He sighed loudly. "-and they left nothing. They had guns, Brecken. There was nothing I could do." She grimaced. "I'm sorry."
He didn't respond. His hands curled to fists, and his entire body grew rigid. But after a moment of silence, he let out a breath. Still tense, he stepped toward the TV, and she gingerly followed him.
"Fucking guns?" he grit out. He ran a hand through his hair, almost pulling some out. She couldn't blame him. Time was running out, and she had nothing to show from days upon days of supply runs. "Great. Just fucking great."
He leaned over the couch, face hidden, gripping the leather at its seams. She knew what was coming next. They had both shot it down before, argued for weeks over it. They couldn't come to a mutual decision, but it had to be done. It was the only choice left, and the time to truly consider it was fast approaching. She opened her mouth-
"Brecken? Jade?"
She whipped around to see Rahim standing at the entrance doorway. He gave her a quick, unreadable look, then passed by her towards Brecken.
Ice pooled in her belly. How much had he heard? At least they hadn't begun discussing plans. If he knew, she had no doubt he would take off on his own the moment her back was turned and get himself shot to pieces. What scheme would he even come up with? For all she knew, he would try to steal guns from the guardsmen below for himself to fight them back.
"Rahim?" Brecken's fury vanished from his voice, though his figure still held tension. "Was there something you needed?"
"I want in on what you guys are planning," Rahim said, almost cutting off the end of Brecken's sentence. Of course. Of course that was what he wanted. She set her jaw, and Brecken froze at the same time.
"No," they said near simultaneously. They spared a glance at each other. Rahim's excitement turned to frustration, but before he could argue with the words she knew he was going to say, she intercepted him.
"Rahim, you are needed here. I need you here," she began desperately. There wasn't a set of words in the world that could convince him out of a new stupid idea he had, but she had to try. "If you go out there, you will get yourself killed. They will kill you without a second thought. If you stay here, you will be helping everyone in the Tower, helping all of the survivors that we just don't have enough manpower to take care of. You will be helping me, Rahim."
She knew that the moment the words were out of her mouth, it was a mistake. She should have let Brecken speak instead. He would listen to him, not her.
A determined fury took over Rahim's expression. "I can do so much more out there! I know we don't have enough runners on the field. We have too many people sitting around, doing nothing in the Tower! We don't need another!"
"Rahim!" she raised her voice. What could she say? What could she say to make him listen? "It's your and Brecken's job to train new runners. If you were to go out, then you would be leaving it all to him. Harris already has to juggle manning the airdrop locations, runner teams, and guiding everyone in the Tower. Do you want to put that responsibility on him too?"
"You can't just keep treating me like glass!" His voice rose to match hers. "I'm not going to die the second I step out there! I'm a runner too - You can't keep me in here!"
She resisted the urge to yell back. It wouldn't help. Instead, she pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a frustrated groan. She knew how he felt. Ever since their first disastrous supply run together, he'd been relegated to Tower duty. It wasn't his fault. But it was for the best. It was all she could do to protect him.
"Rahim, you can't go," Brecken piped up calmly. He spared Jade a regretful glance, then continued. "Those thugs, they got guns now." Rahim opened his mouth to argue, but Brecken kept going. "They aren't afraid to use them, either. You and I both know a single shot is more than enough to kill you no matter how fast you can run. And if that single shot misses, the Virals'll come and mop up the rest. You're not invincible, and like your sister says, you aren't expendable either. The work you do to keep us, and the whole Tower together, is invaluable. We can't afford to lose you, mate."
Rahim was silent for a moment, clearly fuming. "What about you, then?" he demanded, rounding on the man. "You go on runs all the time, and you're the leader of this whole place. If you go missing, then what? Me and Jade will pick up the pieces?"
Brecken looked stricken, but Jade had enough. If reasoning couldn't get through his stubborn skull, then authority would. She hoped. "Rahim! Enough of this. This conversation is over. You are staying home, and that is final," she ordered in the most commanding voice she could muster.
He quailed at her tone, but she knew that wouldn't be the end of it. He was a young boy, trapped in a prison inside another prison. Of course he would want to wander, to spread his wings and fly from the nest. Her heart clenched at the thought. How many different ways could he die? How long would it be until he stopped obeying, and left? He couldn't be thick enough to leave in the cover of night, she told herself. But she doubted even that much to stay true.
The room was deathly quiet, with only the sound of a strong breeze billowing the window drapery on the balcony filling the air. It was always the same after each argument. He would most likely head to the roof to sulk once they simmered down. She caught him there once, by accident. He was throwing himself into running the parkour course they had set up in the Gym over and over until he couldn't move, and she had to drag him back to his quarters. After that, Amir had told her that Rahim timed it so she would be out on a run while he was busy.
The gulf between them widened each passing day, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Suddenly, the distinct rumble of an airplane flying overhead sounded in the distance. The three snapped to attention, scanning the room and the balcony to the outside. What? The TV was blank, and the radio was silent. There were no planned shipments, as far as she knew - they were done for the day. She looked to Brecken, eyebrows knit closely, silently asking him the question.
"What the hell?" muttered Brecken, the previous conversation completely forgotten. He charged towards the TV, but the screen remained black. He turned to the radio - still silent. "The day's drops already came. What's going on?"
She shook her head, and she and Rahim hurried to the balcony to see outside. The evening sun made it difficult to make anything out with its orange glare covering the sky. She heard Brecken approach from behind as they searched the clouds - and spotted it. In the far, far distance was a plane, too high to make out any details. That was the part that unnerved her the most; Too high to be normal, too high to drop support packages.
"That can't be a drop flight, can it?" Rahim asked next to her. Brecken shook his head, a definite no.
It couldn't be a civilian aircraft. Harran and the cities around it were established no-fly zones ever since the lockdowns began. She saw it herself what happened when an unrecognized flight went over the city; The fireworks were still seared in her mind. But what else? What else could it be?
Her heart plummeted to her stomach in realization. There was no way - it was too early! The Ministry of Defence had promised that as long as there were still survivors, nothing would jeopardize the city. The eyes of the world was on Harran, at least so far as she still knew since the satellites had stopped broadcasting the news. They couldn't possibly do something so drastic, not so soon.
"Bombs," was what quietly slipped out. They were stuck in place, staring at the plane. Panic curled in her gut, yet she remained frozen. What could she possibly do? "They're going to raze Harran."
"What? Bombs? Wait, wait, wait! No - they can't do that!" she heard Rahim say desperately. "There are still people living here!"
Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the railing. She hoped beyond all hope that her brother was right. With great effort, she tore herself away from the railing, and embraced him tightly. He made a noise of surprise, but quickly returned it.
No matter what happened, she would protect him.
Her mind flitted to Amir, and nausea wracked through her, causing her to hold on even tighter. She never had the chance to say goodbye to him. Her mind split - did she have enough time? Could she make it to him before they fell?
But the thin, warm arms wrapped around her assured her she made the right choice. She rested her chin on her little brother's shoulder, and waited.
"Shit! It really is! Fuck! Fuck! Jade, Rahim, I'm so sorry!" shouted Brecken, voice nearly cracking from the exertion.
They braced for impact.
5 seconds went by. 10 seconds. Then 20. Finally, there was a distant sound of a crash, like metal folding in on itself, followed by the crumpling of a massive structure. The familiar shrieks of Virals filled the air, but nothing more.
…Huh?
She pried open her eyes to see a plume of dust erupting deep in the city, in the direction of the apartment complexes. Pure apprehension held back any relief as she watched the dust settle slowly. Her mind overran with panic-fueled thoughts. Where was the explosion? Why were they alive? What was that?
They held each other for a moment longer, lingering in each other's arms. When it became clear they weren't in immediate danger, they slowly unraveled, and faced the decaying pillar of dust. The rumble of the plane petered out in the distance. Could it have been a dud?
After a few seconds of watching for anything else, Brecken was the first to speak. "I'm- I'll… I'm going to the roof. To get the binoculars." With that, he left, though she heard him mutter under his breath, "What the fuck was that…?"
She spared a glance at the still-silent radio on the table, expecting it to come to life at any moment to explain what just dropped. But it remained dead quiet, with only the wind pushing the drapery beside them. The blackened dust grew fainter and more difficult to see as the sun sank over the horizon.
"We should go, too," Rahim noted, his voice wavering. She nodded - they had to see what it was before it became too dark. By morning, whatever it was would be long gone, either taken apart by Rais's thugs or by other scavengers in the area. Though, perhaps the threat of Volatiles would keep it intact until the morning crew could get to it.
xxxxxxx
Alex was cold. He could barely move, tendrils frozen in place. His entire body shivered, though it was less to actually heat him and more just a vestigial psychosomatic response from the memories swimming in his biomass. The bastards just dropped him from the jet, dumping him out with no warning. Or, maybe they did warn him, but his awareness was so dim that he couldn't have noticed.
After what felt like hours passed by, the world slowly bled into focus around him. Distant, animalistic shrieks filtered through his warbled hearing. Closer still, he heard inhumanly deep, labored breaths following heavy, wet footsteps. But after listening for a few seconds, the footsteps seemed aimless, following no strict pattern. Whatever it was, it wasn't looking for him.
Shortly after his hearing recovered, so did his sight. The lighting was dim, and the sky above was moonless. But to his surprise, it was also lightly speckled with stars. There never was a chance in the Big Apple to see them. He never considered himself to be the sentimental type, and would rather chop off a limb than admit it aloud, but seeing visible stars filled him with a sense of… something. Curiosity? He quickly crushed the thought to focus on the more immediate, more important surroundings.
He adjusted his eyes to work in the pitch dark, and let out a small, frustrated growl when he still couldn't make out much. Despite being able to make near perfect nocturnal vision, even he had his limits; If there was no light to begin with, then enhancing the amount of light he could take in would have no effect. Still, with the light of the stars, he could tell he was inside a building of some kind. Judging by how far the hole he made through the roof was, he was within a basement of sorts, crashed several floors through a multi-story complex. It was no skyscraper, though.
He made to drag himself to his feet when he felt a tug of something attached to his body, attempting to pin him in place. Alarmed, metallic claws sprung from his fingers and he swiped instinctually at the offending object. He almost stumbled as the thing snapped off of him with little to no resistance, and brushed gently against the rubble-filled floor. It sounded like… Oh. It was the strings from the parachute they demanded to attach to him. He quickly tore off the remaining pieces of it, leaving the rig to fall uselessly to the ground. Though, he noted that the strings didn't seem to be attached to the actual parachute - it must have torn off at some point.
Despite his lack of sight, he could tell he was surrounded by concrete rubble, most of it directly below him 'cushioning' his fall. He finally fully got to his feet, resisting the urge to cough as a cloud of dust fell from him, and searched briefly for an exit. Well, the only way was up through the roof, where he came from and so conveniently left a massive hole. He crouched, coiling the tendrils in his legs, and leapt directly skyward-
And completely overshot the roof. The building was smaller than it seemed. For a precious few moments, he hung motionless in the air, high above all else in the city. His mind worked overdrive to absorb all of the new details despite the cover of utter blackness. It was a large city, surrounded on all sides by a wall that must have spanned at least 50 feet tall. Some buildings were lit up, still containing electricity, and stuck out like a sore thumb. The one he hopped up from had none, nor did any nearby.
He began falling. Quickly, he righted himself, and shifted into a more stable glide to land atop one of the nearby apartment complexes. The landing was anything but gentle, and sent him almost straight through the brittle roofing, snaking cracks throughout the entire rooftop with a massive crash. Shortly following the sound were distant screams, but he ignored it. As it were, his legs were through the material, and he had to struggle to free himself into a less humiliating position. If he had blood vessels, his face would have heated. He immediately filed the memory into the 'do not touch' vault along with everything else he omitted telling Dana about.
What the hell were these buildings made of? Cardboard? The infrastructure was atrocious, some members of his biomass couldn't help but bubble up and comment internally. The code violations in the structural stability alone would make any lawyer a mint, though that depended on what building codes were even in place in Turkey. Some parts of his biomass that he recognized belonging to the few innocent safety inspectors he had mistaken for Gentek employees despaired at the sight. If it could barely handle his density, then he couldn't imagine how it was able to survive through harsh winters.
With a huff, he stalked to the edge of the roof, taking care of how he shifted his mass with each step. Then, he made the mistake of tasting the air.
Rot.
He doubled over and heaved, but nothing came out. He lacked the organs to do it. He swiftly deconstructed his olfactory organs, but it didn't help. His tendrils tasted the air regardless, kept dragging in the scent of death, filling him with it. He coughed violently, desperately trying to disgorge. He staggered back, away from the stench to no avail. It followed him, curling acridly through him.
In a final desperate attempt, he forced his skin to harden to block his senses. A thick, impenetrable mass grew over him, similar to the black Armor he wore, covering his body from head to toe. Thankfully, it seemed to work - he abruptly couldn't smell anything at all, like a blanket covered him. He let out an internal sigh of relief.
What the fuck was that!?
Redlight didn't do that. It didn't smell like death. It didn't carry the stench of old rotting corpses. The hosts were alive, if brain-dead, but still alive. At most, it simply smelled of masses of unwashed humans covered in blood and rank bile. Which was not pleasant, but his senses had long since attuned to associating Infected with food.
This? He tried to imagine consuming anything with that fetid miasma attached, and shuddered. His tendrils coiled in on themselves as if protesting the very thought. They might as well have been.
Suddenly, inhuman shrieks filled the air below him. Claws scratched manically against the side of the building - something was scrambling up, spitting and screeching. More and more claws joined in, until a veritable mob of creatures were quickly advancing onto his position. Calmly, he turned to face the first one that leapt onto the roof.
It was a… creature. Rather, an infected. It stood upright unlike a Hunter, though it was covered in slabs of red, fleshless skin patched with deathly pale skin that mimicked his own. Its chest was burst open with sharp ribs splayed out haphazardly, but most notably, where its jaw should have been was sliced open, and instead was hanging loosely from its cheeks like insect mandibles.
It circled him slowly, predatorily, as if unsure what to make of him. Its eyes burned an unearthly orange and bore straight into his. Was it trying to measure him up? Intimidate him? Two could play at that game.
He moved to match its stride, and it snarled warningly, clicking its mandibles. Shortly after, he was surrounded by the other creatures that made it to the roof, but none made a move to attack yet. Not all of them were like the creature ahead of him. Most were more human, but he didn't want to look away from the creature to make any sudden movements. Predators would take that as an offense; He had to squash that instinct fast back when peace times rolled around.
Its movements were unsettlingly familiar to his own. Confident, predatory, hungry. He could feel the rest of them move in closer, but… They didn't feel coordinated. They each moved separately, unsynchronized, guided by instinct rather than command. They had more in common with animals than the Infected under Greene.
Sudden worry struck him. Did they have a Hive Mind at all? How would he find the Runner if they were all disconnected? Was there even a Runner in the first place?
He chased the thoughts from his head. He was about to find out anyway, after he consumed them.
The creature evidently had the same idea. With all pretenses dropped, it lunged at him, claws swiping out uncontrollably. He curved away from the attack, and readied a kick - but was grabbed from behind. They pulled at his neck, screaming while attempting to rip it from him and drag him closer, but he instead reeled back and splattered the head of the infected behind from its neck with a single punch.
He blinked, analyzing the viscera on his armored fist, then at the fallen body. It was one of the more human ones. One punch usually was enough for the infected, but to have its head explode? The flesh and bone holding its body together must've been thin.
The headless body didn't seem to bother the rest of the crowd. They jumped at him, spitting and screeching. Gangly arms tugged and clawed at him in all directions, but none were able to scratch his Armor. He didn't bother dodging. Instead, he willed his arm to sharpen.
With a slice, he bisected three of the human-like infected. They crumpled into a bloody heap - but were stomped over by more screaming infected taking their place. He sliced through more, cutting through body and limb like butter. Strangely, the mandibled creatures simply watched the carnage from outside of the group. Yep, they were definitely measuring him up.
As soon as he beheaded the final human-like infected with a gurgled shriek, they pounced, actually bowling him over with the force. He was pinned against the floor, those orange eyes glaring boiling hatred into his. Fists smashed against his head, claws tore into his chest, mandibles bit into his throat, but still his Armor held. The bastards were fucking heavy-
But not heavy enough. With a shove, he forcefully threw the creature atop him several feet back and jumped to his feet. Credit to where credit's due - the creature only stumbled, quickly regaining its balance. The assault didn't stop. He dodged aside as another one of the creatures pounced at him, then again when he almost backed into another.
He had enough of being on the defensive. It wasn't his style. The tendrils in his legs coiled, and he leapt straight up. Snapping his eyes to the nearest one, he shot towards it with a burst of speed - and sliced through it with almost no resistance. It slumped to the floor with a pitiable whine in two bloodied chunks.
…What.
Experimentally, he lifted his bladed arm high above his head and swung down on the next creature. It cut straight through cleanly in half, as easily as the screeching infected. It screamed bloody murder just like them when it died, too.
That was it? This was what he was called to a whole different fucking country for? This is what Blackwatch was scared about? Even fucking Walkers didn't keel over so easily, not to mention Hunters. These ones couldn't even scratch his Armor, let alone take a hit from him. This had to be some kind of diversion, he was certain of it now.
Growling, he turned to face the final creature, readying his bladed arm. It hissed and clicked its mandibles, but held no fear. It didn't approach, standing back, so he did instead. It inhaled suddenly - and he was too close to dodge the globule of mucus it spat at his face.
The first and only thought he had was Bloodtox.
"Motherfuck-!" he hissed, clutching his face. His face - it burned, dripping, dissolving. Pieces of himself dribbled down his body, sizzling and steaming. The pain radiated, spreading slowly outwards, and his world grew dark. He felt his skin bubble and burst, only increasing as it traveled through his body.
Blindly, he swiped where he last saw the creature, but his blade only sliced through air. The acid ate through his Armor, ate through his false flesh. It was dissolving his virions into denatured goop - so he made the only choice he could. Desperately, he willed his blade into claws, then with a single strike, he sloughed off half of his head.
…
For only a precious moment, he lost consciousness. But through it, he forced every single part of Blacklight in him to repair the missing chunk as fast as possible. His biomass obeyed without question, thinning and stretching to cover the wound and regrow it, leaving him to stumble forward dizzily. It felt like patchwork, like replacing a hole with flesh from another body. A part of him emptied, and he felt the beginnings of hunger fray the back of his mind. But it was a sacrifice that needed to be made.
Snarling with regrown teeth and glaring with rebuilt eyes, he faced the creature once more. Surprisingly, it had only moved away from him during his regeneration instead of pressing its opportunity. Was it wary of him?
He didn't care for the answer. Without any hesitation, he leapt at the creature with his claws forward, knocking it to the ground. It wriggled and snarled in his grasp, clacking its mandibles forwards in a pathetic attempt to bite him. But when he saw it inhale once more, he immediately grabbed its jaws with both hands and tore its head in half. Its body spasmed once, then fell limp.
Wasting no time for somatic death, he burrowed his feeder tendrils into the flesh of the creature, pumping it full of his virus. But it wasn't melting. Confused, he tried pushing further in, but the creature's body only partially liquefied. Was the virus somehow more powerful than his own? That made no sense. It wouldn't have died so easily if it was.
He shrugged - a meal's a meal - and pulled its mass into himself regardless.
And immediately threw it up. His tendrils rejected it so hard that it flew from the roof to the ground below, where it exploded into a splatter of gore, covering the street and unmoving cars with blood, slightly dissolved chunks of flesh, and shattered pieces of bone.
What the fuck.
That thing was dead. Fully, completely dead. And it wasn't him who killed it - it died months ago. What he fought was nothing more than a virus piloting a corpse. Familiarity with that particular situation aside, that meant he couldn't assimilate them into his mass. He couldn't eat them.
He couldn't eat the Infected in Harran.
