Chapter XXIV: Rebuild (Part II)

(Music: "It Was A Good Day", by Ice Cube)

"Look at this sentence, Jack. Do you see any spelling mistakes?"

Ellie placed her finger on one of the written sentences within the old kindergarten-level book on basic English. The sentence read, as follows, errors and all:

"Bill went to tha convenience stoor to buy a karton of milk."

I stared studiously at the sentence, tongue sticking out unintentionally from the side of my mouth. The boombox playing music from a few feet away was not helping my concentration, but I knew, after spending weeks with her, that Ellie enjoyed playing music whenever and wherever she could.

Focus, focus, I strained to think. Even after two weeks of daily hour-long tutoring sessions, I felt no closer to understanding the "English" language than before. The words on the page translated terribly into my mind, looking more like a jumble of scribbles rather than anything meaningful or understandable to me. On the contrary, I was able to pick up verbal communication at an excelling rate, and could grasp complex vocabulary and their meanings with relative ease as long as it was taught to me by mouth and not writing. Considering the fact that I'd never received a formal education or came in contact with paper and pencil before in my life, the difference in ways of learning started to make sense to me over time.

Still, for the sake of pleasing Ellie, I endured this hideously boring practice solely to be in her presence. I wanted every reason possible to stay around her, to be in her proximity, as close as social conventions would allow me. I wanted to touch her skin, to drag my fingers softly across her cheeks; I wanted to pinch her smooth face and trace the inner lining of her ears...

Being around her was like tasting colors; wholly indescribable yet somehow fluid and mystical in a way that just made sense to me.

FUCK! I almost erupted in mindless shouting. This music was breaking my train of romantic thought. For the first time in my life, I was beginning to understand the meaning of a 'vibe'; and mine was getting fucked up constantly by this pollutive stream of noise-waste blaring out from her portable speaker.

"Jack?" Ellie muttered, trying to get my attention.

"A-Ah, yes. Um... let's go with "Bill", "buy", and "went" as the words spelled wrong."

Ellie held a forced smile for a few seconds, before dropping the truth.

"Completely wrong, unfortunately."

I groaned, leaning back in my chair with a tired sigh. "What'd I get wrong?"

"Literally everything."

I cracked a grin unintentionally at her delivery of that reply, but decided to hide it under a facade of frustration. I was filled with anxiety on how to talk with this gorgeous woman without sounding like some hopeless sack of shit-donuts.

"Care to... el-ab-or-ate?"

Feeling utterly proud of myself for uttering that word, I folded my arms behind my head, leaning back a little too far and suddenly finding myself crashing into the floor with rapid success. The only thing worse than the hard knock of my cranium against the floorboards was the wheeze-giggling of Ellie, who lost her composure while slapping her knee in a most comical manner.

"This' gotta be on purpose." She giggled.

"How inexplicably hilarious. Rggghh... help me up."

Ellie's face became stuck between amusement and surprise, before she corrected her facial muscles with a slap across her cheek.

"Still can't get over your learning pattern. You can pick up big words by mouth, but you can't read. You can adjust to social issues easily, but you've talked to almost no one since I met you. Being around you feels familiar, but I've never met you before in my life. You're a walking paradox."

Fuck did she call me? I thought indignantly, having no understanding of the word 'paradox'. My path to being a living lexicon was still a long one. I decided to change the course of the conversation; something was pending in my mind like a parasitic thought.

"I got you something." I interrupted her, reaching into my backpack and pulling out a tidily-wrapped gift box with a red bow on top. Ellie's eyes slightly widened in surprise at the gift, taking it in her hands as I offered it.

"Wow, thank you. Not often you get gifts in this day and age. You and Joel seem to share a lot of common traits."

I slightly furrowed my eyebrows at the last remark from her.

"Whaddya mean?" I asked inquisitively.

She exhaled through her nose, moving the gift box around in her fingers studiously.

"Joel's the only other person in the city who's given me a physical gift. Aside from *#* EWSFD-"

At this point in time, my mind mentally blocked out Dina's name whenever it came up. That aside, the way she said Joel's name, followed by her eyes turning downwards with the subtle expression of guilt and frustration, was easy to comprehend. Somehow, I knew exactly what she was thinking about- the Firefly hospital incident.

I leaned back in my chair, thinking about the complex situation between her and Joel.

The problem I supposed was that Ellie saw Joel's actions and his decision as a mistake. She thought that he fucked up and then tried to hide it. She thought that it was because he was ashamed of what he did. But with the way he described it to me, the emotions in his words, and the conviction of his thoughts- that couldn't have been why he lied to her about that massacre for so long.

To my assumption, he lied because he wanted to protect Ellie, to give her a clear conscience, to get rid of her guilt for as long as he could, to free her as much as possible for as long as possible. She thought he lied so that they could spend more time together, knowing that if he had told her the truth, their relationship would have been ruined. She thought that Joel's actions all revolved around the assumption that she wouldn't find out and that he could keep it a secret forever, therefore removing the consequence of his mistake. She thought that that's why he did it. She thought he did it because he believed he could get away with it without consequences.

In other words, in her mind, Joel had cheated.

He cheated her out of her destiny, her fate, whatever she may have referred to it at the time. But then he tells me that he would do it all over again, if that was what it took to keep her alive.

To me, and my understanding... he didn't cheat. He knew he couldn't get away with it. He knew this would cost him their relationship. He knew the cost and the consequences and he still accepted them. She knew that he made his "mistake" because he loved her. What she hadn't understood was just how much Joel explained it for the first time here.

He didn't apologize for it. He didn't justify it. He didn't excuse it.

He stood by his choice, hell or high water. Because to him, her life was more important than the entire world. An otherwise admirable, sweet, even noble sentiment, that was entirely tainted by his presumed hubris. And once he clarified the lack of said hubris, the taint was gone. He still committed a great injustice towards Ellie... but he did it with good intentions. For the right reasons. Intentions and reasons that, up to this point, did not exist in her mind as a possibility.

That was not something I could find myself involved in. Despite all this raw, teeming power creeping at the edges of my extremities and hid under the veneer of my flesh- this subtle conflict between Joel and Ellie was something that needed to be resolved between the two of them, and them alone. No matter how much I loved them both, it would do neither of them good to have this years-long issue interrupted by such a clumsy vagrant as me.

No matter that he was my biological father, seventeen years lost and now found.

No matter that she was the love of my life, whom I'd die for at a moment's notice.

As much as my flesh broiled with torment from this outsider perspective, I miserably accepted my background role here. Above everything else, my primary goal remained unchanging, and unwavering.

I would secure the happiness and future of Joel and Ellie. They would live their fullest lives, with many years ahead of them.

EVERYTHING ELSE COULD WITHER, ROT AND DIE FOR ALL I GAVE A SHIT.

"What's in the box?" Ellie asked me slyly, to which I raised a singular eyebrow in response.

"It's crazy, you know." I responded sarcastically. "By simply untying the bow and lifting the box lid, you could learn the answer to your question in an instant!"

Ellie laughed aloud in the middle of my reply, which no doubt fueled the dopamine injectors in my brain a thousandfold.

"Okay, smartass," she said with a grin. "Just for that, I'm not giving you the satisfaction of opening the gift in front of you."

While I laughed nonchalantly at that statement, I was secretly inflamed that I couldn't derive satisfaction from watching her open the gift. Inside was a jewelry bracelet I had taken from the only jeweler in the city; who gifted it to me shortly after the WLF siege, with the implication that I could have pretty much anything I wanted from his store (which somehow remained intact and nearly untouched even after the bombardments, shootings, and explosions). Every day since that siege, I had been continually baffled by the technological leaps and bounds this settlement had made and maintained in this grimdark world we shared.

I was also resentful of the progress this place had made, in roughly the same time that I had spent walking this earth- while I was dragged from one place to another, trying to survive by the skin of my teeth and focusing solely on food and fighting, these people were living like the world had never ended- it was like peering into a reality before my existence.

I swallowed my internal rage and got up from my chair, stretching.

"I take it you're tuckered out on tutoring today?"

H-E-L-L N-O, I wanted to shout at the top of my lungs, ignoring her unintentional alliteration. I would have sat in this cabin with Ellie to tutor for days on end if it meant I could continue to worship and soak in her presence. Still, I knew that I had other duties to tend to around the camp; duties which were imposed on me once I had gained unparalleled notoriety in both the Wyote raid and the WLF siege.

"...I guess." I managed to mutter, utterly devastated that my personal time with Ellie had come to an end for today. "There's apparently a... forum today to talk about the state of the city. I was told I had to be present, for some fuckin' reason or another."

Ellie shrugged, getting up from the chair and pocketing the gift box.

"I heard about that yesterday. I gotta say... I'm a bit worried how... crazy everyone's gotten over you. Some of these people I've known for years, especially the younger ones, have become almost completely different after the attack."

"Well," I said as I headed for the door. "Near-death experiences have a way of changing people."

"Jack."

I stopped as my hand rested on the doorknob.

"..."

Her hesitation to speak rode on my nerves, causing me to instinctively respond sardonically.

"Were you gonna ask something, or-"

"How did you know Joel was gonna be in that lodge?"

Ah, FuuUUuu-ck!

I half-expected to hear the sound of a pistol cocking as I peeked my eyes to peer at her face. I was simply astonished (and wholly relieved) to see that she wasn't, in fact, brandishing a firearm at my face; nor did her expression invite immediate terror in me. She seemed... troubled. But even now, I wasn't one to just give up information about myself so easily. Any new piece of fact I happened to introduce could shatter our relationship, and this was precisely what I was ferociously avoiding.

"..."

SHIIIT! I couldn't think of a response quickly enough that would seem natural-

"Jack, whatever you tell me at this point, it's going to be water under the bridge. I already know you saved his life. I just want to understand the context of everything from that time, so I don't have to worry about past problems potentially arising."

Inexplicably, I was now feeling a sudden urge to explain the entire situation to her. With enough reinforced willpower, I managed to keep myself silent; waiting for Ellie to broach with more questions.

"Can you fuckin' say something, dude?"

I cringed internally at myself for thinking it'd be smart to stay silent during an active interrogation. Trying to play off the awkward moment, I smoothly turned round on my heel and tilted my head slightly to peer at Ellie.

"What are you trying to know?" I asked a little more aggressively than I intended. Ellie heaved a breath in response.

"Just... I mean, I told you! How did you know he'd be there? Were you tracking him down?"

I waved my hands in the air dramatically- a neat move I'd learned from Joel when he was arguing with Tommy about what to do with Marie. To be frank, I just didn't give enough of a shit to ask about Marie's condition- even when I'd last seen her to be on the doorstep of death. From the last few days of seeing Tommy, I'd reckoned that she managed to somehow cling to the land of the living and was still being tended to.

"Whaddya want me to say, huh? I don't exactly shout my secrets to the top of the mountains!"

She had asked for honesty, but I honestly did not expect to talk about my behavior like this so casually. A month and two weeks, give or take, spent with a stunning beauty was apparently enough time to erode the confident and unwavering mental barriers in my mind.

Ellie frowned, further displeased at my clear hesitation to answer the question.

"Here I was, thinking that surviving a fucking siege together was enough to make you realize how much I trust you. You've told me NOTHING since you came into camp! Even now, I feel like I'm talking to a stranger!"

I turned away from her, trying to conceal the rage and violent frustration firing up across my body. Even when I could understand where Ellie was coming from, I was enraged both sensibly and unreasonably; my privacy was not being respected, coming from the person I cared most about spare Joel alone. I didn't want her to know about the evil things I'd done. Things that had been far worse than the siege of the WLF, the raid of the Wyotes; worse than the Infected animals, worse than the raider factions they'd faced.

The answer to this question wouldn't be likely to hurt our relationship, but I knew that from hereon, it would just be a stream of questions over time, one after another, digging and digging until she either connected the dots of my past or heard it straight from my own mouth.

After spending over a month in Jackson City, I'd learned their customs, their rules, their taboos and social conventions. I learned what they saw as 'evil' and 'good' roughly. And everything they called 'evil' was something I was intimately accustomed to at some point in my past. The way they spoke, the way they laughed and made mistakes and forgave one another so innocently-

It was like peering into an alien world, where pure-hearted, honest, and energetic souls from a far-away, utopian world climbed into their gross sacks of flesh and found content in their existence. No matter the recent siege, no matter the horror that laid outside these walls, these people were so nauseatingly optimistic and charismatic that I almost didn't believe they existed once I entered my lodging at the end of each day.

"Jack... I... I've been told everything about you from other people. Everyone except yourself."

I grit my teeth, calculating my options and eventually losing patience with the ordeal.

"Yes," I confessed. "I was tracking him down. He is my father. I was going to kill him."

I stared at the ground, almost insensible to my surroundings; like a strong haze had passed over my mind. It took but a few seconds to comprehend the amount of information I had just dumped on Ellie; and once I realized, my gaze whiplashed across the room in sheer terror of her reaction.

She was wide-eyed, mouth agape, pulled back in shock of what she'd heard. Yet somehow, it still was not an expression of hostility.

"I was practically certain you had some kind of relationship to him... His son... that... that makes sense..."

Her eyes dashed downwards, hands fiddling with the chair and table nearby.

"I... didn't realize you wanted to... kill him."

My skin shivered the moment her fearful tone reached my ears. Rage was the physical response of my body. That cursed cordyceps was poisoning my mind with anger-inducing hormones, and I was left with the after-effects of the battle frenzy this horrific disease had shoved into my brain.

I needed to calm myself. I needed to temper my thinking and rationalize my behavior. I was aware of my own deteriorating mental state; and the only thing that had prevented me from falling into utter insanity was this anchor of a peaceful haven and community.

I needed to calm myself to keep all of these connections that were so dearly important to me.

"...I don't want to kill him anymore."

Ellie cocked her head in slight perplexity at what I'd said, and I myself was entirely bemused at how stupid of a response that was after all the time I had to think.

"...Okay." She said simply. "I believe you. Especially after all this heroic shit you did. I don't really have a reason to doubt you at this point."

"Look," I said hurriedly, trying to leave the increasingly uncomfortable atmosphere of this room. "We can talk later about this, okay? I will explain some things soon."

WHY- WHY DID YOU MAKE THAT PROMISE, DICKHEAD?!

I had yet to learn words that could equal the vein-popping frustration I directed at myself in times like these. At this point, it was clear to me that this spilling of secrets wasn't happening with every single person in Jackson City. This was solely happening with Ellie... and also Joel, but he was my father so that was to be expected.

Yeah... this was the curse of love. Clearly. How else was I to try and make sense of my submissive willingness to just hand over all my private information to this woman I'd only known for roughly a month? Why was she continually clouding my thoughts and making me indecisive, after seventeen fuckin' years of absolute confidence and dogmatic perseverance in everything I did?

I couldn't stand to be here any longer. I needed to get some air and re-center myself, or I'd lose my mind at the most minor inconvenience.

"Have a good night, Ellie." I said wistfully, heading out the door and closing it without looking back out of pure shame.

Exhausted, I went to take a quick nap in my lodge, then headed out to the pub where a city forum was declared for this evening. Before heading out the door, however, I knelt in front of my bed, elbows tucked and hands clasped in prayer. I bowed my head humbly, whispering:

"God, please watch over my mother in the after-death. Ah-men."

And with that, I stood up, cycling through a few breaths to calm my frenetic mind. I had adopted a faith in God after hearing the name and being spoken to about it at length while incapacitated in my own lodge; a recovery which took the entirety of two weeks and forced me to battle against the actively hostile cordyceps that was rampaging for control in my body. Whenever the doctors, staring wide-eyed at my half-infected, half-human almost-corpse left my bedside for the night, I would throw off the bedsheets and break off the fungal growths that sprouted from the severely injured parts of my body.

I had learned intrinsically- as if the knowledge were encoded into my DNA- that the size of the fungal growths was directly proportional to the control the cordyceps had over its host. The bigger the growths, the more sensory organs, glands, and macrophages which could effectively control, heal and evolve the host; that also meant it was able to exert more control over my body through force of will; this was, essentially, a battle of wills. Though I could feel the heart of the cordyceps center residing somewhere inside my ribcage, I had spent over seventeen years with this... thing... underneath my flesh, and had grown accustomed to it. It had every opportunity to take over my body each year and failed to do so. The only reasonable conclusion I could draw was that my organs, my body, my flesh, my cells- they must all be completely and utterly immune to the hostile growth the cordyceps exerts on other living beings, and would only be fully taken over if the fungus created extra-cellular bodies that could overrun my body's immunity.

Eugh, what a fuckin' headache of a topic. I wasn't a scientist like Dr. Logan, so I wouldn't be able to speak any further or any more clearly on this cursed blessing.

Tearing off the growths, while successful in rapidly destroying the control the fungus had over my body and mind, was undoubtedly one of the most painful experiences I had undergone; seventeen years of enduring the pains and torment of the post-apocalypse did me no favors in granting me resistance to the electric-chair shocks of agony that sizzled my body every time I managed to break off a growth.

After enduring this kind of pain for a week, and speaking with several religious members of the community, I was trapped in bed from being literally unable to move. One can only imagine the type of thoughts that roam through the head of a person who is experiencing the most terrible of trauma while simultaneously being read chapters of some book called the 'Bible' for hours on end. They thought I was going to die, and the town was hosting the better half of a funeral for my mangled body.

At some point in that atrocious journey, I had become reliant on faith in Jesus Christ and God, since their stories were pretty much the only things that preserved my sanity and soothed the racking throes of indescribable agony, and many of those stories stuck in my head long after the preachers had left; Not only did I relate with many of the stories, but I found them to be incredibly intriguing from a philosophical standpoint; they essentially filled in my need for a greater purpose in the world to some capacity.

And, of course, they gave me solace in finding death; because the amount of pain I felt in those weeks made me pray for the sweet release.

Once the last of the growths had been broken off and remained dormant in my system, I had fallen unconscious thanks to the huge release of stress from my mind. The pleasure and euphoria of finally being spared of that brain-shattering torment was too much to handle, and I remained unconscious for the better half of that day.

I unequivocally equated the acceptance of Jesus Christ and God with the blissful end of the mind-splitting agony of recovery, which promptly led to my successful conversion into the religion that was introduced to me only two weeks prior.

...

"Eugh," I remarked in contempt. "Enough reminiscing."

I opened the door to the brisk cold outside and exited.

Once I had reached the end of my fenced-in porch, I was immediately bombarded with adulation and awe by the six nearest Jacksonites, who flocked to me like moths to a light. It somewhat made sense, as I hadn't seen the majority of the town for the entire two weeks; many of the townsfolk were terrified upon finding out I was infected yet immune, and naturally were afraid to get near me for fear that I would lash out at them to snack on their flesh.

After a week of my recovery passed (and it was clear I hadn't turned into a monster), they begun to send in a mountain of gifts, notes, and letters that thanked, praised and promised me their unending gratitude and debt for life. Some of the letters were more interrogative than appreciative, often asking me questions about why the WLF came here and what caused them to siege the settlement. I didn't dare to respond; this entire siege was pretty much my fault. I had slaughtered their group, SOMEHOW left one alive, and let them track us back to this city.

However, nobody in this entire city except Joel and Ellie would be able to piece that together. As far as the city's residents were concerned, what Joel told them was gospel: he was attacked by the WLF, fought his way out, and was tracked down by them to the city. Nobody asked for context beyond those words- primarily thanks to Joel's immaculate standing in the community as a leader, man of the people, humble, and above all an incredible and invaluable veteran of the post-apocalypse.

That last title kind of faded a bit after his leg was nearly blown to shreds, but his authority in the city was unchallenged nonetheless.

"Jack!"

"By Jove, we're blessed!"

"Good Jack, please grace us!"

My face contorted in displeasure; I was beginning to understand what Ellie meant when she said the town members had changed. From the way their expressions shone like headlights upon seeing me, and the way they spoke, I was beginning to worry that I'd created some kind of cult in this community.

"Whaddya want?" Was my standard response. "I'm heading to city hall."

Their facial expressions crashed into morbid horror once my indifference reached their ears. They began to apologize profusely for seemingly no real reason, and I was becoming more irked by this ridiculous affair with each second passing.

"We didn't mean to disturb you, Jack." One of the citizens, a younger male looking to be in his 30s, said. "We just wanted to thank you for all you've done! I mean, it feels like no one is really giving you credit for just how much you've helped this city!"

You sure about that? I thought exhaustedly. After the Wyote Raid, I had first been exposed to all this praise and adulation for my "heroic" actions and practically got high off of it for the weeks afterward. Spending a lifetime of facing creatures that wanted nothing except my death and flesh had tainted my worldview, and receiving praise for what I was used to doing for my entire life was so jarring that I was actually temporarily brainwashed into thinking that I did something good.

I had forgotten, if only momentarily, that the taking of life was something which should never be praised- after witnessing it happen over, and over, and over again; it became clear to me that all we were doing was reducing the chances of humanity bouncing back to its former glory.

"Jack!" A woman of similar age replied emphatically. "Jack, how have you recovered? Is it true you can heal even fatal wounds on your body?"

"Jack." Another man sprang forward, giving me no time to answer the lady's question. "I wanted to thank you, from the bottom of my heart." He softly grabbed my shoulder, which ached from the pressure; Even if I'd mostly recovered physically, there was still a wealth of internal bruising that lined my body.

"You saved my youngest." He said in a low tone, bowing his head with a heavy, lifelong gratitude. "You saved my family. Everyone- everyone believed that those sons of bitches would be the end of us. There's not a single person in this entire city who doesn't know of what you did- turning that conflict on its head, and scattering those rat-bastards like dominoes!"

"Couldn't have said it any better myself, Winslow!" Yet another man spoke up proudly, a younger male looking to be between 18-22. "Literally everyone was shooting and fighting! It was crazy! Donnie, Jarold, Matt- dudes who've never touched a gun in their life were flooding the armory and rushing out onto the streets to fight back! Old man Ferguson and his wife Marlie, Pastor Jeremiah, Nurse Adley... your stand against the Wolves motivated people I had never imagined would pick up a gun to start fighting back!"

"If that's not the definition of a hero, then nothing qualifies for such a title." The woman next to him replied positively.

"All that comes next..." The older man named Winslow began to mutter ominously. "...Is to find out where they ran off to. We need to find their main base and smoke them out of it."

"Fuckin-A right." Said strongly another Jacksonite -a patrolman who overheard the conversation and joined in. "We gotta kill every one of those sons of bitches so they can't come back and pull the same shit again."

Get me the fuck out of here, I thought in sheer agony. I held no animosity to my fellow members of the community- I was already bonded to them through multiple ordeals, and I felt increasingly guilty over causing this entire siege to happen in the first place. Furthermore, they had earned a ton of respect from me by taking up arms and fighting for their lives and this community. If that WLF siege had happened in any settlement besides this one, I had absolutely no doubt in my mind that those residents would have bolted and abandoned their community and fellow citizens in a heartbeat. Getting sieged with mortars, breaching teams, and heavy weapons was like a unicorn in the post-apocalypse.

The reason I was angry stemmed from the fact that all of this attention was being placed on me; I DIDN'T WANT TO BE KNOWN. The more I was known, the more likely my life would be at threat for any number of reasons. If the Jacksonites started traveling to other settlements and spouting my name like gospel, it was more likely this city would be sieged again by one of the many hundreds of enemies I'd made over the course of my tumultuous life, or someone would sneak in to assassinate me, or the residents of Jackson City would find out about my past and proceed to lynch me in the town square.

This gave me all the more reason to attend this city forum.

If I attended this forum, where most of Jackson City would be in an hour or so, then I could start controlling the functions of the city. I could make Jackson City isolationist, where we only gather materials from the local region or outbound scavengers rather than trade routes with neighboring settlements so as to minimize the trade of information between cities and towns. Or, if that was too burdensome on our economy, I could order that my name not be spoken outside of Jackson City and make up some bullshit story about how I am being tracked down by criminal syndicates for some noble reason or some shit like that.

If THAT didn't work, and the Jacksonites somehow felt an absolute need to spread my name beyond the walls, I could organize for another person to be purported as "Lucky Jack" to confuse potential spies and cover my identity more readily. Anything, anything to preserve this little paradise I had now; Joel and Ellie, the only people I needed in my life. In the wake of my mother's death long ago, I needed to persevere and love the only people she cared for- including myself.

Urgh... I didn't have to think this much when I was living outside these walls. It seemed like I traded peace of mind for stability and safety. It wasn't a decision I particularly regretted.

"I must be going." I said stiffly. "...I hope to see you all at the city forum."

I forced out that last statement as a way of trying to connect with these people. Naturally, my social interaction skills had only marginally improved from zero since my time in the city.

The grateful nods and overenthusiastic "see you soon!" statements had somewhat comforted me as I proceeded down the road, but I was still uneasy with the course of events that had transpired so far.

Looking around the settlement as I navigated the roads toward the city forum, I was a bit surprised to see the progress of reconstruction on vital buildings, infrastructure and the walls. Scaffolding and stockpiles of wood and metal laid at the foundations, with multiple pulley systems orchestrating the hauling of such hefty materials; accompanied by a plethora of welding and construction equipment strewn about the ground. It gave me peace of mind that, at the very least, these people hadn't lost all hope like so many others would have in their situation.

Jackson City had gained my respect in permanency.

...

...

...

Only a minute or so after that last interaction, I came upon a group of roughly twenty teenagers and children carrying firearms in hand and in a square formation near the horse stables. For a normal person, the sight of a ten year old holding an M1 Garand would be incredibly unnerving and immediately distress-inducing. However, for a person like me, who wielded a pistol since the age of five, this was considered standard procedure in this day and age. I didn't question it as I walked by, but when they spotted me and suddenly came to attention with salutes, My concern skyrocketed- was I going to get forced into random side quests like this throughout the day?

"General Jack!" shouted the soldier in front of the organized line; an athletic-looking seventeen-year-old boy who began saluting me multiple times for literally no reason. "Sergeant Levi Keller at your command! I have organized the 4th squad of the Jacksonite Youth Army! We have been eagerly awaiting your recovery, sir!"

The fourth? I thought somberly. You mean to tell me he's got three other rascal regiments out and about the city?!

I looked between the peppy "Sergeant" Levi, who was adorned with WLF armor, and the twenty-odd scraggly teenagers and children gathered in formation behind him- all of them also wearing WLF armor.

"HAHAHAAHA!"

I couldn't help but laugh aloud at this sudden realization, almost doubling over in sheer amusement. These children and teenagers had scavenged and stripped the dead bodies of WLF members, painted over the insignias, and wore them to roleplay as soldiers. There was something truly and deeply poetic in this that I wasn't seeing.

I winced in the midst of my laughter as the soreness of recovery still haunted my nerves, standing straight once more and bearing witness to the confused faces that gazed at me like servants to a god.

"Sorry, I thought of something funny." I lied shamelessly. Considering the amount of information I was learning about this city's development, and the pending city forum I needed to attend, I simply had little time to fully comprehend everything I was witnessing and realizing in this short period of time. Those two weeks in recovery had battered me completely, so I was simply in no mental state to try and figure out all of these chain reaction events and how to deal with them.

"Oh... of course, sir!" Levi quickly bounced back, saluting again. "I must update you. The city hasn't had any intruders or Wolves since the two weeks you have been in recovery. Thanks to the loot we found on the bodies of the attackers, we managed to get a ton of ammunition for training and live fire exercises. Since many of the volunteers were taken out in the attack, we have had to fill in for security."

I nodded morosely. It was good to be informed on the state of the community, but it wasn't a good report by any means. Having children and teenagers man the walls meant that this community had just barely scraped by that siege, and the casualties were making themselves apparent in the aftermath.

"Right. Well, carry on, grunts." I said dismissively, saluting sardonically. I was bemused to see them return the salutes proudly, marching down the road with weapons in hand. Sighing, I turned on my heel and proceeded towards the forum. Yet, before I decided on that completely, my eyes caught on to the Lazy Bison; the only pub that managed to stay fully intact throughout the bombardments.

I could most certainly get a little liquored up before I approached the teeming forum. Swiveling on one leg, I swaggered through the saloon-type doors to catch a buzz before my big arrival.