Chapter XVII: Riposte (Part IV)
Hey. Author here. To really capture the 'I'm in the middle of a warzone' vibe, I'd recommend finding a 'war sounds' ambience on YouTube, then copy-pasting that 4-5 times and you'll get a feel for the intensity. That's all. Enjoy the chapter, and always leave a review if you were satisfied with the substance!
A momentary flashback- 5 minutes before the siege began...
ELLIE
"YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES NOW!"
I peered down with contempt at the spokesperson for the WLF, fiddling with my bolt rifle nervously. I hadn't a fucking clue how these bastards managed to track us down, and managed to bring an army with them- all the way from Washington. They were determined bastards, to say the least.
"TAKE YOUR TIME REFLECTING ON THE CONDITIONS! WE ASK ONLY FOR TWO PEOPLE, AND NO BLOOD NEEDS TO BE SHED! JOEL MILLER, AND THAT LITTLE PSYCHOPATH THAT SLAUGHTERED EIGHT OF OUR PEOPLE!"
My grip on the rifle tightened, whitening my knuckles and fueling my outrage.
"Motherfucker." I hissed.
There was no world where I handed over Joel and Jack to this cocksucker who worked with the people that tried to kill my fa-...
My...
...
I gazed at Joel, who was peering over the ramparts himself, and using his radio to coordinate with the division leaders. The magnitude of the situation I was in became acutely horrifying; I didn't want Joel to die. What the hell were we doing here, at the front gates?!
I was still deeply resentful of him for having lied to me about what happened at the Firefly hospital, when the surgery on my brain for its immunity almost happened. I was horrified when he'd told me that he'd stopped the surgery and killed all that tried to stop him. At the time I found out, I felt an unexplainable agony; bottomless guilt- the thought that humanity could have been saved from the cure made through my sacrifice, and the lives of all those Joel killed, hung over my reality; I felt betrayed more than I'd ever been in my life.
But after nearly losing Joel, my mindset was completely upended. I realized how much Joel meant to me in every aspect -as a father figure and as someone I loved from the bottom of my heart- and only then did I begin to comprehend the reasonings behind Joel's actions at that hospital. The lengths one would go to keep their loved one alive. In my mind, I could see another path in front of me- one where Joel had been killed, and I spent my days tracking down all of the WLF members that were involved in it, leaving everyone behind to seek a hellish life. A horrible, empty existence that I was deeply glad did not prevail.
All of that, and all of this now, was thanks... to Jack.
...
He was... I couldn't explain it. I felt an eternal gratitude to him for saving Joel's life, for saving my life, and for saving the town from a giant raiding party. He was just... indescribable. How he managed to persevere through all of that and come out alive- it made me wonder what kind of insane life he led before coming into the settlement. The feats I'd seen from him were far beyond that of what I'd call "human"; and only after seeing his character flaws did I feel relief that he wasn't some kind of bioengineered superhuman.
In the first weeks I'd been around him, I could see he was clearly antisocial- he barely contributed to conversations and didn't have regular interactions with anyone outside of work and patrol. He was also insanely paranoid- frequently looking over his shoulder every few minutes and skeptical of every new thing he encountered and doubting every word said by others. At times, he even had wild emotional outbursts when he thought he was alone- one night, while patrolling the eastern walls, I noticed Jack trying to stack hay in a pile against the walls during one of his work details. When the stacks collapsed from uneven placement, Jack lost his shit and assaulted the poor hay bales a number of times before resigning himself back to stacking. It was one of the more humorous moments I'd seen from him, but many of these outbursts came from small inconveniences, which worried me; his explosive anger came off as mentally unhinged rather than a simple momentary frustration.
Yet strangely... I was very comfortable around him. Maybe it was because he'd saved my life once already, or because of his relative age range, or maybe because we were both immune and shared that uniqueness. But unlike pretty much everyone else in Jackson, he was just one of a kind. His behavior, his thinking, his personality, and his motivations- I felt I'd only been scratching the surface, and what I'd experienced from him already was fascinating. He was intriguing- and yet, a lot of his behavior reminded me of...
Bill...
And... Joel, when we'd first met.
"Ellie-"
I felt Joel's hand graze my shoulder.
"-I need you to go get Jack and bring him to City Hall. It's gonna be the triage center."
"Sure thing. You're coming with me."
Joel shot me a look of heightened frustration- clearly stressed by the settlement-wide showdown. And, for a moment, I saw a glimpse of something else in his eyes- something malevolent. I already knew it was the speech from that WLF speaker on the ground that'd sparked this look- the old Joel.
"Please don't do this right now, Ellie."
"Joel, there's no fuckin' way I'm leaving you here, with your shot leg, at the center of all this shit."
Joel heaved an angry sigh, spending little time to weigh his options.
"Alright- if I think bullets are about to start flying, we'll head over to Jack. I need to keep an eye on Tommy and make sure he doesn't get himself shot in the 'center of all this shit', as you put it."
TOMMY
I watched in teeth-gritting apprehension as Jack suddenly left the small lot, stumbling dogmatically toward the nearest alleyway, and heading right in the direction of the roaring gunfire of the breached north wall. How the hell was I gonna keep him alive and not get noticed by him at the same time? This was a fool's errand- but I couldn't think of any other way in the seconds I had to act.
"Is it clear?" Jesse whispered behind me, staying vigilant on the rear guard. I realized if we proceeded through here, Jesse would see the bodies and connect the dots, so I improvised.
"Let's circle back and around- this area's got too many alleys. We could easily get ambushed."
"Didn't Jack just head through here? What if we lose him?"
I ignored his prodding question, pointing firmly in the opposite direction.
We circled around the lot through a circuit of alleyways, proceeding toward the north wall; where I could only hope Jack was heading.
BRRT!
I flinched in shock, my head snapping around to see Jesse having gunned down a WLF soldier that'd circled around the corner.
"Fuck!" Jesse muttered under his breath, clearly shaken by the near-death event.
"Let's pick up the pace!" I stated firmly. "If he's got friends nearby, they'll gun it here!"
We hurried through the continuous corridor of alleyways, and only after a few minutes did we finally realize we were nearing the northern wall- evidenced by the growing noise of gunfire and yelling.
After turning left in an alleyway, my eyes witnessed a series of events that left me paralyzed with disbelief-
Words fail, even now, to describe the level of violence and bloodlust I witnessed that day. With my limited vocabulary, the only way I could possibly describe it is chronologically...
The moment I turned the corner on that alleyway, my eyes opened up to see the apex of the siege's firefighting. The massive open plaza was practically littered with corpses and stained with the dark-red taint of their life fluids. Bullets flew in every direction imaginable, and explosions rocked the huge open field with disarray, choking the air with particles of dirt and gunpowder. Jacksonites and WLF alike were cowering behind whatever cover they could find, be it in the form of shrapnel-shredded park benches, bushes, the corners of buildings, lightposts- whatever would provide even a semblance of cover against the sea of hot metal raging in the center of the plaza.
Jesse and I were quick to scramble for-
SHIT! THERE WAS NO COVER NEARBY!
Instinctively, I flopped onto my stomach, with Jesse quickly following, and we crawled our way to a quaint deli store with (shattered) glass windows. Fidgeting the door open as some stray bullets collided with the nearest pavement, I crept inside with Jesse and quickly swept the place with my rifle for enemies. Relieved to find none, I barricaded the back door with a nearby fridge, then crouch-walked back towards the front, where Jesse was peering over the tabletop to watch the firefight.
"Do you see Jack?" I whispered to him.
"WHAT?" Jesse shouted back- and I quickly realized (obviously) that the increase in gunfire was so abrupt that it had become deafening to everyone within and near the courtyard of death.
"I SAID- DO YOU SEE JACK?" I shouted at him with heightened frustration, seeing as we were in some fucked circumstances- I was naturally stressed out.
Jesse peered over the countertop again, looking back and shaking his head.
"I COULD RECOGNIZE THAT RAMBO FROM A MILE AWAY- HE'S DEFINITELY NOT..."
His words seemed to fall off as his eyes gazed to the left, and I naturally peeked the same to see what had caused him to falter.
Jack had entered the fringe of combat with alarming speed, flanking a group of entrenched Wolves from behind and slaughtering them with horrific ease. I had seen it myself; the moment he'd stepped into the blood-laden soil and identified the first Wolf by their unique outfit, he slithered up behind him and slammed his knife through their throat, snaking it out and immediately slicing the necks of the two nearest Wolves with dogmatic precision. The first Wolf to notice Jack's killing spree was promptly shot in the head by his handgun, followed by the two other Wolves who were just now turning their heads away from the mainstay of combat.
Watching the fight from afar created a movie-like effect for me; The urge to preserve Jack's life gradually faded, not because I didn't want to see him live past this siege, but because I was beginning to wonder if he could even be killed.
Just as the entrenched Wolves fell silent to Jack, I shuddered and gasped multiple times- almost unable to stand upright. What the fuck? Was that my... nephew? This killer, who moved with such experience and hapless rage that even my subconscious couldn't conjure the thought of seeing him harmed?
I shook my head in anxiety; why was I so horrified? In any circumstance that wasn't the apocalypse, this would be beyond life-shattering; so of course this would be the one scenario where his bloodlust and behavior was... advantageous for our survival.
Oh, god... my stomach turned on itself as I mentally tried to justify these godless actions to myself. If this were anyone that wasn't related to me, I would have been struck with awe and excitement rather than the horror, guilt and nausea I was being overwhelmed with right now.
"H-!"
I gasped once more as Jack's rabid and bloodshot eyes glanced in my direction, spotting me from only a few dozen meters away. Only one second passed, but it was enough to see unimaginable torment writhing visibly in his enlarged pupils.
After that second, I witnessed something. Something that would make the devil himself tremble with fear.
{{{{ MUSIC: "AMV", BY LIL DARKIE }}}}
Jack launched forward from the corpse-held position, singling out any Wolf that came across his warpath. The first unfortunate soul in his sights was practically tackled by Jack, who then slammed the butt of his handgun into the dazed soldier's face, breaking his teeth and nose before shoving the knife through his eye and into his brain. As if possessing some divine foresight, Jack ducked a second before a stream of bullets sailed over his head and torso, and he honed in on the assailant, another Wolf who screamed in terror as Jack slithered through the snow without hesitation and slung his knife, which embedded between the eyes of that same Wolf.
Before the body had time to plummet to the ground, Jack sprinted forward, gripping the handle while simultaneously shooting another Wolf a few dozen feet behind him. He wrenched the knife out of the corpse's head, then performed a fucking backflip as another stream of bullets flew into the ground and air where his body was supposed to be microseconds ago.
Landing on his feet, Jack dove for a line of cover as several dozen Wolves immediately noticed his violent-heralding presence and unloaded their magazines in his direction with haste. Jack immediately begun crawling behind the cover, taking potshots at any and all Wolves he could sight in his limited field of view. Once the storm of bullets ended abruptly, signaling a need to reload, Jack popped up from over the cover and made a beeline for his attackers, firing at them as he closed the gap.
The sheer insanity of his actions were so demoralizing that most of the Wolves were fumbling with their magazines or caught in a momentary state of panic; and a few of the others began scrambling away in screeching terror.
Jack reached their position before most of them had finished reloading. The few that had done so raised their rifles in haste, to their misfortune; their panicked psyche led their rifle barrels firing wildly, almost all of the shots missing the demon closing in on them. Almost all of them.
-BANG-BANG- THWIPPPP- CRACK-CRACK!
I cried out in horror as two bullets slammed into Jack's shoulder and abdomen; evidenced by the blood spray as the bullets tore clean through his body. Yet despite being hit by relatively high-caliber ammunition, Jack had no reaction that wasn't sheer apoplexy aimed at his opponents, apparently unfazed by the physical trauma. He had descended upon them finally, and their screams were cut short by the sound of distinct knife slices and gunshots. He stood over their corpses, a plastered grin of madness and bundled stress laden upon his blood-soaked face.
"What the fuck is happening right now..." I muttered incredulously. Jesse mirrored my sentiment, for he too was struck still by the magnificently malevolent sight beholden to everyone in the plaza.
"DIE YOU FUCKING MONSTER!"
A guttural scream erupted over the battlefield as a horde of WLF flooded into the plaza, reinforcements for their rapidly-dying kinsmen. And yet by the end of that Wolf's sentence, Jack had already reached the first of the charging soldiers at the forefront, slamming full-force into him and disrupting the charge as the WLF gunmen stumbled to the ground like a domino effect.
No one could match the dexterity and nimble movement of Jack; he was, naturally, the first to spring to his feet. His gun barrel took aim and executed each of the fumbling Wolves on the ground like he was pouring liquor over a line of shot glasses. Smooth, efficient, faultless.
A few of the Wolves at the back of the charge had managed to get up in time, raising their rifles with machine-like quickness and hip-firing them at Jack; he was close enough to warrant such a panicked response, but I could see Jack had already anticipated their attack. He dashed for the cover of a building corner to his right, just as the Wolves unloaded at the shadow of his fleeting presence.
The remainder of those Wolves were so desperately focused on taking out Jack that they had somehow forgotten they were on a battlefield with numerous other foe. Several gunshots rang out from the barrels of nearby Jacksonites and the Wolves fell dead into the snow. With perfect timing, Jack bolted out of cover the moment that last Wolf collapsed, and immediately made a beeline across the flanks of Wolves who were mostly grouped on the eastern side of the plaza and entrenched themselves.
In battle, entrenchment was necessary to gain good cover and assist reinforcements with avoiding bullets, and these Wolves had come with fucking shovels to dig mounds for their positions. This was perhaps the only time where holding the line was the worst decision imaginable. Jack descended upon the Wolves, ambushing them from their left side and tearing through their huddled and terror-riddled groups with brutal efficiency.
The first group he'd ambushed was completely unaware of his presence, as they had focused on pinning down a machine-gun nest in one of the town buildings on the western part of the field, where most of the Jacksonites were holding the line. Jack entered their entrenched position like a silent viper and opened the throats of three Wolves before the rest turned their rifles on him in horror. Gunshots rang out, with only Jack emerging from the shallow foxhole and immediately pouncing on the next group to his right. I watched him unload his magazine, throw it at the closest Wolf, and then threw the handgun itself at another Wolf who was about to raise his rifle at him. Jack then took up the disoriented Wolf's rifle and shot his head off.
This group of Wolves was made wary of Jack's presence the moment he obliterated their neighboring squad, but still this was not enough to keep them alive. It had taken them moments to process the fact that an absolute lunatic killer was moving up their flank with lightning speed, and those moments were just enough for Jack to slip into their midst and eviscerate them. Before he'd moved up to the third group of Wolves, I had just enough time to realize that he wasn't enjoying this slaughter-fest and taking his time with killing the assaulters. He was slicing their necks or shooting them in the head for the most part, and leaving their writhing bodies behind to visit torment upon his next targets.
He was killing them efficiently.
Faces both friend and foe alike were aghast at the sheer havoc being wrought by one person alone. But each side had vastly different reactions to this monstrous turn of events.
"HOLY SHIT! FUCK YEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! KILL 'EM AAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!"
The Jacksonites who first bore witness to Jack's unhinged and maelstrom-like killing spree sprung into deadly action with terrifying gusto, as if infected by the same mindless fervor plaguing Jack; with all of the enemy's attention almost singlehandedly focused on Jack alone, the Jacksonites began to run and gun, sprinting between vestiges of cover and peeking over to take potshots or firing while on the move to suppress the enemy.
Jack was like an exceedingly clever and malicious beast, struck by madness and genius alike as he shot between groups of Wolves like a fast-acting toxin and ended their lives with scarily-quick efficiency. At this point, reality had become a dizzy action movie for me; there was no other way to cope with this sight, especially knowing who the main actor of this gruesome screenplay was.
One silver lining I found in this gorefest was the simple fact that Jack was knowingly not targeting those who weren't wearing the armor and distinctly-unique outfits of the Wolves that had attacked our city. This alone was enough to give me stringent hope that Jack would be able to regain his sanity after this sordid affair came to an end. Though I wasn't sure if I would be regaining my own sanity after the shit I'd just seen.
The tide of battle quickly turned in the Jacksonites' favor, and I was enthralled by how fervently this seemingly-stagnant and standstilled conflict had been resolved in a matter of mere seconds.
HOLY FUCKIN' SHIT!
I had such a timely revelation...! Morale was the determinant factor, barring monstrous exceptions like Jack, that decided how a battlefield would end. In such a bleak apocalypse like this, I'd rarely gotten to experience large-scale battles like this (thankfully), and seeing the motion and aura of battle in plain view was perhaps one of the most enlightening and jarring moments I'd had in my life so far.
I had physically witnessed the change in battle; the momentum of manpower, and the sheer force behind a single, brazen individual who could break the spirits of their foe and send the morale of their comrades skyrocketing.
It was pretty shit that I had this awesome revelation while watching firsthand as my nephew slaughtered people by the dozens, but the lackluster familial connection gave me distance between us, something I desperately needed so I wouldn't fall into shock and get killed by the enemy.
Seeing Jack sprint off at the forefront of the Jacksonites' resurging push toward the front wall, where the initial action took place, was enough to propel me into motion. I dashed over the cover, slinging my rifle over my back with a concentration on getting as close to Jack as possible. No matter how invulnerable he seemed, Jack was susceptible to death the same as everyone else. In fact, I was still traumatized by how he'd tanked two rifle bullets to the body and pressed forward as if he were completely unabated.
The adrenaline was surging through every vein in my body; euphoric fervor surged through my mind after glimpsing the fantastical sight of Jack in combat, and my limbs propelled on their own to aid in the fight. I made an oath to Joel. He'd told me of his actions at the Firefly hospital, and I'd never seen such a menacing look on his face before in my entire life. I hadn't believed him when he first told me. Now, after seeing the sheer carnage wrought by his offspring...
Fuck.
I had to keep Jack alive, at any cost. Or Joel would prove a greater threat to this city than anything else.
JESSE
I am the leader of the patrol services for this city. I have killed dozens, if not hundreds of Infected, Clickers, Shamblers and even infected animals; something Lucky Jack had shown to be a very real threat since his introduction into the camp. I have briefed many, many volunteers of this city on the dangers that wandered outside these giant walls. I've spent a good amount of my time here preserving the safety and security of this city which I held so near and dear to my heart.
Never before have I felt so humbled once Jack came into the foray.
The exact moment he had entered combat in this hellish field of blood and smoke, I was paralyzed by his combat prowess. And somehow, in the same seconds with which I watched his woesome ways, I had felt an unspeakable surge of battlelust that carried my feet into following after him when he headed with a one-track mind towards the front gate, on the far eastern side of camp where the whole shitshow had originated.
He was being followed by the hundreds; most of the city's fighting had taken place in that same square plaza, and once the stalemate had been broken there was no longer a need to hold a defensive position. Stray Jacksonites with various forms of firearms quickly joined in the surge towards the front gate, dozens of rifles firing at any sign of an enemy. This was certainly a moment where uniquely-identified outfits worked against the opposition, as anyone wearing clothe of the Washington 'Liberation' Front who was glimpsed by this horde of maniacs was quickly peppered with bullets and left as an afterthought.
It was an ever-moving horde of fanatically devoted Jacksonites; something akin to the books about Alexander the Great that I'd read about in my younger years. From just a simple glance, I could tell the fellow citizens around me were transformed mind, body and soul into ravaging lunatics with guns the moment they had encountered such a bizarre icon of grim hope like Lucky Jack.
We came upon the front gate after a few minutes, with Jack leading the charge unknowingly against an enemy-infested breaching point. It mattered to him none.
He practically dove into the hail of gunfire that awaited him the moment his nightmarish expression rendered into the pupils of those unnerved WLF soldiers. Bullets streamed into his body, flooding into the snow behind him and sizzling with searing heat. Then he straightened his back, and I could peer through the bullet holes to the other side of his body.
From that point on, nothing made much sense to me. I had cackled at the seeming-immortality of this one-man army as a coping mechanism, simply unable to cope with the reality of someone like Jack still standing after the parade of ammo that had eviscerated his torso. With every step he took after, I questioned my own sanity and competency in recollecting events. It was beyond ridiculous, the mere fact that I was bearing witness to this spectacle. But no matter how jarring the reality was, I'd be utterly determined to get these scum-sucking sons of bitches out of my CITY!
Yelling, determined, I hopped cover and followed Tommy.
The run to the front gate was nothing short of chaotic and impulsive. Jacksonites shouted such profanities and slurs at their foe that I'd grimaced at what they might do if any of the enemy were captured alive by this point. We flooded into the next plaza-like area with little time wasted. Lucky Jack crashed into a bulk of WLF , making mincemeat of their bodies with knife and gun alike, turning them into pulp for the Jacksonites that arrived only seconds later. Jack's body and legs were riddled with bullet holes, yet blood hardly poured from his wounds, and his carnal rage showed no signs of dissipation. Even his movements remained at full-strength and unnaturally precise when he masterfully wove himself between the ranks of WLF and massacred them in the confusion.
The wave of Jacksonites on his heels were nothing short of ferociously fanatical, dedicated solely to fighting alongside the nigh-invincible hero that led the charge with a drug-addled and fiery passion for bloodlust. The view I held of Jack was obliterated; I had thought him a stoic long-time survivor of this world's apocalyptic elements, who'd managed to stay alive by avoiding the confrontations and jumping on the right opportunities. Now I wasn't even sure if he was human at all.
No, I mean I really didn't think he was human. I had witnessed him take two full magazines' worth of rifle ammo and persist forward. What the fuck was happening? Was I dreaming? No matter how fantastical this world was, with all of its zombies and zombie animals and zombie juggernauts with ranged capabilities, getting shot that many times would have ended most creatures on this Earth.
That wasn't luck. Or maybe it was. My first thought was that he'd been infected by some strain of the virus that granted him extremely durable skin, or some kind of... regeneration? Holy fucking shit I couldn't process this quasi-fuck of events right now, in the middle of war hell.
I emptied my mind of all ponderings, focusing purely on my surroundings. I tasted the brittle air, felt the coldness of the snow on my exposed forearms, and gauged the contrast of this beautiful white landscape with the gorefest ladening the streets with steaming-hot organs and frozen bodies. I needed to center myself, and regain my sanity. Being around Jack was like a physical drug, and I needed level-headedness to stay alive and win this siege.
Focus. Focus.
Slapping my helmet multiple times, I slogged through the snow and over the bodies of WLF soldiers and fellow brothers and sisters in arms. Guilt and anger grew in proportion with the more faces I recognized on these somber fields.
Ginny. Frank. Heather. Aaron. Xavier. Hannah. Maisley.
"Fucking motherfuckers. Fuckin..." I muttered maliciously under my breath, cursing these WLF scum of the earth for taking the lives of my friends and neighbors. With each face I saw, my rage broiled and my excitement to see Jack violently murder these sorry bastards grew immensely.
Times changed. Outlooks changed quickly. In the single minute I'd spent getting across this field and catching up with Jack's horde, I went from viewing him with fear and apprehension to seeing him as the hero who would turn this battle on its head. From the moment I'd peered over those walls in the first minutes before the siege, I'd knew we were utterly outmatched. I had expected to see my city fall around me, despair gnawing at my psyche for the rest of my short-lived life.
Jack had saved me. He had saved us all. Our lives, however diminished or taken, would be avenged and safeguarded by this divinely-protected young man who had joined us only a few weeks ago. Amazing. Astounding. Awesome.
Utterly fucking insane.
I saw the rear vestiges of Jack's frenzied group, and I could tell they were about to clash with the front gate- where no doubt a massive number of WLF would be entrenched to cover any potential retreat.
The final battle was nearing. And I would be there to watch it be won.
