Chapter XVII: Riposte (Part V)
A few days before the siege...
(Music: "I Might Float", by Syd Matters)
JOEL
Sat on the porch of my Jacksonian home, I peered out over the first streets and venues I could glimpse from my view as I casually swayed on my rocking chair. Neighbors traded goods or lent household items to one another for convenience and kindness. Families walked through the streets, basking in the hanging lights and serene nightlife of this quaint little city of survivors. Children ran around, dogs barked carefree, seniors meandered around and chatted with the stationed guardsmen and women about the niceties of life.
It was all so calming. But my mind was nothing except a torrent of worry and anxiety. My son... Jack... was the sole focus of my thoughts. There were so many things I was thinking about him, about myself, about... Tess. A pang of sorrow emanated throughout my body. I was so regretful of so many things long past. I'd lost everything, over and over again, cursed to walk this earth and rot in the miseries that haunted me.
It took me five years and I still failed to get over Tess- then along came her... our son. One gut-shot after the other.
Sara. Tess. Ellie's trust. I couldn't lose anything further. I couldn't bear any more of these cruel twists and turns of life's path.
"Joel."
I flinched as the sound of Jack's voice permeated the silent air. He had emerged from the left, appearing in sight once he started climbing the stairs up to the porch.
"...Jack." I muttered. I was lackluster. Even after the few weeks he'd spent here so far, I didn't know how to talk with him, and I'd barely spent any time sitting down to converse. It mostly the fault of myself; I had been in recuse out of pure shock of finding out his existence. I had missed seventeen years of his life. And I hadn't even known that... that...
God, help me. What an atrocious father I was.
I wanted to hug him; to keep him close and talk through his worries and fears. I felt the same murderous rage that had consumed me in the Firefly hospital, aimed at the world. I felt betrayal and deep resentment of Tess, for keeping this boy and knowledge of his existence from me.
My son... My son!
Jack's eyes glanced toward mine, and shifted away quickly. My heart ached for death, for it would have been a relief compared to this torment of the mind. That I hadn't taken the time to properly sit down with and speak to Jack stabbed at me even more so.
He took a seat in the chair next to me, the first time I'd ever seen him act so casual; his behavior usually consisted of standing nearest to some form of cover and checking his peripherals every thirty seconds for invisible enemies to come jumping out at him. His mannerisms ached familiarly of my younger self, at the beginning of this prolonged nightmarish world. Even now, he cradled his Beretta on his pant leg as he sharpened away with the knife and whetstone.
It tore at my heart to see my... my boy acting like this. Like an aged war veteran who had never known peace. That was the worst possible outcome I could have imagined for my offspring. I could hardly relate to him. Even so, I could see myself in those eyes of his. I could see myself in his mannerisms, his behavior, his talking and thinking. It led me to think about my daughter.
It hurt. Immensely. My chest ached. I wanted to sob twenty-five years' worth of sorrow and grief. A relapsing and acute misery.
"You know," I said, clearing the air to say a few things I felt were necessary for him to hear. "Your... mother's last name was 'Servopoulos'."
Jack raised his head, then moved naught for a few moments; I could see him visibly shaking, before returning to stillness and resuming his work.
"Your mother... Tess... she never told me about you."
"I know." Jack said forcefully, his voice tearing up. "I know... you don't need to explain. I... I don't hold any grudges against you."
Hearing those words shed a mountains' worth of anxiety and repressive fear that had been sitting on my shoulders since our first meeting.
"I'm glad..." I said, looking remorsefully at the back of his thick fur coat. "...to hear that."
Silence...
...
...
...
"Went on a patrol today." Jack muttered, just audible enough for me to catch with my ear. "With four guys and two girls. One of the guys was bragging about his aim with a rifle, like he was planning to shoot a buck or something."
"Yeah." I responded softly. "You sometimes get volunteers like that."
"Well, he wasn't very aware of his surroundings. Almost got mauled by an Infected mountain lion, we had to call off the patrol and drag his sorry ass back here before he bled out. Heh."
I felt a miasma of depression cloud my mind. That this boy, not even eighteen years old, was speaking about a horrible event like this with such cruel indifference. What was I to do now? My only remaining kin by blood, scarred and wounded over his entire childhood and teen days. My own childhood felt like ages ago, yet I could still recall the carefree days of running around in the backyard, visiting friends' houses, going hunting with my parents, breaking up Tommy's fights at the bars, and occasionally skipping out on school classes to visit the arcade or mall with friends.
Jack... I can't express how horribly your cards have been dealt. That you never got to experience childhood innocently, nor ever feel the warmth of a home or the encouraging words of a family member. To never experience a friends' night out; a fun vacation or road trip; to receive an education and make friendships at school; to invite friends over to the house for a sleepover; to have a normal dating experience and to enjoy the beauty of the world carefree and happy.
All of this and so much more, robbed from this young man since his inception. A father and mother, torn from him and given back only a crumpled half of what he deserved in parenting. Even if I couldn't give him all those things now, the least I could do...
Was to open up to him. To make him feel safe, and secure here. To give him a life he could enjoy.
"You know..." I started. Agonizing over how to broach this uncomfortable silence, my eyes drifted from the town to Jack's face. "Few weeks ya been here, and we ain't talked much. Not much at all. If you have questions..."
I watched as Jack's face perked up, placing his whetstone and knife on the table to his right.
"...I see. I have a few." He responded, almost emphatically. "What is the chain of command for this city's military, and who leads it from the civil side? I haven't seen anyone that shows authority to lead except Marie and Tommy, but it seems stupid to have only two person in charge of defenses, supply, management. Also, why haven't you all added spikes to the top of your walls? Anyone with rope and a metal hook could climb over, no problem-"
"I- was more referring to questions related to us, Jack."
Jack closed his mouth, peering at me with an unsettling stillness. He sighed stoically, resuming his knife work.
"I already know you're my father. What else is there to ask?"
Despite his curt response, I could sense yearning in that tone, and leaned back in my chair.
"You're... seventeen now, right?" I asked tentatively. I had already heard from Ellie about his age, which he revealed to her near their meeting point, but I was desperate to broach a topic to get a conversation going. Conversing with one's biological son didn't matter much if they were acting like a complete stranger since the beginning, and that familial connection didn't instantly connect just upon meeting alone.
I needed to talk with him. Get to know him. He was my son.
Jack nodded in response to the question.
"Yup."
...
The dialogue was struggling so far. I sat in hesitation for a few moments, thinking furiously of another topic-broaching question. I didn't want to talk about his past, not now. That was for an intimate occasion, later down the line.
"How've you been... enjoying the city so far?"
Jack stopped in his work again, staring at the ground intensely, which concerned me- until I realized he was simply in deep thought of how to answer.
"It's nice. Peaceful. Quiet. No cults, slavery or cannibalism- that's a plus. The defenses concern me, they're not ready for a siege. Other than that, I can't complain. The only other thing that bothers me is how soft everyone here is."
"I see... why do you think they're... 'soft'?"
Jack gestured to the town.
"Because they're relaxed. Look at 'em. Hanging up bright lights that shine across the entire valley, blaring loud-ass music across the town, taking walks at NIGHT. Having... sex!"
I was not deaf to the stuttering and embarrassed intonation of his words when Jack spoke of intercourse. He scoffed, sheathing his knife and placing the whetstone in his backpack. It pleased me to see that, as I was growing weary of the constant grinding of the blade.
"They act as if they've never been outside these walls, even the adults and old fucks. They have become soft."
"...Jack, I think you need to adjust your way of talkin'."
Jack gave me the side eye.
"You heard me. You need to... smooth out your speakin' mannerisms. I can't imagine there was much need for civil speakin' when you were growin' up, but now that you're in a community, you'll have a better time with everyone if ya speak a bit more... nicely. "
I struggled not to use the word 'soft' after hearing his apparent dislike for the concept.
Jack stared bemusedly at me.
"I... see. Okay."
"Don' look at me like that, sonny." I said jokingly.
"Like wuh?" He responded, crossing his eyes and sticking his tongue out.
We both chuckled; another small moment I appreciated to the bottom of my heart. A comfortable silence fell over the porch for a good minute.
"Who is Ellie to you?"
The question from Jack surprised me, though not all that much. Though he hid it well, I could tell quite clearly that he'd developed a significant crush on Ellie the moment he'd stepped into town. Anytime she was present, his eyes were glued to her, listening intently to every word she muttered. Despite his war-weary demeanor, Jack showed all the signs of teenage passion that could be seen by any competent father.
It felt... odd. Having one's biological son develop a crush on one's surrogate daughter. Not a comfortable experience, but I was just glad that Jack had the capability for such innocent love in the first place.
"We met around five years ago." I responded softly. "I was supposed to deliver her for Marlene, Firefly's leader at the time. A lot went down, and I ended up takin' her back here to Jackson City."
"Hmm. Interesting." Jack muttered. "Sounds like you cut out all of the substance of this story."
I chuckled slyly, trying to hide my dread of discussing the past as I had with Ellie. Her expression, the words she spoke when I revealed that crucial lie... it was nightmarish. I hesitated to tell it once again... especially with my only biological son.
But after 17 years of lying in the dark, I wasn't going to be the one to keep him there for any longer, especially on any topic concerning myself. I, more than anyone else, owed him these explanations.
"Well... turns out the Fireflies were interested in her immunity case. Said she was the most likely to give them a chance for a cure, or vaccine to this whole thing. Said that she'd... she'd need to have brain surgery."
"And that would've killed her. I assume."
I nodded somberly; peering over and seeing Jack now fully attentive to the story, having placed his knife and whetstone on the railing of the porch. Though his eyes remained set on the horizon, I could see his ears perking in anticipation.
"And this chance of getting a cure wasn't guaranteed?" He muttered.
"...No." I whispered, unable to bring my voice to a greater volume. "We'd... gone to a Colorado university. Found tapes, files there that... diminished the hope for a cure."
An uncomfortable stillness sat in the air for a minute, only broken by the occasional scraping of blade on whetstone.
"Ellie seems like someone worth destroying a cure for."
I was perplexed by this morbid compliment made by Jack; but it somewhat relieved me in a way. I could tell he was being humorous, and he was starting to open up more of himself as the conversation went on.
I chuckled low, trying to break down the tense feeling in the air.
"Yeah, she does. She is. Seems like you're enjoying her quite a bit, yourself."
I smiled in sly satisfaction when Jack's cheeks burned hot-red in contrast to his hardened face.
"I am in love with her."
The brash honesty shocked me, but I was nonetheless impressed with his ability to be so straightforward like that.
"Love is a strong word, Jack. And..."
A thousand thoughts ran through my head in those fleeting moments. How was I to tell him about Dina? I wasn't sure whether or not he knew about her, but if he didn't, I was dreading having to be the bearer of bad news. This wouldn't help to grow the bond I wanted between us. But I wasn't going to watch my son be strung along by infatuation without knowing what it entailed.
"Jack, she's... in a relationship right now."
"That's a way of putting it." Jack muttered ominously.
He already knows, I thought to myself; partly relieved and partially concerned. Before I could ponder more on the matter, Jack changed the subject.
"Those... Fireflies... were going to sacrifice Ellie for a pipe dream, it sounds like."
Yes, I thought furiously. I realized just how at odds I was with my feelings. Five years spent in relative peace, and plenty of time to reflect on the past. I was broiling with guilt, shame, misery; and simultaneously indignation, relief and joy. I had done terrible things in my 25 years since the apocalypse began, but having these five years of returning to some kind of normalcy of civilization; getting to see Ellie grow up and relax, to feel safe in an environment where death wasn't hiding around every corner; to once more become a part of a community, after decades of living in solidarity and loose alliances made purely out of self-preservation...
It exhausted me. Life had been taking its toll for such an inconceivable amount of time. The acute agony and self-hatred from losing a daughter, the slow toil of surviving for seemingly no reason, the tearing loss of Tess and countless others on my journeys, the day-to-day near-death encounters in the wilderness and during travel, the inability to have even the time and ease to enjoy the environment, the warmth of the sun on one's skin, the cool bristle of wind on flesh.
When I was in that damned hospital, all I could think about... was giving Ellie the life she deserved. Of giving her what was taken from my own daughter. A cure? For who? The psychopaths, killers, brutes, and cold-hearted gunmen that made up the majority of this world now? What kind of world would we be returning to?
Why... why would I give those scum-sucking pieces of shit... a chance for a better life, in exchange for Ellie's?
Fuck them. I had no regrets about what I'd done in that hospital.
"And what did you do?"
"...Huh?'
The question from Jack upended my somber train of thought. The wind died down almost on queue, and Jack turned to face me; his eyes clouded over with morbid fascination and violent expectation.
"What did you do... when they tore her from your grasp?"
TOMMY
Legions of Jacksonites swarmed the streets, incensed by Jack's tidal wave of underdog fighting that was miraculously scattering the WLF foe like a house of cards. It was the psyche of humans that led to this effect; faced with a singular battle that turned completely on its head, soldiers would fall back and trigger the minds of their allies to do the same- no rational human being would take fighting odds that didn't go well into their favor.
At least, SANE human beings, I thought anxiously, stealing a glance at the maniac leading this charge against said terrible fighting odds.
Yet something disturbed me as I saw Jack disappear from the front of the charge, and only after fighting through the thick waves of armed and frenzied Jacksonites did I see him crumpled on the floor, staring at his weapons and muttering incoherently. Relieved to have finally gotten face-to-face with him, but wary of his condition, I eased closer to him, calling out his name to try and pacify him.
"JACK! JACK, IT'S TOMMY! WE NEED TO GET YOU AWAY FROM ALL THIS! LET'S GET TO COVER!"
"What did you do, Joel? What did you do? What did you do? What did you DO? They took her, Joel- they took her! TOOK HER!"
In the midst of trying to softly usher him away from the battlefield, he suddenly turned his eyes on me-
Good GOD!
His eyes were unnatural, inhuman, incomprehensible...
His pupils were not dilated, so much as transformed- shaped like spirals and burning with monstrous malevolence. His irises were blood-red, mirroring the awful physical appearance of a newly-Infected. His muscles were tensed to a strenuous degree, veins popping up and outlining the limbs of his bloodied and battered figure.
"J-o-e-l."
I tensed up as Jack suddenly grabbed my coat collar, peering at me with those unnerving, horrifying set of eyes. His teeth ground and gnashed against each other as if bating an overwhelming urge of feral ferocity. And then he spoke things which shook me to my core.
"J-o-e-l, you slaughtered them all. They raped you of your reason for living on. Killing them was right. It was just. Killing is meant for preservation. You preserve that which you claim as yours. You took it back, and they wish to steal from us AGAIN. We must slaughter these toads. Every-single-one. Until the last of them has croaked."
I nearly whimpered as Jack brought his face closer, and closer, and closer, until our eyeballs were almost grazing one another.
"Until the last of their cities is razed. Until the last bit of their loyalty is ground to dust. Until the last of their allies is beaten and scattered like rats. Until the last of us can live in peace- I will tear them down to their last man."
I needn't explain how it felt to be on the receiving end of a ranting, murder-frenzied, bloodied lunatic who couldn't distinguish reality from hallucinations. I simply nodded along fervently with everything he said.
"Yep, yep, yeah, mm-hmm, absolutely correct, Jack."
As if by pure miracle, Jack seemed to return to his senses momentarily as my voice reached his ears, and he released my collar to my deep relief.
"Tommy." He hissed, sounding more animal-like than human.
"YES!" I shouted, reassured by this reaction from him. I was beginning to fear that his mind had tipped off the deep end permanently; now, I was simply in awe of the mental strength of Jack, to somehow return from insanity and string words together into a sentence. This kid was full of all the surprises the world had to offer!
And he was my... nephew. At such an inappropriate time as this, I felt a twisted sense of pride for Jack- he had my bloodline in him, my bloodline! Marie and I'd never had nor considered the thought of children, especially in the outbreak of the global infection, and even now- since we were both in leadership positions, we would inevitably be neglecting the kid as parents because of our business in duties.
But now... now... I had a nephew! A new member of the family... and I had to take care of him. He had done more for this settlement than we could pay him back for, yet never sought any form of status or power, even in this moralless world he'd been born into. With enough manufactured ignorance, I could almost ignore the legitimately fucked-up aspects of Jack and appreciate his actions.
MY! BLOODLINE!
"Are you grounded now, Jack?!" I asked hurriedly- our conversation came about as an abysmal time, since bullets and grenades were still creating havoc across the settlement.
"Where... are... Joel and... Ellie?!"
"They're safe and sound, Jack, no need to worry! Just heard from your father over the radio a bit ago!"
Jack's demeanor calmed considerably, even despite his monstrous-looking appearance.
"I... am... really fucking angry, for some reason, Tommy."
No kidding, I thought worriedly; just saying those words, I could see Jack straining with all of his might to contain the raw fury emanating from his pores. Face pinched towards the mouth, his teeth mashed together and eyes narrowed from concentration on retaining his sanity.
Un-fucking-believable, this kid was. By this point, I wasn't even sure if Joel had this kind of fortitude of willpower- at least, not at the age he was now.
"We've almost won this battle, Jack!" I shouted, once again trying to elevate my words over the bullet hell of our surroundings. "Just one more push, and we'll have done it!"
Jack nodded precariously, as if anticipating his own mental snap by any wrong movement of the body.
"Let's... finish the job, then!"
"HELL NO, NOT YOU!" I shouted back at him. "Find a cabin and hunker down for the rest of the fight!"
As much as I yearned to keep Jack's insane fighting momentum going, I had a duty and promise made to Joel, and I plain refused to risk my nephew's life any longer after how much he'd just been through. And for fuck's sake, he had taken bullets during the encounter! I could see Jack was clearly against the notion of finding refuge, but before I could convince him any further-
"TOMMY!" Jesse shouted, sifting through the horde of Jacksonites still charging toward the front gate and joining the disjointed conversation. "We've pushed out the Wolves at the East and West gates! They're concentrating their forces for a push at the north gate!"
I turned my eyes away momentarily from Jack, beckoning Jesse closer.
"JESSE, TAKE A SQUAD AND START CLEARING THE BUILDINGS FOR WOLVES!"
"Got it, Tommy!"
I nodded in approval, turning my eyes back and-
"Oh, for Christ's SAKE!"
I threw my rifle at the ground in sheer rage- Jack had dashed away in the few seconds I took to look at Jesse.
"MOTHERFUCKER!"
JACK
I had barely regained my faculties. Every sense imaginable was coated in supernatural efficiency and underlined with an irrational sense of apoplexy and the overwhelming desire to rampage through the battlefield in search of blood. Waves of adrenaline kept crashing into me, yet somehow my body had not crumpled into itself from the tempestuous gales of fatigue that should have sent me careening to the ground hours ago.
By some foul and inexplicable reason, I had been gifted superhuman endurance and agility. By what medium, I assumed only to be the immunity to infection inside of me, something I had no understanding of and would not care to try and reason through at this time. My mind was torn between reason and madness; I had to make decisions in split-seconds, to stave my mind from the desire to fight mindlessly.
Distinguishing between friend and foe was rather easy, since both sides wore significantly different types of armor and clothing. Resisting the urge to kill everything in sight was what made this endeavor so difficult.
I had slipped away from Tommy's grasp and sprinted towards the tumult, the crux, the apex of this battle at the front gates. I was not sated- my bloodlust was not quenched, nor was my righteous fury and indignation at these scum of the earth for raiding my isolated paradise.
They had to PAY! IN BLOOD!
Carried by the shouting and frenzied energy of those around me, I propelled through the crowd, eager to head the charge and massacre the opposition with a total victory.
And then, I saw it. In the distance, dozens of Wolves convalesced on the front gate, trying to fortify their position with sandbags and entrenchment tools like shovels.
"TOO LATE!" I screamed. A few of the Wolves had noticed our incoming charge and begun picking up arms to fire, but I was well ahead of the pack now, and had the timely advantage on the nearest Wolves.
Necks were carved; heads blown apart; bodies hit the ground. Just as the rest of the Wolves dropped their tools and retrieved their guns, the horde of Jacksonites slammed into the front gate like a torrential, unstoppable tidal wave. The next few moments were almost purely melee-based; knives, clubs, gun stocks, bayonets, and fists flew in every direction imaginable. I excelled in this environment, able to slip between fighters in struggle and clashing frontlines to eradicate the enemy in the quickest ways possible.
I cherished the blood that spattered across my face; relished in the bodies of our enemies that crumpled to the ground lifelessly. This was war. It was exciting, unnerving, harrowing, chaotic- and it only lasted a few mere seconds.
(Music: "We Did It!", by grandson)
BWOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!
The bellowing sound of a horn reached across every corner of the blood-soaked battlefield, and in droves the Wolves then began to retreat, stumbling and desperately grabbing the nearest equipment as they took off running. In the bloody onslaught of melee that took place, it was inevitable that one of the two sides would crack in the first minute of combat- no human being wanted to take on chances of battle that did not tilt wildly in their favor, and would find escape wherever they could to preserve their meager lives.
"DO NOT LET THEM GET AWAY AND RECOVER!" I shouted in a partial mix of frustration and excitement, seeing the enemy break and run from our presence. This was where the REAL CASUALTIES TOOK PLACE!
I rushed with the gales of hellfire at my feet, propelled headlong into the backs of fleeing Wolves, slaying them with victorious and violent glee. This was a new kind of feeling. Winning, alongside those who were valiant enough to fight by my side against the terrible odds. In the midst of sanity once more slipping from my grasp, I came to align strongly with this city that I had fought tooth and nail to defend.
These were my people. I fought for them. I killed for them. I worked, labored, planned, connived, schemed, plotted, acted and worked to ensure the preservation of this little township. THIS WAS MY TRIBE!
Unity, at long last. Belonging to something I felt truly confident in, enough to risk my most precious commodity for it- life. A group I felt no shame to belong to, a community I had no qualms defending with every ounce of my strength and willpower.
Everyone I loved was here. Everything I wanted was here. Every possibility, ambition, and curiosity I had or wanted could be fulfilled here.
This was my home.
And with this last thought in mind, knowing we had won the battle and that I had gained revolutionary clarity,
The last of my willpower caved in, given to the madness that propelled me to further slaughter.
Jacksonites flooded past my fleeting consciousness, tearing apart the driven foe like mad dogs and screaming their cries of victory. Bullets laid into every WLF uniform that could be seen, even those that laid still in the piling snow. Smoke from a hundred firearms clouded the air and soared into the sky. Fires burned haphazardly across the trees surrounding the settlement, the product of a great battle's aftermath.
And then, I relapsed into mindless insanity.
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-!
DR. LOGAN
An hour later...
...
...
The sounds of war had come to cessation. I was hesitant to leave the triage area where many of our injured resided, but I trusted the volunteers to keep oversight until I returned; and luckily, my head nurse (a young woman by the name of Rosie) had managed to survive the siege entirely, inflicted with only a few shrapnel wounds; whereas most of the injured in this triage were shrapnel-ridden, torn through by bullets, or catatonic from the horrors of war.
"Rosie," I spoke firmly, addressing her as she laid in a cot taking shrapnel out of her body with a hemostat and scalpel. "First off, stop operating on yourself, fuck's sake! Now, I'm needin' to leave to check on the situation at the front gate. I need you to head operations here. There's a few other nurses here who can help with mitigating damages, so tend to the most serious cases first."
Rosie saluted, immediately regretting the action when blood spurted slightly from her open wounds.
"Will do, sir!"
I sighed. She was still stuck in combat mode.
"Good luck, then." I said, before hurrying out of the triage center towards the front gate. I was anxious to know why the gunfire had stopped- it would either be a most relieving explanation or the most nightmarish scenario imaginable. I hadn't known who had won.
(Music: "All Gone (Aftermath)", by Gustavo Santaolalla)
Stomping through the heavy-laden snow across the streets, I silently mourned those bodies I recognized, outfitted with Jackson City's cloth and bolt. This was by far the most horrible sight I had glimpsed... in my entire life. Fifty-years old bordering on sixty, I had seen the fall of this world and much before it. None of it came close to the grief-inducing shock of seeing so many of my neighbors, friends, and acquaintances laid out lifelessly across the cold ground; bodies stuck in awkward angles at the times of death and eyes barren of personality and passion.
The entire walk to the front gate was shrouded in devastation. Buildings half-obliterated by mortars, bullet holes littering the walls and steaming in the snow, blood caking the landscape like a sadistic artist. Wounded and dying Jacksonites groaned and cried throughout the city, echoing off the somber and broken buildings.
How would we recover from this?
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
My mind was torn from the morose atmosphere by the blood-curdling roaring of a distant figure. Rushing around the corner. I saw the front gate filled with armed Jacksonites, many of them seated or lying down in exhaustion. Jack himself was surrounded by many of these Jacksonites, who were praising and exalting him while simultaneously looking as if they were attempting to restrain Jack. It made sense a second later, when Jack suddenly lashed out towards the group around him, throwing punches and kicks wildly as Jacksonites tackled him and tied him up.
The whole affair was incredibly surreal, since the Jacksonites, even while keeping his head and limbs pushed to the ground roughly, were still smiling and continuing to shower the young lunatic in heaps of glorious praise. Even the exhausted and nearly-unconscious Jacksonites were gazing with adoration or muttering to one another while gesturing to Jack, in all of his insane wriggling and cursing.
What a surreal sight. I would be hard-pressed to question those around him on what had inspired this further exaltation of the seventeen-year old boy.
I jogged over to the scene, where Jack was finally starting to calm down, and ordered the nearest guards to escort Jack to the triage center; from one look at his body I could tell he was barely kept together, both physically and mentally. As his body was hauled off (and followed by practically half the remaining forces of our militia), I took out my notepad and scribbled down a few lines of importance to me, before heading back to the triage center to check on Joel's health.
ELLIE
I awoke in a daze. My vision was blurry and my head ached like a storm was raging inside of it. I felt nauseous and my cognitive ability may have been impaired, but not enough to notice the massive wealth of armed Jacksonites that'd flooded the room I was in.
"Did you see him at the square? He moved like a fucking leopard! I don't think he's human, at this point!"
"I saw him take bullets and he kept on going! He's definitely not human! Does that mean we have a superhuman on our side?!"
"And he's not even exhausted! Look at him! He's sitting upright, eyes wide open! First the Wyote attack, then this, and not even a day's space between the battles!"
"It must've taken a toll on him, though. When the fight ended, he started attacking everything he could get his hands on. We had to restrain the guy- I'm worried he's dropped off the deep end."
The room was filled with a cacophony of conversation and groans of pain alike. It was only at that point that I realized I was inside the triage center. I placed my hands over my torso, face and limbs, stressing over the possibility of having some major gash or wound. I sighed a deep breath of relief as I found none, only minor lacerations and bruising. The last thing I remembered was city hall falling on top of our heads, and somehow I'd been lucky enough to not get crushed by major debris.
Righting myself upwards with a loud groan, I suddenly locked eyes with Jack, who immediately got up from his seat, only to collapse to the ground and slam his head on a nearby shelf. Everyone gasped in shock, but Jack was undeterred, raising his body and almost crawling toward me before reaching my cot and straining to pick himself up from the ground.
"El-lie..." He whispered, his voice torn and dry. "...Take me... to Joel."
I was simply flabbergasted; I had woken up seconds ago. Give me some damn time to comprehend things!
Still, I stood up from the bed, holding my injured side and wrapping my other arm around Jack's shoulder.
"I don't know where Joel is."
"Shit..."
"I'll take y'all!"
A girl nearby spoke up and came over to us, dirtied and bloodied but acting as if nothing was amiss.
"Joel is in the manager's office. Er, I mean not like 'he's chilling there', but as in he's resting on a medical bed-"
The young woman stopped her ranting when she locked eyes with Jack, though couldn't see his expression.
"A-Anyways..."
The woman gestured towards us, and we proceeded along with her through the corridors. A few seconds later, Dr. Logan and Joel came into view, speaking with one another in the manager's office of the bar; which the militia commandeered for the quick establishment of a triage area.
Logan and Joel's eyes raised toward the entrance, widening upon seeing Jack and Ellie standing at the doorway, practically bleeding across the tiles below them.
"Jack..." Logan muttered. "Rosie, thank you for bringing them here, but neither of them should be standing up-"
"LEAVE."
Jack's sudden command shocked Logan, and almost instantly offended him. Yet peering into Jack's eyes for just a moment, and knowing of what he was capable of, what he had done, how mentally unstable he was at the moment...
Doctor Logan got up and stomped out of the room in quiet frustration. Yet even as Jack made it clear he wanted a private talk between himself, Ellie and Joel, Rosie still hung at the doorway, peeping from just outside the frame to listen in on the conversation.
"Jack." Joel mumbled, wrapping his arms around Jack's torso gently. "Stop fucking risking your life like this. You need to rest. You need to let your body heal, and put this awful business away for good."
While I cherished Jack, I was suspicious of Joel's behavior towards him. Joel was not one to act this way with every teenager he came across in the settlement. I had my theories, and there was certainly more at play here, but I decided not to pursue the topic right now, considering how the town had just barely scraped through a massive onslaught.
"Joel..." Jack croaked. "I was... stupid not to... ask you this before..."
He broke momentarily from Joel's grasp, his eyes tired but focused acutely.
"Where... is Tess?"
