Chapter XXIII: Rebuild (Part I)

"Hhhhhhh... huuuuuhhhhhh..."

"Hhhhhhh... huuuuuhhhhhh..."

"Hhhhhhh... huuuuuhhhhhh..."

I focused on my breathing; trying to center my mind. I could feel the pulsation of my organs. The veins running through my body. The air circulating in my lungs. Every inhale and exhale granted me further equilibrium and balance. I opened my eyes, looking calmly around at my surroundings with analysis and clarity. The frosty woods, located a mile or so away from Jackson City; a sparse area that was practically guaranteed to have no human life.

But plenty of practice targets.

Checking over my blade, handgun and semi-automatic rifle, I felt a subtle excitement wash over me momentarily. Satisfied with their quality, I threw the rifle to the snow, holstering my gun for a moment to pull out a whistle.

"Until the last of us can live in peace..." I muttered, reciting a mantra I'd created for myself since the siege two weeks ago. "...My enemies shall know it not."

I placed my lips against the whistle and blew with all the force I could summon from my lungs.

PHRRRRRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRT!

The air fell deafly silent for a sparse few seconds. Then-

"REEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


(Music: "Wetwork", by Le Castle Vania)


The screams of the Infected rang across the valley, and I somberly awaited their arrival. I was ready.

And they came in droves.

The first to charge out of the woods, a Clicker, was immediately dispatched with a throw of the knife. My legs carried me with that unnatural speed, and I propelled from the ground to tackle down the Clicker, wrestling the knife out of the center of its fungal head, and immediately shooting down the next Infected to follow up behind him.

"RRRAAOOWWWW!"

An Infected canine suddenly darted out of the woods, leaping at me with bloody jaws agape. I slammed my left palm across his jaw, grabbing its hind leg and whirling it around to smack a group of Infected clawing their way across the snow to tear me apart. Almost immediately, I was assailed from behind by another Infected animal, this time a leopard, who clamped its jaws down on my ankle and dragged me around in the snow, shoving aside the gathering horde of Infected eager to reach my flesh.

With a deep calmness, I twisted my body around and slashed the eyes of the predator, causing it to release its hold for a mere second and allowing me to thrust the blade forward into its the fungal growth on the front of its face. It screeched like a monstrous mixture of animal and infected, but I had no time to continue my attack as the horde it was holding off was now swarming me by the dozens. Their bites, slashes and clawing were rendered ineffective on the thick padding I had laced over my body, neck and face, and so I ducked underneath the horde and began opening stomachs one after another; slashing achilles heels, severing tendons and slitting throats- all in the simultaneous action of slipping past the shambling legs of the fanatical creatures.

Diving out of the edge of the massive crowd, I spotted several dozen more Infected flocking to the location on top of the massive horde I was already fighting. A great grin erupted across my features.

I could feel it. This thing inside me was working to my advantage; I could feel it enhancing my body to unparalleled heights. Adrenaline surged through my every pore like a showered blessing from the divine; strength filled every inch of my flesh, vigor and vitality defined my senses, and an over-surging confidence emanated from my pores.

My reaction time skyrocketed. In the half-second I had to admire my situation, I sensed an attack from behind and ducked my head, feeling the hair bristles of an arm graze my head, and immediately swung around to stab the Clicker that had made an attempt to attack. Pulling the knife out of its throat, I shoved its body into the horde sprinting from behind; tripping the entire flock, much to my amusement.

I took off from the horde, eager to test my stamina in a prolonged fight. I wanted to simulate that night where I had fought these creatures in great numbers, to perfect that scenario until I could avoid practically all injury and mistakes.

I needed to perfect it. I needed to protect this city against anything that could come its way. I refused to allow such a massive tragedy like the WLF siege occur ever again; and if I couldn't outsmart my opponents, I would beat them with sheer brute force alone, if that was what it came to.

"RAAAAGH!"

I stopped in my tracks, broken snow flying in the direction of the great Bloater that shambled into view and roared with a guttural ferocity. It reached towards its fungus-ridden shoulder and pulled off one of the seeping nodes, hurling it in my direction. I stared at it in curiosity, watching it slam into the ground in front of me.

PWWWWFFFFF!

It exploded, releasing a thick cloud of spores that were quickly scattered apart by the tempestuous winds. I looked over my arms and body for a quick moment, checking for any injuries or symptoms of advancing infection.

None found. Complete immunity.

Joyous days.

With malicious vindication, I propelled myself at the Bloater, raising my knife and slamming the blade through its gorged, fungal neck flaps, ripping it out to slash at the Bloater's wrists as it tried to grab at me. Unable to use its hands, the Bloater began to beat on my back with its forearms, gurgling and groaning in apparent frustration at its inability to kill me as I continued to stab at its face, neck and shoulders. As the Bloater's forearm strikes began to bruise my skin, I hopped off its staggering body and put some distance between us before dashing back in to stab at its face and arms.

After enough punctures, the Bloater tumbled to its knees, allowing me to hop off and roll to the ground and back onto my legs. Yet as I brought my attention to the rest of the horde, I felt a slimmer of disappointment as I noticed how lackluster the numbers were compared to last time. From a rough estimate, there were only about thirty to fifty Infected chasing after me, yet the last time I'd been here there were easily over eighty or more.

Was I killing off the local Infected populace? Well, that would be a reasonable explanation; I had been out here secretly these last few days after recovering just enough to move again, cleaving through masses by the dozens over hours to test the extent of my durability and increase my fighting experience. After such time had passed, I had come to realize just how disgustingly resilient and formidable this internal symbiosis had become for me.

As this thought passed, I had suddenly lost the urge to fight any further today, and chose to subvert the oncoming horde by ducking into the nearby bushes; heading back to Jackson City while avoiding the feral instincts of the horde trying to seek me out.

It was almost time for my daily examination with Doctor Logan.


"Eyes open."

"Tongue out."

"Clench your fist."

Jack followed the now-routine instructions of Doctor Logan, who was conducting a regular diagnosis of Jack's condition as it stood; after jotting down a multitude of notes in his journal, he brought his tired eyes back up to Jack, who was gazing intensely at the floorboards of the quaint cabin they resided in. Doctor Logan brought up a tape recorder and started it to record his findings.

"All bodily functions normal; gunshot wounds are still healing but have mostly closed over by now; no sign of infections, either. Shrapnel and lacerations are completely gone; the body begun rejecting the metal shards and regenerating fresh epidermal and subdermal cells around Day Seven. Jack is healing at a rate over five-hundred times that of the average human. This is definitively linked to the healing properties of the cordyceps fungus, which can seemingly precipitate rapid diffusion of calcium carbonate and-"

Jack was completely mute for the extent of the examination, as was routinely characteristic of him during these times with the Doctor. No matter the amount of time he'd spent in serenity and peace, his mind and body had been engraved with the experiences of the past; Naturally, it was people rather than environments that determined how closed-off he was to others.

After the two weeks spent with Doctor Logan, he'd come to grow comfortable in his presence, but not trusting of his character. To Jack, a scientist was unheard of in his past. The vast majority of his time not killing, looting, scavenging, or running was spent figuring out more ways to survive. After seeing and hearing of such an occupation that allowed for plenty of free time for research and deliberation, he had instinctively grown resentful and held animosity for the Doctor; not because he had any personal dislike for him, but because his position as a scientist and full-time doctor flew in the face of Jack's constant and acute paranoia of death around the corner at every second. There was simply no time for Jack, in the past, to carry notions of researching any particular thing in-depth, or to follow a particular passion in his life.

Every second was spent in danger, and therefore shelter, food and water, and weapons were the primary directives of Jack's brain. Hence why Jackson City's serene atmosphere had thrown Jack off-kilter so badly, even to this moment.

"Have you been experiencing any discomfort internally?" Doctor Logan asked with eyes fixated on reviewing his notes.

"No." Jack responded.

"Disconnects between mental and bodily connections?"

"No."

"Cognitive dysfunctions?"

"No."

"Spiritual torment?"

"No, you fucking quack."

Doctor Logan readjusted his glasses in clear offense of Jack's words.

"You haven't developed any bit of humility or civility in these past two weeks, Jack. I'm suspecting you must have some form of anger issues or repressed-"

"You bore me. Let me show you something you may find interesting."

Despite the Doctor's indignation, he was intrigued by Jack's claims- his crass behavior did little to bar the doctor from finding out more about the young man's abilities gained by the fungus inside him. Then again, this abrasiveness and contempt was turned up to eleven after the siege- and Doctor Logan practically confirmed it had something to do with the transformed fungus inside of him. One might even say he had adopted a semi-god complex over these two weeks, what with the cult of followers he'd created and his unofficial status as the literal savior of the city known to every remaining Jacksonite left alive after that horrendous attack.

Jack hopped up from the examination table, beckoning to Dr. Logan to follow. As they continued to walk outside, Jack began explaining something which baffled the Doctor to such a degree that he was almost unable to comprehend the words being spoken.

"I've found myself able to control the Infected. Two weeks ago, during the raid, I was able to use certain sounds with my voice to direct the Infected when I found a lone Washington jagoff standing in front of the western walls."

"Wh-What?" Doctor Logan muttered. He was having trouble processing the words Jack had just spoken- though Jack continued to move on in explanation.

"However, my voice doesn't have all the kinds of frequencies-"

Jack said the word with struggle- from knowing that he had been spending these last two weeks tutoring with Ellie, Doctor Logan knew he was making use of complex diction to expand his vocabulary. It was somewhat innocent and wholesome, and entirely in contrast to the person he was staring at now.

"-So I looked for another solution to this problem. And I found something which... gravitated... towards me."

The two came to a stop in front of Jack's lodge. He headed in momentarily, the sounds of rummaging able to be heard from inside, before he emerged with a plain-brown violin and bow.

"The fuck?" Doctor Logan said aloud. "What are you doing?"

"Come and see." Jack stated ominously, casually walking through an in-repair hole in the western wall caused by the weeks-ago siege and proceeding on for another two-dozen meters, far and away from the settlement, and much to Logan's aversion.

Planting his boots firmly through the dense-packed snowfield, Jack placed his violin and bow on the ground for a moment, cupping his hands around his mouth. Only at the last second did Doctor Logan realize was Jack was going to do, crying out in fear before Jack hollered at the top of his lungs.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Doctor Logan ducked instinctively in fear and trepidation as the cacophonous sounds of several Infected rang out from the distant woods- clearly making their way towards the source of the noise. Logan was about to sprint off for safety when he suddenly noticed the utter lack of fear defining Jack's movements. He stood still, as if casually awaiting the horde to arrive.

"What the hell are you planning?!" Logan shouted the question at Jack; he was puzzled out of his mind when Jack suddenly dropped to the ground and began doing push ups and jumping jacks rapidly. "HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!"

"Shut up!" Jack hissed coarsely, continuing his bizarre workout. After a minute or so had passed, Logan suddenly felt the air shift in an unnatural manner; the feeling of anger and excitement begun to perforate Logan's mind like a tidal wave washing over him.

"What the... what-"

"I know." Jack huffed while continuing the exercise. "This is fucking insane. By sweating, I can influence the minds of others, including Infected and Infected animals. From what I've seen, they usually stop in their tracks when they get close enough, and from there I can use sound to direct what they do next based on what kind of frequency I speak at."

"Chemical pheromones..." Doctor Logan muttered."

"What?"

"Pheromones...! You're hijacking the chemical processes of other living beings with your own glands, and directing their electrical synapses with... sound? How... how is that even possible...?"

Jack grunted.

"Whatever. Watch."

As a pack of Infected came sprinting towards Jack's location, Jack stood up straight and stared in their general direction with no indication of apprehension. After the Infected came within roughly ten meters of Jack, they stopped in their tracks, forced into a trance-like stupor as they became statue-like. As soon as this happened, Jack picked up his violin and bow, placing the bowstring on the violin chords.

"I've received some lessons from Ginnie, the kind Swede she is. The violin came very quickly to me- now that I understand these vibrations so... intimately. She taught me a very interesting song, as well..."

And then, Jack begun to perform with the violin.


Music: "Näcken's Polska", by Martin Wave


All at once, the decrepit and broken bodies of the Infected began to jerk around in a contorted fashion, demonstrating a hideous and vulgar dance that immediately induced nausea in the doctor.

What the fuck am I bearing witness to?! Doctor Logan thought to himself, completely horrified by this sordid display of animated corpse-defiling. This ventured beyond the realm of earthly morality; What he was witnessing at this moment was so surreal and reality-shattering that the Doctor's brain was forced into a coping mechanism which induced him into a trance; believing this to be some kind of dream-state to which he was entirely disattached from.

There was likely a reason for this, as well; the Doctor had noticed that his own legs, arms, and torso were jerking in tune with the rhythm of the violin stringing, and almost immediately this grew to be too much for the Doctor.

He tried to form words to shout at Jack, commanding and begging him to stop, but none would surface to his mouth. He was made a puppet involuntarily; his senses infected with those noxious pheromones and his muscles forced to jerk, twist and contort against his will.

Suddenly, the song came to a ceasing, and Doctor Logan crumpled to the ground, trying to absorb the mental shock of what he'd just witnessed. He vomited into the snow, heaving several deep breaths to try and calm himself and grapple with his surroundings.

"Sorry, Doctor. I didn't realize this worked on people, too."

The near-indifferent tone of voice in Jack's words were too much for Doctor Logan, and he lashed out with little restraint.

"THIS IS UNGODLY! FOUL, JACK!" He yelled in sheer outrage, running out of breath almost immediately. The song's end had drained him almost entirely of energy, for some inexplicable reason, and the Infected that had been puppeteered to his tune had now crumpled to the ground, unmoving like corpses. Jack noticed Logan's affixed gaze on them and exhaled strongly through his nose.

"Is it foul? Or is it a very... convenient way to deal with the problem of Infected? This can easily be used to my-... to our advantage."

Logan exhaled a breath of exhaustion, shakily bringing himself up onto unsteady feet. His gaze, now more tired than ever, was aimed directly at Jack.

"Fuck. I'm done with our examination for today."

Jack sighed.

"That's fine," He muttered, turning away from Doctor Logan with a small smile beginning to erupt across his face. "I need to tutor with Ellie in a bit."