DYING LIGHT: THE DESCENT
Arc Summary: The Tower had gone too quiet for weeks now. With no response over the radio, an ex-champion kickboxer named Mad Jack decides to drop by the Slums to check on family. Unfortunately for her, she is forced to make a pitstop right into the Coast of Scanderoon, the next-door neighbour to Harran and now overrun with the infected.
If she wants to stay alive in this city, Jack's gonna have to make buddies while 'studying' the infected. But she can't let anyone know the little side project she's been tasked with or the other secrets she has. No one outside the Ravs should know. Not even her cousin.
What's more, something is lurking behind her, following far too close to her shadow...
PROLOGUE ARC: WELCOME TO SCANDEROON
PILOT
"I learned to recognise the thorough and primitive duality of man; I saw that, of the two natures that contended in the field of my consciousness, even if I could rightly be said to be either, it was only because I was radically both."
― Robert Louis Stevenson, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
"First I'll kill you, bitch."
The corpse adorned in red robes and golden jewelry laid motionless beside him - its head tossed away like a worthless stone, having been pulled right off its neck. Blood spewed onto the cold concrete floor and under his shoes. In his tired hysteria, he didn't register the Mother's death. All too fixated on the one and only goal this entire time since entering the Countryside's dam.
He rolled over back to the thin vials of dark-blue liquid he had dropped to the floor during his tumble.
The vials were the answer. They had to be!
No, they were the cure! That cult leader lunatic was talking out of her ass. Only one way out? Turn on the nuke and kill off millions to save billions?
She genuinely believed it. Saying it to the outsider - who trekked into their hallowed lands for an answer to the madness, to an outbreak leeching onto the nearby city - like a sane person. As if he would see eye-to-eye with her and activate the fail-safe himself. All because of some bullshit prophecy about a sun god; to free them from their suffering and this infection.
Like hell was he gonna do that!
Enough of losing more lives because 'the ends justify the means'. Enough of losing friends around him!
Enough was enough!
Kyle Crane was done with this higher morale shit! He was finished with following orders!
"...And save my friends…"
Get the vials, get out, and get back to the Tower.
That was his mission now, he told himself. Nothing else mattered.
"And you can rot in hell."
Kyle had his goal set in stone, even in his delirious, battered state. He had just fought against a talking, sentient, dangerous Volatile but people relied on him, on the medicine making their way home. There didn't have to be any more sacrifices!
So much has happened to him over the weeks - since the day he parachuted down to Harran, got bitten and was thrown into the thralls of the Harran Virus pandemic. Where people turned violent and attacked the living in the modern century. For days, he watched, he fought, and he survived. His entire journey led him to the Countryside, on a rumor that the people there weren't affected by the virus.
And during his time there, he had learned a lot - more than what he bargained for. More than what he had wanted to know. Things escalated for the worse - like it always had for him until he dealt the final blow at the cult leader inside the dam's hold.
But he didn't come out of the fight unscathed. He could feel it snake painfully inside him. Something was wrong with his head. Something wasn't right with his legs. It was fatigue, wasn't it? He barely got out of that fight alive!
It was all right, though, he told himself. The battle was over. His long journey could finally end and it could be over with the outbreak! There was nothing stopping him now: no Rais' men, no infected, not even the Mother. She was good as dead and he could finally save everyone at the Tower!
He wanted to laugh out loud. The burning in his lungs wouldn't let him. Besides, Crane had a job to do. He had to keep his mind focused! Focus! You have to do this, he reminded. Everyone counted on him!
The weakened runner scrambled to the vials and picked the first one. He took one second to glance back - almost expecting the dead body behind him to rise back up even without a head. When it didn't happen, he picked the second one. Then a third for good measures. Once he confirmed he had all three in his hip pouch, he was off, tumbling his way for an exit.
Out of the dark, damp dam.
But things were making it hard on him. Or was it himself? The walls around him blurred into a dizzy, sickening soup. He was almost swimming in it and yet some leftover willpower ushered him to keep going. No. Don't stop. He couldn't afford a short rest.
Then the visions flashed.
He was gone under for a couple of seconds, watching the faces violently snarl at him. Trying to kill him. They were enraged at him for leaving them behind. For abandoning them! But his body kept going. Once he surfaced back up to reality, he found himself clumsily wobbling into some white containers. Somewhere else.
"You can't change anything, Kyle."
This didn't feel right. He couldn't put his finger on why. This dizziness was taking far longer than he had hoped, along with this growing headache. Cold sweat breaking on his temple while his stomach did somersaults.
"What's happening to me?"
"You'll see for yourself…"
The colors warped around him into shiny prismatic spheres. Again, he went down. Like drowning at the bottom of the ocean and he was clawing back up for a breath of air. A set of old mattresses softened his lumbering fall.
"I… I killed you! I fucking killed you!"
Where was she? Where?! He'd find her and do it again if he had to!
"This is a poison…"
"It's not a poison!" His anger died out quickly as he desperately pulled out a vial. It was confirmation to himself, just to calm himself down from losing to insanity. "It's a cure!"
Again, he squeezed his fingers on the vial. It was real. Not an illusion! This was it: the key to everyone's problems!
"Lena?" Crane called over the line after keeping the last vial away. "Lena, I'm coming back with the medicine. We'll be able to help everyone now! Tell Camden that he has all the time in the world… No! Tell him that we have a new lead… A better one…"
Again, he went under. The flashes were getting worst - the familiar faces screaming at him, torturing him for his 'betrayal'. All his failures. When he breathed back up, he was by a barricade of blue containers. He heaved himself over them to spot a ray of hope gushing down a manhole.
A way out. A ladder, at the end of the tunnel. Out of this damp sewage.
With all the determination he had left, Crane pushed himself onwards. Ignore all the one-second faces going by. The masks, the symbols, the crazy fanatics? They were history. That damn Mother voice in his head was just the after-effect from having his brain smashed up inside - that was all. Because she was silent now, no more whispering.
Replaced by something else. He couldn't hear it but it was somewhere at the back of his mind.
A scratch. It hadn't been there before, had it?
Just go, Kyle. Get out of here.
Out into the blinding light.
Once the delirious runner climbed up to the surface, everything became relatively clear in his head. The blurriness had stopped and he found himself feeling like he woke up from a bad dream and into a surreal one.
The manhole he crept out from was right at the edge of a playground. Everything around him didn't have the hissing walkers hiding in the tall crops or dead carcasses littering the streets. No sign of the farmlands or the congested urban landmarks - instead, the cozy suburban streets with well-cut lawns behind picket fences and a deceivingly peaceful sunny afternoon welcomed him.
He still searched. No infected. No cries of help. No outbreak.
The closest stirring of movement Crane saw was a car driving past the playground. Two kids - a boy with a toy sword and an older girl -played around the jungle gym while an adult - maybe their mother - was watching nearby.
"Where am I?"
It felt alien to Kyle. After everything he had gone through, everything in the Slums and the Countryside, none of this felt real to him. Did he just wake up or something? Or had he been dropped into a reality where the virus didn't exist and everyone was moving on with their lives?
No... That would mean moving on after all the deaths in Harran. He couldn't accept that.
"Oya! Time to go home!" he heard the woman call out as he hopped down to the park.
Maybe the family could fill him in on the details. Where he was, what was happening, all the questions. He needed to get to the others pronto-
The visions flashed again in his head - violently. An infected woman launched towards him with bared, bloodied teeth for a split second. And she looked familiar.
"Aaaaa!"
Suddenly, one of the kids pointed at him. They looked directly at him with terrified faces. Why? Both children rushed over to the lady, like chicks under the protection of a hen's wings.
"W-What?" Kyle muttered.
He reached out-
And gasped at the sight before him. His hands...they shouldn't be his hands. Orange veins like molten lava ran through his arm, glowing out of crusty, disgusting blackened skin. Nails were sharpened and wrapped into deadly talons.
He had seen these kinds of hands. Only at night. These weren't his hands!
But they were attached to him.
What...what is happening?
More screaming around him. At him.
He wanted to calm them down. He wasn't a danger! He was trying to help people! To save them!
Nothing came out of his throat. It was as if something deep within had started to take root in his subconscious and seized his voice for something...much more sinister.
Shout out his name, Kyle! To confirm that he was still human. He was still inside!
Someone hear him!
Then the dimming of one enormous light caught his attention.
The sun sunk down. And just as it slowly descended behind the houses, that something crept deeper inside his head. Settling into every corner of his grey matter and making itself right at home.
Foreign. Primitive.
Hungry.
Dark whispers telling him to embrace it. Tear, rip, kill. Getting louder and louder as the night drew closer.
His instinct screamed at him this wasn't right. Kyle Crane didn't feel like he was in control.
He turned back to the family. He wanted to tell them to get away from him but a snarl came out instead. The unknown energy was building up inside his muscles, readying him for the stalk. The hunt. His teeth were aching for some sinking into flesh. And that something in the back of his mind murmured toxically at him...to look over there. At the playground.
They were easy prey.
Get them.
Stop! This isn't what I wanted!
He tried again.
RUN!
But all that came out of his mouth was the howl of a bloodthirsty monster.
Three months later...
"Hm-Hmm-hmm!" hummed the chirpy, loud, and bouncy lyrics of sunshine and joy vibrating uncannily throughout the dark, damp tunnel.
Vroom went the small motor boat - baptized with the glossy-painted name, Caroline, on its starboard. It propelled across the gentle foamy waves - dead corpses bumping against its hull. Along the banks were rabid walkers; infected people who lost any shred of humanity and turned into vicious animals for the taste of human flesh. And just like animals alerted to anything new and dangerous, the Biters grunted at the taunting noises bouncing against the tunnel walls.
The engine's noise, the portable radio's music and the light humming. Something had entered the tunnel they stayed shelter from the sun. With nothing but instinct, they lashed out to the source, only for them to clumsily fall into the saltwater. Like trapped rats, they desperately clawed at the sides while succumbing to the waters' grasp.
Every bump between a skull and the hull was dulled down by the jolly music. No sense of danger for the driver when none of the infected could try to get on the boat. And even if a jumper did, she - a woman in an eye-catching red jacket - would give a good whack.
Her attention went to her radio and the direction she was going. Her fingers tapped to the music and hazel eyes behind orange-tinted sport sunglasses focused upfront. As of now, water was one safe means to travel across. The channel provided the only best route without any sort of problem to worry about, so she could get to her destination safely.
The end of the tunnel was within her sight, the morning sunlight seeping in powerfully - welcoming her. She flipped a switch off, turning off the modified UV lights along the bows before the boat stirred through the exit.
The sneaky bright rays slipped past her shades. One gloved, calloused hand shielded her eyes before she pulled her grey, tattered cowl scarf off her brown loose braid. But once her vision finally readjusted, she glanced at the familiar Mediterranean coastline of Harran. The blue water and crystal clear sky weren't breathtaking enough to dress up the city from its own horrors: the many streams of black smoke and the faraway screams of the damned. An isolated apocalypse befell and wrecked upon humanity as destruction laid waste in the streets. Yet, in some way, the city seemed to rebel against it. The walls were still staying strong and whatever survivors left alive still tried to push through.
One more day. Just one more day of surviving the Harran outbreak. The infected. And from each other - men turning against one another. The scenery of Harran's fall reflected that as true as the cold steel stabbed into someone's back.
The driver of the small speedboat couldn't help but feel a little stunned at the scene. She spotted the edge of the Slums in the far distance - only a thin line on the horizon. So close and yet so far away. The proverbial grip in her chest tightened a little but she shoved the grim thought out, first with a sigh and then a little ritual of hers. Enough to calm the nerves down like always.
Breathe in. 1, 2, 3, 4. Her fingers counted on the wheel. Breathe out. 1, 2, 3, 4. Rinse and repeat.
Everything's fine, Jackie. You'll see them soon.
Then her short attention drifted to one thing on the dashboard. Because it annoyed her. And that annoyance grounded her from her anxiety - a good distraction helped the mind from overthinking.
On the dashboard was a weird bobblehead knockoff, probably from China by the quality of the material. She was told it was some game character - a rap singer with an open black shirt, red bandana over his eyes and one big golden B-pendant chain around his neck. It just tempted her to poke at it and watch the head bobble.
"You sure have weird taste, Lenny..." she uttered with a thick accent.
There was then a feeling of vibration in the pocket of her sling bag. At first, she decided to let it run - because she knew who it was going to be. Maybe this upcoming earful would be less deafening since it was still daybreak. Her caller would be looking for a perk-me-up right about now.
That was what the woman betted on. Eventually, she slipped a small earpiece into her ear, linked to the walkie-talkie kept in her sling bag.
Beep!
"Jack? Do you read?"
Oh, she could hear that lovable voice loud and clear. Steaming and ready to give her a vocal one-two punch. So she deliberately kept quiet and continued watching the scenery again.
"I know you can hear me!" the young lad in his twenties screamed from the other end.
"Just admiring the view, Bones."
"Where are you? Everyone's been looking for you all morning."
"Somewhere near the Coast. Smooth sailing to the Slums in a few hours top."
"...Ok. I don't know which to be angry at. Thinking you got killed. Or out of all the places in Harran to go to, you're heading there!" her friend snapped."You don't even have a Lifeline with you!"
The driver chuckled, disregarding that one important rule - a rule everyone back home agreed. Her friend on the line easily conceded instead of barraging at her for ignoring that one rule. He could do nothing but sigh.
"Asem's going to be pissed."
"Actually, she's the one who gave the OK."
"Wait. She did?"
"You gotta do what you gotta do for family," she reassured him before drifting the conversation off. "...You know, this boat ride is mighty relaxing."
"Well. That explains Lenny going ballistic this morning. Really, Jack. You could have been gunned down by the Navy."
"It's just a short trip and I'll be back in a tick."
"Short trip. Right."
"Tower's gone quiet for too long, Bones. I'm just making sure they're alright," she boasted. "My idiot cousin will be happy to see me up and about."
"You've never liked your cousin."
"No. But he's a bloody fool and he's all I got left in this world." She could hear the sigh exhume too close to the mic, the owner just too uncertain of her future heading to Harran.
So she continued. "Could be a faulty wire in their radio. We don't have the best equipment either."
"But for them to be radio silent this long?"
"I'm not worried." And she most certainly knew her friend did not believe her one bit. "Champ's brother wouldn't stop rambling on and on about their new runner being useful around the base."
"Sounds like he's the complete opposite of you."
"Sounds like I've never done any good for you lot. Remember," Jack playfully warned. "I'm the only one who's doing this little pet project of yours."
"No, I mean - you are a good person! But sometimes your methods are...unorthodox."
"At least it brings bread on the table, doesn't it?" she pointed. "I think I'll extend this trip a little longer. You lot will do fine without me."
"What - No! Of course, you're needed here. Stop putting words in my mouth!"
She chuckled. "I'm kidding, Bones. It'd take a lot more for me to cut ties with the Ravs."
Another sigh, this time out of relief. "Thank you. Asem would have my head if you did…"
"Our fearless leader? Nooo," Jack chided. "She'd make you stay on radio duty for another week."
"Ugh. She would... Jack. Are you sure you want to be doing this...? There's nobody to get you if you go under again. And no one outside the Ravs can know about this 'project'."
"Don't fret, love. I'm just birdwatching out here," the woman in red chided, dramatically twirling her hand. "Watch how those freaks of nature think. Let a few Biters take a snack off me blood-"
"For collecting data, not screwing with your life," the young man on the other end grumbled loudly. "We have no idea if it will even work. We haven't finished the tests, for Pete's sake!"
Jack rolled her eyes at how thick the uncertainty fled out of her earpiece. How many times would she have to repeat this before he understood?
"Bones. My secret weapon works. You saw the results," she stated as a matter of fact with a shake of her fist. "So if I can get the data you need, then we can help the Tower out with that cure of theirs, right?"
"Theoretically, yes. But-"
"Then it's a better solution than just waiting. I beat the odds. I'm the only one brave enough to get up close for those samples."
There was a muffled scream - hands over a mouth. Bones was surely having a hard time trying to win this one-sided argument. "...You were cutting so close last time. Your cousin...if you two really do care about each other, then he's gonna be real broken about you."
The tension could be heard through the earpiece. He was still beaten up about the past month. Hell, it was understandable so Jack couldn't help but feel a little apologetic.
"I know, Bones. I know. I'll...try to be a bit more careful."
"That doesn't give me a vote of confidence. And you're not going to listen to me one way or another… You're wearing your PACT, right?"
Jack raised up her wrist to the sunlight, glancing at the black digital bracelet with a thin green monitor - pulsing with the easy readings, from reading her adrenaline spikes to the chemical influx mumbo jumbo.
"You should really come up with a better name."
"Shut up and keep an eye on the color. When it goes blue, call me with the results. When it hits red, call me! Keep that tracker on at all times, got it?"
"Got it."
"And no fists!" he hissed. "Just...find a weapon. Craft it out of thin air, for all I care. But no hand-to-hand combat. Don't even be a hero."
"Hero?" she laughed. What a word to pick out of the hat for her old reputation, it came across as quite insulting. "I'm Mad Jack. I'm immortal."
"Was. Keyword, was Mad Jack. You're retired, remember?" he groaned, letting a pause swing by. "Call us when you get to the Slums."
"You'll hear from me in a couple of hours."
"What is it?" Over the line, another voice could be heard in the background as her worried companion moved away from the mic. "Jack, heads up. GRE has been sighted over the horizon. Coming in hot and heavy."
"What's new?" she jested, unfazed and a little irritated.
"Hey, no joke. We don't want any of their attention."
"You know they could just bring in another bomb and solve all their problems."
"Jack, that was the military's doing. And why can't you be optimistic for once?"
"I'm being realistically optimistic. There's a difference."
"Just get those samples and be back here in one piece, ok? Good luck."
With the other end gone cold, the runner kept the earpiece away, satisfied with the conversation. Her grin gradually softened as she stared back at the awful scene on the horizon.
"...Don't think I can promise you that last part, mate."
Looking again, she decided to retract back her earlier thought. It was a bittersweet sight. The infected filled the streets like packs of lionesses, slow and sluggish by day. By night, much greater threats came out, thirsting for flesh and blood. And that was just the tamest part of the city.
Citizens struggled with food, water, and even Antizin. Survival of the fittest was the main game for the past few months, leading to factions being self-deluded beacons of hope while lashing at each other for the supply drops. The most dangerous one she had heard from the Slums was one large group led by a psychopath. And she could only imagine the city turned into ruins from the inside - with the airdrops on complete halt more than three months ago.
Well, that's what happens when the whole world abandoned a dying city. Because the rest of the country had to worry about the spreading virus beyond Harran's walls. They've left Harran to settle their own problems instead. Humans turned far more threatening and vicious than the undead freaks. So when she would reach the Slums, Jack would have to stay low - no unwanted trouble needed while she would stay over.
The worst part about all of this was the passage of time. The Outskirts truly changed a lot after months of no interaction with normality - Jack witnessed the whole show during her time there and with that, she knew the passage of time had reflected on the rest of the city as well. Nature slowly gripped at the fringe and spread inwards. Fewer and fewer people from small knitted communities bunkered down at specific points of the city's corners and more and more infected conquered other areas that now, they were beyond recovering. A world grew smaller and smaller beyond human control.
If it wasn't death by the infection or a nuclear bomb, then time was suffocating the city to a slow and insidious death.
"...You'd better be alive and breathing, Harris."
It was a pointless hope. That didn't mean she couldn't try.
Just as she glanced back to the bow, something else caught her attention. It was at the edge of the nearby coast, hidden by rocks and supports. Boats. Similiar to the one she had.
Abandoned? She did see something move across the deck...
Jack turned back to cruising, half a mind on going straight to her destination. But she gave a quick glance to the rear mirror.
In only a moment, those boats had left their spots and speeded behind her. Three of them.
Yup, trouble heading her way.
It certainly wasn't the Navy. They'd shoot her down.
Jack hit the throttle.
Faster, faster Caroline went. Her tailers picked this up and immediately tried to catch up.
She already knew it was unavoidable - it didn't take long for one of them to be neck-to-neck with her vehicle.
And on that boat were three men. One at the wheel, two at the starboard.
Orange suits. Prisoners.
And they certainly weren't here to give hospitality.
"Stop the boat!" One swayed a Glock from his belt and pointed shakingly at her, every wave rocking his balance a bit.
No. Jack made a hard turn on the wheel to the right.
BAM!
It was a clear miss! But any of the next bullets could surely hit her. Or the engine.
A straight line all the way to the Slums was a no-go now.
"After her!"
A boat chase. This early in the morning too. She steered her boat left and right, ducking from the bullets. How free and happy the convicts must have felt to be using firearms - they didn't have to worry about the infected out in the ocean.
And she hated guns.
So change of plans: to the Coast. On the ground, she could have a better chance. Sorta.
"We ain't trying to kill ya, lady!" one prisoner burst with laughter, thinking of a prize better than the boat itself.
"Capsize her!"
THUD!
"Hey! You'll ruin the paint job!" she hollered, before hissing to herself, "Lenny's gonna kill me!"
"Shit! It's that thing!"
Thing? What thing? Jack quickly peered back. All of a sudden, the men put the brakes on; one boat making a quick 180 around.
"Fall back! FALL BACK NOW!"
And just like that, they backed away.
Why?!
The brunette looked ahead, searching for a threat big enough to scare off convicts. Nothing above the water but the surface had evidence; trails of seafoam heading to her direction.
Whatever it was, it was underwater. And it was already right on top of Jack before she could do anything.
THUD!
"Shit!"
Despite her best effort to avoid it, the unknown thing hit the bow. Hard.
CRASH!
The sheer force bashed the boat right to a 45-angle left, diving right into a stone pier. All she could do was brace for the impact and go along with the shaky ride.
KLUNK!
"GARGH!" Her whole body went flying, right onto a pile of blue garbage bags, cushioning her abrupt fall. The full brunt knocked the wind right out of her. For a few undesirable seconds, her vision went blurry as she rolled off with a painful huff. Her mind told her to get up and run. She wasn't alone on the dock. She couldn't waver. Biters everywhere, staggering towards the one noise they heard: her.
Then she remembered the boat. Its side smashed and with nothing to pilot it, it aimlessly drifted away from the stoned dock. Away from her.
"Shit!" Jack forced herself onto her knees. She had to hurry-
"Grooooaaawnn!" Coming in unexpectedly, an 8-foot-tall Goon lifted up a piece of rebar. High up it went, ready to crack open her head like a watermelon.
"Whoa!"
THUD!
The concrete beneath the spot she was just on cracked apart as she skidded a good three, or five feet across the ground on her bum. The Goon's hollow white eyes glimpsed with raw instinct. To kill a puny human.
Her situation couldn't get any better! Jack's pursuers decided to take her crash as an opportunity and came back for Round Two, slowing closer to Caroline. Or because they wanted to get to land before whatever thing in the sea would get to them too.
Whatever. She was either going to deal with the zombies or the prisoners. or both.
"You know what? Keep it!"
She bolted like a bat out of Hell before the next swing cracked into the floor.
Nobody would dare go up and fight a Goon. That's crazy thinking! And she had her fair share of craziness - just not the right opportunity right now and after that talk with Bones. Jack knew the odds and it was very much against her. She was weaponless, defenseless and carried little on her - the rest of her equipment was now at the bottom of the sea.
A fistfight couldn't help this time with her opponents...more resilient than most fighters. But speed was another best tool she could use in times like this. So Jack took off in a harsh sprint from the swinging rebar. No time to stop for a split second.
There was just one slight problem. She had nowhere safe to go! After the pier was a two-storey-tall, thirty-foot-long barricade. An extra wing of Harran's City Walls nudged into the coastline and stretched from one end of the beach to the other. It was a new addition after the rebuilding of those surrounding walls in the past, now barred with all sorts of barricades to keep any infected from hopping over into the next door municipality. The Coast was a closed-off area for a reason; the GRE and authorities established a means of protection for the nearby quarantine areas, bordering off the shorelines and the city of Harren. Keeping the infection and anyone else out.
That was the reason why she took the route in the first place! No infected along the coastline and most of all, no Navy.
Now she was going to pay the price.
"Someone! Anyone!" she hollered along the side. Just one kind soul over the wall to hear her and pull her over, which was highly unlikely. They'd shoot her on sight. If she must, she was going to have to take a dip in and face whatever was lurking in the water.
On second thought, she'd take her luck in finding a port and a working vehicle. Anything.
Something did hear her cry from beyond the walls. It just so happened that it perched itself up at one of the nearby coastal high-rises. The voice of a panicked human rang like that of a dinner bell. Golden eyes snapped towards the direction of Jack's voice, ushering it to go closer to the walls in an animalistic manner. There, faintly, was the blurry outline of a skeletal figure sprinting across a monochromatic world. That was what the creature - covered in worn drapes - saw; the target flared just as brightly as the sun.
A prey running to its dinner plate. It whiffed the air, catching her scent from fifty or more feet away.
With a low hiss out of its mouth - declaring to itself that it was set for the newcomer, it dropped off its perch. A horrendous tendril made of flesh fired right out of its split-open claw and to a lampost before its feet could touch the ground. The momentum swung the creature under the protective shadows of the buildings. Right towards the woman in red.
The hunter loomed after the hunted along the great walls.
And Jack didn't know it was coming. She had the usual small fry coming for her ankles.
Her run, however, dropped to a skip and a halt as her eyes widened at a new sight. Crumpled rocks laid waste on the floor. From a giant hole in the wall.
What? When did this open up? Layers of concrete and reinforced steel destroyed like that? A Demolisher?
No! Stop the questions. They didn't matter right now. Her life did!
The gurgling groans and snarls closed in right behind her. Surrounding her. The walkers picked up the pace on their new prey as she galloped through the tear. Sure enough, beyond the walls were more infected, heads spinning around to fresh tasty meat on legs.
It was like a gazelle running along the waterhole all the predators came for a drink.
Perfect! As if she didn't have enough problems!
"Get up, Jackie! The floor's lava!"
With a foot on a fence and another on a sliding, she swished her way up to the second deck of coastal houses. Hopping from one balcony to the next, Jack eyed around for any likely safe spot to stay for a good amount of time, just to get her bearings again. Either way, being up and above was far safer than being below on the streets.
Because oh boy, was it not a pleasant side. This city was riddled with Biters and Virals, just like Harran-
"Graaargh!"
"Oomph!" She didn't notice one Viral coming fast at her, out from an open door and both came tumbling off the balcony. This time, there was no soft cushion for Jack. "Gargh!"
A blinding pain wracked through her body in an instant. Her ears rang with vertigo hitting her like a kick to the head. Did she hope her skull was fine - Bones would never forgive her if he heard about this. But as her head cleared up, she felt another source of pain still lingering.
On her leg. The Viral that fell down with her was latching onto it, climbing its way up her body with a hiss.
"Get off me!" She kicked it off with one fell swoop. One quick check on her leg and luckily, there wasn't a bite mark. No sign of tear in the fabric But she did get a scratch during the tussle - beads of blood trickling from her hand.
A bite wasn't and shouldn't be her main concern. Because a second Viral was darting after her from across the street.
Quickly, her hand searched behind her and gripped a pipe lying around. The space between them wasn't enough time for her to use it to the fullest potential as a weapon - the infected runner already pinning her down with its rotten body, flaying saliva at her. Jack quickly pushed back the snapping jaws with the metal at the neck and one shoe pushing back on the chest. And on an important matter; she was spending too long on the ground.
Seriously? This was how she was gonna end up? Getting eaten by these bastards?
"Mad Jack isn't gonna die here! Not. Until. I say so!" She booted the Viral right off her. A moment to herself and she jumped up onto her feet once more.
For a second, she prepared herself. She had a weapon now. The next second, she realized she could be doing the pet project on the go. But oh, it couldn't be that easy. Why wasn't her choice of weapon a blade?!
"Gaaarh!" The Viral she had kicked off wailed its warcry at her, ushering more of its comrades to come join it and tackle their prey. The more company, the easier it would be to feast.
Jack ran her bleeding hand along the metal pipe's point and battered up at the charging Viral. Right at its open mouth. Yellowed teeth flew as the infected collapsed from the impact. Jack wheeled to the next incoming freak, ignoring the sudden choking and gurgling behind her.
Body count: two. But more infected flooded into the open space she found herself in, magnetized to her brash fighting.
As much as she joked with Bones at the confident idea she'd let the Biters take a snack at her, that was a fool's idea and she knew it! All the while, she didn't see the hunter shifting in the urban canopies above her.
Waiting.
Just for the right moment to dive onto her. The small fry made a good distraction, receiving a good whack to the head. Less competition and the prey could tire out. But what kept it from jumping at the right timing, sinking its teeth right into her flesh, was the burning UV rays - the sun particularly sheltered her in a mocking way to the hunter. Board daylight; a Special infected's weakness but not enough to ward off the lesser ones.
A clicking sound erupted from its throat out of growing impatience as another infected made a frantic dash to claim the fighting prey before it could, only to have its face clobbered in.
Another Viral hared towards Jack, screaming its head off. Two choices she could make now; make a path or stay and fight. The first sounded better in her head!
Just as she was about to swing at the approaching Viral, then make a break for it-
"Rrrargh!"
The Viral was gone. Two bodies rolled off, the force nearly taking her along for the ride. Clank, her pipe hit the ground and away from her hands, having been caught by something during the tumble. As she got up, she saw one infected rise up triumphantly over the other - the bigger-sized one - and exhume out another roar so loud and fierce that it made Jack's heart jump to her throat.
It was pure domination that expressed the words: "this one is mine!", outright telling the small scamp was outmatched before it went after the prey. A brief moment of the Viral's humanity came back; him pleading out of sudden terror but the bigger foe had no sense in listening.
Jack scrambled away as far as she could go, only to have her back hit the stone rim of a fountain while she bore witness to a one-sided feral fight.
And it was brutal.
Smack! Down a balled-up fist, then the next fist. Again and again. Brain matter and bits of bones scattered from every hit.
It had been a while since Jack felt fear, shaking in her shoes. Because that thing was a beast! Bashing the Viral to a bloody pulp with its bare fists!
Fists? Wait. Zombies don't punch. They flay their arms at victims in an attempt to overwhelm them, but they didn't have a shred of intelligence to know how to 'punch'. And those fists? They were split-opened claws, enough to tear flesh apart instead of beating on meat.
Suddenly, the yellow eyes snapped right onto her. They glowed as bright as fireflies under the shade of the fountain. The hunter bared its canines at her in a loud snarl.
That was enough to make the brawler freeze on the spot. Jack couldn't tear away from them. This infected...Jack hadn't seen its kind before. She had encountered all sorts: Biters, Virals, even Volatiles. But this...Beastly was on a whole new and different level. Just the sheer build spoke volumes - she could already guess how hideous its whole body had to be with bone spikes piercing out of the back of its shredded clothing.
She couldn't see the face; the bastard wore some sort of head covering before that turned into rags. Maybe long after its infection. That was good. Of course, she didn't want to see its ugly mugshot.
But it was clear to her. The beastly's eyes were locked on the one thing in the entire square. Angier. More bloodthirsty than a regular infected's primal instinct.
As if some sort of switch inside its head flipped on at the sight of her, she could read exactly what it wanted in those eyes.
It wanted Jack.
"Fuck! Are you kidding me?!"
It howled.
The hunt was on.
She climbed back onto her feet and bolted for an uphill street. No time to vault up to the roofs when she could feel Beastly hound after her. On foot! It could outmatch any professional athlete!
It didn't help that the dead onlookers weren't giving Jack way either. They hawked right behind her, around her and in front of her.
But if they were going to make it difficult for her, she might as well do the same.
"Ragh!" she cried and punched one freak for standing in her way. Another down for the count. But the rest? She couldn't waste her energy on both fighting and running together. Jack chose to keep sprinting.
The predator's roars did make her look back. For a quick second to see the thing flung off a few backers like annoying flies swarming to the tasty meal on the go. Sounded like the tough guy didn't want to share her with the other infected. She took that conflict between 'their kind' as a blessing in disguise.
"HEY!"
Jack gazed up at the voice of a very young woman. Up the stretch of road ahead, she spotted a heavily fenced-up warehouse that greatly stood out from the other buildings - hastily-made bridges and canopies above with ropes and barred spikes decorating the top. Up and down jumped a short black-haired person on a platform there, waving her arms at the brunette.
"This way!" the youngster hollered.
Survivors!
Two more joined the youngster on the top of the platform, all three clearly in similar runner attires. They took to spotlights with the purple lens stationed on the platform and propped them up like assault rifles, right in the brunette's direction.
"Blast it!"
At first, the lights didn't seem to do anything, almost invisible under the bright sun. But the sound of sizzling skin and aggravated hisses made her realize one thing. Ultraviolet lights.
"Open the gates! Hurry!" the black-haired girl hollered down below, which whoever was behind the gates compelled. The heavy grate doors growled loudly but opened too slowly. It was a tight squeeze, which Jack quickly dropped down into a skid and slid right through the narrow gap.
A loud roar echoed behind her. It didn't sound like the predator with the golden eyes. That was a lot bigger.
"Close it! Close it!" the youngster hollered in panic.
One thug that towered even most men Jack knew in her lifetime hurried to the center of the gates and with all his strength, cranked them shut. The gates suddenly banged, the force pushing even the hulk off his feet. Time was ticking: the teenager quickly dropped down to hurry up with the locks while more people joined, armed to the teeth to handle the big guy outside.
"Keep those UV lights on that thing! Get some heat out there now!" The dominating voice of a man boomed across the front yard of the warehouse, with a limp in his leg. "Will, go check out our visitor."
Jack couldn't sit up and watch the rushed activities unfolding around her. Looking back with her vision upside-down didn't help her assess her whole situation either. But she was safe and sound. Help was here. Wrapping a stethoscope around his neck that he had carried in his hand, an old man in his fifties kneeled beside her and immediately uttered words she took time to comprehend. First, it was Turkish? Polish next?
Then he tried English, "are you alright?"
More or less but Jack was all too weary to speak up. She simply listened to the sounds telling her that things slowly got back to control within the warehouse. Running for her dear life did her body in a little. Every muscle in her burned. She was even too numb and tired to notice the doctor examining her for any injuries. Her breathing, her pressure, all the basics of first aid. After all, her mind was too preoccupied right then and there.
This day wasn't supposed to end like this. Her boat wasn't supposed to crash, she wasn't supposed to make an emergency pitstop into the Coastline and she definitely knew this city wasn't supposed to be overrun with the infected.
None of this was how she planned. But then again, some of her plans never went entirely the way she wanted them to go.
"B-Bloody fucking dandy…" was all she could muster out as a murmur. Jack finally let the exhaustion win the battle this time and shut her eyes. Didn't matter if she received more pain when the back of her head hit the dirt. She was gone out like a light.
One thing was for certain. She was stuck in Scanderoon for a while.
A/N: Hello all. So this is my interpretation of what happens after the Following. Or in other words: what happens when you've been having a lot of fun writing a sequel to the Vile ending, right down to even game ideas (especially when you have a game design degree!). But DL has become a gem to me that I wanted to do a complex fanfic that not only continues after the end but picture it like it's a whole new game: from new locations, new enemy types, new plot points and characters, new explorations, new combat and so on.
What made me start on this fic and even the game itself, I have to give thanks to a youtuber (GalmHD) for let's playing it. It got me to go into the game itself for all its lore and story, while having fun with my close friend for shenanigans. I had already started this fic before I first played it (mostly cuz I got spoiled to the ending thanks to Youtube autoplaying that one scene...whoopie.) But the ending, the game, everything, motivated me to construct a huge sequel. And once I finished the game, it made me even more determined to write on - a sorta redemption/closure fic to the game.
This is still a Kyle Crane story, no matter what. This is his redemption arc while the red herring protagonist, Mad Jack, is to serve as his wingmate (for a lot of reasons later on, cough) - with plans and circumstances that will affect the development between them, for the better or worse. And yes, it's OCs, but I do hope each original creation I make is as fresh and well-polished to your liking, even for Mad Jack - a more rounded brawler with her own personality, backstory, and own gameplay skillset. I know people aren't mostly fond of OCs, which is why right now, I'm gonna say this: she's basically just the deuteragonist for the majority of the plot.
Moreover, Jack is a creation based around the relationship between Brecken, Jade and Rahim. I found it odd how for some lines, Brecken was a bit protective over the two. And of course, there could be reasons. But I've always thought of an idea that there was someone being a common denominator between them that created the bonds between them. A link. So Jack Brecken, aka Mad Jack the Wild Dog, based on how I think she'd interact with these three people - Brecken's cousin, Jade's rival and mentor and Rahim's guardian before the outbreak. And with that, created one powerful plot point I have: Kyle Crane learning Jack knew the siblings and keeping the secret from her that they are dead. Something I've yet to come down this fic but it's gonna be one emotional part of the story. Plus, I designed Jack to provide a darker counterpart to Crane and to highlight the facets of his personality. Metaphorically, while Crane represents white lies, Jack represents the brutal truth. The false hero, and the honest villain. There is going to be a lot of dynamics I have, not just between them but with the whole world of Descent.
Another note: I've been plotting out the overall plot, divided into 5 main arcs (prologue arc is currently being revamped on the go). And with the rise of Dying Light 2 close around the corner, I have some ideas of how this fic can tie into that story without having any problem of lack of continuity. As stated on paper for the end of DL, Harran has fallen and so are all characters and that will be what I'll follow too (at least for the canon ending anyway) to make this fic a possible open-end tie to DL2. It was right to me to make plans on how the ending will be because honestly, anything like an outbreak or a war or a disaster - people die. And you can't stop the inevitable. I'll give my conclusion once I read that last page of Descent.
Ok enough rambling. I hope you'll enjoy this and review. Please let me know if there are some problems or mistakes I can improve on. Or lore I should tackle. Thank you very much and welcome to the Descent.
Edit, 10/10/19: Hey all, this is a minor update which probably current readers won't see but I'm going over my chapters for some small revamp and fixes. Nothing too major but also some added things to make the flow better. One thing I'm doing is organizing these chapters and separating them into arcs so I'm not all over the place onwards. There'll be a total of four arcs, and a fifth being the prologue arc.
18/10/19 - Reedited for minor mistakes and errors.
13/8/20 - Reedited minor mistakes and errors. Added a small important key story dialogue.
1/2/2021 and 5/1/2021 - Changed timestamp and added minor details according to new timeline of Descent.
25/12/21 - Edited some phrasings.
15/2/22 - Went over a full chapter edit with some fixes, retwists, deletes and adjustments. Added more description into the first encounter between Jack and Freakazoid.
5/10/22 - Fixed some lines.
18/2/23 - Made new cover page. You can find it on Dying Light: The Descent blog or on this fanfic under Ao3. Sad FFN doesn't allow bigger images.
21/2/23 - Edited some lines and /
23/2/23 - Edited more lines, tweaked some of the mood and pacing.
16/4/23 - Added a new section of a boat chase before Jack's crash. Made it a little more realistic than just something in the waters hit her.