Chapter Summary
- FIND A WAY TO HARRAN
Nobody has heard from the Tower in a while now. And the way from the Coast to the Slums isn't exactly encouraging for safe travel... That isn't going to stop me. - Jack
ONE: BREAKING THE ICE
Light was a survivor's...long-time good friend. It had been a companion to the first humans when they discovered fire. Throughout history, light has been so powerful to purge away fears and doubts at the darkest times, whether by nature or by humanity's hands. Now, its purpose was served once again—more so than ever. It may provide a period of peace and liberty for the people of Scanderoon—a second city overrun by the undead—at a time when they desperately needed daylight
But those moments were brief.
The Biters loomed the streets, slow and sluggish under the sun—like lazy stray cats sunbathing—while the Specials hid in the darkest parts of the urban depths. The only way they would stir up is if a poor sob had floundered into their neck of the woods and then dragged away to become a nice, tasty meal for breakfast. So in some way, the day was a form of dangerous comfort. One slipup was all it took to be tackled by a Viral or two.
That comfort was only temporary. Once the sun was down, the nights became a whole different story. Any living human could only endure the nighttime and wait it out. Every morning, the bright rays of the rising sun were a single grace they would welcome with satisfaction. Relief. The overwhelming joy of surviving the horrible night. A new vicious, deceiving cycle with the seemingly endless delusion of hope.
That was how the light was in these growing dark times.
It was, however, too annoying for Jack's eyes. Or was that the doctor's penlight pointed at her?
"Is she going to be okay?"
"At best, she suffers from a headache. At worst, her head's cracked open. Would be nice if this rickety place had some medical equipment."
"You know what Mahir said. Hospitals' got too many ways for the infected to crawl in, Doc."
"Aye, aye, what Mahir said..." The penlight was off but Jack's eyes still stung. She could feel the doctor examine the back of her head. "Looks like this isn't your first head trauma. I can't tell if you're lucky or unlucky."
"Sorry. Could someone close the curtains? It's bloody bright in here," Jack groaned with every fiber fighting her inertia.
"Hmm," the old man with a moustache scratched his chin. "Must have taken more than just a beating to the noggin' if you're this sensitive to light." He gestured to someone in the background, a woman with casual wear and her sleeves rolled up, and he complied with Jack's wishes.
"Being pushed off from the second floor can do that. I think."
Once the light dimmed with the scratching of curtain rings, her vision readjusted. She was on a makeshift bed, on top of boxes that gave her back problems. From what she could tell, she was in an office that had been turned into a small temporary doctor's room. Before her was the old man, his assistant with a clipboard and the young tan-skinned teenager slouched by the door.
"Yes. That would do that... Nonetheless, you've got a clean bill of health. Williams' the name but you can call me Will," the old bloke introduced himself. "Forcefully-appointed doctor of the Junction."
"Because you're the only one with the most experience," the assistant pointed.
"A professor in Anthropology isn't a doctor. There's a difference."
"Jack." She pinched her nose to squeeze herself out of her drowsiness. "For what it's worth...I've gone through worse."
"I've noticed." The old British man crouched his frown. "Other than a headache, you should be fine. But those bites are a concern."
"She's been bitten?" one of the girls uttered with a tint of worry. And a hint of wariness.
"I didn't get bitten," Jack assured them. She was sure about it during her run. And it was just a scratch - she glanced down at the bandage under her glove.
"Not recent, no. But you've had a couple before, haven't you?" Well, the doctor saw the healed ones. "Did you go one-on-one with those Biters?"
"How long was I out?" she forced the question out, shoving away Will's instead.
"Around two days. You needed after what happened. You certainly stirred the whole neighborhood up."
"Two days?" she groaned, her shaking head in her hands. "...Wonderful. Everyone back home must be going crazy."
The old man knitted his eyebrows together, having a harder look at their new visitor. That expression was the kind that people have seen her face before. Especially with a shaking, pointing finger at her.
"You look mighty familiar. Were you on TV before?"
Oh, this again.
Jack cracked out a wide smile. Brushed her half-haziness out of her system. "Probably. My face's recognizable."
The shaking finger grew more aggressive. "You're Mad Jack."
And there it was. The one and only.
"Guilty as charged." She nodded proudly.
"Yes! The Wild Dog. At the Global Trial Championship tournament! In 2011!" Will's grin was wide. He wheeled back to the other two ladies in the room, despite their faces clearly showing they had no clue what the doctor was talking about.
"Who?" the young girl uttered, her tone sounding unimpressed. Jack frowned at that jab but shrugged it off. Her reputation was but old news to the new generation - complete forgettable over the current champion.
"She was the kickboxing world champion back then. Three times in a row," Will explained. "A hellraiser that sent shivers down rookies' spines."
"Actually, four. And that's a bit of an exaggeration-"
"Exaggeration is an understatement," Will chuckled. "I still remember that one time! You bit the Cannon's ear right off. Outside the ring."
"Oh, that. Well. Masha didn't mind a little warm-up."
"Then that officer you broke both legs right after that one time-?"
"That bloke had it coming," her tone suddenly took a 180, expressing clear disapproval. "Claims it was a search-up. But his grubby hands said otherwise."
The calm, icy outburst surprised the assistant in the back. There was a story - with two sides that neither felt was the legitimacy behind their words. But the old man slapped his knee with a loud laugh, as if finding it all humorous. "Aha! The legend herself."
"I didn't know you were into kickboxing, Doctor," Hadya exclaimed.
"My wife was. Rest her soul," he explained. "She found you an inspiration. I heard that you were starting self-defense classes this year."
"I may be retired but I do need to pay the bills. So, yes, I was opening up classes... Before the outbreak happened," Jack explained sheepishly.
The doctor gave an apologetic nod. "She would have loved to see your classes. That's for sure."
Jack chuckled. "If it's any consolation, I would have been honored to have her as a student."
"Ha ha! Once my days are outnumbered, I can tell her I met Mad Jack in the flesh."
"Will!" Hadya hollered. "Seriously."
But the old man just rumbled on with loud laughter, folding away his stethoscope before he pulled out a small bottle. A familiar-looking bottle before taking an injection gun from his assistant.
Jack's grin twitched at the corners.
"I'm joking. It'll take more to bring me down," Will assured as he snapped the vial into the injection gun. "We shouldn't keep you here any longer. There's enough Anizitin to share around-"
"That won't be necessary." The response came out too fast. Jack almost thought she had made a rookie mistake when the professor looked at her funny. So did the other two - the young lass frowning and looking mighty dubious. "Had my shot before I ended up here."
At first, the old man gave the kind of expression she remembered her grandfather giving - his stare drilling into her to see her backtrack. Will, however, gradually yielded.
"If you say so. Just keep in mind. We're all in this together."
"Through thick and thin," she hummed.
Will passed the bottle to her - a gesture telling her the offer still stood - before getting up to leave the office room.
"If that headache doesn't go away, drop by the sickbay. Or any reason. I'd like to hear more from the Wild Dog herself over a cup of tea," he gave the invitation so eagerly. "Siv, show her around, would you? This one's a keeper."
The assistant followed the professor out of the room, leaving the brunette and the young Turkish runner behind. And Jack could immediately read the change in the air; the sudden thick tension between them. She didn't have to sense it; the expression on the runt's face particularly put daggers into her - she did not like the newcomer one bit. Hell, the whole posture and attire exhumed a rebellious, tomboyish attitude out loud - with medium-lengthed sleeves and a bit of jungle green for contrast in her accessories and military cap. But that immediate distrust was already there because of their whole situation. Strangers put together in one Safe Zone against a common threat.
Now how light should Jack tread around this girl's feet?
"So. You're some bigshot champion. Mad Jack," the young lady, Siv, huffed out with hands in the pockets of her baggy pants.
"Retired. Passed that torch over to someone else years ago."
The teenager's narrowed eyes scanned the older woman, from head to toes. With a "hmph", she continued, "You're not gonna survive for five minutes."
"Excuse me?"
"I saw you out there. You were running like a headless chicken."
"That's because I didn't think this city would have the Harran virus here." And that was a good statement she brought up herself, making her think. "I thought this place was quarantined, wasn't it?"
"Three months ago," Siv answered. "Doesn't matter how and why, it's here. Now, it's 'do or die'. You're gonna have to pull your weight around here if you wanna keep up, Granny."
"Granny? Hon, I'm barely out of my prime. You think you can do a better job than me?" Jack playfully pushed.
"I can certainly outrun you." The runner strolled out of the office room. "Mahir's downstairs.
Welcome to Scanderoon."
And off she disappeared. Such a warm, welcoming introduction. Complete disregard that she was politely asked to show the newcomer around the place.
But Jack didn't take offense to it.
She snorted. "Cheeky girl. Reminds me too much of Champ."
Just before she was about to leave, she realized something was amiss on her face, prompting her to pat down her jacket. When it wasn't in any of her pockets, she glanced around before spotting it on the desk. The pair of sports sunglasses she wore had a few minor scratches under the glare of the light, but she had never thrown them away.
She had never taken them off during the day, and certainly she wasn't leaving them behind.
Not when sunlight was atrocious.
Once she clipped them on her sling bag, she made her way to the ground floor and saw the inner workings of the Junction. The constructed, shabby but durable Safe Zone in the Industrial District. Cubicle-like walls were placed up to make individual rooms: important stations like vendors, kitchen, sickbay, living quarters, etc. Impressive for a group of civilian survivors but she could tell they were underequipped. It was a miracle that they had stood against the tides for three months. Perhaps they had heard the news about Harran that some folks decided to be prepared on their toes.
"-It's not looking good, Boss. Those bastards' been getting to the drops first these days."
She found what was probably the command room—five people around a map pinned down on the table in the breakroom. There were noticeable pieces from board games along the surface, good enough to pinpoint locations and symbolize their own significant representations on the map. It was better than nothing.
One man in his mid-thirties had the makings of an experienced leader from the military. He heaved a heavy sigh. "Rotate the rations for the next three days and take a break. Let's see if B-Team can get the ones up north."
The other people gave disappointed looks but eventually obeyed, accepting the fact that it was all they could do for the time being.
"And send word to Dua. We need another two boxes of Anitizin as soon as possible."
The four adults took their departure from the command room, but the leader's face brightened up at the sight of Jack.
For once, it was great news to see someone outside the Junction alive.
"Welcome back to the living, newcomer." He held out his arms with praise as if her presence could lighten up the mood inside the room, which was left stale once the dispirited men strolled out, with the exception of one man staying back at a small radio station. "We don't have much. But we've got coffee." He held out his hand and Jack accepted it with a shake.
"Mahir, I take?"
He nodded. "That was rather daring of you to be out on the Coast. Those freaks seem more feral by the shore than in the city, Miss...?"
"Call me Jack. From the Outskirts."
"The Outskirts? As in Harran?"
She nodded.
Mahir was indeed surprised. "You're very far away from home. That's on the other side of the Old City. Where the first outbreak happened."
"Near Sector 0."
"I heard that place was quarantined."
"And I've heard this city was walled off."
"Heh," Mahir scorned loudly, leaning back on the table. "Clearly, it didn't last long. If you managed to get here without trouble, then anything from Harran can get in too."
"True. I was trying to get to the Slums through the channels. But here I am," Jack chided, ignoring Mahir's shocked look that clearly read, "How crazy are you to be heading to that place?".
"Can't depend on the authorities to fix this problem anymore. Look at how they handled Harran. We're sick. And we need to stay alive. We're the only ones who can do something." Mahir's face grimaced.
"Hence, the Junction. Consider another pair of hands from a Harran citizen to help out," Jack boasted. "I'm pretty seasoned."
"That's what we need." A pause, as if the leader had something next to say. "So...the Outskirts. Do you...know a woman named Asem? Asem Karga."
Jack's eyebrows rose. Now, that was something she never expected.
"Why, as a matter of fact, yes. She's in charge of the group I'm affiliated with. The Ravens. Ravs for short."
There was a sigh of relief. Mahir clearly grasped at straws and took a shot in the dark to ask that question—a gamble that anyone could possibly meet one woman with that name. Once he got the answer he wanted, a grin smirked wide across the tall man's face. His shoulders slouched down, a little lighter than before.
"Yeah, she would do that… Glad to hear she's doing fine."
So he knew Asem. Hm. "Far better than anyone else dealing with this outbreak. She definitely knows how to handle a rifle."
The next laugh came out loud and warm. That statement gave the man more resolve—like hearing a long-time friend alive and well. "She's right in her element then. I imagine the Outskirts is as tough as it is here."
"More or less. Those freaks outside gave me a run for my money, mate."
"Sounds like any runner's story here. Well, mostly from Siv."
"The girl with the short hair, right?" she asked. "You should keep her off the streets. I can see that gal doing something real daft one of these days."
"Won't deny that. But she's capable if she doesn't get ahead of herself. And we're low on numbers. If it wasn't for her, we wouldn't have our runners."
"So she's in charge of the runners? All of you-?"
"No, no. I couldn't pull myself on the bars like I used to. And," he lifted up one of his leggings, showing a prosthetic leg. "I can't really run nowadays."
"...Sorry about that."
"None taken. I'm surprised I've managed this far," Mahir then continued to move on with the conversation. "We have about ten runners here. The rest are ex-military like me, staff, civilians, and anyone else crazy enough to get supplies on foot."
That didn't sound good to her. "Understaffed, aren't you?"
"All hands on deck here."
"Just tell everyone to be extra careful when going outside. Especially with a new type out there."
"New?" There was a look of concern written all over the leader's face. "What do you mean by that?"
More like she had no idea how to explain it. But anyone would need the new info just to be safe. "I don't know. Some bloody...freakazoid chased me all the way from the beach. A hunter."
"A Night Hunter?" The name seemed to click to Mahir, looking more concerned with that piece of information. "In broad daylight? That's not possible. They only come out at night. As the name says. Deadlier than the Volatiles."
"Well, this one was prancing around like he owned the place. Sounds like these things are pretty common here."
"But not in the Outskirts? Like I said, only at night. Still...a Hunter running amok in the day... Thanks," Mahir said, but his stern face didn't soften. "I'll let everyone know."
At first, Jack thought the good gesture and shaking hands were a good way to break the ice. But the man's quiet expression then told her that wasn't enough for a stranger like her. He eventually folded his arms, like an interviewer waiting to be wowed.
"Since you've offered yourself as an extra pair of hands, mind telling me what you can do? Or are you gonna be another deadweight to us?"
"Deadweight? Now I'm offended." Jack jested with a palm on her chest. "If you want to get rid of me that badly, then I'll walk myself out the door."
"You can. But you're no ordinary person. People's talking about you being a famous kickboxer."
My, word goes around. "My reputation precedes me. And it's 'retired'."
"Hm-hm. And can you tell me that you're really 'retired' from the fighting? You look the type who might just get up and leave after a good night's sleep."
Right, the trust game. She couldn't blame him - she had her fair share of picking allies and enemies. Before and after the outbreak.
"Hey, I'm with Asem. That's good enough for you to know what I'm friend."
"But I only know her. I don't know you."
"I should say the same to you. How do I know this is the same woman we're talking about?"
"You don't. But what choice do you have?"
The silence hung tight, neither side folding their cards down. Eventually, with a soft sigh, Jack was the first to yield. After all, there was no ill intent in the man's body language.
"Alright," Jack started, ready to give her all on a well-done pitch.
Time to sell herself.
"I'm not the kickboxing champion I once was. But I am what you'd call...a specialist."
"Specialist?"
"Retrieval, mostly. Name anything you want and I can fetch it without a problem. People too. With a bit of compensation."
"So you're a service for hire."
"It is hard to bring someone back alive. Won't ask for money. It isn't in the Ravs' rulebook."
"And all of you are the same?"
"Just me. The Ravens follow Asem. They help folks in the Outskirts anyhow they can. Scavenging, thinning out the infected population, etc."
"Then what do you do?"
"I make distractions. I go in with all the whistles and bells. Get the heat off good people."
"That's...a risky role you got there."
"It helps. And it just might help you too. Crows are loud and notorious."
There was a long pause between them as if he wasn't convinced by Jack's pitch. Certainly, he gave it some thought. Then he smirked widely. "...Asem picked a good friend. One with balls."
"She has a good eye on people."
"Oooh-ho," Mahir chuckled. "That she does."
"I'm only here until I get my boat. Like I said, I was on my way to the Slums before I made this pitstop."
"Fair enough." He stood up, directing her to the map. "Just be careful looking for this boat of yours. Water's too dangerous for anyone to sail out to sea."
"You don't have to tell me twice," she muttered under her breath.
"There's also two more places you should be aware." He pointed at the map. "One is the Checkpoint. The way out of the Coast. Military and GRE are keeping people from leaving Scanderoon."
"GRE?" Mahir nodded his head. Jack grumbled under her breath. Wonderful. "Imagine that. They're still cleaning up their mess."
GRE. Global Relief Effect. The name was just as infamous as her name as the Wild Dog. On record and to the whole world, it was one of those humanitarian organizations, dedicated to supporting and helping people under large crises - from warzones to natural disasters. And GRE was called in for the new epidemic event, working so comfortably with the Ministry of Defence. They were the ones who sent in the airdrops over at Harran, giving every day a shred of hope to the citizens that all would be alright.
But she had heard stories. And there were more stories she witnessed over at the Outskirts.
"Heard they were responsible for the virus getting out in Harran," Mahir commented in a grim, disapproving tone.
"So says the rumor," she said with no hesitation. "Might be the truth."
"Whatever the case is, it's none of our business as long as GRE leaves us alone. They're the least of our concern."
"And the ones we should worry about aren't the infected?"
"Convicts," the answer came to Jack rather out of the left field. "They're all over the Bayside. Pirating, pillaging. Their men have tried to ransack this place a couple of times."
"Now that is a problem."
"More than you know it. They have their own boxing ring to relieve the stress. Bunch of lunatics," Mahir scoffed.
"Boxing?" she almost sang that word out. "Sounds like my kind of alley."
Mahir glimpsed at Jack with a look of concern. He didn't like the sound of her enthusiasm. "These are dangerous men, Jack. They don't treat ladies kindly."
She cocked an eyebrow, offended. "Who says I'm gonna treat them kindly either?"
He held his palms out. "Don't say I didn't warn you." He leaned against the table, watching the brunette digest the whole map. Attentive to the details. "Scanderoon's a lot bigger than Harran. So it might take some time to get your bearings."
"I've visited this city once. But I'm sure I can find my way around." She did catch one area on the map with her eye, crossed out with every single mark that spelt 'don't go here'. Jack lightly tapped on it. "I do remember this was the Suburbans."
"That place's a no-go. For everyone. First area that got hit with the virus." Mahir intentionally grabbed a mug and covered the area. If Jack didn't know any better, he didn't want to give her the wild idea to visit there. But it also told her; many have died there, their names added to the list.
Made sense the more she recalled her landmarks - right next to the Suburbans was the edge of Harran. The outline of Harran's dam was right beside it on the worn piece of paper. The Outskirts was just beyond.
The odd thing was one symbol drawn in the Suburban area - a sun symbol with a cross over it. Like a warning.
She could have pried. But the atmosphere didn't suit the timing.
"That's it, really," Mahir suddenly uttered, a bit too loud to hide his discomfort. "Just look for the clocktower and you can't lose yourself in this city."
"I'll take note of that."
"Good. Now that formalities are out of the way...make yourself at home," he struggled, both of them knowing calling the place 'home'. "Be prepared, though. The locals are gonna hound you for work"
Home. Jack was already feeling right at home in the Junction.
"I'm happy to serve."
The Junction was one place of sanctuary in the middle of the industrial area. The added reinforcements on the walls reflected the work done over the past months to keep everyone safe inside. Alongside that, a network of bridges and lines connected to the nearby buildings—paths high above the ground, making it easily accessible for humans to traverse. No need to walk along the infested streets. They had been built up in a way that if one route was overcome, it could be cut off before anything could reach the core.
There had been wear and tear, failures, and successes in keeping the walkers and the more troublesome people out, but through the days, the Junction stood against all odds. It was a fortress: the only way for an attack was through the main gates. No one would dare invade the Junction's grounds without being gunned down or blasted by UV rays.
One such creature, however, saw the entire fortress from the scaffolding of a construction site—just opposite from the Junction. Golden eyes watched eerily at the brightly-lit bodies walking casually behind walls, a banquet waiting to be devoured. After all, to any infected, the Junction was a whale of a catch. To this one hunter, it didn't matter—numbers were a problem. The Special Infected's vexation overpowered its own hunger.
It only wanted one human—the woman in red.
There was something familiar about this one human when it confronted her at the fountain. Something disgusting that brought bile in its mouth. A reminder. It brought back a memory long forgotten.
It brought back someone he thought he had killed.
Was it her again?
Did she come back alive? No...yes! shouted the voice in his head. It had to be that damn snake. She was still alive. Always have been, always scratching out at the back of his head. It made him vengeful, emotions from the past coming back in full force until the other side, his 'primal companion' in the corners of his mind, seized control. Even now, it did just that, snarling at the other voice to go away. Stop interfering! No thinking!
And he did, the rage drowning down by an old, ancient feeling. It was like being dragged down to the bottom of the ocean and letting the sharks take the surface. The great white one was the king inside this mind now, not him. Let the king take the lead.
Sure...whatever...
He was still too tired to even fight back...
Now that the other voice had backed off, the creature watched over the Junction. The source of its bane was somewhere in there, back from the ashes.
That pest in red... It wasn't an illusion! No, this was another dream! How could it be possible for her to come back alive and in the flesh?
However, she had wandered into their hunting grounds.
The Hunter had the power now. It wasn't the old, poor, pathetic human he once was and they have achieved so much since they became one. They were the King of the Night.
The woman in red was another pathetic infected that they could rip her head off again if she was truly back.
That was the goal now. But it knew full well it was risky to charge in. Evidence of its brethren laid waste from failed attempts—bodies across the ground, traps, and bare wires. The distance across the tops was too far for a lea. Only death was certain once inside the walls. Too many problems to deal with altogether.
Just wait. Wait for her to leave, the beastly voice said.
She couldn't stay in there forever.
But instead of seeing her go through the main gates, the door on the rooftop flung open. Out popped the woman in red.
There. There she was.
Mother's back.
It ushered out an irritating and loud snarl. Its molten-orange-colored talons dug into the wood. But it stopped itself. Patience. Be patient. They could wait. They have all the time in the world now.
This was their hunting ground after all.
Jack was all too occupied to notice the golden eyes locked on her from all the way across the street. The blazing sun stung her eyes the moment she stepped out. Quickly, after a groan of annoyance, she fished out her sunglasses and slipped them on; they relieved her from the pain sunlight gave her. It was then that her mouth gaped open at the sight of the once beautiful Mediterranean coastal city—Scanderoon, one of the largest ports in the country. A different sort of view compared from seeing Harran faraway on her boat.
Quite a disturbing, shocking sight up close, for the most part. The city was as bad as Harran, infested thick with the undead.
The dread and the heavy reality in this location finally hit her this time. After Harran and the Outskirts, she thought she would have been used to it.
"…Scanderoon had seen better days…" she muttered to herself. "Last time I was here was for the championship tournament…"
The wind was nice, cool and refreshing but stunk of rotten flesh, ashes, and heated iron.
Enough of sightseeing. Jack put on her earpiece.
"Come on. Pick up. I know you're having an aneurysm. Or two. Or three-"
Beep!
"-Jack? Jack! Oh my god, you're alive." The voice started up with a sense of overwhelming joy. Bursting with laughter! Then it changed on a dime. "Where were you?!"
"It's nice to hear your voice again, hon."
"I've been pushing Asem to send rallies for you! Don't do that to me, man!" Bones hollered, almost sounding on the brink of tears. But he would deny that.
"Was forced to make a detour into the Coast. I might be stuck for a while. Luckily, there's a group of survivors here to my rescue."
"Survivors? Why are there survivors over there?"
"Scanderoon has the virus."
"...Shit." The weight of the news hit the radioman quite hard. The situation has spread far beyond the walls of Harran. "I thought the other cities were on lockdown."
"I thought so too."
"How bad is it? "
"As bad as Harran. Which means more work for me. These people gave me a long list of things to do."
Bones grumbled but not with the usual irritation—this was something he was used to now. "...I see you're already advertising yourself, Specialist."
"Just for the time being. Until I can find Lenny's boat-"
"Wa - what do you mean untill you find-?! " The mic picked up a knock - Bones probably covering it as he gave a quick and panicked glance behind him. "Lenny's gonna kill you! "
"It's fine. It's exactly where I left it. More or less intact."
"Wait, what did you say - forget it, " Bones groaned. "Less I know, the better."
"Don't be such a worrywart."
"That's what you think. I'm out of here when Lenny finds out, " he whined.
Jack chuckled lightly—he meant it. She couldn't fault him for thinking that, especially the kind of man Lenny was around Caroline. Protective for an inanimate lass after his own heart.
Then it was back to business.
"So Scanderoon's outbreak... Any problems over there? "
"Other than the usual...? Maybe two or three new problems."
"Ugggh…Hang on." She could hear paper raffled and a pen clicked. "Ready."
"Anitizin is one. They seem pretty stockpiled on it. I had to decline the doctor on the offer."
Her eyes streamed down to her arm, where one old bite wound was exposed to the world. The smallest one out of the eleven other teeth marks. They were bound to be discovered, along with the other bites. By now, the Junction had spread the gossip about these wounds, besides her being the old retired kickboxer.
Yes, she was infected. One day, she would turn into those Biters. But that had never stopped her. She had come out triumphantly many times, even as an infected human. But wounds like this could get a man killed because of paranoia. So the wounds had to stay secret after all. She pulled down her arm sleeve further over the mark - no one would be the wiser unless they were a doctor.
"Figures. You're gonna have to stay low. Or you'll die," Bones uttered with great emphasis on the last word.
"Doesn't make it any easier. Once they learn I'm avoiding Antizin, they're gonna lock me up and wait for me to turn."
"What are you gonna do? "
"What else? Make up excuses. Have to be careful around the Doc. Sharp fella like my grandfather."
"Well, get ready to bolt before that happens! We can't lose you again, Jack."
"I hear you, I hear you," she remarked casually.
"If you must gain the trust of the people, you'd better do a good job. Us Ravs have a reputation to hold too."
"It's not gonna be easy. Some of the locals are keeping their distance from me. Especially this one lass."
"A girl, huh? Is she cute?"
"I'm not playing matchmaker in a zombie apocalypse, Bones."
"Wait, I wasn't saying it like that-"
"But you were thinking. Answer is no. We have work."
"Alright, alright." She could picture the lad rolling his eyes on the other end. "But let's be serious. Girls would run for the hills with just one look at me."
"Now you're being silly. You're still the young, handsome, charming lad you were before, Bones."
"Suuure. Say that to my face again," Bones mocked, disbelieving her words of comfort. "Just don't forget your main task. We need to collect the data off those infected."
"I've not forgotten. But you do know my condition is bound to be found out eventually."
"Then...lie! It's only an option-"
"It's the only option we've got. I'd rather tell a bloody half-truth than a half-lie and piss them off even more."
"Man. Your honesty is gonna be the death of you one of these days."
"Hey, telling the harsh truth beats being a lying wanker, right?"
"Ha! Like you're not one when you're being truthful! " Bones uttered and gave up on his debate. "Fine. Fine… So what else? That can't be just it."
"Other than danger everywhere? GRE's at one side of the Coast and there's also a bunch of thugs on the other end. Looks like they have a turf war."
"Yup, sounds about right. "
"On top of that, we have something happening in the Suburbans. Their maps have some sort of sun symbol on the spot."
"Sun symbol?" Bones repeated. "Think they're the people the Tower was looking into? "
"You realize how crazy that rumor sounds, right, Bones?"
"That was the last thing they told me over the radio."
"A cult worshipping a sun is one thing. Domesticated zombies? Their farmers are smoking something, if you ask me."
"You told us yourself, don't leave any stone unturned. Maybe they're linked to why the Tower has gone quiet."
"The Tower and the Countryside are far apart from each other... But you are right. It's something worth checking out when I get the chance," she agreed straightforwardly. "On the bright side, I might have found a likely candidate. Some sort of hunter. The guy in charge said they come out during the night."
"Hunters? We don't have those in the Outskirts. The worst ones here are the Volatiles and Berserkers. Watchers are just scarce."
"This one's a little different. I saw it beating the living shit out of another infected. In broad daylight."
"...Ok, that does sound different. Infecteds fighting each other... "
"Oh. It gets better. I think...and this is just an observation it was punching. Feral but that bugger was doing close hand combat."
There was a pause. Yup, a pause.
"Ok, Jack. Be honest with me. You're sure you didn't hit your head again? "
She almost hesitated.
"Of course not," Jack droned. "I am perfectly fine. As crazy as it sounds, this was no original walker I saw."
"So what? They're becoming smarter? That can't be right and that can't be good."
"Maybe it was acting out?" she proposed. "Talo's always going on about them imitating like humans."
"Yes. And he's a conspiracy theorist. But it is a possibility. Or maybe… No way-"
"Spit it out, Bones. We should look into all possible means."
"Maybe it's got some of its memory. Relying on past events to know how to pull punches. It's just a guess."
"An infected with its memory intact. Sounds reasonable... And dangerous."
"And I'm happy it's not here in the Outskirts… But it is a specimen to look into."
"So tag it and track it?"
"That's what this project's for. Just find it, test your secret weapon on it and get its blood sample."
"Um… Yeah. About those samples."
"What?"
"My bag fell off the boat. With the syringes."
A long-winded, aggravated whine seeped through the line. "Jaaaaack," he groaned. "Tell me you've at least have the trackers on you."
Jack fished out a small waterproof zip bag with tiny devices inside. What she had expected from the professionals were actually the kind she saw in those animal documentaries. Instead, thanks to a few minds like Bones, they took a couple of finder devices—the ones people use to look for lost keys and all that—and tweaked the chips inside before soldering clips and hooks to them.
"They're dry. You sure these will work?"
"Codebreaker increased the range. We'll be able to see any you tag on the whole map from way up here. Same goes for the app we gave you. Unless you dropped your phone in the water too," Bones snapped.
"No, of course not." She traded the next thing with the bag. Her cheap phone, cracked and soaked. The screen made it partially hard to read. No matter how many times she tapped and shook it, it wasn't going to get fixed instantly. It had never served as a means of communications over the months; phone calls, chat room, any internet access had been blocked off for some time. There had been one time the internet came back on but at least some of the apps still worked. A short game helped to pass the time.
"SD's still intact." Another groan out of her listener but she swiftly assured him. "I'll get a new phone. Someone around here's bound to know where I can get one."
A sigh of annoyance and defeat. "Fine. Get everything you need. And don't kill that Special."
"Easier said than done. You know that."
"Yes. And this makes it even harder because you don't have the syringes to draw blood. I'll let the Ravs know-"
"No need. I'll look around at the hospitals."
"Jack, these are special syringes. You can't find them at just any hospital-"
"I can surely find them at some Killboxes. Just don't send anyone here. This is my solo mission."
"Jack-"
"It'll be alright. Don't you fret, mate," again, she reassured him, despite how unconvinced he sounded on the other end. "I'll call again when I find that specimen."
Beep!
She cut the conversation there. There was no need for the lad to persuade—she knew where the conversation would head. No, she had to do this alone: the fewer casualties, the better. She couldn't involve anyone else new in this project either. The less people knew, the less hope they could bet on the results...
"Alright, Jackie. Time for work."
She wheeled around-
"Christ!" she shrieked, jumping back from a face that popped out of nowhere behind her. She didn't even hear the rusty door creak open or Siv walking right behind her. "Ah! Hahaha. You nearly gave me a heart attack." Jack heaved in a deep breath. "How long...have you been there for?"
"Enough to know that I'm a problem to you," Siv scoffed irritably.
Oh. She heard that. Well, then. That gave Jack a gauge which part of the conversation the teen was more peeved at but it didn't tell her if she heard the whole thing or not.
"Don't you know it's wrong to eavesdrop on people, princess-"
"Don't call me 'princess'," Siv hissed, stabbing a finger close to Jack. Gloved hands immediately went up like a shield. "If I had it my way, I'd throw you out..." She breathed, settling down her anger. The gears turned - she just couldn't do such as thing. "But I won't."
"Holding a grudge won't help anyone in these tiring times."
"Shut it," she snapped. "You're at the bottom of the food chain inside these walls."
"Alright." Nope, not even a crack of a smile off the uptight girl's face. Smart enough not to take her apology genuinely. "So...what does her royal Highness want from this underdog?"
The girl grimaced with a dark look but she bit down whatever retort she wanted to throw at her. "You're on drop duty with me."
"My first assignment of the day?"
"Mahir put me up to this. He may have given you a pat on the back but you're gonna do a lot more than just talk your way out of things." She jabbed her finger into the ex-kickboxer. "The moment you do shit, I'm pushing you right out there as zombie food. Got that?"
Talk about hostility. This kid did not like having anyone older than her worming their way into her circle.
"Crystal clear, hon."
The girl scrunched up her pretty face, hating the loosely-tonged response Jack gave. She marched right off to the other side of the roof.
"Yes. Definitely like Champ," Jack muttered to herself. She gave the city one last look, and with a readjusting on her gloves, she exclaimed gleefully, "Well then, no rest for the wicked."
Back onto the wagon, she followed the young teenager. With some challenges along the way: the rooftop was clustered with all sorts of things, from barricaded ventilation shafts and small made-shift watchtowers. Green ivy crept a little outside, giving a delusional sense that the calm was present. Nature was still fighting.
The whole place had prepared for the worst and endured for three months. It tested the flow of time. Still, it wasn't easy on Jack's feet, with the kid being years younger and springer than her. Ordering her to do leapfrogs.
Come now, she didn't need a tutorial, Jack thought to herself.
"Would you hurry up?"
"Yes, yes. Bossy..."
Jack could have talked back, but there was no need to sour the mood further—her very presence had already done that to Siv inside these walls. Jack was about to ask the question, 'how they were going to leave from the roof', until she spotted their means of exit.
"Ziplines."
Besides through the front gates, there had been other ways of leaving the Junction—for a runner. Metal cables ran across the industrial district's canopy from the warehouse's rooftops: north, south, every direction. A perfect and safe way of leaving and entering the Junction, so long as the other tops of the buildings were zombie-free—unless they could fly.
"If you wanna take a stroll outside, be my guest."
"I'll pass," Jack exclaimed. "But...you sure this is safe?"
It sounded like a dumb question, forcing Siv to remark, "Safer than down there."
"True. But those ziplines are going up, not down."
Siv pulled out a rope ascender from her belt, then cocked an eyebrow at the brunette. "What? You think I'm gonna climb my way up?"
Smart. "Don't suppose you have a spare-" The teenager was already off, the device swooshing loudly along the metal line. "Ok. Let me take the long way 'round then."
Jack didn't take offence to the cold shoulder she was getting. In fact, she saw it as a little challenge—how difficult could the youngster make things on her before that icy heart would warm away? This walk together could become a good bonding moment between them, a chance to open up.
And an opportunity to gather info.
"Just take it as exercise, Jackie. You've been out for two days anyway."
Two days. Yeah, right. She felt like she had gone out cold for weeks. But remembering some parkour moves was a good refresher course. Traversing over fences, moving along thin ledges by the fingers, freerunning across the roofs—it was easy.
Ok, that was a lie to herself. She still felt rusty at these things.
"So you know the basics," Siv pointed, slightly impressed that the 'Granny' could keep up.
"Learned them from my cousin. Traded him with a few basic self-defense moves."
"Right. Will said you were an instructor."
"Had the papers and the gym ready before all hell broke loose," Jack breathed. She didn't forget that she hung by a thread as she moved about, one glance over the edge telling her to be proud that she had gotten this far. "...This isn't half bad."
"Your cousin didn't teach you enough."
"I didn't teach him enough either," she chided, taking Siv's hand to be hurled up to the next roof. "Didn't want to give him the upper hand."
"Hmph." That little joke wasn't enough to crack through the youngster's thick walls.
This is gonna take a while, Jack told herself.
"Hey, rookie. Gimme a hand." Their first stop was at a set of coastal townhouses that had the ground floors blocked and severely damaged by intense rainwater. At the last house, Siv pointed to a dunnage rack on the second floor.
"Rookie? Why—ok, fine." Jack held back the lip. She'd let it slide. This one time. "How about a please?"
"You're not my mom. Move it," Siv ordered. "Don't pull your back."
"Hreh hreh," Jack mocked. She wasn't old. But she wished she could retract that statement. Because "Omph...! This thing weighs a ton!"
"Told ya."
But Jack could see why: the young girl saw this as a bridge to help them cross the gap of splinters and beams. They set it down quietly; just because the architectural canopies were easy to move about didn't mean they weren't entirely safe. Off the runner went across it like it was nothin. Not even the shaking and the creeping scared her.
Ok, Jack might as well initiate the conversation between them further as she followed the young girl across the urban canopy. Get the ball rolling and the ice melting.
"It's baffling, isn't it?"
"What is?" It was a groan from Siv, but the tone didn't shun Jack off.
"For someone your age to be out doing errands," she continued. "Or going around town for that matter."
"Mahir needs all the hands he can get. No complaints there."
"So he lets you go? Alone?"
"We've got teams. But I don't see a point in sending more than two people to collect an airdrop close here."
There was a pause at the start. Too subtle, but... Would Mahir let a girl like her go out with a hunter outside?
"Your parents must be terrified if they heard you were doing this."
"Wouldn't know."
Jack almost stopped. "They're not in the city?"
"It's just my mom and me."
Oh, dear. She stepped on a landmine. "But she's...not at the Junction."
"Haven't heard from her since the first outbreak started."
And a second one! Terrific, Jackie. You're one step closer to being bubbies with this girl.
"Do you know where she is?"
"Harran. Where else..." A sigh escaped from the lass out of annoyance. "She sent me to my relatives here when the first sign of symptoms came up."
"She didn't come with you?"
"Please!" Siv groaned in a way that said she already saw through the façade. That it was annoying to try and hide it! But it wasn't directed at Jack. "She stayed behind because her boyfriend was there!"
Wow! Ok. I should stop. But Jack tempted fate again.
"I'm sure she's fine."
"Hm." Not much of a yes or a no there.
"Do you miss her?"
"I don't wanna talk about it."
Which meant "step over this fourth landmine and I'll break your nose." Jack obliged silently, although she was curious to see how this girl would fight—a poor jab that a professional could parry easily with a slap.
Jack had her eye on Siv the entire trip. The girl had good speed over strength. She was shooting her way across slidings and pipes, just as quick as a lad she knew. If Siv were to take a lesson in self-defense from Jack, she could deliver as many blows—quick momentum in pace with her parkour pace—but at the price of strength.
Regardless, Jack followed obediently after the angsty teenager. Climbing higher and higher.
When they reached the top, Jack couldn't help but observe the sight around her. The entire picture of the world.
It was a grim, bleak sight.
She knew what Scanderoon was like before the outbreak. Because she had visited the city before. Three months, however, had severely changed it more than Jack had expected.
The more exposure she had walking through the city, the heavier the weight became.
"Not a pretty sight, right?" Siv snapped her away from the dark scenario.
Maybe she should have expected this to get worse outside of Harran. The promises that it was contained, that it would be resolved, and that it could be cured? They were all empty.
"How many places?" Jack asked.
"...Three nearby towns now. Anything along the Coastline, including this part of the city... I heard the Captial and other countries are trying to put all the stops but...it's going around like wildfire."
Wildfire. That was a good word for this virus. Now Jack's scope of the world had been expanded more.
Half the city has been damned. This part of history was playing out like the movies she had watched in her afternoons—the end of humanity was on the rise. No amount of lockdowns and measures from the outside world could stamp the fire down fast enough. The virus jumped to another patch of grass and continued to spread.
It was inevitable. Jack had already accepted that help wasn't coming. The outside world turned their back on Harran and now everyone has turned away from the world.
At the corner of her eye, Jack saw Siv adjust her cap lower to her eyes and walk away—a scene that the young girl had seen every time she vaulted through this route. Yeah, enough sightseeing. Nothing was going to change it back to Scanderoon's original days. The two ladies carried on.
"So. You're into parkour."
The young runner's shoulders showed it clearly: the rambling of a stranger made her irk despite the warning she gave. Was the old bat trying to get on her good side? Because it wasn't going to work.
"I know a lad who's into it too."
"Oh, really?" But Siv replied anyway—she might as well get this over with, she thought.
"Troublemaker, really. But his heart's in the right place."
"Sounds a lot like my senior from class. He never shuts up to any newcomer about taking the course."
"Sounds awful. But admirable." Siv kinda agreed there. Her senior was passionate when it came to the hobby. "You lot are the boldest I've ever seen."
Siv glanced back with a raised eyebrow. What was this sugar talking for?
"I told you, my cousin taught me parkour too. Bloody hell, you just darted across three houses, and you're braver than me with heights."
"C'mon," Siv barked, a little tamer than before. "You're a kickboxer. You fight people."
"Yes. That's what I'm good at. I've stayed a champion for as long as I could."
"Until someone else took it."
"Yup," Jack uttered proudly. A strange tone for Siv to hear from here—she had the impression that for a retired, arrogant professional like Jack, she would have thought the old bat would be a little resentful. "Burning passion. Same goes for you lot, right?"
"Passion... With everything happening around us?" Siv sighed. "...I'm just trying to survive."
"Aren't we all? You gotta use everything in your arsenal, passionate or compulsory."
That was the common ground Jack could pull them on. They and everyone else in this city and Harran had the same goal when it came to the outbreak. And like everyone else, they had to survive. Jack could see some emotional weight on the girl's shoulders; she had seen her fair share of nightmares and lived to tell the tales. But the hard shell has told Jack that the young girl hasn't talked to anyone about her ordeals these three months. Or maybe nobody has had the time to listen to her.
It made Jack wonder...how was that lad she talked about doing back in Harran? He had been in a quarantined place for more than three months...
He should be fine. He had her sister. They were fine.
They had to be.
"So people call you the Wild Dog." Siv's voice snapped Jack out of her little pit of worry. The door was gaped open just a little, enough for her curiosity to wander out. "Why that name?"
"Ah, well. Wasn't my idea," Jack mumbled too proudly for Siv's liking. "My manager saw what I could do. 'As rabid as the stray dogs of Harran', he said. And I lived up to the name by-"
"By biting off someone's ear, Will said that."
Ugh, she had to bring that one up. "Ok. No holding it back then. Yes. I bite people. A bit of the low side but it's enough to make them flinch."
"Is that...even legal?"
"No," Jack replied with a slight delay. Just a slight. "It was just that one time."
"One time. You make it sound like you've had more than just normal fights."
Damn, this girl was sharp. Jack could straight-out lie or avert the conversation elsewhere. But the city was damned now; who would care about consequences and karma?
"Alright. I won't deny it. You make all sorts of contacts with my line of work. Both good and bad. Everyone starts their hands dirty in this world."
"And one of those contacts was how you got the name? Mad Jack?"
"You know, I don't remember when they started chanting that name… Was it in Rennes or Paris…"
"You've been to France?" Siv uttered, awe slapping her face at hearing someone had been to another country.
"Started in France, Greece, Turkey, Iran. But once I signed up officially, Mert took me anywhere that had a good fight."
"Mert. He's your manager?"
"Manager and trainer. A second father. I owe a lot to him for everything. Helped me stay focused till retirement… The only problem was the unwanted baggage that followed me into my career days."
"Baggage?"
"Like I said. You meet all sorts of people. But Mert didn't really care... Guess we were both hoping that baggage would leave me alone and move on."
"They didn't leave, did they?" Siv started with a cautious step into the conversation.
Jack bit her lip hard, stifling down the provoked flames with a deep breath. She was the one who let that little detail slip out—she asked for it. "Most people never do. They can't take no for an answer."
"Sounds like a story you don't wanna talk about."
"It's an indefinite story."
It wasn't harsh; Jack had learned to always keep her anger in check unless it was out in the ring or to a dumbarse. But it was enough to tell the kid not to step over that line. The young girl nervously rubbed her left arm, not too fretted by the soft mild-tempered remark since she had been given Jack a hard time from the start. But the silence was...heavy.
"So...any scars?"
Jack hunched her eyebrows at the surprise-attack question. "I'm sorry?"
There was a hint of hesitation in the young girl's body A slight tint of regret, maybe feeling at fault for nearly bringing up an old wound. Then Siv pushed forward with a boot of tenacity. "Scars. Will said you were pretty beaten up. And...you know, being bitten too."
"Don't fret, hon. This virus isn't going to stop me." So please drop that topic; it's not your concern.
"Sure..." She wasn't convinced, but she didn't pry. "What about broken bones? Wrestling's all about the pain, right?"
"Kickboxing. There's a fine difference."
"Ok. What is it then?" Siv remarked snippily.
"Wrestling is locking and holding your opponent to overpower them. Kickboxing is striking your enemy."
"So what? You ku-fung your way around?"
"Sorta. It uses a mixture of techniques. But every form of martial art doesn't come without some scrapes. Gotten a broken rib once. A few kicks to the head-"
"Wait, really?" Siv exclaimed, showing legit concern for a stranger she just met.
"That's the risk with headbutting in any combat sport. Either one of us ends up with jam inside their skull."
"Your head's not like Swiss cheese, is it?"
"Wouldn't you like to know." Despite Jack's wide smirking and cheery chuckle, Siv couldn't tell if she literally meant she did or didn't have holes in her head. Still, the kid refrained from probing, feeling awkward about the particular subject. "Still, it was all worth it in the end…"
There was a sense of pride, like a veteran mesmerizing the old days. So she really was a granny, Siv thought to herself. But she didn't throw salt in the wound with that remark out loud when she peeked over her shoulder to see the peaceful, satisfied beam on the woman's face.
"So. Where's this airdrop?"
"Up ahead. Just need to cross one more threshold," Siv answered with a bit more acceptance to Jack.
Good. Should be a smooth retrieval. That was until they walked around the bend.
"Whoa, whoa. Ok, no."
"What?"
Between two buildings, before the two ladies, was the one threshold. A radio tower had snapped off, bashed down by a downed helicopter lying on the road. The metal structure had fallen down, and weeks later, it became a bridge for the runner. But that wasn't the main concern. It was the height.
"That's a fifty-foot drop."
Siv simply peered over the edge.
"Actually, sixty-five. Estimate."
"Clever," Jack exclaimed and glanced around. "But seriously. There should be another way around-"
"Aren't you Mad Jack? Don't you take any risk?"
"Back in my glory days. Not in an infected-filled city."
"So what?" Siv spread out her arms, readying a cheeky taunt. "You're chicken?"
Seriously? This kid was going to test this woman's patience? "Mad Jack is no chicken."
"Bwak, bwak! Bwaak!"
Neither lady knew they were being watched. Not too far away from their location, the golden eyes hawked eerily—the unnatural monochromatic vision strikingly contrasted the smaller prey highlighted in bright orange as she flapped her folded arms. It enticed the predator to come after her. The size wasn't enough to satisfy its hunger but she'd make for an easy kill-
No! No! Stop! STOP! Not a kid— Shut up! I AM IN CHARGE!
"Ok, ok," the female adult uttered with a warm laugh, making the golden eyes fixate on her. "But this tower better be stable, princess."
"Relax. Runners go through here all the time."
Focus on the task, it told itself. Themselves. The human in red was their target, her! The hunter tried to steady itself to keep the quenching bloodthirst in check. It would have its chance to let the anger do the talking once they'd pounce on her and bite down on her neck. Even tear that head off again.
The monster couldn't let her go on like this. If that woman was really back, she would be nothing but trouble. Just like before. Her and her twisted morals. She couldn't exist anymore! She couldn't screw someone else up like she did to him!
I'll kill you.
Jack wheeled back to the sound. But was it really sound? It was a strange scratch at the back of her head, just enough to be mistaken for a soft, harsh whisper to her ear.
Was it the wind?
She combed the rooftops around. But there was no one around, only the slow walkers in the urban canopy.
"Something's wrong?"
"Um… Thought I heard someone."
Siv looked around as well, holding her ear out. Nothing but the usual atmosphere. She glanced back at the brunette, spotting her expression being...unreadable this time.
How bad was that head injury Will pointed out? But everything about the newcomer seemed fine to Siv.
She grew worried. She remembered Mahir talking about that hunter...
"C'mon," Siv pushed. Almost in a plead. She didn't want to stay there any longer. "Or I'm leaving you behind, slowpoke."
"Yeah."
Siv was gone with a skip, far too fast for Jack's liking. Seriously, how was this kid able to keep it straight on such shaky obstacles? Hell, she just jumped over a good six feet gap.
Well, Jack wasn't gonna be left behind. With a deep breath—first, a few steps back for a running start—she leapt off.
BAM!
"Hell's bells!" she shrieked, her top half holding on top to the tail-end of the radio tower and her legs dangling over the edge. Creeeee-thu-thu-thu! The metal groaned loudly at the sudden shift of weight but it didn't bend like she had thought it would. She climbed up onto her feet and gripped the railing so tightly, her knuckles turning white.
"See? You did good for your first jump."
"Yeah. Ahahaha... Just a little winded." She made the foolish decision to look over her shoulder. Oomph, the height. She felt like she could be pushed off by the wind like paper. "Bloody hell. That's a long way down!" Stupid to say that aloud, but it sent shivers down her spine. She gave out a loud, nervous laugh. "Gives you one hell of a thriller!"
"Ha." Jack could have sworn she saw a little creak of a grin from the young girl. "You should try the clocktower. It's a dozy-"
Siv suddenly stopped in front of Jack. She wobbled unexpectedly on the dwelling, not going forward or backwards. Her right hand drifted far too slowly to her head.
"Siv?"
The swaying of her body was getting worse. Right before Jack's eyes, the teenager timbered over the side.
"SIV!"
The brunette ran full speed as the tower creaked louder and louder from her hurried steps. The fear of watching the girl fall off overtook her fear of falling off herself if she were to misstep through the gaps. It didn't matter—the girl's life was at stake. Quickly, in just the nick of time, Jack latched onto Siv's wrist.
"I got you!" Jack hollered. "Pull up!"
At first, the girl didn't even lift her other arm. Not a nod, a twitch, nothing. Shit! What has happened to her? But, thankfully, Siv started to stir up. She first shook her head for a moment and drowsily comprehended the peril she was in before she quickly pulled herself up.
"Come on!" the brunette ushered.
Once the youngster was over the railing, both women rolled over onto the more stable part of the fallen tower. That was way too close for comfort but certainly not over. Jack jumped to the young runner and examined her thoroughly—Siv was now lying down like a fetus, hands on head and knees buckled, like something heavy was upon her.
"What were you thinking?! You could have gotten yourself killed!" Jack snapped. "Siv, your head."
There was a bit of bleeding coming from an open cut on her forehead. She must have hit herself on the metal bars.
"S-Sorry…" Siv apologized, barely hearing her. That terrified Jack. "Just had...a bit of a spasm."
"A seizure?" She got no reply. At first, it was just a thought: people can have normal reasons for sudden seizures. But in this outbreak, the answer was obvious. It prompted Jack to examine Siv once more until she spotted the clue. She grabbed one left arm and turned it over.
A week-old bite mark.
"You were bitten too." Nothing out of the runner. But it was clear as day, the signs were there before Jack. "Siv? Siv. When was your last Antizin dosage?" she called out to her.
"Three days ago… But I shouldn't be feeling the effects this soon..."
"What?" That little detail was strange. But it wasn't important right now. "We're going back to the Junction."
"No! No," Siv demanded, forcing herself back up but that only tumbled her back onto her rear. With Jack nearby, holding her by the arms, Siv managed to regain back her footing. She squeezed her eyes tightly, hoping that would get rid of the fits. "We got to get to that drop first!"
"There will always be other airdrops. Not another Siv. Now let's go back-"
"I-I'm fine!" Siv straightened up again and held out her hands, palms flat. "Really! See? No shakes. It's just a fluke... I'll get another dose afterwards."
Jack let a pause pass by, at first waiting for the girl to change her mind and follow her back. In this changing world, stubbornness could send a person down a one-way trip over yonder. But the girl simply frowned even more—visually telling her she'd leave her behind and get the drop herself.
Ugh. To Jack, it was like dealing with a clone of her past rival, the only difference being the years and experience. And Jack knew she wasn't going to back down. One more look at Siv told the brunette that she seemed fine.
But what about the next time?
"The other side. Let's get over there first."
Siv seemed reluctant at first but agreed. She didn't need a second telling. Jack kept a close eye on her, readying herself to reach out at a moment's collapse.
"We should do something about the bleeding," she proposed once they reached solid concrete.
"I'm fine. It's not like I'm gonna get infected again."
Jack simply folded her arms with a disapproving frown. How could she get it through her head?
"First important rule. Your body is your tool. So don't go being a fool and injure yourself."
"Who said that kind of philosophical shit?"
"My manager. Mert." Siv's scoffed face immediately scrunched up. Like she had spat on someone's grandfather's grave. But Jack didn't take it as an offense. "He's right though. Now sit tight."
This time, there wasn't any fighting from the teenager. So she was gonna listen to an adult this one time.
"Gauze. And alcohol... That's a simple task a Granny like you can do."
Cocky girl but that was good. Meant her spirit hadn't left her.
"Sure. We'll have that boo-boo go away in no time," Jack sent the cheeky comeback back at Siv and spied the little frown off her before she went searching for the needed materials. It wasn't too difficult with a nearby bathroom downstairs—gauze and alcohol. Duct tape was a nice blessing to find too.
"I got this," Siv stopped her from taking over, making Jack scowled; really, dear, stop trying to be tough and let the adult take over. Surprisingly, the young lady knew how to apply bandages on a light head wound.
"Ssssk!" The runner recoiled from the sting of the alcohol. Had to hurt—Jack knew the feeling all too well.
"...Primitive but it'll work," she mumbled to herself. Once she saw the puzzled expression from the Wild Dog, she continued. "My mom's friend... They're both physicians."
So she knew basic first aid. "We should still get Doc to check on you-"
"Look. I'm fine. I don't need stitches." Siv grimaced at the unconvinced face the ex-kickboxer was giving. One could tell she was cooking up excuses in her head. "We've had too many blunders already and nothing good has come our way this whole week. You weren't here. And, and it's dampening everyone's mood. We need something to change-"
"Alright, alright," Jack answered begrudgingly. This girl didn't know the word 'quit' that she had to give such a weak attempt of a motivational speech. Better for her to stay with Jack until they would return to the Junction than for Siv to run off. "But the moment you start feeling the fits again, I'm taking you back."
Siv scoffed, leaping right onto her feet. Right as rain. "You should be smashing my brains out before it gets worse. Come on. We're getting close."
The runner trotted off, climbing her way down the insides of the building.
Jack didn't follow at first.
"...Yeah… Let's just hope that never happens, princess…"
A/N: Writing these chapters as well as revamping old chapters for the Descent are somehow enjoyable to me because I think the rhythm is like playing a game. As well as any chapter that has Jack's color personality in it (ok, I think for any writer out there, writing their OC is always fun to do). She's kinda like Chole from Uncharted, with a bit of fury from Rachel from Animorphs and several traits from the Leverage series.
Anyhow, this chapter has helped me a bit more on how to shape the game world up. I've been doing intensive research to make a neighboring city to Harran and finding the historical name, Scanderoon (which btw, the current city we know today is called İskenderun, a district in the Hattay province, on the Mediterranean coast of Turkey). What my ideal city is gonna be will also offer a lot of things, like quests, landmarks, means to travel other than parkour, etc.
Anyhow, hope you guys like this chapter and actually, I've finished the next draft of chapter two. So I think really soon, once I'm done with editing, I can upload it! :D
16/10/19 - Revamped chapter 2 and took a bit from chp 3. You might expect one later chp to be a gap down the line if you're binging through. Be patient and the new chps will be up/replaced. Enjoy.
22/10/19 - Reedited for minor mistakes and errors.
13/8/20 - Reedited minor parts.
6/2/21 - Reedited some parts, added new lines according to changed timestamp. Improved dialogue between Jack and Siv, changed Siv's backstory structure.
15/2/22 - Went over a full chapter edit with some fixes, retwists, deletes and adjustments. Removed dialogue info dump from Mahir and Bones to save for later.
6/7/22 - Edited some of Siv's dialogues and other lines.
6/10/22 - Edited some lines. Streamlined some dialogues.
15/3/23 - Edited several lines and made fixes, streamlined some dialogues for better structure.
26/3/23 - Small edit on timeline and city quarantine area
31/12/23 - Final fixes and changes, I hope