Chapter Summary
- THE CANDIDATE
Another day survived. Another night alive. It doesn't get old. But I would be lying if I wasn't apprehensive after that fight. That 'Day' Hunter wasn't a normal infected and he survived my secret weapon... Could he be the candidate we've been looking for? - Jack
FOUR: RIVALRY
The one thing any survivor has learned from the Harran Virus outbreak—whether the hard way or the cowardly way—was how treacherous the nights became. And the people of Scanderoon had to learn that as well.
Three months of adapting—barricading themselves in their own houses and staying up high on the roofs without being snagged by the infested roads below. Some Safe Zones failed; others were armed to the teeth. Sacrifices were made, and tears were shed for just a fraction of time.
There was no way out of a pandemic. Unless the problem killed itself or help arrived. But help has never come for three whole months.
So the next best thing could only endure. Sleep through the bloody night—that was a double-edged sword right at the neck.
Cover the ears to dull out the snarls, cries and noises outside.
Slowly chip a man's mind away with the nightmares.
Snap his sanity under the building weight from his apocalyptic reality.
For the veterans, it was easier to fall asleep than for others. Because one needed a good night's sleep. The energy to live through the next day. To fight again. One wrong move because of a skipped nap could end a life.
Crane thought that would be the case for him after being knocked out. Even better, that everything he had gone through was one big nightmare, and he could never wake up again. But for some reason, he didn't go under like before.
In fact, he was too lucid. Could it be a side effect? Because he was a monster now?
The whole world was suddenly so bright and colorful around him.
He could hear everything. All too clear. The heavy breathing made him unsettled—not because it could have been from a beast but because he, the beast, listened to a human's breathing.
That human slumped in the comfort of an old, crummy sofa, her back to him. She slept soundly, unaware that she had an intruder inside the unfamiliar office space Crane found himself in. Old-fashioned interior with a rickety old computer on an office desk and the four walls adorned with photos, awards, trophies, and certificates.
The smell of cheap-ass Turkish tobacco hung in the air so tightly, almost making him believe he was still somewhere in Harran.
In his drowsy state, Crane asked one question to himself: how did he get there? What should have been a night of terror, the windows lied to him with a lovely, warm day!
"Jack."
Crane froze up. Shit! Then he turned to see another human walking past him.
A simple-looking man, the source of the tobacco, and somehow oblivious to a monster standing beside him. Older, more tired, wiser than both Kyle and the woman on the sofa. Crane quickly huddled in a corner of the room and watched the old man walk over to the sleeping lady.
The man's call did stir the woman named Jack up—or, in this case, annoyed her—but she snuggled back down. The whole 'give her five more minutes' when the cushions were just too nice to wake up from.
So he tried again. This time with a heavy hand reaching down and shaking her shoulder.
"Jack."
"I'm up." The woman bolted too quickly and was overcome with dizziness It was a dumb mistake to make, and now she had to pay, squishing her eyes shut and open. "...I'm up."
Crane had a better look at the brunette; just starting her prime years, wearing comfy, clean clothes. Nothing fancy or bright. What was more, a better, harder look at both of them made Kyle realize he didn't see them light up like fireflies. None of his zombie vision.
Just normal-looking humans in a clear-looking world. Either his eyes had returned to normal or he had gotten a pair of glasses.
"Burn another night?"
Shaking her head, the brunette tried to get comfortable. Her friend placed two things on the coffee table: his worn beret hat with just a brash toss and a hot cup of chocolate carefully down—not caffeine that she wanted but food that she needed for skipping breakfast and lunch. He sat back in his own chair, putting his hands together and doing the one thing he was very good at: listening.
A couple of swallows to quench her already dry mouth before Jack glanced up at her manager. Not at the stranger, Crane, in the room.
It was like he never existed at all in this time and space.
This was a dream, right? Had to be.
"I wouldn't say it was enjoyable," Crane heard the woman chide. But she didn't share the old man's enthusiasm. Or whatever it was—the man had barely any facial expressions to remotely show any form of emotion.
But Crane understood one thing; he might not be able to read him, but one look back at the woman said that the old man was one of the fewest people she trusted.
"I did say this gym is always yours. I didn't say you could exhaust yourself."
Gym. Ok, Crane got his location… Now where exactly was this gym?
"No, no." Jack rubbed off the sleep dust in her eyes. "...What time is it?"
"Nearly noon." The old man watched her exhume a long yawn. Gradually, his thin, impalpable smile turned upside down. Darker. "It was Savvas, wasn't it?"
The mood shifted completely. Anyone could read the room, and Jack had already expected that move out of him. After all, he was incredibly good at reading the signs. Trained many fighters for decades to know every single jab and kick. He trained Jack himself.
She sighed. "Nothing gets by you, Mert."
"I've been with you for how long? I know every trick in the book, Jack."
Jack inhaled deeply, then quickly took the cup again in her hands. The intention had been to play it out, but she just couldn't. She should have denied it. Throw a backhand statement to turn the conversation around. However, Mert would see it coming a mile away.
No more hiding. She had already made that rule for herself years ago.
So, she gave in to Mert's listening ear. "I don't know how he found out…"
"Hm," Mert huffed. Disappointed? Collected? She couldn't tell. "I've taught you enough that paranoia is not a good thing."
"You did teach me that. But the things I've done... The things he..." She suddenly shook her head—painfully. "Can't be too careful..." She slumped back in her seat, softness cushioning the back of her head. "Thought I could cover my tracks and call it a day."
"You should have come to me immediately. To anyone of us," Mert said with concern.
"And what? Call the police?" Jack chimed, but the tone easily broke apart. "Mert. You and I both know that man is untouchable."
She looked at him dead in the eye. For once, the Wild Dog was a little...afraid. The infamous, unbreakable fiend in the kickboxing world knew the word, fear.
"He's got everyone in his pockets... We're just ants to him." Another sigh came out of her lungs. A hum of acknowledgement from the old man.
Everything about this felt strange to Crane but he didn't make a move and start asking the two people questions. What about the virus, the outbreak, people dying? Everything he watched didn't seem right.
As if Crane had time-traveled back to the past and witnessed two average citizens talk over a mundane issue less problematic than the Harran Virus. A life free from the dismay and the screeching damned.
But despite it sounding mundane, he knew it was serious.
"Plus...if he goes down...I go down with him."
"Because of the things you've done."
Even if it seemed far simpler than Crane's current circumstances with the virus, it sounded as heavy and troubling as anyone else's problems. So he listened, just as he always listened to the requests and pleas of others in Harran.
Jack nodded dejectedly, tapping her fingers on the cup's rim in a whimsical fashion. "It's my word against his-"
"Bah! That's a load of bull and you know it."
"Mert. Vlachos' not just any weapons dealer."
"Vlachos?" Neither of the two heard Crane but he couldn't help but be surprised. Nor did he realize his voice sounded normal.
Savvas Vlachos… He had heard that name before.
How did two random strangers know that man's name?
"You don't give me enough credit. I can go on for another ten years," the manager's boast stopped Crane from overanalyzing. "I've dealt with the mafia twice, remember?"
Jack chuckled softly. But not completely wholeheartedly. Yes, the comment was nice, but it didn't dull the doubts away.
The man had that worn-down, rough and tough exterior to him—a gentleman with a good right hook and the stern personality of a bull. In his line of work, he didn't see the dividers everyone did—race, gender, age, mistakes. The one thing he set his eyes on was the fighting spirit. He could see potential, and it had to be molded into place with enough discipline and training.
But he was still one man—an honest middle-class man on the surface. Jack couldn't burden him with her past mistakes.
"...Fine time for this to be biting back. Can't say I didn't see it coming," she droned. Weary. Weak. Vulnerable.
"Everyone has to start their hands dirty. You got out of that business before it was too late."
"And he's not letting it go." Jack put down the cup. Apparently, her already-small appetite just fled out of her stomach.
"If Vlachos keeps coming after you, I'll break every bone in his body."
Now Jack would love to see that. "Thanks for the gesture, Mert… But I don't want you to get hurt. She wouldn't-"
"She wouldn't want it. But you need it."
This time, she didn't let out another usual laugh. She let the words sink in…
"Now." Mert climbed off his seat slowly, a few needles in his old knees. He picked up his hat but didn't wear it right away. "How about we give empty, hm? Got something to show you downstairs."
Jack cocked an eyebrow, but Mert headed for the door without an explanation. Something had him chirpier than usual that morning. Which was rare from the old man with little expressions.
She needed to move her legs anyway. Off the sofa, she gave herself a stretch and a rub on her neck before walking a few steps forward into the sunbeams.
Mornings were something she's grown to dislike, but for this normal day, it was relatively pleasant and warm through the blinds—a nice afternoon in the Outskirts of Harran. Birds chirping, children playing at the nearby park. A lively street with cars driving by and passerbys moving on with their lives.
She had to admit that it was one of her better days.
All while completely ignorant of Crane. He had sidestepped as the old man left the office, and now he would have to do the same for the lady. How could they not see him?
He followed her gaze—seeing and hearing the deceivingly regular day—and noticed an advertisement billboard across the street. About a Zombie-Annihilation movie. Coming to theatres soon. Starring some actress in a ripped dress and boots, wielding an assault rifle.
Hold on there. He remembered that movie. It came out in…2011? No. The year before that.
"I don't get the appeal in zombie movies." Did the woman see Crane and talk to him? No, she mumbled to herself. "Always screaming, the 'thought-provoking' meditations, and fake gore... Really unrealistic."
The half-sleepy woman exited the office, leaving Crane behind to digest what he had just experienced.
What the actual hell!
As if needing an answer and running from the growing madness, he followed after her. Through the door and into the light.
Ding!
Then he stopped himself.
The old man did say the place was a gym. He found himself on the first floor, at the entrance. The usual equipment around him; punching bags, a ring in the middle, and most terrifying of all, more normal-looking people!
But he didn't bolt back the other way. It all seemed so unreal for him to process. How long could this dream keep going?
The sound of a door opening prompted him to look up. Not behind him. On the second floor, the old man leaned comfortably on the railing. The brunette joined him a second later.
Something had certainly caught the man's attention. And Jack found exactly who caught his attention.
A surprise indeed.
"Well, well," Jack began with a grin. "Isn't that-"
"Hm-hm," Mert confirmed. "Jade Aldemir. In my gym."
Crane's heart stopped. He wheeled too fast on his heels, letting the emotions overwhelm him.
At the punching bags was a dark-haired woman much younger than Jack. A 'new face' at the gym, practicing her jabs. Anyone inside would think that. But not to Jack and Mert. The newcomer had another purpose for 'wandering in'.
To Crane, he just couldn't believe it was her.
For a moment, he took what the old man said as a lie. Then he kept telling himself this was all a dream. His guilt fabricated a familiar face into the illusion just to torture him.
But the more he looked, the more he watched the punches beat into the punching bag—her valiant eyes revealed after every swing—the more Kyle couldn't deny it.
That really was Jade.
"Jade," he whimpered. And to make matters worse—deliberately a right kick at his shame—he spotted the back of another familiar face, who sat by himself with his thumbs on a phone.
He couldn't believe it again.
Crane took one, two quick steps forward-
"Think she came here to see her competitor?"
The brunette's voice stopped him, prompting him to look up at her expression of admiration.
Jack was intrigued, understanding the inquisitiveness within her manager's mellow eyes. Another name on the list—a kickboxer recently rising through the ranks, faster than most rookies the Wild Dog had seen over the years. But that was the thing: Jade Aldemir was supposed to be a rookie. She had been so to the eyes of the seasoned, even Jack herself.
Until the end of last year, Aldemir fought and won against the Oni.
The Oni—the terrifying demon from Japan. Jack had fought him twice, so she knew the gauge of his power. And now this 'rookie' has finally made her way to the upcoming Global Trial Championship this year.
Where she would come face to face with the Wild Dog, four-year world champion.
Quite frankly, Jack had thought she would cross paths with the young kickboxer next year, but not so soon. Yet that achievement showed the girl's great velocity. As well as her audacity—coming to Jack's turf like that. It actually brought a grin to the Wild Dog.
A daring lass, indeed.
"As long as she's paying, she's welcomed." Mert took a deep puff after lighting his cigarette. He trailed his gaze from the young fighter to the unstoppable champion.
There was a certain glint he spotted in the brunette's gaze. He had seen all types of smiles out of her: the wide, wicked grin she would give during first stage Mad Jack introduction or the cocky smirk to any opponent she wore outside the ring. This time, however, there was a calming sort of demeanor as she watched the youngster below.
Maybe a reminiscence of her past? Or a friendly slice of envy for something she couldn't have...
"Why don't you go down there and introduce yourselves?"
The grin was gone, slapped right off. Jack gave Mert a raised eyebrow—did she hear him wrong? No, he meant it.
"Really...? Just like that?"
"You two are going head-on in the next match anyway. All about good sportsmanship."
"Spying on your opponent at her manager's gym is not what I would call 'good sportsmanship', Mert."
"She's daring. Just like you."
"Pft, please." The confidence was back again, tenfold. "She beat Oni. The most infamous kickboxer in the East. Before me, of course."
"Hm."
"That doesn't mean she's ready for me. Lass got a ways to go."
"I agree with you there... But she could surprise you. Or it could be the other way around."
The other way around? Jack gave him shade with one look but the old man stood as still as an oak tree.
"Talk to her. Nothing wrong with a little chit-chat between players."
Mert was sure that was enough coaxing—he could read the doubt in Jack's brow. The woman had a very difficult time opening up to most people and gradually, she lost that internal argument. With a slap on the railing, she obliged and headed for the stairs.
"Behave yourself."
"Since when have I ever behaved?" she chided with a wave of her arms.
Cocky, just like Aldemir.
The old man simply snorted at her, adding a small cough.
Down the metal stairs, Jack went, her eyes never leaving her new rival, around ten years younger than her. And the feisty fighter wasn't alone—outside the punching area was a much younger man, the age being either from high school or getting ready for college.
There were similar features between the two—same facial structures, same black hair color but not the eyes. If Jack had to guess...the younger brother. Who clearly was not here to do the equipment like his sister. After all, the brood was not only scrawny—the builders could easily pick him up and toss him out the door—but he was in his own world, sitting on a bench with full attention on his phone. Playing some app Jack had seen most teens do on buses and trains to pass the time.
Odd though. If the young boy wasn't interested in tagging along with his sibling, why was he here? Lads like him would be off doing their own thing for the afternoon. Lost a sibling fight before coming here? Even Jack herself had her spiteful moments with her cousin.
Because the front doors were close to the stairs, someone stood in her way once she reached the bottom. But that didn't divert Jack off her path once she reached the first floor. It was a simple dodge and a "excuse me" out of her. And her blocker compelled with a step back.
The brunette did peek up at the stranger. After all, he stood in the way, far too long than he should have—a rude thing to do.
That didn't mean he wouldn't see her gaze, but Jack didn't hide that fact.
Crane almost thought she had finally noticed him. Or maybe he was just seen as a new face loitering around the gym. Up close, he saw her hazel-blue eyes shimmering under light fixtures and the stray beads of sunlight straining through the windows.
Noticing him. Judging. Maybe trying to start something with him on a competitive level.
Telling Kyle that he wasn't the main character of this dream-state story.
Then his gaze changed targets. He turned back to the younger kickboxer and brother, the grief seizing him again. If he'd move a step, Kyle feared that he could break the illusion.
And lose those two in front of him again.
He wasn't aware that his endless stare got Jack to follow it to the end. The stranger was one oddball: his strange attire was clearly not appropriate for vigorous training. She had a mind to tell him to leave quickly if he wasn't there for the gym. Mert didn't like window-watchers and freeloaders.
The other strange thing was how difficult she had in getting a read on him, the hood covering his face. His concentration was the one noticeable detail, so she glanced at the young kickboxer. Maybe both her and the young lad.
Jack looked back once more, the distance between her and the stranger getting further and further. Despite looking like some crook planning to rob the gym, those brown eyes looked awfully sad for some reason.
Did he know them?
Although...was there supposed to be a guy standing by the entrance?
That wasn't how she remembered. But she ignored him. Like he never existed in the first place. Jack's attention was back on the rookie kickboxer, all the way to the practice area. Jade's moves were far more interesting to study than some hooligan. The lass favored the jabs—Jack had heard her signature move was a good butterfly kick. Like the swift tail whip of a scorpion.
There was a peek from the rookie now and then. She obviously noticed the older woman observing but didn't tear away from her target.
What, trying to one-up me, Jack thought. Tempting-
"You know you're being a creep, right?"
The voice made Jack gaze gaze down to the young lad, who now gave her a hard look that said, "back off from my sis". It was only for a second before those green eyes went back to the app, little explosive sounds and bright visuals happening on the screen.
Oooh, so he was the overprotective little brother?
Jack didn't step back... How could she play around with this piece of information?
"And?" she started with a cheeky tone in her voice. "I was checking her out. Maybe get her number in the process."
That did it.
His green eyes widened at the remark. Then he hurriedly galloped up on his feet—clearly having the wrong idea written all over his face. How cute.
"H-Hang on!" he barked angrily. "You...you're not her type."
"Oh? She has a type?" Jack tilted her head, purposely planting her eyes on the puncher, just to make the youngster get even more riled out. "Strong legs. Good flexibility. Intense stamina and she knows how to pace it…" Jack did one final blow: closing to the boy's ear with a soft whisper. "I can take her."
That did him in—the uncomfortableness draping over him thick at the idea a total stranger was trying to score with his sister. Didn't matter if a guy or a gal, it still was his sister! The cheeks flushed bright red as he fumed silently, trying his best to fight back. Speak up.
"Wha - you - now hold on a second here!"
Jack held in a chuckle. The boy clearly made a scene that a few heads turned to him. Oh, she was going to have a lot of fun with this anklebiter. And all she did was pointing out the rookie's skills. The poor boy's imagination simply filled in the gaps.
"Y-You! Y-You don't get to date my sister! She's off! Period!"
"Really, now?"
"Yes! Really!" he hissed.
"Well, that's not possible, lad. Not with our appointment coming up next year."
"What?!" The lad was particularly shaking his head, lost with words. "Since when?!"
"Rahim." Finally, someone intervened. Jumping into the conversation with a discontented expression, the fighter stood between him and Jack. "You can be so dense sometimes." She then took a firm, stern stare at the Wild Dog. "You're Jack Brecken."
Jack smirked mellowly, with her palms out front. "Guilty as charged."
The young kickboxer showed no signs of shock and awe in the presence of a champion; she had been so used to it by now, facing gods in her previous matches.
Her brother, however, was a different case.
The moment the name was ushered and Jack commended to it, his entire body froze on the spot. Shoulders hunched up tightly, and eyes were much wider than before, dinner plate size. He had heard of her reputation—the more aggressive side of her. But he had never taken a moment to look up what the Wild Dog looked like from the news. Not once did it cross his mind.
Without knowing it, he tried to give lip to a kickboxing world champion.
Now the little rabbit was in for it.
"Don't put yourself in a bind. I get that all the time."
That seemed to calm the boy down. Sorta. He was in the shadow of a legend.
"I thought Jack was a guy's name," Rahim choked innocently.
His sister rolled her eyes and glared at him for the subtle embarrassment. "Really?"
Jack shrugged. "Never liked my real name. Nobody would take me serious as a child."
"Ugh. I know the feeling," her rival groaned. So she had been ridiculed for a feminine name in her childhood.
"For what it's worth," Jack said, turning back to the tense boy, who flinched at the worrisome thought she was going to punch him. "Admirable thing to do, standing up for your sister there. This world needs more people like you."
The words were encouraging, warm enough to bring the boy back out of his timidness. Rahim was about to say something with a growing smirk when his sister took over the conversation.
"I wouldn't call that admirable. I'm the one cleaning up his messes."
"Jade!" He wheeled back to Jack, clearly seeing the hidden giggle she kept in. "She's joking!"
Jack ushered out the chuckle, louder than intended, and held out her hand as a sign of good gesture. "It's nice to meet you both. Rahim. Jade Aldemir."
"So you know?" Both siblings shook it—the girl with a firm grip, then her brother a weak but trying one.
"Who doesn't? You've made quite a name in the last year. Fastest kickboxer to make it to the finals. Bloody impressive, if you ask me… How was Eijun in the last match?"
"What else. Ferocious with his knockouts. Too narrow-sighted he didn't see the twist coming... But..." There was a slight pause, the rookie visibly wanting to add something good instead of making herself out to be a jerk. "He was a good fighter."
"Sounds about right. Old chap isn't called the Oni for nothing," Jack pointed. Now the next curious question. "So. What's a rising star doing in this neck of the woods?"
"Well. I wanted to check you out too," Jade boosted, following after Jack's earlier ruse. "You are my competitor."
"Fair enough," she chided. "And have you learned anything from me?"
Jade folded her arms with a stern, puzzled glance. "You're not what they say on TV," she confessed, which actually prompted a nod of acknowledgement from Jack. "Everyone made you out to be some madwoman in person."
"You're not alone on that one," Rahim mumbled, just enough for the brunette to hear despite his best efforts to conceal it.
Jack sighed. This again?
"Come now. That's all for show. You give the audience what they want and they'll lap it up quickly. You of all people should know that," she explained, seeing the young kickboxer quietly give a nod of agreement. "If I were to be nice and composed all the time, think how bad it'd look on my reputation."
"True… Kind of disappointing," Jade exclaimed.
Now that was an odd thing to say. "That I can't be a normal person in my personal life?"
"Oh, please. I got a life too." Jade now had an arrogant gleam in her dark eyes. "I was just thinking it's a real shame that Wild Dog's not everything I thought she was."
Her smile was still painted on Jack's face, but she took a bit of time to digest that remark. "Excuse me?"
"Jade. What are you doing?" The nervousness snaked out of the boy's mouth. But his sister didn't hear him. She had a daring goal set in mind.
"You're acting like a proper lady in front of her opponent. Who does that?"
Proper lady? Jack's brow furrowed even more. Was she?
"I didn't come here for the courtesy treatment. Be all disgustingly girly, kiss cheeks, and then leave." The young kickboxer narrowed the distance between her and the champion. Eye to eye. "I came to see Wild Dog herself. In action."
"Ahahaha. No," Jack uttered sternly. Oh, she knew where this was going. "We're already going to fight each other next year."
"What? Can't I see the real deal right now? I'm here to prepare myself."
Ok, Jack would give her that. She definitely wanted to feel the heat of the fight within these walls. Even she wanted to see this rookie's fighting style up close and personal.
But Jack had to remind herself of one dilemma, hidden from the two youngsters, Mert and everyone else in the gum: Jack's bruises hadn't recovered from last night's ordeal. She was still in yesterday's clothes, with aches and pains that sleeping on a couch didn't help her recover from. If she were to accept the proposal, she'd only regret it the next morning.
So she had to decline. Without declining.
"Don't you know it's better to savor the flavor rather than rushing it?" Jack asked playfully. "We might just find each other bland when the tournament comes around. Why not make it exciting by looking forward to it?"
"Oh, please," Jade scoffed. "You're not the patient type."
"Well, you aren't wrong about that," Jack grumbled softly, being called out like that.
"Three minutes. Everything goes."
Wow, she didn't know when to quit.
But Jack knew when not to begin. "While I do admire you for being ballsy, this grown-up has a tight schedule today. It was a pleasure meeting you, Jade. Rahim."
Ended it right there, as the proper adult should do. But it was only a couple of steps Jack took-
"What? Wild Dog's chicken?"
Oh.
She did not just go there. That insult put its grubby paws right on Jack's shoulders, urging her to shrug it back and turn around. She gradually did just that to see Jade's bold, taunting smile and the restless waving of her gloved hands.
A low laugh crept out of the pro's mouth.
"Oh, oh," Jack started, flashing a toothy grin. "You're gonna eat those words, little princess."
Jade smirked cockily with a gesture of her arms spread wide. "Show me then. It's been all bark from you."
There were a few "oooohs" nearby. Some onlookers had stopped and overheard the talk ramping up. Rahim was the only one who stepped back—he wasn't stupid enough to jump between his crazy sister and a rabid boxer.
Now he wanted to go home.
Jack first glanced up—Mert was still at his usual spot, overseeing everything and hearing everything. With a wave of his cigarette, he gave the okay.
Good. The chains fell off. She was already smiling, but Jack grinned even wider.
The crowd gathered around the patched-up boxing ring in the center while Jack readied herself and Jade took to her corner. The little hare, Rahim, sunk far back from the growing, noisy wonder while the patient bull, Mert, watched attentively from above.
More members joined in, eager to watch the unofficial match between the two titles. Like watching a rare National Geographic episode between a venomous arachnid and a hungry stray dog back to its natural roots. Both animals put themselves into a hole to take a gander and fight.
There were a few quiet bets in the background—the poison sting would take Jack down or the female she-wolf would bite down on Jade's claws.
Jack ignored their ramblings. She wanted to see all of Rookie's moves displayed and examined with a fine-tooth comb. The aches still pricked at her joints, but know what? Nothing cures yesterday's pins and needles like a good workout.
They took their stances on opposite sides of the ring. A few shakes here and there, some tiptoeing around.
And the fight began with the strike of the bell.
DING!
Jade took the first attack. A fast right jab, but Jack blocked it with her forearm. Then the left, but again, another block. The rookie was putting more into her punches, already impatient to take Jack down quickly. She wasn't taking her time like Jack was.
"What are you holding back for?" Jade hissed, a little angry at the defensive attempt. "Aren't you supposed to be rabid?!"
She fired her jabs again. Jack took them with her blocks.
The rookie had misread Jack's intention. She wanted to show how far she would go. So Aldemir didn't want to be babied? Show the professional that she was on the same level as Jack.
Then give it to her already, she demanded it!
"Your bark's worse than your bite?!" Jade taunted. And fired a sweep at her.
Too early. Jack swiftly sidestepped like a wolf leaping back. And she returned the favor with a hook, catching Jade by surprise. Two more punches landed by the hound, each deflected by Jack's block.
Both girls stepped back. Jade was starting to feel the burn, but Jack was barely breaking a sweat.
"I've not been holding back, rookie," Jack sang, a small tint of ferocity spilling out. "I'm just getting started."
Second-stage foam. Now the teeth were ready to bear down, even with the chain on. But the rookie didn't shudder. In fact, she shone a light beam back.
Good. Jack didn't want to see fear.
She danced on her tiptoes, firing her shots at the rookie. Jade didn't quiver back, however, and instead swung her jabs at the gaps of Jack's attacks.
Normally, most rivals Jack had fought would back off from her, just to be on the safe side in defense. But this one was different. She could see it in her eyes. She wasn't afraid of her. She was intent to go all the way to the end, regardless of who came on top.
That gave Jack a rush.
Give it your all, Rookie!
Jade swept a kick at Jack, but her elbow quickly clenched down on it and shoved it away. With her balance thrown off as the older woman backed a step, Jade tumbled down.
"That was a dirty move!" She shot back onto her feet.
"Hey, this isn't even a real match. Why follow the rules?"
The young girl smirked wider with a few soft laughs, and her fists were back up. The spark in her eyes said, "oh, I'm gonna like this."
Left, right, left, right. The crowd was roaring loudly. Now and then, Rahim mimicked weaker forms of Jade's hooks in the background, slowly hyping that his sister would come out victorious. Out of the boisterous audience, Mert didn't move an inch from his perch, but the excitement from the match below slowly etched a smile into his wrinkled face.
Both women didn't stop, their spirits flaming just as big as the cheers around them. But Jack had underestimated her own stamina. Rookie was catching up while Jack was slowing down bit from her last night's attempt at a coup caught up to her.
Shit, fine time for the tables to be turning.
Then Jade launched her signature move at an opening, one leg up ready to whoosh down like a scorpion's tail.
Jack dodged it, her arms parried it off just as it went down. Jade had put herself into the opening. The older kickboxer squatted low and readied the frontal jump like a wolf would at a deer's neck. She fired an uppercut forward, and Jade was stunned back by a front kick.
That wasn't Jack's signature move. But she had created it over the years as a bluff to her opponents, that she was coming in for the kill. Jade should have expected that—it was on every TV match.
Jade fumbled back from the bluff.
"Oh, c'mon. It wasn't that bad!" Jack droned, closing in on the young woman-
Then suddenly, Jade lashed out at her.
"Whoa!" That was teeth! Trying to take a big chunk out of her! "What the-"
Huffed growls made Jack glance up. The young kickboxer didn't have her healthy complexion anymore. In fact, her body was contorted and twisted, her eyes went white and hollow, and her skin blistered with darkened veins.
It was like the spitting image of those monsters from those kinds of movies.
When did the Harran Virus hit the Outskirts?
"J-Jade?" What just happened?
"You left me to die…"
"What?" Jack uttered. Confused. She didn't understand.
"You left me to die, Kyle!"
"Jade, whoa, now! Snap out of it! W-Who's Kyle?!" Some ex-boyfriend?
"Youleftmetodieyouleftmetodieyouleftmetodie!"
It was like an episode from an old mystery horror show she had seen once. Everything about this was unreal, unfamiliar, and uncontrollable. Jack stepped back—the Wild Dog with her tail between her legs—at this change of scene. The script had derailed away from its climactic scene because of a last-minute director's decision.
And at the drop of a pin, the climax hit its peak.
"GAAAAARGH!" the young kickboxer screamed.
"Shit!" Jack cursed. She bolted out of the ring. "Shit! Shit!"
"Gaarrgh!"
And suddenly, she was surrounded. Everyone. They were all infected. Rahim, Mert, the other gym members. Everyone had been turned.
The day Harran fell, everything changed forever. It happened right outside the local gym.
Wait! No! That wasn't right! It would only happen three years later. The virus was a slow build over the weeks, not a quick infestation in just a couple of seconds!
But did that matter now? Jack booked for the main entrance. She dodged left and right from the swinging arms and the snarling teeth. Run. Run!
They wanted her dead. They wanted her to join them. Everyone was gone. And Jade was zooming close behind, her fingers grasping at the tips of Jack's hair.
Jack had to get out. But there was no escape from the virus. It was already inside her.
Run! RUN!
She had to at least try; giving up was never a quote in her book. Jack pushed the gym doors wide open in a desperate attempt. Hit by the white, blinding light.
And out into the whiteness stood the hooded man she saw earlier—his back to her. She had gradually come to a stop. Because all the scary stuff behind her vanished in an instant. She didn't feel their presence anymore.
The moment of clarity was short-lived when she noticed the man trembling. Reeling down, hands covering his ears and, muffling "sorry" over and over again.
The stranger looked so tortured. As if mourning for the dead.
"Who-"
Before she could even ask a question, the man slowly wheeled around with a vocal click, click, click.
Click.
The face of the Day Hunter glared back at her.
"RAARGH!"
All she saw was the flash of the canines coming at her neck.
"Gaaph!" Jack bolted up. Breathing heavily. Sweating profusely. She gave a quick, hard look around!
No, she was in the trailer. In Scanderoon. Remember? She crashed there.
Not at Mert's gym. Not at the Outskirts. Not in the past.
She slumped back in her sleeping bag. Breathe in. Breathe out. 1, 2, 3, 4, with her fingers counting down. Breathe in. 1, 2, 3, 4. Breathe out.
Rinse and repeat.
Again and again, until finally, she calmed herself down and wiped the sweat beads off her temple.
Hell's bells... It has been a while since she had such a dream. Or a trip into memory lane where the train derailed into Nightmare Ville. That was most definitely not how the memory ended. Was it because she had gotten too many blows to the head that her memories were jumbled again?
It certainly felt that way. Maybe she didn't give that 'freakazoid' enough credit for being a worthy opponent. But back to that dream.
That was Jade. And Rahim. Supposed to have been a normal day at the gym. But Jade infected? And turned?
Nonsense! Champ was fine the last time she heard from her. She even talked to her over the radio! It was impossible for the champion to be taken down! Not likely.
Because if she was infected…
...Rahim would never let it go. Jack had spent enough time knowing that the two children were inseparable. The only family they had left was each other.
"Enough. Don't think about it. Jade's fine," she said to herself. "And so is Rahim. Harris too. Everyone at the Tower is fine. Yeah."
She shoved the unsettling feeling far down. As far as possible.
"Yeah! You'll see them at the Tower." Jack breathed deeply and tried to convince herself again. "You'll see them soon... Now move your arse and get back to work."
She pushed herself up. Then she felt every part of her body with needles. Why the bloody hell did she feel like a car rammed right into her-
Oh. Right. She went one-on-one with a Special.
Again, Jack tried forcing herself up and walking the agony off her muscles. The recent bites were still pretty bad that she had to rebandage them before covering them up with her sleeves. No one at the Junction should see the kind of night she had; they'd worry too much.
Ok. She grabbed the doorknob. Let's see what the new day has in store for me.
"Arrrrgh... I hate mornings." The sunlight was the first to welcome her, blinding her eyes and compelling her to put back her shades. She should have been used to it by now. But nooo, her eyes just hated the sun.
Another new day in the city of the dead. No smell of rich tea and a nice buttered toast, just the horrid reek of rotten flesh and smoke into the pandemic.
For some people, the absence of normality would slowly gnaw them down. The need to change would rupture out of them to desperately get out of the outbreak and be free. For Jack, her years have taught her one thing: adaptation.
Sometimes, you can't always stay in one spot.
Another deep inhale of the morning air, and she loudly choked on the odor.
The burning smell from last night lingered so strong—as a matter of fact, the corpse of a fried-up Volatile next to the door was the source. She scurried away. The next person to use the safehouse could do the clean-up duty, not her.
"Blagh… Rancid."
She should head back to the Junction. Surely, Siv had a lot of work to give her. Speaking of work, she still had a list to do.
Jack patted her down. Where did she put her phone-
Cla-clink!
There was an odd sound that stopped her and made her look at her feet. Many pieces knocking at each other. By her foot was a small bundle wrapped in cloth. Actually, the torn cloth looked mighty familiar to her.
Was it there last night before she jumped into the safehouse? She tapped it again with her toe, waiting for some reaction. When nothing happened, she kneeled down and opened it up. To her surprise, it wasn't some horrendous organ or a small bomb.
"Now why is this here?"
She picked up her phone, which was a bit more scratched than it should have been. Maybe it had fallen out of her bag during her life-and-death chase. But the phone still warranted her asking another question: why was it wrapped up like a present?
More importantly, there were the rest of the contents: craft parts, gauzes, and specific things a survivor needed. The gift hamper was too perfect—like someone had read her mind on what she needed for the fresh bite marks. Someone had picked up her phone, pried into it, and put this basket together.
Someone came to her safehouse.
So she scanned around for her unknown visitor, who was probably long gone by now.
Or was he still nearby?
How cunning, frankly rude, and most of all, apprehensive. Was it a friend or a foe?
Silence couldn't answer that question for her...
Beep!
Her wariness lessened at the buzz of a call. So Jack kept a mental note about her little night visitor, brushed off her rigidity and moved to her comms with the usual flamboyant flair.
"Mad Jack, professional retrieval specialist here. How may I help you-"
"JACK! Oh my god! Jack, you're still alive!" the young voice suddenly boomed into her eardrum. Jack had to take the earpiece out for a second.
Who knew someone else could holler just as hysterically loud as Bones on a normal day?
The voice backed away from the mic on the other end. "She's alive! I told you she was alright!"
"Whoa, Siv! Come back to the mic and tell me where the fire is." What rattled the young teen's cage so badly? "I haven't disappeared off the face of the map now, have I?"
Jack could hear the dear girl's chair move anxiously. Whatever happened, the runner must have thought that the worst had come to the invincible ex-kickboxer, to the point where she was lost for words. "Y-You - they told me - that Hunter and the bag-"
"You're not making any sense here, princess. Start over. What happened?"
"Where do I even begin?!" Siv groaned. Ok, it really was that bad, Jack thought to herself. "We thought you got killed last night."
"Of course not. I'm at the safehouse, remember-"
"That's what we thought too. Then Fazil and Orhan came in around three. They got this bag of stuff. And, and, they were stuff some of the locals sent you for, right?!"
"I'm sorry. Who and who? And what bag?"
"Just come back to the Junction!" the young girl howled with frustration. "You can see it for yourself."
The conversation dropped, leaving Jack feeling more puzzled than ever. But she might as well oblige and go back to the junction; actions spoke louder than words.
Moreover, she had to show everyone that "Hey, I lived a day outside, and I'm still here. So what's today's job?". Reassure Siv one more time that Jack was very much alive. The people of the Junction were a bunch of jittery people, after all. The grim news of a newly-joined member's death would lower morale terribly.
"Clocktower." That was one landmark Mahir told her to look out for, prompting her to take to the high grounds and search. "And there's the Junction." Sure enough, Jack spotted the familiar tops of the Junction, northeast, seven streets away from the overpass.
If she had taken a turn at the last street she ran through the night before, she could have gone right back to the gates. Thankfully, the morning was less hostile with the Biters.
In no time flat, Jack was back in the Junction Safe Zone. The welcoming was, of course, slate and unnoticed; nobody wanted to be attached to anyone who left the grounds, especially one known to be infected with the virus. Which was understandable to Jack. She got a comment from the quartermaster and one or two people, saying they were actually surprised she had made it through the first night.
At least, there was one person who made Jack feel glad to be acknowledged that she was alive and well—the one runner rushing over to her in the front foyer, her green and black sneakers nearly shrieking across the tiled floor.
"Jack!" the little princess uttered, grateful to see the brunette again.
Then, as sudden as her appearance was, her pace slowed down. The worried frown eventually transformed into an angrier one once she was up close to Jack.
"Don't do that to me again! You really scared everyone here."
Now that's a lie, Jack thought to herself. But she refrained from saying that.
"I haven't done anything, and already, I'm outed as a criminal. What exactly did I do wrong?"
"No, nothing. It's just..." Siv recoiled in the spot, overstepping the line with her outburst. She exhumed out an apologetic sigh. "Sorry. I found out about it an hour ago. And you weren't picking up your comms."
"I was pretty out from last night's run, hon." She thought more about it. "And there was that fistfight."
"Wait. What fistfight?" A little shock and awe crept back into Siv's face.
"Don't fret about it. I'm alive and well," Jack assured her again. She was physical. Not a ghost. "Alright?"
"Yeah. Yeah." Siv aggressively nodded. "Sure."
"Now. Tell me what happened. We can sort this mess out and get right back to work. Need to finish up that list you all gave me-"
"Uh, Jack? Yeah, somebody already finished most of your list."
Jack hunched her eyebrows together and blinked a couple of times. The sunglasses had easily slipped down the bridge of her crooked nose, revealing the wry eyes. She was not on the same page as Siv was.
"I'm sorry. What do you mean someone finished it?"
"I thought you were being real ballsy last night. You know, doing night errands."
Well, that would be a triumph she'd gladly take. But she fully knew that she did not go shopping last night. "I told you. I've been at the safehouse all night. Where did you get that idea?"
Siv was about to speak out but halted at first, keeping control of the numerous incomprehensible bursts she would have given again. One breath in and out, and she started from the top like Jack had asked.
"Last night, we had two runners outside. They split off from B-Team for a drop near the waterfront. They were supposed to get to a safehouse but...they got jumped by Alexander's men."
"Alexander?" she repeated.
"He's the prisoners' leader. The one in charge over at the penitentiary."
"And these runners are alright?"
"Fazil-" Siv bit her lower lip. "His leg's badly hurt but Doc should be finishing the surgery by now. Orhan... He's-"
"Still recovering from last night," the brunette finished the sentence for her again, a clear indication that she knew exactly how Orhan was. Mentally.
"Not just from the thugs... They also had a Hunter come by their safehouse."
Jack was stunned to hear that. She hadn't seen what a Hunter was yet, guessing that it could very well be the one she fought yesterday. But if she had to gander, a Hunter was a horrifying enemy for the locals to have great fear for.
It spelt bad, regardless, like any other infected.
"Now that is very unlucky." Poor boy's mind must have turned frail.
"Depends how you look at it." Jack's worry was unwarranted by the strange statement. Siv tried to find the right words again, but she was failing at it, resorting her saying, "You need to hear it from him."
Could Jack just get to the point? But she obediently followed after the young runner to the sickbay. She had a peek through the open door, spotting Hadya tending to a man on the cot—his left leg bandaged up. Fazil, she presumed. The two runners didn't go in because, right outside the sickbay, there was a young man taller than Siv. Older by three years old.
And beyond horror-struck, sitting back and forth with arms around his legs. If Jack had to guess, he had been there since he arrived, while Will took in his injured friend.
"Orhan?" Siv was cautious, almost afraid that one sudden move could startle the lad and give him a heart attack. Even her steps were so small and quiet. "This is the newcomer I was talking about."
But the lad didn't stir. So Siv wheeled back to Jack.
"This is Orhan. He's from B-Team."
Jack said nothing. Siv thought she would with her bright, sarcastic, dynamic personality. Maybe that could be a bit of help to the traumatized man. The ex-kickboxer was good at reading people and his expression was one she had often seen too many times. The eyes didn't look elsewhere, but the floor and his fingers were nearly white from gripping so tightly. It wasn't so much because of the fear the young lad had after everything he witnessed last night.
It was guilt.
"Orhan," Siv tried worriedly again, with a slight shake on his shoulder. "Can you tell her what you saw?"
All of a sudden, Jack sat down on the floor beside Orhan. A surprise to Siv but she kept quiet. The bold stance the brunette always held was reflected in her arms slouched on the knees and the stern shoulders.
No witty one-liners out of her. Instead, Jack waited with eyes on Orhan as if keeping watch. To make sure that if he would lose it on the spot, Jack was right next to him to be his anchor.
Finally, the young adult noticed her. As if resurfacing out of dangerous waters.
With trembling lips, he started. "...W-We were ambushed… T-They destroyed our safehouse. Wanted us dead… W-Wanted me to spy on the Junction."
Siv frowned angrily. Dirty, rotten creeps.
"Then t-this Hunter jumped out of nowhere... K-Killed them all."
There was no reaction from Jack. She patiently took in every word. And he was compelled to continue.
"It...It gave me this bag of stuff. J-Just like that. F-Fazil managed to hurt it with the UV light. We ran back to the Junction…"
Again, nothing from the woman in red. No joke, no words of comfort—anything like the other adults tried to give him. Trying to sugarcoat the terrors or encourage him that they were safe. He couldn't even see the expression she wore behind the shades, and in some way, it helped. Jack attentively listened to the boy without a break in her silence. And the quieter she was, the more he opened up.
He was almost ready to burst out crying.
"Hey, it's..." Siv started and ended softly. He wasn't back at the nightmare but she wasn't good with words either.
Jack took the first movement before she did. A hand slipped onto Orhan's and gave it a squeeze.
"Take your time," Jack said softly.
And that was it. The first tears out of him in a long time. "...I...it's my fault. I left B-Team to go after that drop."
Siv glanced at him, at first, shocked. But she said nothing—she didn't want to show her disappointment over a broken rule.
"The prisoners got to it first and... I thought I could get back," he whimpered with his head down. "Fazil...he's my brother... He found out I left and followed me... But those men...they hurt him because of me. I-I didn't mean for any of this to happen."
A boy who wanted to be a hero. Jack had seen this many times.
"Orhan," Siv started. She wanted to say it wasn't his fault. She had a lot of things she wanted to say. But a shake of Jack's head silently informed her not to. She put a finger to her lips—Orhan too overwhelmed by grief and guilt to notice it.
Being told it wasn't anyone's fault wouldn't change the past. The young lad was back to shaking like a leaf, his grip even tighter than earlier.
He wouldn't listen to that kind of excuse.
"It's scary." Jack's voice was uncharacteristically gentle. Her patience chirped down the anguish bit by bit, freeing Orhan as he slowly raised his head back up again. "Being in a situation like that… But you made it back home. You and Fazil. You're both here, alive."
A reminder, a reality, a truth spoken to Orhan by someone he just met. He was here and alive. No one in the Junction was judging him for his mistake. He and Fazil weren't killed back at the safehouse last night. And he didn't need to keep the emotions inside.
That was the whole truth.
"You did good, lad," Jack said. "You did good."
Orhan's slow nods were still shaking. But his head was again heavy from the big tears swelling up again. He sniffled, fighting them, but Jack's compassionate gaze told him to let it all out. No one would fault him for it and an older woman convinced him. Slowly, he seemed to settle down after a few loud sobs.
On the spot, Siv couldn't believe it. After everything Orhan had seen, with his mind cracked under the pressure, she had thought the guy would have difficulty recollecting himself. In the three months, she has seen men and women break down. Losing it. Unable to stand up. Even their feet had failed them.
Suddenly, someone outside their small community gave a hand to the runner—the same person everyone in the Junction said was notorious in the ring. The same person most thought would die on the first night outside.
"Better?"
Orhan couldn't stop nodding quickly, then gradually.
"Alright." Jack then noticed Hadya by the door. "I think someone wants to see you right now."
His eyes perked wide open, and he turned to see Hadya at the door. Then at someone behind the pulled white curtains, on the cot. Orhan almost flew into the sickbay. He had the apologetic speech ready in his head to give, but the moment he reached the bedside, his words came out broken and, finally, silent when Fazil held him tight with a forgiving smile.
It was a rare, happy moment Siv saw in the sickbay. In the whole Junction. Three months of everything bad and nobody could get a break from it.
She had wanted to have the airdrop brought to the Junction. So that the mood could finally change.
But this was good too.
It had become a common, grim courtesy to acknowledge someone dead if they never returned. Nobody had the bother, the bravery or the determination to do more. Admittedly, Siv just didn't know what to do with those kinds of situations, not when she was dealing with her own mental issues. She turned back to the ex-kickboxer with a soft grin on her face, hands in pockets, and a satisfied gaze at the reunion between the two runners.
The young teen had always thought adults had all the solutions in the world—they didn't need to listen to someone young like her. She had thought they didn't have the time to care with small stuff before the outbreak. And looking at Jack prompted her to ask a question.
"What are you? Some kind of therapist?"
It took Jack by surprise at first, but she simply jeered. "Please. I'm no miracle worker. I can't even understand my own head."
"Really?" Siv found that sentence a bit odd. She couldn't put her finger on why.
"Sometimes, everyone needs someone to give a listening ear. No need to bottle emotions up," she explained. She then walked off and Siv followed—leaving Fazil and Orhan alone to catch up. "Leads to too many dumb decisions if you don't get it off your chest."
"...Is that why you enjoy fighting?"
Jack hunched an eyebrow at Siv. "So you're going to be a mind reader now?" Still, she was obliged to continue. "I suppose I wanted to take it out with another way. A little fix to get through the day."
"Never peg you to have a troubled past."
"Not really troubled. Just...trying to figure out who I was as a person. Everyone has to start their hands dirty," she recited her old manager's quote.
"Well...what you did back there? Thanks. You really helped Orhan."
"He helped himself. I was simply there for him."
It was an honest remark, a side Siv never thought the brunette would have. This was the same granny who tried to negotiate with GRE soldiers by holding a bomb in her hand and then tried to have a one-on-one with a Special.
So the ex-kickboxer had a gentle side to her. That was almost unbelievable. Almost. Nobody was going to believe Siv if she were to tell anyone. Not even Will, Jack's one fan.
"Now. Back to the main topic." Jack had steered back to Siv, hands clapped together as she thought on her next sentence. With some difficulty. "...A freak of nature just gave them the stuff I was hired to collect?"
Right, what Siv was trying to explain to her earlier. Even she found it far more implausible than the few loose screws in the brunette's head. "That's what both of them said. We figured the bag was yours."
"That explains why you were being hysterical earlier."
"Can you blame me for thinking that a monster attacked your safehouse and took off with your stuff?"
"This day keeps getting better and better."
"Hey, they're not lying. They've been through a lot-"
"Wasn't implying anything. I'm more concerned about this one freakazoid. It is strange for it to have a bag of goods and stranger for it give a bag of goods to living people."
"Hah. Strange is right. I mean...that thing could have killed Fazil and Orhan. And it just left them. That's the weirdest part."
"You know..." Jack laid the cards down in her head. How oddly nice and neatly connected the pieces were that she couldn't dismiss it for just coincidence. "They might not be the only ones who got a gift like that last night." She pulled out her phone. "Someone left me one at my doorstep last night. It's not even my birthday."
Siv didn't share her stern analysis; she was so creeped out that she wrapped her arms together, feeling the chill down her spine. "They said this thing was something they hadn't seen before. You don't think it's the same Hunter we saw at the chapel, do you?"
That thought did cross Jack's mind. So she said honestly, "I don't know... There's been a lot of strange things happening since we met Freakazoid."
"So what? The thing has brain damage that it can't decide whether it wants to kill or not?"
"Hah!" The laugh came out unnaturally brash to the young runner but Jack didn't care. "Oh, sure. An infected zombie can have a personality disorder."
Ok. Siv had to agree that notion was stupid. A walker with brain damage and doesn't eat human brains.
"Everyone's a bit on edge with this one," Siv explained. "Even Mahir's telling everyone to be on high alert. Saying it sounds unpredictable."
"Oh. I fully concur. Which is why I'm going to check this out."
Wait. Did she hear that right? No, that was a joke. "Stop kidding around, Jack. We don't need to be going after it. Could be too dangerous."
"You don't," Jack explained before nearing Siv with a wide grin. "I can."
Siv hunched her brow at the cocky woman.
"Ok, now you're talking out of your ass."
"I won't deny that sometimes I get in trouble for that. But I do deliver my word all the same."
"You're serious?" The overconfidence she saw glowing actually clicked in Siv's head, making her eyes wide. "You're actually serious."
Jack just shrugged. She meant it.
Oh god... This woman was going to get herself killed.
"Jack. This isn't a normal zombie. This is a Hunter. In broad daylight. An apex predator that could give Volatiles a run for their money!"
"Sounds like the Punisher I fought in 2009," Jack chided. "One hella' man that one was."
"It almost killed you!"
"Yes. I've never dealt something like this back home... But keeping the folks safe and free from the infected back home is what Ravens do. I have to follow through with that job."
The Ravs. Siv had heard about this other group as a passing gossip, all because the person in front of her kept marketing herself in order to convince people in the Junction she could get the job down. Mahir seemed weirdly pleased about this group for some reason too.
"Now that I'm here," Jack continued, showing more of her genuineness. "That goes the same for the Junction."
"I..." Again, Siv was lost for words. It was just that difficult to convince an adult she knew wouldn't listen. It had always been the other way around—other adults shutting her ears off. But Jack listened.
The only problem here, however, was that this grown-up's endgame was suicidal!
"Do you even have a plan?"
"Always. And a backup plan too." An easy response she had probably said a hundred times before. She closed the gap between them and softly spoke, "I've got a secret weapon up my sleeve, princess. I'll take care of this...gift-giving Day Hunter."
There was no budging out of the professional brawler. Another stubborn adult in front of her but this time, Siv didn't leave angry and frustrated from a one-sided argument that wasn't going her way. Will did say that the Wild Dog was a terrifying title. But an ex-kickboxer going after what might be a new type of a Hunter? The teenager couldn't help but actually worry.
"Fine." It was going to be the same in the end, regardless of how hard the young girl tried to stop her. "You're gonna need this."
Another gift Jack didn't expect to get so soon, but it was one Siv truly believed she needed the most: the rope ascender unhinged off her own belt.
"Does this make me part of the team now?" Jack joked with flattery.
"Not even close," Siv scoffed. "It's not as convenient as a grappling hook. But it'll get you away from the Biters faster. Noam's a skilled mechanic. Made these for us runners."
The innerworkings showed the mechanic's magnum opus cleverly as Jack examined the ascender. The grip was good, easy slotable to hook onto a zipline and what seemed to be a power-winch looked just as powerful to bring a person's weight across the tripwire without yanking the arm holding the ascender right off.
Definitely a tool she'd never leave without.
"Much obliged."
"Just come to us in one piece, Granny… You're no good to us dead." That last part was a little harsh, but in no way did Siv want to be soft on the newcomer. She wasn't a sap! With that said, she turned away and left. The day was still young, and she had her own tasks to do.
"When are you ever gonna stop calling me Granny, little princess?" Jack asked, pretending to sound offended.
"When you stop calling me princess!" Siv hollered angrily from down the hall.
That was enough to get the girl peeved, with clenched fists swinging fast at the side and soft curses sprouting from her mouth. It didn't boat well; Siv heard Jack chuckle loudly behind her back. The damn granny liked to tease, and she hated it! Everyone is the same!
But Jack meant it out of goodwill. This place needed to keep up with its liveliness during these tough times—one youngster brooding over Jack's own safety shouldn't sour the atmosphere.
Now. Time to attend to the other issue at hand. In the hall she was in, there was nobody to hear her speak out her thoughts and go over the clues she had picked up on.
"So someone's been doing my job… And it's a Hunter." She didn't know whether to feel pleased or offended. Or worried. Or puzzled.
But was it really the same Hunter? This was an animalistic killer with no rational thinking or remorse when she fought it. Then suddenly, it grew a conscience. Even took down the thugs to save two runners.
It sounded both impossible and...a little possible. That kind of feeling of one little brick contradicted the whole pyramid and made it fumble down. Jack remembered all too well that one word that Day Hunter slipped out—that reflected a little glint of humanity, as crazy as it sounded in her head.
The thing didn't say that name vocally, of course. But it did say it. It showed something inside was trying to get out.
Telling her that he was right in front of her, inside the monster.
Moreover, an infected savior in the city. If Bones were to hear this, he'd say Jack was mad as a Hatter. Again.
Then he would think about it. And Jack thought along the same line the smart lad would go along. This creature obviously had some sense of intelligence. It knew how to perceive the differences between hostile men and defenseless civilians. Which was crazy. Laughable. And there was another question that needed answers, not theories.
How did he even learn about Jack's list?
Then she stopped herself and looked at her phone in her hand. A lot of things were lining up again too nicely for her liking. One coincidence can be tossed out aschance. Two more: it was either planned or something changed into a pattern.
"Sneaky bugger, aren't ya. Prying into a woman's phone and giving it back," she said to herself, tapping the phone on her other palm. But it was intriguing...
It was impressive for a monster to remember how to use a phone, but that wasn't important. She realized on the spot a more pressing matter as she pulled down her armband for a peek at the fresh bite mark the mongrel gave her.
"And you hadn't died by my secret weapon."
That caught her full interest.
A/N: 27/10/19 Both revamped and reedited this chapter. I would say that dialogue is not my strongest thing (at least I believe it myself) but I'm happy to have push further in this chapter, especially the interactions between the runners and Jack. I'm more for suspense and a bit of drama than humor or casualness. It's also fun to write Jack's past with Jade and Rahim and there will be more onwards through the chapters.
The ascender tool is one thing I thought of, originally was mentioned in later chapters but here was a good spot to put it. My "game design" aim is sorta like a partnership between Mutant Crane and Mad Jack, so of course, as crazy as it sounds, Jack would need as much of leverage to keep up with a sentient Night Hunter. The ascender tool is a second tool besides the grappling hook to speed your way faster like in Bioshock: Infinite and Tomb Raider, the reboot series.
Just as I said that Mad Jack's skillset is designed in the works to be able to keep up with Crane, Crane's own skillset will have to be tweaked down - that it can't be exactly the same as a pure Night Hunter's skill tree. Because that would make the game broken. Additionally, I have some ideas down the line that would make his skill tree more interesting: in a way of a stealth runner that comes from the back while Jack is a brawler (fortitude over speed) that goes in from the front and taking the eyes on her, not on Crane when he attacks. That's the kind of COOP combat I see for them.
Anyway, hope you enjoy this revamped chapter and please review, give me your constructive criticism too. And ideally, the next chapter may become mostly a new one for you to look forward too!
15/8/20 - Reedited
7/2/21 - Added new lines, fixed mistakes and edited parts according to new timestamp from pilot.
3/4/21 - Edited some fixes.
17/2/22 - Went over a full chapter edit with some fixes, retwists, deletes and adjustments. Edited some dialogues.
21/2/22 - Complete reedit of the beginning chapter with Crane's perspective to correct the flow between last chapter and this.
6/7/22 - Changed a character's appearance and lines. Made Orhan and Fazil sibilings
22/3/23 - Edited some fixes and details.
1/1/24 - Final fixes and changes, I hope