AN: It's hard to be consistent with the updates and I'm doing the best of what I can. I love this story, and I'm proud of my progress and I like sharing my progress with you guys, but I like having food, water, internet, and electricity too. My job doesn't pay much but it gives me what I need, especially for me living in a 3rd world country. So without further ado, enjoy this chapter :3.
Chapter 19 – A Storm Brewing
At the heart of the bustling fortress stood a massive concrete structure, fortified to the hilt with sandbags, barbed wire, and improvised barricades. This is the war room—the nerve center of the entire base, where every strategy, field op, and critical decision is made.
Inside one of the rooms of this imposing building, a group of individuals gathered around a long, rectangular table cluttered with maps, blueprints, and schematics as they wrap up their meeting to a close.
"Does everyone agree on the decision?" a man's voice cut through the low murmur of the room, carrying with it a commanding presence.
*Shepard, the commander in charge of the entire fortress, was a man whose sharp strategic mind and decisive leadership had saved countless lives. His ability to navigate the chaos of war earned him the unwavering respect and loyalty of those under his command. He was both revered and feared, the kind of leader who inspired confidence in his people while maintaining a calm, calculating demeanor that made him a force to be reckoned with.
The commander's gaze moved over the assembled group, sharp and expectant, waiting for any sign of dissent. The room fell into a series of silent murmurs, as each person discussed details amongst themselves towards the gravity of the decision laid before them. Most agreed to the decision while some, whispered to one another of their thoughts, but none dared to speak out their reservations. That is, except for one.
"We've got enough problems as it is, now we gotta add this, too? What's the point of this trial, if we've already decided what we're gonna do with him anyway?" A gruff, dark skinned man leaned back in his chair, scratching the stubble on the side of his face. His tone was sharp, carrying more frustration than curiosity. "Seems to me it's a waste of our damn time." His words hung in the air, unapologetic and unfiltered.
*Reed Mitchells, the base's quartermaster and lead engineer. A man of many talents, Reed could make just about anything work—from fortifying defenses to fine-tuning weapons. Hell, he could make a gun sing if he wanted to, and he wasn't just speaking figuratively. His reputation for ingenuity was only matched by his blunt honesty, and if there was one person who had the guts to voice what others were too afraid to say, it was him.
The man's words hung in the air, challenging the decision. Some had subtle looks of agreement, while others averted their gaze.
"Look, this isn't a popular decision—" Shepard began.
"...amongst other things," Reed muttered under his breath.
Shepard shot him a hard glare, pausing briefly before continuing. "The whole point of this trial is to stop people from picking fights with Brooks while he's here. He's a valuable asset, and with the war going full-swing, we need all the help we can get."
The dark-skinned man scoffed in disbelief. "That's assuming he'd even want to help."
Shepard dismissed the concern with a shake of his head. "He's a soldier. He'll come around. Any other questions?"
A woman raised her hand before she spoke, her tone inquisitive. "Who's keeping an eye on him?"
"Davis volunteered to keep a close eye on him. Anything else?"
Silence filled the room, with no one else speaking up. After a brief pause, Shepard nodded in acknowledgment.
"Alright, prep the city hall for the trial and get Davis to bring Brooks in. Dismissed."
Somewhere deep in the forests of West Virginia…
The Ericson's Boarding School for Troubled Youth, once a prestigious institution in the past, now stood as a desolate relic of its former glory. The courtyard, once full of laughter and energy of students, now lay hauntingly silent. The dormitory, reduced to charred remains, served as a grim reminder of the devastation wrought by the raider's invasion. Yet, amidst the devastation, the main building remained intact, its structure scarred but stood defiantly against the ravages of time.
Violet's eyes fluttered open, revealing a world that swirled and danced before her blurry vision. She slowly pushed herself upright, feeling an overwhelming weakness settle over her. Her throat was parched, and her muscles protested with every movement. A dull throb pulsed at the side of her head, and she clenched her jaw, biting back the pain. Her gaze fell on a glass of water beside her, and with a sense of urgency, she reached for it and drank greedily. The cool, soothing liquid washed down her dry throat, providing instant relief.
As her vision cleared, she recognized her surroundings immediately. She was back at the school, specifically in Marlon's old office. Confusion clouded her mind. "How did I...?" she muttered, the words trailing off her. Before she could piece her thoughts together, a familiar voice broke through.
"Violet!" Louis's voice was full of relief. He scrambled to his feet, almost tripping in his haste, the grogginess in his movements hinted that he had only just woken up. Without hesitation, he rushed to her side, wrapping her in a warm embrace. "I'm so glad you're alright," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Violet's eyes widened in surprise, the sudden warmth and comfort of his hug caught her off guard. "Louis?" she gasped, her voice carrying a mix of surprise and confusion. She hadn't expected to see him, let alone feel him embrace her so tightly. While she was happy to see him, she still found the hug a little bit uncomfortable but not in a creepy way. She's just not used to physical contact, especially with boys, stirring a bit of awkwardness within her.
"Uhmm… can you let me go now?" she asked, her voice soft but clear.
Louis didn't let go. His arms held on tighter as he whispered, "Please... Just... just let me have this." The sorrow in his usually upbeat voice pierced through Violet. The sadness weighed heavily, and for a moment, she felt her own walls crack a little.
Hesitant, but wanting to comfort him, she awkwardly returned the hug, her arms wrapping around him stiffly but with sincerity. It was strange for her, but considering the circumstances she let it slide. This was what he needed. After a brief, quiet moment, they finally parted from the embrace.
Louis quickly wiped the few tears that had escaped. "Sorry. I know you don't like to—"
"It's fine," Violet interrupted, her voice gentle. She offered him a small, sincere smile, letting him know that it was okay.
"I thought you were gone," Louis confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, the raw vulnerability in his tone made Violet's chest tighten.
She frowned slightly, concern flickering in her eyes. "What happened?" she asked.
Louis took a seat nearby, his shoulders slumping as he prepared to relive the events earlier. "What do you remember?"
Violet paused, closing her eyes for a moment as she sifted through her foggy memories. "I remember... the gates. They were breached. I dragged Willy to safety, but before I could get him out of there, we were surrounded. I tried to fight them off, but..." She trailed off, her brow furrowing as she struggled to grasp the details. "I don't remember anything after that."
Louis rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, one of them snuck up behind you and knocked you out."
Violet instinctively raised a hand to her head, still feeling the dull throb of pain at her temple. 'I guess that explains it', she thought to herself, but her mind quickly shifted to the others. "What happened to the rest?"
Louis took a deep breath, sighing as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. "They took everyone," he replied, his voice thick with emotion, unable to mask the sadness and frustration.
The news felt like a punch to her gut. The weight of his words hit her hard, and for the first time in years, Violet felt genuine surge of fear wash over her. Her pulse quickened, dread filling the pit of her stomach. "What do you mean? What... what happened to them?"
Louis hesitated, glancing down at the floor before continuing. "They were taking us towards the river. They had a boat ready to ship us off. But before we got there, walkers showed up—dozens of them. They came out of nowhere, surrounded us on all sides. It took every one of those guys to fight them off." He paused, Violet leaned forward slightly, her curiosity piqued despite the growing tension in her chest. "And that's when he showed up."
"Who?" Violet pressed, her intrigue piqued.
"His name's James. Quiet guy, doesn't talk much. Wore this... mask made from walker skin. Honestly, I thought he was one of them at first, but he was the one who got us out." Louis hesitated again, his voice dropping as sadness filled his eyes. "But not everyone."
Violet felt a sharp pang of guilt and sorrow pierce her heart. She wasn't particularly close with everyone at the school, but the thought of her friends—people she had come to care about in her own way—being taken or worse, weighed heavily on her.
After a long moment of silence, Violet dared to ask, despite her mind screaming at her not to. "Who got out?"
Louis let out a deep sigh, the frustration and sadness clear in his eyes. "Just you, me, Aasim, and Willy."
Violet swallowed hard, her heart sinking. "And the others?" she asked, though she could already feel the answer in the pit of her stomach.
Louis shook his head solemnly, avoiding her gaze.
Nodding, Violet let the reality of the situation settle over her. A heavy silence followed, until she finally broke it with the question gnawing at her. "What do we do now?"
Louis shifted uneasily, licking the corner of his lips in nervousness. "I don't know. I-I genuinely don't know. I mean, this is—this was Marlon's thing! Not mine."
Violet frowned, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Well, we can't just do nothing! What about the others?" she snapped.
Louis threw his hands up in exasperation. "What do you want from me, Vi? They have guns—we don't. We can't just waltz in there and say, 'Excuse me, have you seen my friend? Tall guy, blonde, varsity jacket? Oh, and while you're at it, can you point me to the fresh milk aisle? Thanks.' See what I mean?" he gave her a sarcastic look.
Rolling her eyes, Violet shot back, "Well, what do you want to do then?"
Louis was silent, his eyes darting away, clearly at a loss for any plan.
"That's what I thought," Violet muttered bitterly. She rubbed her temples, trying to suppress the growing headache. "Look, we can't stay here either. Let's face it, this school's fucked, and staying here is a death trap."
Louis groaned in defeat, sinking back to his seat. "Alright, alright, Miss Bossy! What do you suggest we do then?"
Violet didn't respond right away, her mind racing as she tried to formulate some kind of plan. "Just... let me think of something," she finally muttered, determination settling in her voice.
A sudden knock on the door interrupted their train of thought. The door creaked open, revealing Aasim standing in the dim light. His expression shifted from surprise, at seeing Violet awake, to immediate concern. "Guys, you need to see this," he said quickly, not bothering to explain further before turning on his heel and hurrying down the hallway.
Without a second thought, Violet and Louis exchanged a glance, their discussion forgotten. They scrambled to follow, their steps echoing through the empty halls as they chased after Aasim, they were unsure of what awaited them but considering the events of the day, it couldn't be good.
Central Detention Facility, Washington D.C….
The scarred, burnt man limped toward a large wall map of the United States, his uneven steps echoing faintly in the dimly lit room. The map was a tapestry of organized mess, connected by a line of red string, connecting several places like New Richmond, Sanctuary, Prescott Air Base, Alexandria, and the Kingdom, to name a few. These locations, each encircled with thick red ink, have little post-it notes on the side, each describing plans for each of these locations.
In his weathered hand, he held a piece of parchment, wrinkled and stained with blood. He scrutinized it for a moment, his cold eyes narrowing as he processed the information. His fingers twitched, almost eagerly, as he grabbed a marker and approached the map. He paused, then carefully drew a new circle over a region in the dense forests of West Virginia, labeling it with slow, deliberate strokes: "Delta."
With a grunt, he plunged a knife into the map, embedding it firmly into the same spot he'd just marked. He lingered for a moment, his hoarse voice breaking the silence. "You're not getting away a second time," he muttered darkly, a sinister smile twisting his lips.
AN: I introduced two original characters that has a major impact to the story but nothing that would shift the attention too much. So, here's a minimalist guide on who they are, and what they do. If you guys want a more detailed background just let me know. :3
Shepard: Commander of the Base. Responsible for the overall safety and security of the entire base against the living or undead.
Reed Mitchells: Quartermaster and Lead engineer. Responsible for base defenses, weapons and armor innovations, and maintenance.
There will be some other minor original characters but they'll mostly be mentioned by name.
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