Chapter Summary
- FIRST JOB
First day at the Junction and things are already bad. Siv's a concern. Not because of how much she might have heard...but how much she's been through already. I need to keep an eye on her. - Jack
TWO: THE WILD DOG
The descent down the radio building was slow for Jack. But for the young runner, Siv simply bounced from floor to floor as if nothing had happened. Her pace was quicker now—either from eagerness for the airdrop or sheer determination to prove she was fine. She was fine! Nothing wrong with her.
Jack wasn't convinced, though, keeping a close eye on the girl for any signs of trouble. That earlier scare had taken a year out of her.
"Right this way!" Siv called out, dramatically gesturing ahead.
Red flare smoke marked their destination—a deserted parking lot near the highway. The red container was in the open with its parachute draped over a car hood.
They were close now. The sooner they secured the supplies, the sooner Jack could get Siv back to the Junction. But she debated over the same route back, and on foot was all too dangerous.
"And there we go."
"Slow down there," Jack warned but the youngster was already off. The ex-kickboxer scanned their surroundings for threats—a lurking Bomber, a pack of raiders drawn by the smoke, anything.
One could never be too careful.
"Told ya it's a simple collection," Siv proudly proclaimed, chest puffed. "One airdrop of rations, first-aid and most importantly, Antizin."
Jack chuckled softly. The kid was too confident for her own good, but she admired the spirit.
"And Mahir said it would be too risky to go three streets away on my own. 'The newcomer can do it instead,' he said. Ha!"
The laugh was an invitation indeed. However, her boast faltered when Jack folded her arms and frowned. Disapprovingly.
"I said I was fine!" she whined loudly.
"Hm-hm."
"Look. Job well done," the younger lady grumbled as Jack checked the box. "Now Mahir can get off my back-"
"Say, Siv?" Jack interrupted.
She had already gone to work: clicking the buckles off and opening the lid with the same expectation Siv said about the contents. But one peek-in said that Siv was only half -right.
On one side of the box; rations enough to feed a large group for a week. However, the other side of the box caught Jack's attention. Carefully, she pulled the first item out into the light, lowering her shades.
Jack's eyes didn't need checking. It felt solid in her hand.
It was a grenade.
A real, live grenade.
"Do drops normally contain military-grade weapons and explosives?"
"Have you never opened an airdrop before—?" Siv joined her, only to freeze when her eyes landed on the grenade. Jack calmly raised it for her to see, her expression unreadable, like this was just another Tuesday. But the rest of the box...
Siv's jaw dropped. Ammo boxes, pistols, rockets —were those landmines?!
"Holy - this is enough to take out an army."
"Or a horde of zombies," Jack pointed. "Maybe more."
"W-Whoa. Hang on." Siv took a step back. "Why are they dropping stuff like this? We need Antizin, not these - well... Ok, maybe we could use them but...this is overkill."
"Who said they were dropping these for us?"
Siv's eyes widened further. That possibility hadn't even crossed her mind, but it clearly had for Jack.
Something about this wasn't right.
"Siv. When did these airdrops start?"
"Start...? About three weeks ago."
"Were the other boxes like this?"
"I dunno. We've never been able to grab one. Most of our supplies come from Dua. Mahir's friend."
Jack's gaze hardened, further examining the box's design.
"This isn't from the Ministry."
"And that's important...why?"
"Because the Ministry stopped sending supplies to Harran a while ago," Jack explained, noticing Siv's furrowed brow. That detail was news to her; to any Scanderoon citizen. "Would they send aid to another infected city?"
Siv found herself unable to answer. Uncomfortable food for thought.
Would they send aid? When the whole world was slowly falling? No, containing the outbreak was their priority, and Scanderoon wasn't even close to being at the top of their list.
Jack could see the growing disappointment outweigh the anxiety on Siv's face. Betrayal. The lass had hoped for something—anything—to change life in the Junction. Now the Ministry tried to stick it up their arses again.
"Then...if it's not for us, who are these for?!" Siv couldn't help but ask hysterically.
Jack already had the answer, plastered on the box: a large logo sticker, like a nametag to tell anyone that the contents belonged to that group and nobody else. No one should be opening up someone else's Christmas present.
So it was a real punch to Jack when she read the name.
GRE.
Then Jack heard it.
Click!
-the unmistakable sound of an assault rifle echoed behind them, dangerously terrifying enough to send chills down their backs.
"Freeze!" a voice hollered.
Jack hadn't seen any raiders or Specials lurking earlier, but whoever these new guests were, they weren't here for pleasantries.
"Turn around!"
Jack remained calm, her gaze shifting to Siv. Unlike her, the young girl was trembling, her arms stiff. In the seconds, Siv held her breath as she shot a panicked glance at the most reliable adult of the duo, looking for any notion on what they should do. Jack gave her a subtle nod— she's got this —and they slowly turned around.
Two men stood behind them. Soldiers in heavy tactical gear—well-armored against bites, yet light enough to move quickly. But it wasn't just their presence that made the scene terrifying; it was the guns aimed directly at the women.
The kind of recklessness that ignored the risk of drawing the infected with a single shot.
Jack's eyes flicked to the emblem on their gear. GRE.
Shit. Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit. This is bad, Siv thought with chattering teeth.
"Put your hands up!" one soldier barked. American voice.
Siv quickly did as she was told. Jack didn't budge.
Breathe in. Nobody noticed the brunette counting to four with her free hand. 1, 2, 3, 4. Breathe out.
She examined her opponents like a quiet she-wolf against two outsiders, watching fiercely for stepping her territory. Waited for them to make their first move.
Their posture, attire and the way they held their guns showed their confidence in their skills. Mercenaries, no doubt. The type hired by crooks, corporations, or anyone with deep pockets. The two men clearly had experience in close combat but relied too much on ammo.
Jarheads with tunnel vision.
She could take them. It'd require three steps: disarm one, neutralize the other before he could shoot, and make sure Siv stayed out of the crossfire.
Easier said than done.
But she'd faced worse odds before.
For now, the best choice of action was to keep watch on their movements and draw their attention away from Siv.
The man on her left holstered up his walkie-talkie. "Perimeter One, we've got two thieves here."
"We're not criminals, you assholes," Siv hissed.
"Shhh," Jack hushed cooly. The chances they had at keeping things calm, the better they had chances of getting out unscathed.
She remained still—stern and observant.
Breathe in. Her fingers counting. 1, 2, 3, 4. Breathe out.
"Roger that." The soldier returned his rifle to aim, squarely on the girls. "C'mon. We're taking you to the Checkpoint."
Siv jerked her head back, confused. "The Checkpoint?"
"Shhh."
Siv clamped her mouth shut after Jack's hushing. What would a humanitarian organization want survivors to the Checkpoint? They might as well shoot them now!
"Hang on. She's just a kid," the grunt's partner uttered. A moment of hesitation behind his protective eye gear as he trailed his gaze back and forth to Siv.
"Orders are orders. If she's clean, she can go."
Go? Go where?!
"And if she's not?!" the partner pushed. There was something here Siv would like to know too! But then again, she was too afraid to ask.
"Same story. No infected leaves the Zone."
Those insensitive words hit like a gut punch. Siv couldn't believe what she had heard—GRE branding them as Virals immediately!
"We're not infected!" Siv burst out, her voice shrill and desperate. "Neither of us is bitten!"
It was a dumb thing to say that: they were infected. But Jack shouldn't be the one to take the fall with her, all because she decided to follow Siv to the airdrop.
"Move to the wall. Now!"
Siv jumped with gritted teeth, almost ready to do as she was told.
"Let's not be hasty," Jack finally stepped in, her tone calm but firm. She stepped forward, deliberately placing herself between the men and Siv. "Honest mistake we didn't know these were yours."
Guns snapped at the grinning brunette's direction. "Hey! I'm warning you."
"Thanks for the warning. But pulling that trigger's going to bring the horde down on all four of us," Jack said, making her point clear. She watched the soldier's eyes flick between her and his gun.
One shot, and the parking lot would be swarmed.
Another step forward. What is Jack thinking, Siv thought with growing fear.
Trying to reason with men like them was impossible.
"Are you deaf?" The aggressive soldier trotted closer. "Put your hands up and move!"
Jack didn't flinch.
"We can be reasonable people. Pretend we were never here."
Enough of her stalling! He pressed his rifle into Jack's chest, his finger ready to squeeze the trigger. "Stop talking! Or I'll shoot!"
Jack shrugged her shoulders.
"Alright." He asked for it.
She raised up her hands and behind the gas masks, the two grunts' eyes widened at the sight in Jack's righty. The one soldier in front of her instinctively backed a good five-foot jump away.
After all, she still had the lovely grenade in her hand.
"Look at that. Got my finger stuck on the pin."
Jack's little pinky had ' slipped' through the little ring, giving a provocative twitch at the men. For anyone, that was the most horrifying thing she could have done. Even Siv stared at her with sweating palms— she had a grenade in her hand!
But what made the terror spiked much more was the woman holding a bomb was absolutely calm. Cool-headed.
It was terrifying.
"Now, ten hut. If you don't want all of us blown to kingdom come, you're going to drop your weapons and stand back...about fifteen feet."
"What are you doing?!" Siv whispered.
Jack gave a short wave with her free hand—telling Siv it was going to be all right. "My friend and I are gonna go through the back. And you're going to stay and give us a ten-minute running start."
The hot-headed soldier lifted his gun-
"Nah-ah!" Jack wagged her finger, like a teacher scolding a disobedient student. "You sure you wanna do that? My finger could slip if you shoot me."
"You're bluffing," he scoffed. "You got a kid with you."
"Don't use me as a shield, you bastard!" Siv yelled.
Jack merely smirked. With a casual shrug, she reached out for the pin. "Alright. If you want to play that game-"
"No! NO! Wait!"
"STOP! STOP!"
Jack slowly lowered her hand from the pin, but the grenade remained raised, a clear threat.
Oh my god, Siv thought. No way was Jack actually going to take them with her, right? She swallowed hard, holding her breath, but stood frozen in place. Whatever plan she had, it was the only chance they had to survive. She had to rely on the crazy woman if they wanted to live.
Because Jack's detached, confident demeanor told Siv this wasn't her first time pulling something like this off.
"Now. Would you gentlemen be so kind and grant a lady's wish? We don't have all day."
"...Fine. Fine." The two soldiers grudgingly dropped their guns.
"Backups too."
They grimaced. With no choice, they reluctantly drew their handguns from their holsters and kicked them aside.
"Now back away slowly. Eyes front."
Siv wasn't sure if Jack meant it for them or the soldiers, but once the grunts had taken three steps back, Jack took two. So carefully, Siv followed suit. She couldn't believe this was happening—this insane plan was actually working. They might get out of this alive!
The young Runner did not notice the tough guy slip a hand behind his back, fingers grazing the hilt of a hidden knife, his eyes fixed on her. One quick swing, and-
Not giving you the chance! Jack thought.
"Move!"
Wait, why? Siv wondered.
Shiink!
Out went the pin. Jack tossed the live hot potato in one hard throw as she sprinted away, grabbing the stunned Siv by the shoulders.
"Get down!" the man on the right hollered.
BOOM!
Rubble exploded around them, throwing debris into the air. A sharp, ear-splitting ringing filled Siv's ears.
Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god.
Jack really threw a live grenade!
Siv barely registered anything after that—her body moving on autopilot, her mind reeling. She didn't notice a portion of the upper road collapsing outside the carpark or her body moving on its own. No, it was Jack taking her away to safety.
Eventually, the ringing stopped and her vision cleared. The two men didn't follow after them.
Then came the screams.
"Shit! They're coming!"
"What are you waiting for?! Shoot! Shoot!"
"Run!" she heard Jack order, forcing her onto her feet.
"You don't have to tell me twice!"
The two women bolted, Siv leading the way with Jack right behind. The ex-kickboxer drowned out the GRE soldiers' panicked wails and the firing going off.
Better them being ravaged than her and the kid.
The sound of the infected swarming through the parking lot, splashing through the tilted fences and over past panic-stricken vehicles. It was a race to get to high ground before the two women could be pulled in by the sea of the undead.
"Shit! Shit! Shit! Uh, uh - this way!" Siv shouted.
She dashed toward a smaller warehouse two streets away. Siv scrambled up a car, over a crashed truck, and climbed a drainpipe. The brunette followed the same path, both of them hopping onto the balcony and out of the reach of the undead.
"Whoa!" A hiss to Siv's right made her sidestep just in time. A Viral stumbled out the door, its blood-red eyes locked onto her-
"Get away from her!" Jack went into thug mode. She shoved her shoulder into the zombie, sending it tumbling down a metal stairway. "Go! Lead!"
Siv took towards the roof again, headstrong on leading! She was the only guide right now for Jack, knowing the streets far better than her. But when they reached the rooftop's edge, there was no way forward—just a drop into the gathering horde below.
The young runner fished out her rope ascender and quickly snapped it on their only saving grace of escape—a zipline. "Jump!"
They were off the roof in a leap of fate. Jack quickly lassoed her arms around the young girl's body as Siv's ascender swooshed up the line—the line shaking violently from their combined weight. The shrieking of metal biting metal got louder and louder.
"Hang on!"
"What do you think I'm doing?!" Jack yelled.
"HANG ON!" again, Siv hollered. This time, for the impact.
"SHIT!"
KA-CRASH!
Color-stained glass shattered like rain, spilling across the red-carpeted floor. They have made an undesirable entrance into a small Armenian chapel—one of the few oldest buildings still standing in the big city, free of walkers.
Someone up in Heaven was looking out for them on a day that would have been their last.
For a brief moment, all was still. The girls, bruised from the fall, lay sprawled in the quiet chapel. Exhaustion from their escape and elation for being alive weighed heavily on them.
"I so need one of those zipline thingies…" Jack groaned on the floor.
Siv, half-standing with a hand on her knee, shot her a look. "Are you insane?!" she panted, still catching her breath. "You could've gotten us killed!"
Jack drew circles in the air with a finger, still recovering from her exhaustion. "Never a dull day when you're with me. Hahah... I was right."
"About what? That they wouldn't shoot us?!" Siv snapped, her frustration still running high.
That you're a brave, ballsy lass. Ha-ha. You could have run away back there."
"Like I had a choice! You had a fucking grenade!"
Jack shrugged. "But you stayed with me." Again, she chuckled. "The Ravens could use more people like you."
"Really?" Siv uttered with a hint of surprise and excitement. Then with a shake of the head and a swallowed-up breath, she climbed up on her feet. "Hey. I'm not gonna forgive you for that stunt earlier!"
The brunette pushed herself up with a groan. "That's...my job. Can't let them go after good people like you, Siv."
Her tone was surprisingly sincere, and for a moment, the tension between them lifted. It was strange—after everything, the young runner couldn't stay mad at her.
Siv couldn't help but chuckle. She had to progress:
So Siv couldn't help but chuckle loudly. She still needed to progress everything: she had been put at gunpoint, nearly eaten by freaks and was next to a madwoman holding a grenade as her bargaining chip. She should have been yelling at this cuckoo for putting her life on the line.
And somehow, out of this wacky, panic-stricken, fruitless trip, it looked like Jack's personality had finally won her over.
"You have one sick sense of humor, you know that?" She reached for Jack's hand and hosted the brunette up on her feet. "Hahaha...heh…"
But there was an odd, uneasy edge to her laughter that trailed off for some strange reason.
Jack turned around. "Well, that's what everyone keeps telling-"
Her wide grin faded in an instant, her heart dropped like a stone and color drained from her face just like Siv's did.
"-me."
Again, they weren't alone. A survivor could never be alone in the middle of an outbreak.
Men were predictable in their fights. The less experienced in the basics, the more arrogant one would be, the better. And against a professional, the outcome would always be the same for Jack. Years of experience had made her a master at reading subtle reactions—whether physical or verbal—and flipping the situation around for herself.
Whether through fists or words, she always knew how to turn the tables.
An infected was a different story.
The sound of breathing—low, strained, and predatory—a predator made its stand on top of a pedestal before two nicely prepared meals.
You can never reason with a zombie. The mind was gone, reduced to raw instinct. They attacked on impulse, sometimes spinning in unpredictable directions. Since the outbreak started, Jack had enough close calls to know that she couldn't fight them like any previous opponent.
And now, her entire body tensed, going into defense mode. She recognized the rags.
The head covering, the torn jacket and those animalistic golden eyes. The Hunter that chased Jack through the Industrial District had somehow snuck into their sanctuary during their blissful moment of respite.
Jack had only one thought in her mind. And she absentmindedly mumbled it out.
"Hello again, mate."
Siv was frozen with fear.
She had felt terror before, though never like this. The first was when she was six. Her father left. No note, no explanation, just vanished like a wisp of smoke. It was only her and her mother after that.
Her mother, however, never faltered the day he was gone. Her mother, who had never once lost her composure in the most hopeless cases at the hospital, never cried. She gave a weak smile and held her daughter tightly and warmly, telling her it would be alright.
A six-year-old balled out her eyes that night.
That had been the case for more than a decade. Just the two of them together.
The second time was standing on the edge of the highway in the Slums, seeing the people below her as tiny as ants. She was petrified, but her senior told her she would be fine; he was right next to her if she slipped. A guy with that kind of schmuck attitude; first laughing at her being scared before giving words of encouragement and showing her the ropes.
That was her first real taste of thrill.
The third came rushing, all too quick and too sudden. Over the first week of the Scanderoon outbreak, the whole world around her crashed. Her relatives wound up sick and dead. Her mother was still in Harran. Her neighborhood friends scrambled with her in order to survive; some perishing behind her as she ran.
Since the fall of Scanderoon, a lot of things have terrified her. She had seen men kill men, infected kill men and the other way around. Through it all, she learned one hard truth: nobody could survive alone, but trusting anyone was just as dangerous.
Then into the second week, Mahir and his men came across her and her friends fleeing from prison hooligans. They brought them to the Junction. They were safe, at least.
But that safety wasn't for free—everyone in the Junction had to pull their weight. Mahir and many other adults had given her that same calm but condescending talk: she was deadweight if she didn't help. It wasn't meant to mock her, but she hated the "you're just a kid" attitude.
So she showed them, all the adults. By rallying up the quickest on their feet and making the Runner teams for the Junction. Whenever the Junction needed something, she and the runners took on the hardest tasks. Within three months, the fear she felt turned into a routine.
Then the world punished her back for it. She got bitten during a run last week.
That should have been the end of her short life. It took a lot longer for the grim reality to sit on her—once bitten, a person was on their way to being turned or being killed before they could turn.
They gave her Antizin and told her she'd be fine, but she was sidelined. Stuck indoors for a week while Doc monitored her recovery, she nearly lost her mind. No runs. No risks.
Just waiting.
She nearly went mad indoors.
Suddenly, the newcomer came. Dropped into the Junction out of nowhere. She never admitted it to Jack but Mahir didn't pick Siv for the airdrop retrieval. For the obvious reason.
But she couldn't let the chance slip.
She couldn't sit still, even if she was infected. She had to do something. Anything. A simple assignment to get supplies down the streets should have been an easy job! And the granny was her answer.
Siv never imagined that it would spiral out of control. The container was a lost cause; GRE soldiers nearly gunned them down; and now, she and Jack were against a zombie she had never seen before.
She had heard the stories from the Trappers. That there was something more dangerous than the Volatiles out in the Bayside at night…
Sive thought it was just them being jerks. Like always.
But this…Hunter…was with them. In broad daylight.
"Siv," she heard Jack whisper softly. "I want you to stay...absolutely still. Ok?"
Siv nodded, trembling, her eyes darting without turning her head. The woman in red slowly ambled step by step, towards Siv and then in front of her. Jack was dead set on using her own body as her shield—something Siv wished she didn't but her mind was too blank to protest.
They had to think of something, anything, to escape without this Hunter tailing after them.
No, they wouldn't have a chance. That thing could catch either of them before they even turned to bolt.
During her path to protect Siv, Jack quietly picked up a piece of wood from the floor. Stepping forward, she waved it in a slow, drifting manner—the enticing movement when a dog was being shown a bone.
"Hey there, big... ugly fella," she mumbled to the infected—as if it would have any level of intelligence to understand her. "You're hungry, right? You want something with more meat? How about me instead."
The distraction worked. The Hunter clicked his tongue aggressively at the ex-kickboxer with haunting golden eyes. A claw forward, then the next one towards her. All on her and not on Siv.
"Back away. Slowly," Jack ordered Siv without looking back. "Run back to the Junction."
"What?!" Siv muttered, nearly breaking into a shout. The grenade was one thing but a Hunter?! "I can't leave you!"
"This isn't up for debate."
"B-But…" Siv had so many things to say. Jack was insane. Jack was risking her life over a stupid person like her and she wasn't against normal cannibalistic monsters or gun-crazed maniacs.
Maybe, maybe, she could find a UV light, firecrackers, something-!
"It's ok."
At that moment, Siv's terror eased, just a faction. Jack's words carried out an ocean of confidence. She had complete concentration on the one dangerous thing in the room—something people couldn't beat. This serene certainty mirrored the same determination Jack had shown against the GRE thugs. She made her plans on the go, calculating and methodical.
"I'll be fine."
She didn't say she'd be right behind Siv. Or that she would follow her once she would knock the monster's lights out. But Siv could tell this wasn't the first time she took care of problems.
The granny had better come back alive or Siv would never forgive her. Slowly, she took a step and another back.
"Snarrk!"
"Ah, ah, ah!"
Jack shook the 2x4 plank just as the Hunter switched back targets. That sudden jolt of the golden eyes nearly made Siv yelp with fright but she tried to creep away as quietly as a mouse. Less movement and noise out of her as possible while Jack kept all the attention on herself.
"Don't you go changing your mind. We haven't even started yet."
Siv gave a quick glimpse to see how far she was from an open window. She needed to get back to the Junction, gather help, and-
Clink!
Siv froze at the sound of something beneath her feet. Broken glass.
"Ragrh! "
The Hunter immediately snapped its gaze to her.
Oh no.
She couldn't move. Couldn't scream. She was all too paralyzed to do anything. She couldn't even meekly plead for help.
The Hunter lunged.
"SIV!"
It all happened in a blur.
As the Hunter pounced with teeth and claws drawn out, Jack sprang forward and lassoed her arms around the beast's neck. With Jack's sudden momentum added, both went flying far off left and through the weak part of a railing.
CRASH!
"Jack!"
Human and monster hit the ground floor hard, right in the middle of the nave. The wind had completely knocked out of Jack but her mind was screaming for her to get up. Quickly! She couldn't afford to stay down.
"Get up!"
Oh, wait. Was that Siv shouting?
"I'm up! I'm up!" Jack bolted herself to her feet. But the Hunter was also climbing back up, furious.
Oh, how she wished she had a UV light right about now!
"Jack!"
"Get out of here!" Jack hollered, eyes on the deadly prize.
"But-"
"NOW!" The ex-kickboxer battered up her weapon.
"I-I'll get help!"
The stomping of Siv's footsteps faded off into the distance.
"That's all right. I'll be done with this freak before then," Jack chided maddeningly.
"Rraaagh!" With a starting stalk, the Hunter jumped at her but Jack was quick on her feet, dodging back. She took one good swing down.
Thrack!
Splinters flew as the wood piece broke in two. That whack did absolutely nothing to the bloody freakazoid—it was like its back was made of steel.
She glanced at her broken weapon with disappointment.
"Ah, shit."
She turned. And saw a claw grabbing for her collar.
"Whoa! Ommph!" Jack felt the floor fast and hard, spinning a full five feet before she could get her bearings. She took too many seconds to stand back up but she definitely knew one thing.
Judo. That was a blooming throwdown technique. By a mindless, man-eating freak.
"O-Ok. So you're not an average Joe."
Another roar and the Hunter lunged. Jack braced for the impact, arms raised as a shield. But instead of slamming into her and before her very eyes, thin tendrils wrapped around her.
She wasn't against any normal Special infected.
"Gah!" She hit the ground again, the creature on top.
For a brief moment, she was stunned, unable to comprehend that new whatever-this-biology-thing was—couldn't register how and where they came from.
With a desperate push, she stuck out her foot up and prompted the beast back. Her hands, her one last-resort weapon, held the snapping teeth back while the monster searched for her neck.
"I'm not into this kind of shit - GAARH!"
Teeth sunk deep into her left forearm. OH GOD! THIS THING WAS EATING HER ALIVE!
However, her right arm was free.
One punch! Two punch! The Hunter's jaws clamped onto her arm tight!
"Get...off...ME!"
Three punch! And it stumbled off—not without bits of flesh stripped off.
Jack staggered back onto her feet, clutching her bleeding arm. The pain was blinding but she couldn't flounder, forcing every muscle in her to fight the pain and bandaging the wound mid-fight, eyes on her opponent.
If this thing managed to sink its claws into her throat next time, she was done for.
No Viral or Biter or any Special had she ever seen the tricks this Day Hunter had. Meaning she couldn't use the same tactics as before if she wanted to get out alive.
It became clearer to her the longer she observed. Instead of a frantic, mindless attack like any other infected, it moved with calculating purpose, watching her every move, adapting. It didn't waste its energy like Biters or Virals—it knew how to fight.
And she was the one who suggested to Bones this would make a good specimen! Came to bite her back!
But she couldn't deny that the Hunter was clever. The ideal candidate the Ravens needed.
Then there came a cough.
A choking sound erupted from the Hunter's throat. Gagging. Before Jack's eyes, t The beast gripped its chest, having a hard time breathing. Frantically, it spat out something nasty.
Jack grinned.
HA!
Her secret weapon was kicking in.
"Good. Drop dead, you bleeding mongrel-"
"SRRAAAARHHH!"
Another holler out of the thing. The Hunter fought against the sickness in one powerful go. Something else drove the infected to keep on fighting and its golden eyes locked back on her again. Now twice as ferocious as ever!
"What-?!"
"Raaaargh!"
There was no warning for her, despite her desperate yells of "No! No! No!". The infected vaulted with the tendrils out again. Hands together like a prayer, Jack shielded herself with no choice but to be tackled down. They particularly rolled across the floor, either side fighting for the upper hand.
Jack's only main concern was protecting her vitals, pushing with every ounce of strength to keep the snapping chompers. But even as a professional kickboxer, the Hunter overpowered her with sheer, inhuman strength. Its tendrils tightened, restricting any chance to fight back.
"Fine!" In a moment of sheer instinct, she did the unthinkable. "FINE!"
She grabbed a tendril and bit down .
Chomp!
"GAARRH!"
She sank her teeth into the slimy, weird tentacle. Hard. Something vile and iron-tasting seeped onto her tastebuds but she held on like a Pitbull.
If anything, Beastly deserved it for trying to eat her!
The most insane thing she had done in the past, she did it to a monster and it actually worked. The Hunter wailed in agony. It tried to shake her off, the sprigs loosening around her and in one swoop, it hurled her over its shoulder.
CRA-KAK!
Her back hit an icon of a mother and child with incredible impact and half her body dropped over the altar. Decorations and candle holders tumbled to the floor.
Quivering, the Hunter growled, nursing its wounded tendril as it slipped back into its open-slitted claw. The woman in red nearly bit it right off!
And there was the burning sensitivity through the arm—as if the bone had been replaced with a hot iron bar. Angrily, primitively, it glimpsed back at its target, waiting for her to rise again. Making sure she would stay put for good.
Seconds ticked by and there was a moment of triumph. Good. Good! she wasn't getting back up. That had to have killed the witch-
"Heh...heh-heh..."
It was a slow, mocking chuckle. One arm languidly pushed the supposedly dead human's body off the altar. Beneath the grey-checkered scarf, a wide, toothy grin spread across her face.
"Ahahaha..."
Her vision swam as she rose to her feet, pain in her body but fire in her eyes. Jack spat out the vile taste with a loud, defiant "Ptooey!"
Then out came the explosion.
"AHAHAHA!"
It had been too long since she'd felt this rush, this wildness clawing its way out of her. The metaphorical chains came loose, regardless of whether she tried to have restraint. There was no need to keep the mania in because of 'proper manners' .
This Hunter didn't want to step down?! Well, now it was going to witness the spirit in her lunge out. The stray hound inside was hungry for payback.
She mounted off the altar. Her shades had been knocked off, hanging around her neck to reveal maddening hazel eyes. Jack wore the widest grin like the Big Bad Wolf, flexing her fingers in and out.
A crazed woman was on the loose, out of her mind.
She didn't care. Let her wolf this feeling all up! Mad Jack had to live up to her legendary name one more time. Let her throw caution to the wind. This outbreak had given her one thing—it gave her the freedom she had been secretly yearning for since her retirement.
All rules out the window!
"Alright, mate! You want to fight me?!" her voice rang through the chapel, her fists up and railing to go. "You'll get Mad Jack! "
The berserk fighting spirit was ready to sink its teeth in.
There was no fear in the woman—no panic, no hesitation. The change was so startling that even the Hunter flinched. Of course, a prey backed into a corner would turn around, ready with fangs.
But that little hesitation only fueled its rage—it wanted her dead. Now. The beast recoiled with a deafening roar to put the prey in its place.
Good. That was what Jack liked!
"Don't hold back!"
The Hunter loomed left and then right. Trying to trick her at the last second, to find the perfect moment to strike. It lashed out with claws extended, but Jack ducked to the right.
Another slash of the claw but she ducked under the attack.
An opening to the ribs!
She hooked hard, sending the thing into a short floundering. She fired again! And again! Each building up with more ferocity until the fifth one forced the Hunter to steady itself against the side of a pew.
The taste of life and death was strong and intoxicating! It gave her thrills!
"Ahahahaha!" Jack laughed. "Oooh! It's been so long!"
She was back in the ring—3rd stage Mad Jack's rabid style! Only the worst kind of scum gets it, with silver culinary and the good china. Inside the chapel, the Hunter was the main guest at the table, getting all of the glory with each punch!
And the Hunter felt every blow. For some powerful Special, it couldn't keep up with her frenzy, enough to make it fall to its knees.
She spun out a kick, her boot connecting squarely with its chin in a perfect roundhouse.
A miss.
Damn mongrel dodged like a pro athlete!
Nevertheless, she knew this fight would only have one outcome: her dead on the floor. Freakazoid had some level of awareness but even she couldn't play with fire for long.
Adult male, maybe 6 feet 2, around 200 pounds of muscle mass, mutated athletic physique.
Adding the fact it once knew Judo, running on fragmented muscle memory for the hunt.
It was a terrifying foe. Compared to her, with a petite body, and only fists, anyone could see this as a one-sided battle.
But Jack wasn't afraid. In fact, the Wild Dog was out and riling to bite—a ravenous stray playing with its food.
The Hunter tried again, surging forward with swinging claws. But Jack's body moved on instinct.
Three fast jabs, then another swing and a kick, the infected staggered back to the other end of her imaginative boxing ring.
That meticulous patience it had was burning out. Now she saw more of the ferocious side spewing out. Good and bad. Even with the unpredictability, this thing would make the mistakes she was betting on.
And it'd better before she'd lose out on stamina.
She fired the next punch.
And suddenly, that fist was slapped away.
Another marvelous thing out of the freak, surprising Jack! It was on the defensive! It had blocked her punch, one claw swiping her strike aside while the other on the back of her. But instead of sinking talons into Jack's side, the monster redirected her momentum forward.
Throwing her a good few feet away.
"Ugh!" Jack hit the ground hard, rolling back to her feet with a quick shake of her head.
As she steadied herself, the Hunter wasted no time, circling like a predator readying an attack from behind.
Clever beast!
"Two can play that game!"
It slashed forward. Jack raised a palm up and deflected the strike over her shoulder. She could sneak a straight hit to the gut but with how big-sized her opponent was, she sneaked her foot at its heel. Tripped the Hunter forward, seeing it tumble down on a knee.
It may have some fragile knowledge of Japanese martial arts but Jack knew her own basics in shadowboxing .
With a guttural hiss, the creature sank to its knees, muscles tensing as it readied to pounce—
Now or never!
This time, she let the beast make contact. But blocking with her shoulder as she dropped backward. There was enough force from his shove to nearly take her off her feet.
But Jack sprang into action, right on its back.
Latched her arms around the neck and roped her legs around its bulky waist. The jagged spines of its grotesque form dug painfully into her stomach, like lying on rocks.
The unusual change in momentum brought the Hunter to the floorboards as she worked her magic on it, tightening her lock on its esophagus. An infected locked in a guillotine choke.
She knew it wasn't going to work. Could zombies even breathe?
One way, it'd go down out of breath or it'd get itself free. Jack could feel its body lower down, gasping—
"Tracker!" she muttered to herself.
The worst time to take one arm off the jugular and reach into her gear for the tracking device but this was a chance of a lifetime!
A battle could be won, lost or forfeited. If Freakazoid decided to run away, then at least she had a backup plan ready.
"Whoa!"
Certainly, the Hunter zoomed back up and tried to shake her off. Jack had no choice but to hold on. She was in it for the ride with a raging bull!
"C'mon! C'mon!" Sodding hell, this infected wasn't going to make it easy on her! "Stop moving!"
Again, she bit down on its shoulder.
"GARRRGH!"
The monster shrieked, its movements faltering for just a moment. That was all Jack needed. Quickly, she slapped the tracker onto its tattered jacket. There! It was on-
A tendril whipped around her arm without warning.
"Whoa!"
Skrrrrik!
With terrifying strength, the Hunter hurled her across the chapel floor like a ragdoll. Her back slammed into a cluster of old, damp benches, the decaying wood creaking under the impact.
Jack groaned, shaking her head to clear the daze as she wobbled to her feet. Pain rippled through her body, but nothing could pierce the red haze of her fury.
"That was nothing!" she bellowed maniacally.
The Hunter tried to bark irritably, but it staggered back with a claw on its wounded trapezius. Its movement, slower and feverish.
Another chance! Jack charged back into the ring with a hard right jab! Left! Right! Left! Each strike was faster and harder than the last, driving the creature back step by step.
The Hunter raised its arms defensively, claws splayed like a riot shield, absorbing the relentless blows. But Jack didn't let up.
She was unstoppable.
POW!
The Hunter's head yo-yoed to the side, recoiling from the impact of her third punch. The ragged cloth covering its face fluttered away, revealing its gorgeously grotesque visage in full.
Its mutation was in its early stages, but it was still grotesque as ever. Darkened, mottled skin split along its shoulders, back and head, as if a second monster was clawing its way out of its host. Bone-like protrusions and pulsating veins writhed and pushed out of its skin like that of a Volatile.
One small bone jutted out on its skull, above the left eye, giving its a one-horned look about it.
Freakazoid verbally snarled at her for daring to unveil him—the king wouldn't be trifled with!
The notable features of the previous owner were still there, a man caught mid-transformation into his own 'Mr. Hyde.' But that human was long gone. At this stage of infection, nobody ever came back.
So this was what a Hunter looked like.
"You're one ugly bugger, all right!" she sang, dancing on her toes.
"Raaaargh!" The monster wailed back at her insult. Enough to make grown men collapse in terror.
Yes, she agreed. This fight had gone on long enough.
Freakazoid charged, swinging his right arm forward. Jack readied another fist.
At the corner of her eye, she spotted a tendril flicker by.
Wait, no.
It roped around a pillar behind her.
What-?
It happened too fast. All of a sudden, she could see the golden eyes right in front of her, a wail so loud her eyes went ringing. With a violent snap of its tendrils, it gained momentum and launched itself toward her, arms crossing like a battering ram.
"Argh!"
A full-blown takedown from a freak of nature! She was thrown far down the aisle, despite a last-minute dodge at the leaping infected.
Now the Hunter was enraged. Fed up of playing with its prey. It landed with unnatural grace, immediately preparing for another dive for her neck. Jack didn't get a chance to catch her breath, already watching in horror at the tendrils now swarming onto her.
Jack acted on instinct, raising her arm to shield her neck just as the Hunter's jaws bit down on flesh. It towered over her, fixated on the jugular when its teeth unwillingly did not unlatch off her arm.
"Enough!" Her free hand quickly worked its way on what she felt was the belt. With all her power, she lifted the infected off its feet and bridged it over her shoulder. " Of eating my flesh!"
One Jackie suplex coming right out!
THUD!
She flung its body right into a confession booth, a poetic place for the mongrel.
But Jack was overspent: desperately trying to get her footing and fighting the growing fatigue while the bugger winced in pain and exhaustion.
Get up, Jackie! If Freakazoid got back up first-!
"Garh!"
The Hunter coughed and gagged, spitting something foul from its mouth.
"What? I'm not tasty enough for you?!" she mocked, ready for its next move.
But the suplex was the final straw. The terrifying special infected recoiled, shuffling back with an almost pitiful gait. Its once-feral aggression now seemed muted, like a frightened little toy dog, tail tucked between its legs after picking a fight with a dangerous wild dog.
OH! Now you're afraid!
"C'mon, Freakazoid! I'm not done with you yet!" she taunted. "I got all the time in the world to keep this up!"
Give it to her! She's never faced such an opponent quite like this before! Just give it! GIVE IT-!
" ...J… "
The sound scratched faintly at the back of her mind for a second time. Barely audible that she couldn't make out the word. The weirdest part was...it came from nowhere. Jack jumped, desperately looking around for the source.
Where? Where did that voice come from?
" ...Jade… "
The whisper came again, coherent.
From Freakazoid.
He said that word. At Jack. With a small glint of something in its inhuman, fatigued eyes.
Jack could see that glint in those golden eyes as clear as day. The color warped with a distinctive bluish haze—the first thought being that perhaps, the beast was close to death. But something wasn't right.
Her fighting spirit was doused by confusion, shock, and awe. Overwhelmed.
Jack had never read an emotion, any emotion, from an infected monster. But it was unmistakable in Freakazoid's eyes.
She saw sorrow.
She staggered a step back, eyes narrowing on the monster The Wild Dog was now aghast, stunned out of her mind and reeling from what she had just witnessed.
Wait, hold on now. Come back three—no, five, ten steps back! There were so many questions she had, or if it was all just her imagination from the intensity of the near-death fight.
But that name. Hearing that name.
That was the biggest shock of all.
"What did you say?" she demanded, voice trembling.
Why? Why did that thing say her name—?
"Gaargh!"
Suddenly, the Hunter cowered, crumbling into a ball. Jack froze, watching as it writhed and contorted, clutching its head like it was in agony.
Was it the side effect kicking in?
It was right there and then that Jack noticed the chapel had gotten dimmer, illuminating the infected's glowing orange veins.
Her fear took another step further as she locked her eyes on the bright rectangular shapes of sunlight moving on their own. Shrinking shorter and shorter around her. She realized it too late: a deep, instinctual dread twisted her insides.
On an inkling, Jack warily wheeled back to the broken windows.
The sun was setting.
"Oh, fuck," she cursed tiredly.
A low snarl pulled her focus back to the Hunter, growing louder, deeper, more menacing. Jack's fire was gone, snuffed out completely, leaving her in the cold grip of fear.
Terrified, she stepped back slowly, remembering Mahir's words like a death knell ringing in her mind.
"In broad daylight? That's not possible. They're deadlier than the Volatiles."
So Freakazoid here was going to be far worse than what she had faced?!
"R-Ruun!"
Now came out a distorted voice—a man's voice blending together with a monster's. There was a visible internal struggle she was seeing, like a fragment of a soul trapped inside, fighting for control.
No, everything about this zombie was all too new and horrifying to her.
What in the world was she dealing with?
She had to get away.
"Run!" It was a desperate cry. Like some small piece of humanity screaming with everything it had. It wanted her to run from it.
Then it wanted her dead.
"RUAAGH!"
That small piece of humanity went out like a light. Just as the sun went out.
"AaaaaAAAHHHHHHH!" Jack sprinted right out of the church's doors.
Behind her, the Hunter gave chase, hot on her heels.
The night was its most nightmarish. It was alive—stirring, seething, and full of rapacious Biters and Virals prowling for prey.
This was the time no sane survivor dared to be outside. The sun was gone for twelve relentless hours, and during that time, every human with sense knew to bunker down, wait out the night and block out the screams and the terrors. Anyone unfortunate enough to still be outside should prepare to serve themselves on a silver plate.
Jack was one such unfortunate survivor… Not like she had a choice!
She didn't recognize this part of the Bayside and hadn't kept track of the lower surroundings while she and Siv had been crossing the rooftops earlier. For all she knew, she could be running in circles—or worse, straight into more danger.
All she could do was keep running.
The wide streets were a death trap—she stuck to narrow, twisting lanes, hoping they'd slow her pursuer. Quick thinking helped her only a bit: pulling down trash cans and broken crates into the path behind her. Anything to throw off the Hunter.
But how much time could she keep buying?
She shot a glance over her shoulder.
The Hunter was gone.
Did he change his mind? Or did she lose him-
"GAARGH!"
The new screams told her she had jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.
Three new friends bounded out from the alleys behind her to join the marathon—friends she never asked for. Broad-shouldered freaks with exposed bone and muscle and the most noticeable mandible jaw ready to sink their teeth into her.
"Volatiles! Friggin' Volatiles!"
She couldn't fight them, couldn't outrun them for long. There was no way she could survive the night-
Beep!
"Jack! Do you read?! "
Perfect timing to be getting a call! But she couldn't have been happier to hear Siv's voice via her earpiece—if she wasn't being chased.
"Hi! Not now! Running for my life!" she responded.
"Jack," another voice cut in—Mahir's. "Do you see an overpass?"
An overpass? She could barely make anything in the dead of night, with only a few working street lamps and a couple of barrels with fire about.
Her gaze snapped the highway to her west. "Yes! YES! I see it!"
"There's a safehouse under it!"
"Hurry! "
Oh, magic words. Except for the three Volatiles snarling behind her and the growing swarm of Biters ahead. They all saw her now, arms flailing, teeth gnashing.
Jack vaulted onto the hood of a car, feeling the fingers behind her rack at her. She madly jumped on a couple of heads to cross over the sea of Biters and up over a tin roof. For a glimpse of safety above the horde, she spotted a lone, small construction site barred with wire and spikes all over the boundary.
Safehouse!
But her eyes bugged wide at one small problem: it was dark inside and out in its safe perimeter. The lights weren't on. Not even the UVs.
"Why are the lights off?!"
"What?!" Mahir hollered with the same tone of shock as hers. "Shit! Did it run out of gas?"
"You have your safehouse tied to a bloody fuel generator?!" Jack screamed.
"J-Just...look for the panel!"
She threw her hands up in frustration: nothing was ever easy!
Wasting no time, Jack vaulted onward and landed inside the fenced-off safehouse area. The deadly traps along the boundary bought her a few precious moments with the nearby walkers. But the wires and spikes weren't going to stop the Volatiles once they'd caught up.
To top it off, there were a handful of shamblers inside the unprotected safehouse.
Jack dodged around the small fry before ducking into the safehouse's doorway. Slammed it shut behind her and she pulled a metal locker down for reinforcement. Another three seconds more while she quickly searched through the darkness.
Please let it be simple, she pleaded that she didn't need to find the fuel generator! Or worse, like Mahir said, it could be out of gas!
Thud! Thud! THUD!
The door rattled violently.
"GAARGH!" "Kssssk!"
And now the Volatiles were at her door. Wonderful!
Her heart pounded as she patted her hands for the power box. Fingers gripped the edges of the panel, and with leftover tenacity and added jitters, she pulled.
Krrrr-KACK!
The metal lid came off, clattering to the ground.
BAM!
The precious seconds she'd bought ticked down; she didn't need to look back to know the door was giving way. One more bash by a Volatile and they would be in. But she stayed the course and flipped the switches. One, two, three!
The safehouse came alive. Fluorescent lights flickered on, flooding the interior, while the familiar blue glow of UV rays bathed the front perimeter.
"Gaaaugh!"
"Gaargh-aaaah!" Outside the door, she listened to two Volatiles shriek in pain with the awful smell of skin sizzling under the UV light.
She gagged involuntarily, but her ears stayed alert.
There were two sounds: something dropping down like a fly smacked to a zapper with a heavy thud and something running away. Whatever was left of the pack had fled.
All except for one unlucky bastard: its tortured snarls still audible somewhere in the perimeter, flailing in pain. Just like the others, it too ran out of the safehouse, even if that meant crawling away.
And then...silence.
Jack waited, listened. And finally, she knew she was safe.
"Holy hell." Jack sunk to the floor in exhaustion. "That was too close for comfort..."
She may be stubborn enough to fight against one Special Infected but she was no fool to take out a horde.
"Jack?"
"Y-Yeah," she replied over the comms. "I'm good... Talk about a run for your money. Ahaha."
"You're one lucky woman, you know that?" Mahir complimented.
"Guess I have my guardian angel on overtime," she shot back, though her shaky breath betrayed her nerves.
"Heh. Well, you did say you were a specialist."
"Give me that, Mahir! Jack?!" The young runner took over the call, her voice nearly peaking up the volume. "I'm sorry! I-I shouldn't have left you behind!"
"Siv." Jack climbed back onto her wobbly legs.
"You-You were right! We should've turned back! There wasn't even anything good in that airdrop-!"
"Siv!" That finally stopped the teenager's ramblings. "I'm fine. Just a little grazed, but I'm fine."
Total understatement of the year. If Siv could see her now, the obvious bite marks and bruises would make her shout, "You're a fucking liar, Jack!"
"…We came out with nothing and you nearly got yourself killed."
"Well, I wouldn't say it was for nothing…" Jack chided. Got herself one hell of a fight. "Don't put yourself in a bind over this."
The runner said nothing in response, the silence telling Jack Siv wasn't buying it and she was clearly chewing herself over what happened. The brunette was about to tell her she didn't hold it against her, but she knew enough that wasn't going to be enough to ease the girl's guilt.
So she said instead, "You all should get some sleep. I'll see you guys tomorrow."
"Tomorrow... You better come back alive," Siv demanded, a swing back to the usual hot-blooded attitude.
"We girls gotta stick together."
Jack heard a weak chuckle over the line, easily visualizing the girl's expression as 'Really? Already, this old bat was playing the bonding card with her after one day?'. But Siv didn't reject the idea vocally.
"And Siv?"
"Yeah?"
"We'll find more supplies. This granny still has a few good years left to keep up with you."
"Hah," Siv laughed, having the weight on her shoulders lifted. "I'll hold you to your word... Goodnight, Jack."
"...Yeah. Goodnight. And good luck," she said to nobody. Or maybe to the noisy infected outside. Maybe to herself.
She had enough excitement for one day. Too much on her mind, and she wanted to think about it tomorrow morning instead. Jack needed sleep.
Sliding off her shades, Jack settled onto the prepared sleeping bag in the corner. Relief on her aching bones.
She thought back on her 'luck'.
Luck was something she rarely relied on; skill, confidence and charisma had kept her alive for the longest time, not blind chance.
But fortune did favor the bold. How often did she get so close to running out in the epidemic? Yet the irony behind it? She was infected at the same time.
One day, her luck would fully run dry.
Twice in the past, she had stood dangerously close to the edge. So how much longer?
Days? Weeks? Months? And when that time came—when Lady Luck finally turned her back—there would be no stopping death.
Don't think about it, Jackie.
She closed her eyes, blocking out all the noises outside. They would shut up soon.
Twenty minutes later, it became a peaceful night.
Something's wrong!
It hurts!
Everything's burning!
Something inside the Day Hunter made it excruciating. It started in the arm, then from the second bite on the neck. And now it could feel the fieriness searing its insides. Changing it. Eating into its brain like a sickness. A poison!
What did that woman do?! What did she do to us?!
It couldn't stand it—the colors and shapes swimming around in its vision. Vertigo hit it just as hard as that woman's punches, and for once, the monster couldn't recover fast enough, like before. The sudden ailment came in the middle of chasing the fleeing woman, and it soon lost sight of her.
This has happened before. She had given him something that twisted his insides! It was happening all over again!
NO!
The Hunter hated this feeling. It was like something reminding him. Bringing those unwanted memories back—pulling the animal back into its cage.
Get out!
It clawed at its throat, its stomach. Trying to tear it out. When that didn't work, the freak of nature tried to gag out the horrible taste again. Just spit it out!
Nothing helped.
Stop it!
The voice was scared. It snapped loudly, lashed its claws at the air for a way out. No matter how hard it tried to fight it, the burning still dawdled and welcomed the fear in. There was no escape for the both of them.
Them?
Wait. Why the word, them?
Kill her! We need to kill her!
What?
Why?
He didn't understand.
She did something! She's hurting us!
It did hurt. Everything in him felt like hot needles through the muscles. But oddly, it didn't bother him.
No. It was more like he had been drowning this entire time that pain felt numbing to him.
"Alright, mate! You want to fight me?! You'll get Mad Jack!"
Fight?
Wasn't…he fighting for something?
Killherkillherkillherkillherkillher!
Kill that woman!
...No, that wasn't her. That brunette was human—a different person.
He recalled the whole scene from earlier. Watching the young girl with the cap suddenly take a dive off the fallen radio tower; watching the woman in red shout her name in horror, watching her bolt as fast as she could go and pull her friend back up.
It brought back a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time.
Empathy.
Worry for someone else's life. That immediate hope that they could make it. A growing yield to jump in and save them.
But something always held him back.
It all felt so familiar—like he had been in a similar situation before.
Balancing on top of a crane, someone shouting at him, worried for him.
Someone who wasn't here anymore.
But he was still here.
That proverbial grip loosened more during the fight with the lady; the Hunter had underestimated her, thought she'd be an easy kill. The lady went bat-shit ballistic. She became an animal all-out sinking her teeth into an infected. She was thirsty for the fight and thrilled to stay alive.
And she showed them.
The punches, the dodges, the stances. Even that parry—the confidence she had in deflecting an incoming Hunter off her with a move he recognized.
The wide grin she flashed brightly, cocky and sure that she would survive.
And the more he remembered the fight, the more he wanted that long-forgotten sensation.
To live again.
He wanted it so badly, more than ever. But the reason why he waited this long...was because he was so afraid to come back.
He couldn't remember why.
She'll kill us!
N-No. No. He wasn't back in the Countryside. That Volatile freak was dead.
It's her! The witch is back!
"Don't hold back!" the brunette wailed, with such powerful valor, it shook him to the core.
Hold back?
Had he been holding back this whole time?
Don't listen! Kill her before she kills us!
Shut up.
Be quiet and let me think for once!
It was nothing but noise grinding against the bone—memories flashing violently again. Some old he had forgotten, some new he had never seen before.
Whatever was happening did only aggravated the Day Hunter but also wrecked his brain around, a jumbled mess. There was no order. There had never been any order from the start of this prison.
The dominant voice in his head was growing more frantic, losing the mental struggle—by the thought that the woman in red had lived, by everything.
She was going to pay, the voice wailed at him. Make her regret ever facing them.
Tear her head off!
Just like before! At that dam!
Shut up!
She's human!
A living human being!
He didn't want to kill again!
So what?! The voice hollered ferociously at him. They have been together for far longer than he had wanted. The beast had emerged thanks to this gift. And since then, it had kept them alive, showing everyone who was on top. The king of the night! He was free thanks to their strength!
No more pain. No more guilt. No more pointless fighting for a pointless cause. No more deceiving others and himself! No more suffering!
All his complications gone by letting the other side take control. By accepting this raw power, this freedom! Life had become so much better.
Wha...what fucking life?
What freedom? He didn't feel free. He was still trapped!
He didn't want this. He had to get out. The longer he stayed, the more he'd forget everything he went through.
This was wrong.
It isn't wrong! It's right! So stop resisting and go kill her! She's more brainsick than before! She's the last obstacle left!
Stop it. Stop this splitting headache!
The flashes grew more vibrant in his head, more solid. Like a film going faster and faster. All the faces, all the people he had been fighting for.
They were still waiting for him.
No! It's not worth it! Now the voice was pleading. Pathetically. It was losing its grip on his consciousness. The damage's done! There's nothing to go back to!
The Tower... He had to go back.
"C'mon, Freakazoid! I'm not done with you yet!" the brunette taunted. "I got all the time in the world!"
Oh, you shut up, he grimaced. And who are you calling Freakazoid?
Stop! The voice was frantic, wailing, gripping at his feet to stop him from leaving. From taking away its control. Stop listening to her! There is no point in going back!
He didn't care. He had to try.
Everyone at the Tower had to be worried about him-
No one is! The voice hissed. Those weaklings? They won't accept you back. One look at him and they'd gun him down! Sentimentality was useless in their hunting grounds.
Stop talking! He was still the same man-
The same?! Stop denying it! You needed me to survive! Why else did he let the other side of him take over?
Because he was too chicken to face them, that was why!
Everyone was out to get him! Same went for that cultist witch! She's back for you again-
Shut up. Enough! He was reaching his breaking point.
No! It's not enough! We won't rest until she is dead! Kill her! KILL HER NOW!
KILL THE MOTHER!
A flash of that golden-sun-masked cult leader overlapped over the face of the woman in red.
Looking back at him with those haunting silver-blue eyes.
Something snapped inside his skull. The chains finally broke off.
"Just SHUT UP!"
With a violent swipe, his right claw grabbed the back of his head. In the presence of its weakness, the human self shoved the monster's head down on something hard with a single, forceful blow.
Thud!
Then it stopped.
Everything.
The voice. The visions. The burning sensation.
It all stopped.
He could think again. The voice that had dominated his mind for so long was gone just as easily as it had taken his psyche under the surface the first time around.
Then came the pain.
Horrible, excruciating pain from his temple.
"Gah... Ah." He reeled down, hands clutching his head while he endured the agony.
He had just smashed his head hard on the concrete beneath his feet and that was enough to silence the beast within. He asked for it, beating the internal fight.
But god...did it hurt.
So much.
No, no. It wasn't over yet. He didn't know why, but something told him that he was still in danger. Not from instinct but as though it was…routine. That he couldn't afford to let his guard down.
However, for some odd reason, the danger didn't seem to come after him immediately.
How long had he been out? He didn't even remember who he was.
But eventually, more of those faint memories rushed like a river freed out of a dam, eroding his blackout. He was someone. Not an it, a person.
He had a name.
That person on the other side of the crane, that memory, said his name.
Once the grogginess and the headache subsided, he sucked in a heavy breath. His brain was still reeling from the whole experience, but he understood one thing.
He was finally back.
Kyle Crane was partially back in control.
A/N: Whoo! Another good chapter revamped. This was originally part of the old Chp 3 and Chp 4. I did have a rule where I was keeping to a word count limit of 6k+ but decided to drop it. I do hope that the combination or adding more flesh into the chapters won't be too long-winded for you readers' taste - and if its an issue, do inform me and I'll change the length. This also does mean for the first arc, the original ten chapters may become eight or less. Or not.
Tried my best to keep the conversation nice and a bit warmhearted, as well as the action be intense. I actually had a lot of fun with this one. Action scenes are my favorite, with a bit of struggle to think from A to B for each move. It also shows a different kind of fighting preference Jack has compared to gameplay Crane. Saying in a game design perspective, Jack's more of the go for it kind of gal and a bit less agile than Crane. Even the power side of her skill tree in my head is different from his: a brawler's skills. Jack also has different kinds of skils specific to distraction in the Survival side. I can picture her as kind of the beserker class in a way like Sam D was from Dead Island.
Now that being said, it's a DUMB IDEA to just rely on bare fists in a zombie apocalypse, even without fist weapons. She isn't immortal against a horde. Anyone trying to do a run with just fists towards the end is like going Deprived in Dark Souls.
Anyhow, enough game design rambling from me. I hope you'll like this chapter. And yes. Crane's back. ;P
Old Chapter Three A/N: A big happy birthday shoutout to Akira Namikaze, from FFN. :)
19/10/19 - Update refined! Combined chp 3 into chp 2.
25/10/19 - Reedited for mistakes and errors.
13/8/20 - Reedited for mistakes and errors.
6/2/21 - Added new lines, fixed mistakes and edited parts according to new timestamp from pilot.
26/2/21 - Reedited for mistakes and added a small aesthetic change to Crane's design.
16/2/22 - Went over a full chapter edit with some fixes, retwists, deletes and adjustments. Changed the church's details.
15/3/23 - Edited several lines and made fixes, streamlined some dialogues for better structure.
18/3/22 - Rechanged fight scene with a few more moves from Freakazoid and edited some lines for mistakes and dialogue changes.
29/3/22 - Added a few new lines in the parking lot
1/1/24 - Final fixes and changes, I hope
25/12/24 - Reedted some parts to be more streamlined and removed some unwanted text. Retweaked a portion of Siv's background and refined the fight and Crane's awakening.