Chapter Summary
- CALM AFTER THE STORM
The Orphanage was hit badly, thanks to the storm. The children and Carl are the only ones alive. They're safe now. And Jack...she's as much a bleeding heart as I am even though she doesn't show it... I have to keep a close eye on her. - Kyle
EIGHTEEN: AT THE SEAMS
It had been quiet down the canal.
Ok, correction. Quiet between him and Jack: she drove, Freakazoid sat by. Nothing was said, not after what happened at the Orphanage. Sometimes, it was better not to say anything. Crane knew that from experience.
And yet, Jack didn't take the opportunity to stay silent, like always. Crane didn't stop her if work would take her mind off the recent event. Eventually, she went right to the comms. A means to kick up the mood, get the head in the game.
"Ender. You two alive?"
Bzzt! A sharp electrical sound hit the comms. "What? You think a little blackout would stop us?"
"We're fine, by the way," spoke out the second voice with an exaggerated tone.
"Got a delivery to make. Heading over to your last location now."
"...Mood's changed."
Jack jerked back from the response.
"Something happened?"
"Yes. We survived the worst situation imagined," she droned. "If this were the Outskirts, we'd be abandoning ship again."
"So not dire enough to report back to Asem but something to take note of," Ender pointed.
"There is nothing to report. Or take notes," Jack remarked with a hidden agenda in her cheer. Too focused to notice Freakazoid easily picking it up.
"Hey. It's not our fault you're acting shady," Riza exclaimed.
"Because I know you two will snitch on me at any sign."
"What? Nooo. Ravs are all about watching each other's back. Even yours."
"And I assure you, there's no need. I have a Lifeline-"
"Sure. A Lifeline. But we know how hard-headed you are with work."
"Excuse me, but I am not 'hard-headed'-"
"Yeah, right."
Crane didn't care if he received a tossing glare from the brunette.
"I dedicate my time and effort to the task given. All the way to the finish line," Jack continued, back to her bouncy tone. "And it paid off. I got a blood sample for Bones."
"You got one?"
"Partly fresh and needs to get to HQ as soon as possible."
"Damn. I lost to Tekin."
"Told you not to make that bet."
"Moving on," Jack exclaimed loudly, her patience partly waning. "I also need some intel. Maybe you've caught some rumors during your stay."
"That depends on what you're looking for."
"This doesn't have anything to do with what we've been hearing lately, right? Something about GRE looking for a woman in red?" Riza asked.
"Word gets around fast," Jack droned.
"What did you do? Hit a hornet's nest or something?"
"I...might have made a couple of people angry."
"A couple? You pissed off the GRE, a prison mob, and now both sides are after your head," Crane muttered.
"Oh, shush. We got out of there alive, didn't we?" she said, a hand cupping her earpiece.
"Who are you talking to?" Despite her best efforts, the two on the other line heard her. That little mistake drew Jack back to the conversation, much to Crane's relief.
"Oh, you know. Shy Guy," she swiftly answered, the tone not breaking. "They must be recovering from the blackout just like everyone else. Just a little bit more uptight. Stay clear from them."
"We should be saying that to you, Jack," Riza exclaimed with concern.
"I'll handle them. Now. Intel?"
"Sure…" Ender answered. "But the price's a bit higher this time."
"If you're gonna make it harder for the both of us, then we need more compensation for it."
Jack groaned lightly. She saw it coming. "Alright. What is it? Rations? Special parts? Cash-"
"We wanna meet Shy Guy. In person."
Jack's head jolted at the proposal, eyebrows raised. Even Crane expressed a more agitated glance.
"Ha-hah," the brunette said, breaking the silence. "...Yeah. I don't think that's possible-"
"Why?" Ender persuaded. "Bones said he's a member now. So he's gotta go through the proper inspection."
"Oh, we don't need to do that. Asem already gave the ok."
"C'mon, Jack. Everyone's talking about your 'imaginative zombie friend'." Jack could picture the young female runner holding out air quotes on the other line. "So they're asking us to see it for ourselves."
Oh, frigging hell. Crane had almost forgotten about Jack openly telling her group about him, a talking freak of nature. He had deeply hoped that most wouldn't buy her little tale or, better yet, see her as a madwoman. But all he could do was silently fret in his seat.
"Basically, this inspection is for me," Jack bluntly exclaimed.
"What? No. We know you're as sharp as always."
"We just wanna be sure. You'd never lie to us."
"And if it is true, then we gotta talk business with your partner." There was a little tint of interest in the words, a bit too gleeful for Crane's taste. What kind of business did they have for him…
"That's rather accepting coming from you lot."
"Honestly, it's actually exciting," Riza admitted.
"We're at a factory near the Junction. Good place where nobody can see him."
"See you two there."
Jack wasn't quick enough to make a convincing statement; the other end already fell flat before she could turn the conversation around. She then felt the bitterness daggering at her. It tempted her to look up from the wheel.
Freakazoid absolutely detested the idea.
"I'm not going."
He hated himself for going.
Did he have an urge to follow through to the end? Was he that contradictory to himself? It certainly felt like it!
On the spot, though, Crane set out the ground rules before they made their way to their arrival: that she would keep her two buddies away from him, thirty feet at minimum, and he would walk away if they would ever catch a glimpse of him.
High demand, she said to him. Then jested, she would try.
Not good enough, but Crane didn't rebuke.
There was one good thing out of all this: the meetup point was next door to the silicone factory, the vantage point he had watched from. Where it all started. So, of course, he took to that perch and watched Jack vault into a storage building in the nearby yard.
"Yo, Jack."
Inside, judging from the two orange skeletons he watched, seemed safer than outside. For three people to meet up together surrounded by zombies.
Wait. Where was the other guy?
The short female named Riza skidded herself off what could have been a workbench.
"Where's your partner?" she asked.
"He's around. Lookout duty," Jack tried to sell it.
Like a disconcerted child, the young college Grad pouted. "Couldn't you have dragged him over here?"
"Sure. Drag him. You do know this is a Day Hunter. Not a human."
"Never seen one, so I wouldn't know. He hasn't tried to kill you, right?"
"Well...almost. Twice." She stayed quiet about that question and moved on with another. "Why the sudden interest? You two are among the most tentative people when it comes to these sorts of things… Next to Talo."
"That doesn't mean we can't take a little risk," Riza boasted. The mindset of a crafty business student with a silver tongue. "And if he's a figment of your imagination, nothing's lost."
"Except you lot thinking I've gone insane," Jack gruffed in a disapproving tone.
"C'mon, Jack. Don't put words in our mouths. We're not against you."
"Would never dream of it. The new guy's sensitive about showing his face to strangers."
"What? He's vain?" the young Grad murmured with bewilderment. Almost like a scoff.
"When you have a face a mother couldn't love anymore, then yes." That seemed to inflict a tap of fear into her ally, enough to make her shoulders hunch and a frown wrinkle. "Believe me when I say this. The experience would scar you for life if you saw him."
Riza cocked up a worried but stern gaze. "And that happened to you?"
"Well… Not exactly."
"Then what's the problem? He's your client, isn't he? So tell him this is a normal business meetup."
"Normal. My line of work is very much different from yours. We're not talking numbers or supply lines."
"Oh, please. You help people. So do we. How different is that?"
"I mean...when you put it that way-"
"Good. We see eye to eye. So how 'bout it?"
A sigh and a shake of her head was all Jack gave. "He's not going to come."
"Hm," Riza hummed loudly. It looked like she was accepting the fact that it would be a no-go.
Crane actually thought the young trader had given up. He could relax. He even leaned back in his perch with a sigh of relief.
Then he heard her holler catching through Jack's earpiece, "Hey, Ender. Do you see him?"
"Yeah. Brooding like a gargoyle up here. Almost like Asem."
Crane's eyes flashed wide.
The voice was almost right on top of him. From where; he couldn't pinpoint the location but it was enough for him to be alerted. Someone was on the same floor as he was. In the silicone factory!
When did that happen? When he wasn't looking?! Crane ducked deeper into the casting shades of his environment and searched for the voice.
"Ender. Where are you?" Jack's voice clicked through the comms.
"Nearby."
Where exactly?!
"You weren't joking," his intruder talked. "Never seen anyone be this bashful around people."
That was because he didn't want anyone seeing him like this!
"Is he really what Jack said?" asked the other Rav member, Riza.
"I can't tell from this angle. He keeps moving like a chicken."
"So she has been pulling our legs."
"I am right here."
"Nah. He's no survivor."
That's it, Crane thought. He was going to jump out of this building. Didn't matter if the blistering sun would be a pain-
"Hey. Jack's partner!" Riza hollered out loud and through the comms. "We wanna talk to you."
"Sure, you do," he muttered to himself and scrammed away from his perch. The faster he got out, the better-
"C'mon. We're not that bad," his intruder spoke up.
That was right behind him!
Crane wheeled too fast on the balls of his feet. There stood the other Rav member, inches away and perking up close like a magpie with inquisitive awe. Here, he got a better look at the attire: patterns of bright, neon turquoise and magenta lit over the survivor's hoodie and leggings within the same dimness Crane stood in. As a matter of fact, it was almost like a skull-headed demon was staring back at him.
"Whendidyou-?!" Kyle desperately tightened his scarf around his face more. He didn't see or hear the person make their entrance.
"Whoa," the young trader uttered, devoid of any fear. Though Crane couldn't read any expression with how the Rav member had his whole face concealed behind goggles and cloth. But there was no jump out of fear or a raise of a weapon. "Bones wasn't kidding. You definitely don't sound normal."
Crane shuffled two, three big steps away. He was baffled at this turnabout - how could this kid be so calm? It didn't sink well on the Day Hunter that he was being examined, observed like an animal behind glass.
"So is he really a talking zombie or not?" Ender's chubby friend hollered, prompting him to look back to the storage building below.
He then turned back to Freakazoid. It was a harder reading than on Jack. Anything could go out of the trader.
"Gonna keep us waiting?" Crane could feel a smirk dig into him behind the mouth mask. The strange Rav then disappeared past a tarp before dropping safely to the ground floor; the neon patterns on their attire vanished under the light.
They really wanted him to join them? Just like that?
"Jesus… They're all like Jack," he mumbled annoyedly.
It was a cautious, slow pace up to the second level of the storage warehouse. Kinda back and forth, deciding whether to go and be against the idea. Once inside, the first thing he saw and smelled was the large white bird symbol on one wall of the storage warehouse and the strong wet spray paint, respectively.
The symbol of the Ravs. A white raven aimed for the sky. A mark to say they were here.
He trotted closer to the railings and glanced down to the abnormal scene below: just three people...talking. Outside a safezone. Like it was still a normal day to them. Even the conversation, clearly about him, came across so lighthearted and whimsical.
It left Crane feeling unreal. The very zombie standing around that his presence could ruin it in a heartbeat.
Jack, still smirking, gazed up at the bewildered Day Hunter. "I told you it was pointless."
Crane's frown stretched longer.
"Holy… You really were telling the truth," Riza blurted out.
"Have I ever lied to you before?" Jack sang. "Now can you report to HQ that I am lucid?"
"Hmm…still up for verdict," Ender remarked boldly, not at all rattled by the ex-kickboxer's fretful glimpse.
The light banter and atmosphere were just enough to coax Crane from the shadows, making his way slowly down step by step.
"So this is the famed 'Freakazoid' you were talking about."
"Definitely nothing like what we've seen back in the Outskirts," Riza gapped.
"I wouldn't agree. Been with him for several days and all I can say is that he's not that special."
Was that Jack's way of 'lightening' the load off Crane's back? It was rather deceptively nice of her to do so, and yet...came off a bit belittling to him.
"Well...he's certainly not hissing at us," Ender pointed with some sense of relief. But he thought for a second and steered back to Jack with a whisper. "Does he...eat human flesh?"
"Not that I know of."
Crane's eyes narrowed right at the brunette. Bewildered. The answer was left so open-ended that he could see those two fill in the gaps themselves. And worse, he couldn't forget what happened with that one GRE guy!
"Hey."
Riza was the first brave one to take the first step, almost daring to get a little closer to the Day Hunter. Her body immediately shook, however, when the silver-blue eyes snapped onto her. That scared expression dug a little into Crane's regret. But for a moment.
"Can you really do that telepathy thing, or is it some sort of echolocation?"
And his stigma was replaced with aversion. Jack told them that too, didn't she?
"C'mon. Zombies aren't telepathic," Ender corrected as he joined his friend, unconvinced. Like the girl named Riza should be! But Crane stayed quiet. "Never have in games."
"Or movies," Jack added.
"You know. If you look hard enough," Riza started, her gaze still fixed on Freakazoid. "He kinda reminds me of that one zombie from a game."
"Oh. Does that mean you can super-jump?" Ender asked, as if hit with inspiration.
Kyle found himself surrounded. And Jack's assessment wasn't helping. No way was he going to entertain them!
With that, Freakazoid became the grouchy infected Jack had grown used to over the past few days. His charred lips were sealed, and his arms were folded.
"Really? The silent treatment?" Ender exclaimed. "Hey, Jack. You're the zombie whisperer here. Make him talk."
"'Zombie whisperer'?" There seemed to be a jab at Jack somewhere in that nickname...
"Well, you are the only one he's communicating with. Supposedly."
"Does he really think he's a person?" Riza asked, not in a mocking sense, just out of forthright awe. The gears were obviously turning inside her skull.
"He could just be imitating his actions like a human. For all you know, he could be fooling Jack."
"Seriously?"
"Ok. You can't be fooled easily," Ender replied to Jack. "But anything can go under our noses. Virals like to pretend they can get hurt."
There was an aloof nod from the brunette, accepting the undeniable truth. "Well, he's been standing with us this entire time. That's something."
"Sure. For now," Ender pointed casually. "'Oh, one more thing, Ender, Riza. Jack said that Day Hunter joined the Ravs.' Bones told us that. Do you know how crazy that sounds?"
"So you're against it?" Jack asked curiously.
"Nah. It's the whole 'getting used to it'," Ender's voice trailed off. "But really. How are we supposed to trust someth-"
He stopped himself with a clearing of his throat. He was going to say "something", Crane just knew it. But at least this Grad had the courtesy to correct himself before blurting out loud.
"Ahem. Someone. That won't even talk to us."
"Unless he lost his tongue," Riza proposed inquisitively. "Zombies do lose body parts."
"Or Jack really means it when she called you Shy Guy-"
"Oh, shut up."
Ender didn't jump in his shoes, but Riza did, like a mouse hearing a twig snap before trying to make itself smaller.
"He really can talk," the short runner gasped. "Ender, he talks!"
"I heard it too, Riza."
"Creepy."
"Hmph," Crane scoffed. Yeah, he gave in but he had enough of this circus performance. What was more, he slapped Ender's name right on his list of people to be careful of, just for that stunt.
"Alright," Jack broke the one-sided conversation, a clap of her hands to draw the three onto her. "Now that you've seen him, how about we get onto business?"
"Sure. Later. So what's it like being on the other side?" Ender shot out a question, ignoring the brunette's frown. "You're able to blitz past the other zombies or do they come after ya?"
"Can you move around during the daytime? Or faster at night?"
"Also, do you eat humans? That's an important question."
The ex-kickboxer exhaled a deep sigh. Why was she annoyed, Crane wondered with a frown. He should be more bothered by the bombardment of questions. And being increasingly uncomfortable the more these two invaded his little personal space.
"I've said this before. He's not that special."
"Sure," Ender laughed at Jack. "You got a talking zombie. How is that not special?"
Jack could feel those daggering silver eyes on her now. Mutely telling her to do something.
Or else Freakazoid would be leaving.
"FYI, he's not the only Freakazoid I've come across."
Both Rav members wheeled quickly at the drop of an anvil.
"Wait. There's more?" the younger lady exclaimed.
"This other one's not as friendly as he is, huh?" Ender pointed a thumb at their infected guest.
"Considering he attacked us during last night's storm, no, he isn't sane enough to be friendly," Jack explained.
"Ah. That's a bit concerning." Ender folded his arms. But his gaze still fell onto Freakazoid. "Alright. Since your friend here is a member."
"And not eating our faces off," Riza smoothly transitioned into the conversation. "Introductions are in order."
"Yes. Where are our manners? You can call me Ender. He and they, if you could."
"Mariza. But my close friends call me Riza."
Crane was baffled. One moment ago, this young lady was shaking. The next, she was intrigued, with her partner joining her in their scrutiny. It reminded him of something like this: working for two insufferable people before. But different too.
At least, these two got to the point. Eventually.
"Now that's out of the way."
"You have the goods?"
Jack nodded. Out in her hand, from her pouch, was the little cooled bag containing the sealed syringe. The eyes, mostly the mannerisms for one Rav, lit up.
"Bones said you and Geyong know a way." She passed out the little bag to the two young adults.
The two traders gave a quick glance at each other, almost knowing what the other was thinking. Riza was the first to seize the stage.
"Normal conventional ways aren't going to cut it since the storm hit this city pretty hard." She strolled to one side of the warehouse and pulled along what seemed like an opened container. With again, a familiar, irritating logo plastered on it.
"But thanks to that, we found our answer. Without having to go through nest-infested tunnels."
Out of curiosity, mainly to let the two have it their way, Jack took to peering into the container.
"Impressive." She brushed off the few Styrofoam peanuts to see the newly constructed technology inside. "You got yourselves a drone."
"Courtesy of GRE. They left this beauty at some hideout," Ender started.
"Isn't that against your policy of 'scavenging places that don't belong to militaristic personnel'?" Jack asked with a hint of wariness.
"It's not our fault they abandoned it."
"Place was weirdly stocked. And get this. We saw a group of mercs there, hightailing out of the Bayside. Before the storm," Riza explained.
The gears were ticking and Crane could see it in the brunette's face. But he kept quiet. He knew what the two were talking about, and it was reminding him of a place he had put it far back in his head till now.
The common similarities gave him a bad vibe.
"Where did you find this hideout?" Jack tossed that question out. A good one Crane almost asked but stayed quiet.
"It was near Hope Harbor. Real hidden."
"We could sell those stuff off," Riza passed the idea over to Ender. "Get something good in return."
Although no one in the group could read his expressions with the layers he wore, Ender's voice didn't share the same enthusiasm he did. "Unless our customer's some conspiracy whackjob. Who would want surveillance equipment?"
Did Crane hear that correctly?
"Talo would."
"Yeah, he would. But that tech's useless with everything around us-"
"Wait. Did you say surveillance?"
It irked Kyle to watch the two Rav members react as expected, their eyes back on him. There was that little twitch in their body language, all because of his distorted voice. The two traders then glanced at each other.
Ender, however, managed to collect himself and answer.
"Yeah. Long-range wireless comms."
"Infrared binoculars. Night-vision goggles."
"Transmitters. Antennas. A lot of other things we don't know the names of."
"Know something, Freakazoid?" Jack asked, just to get to the point.
The question wasn't intrusive, but it did carry some sense of urgency. Important information the brunette needed to hear.
"There's another small base. Up in the clocktower," Freakazoid said without hesitation this time. No holding back info like before. The answer prompted Jack to look out of the warehouse's broken skylight—just a tip of the clocktower from afar.
"Impressive. Our newest Rav member doing overtime," Ender cheered.
"I just stumbled upon it."
"So there's more of these GRE outposts," Riza pointed. "What do you think, Jack? You're more of an expert on this sort of thing than we are."
Expert? On what? Crane wondered.
"I know enough if GRE left them behind, they can come back to those places," Jack explained, turning her attention to the two Grads. "So no scavenging for more drones."
"We just need one." Riza slapped at the drone container. "It's not like GRE will care about inventory checks in an outbreak."
"Geyong's setting up a hack as we speak, so we play with this drone."
"She's ecstatic," Riza added.
"I bet she is," Jack droned. "Can a drone even reach the Outskirts?"
"It's the best stealth tech they have. As long as Geyong has the net at her disposal, she'll get this drone to and fro," Ender replied to Jack's question.
"Which means we can send and receive anything for the Outskirts," Riza droned. "Better trades for us. Better stuff for you."
"The only thing to stop a drone would be if it got shot down from the sky."
"And what if it does?"
"Then we'll get another one." Ender took the sample from Jack. "We'll get this over to Bones in no time flat."
"Good. Now about my intel."
"What's the details?"
"Any strange rumors you might have heard lately. Things that aren't normal."
The two young members slowly contemplated that thought alone before steering their sights on one particular point of interest.
Freakazoid's eyes narrowed angrily. "Hey," he snapped in a low growl once he realized they were looking at him.
"Besides him," Jack swiftly corrected.
"Strange events... You gotta be more specific, Jack," Riza uttered.
"Crying, first off. Anyone hearing loud wailing outside a safezone."
"So noise complaints… The Mines would fit that description."
"Who makes a mine a tourist attraction anyway?" Riza interrupted.
"Greedy men trying to cash in on a city's dying history. That's what."
Get to the point already, Crane wanted to say out loud but kept that in.
"It's a tourist attraction because of the aqueducts," Jack said, breaking the little banter between the two members. But a frown stretched on her face the more she thought over that little detail. "Which is part of the water system from Harran."
"Blame the Romans for that," Ender pointed.
"Dark, cramp spaces," Jack began. "...Wouldn't be a bad place for Crybaby."
"That's your second Day Hunter, right?" Riza asked. "Didn't you put a tracker on him?"
"I didn't exactly have a chance. With him flailing around," she explained.
"You sure you wanna go to the Mines?" Riza asked with absolute concern in her voice. Or was it fear of something else? "The locals say there's ghosts haunting that place before the outbreak."
"Rumored, Riza," Ender assured her, something he had done many times before. "There's no such thing as ghosts."
"Ghosts," Crane croaked. It was as crazy as having the undead around. And yet, it sounded more grounded, harmless. The idea of encountering one spectre trapped inside a house over a city full of the undead ushered out a sigh from him. "...What I would give for that."
But this was their reality. And as quick as he fell back to the norm, he realized something about the rumor. It didn't sit right with him for some reason.
"Nuh-uh!"
The outburst distracted Kyle from his thoughts—wide, surprised blue eyes snapping to Riza. This time, however, she stayed calm despite the sudden movement. More flustered and tense at the idea of spectral beings than a Day Hunter in front of her. "No ghosts. Already couldn't sleep with that in mind."
"I think it's just more Virals down there," Ender proposed. "But it is something to look into."
"Leave no stone unturned," Jack exclaimed coltishly. "Anything else?"
"There are those disappearances across town lately," Ender began. "We've gotten warnings not to go to places with a painted sun symbol nearby."
The word, 'sun', made Kyle's body freeze, unnoticed by the three humans. His head felt almost dizzy as that one thought from far back came to him. Then the many 'no's he repeated to himself, telling him it was impossible.
They were dead-
"Must be the Firebrand I've been hearing so much about."
The name didn't match the one Crane had in mind. But like that, it stopped the tension from boiling inside.
"Yeah. That's their name," Ender added, another confirmation to Crane that he overthought it.
"Nobody's seen them up front though," Riza pointed, looking a bit more frightened than usual. Maybe with the thought that this mysterious anonymous group were also ghosts.
So...not the Faceless.
He didn't notice the gaze from the woman in red, but Crane was still reeling, too focused to worry about any mistake he made in his body mannerisms.
All he cared about was that it wasn't the Faceless. Just any mention about the Countryside gave him trembles and disgust. No matter how hard he pushed the memories away, something came rushing back to remind him in a way of nails across a chalkboard.
"You'd think the city life would be more lively. Not fanatical," Riza whined.
"Whatever this 'Firebrand' is doing, it can't be good," Ender rolled after his partner's line.
"This group is so secretive too. Like they don't even exist."
"...Now this 'Firebrand' has gotten me intrigued," Jack sang, much to Crane's growing distaste.
"Best to ask the locals for more light on them," Ender proposed. "Maybe you might get something we missed."
"Rumors are like the telephone game," Riza uttered. "People end up forgetting the little details until later."
"Three months of an outbreak can do that," Jack reminded the two.
"Just don't end up disappearing on us too, Jack," Ender suggested earnestly.
She scoffed proudly. "If they try kidnapping me, they'll get Mad Jack instead."
The cockiness out of her didn't help Crane's anxiety settle down. It awfully reflected the bad choices he made—less crass and more willingness.
"Hmph."
He didn't care if the brunette heard that or the slow steering of her concealed eyes towards him. The gaze saying, "you doubt me?".
"Got something to say, Freakazoid?"
A lot. And this time, he took the invitation. "Yeah. You're wasting your time on a ghost story and cults."
"Uh-oh," Riza's voice was all too soft, but Crane did pick on it.
"Right," Jack chided, sturdy as always. "You did say something along the lines of a 'crazed prophetess'. Care to share with the rest of the class?"
"Crazed prophetess?" Ender mumbled in the background, confused.
Crane trudged a step back, the animalistic gaze averted away. This was another pry between the lines, and this time, he was careful. A low scoff slipped out of the Day Hunter.
"It's a cult. It's never good," Kyle stated firmly. "You can't go off-course when you got that pet project of yours."
"He is right," softly spoke Riza.
"And an infected's saying that," Ender exclaimed, highlighting the surrealism behind that point. The futility and truth of those words came from the mouth of a man who died and came back.
"I agree with you there. But they become my problem if it's everyone's problem." Again, so nonchalant for Jack to swing out a response like that. Unbreakable, resistant, an idol of hope.
Easy for her to fall down because of her own pride and cause. Just like Crane.
In some of their previous conversations, he would stop there and let her do whatever she pleased. But the more push this woman gave, the more it tested his patience.
"Sure. And I'm the one who's gonna drag your sorry ass out when things get too rough for you."
"Yet it's been the other way around for you," she countered coolly, truthfully. "I told you before. I appreciate the concern, but you are my client."
"And I said this too. You can't do everything on your own."
Two pairs of gawking eyes steered left and right. Before the two Rav members, the air had suddenly become uncomfortable, and in no way could they interrupt this.
Surprisingly. It was good stuff. How insane could one person be to have a 'normal' conversation with a freak?
Now all the two needed was popcorn.
"Heh," Jack chuckled softly. Slightly sinisterly. A slice of her persona seeping out. "I'm Mad Jack. There's nothing I can't handle. Not even this outbreak."
Mad. He couldn't disagree, but for a different reason. "Yeah. You keep telling yourself that."
One side was going to give in, whether to reason or pride, but it was clear that neither side would. Again, it wasn't getting through to her. And again, he was too stubborn to let it go.
Both sides ended with huffed sighs.
"Is that everything?" The strain was tiny, snaking right out of Jack's voice, regardless of the playful smile she kept shining at her compadres.
"That's it for now," Ender answered.
"Good. Keep me posted."
Finally. They could leave. Crane couldn't feel any more relieved as he and Jack started their leave.
"Ahem!"
Jack was the first to frown. That wasn't good. She wheeled back to witness the silence coming from those two Grads. Waiting for something, and it was more than getting a paycheck for their troubles.
"Yes. You've got a good look at Freakazoid. What more do you want?"
"Not from you," Ender surprised her.
"Him," and Riza surprised Freakazoid with a finger pointed at him.
His silver-blue eyes went wide.
"Me?" Kyle uttered.
"Do you see anyone else? Of course, we mean you."
"We could use someone with your 'caliber'," Ender took the lead.
"An infected that thinks for himself. This is gonna boost our business by a huge margin," Riza hummed with a nudge to her friend. "Can we borrow him?"
The brunette gave a warning shake of her head. While it was adorable that they saw him like a pet, they treaded on murky waters. With a grouchy infected.
"I'm not anyone's freakshow-" Freakazoid warned them.
"Oh. Believe me, I know what it's like to be put on display," Ender assured him, despite driving the confusion into Freakazoid.
Crane didn't follow. What did the kid mean by that?
"We're not evil ringmasters. We got a legitimate business to run here," Riza swiftly rolled the conversation on. Like two actors on a stage, prepared and whimsical on their lines without any flaw.
"Only difference is, our inventory's more special than the average merchandise," Ender explained.
"Designed for the Ravens. Like Jack." Riza swayed a hand at the ex-kickboxer before bringing it to Crane. "And now you."
"The best shit in the country. From top-notch-crafted weapons, powerful consumables, anything. You name it."
"Depends on your rank, though. The higher you are, the better the tier is."
"...This is a joke, right?" Crane interrupted.
Riza looked puzzled. "Do you see us laughing here?"
No, neither of the two young adults did, but...he just couldn't believe how nonchalant they acted with him. Yes, again. There was always a catch, but...this wasn't what he had expected from the two.
Unless they were as blind as Jack herself how wrong this was.
"You've gotta see how bad this is." He waited, expecting the two to get the obvious clue. Did he really have to spell it out for them? "I'm a monster."
"Who's having a normal conversation with us humans," Riza pointed.
"Nothing wrong there," Ender said confidently.
A migraine. Kyle could feel it coming into his head.
"Why would I need anything when I'm like...this?" He gestured to his own body.
"Well. You bleed, don't you?" Riza uttered, the once-shy confidence now balling up to full-blown spunkiness. She did hear Freakazoid grimace under his scarf, unable to say no to her question. "You're just like us. And you need our goods to stay alive."
What goods? There was nothing of interest that came to mind, anything they could offer was completely useless to a Hunter. A bandage, maybe. A molotov, he could easily scrape for a bottle. But nothing big.
"You're turned." Ender's sincerity directed Crane's attention to him. "There's no denying that. And anyone will want to kill you. So that means you need our help more than ever."
"Yeah, you're scary," Riza confessed. "But we're not leaving."
"What do you have to lose?"
A lot, Crane thought quietly. Another life done in by him, and more blood on his hands, with or without control.
"You might as well go along with it, Freakazoid," Jack's suggestion slipped into the discussion. "They're stubborn. But their business is legit. There's no one I can vouch to find good shit than these two," she vouched nonchalantly.
"Yeah, what she said," Ender jabbed his thumbs at the brunette. "Jack's practically one of our best customers."
Riza wheeled back to Crane. "We'll make it worth your while."
"Hmph," Crane huffed. This almost reminded him of working with Spike, one of the survivors affiliated with the Tower.
"...So what?" he began warily. "You two are ok working with...someone like me?"
He was prepared to leave at any time—even five minutes ago if it wasn't Jack. The answer was and should be clear-cut: he was a danger.
Nevertheless, Riza and Ender didn't budge from their spots. They exchanged glances at each other, then at Jack before back to him.
"You've been sticking around with Jack this entire time," Riza voiced out.
"That's good enough for us," Ender ended.
It left Crane stunned. He looked back and forth between the two, waiting for them to take their word back. But nothing in their actions showed it. Maybe it was a little true: it was because of Jack's infectious personality that influenced these two terribly.
However, that didn't mean he should turn away from a proposal. He was never the kind of person to call it quits or decline some kind of aid… An idiot, but he was never one to go back against his word either. So Crane heaved out a sigh and shook off his gripe.
"...Ok," he replied back. Mostly out of defeat.
"Yes!" uttered Riza. Right before him, the two gave each other a high-five. He didn't like the smirks—one he saw on the girl's face and the other he felt through the other member's mask. What did he sign up for?
"Got ourselves another magpie."
"I'm not a bird," He didn't know how to feel about that. "And for the record, I'm not joining your group, ok?" Crane quickly told them, only to get the two Grads exchange a curious glance at each other.
"Why not? We got all the benefits you would need in a zombie pandemic," Riza exclaimed. "And more."
"I'm sure you're...covered. But I never agreed. I won't take bullshit either."
"Wow, trust issues," Ender pointed.
"Exactly what I said," Jack admitted.
"Aw," Riza uttered. Was that intentional or not, Crane thought gingerly. "Give us a chance. You can totally trust us."
No, he wouldn't. Crane found himself literally trying to back away from the two prying traders.
"If not, we can give you some side jobs. The more we work together, the less rigid you can become around us." Ender added, a little cheeky at the end.
"You can do that after we're done finding Crybaby," Jack intervened patiently. Finally! - Freakazoid's body expressed that word to her.
"We'll leave you to your own search then," Ender concluded. The two traders stepped away and to the little workshop area they have stationed up in the warehouse—their new shop, from the looks of things.
"Shall we?" Jack started with a gesture to the warehouse's door.
"Clocktower?"
She nodded. And Kyle didn't disagree when they left the warehouse.
He didn't think he would return to the clocktower. But Crane wasn't as 'hesitant' as he thought he would be. The idea of someone learning about his past work—Jack of all people—wasn't that far away in his mind. But something about that place he found... Kyle couldn't pretend he didn't find it all suspicious.
He was the first to reach the broken glass-framed side of the clock room, while the brunette vaulted her way higher and higher. A slight improvement in her step. Up in the tower, he took the lead to where he saw the tarp covering the surveillance room.
"Here." Crane tore down the cloth, right off the nails.
It was the first time Jack had been inside the tower, but the west side of the clock room immediately got her attention. Her gaze combed everything about the GRE cozy hideout as she walked further in.
No questions were asked. She knew what she was looking at—maps, gadgets and artillery abandoned in the rushed but organized setup.
"A lot of radio equipment for one small room," Jack assessed her surroundings. "Better reception, I guess."
She was right. Looking at the equipment more clearly instead of dismissing it, Crane recognized the setup not only for two-way communication but also in eavesdropping on people from afar. There was a listening device laying around.
His mind tried to wrap on the reasons, only ending with hypotheses. He knew how GRE worked—on the surface, it was the immediate response to disaster-related emergencies, but underneath, it was no different from any mercenary work.
The problem was the extent that these GRE mercenaries took with everything happening.
What was their goal?
"Don't suppose you scared our spooks off when you found this place?" Jack asked the 'harmless' question.
"It was already empty when I got here," he answered bluntly as he watched her comb their surroundings. "But from the looks of things...they could have been here for only a few days."
"What makes you say that?"
"No rations." If a mercenary or a freelancer like him were to keep an eye on a point of interest, they'd have enough to last for a week or two. "If they were staying longer, they'd have stocked up."
"No med-crates either… Hm," Jack hummed to herself.
Just as Crane did the first time he found the spot, she strolled towards the west window and gazed out to the scene below her. All of Scanderoon for anyone to admire way up in the clocktower—Siv was right about the height being a dozy.
"A nice view of the Junction way up here…"
He joined in the sightseeing. Something about the sight was off to him. Everything about this was odd.
Why this specific window. And the answer was obvious once he looked onward: to watch the Junction.
"Something's not right. What would GRE get from surveilling that place?"
"The Junction might not be their only target."
Crane narrowed his eyes, trying to find a point of interest. There were plenty of landmarks a person could easily pick—the Bayside being one of them. A hospital on the other side. The Checkpoint far ahead, at the 'end of the city'.
"There's the Orphanage…" He felt a sickening feeling in his gut. The idea the mercs might have watched that place, knowing there were children there... "Hope Harbour too… Checkpoint… You can see everything from up here."
He wheeled back to Jack, who wasn't standing beside him anymore. He turned around to find her by the table, eyeing the map.
It was then that he spotted red dots stickered on the grids. There didn't seem any rhyme or reason for their placements.
"Primrose Grove, Bumin Square, Marge Point," Jack read down the streets where some of the dots were concentrated.
"You know this city like the back of your hand." Enough that she could be mistaken as a tour guide.
"I've stayed here for a martial arts tournament once. 2011 Global Trial Championship. Did some sightseeing during my stay."
"GTC?" he repeated. "That's a big event."
"I was a world champion once," Jack stated, a little disappointed at the Freakazoid for forgetting that little detail so quickly. But she let it go.
The locations on the table irked her greatly, even though she wore a poker face. She had read them before, and recalling where she did, Jack pulled the rolled-up papers out from her bag.
She skimmed through the details on the stack of missing people posters, as quick as her hands shifting a page from the top to the bottom. Then she laid the papers down on the map, like putting together a jigsaw puzzle.
At first, Crane didn't get the reason behind it. Until he read off the last location each person was last seen. Once she was done with twenty pages, the two looked back at Jack's creation.
It was a pattern. Seven people at one location on the map, five towards the Bayside, three in Downtown, two close to the hospital and the rest near the Orphanage. The pages corresponded to the dots.
"Now why would GRE be interested in a number of disappearances…" Jack wandered before tapping a finger at a location. Specifically the three dots. "One of these three is Peri. Our missing runner."
Crane clenched his jaw tight at the realization. It was more of the mysterious puzzle Jack had talked about, the little pieces just suddenly appearing to them. They were too specific for either of them to ignore. But without the edges one normally starts with to build the whole set, they couldn't see the whole picture.
Moreover, the fact GRE was involved in some way didn't see well on Crane. At all.
"So what's the plan?"
He turned back to Jack, now wearing one of her smiles—one of the soft ones. The kind that was barely there, the kind that told him she awaited his answer.
"GRE is clearly up to something. That can't be good for anyone in this pandemic."
"Why are you asking me this?"
"You're the client. You take the helm here."
Freakazoid jerked back his head. He wasn't the leader type. He didn't make a good one. But gradually, from the way Jack spoke, it was all about business with him. The sentient infected took the reins this entire time, except during his weakest moments. Without realizing it.
Like Jack said before, his call, but the moment he was out, she'd take the reins.
"It's your choice, Freakazoid. We could always ignore this. or continue hunting Crybaby. We don't have much to go on, anyway."
Not much to go on?
Yeah, they had no idea what the purpose was. But anything he didn't know about wasn't a good thing. Crane couldn't ignore it. Not when GRE was involved, and especially with a cult that was behind these disappearances.
But the longer he left Ercan out there as he was…
Kyle heaved a deep sigh. What a hypocrite. He had told Jack they shouldn't change focus, and now, he saw himself eating those words again. Didn't help that they still had nothing on Ercan and it wasn't likely Ercan would fall for the same trick either—playing house with a demented infected. So there was no choice but to wait until they did hear something.
The disappearances, however... That was something to look into. Urgently.
"They know something," he stated.
That was all Jack needed to hear. Right to it, she went, first on the comms.
"Mahir," she called. "Has anyone seen any GRE mercenary walking around?"
"GRE? No. As far as I know, they stick around the Checkpoint."
"Seems like they've been expanding. There's a surveillance room hidden in the clocktower. They've been looking at the District from way up here."
"The clocktower?" There was a pause and something shifting—no doubt the Junction leader walking to a window to look up.
Jack took to the west face and glanced down to the Junction. It might be impossible for Mahir to see her down there but she gave a wave of her hand regardless.
"It's been abandoned, but they've left their equipment behind. Some of the stuff could be useful for your people."
"Sure," he started, a bit wary in his voice. "Did you find out why they're up there?"
"Not much. Seems like they're looking into those disappearances by the Firebrand."
The other end fell silent. A few sighs and a mumble that sounded uncertain. "Guess you've heard the rumors."
"It wasn't like I couldn't," Jack pointed, none at all offended but curious for Mahir's silence on the matter. "Does that have anything to do with the Suburbans?"
Another sigh. Right on point at what she saw on Mahir's map from the command room. "Yeah... Besides that place being the first place where this outbreak first happened, it was also when people started hearing about that following. Everyone calls that place cursed now."
"Pft," Jack laughed. "Curses. Sure."
"I can't blame them. With how things went," Mahir admitted. "You won't find anyone who won't tell you that place isn't off-limits."
"A little ghost story isn't going to scare me off," Jack jested. But that tone... Crane narrowed his eyes. Why did it sound like, regardless of anything, this Suburban place was a spot for her to do her pet project?
"What do the GRE want with them?"
"Beats me. Since I've arrived here, I've been hearing about Firebrand but not a lick of info about them."
"That's because we don't really know anything about them," Mahir admitted. As if after three months of keeping his people alive, it never dawned on him to ask one question to himself.
"Then how on Earth did this rumor start?" Freakazoid absentmindedly spoke up his mind.
Good question. So Jack asked in his place.
"How did you come across the name?"
"A local supplier. Himmet," the voice on the other end sounded a little grim. Holding back a story that happened some time ago. "Came to the Junction, screaming his head off. Said he saw them... This outbreak changes you for the worse but...not the way Himmet went."
"Did he go into details?"
"No. We just took his word. Tightened up security after he left."
"Any idea where I can find him?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. Anywhere better than here, but...I can only hope."
A dead end. Jack really would have wanted that intel from the mystery survivor. But she didn't protest; there were other possible sources. Like the GRE. She just needed to search for the right spots to uncover more of the mystery.
"Can you tell me about the disappearances in Downtown?"
Strolling back to the table, Jack tapped the map with one finger twice. Point Freakazoid to one area: the Downtown, where the three dots and the three respective missing person pages were.
"Their last known locations are near the Mines," she continued. "I've heard that's a bad spot with infected."
"You're not wrong there. Siv told me about Peri and Rusal."
"Rusal." A name Jack recalled. Right, that thin, scrawny guy. "I'm gonna have to talk to him."
"He's out with Quasim's group. Should be back later," Mahir pointed.
"Hm," she hummed disappointedly. "Then we'll start at the Mines."
"Jack," he stopped her from ending the call. "Are the GRE and this cult connected with the disappearances in any way?"
"We'll look into it." No straight answer, not when Jack had nothing to vouch for one of her several hypotheses. "You tell everyone to be careful outdoors. Avoid GRE at all cost."
"I can do that. But you should be careful too. These people were the ones behind the outbreak."
She hummed a laugh. "That just means they're more likely to make mistakes."
Why did that indirectly feel like it targeted Crane? And attacked him as well? But he could understand that line of thinking.
"Alright," Jack started. "Downtown, it is."
"Lead the way," Freakazoid said. "You're the tour guide here."
"Remind me to show you the better parts of this city then. When we're off the clock."
There had been some expectations traveling to the densest part of the city. Denser population of the infected in the streets was one. Downtown had gone through so many ordeals, much like the Old Town in Harran, that the two runners stuck to vaulting across the rooftops.
The Mines was just at the edge of Downtown, but they aimed for the one street name mentioned on the map, Marge Point. Three people were abducted without a trace. Even if Jack proposed the idea of looking for clues, it wasn't as if they would be easy to find. One thing would immediately come to anyone's mind: those three people were killed either by the infected or bandits.
Then it dawned on Crane the more they looked along the street. There weren't any clues. Nothing left behind by Ercan. Or any sign of a struggle from a vanished person. And that was if anyone did go through that way.
"Doesn't look like Ercan was here…"
Turning back to Jack, he found her struck with a thought. Was it something he thought out loud?
Out of the blues, she wandered away, towards the Mines. First, stopped by the main gates, padlocked up.
That didn't stop. Jack vaulted right at the top of the fence, forcefully balancing herself as she peered over before she dropped on the other side.
"If I were a cult member kidnapping civilians out of broad daylight, where would I drag them?"
"How do we know if it was human?" Crane challenged her line of thinking as he followed after her.
"Does it matter if they are human?" she asked the rhetorical question. Passing the old, salt-covered structures and the 'No Trespassing' signs, they sauntered to the main entrance of the mines, closed off by a large iron gate.
Jack rested her hands on the bars and gave it a pull. Locked.
"Dead end," she heard Freakazoid say the obvious, but her eyes were fixed on something she only noticed in the dark.
In this kind of situation, it was a recipe for disaster. Cautiously, she reached a hand through the bars and stretched her fingers as far as she could on the item. With her head right at the gate, the more she tried to reach out, Jack could hear the low hisses and growls further down the Mines.
She did check in the darkness for any sudden move, and then stretched a little further out-
A whistling sound hit close to her right. But not from the front. Not the disfigured hand of an infected suddenly lunging out of the darkness and towards her like many scenes she had seen in movies.
The tendril whisked through the bars and then out, coiled around the very object she could barely see in the dark. The sudden movement prompted her to stagger back, finding the object slingshot right into her retracted hands.
She glanced back after the retreating tendril, hearing it slurp back into Freakazoid's right arm.
"You're welcome."
Jack stayed silent. She still couldn't get used to those 'things'. Even more baffling to see the zombie who has been trying to be human again, getting used to those mutations.
Regardless, she examined the item in question, bringing it out to the light for Freakazoid to see.
"One Legend-branded bag." The buckle snapped broken. Torn in a tussle.
Jack stopped. What she had in her hands just dawned on her.
"This is Peri's."
At first, Crane didn't buy it. It could be anyone's bag… If it weren't for the small plushy turtle charm Jack brought up in her hand.
The missing runner was here.
But the chances she could be alive didn't ring well to him. They could search the bodies nearby. They had the description on that one missing person poster: female, early-twenties, local, black mole under the right eye. Last seen with a green vest and a Legend-branded sling bag.
It was a bit ludicrous, but he actually didn't find himself asking Jack if they were pulling straws. The old Crane would say that.
The questions reeled through Crane's mind: how did it get there and why? The simple answer he gave was, "Someone might have tossed it in there."
"You're right," Jack chided as she examined the bars closely. "But these scratch marks are fresh… Someone's been using this gate recently," she hummed in a tone that reminded him of a teacher who caught a kid for doing a prank.
"We'll have to bust it open."
"By all means," Jack bowed with a hand swung to the gate, gesturing to him to give it a try as she stepped aside.
Crane huffed through his nose. Of course, he couldn't if he had tried. But he wasn't human, to begin with. So he eventually tested it out—talons wrapped on the old iron bars and pulled.
Thud!
Nothing. Not even loose for an abandoned mine.
He grumbled under his breath, wondering why he had ever tried in the first place. Or listened to Jack.
"We'll have to find another way in."
"We can. There are those aqueducts. But those Mines run real deep, mate. We wouldn't know where we'll end up."
"Then what? Find the keys to the front gate?"
He really didn't mean it. Kyle said it out of annoyance. The number of obstacles piling on top of the old ones started to be a pain to him. And yet, that one sentence gave Jack a little bit of inspiration on the spot—her gaze locked on the gate.
"Hey, Mahir. Curious question," she asked over the comms.
"You're kidding, right?" Crane thought tiredly. But no, there weren't any jokes out of the brunette.
"Shoot," the Junction leader spoke up.
"Hypothetically speaking, say if I want to go in the Mines, where can I get the keys to the main entrance?"
"Keys to the Mines?" Mahir started. "...You'll have to ask someone at City Hall about that."
"The City Hall?" Not a place she would hear in the middle of all the chaos. The way Mahir said, it was as if the place was still operational.
"Another place like the Junction. With even tighter security. They managed to hold off better than the rest of the city."
"Sounds like they're well-prepared."
"It used to be one of the first evac centers. But now...they're not open to strangers from the outside. Specifically, infected survivors."
"So it's a given they won't be forthcoming to me either," the brunette ushered boldly.
"I don't agree with their kind of thinking. They've become pretty...inclusive since this all started," he admitted. Boy, that didn't sound good for both hers and Freakazoid's ears. "It's gonna take some time to get them to open up though."
"Time we don't have."
"Not all of them are daft enough to turn away from a person who saved the whole city."
"Partner here did the saving. I just went along for the ride."
On the spot, in the conversation, Crane was able to notice something in the tone. It was subtle, but it was present. She should be eating up the compliments. Gloating, even. And yet, she didn't take the deed. Just brushed it off with modesty.
Moreover, why was she lumping it onto him? Was this building up to something, or was he reading too much?
"Does it matter? You did so much for us," Mahir explained. "I can give City Hall the good word for you but- "
"But?"
"Like I said, it'll take time. But if you are on the clock, the best way to make friends is to make a name."
"Mad Jack isn't enough of a reputation?" she chided the exaggerated acting of hurt between the lines.
"You know what I mean. If you help out the city out more, I'm sure they'll be willing to listen."
"So more work for us," grumbled the Day Hunter. "Fun."
"We can do that," Jack immediately spoke up before he could even oppose any further.
Crane grimaced with icy daggers fired at her back. Talk about overworking him to death. He would have thought she did it out of spite if it weren't for her cheery attitude.
"In the meantime, I'll try to pour oil on troubled waters."
"Much appreciated," the end of the call. With a smile stretched brightly under the sun, she turned to Freakazoid.
He didn't like it. Whatever was on this woman's mind.
"You heard the man. Let's give more to the city."
At first, Freakazoid didn't leap off his feet, eager for work. Or was it just her? In a sluggish and almost tired manner, he climbed up on his feet and almost closed in on her with a disapproving, narrowed glare.
"Fine. But you're taking on the workload."
Jack's smile still stayed strong, maybe a bit wider.
"Haven't I been doing that, mate?"
More like contributing more to his load.
But Crane fell silent and walked away.
The first course to helping the city was gathering info on who and where needed help. The Junction's quartermaster, the few residents with their own requests, and the bulletin board were all good starting points of sources. Jack returned for a quick visit and to gather that intel.
Hearing gossip was bound to happen as she walked down the halls.
"You know? It's been pretty calm."
Her pace slowed as she overheard three men talk in the middle of their conversation. One of them leaned back by the entrance of Junction's mess hall, partly disappointed at the quality of today's meals and even more unenthusiastic to go back to work.
"Haven't seen a freak in the vicinity lately."
"That's what Quasim and his trappers are for. They're keeping the population as low as possible."
"The runners won't agree with you. He's put some places off-limits, and that ticked them off. Something about screwing their routes?"
"It's for their own good. Least, daytime's much safer."
"No, no. It's at night too." The two men turned to their friend, the first speaker, unsure what he meant. "You'd see one or two Volatiles standing outside our walls. But the streets' been empty."
"Yeah… Does seem strange."
"It's like they don't want to come near here… Feels like something's scaring them away," he said. Half uncertain. Half scared.
"What? Something more dangerous than a Volatile?" one of them scoffed.
"There is that Day Hunter going around…" the other added warily. "Thought I saw the thing moving around further out of the District."
"That a good thing or a bad thing?"
"As long as it's not attacking this place. Maybe."
The talk ended with a worrying tone that the three men gradually shrugged off because of their mindset: there was nothing they could do but focus on their work.
"Looks like you're getting popular," Jack droned over the comms.
"No thanks," Freakazoid replied harshly.
The soft but sharp laugh she ushered surely peeved him up a bit. "You should be a little proud. The Big Bad Wolf has scared off the little pests around here."
"Uh-huh." He was done being a source of entertainment. His pride still hung on even after his strange revival as a reformed zombie.
What a bashful, Shy Guy.
"Oh! Jack!"
The frantic, eager wave of a hand telling her to come to the old doctor startled her. At first, her whole body went rigid, ready to bolt with a smile— believing Doc wanted to be sure she was up to date on Antizin. But her guard lowered at the realization he had company.
On first impression, the other man in his fifties looked like a native tourist from another city. Typical sunglasses kept in a pocket, sunhat, buttoned shirt with rolled-up sleeves, and pants. Sure, not the standard attire for a runner but if anything, it was close to Will's taste in clothes, like a professor on a road trip.
"Good that you've dropped by," Will uttered a bit too pleased for an old man. "Solak, this is Mad Jack. The woman I've been telling you about."
"Solak?" Jack chirped with surprise as she sternly glanced at the Doc's companion, taking off his sunhat. Yes. That was the man's face from the photo. "As in Umit Solak?"
What.
Of course, there was no way for Crane to see faces up close from his faraway perch, nor could his special vision make out the facial details. So he took Jack's word for it.
"Aren't GRE looking for him?" Freakazoid reminded her over the comms.
The tourist-looking man named Umit Solak sheepishly smiled, almost looking like he had been caught, but not for the reasons Jack thought. It was clear, he did it out of embarrassment.
"Yes. That kooky famous archaeologist-slash-politician. In the flesh," he said in an awkward way.
"Give yourself more credit, friend." Will tried to encourage him with a good pat on his shoulder. "You've done so much to preserve Harran's history."
"I've heard about the dig site at the Western Border. Famous stuff there," Jack chimed in, swinging back to her usual facade that Umit hadn't been aware of her suspicion.
Western Border? Crane racked his head over that little tidbit. Archaeology wasn't a topic he needed in his line of work, and every so often, the news would talk about something old, predating something.
He did find it uninteresting. But he did recall a large archaeological site opened in Harran last year…
"Ah-ha," Umit chuckled softly with a sad gaze. And here I thought people had forgotten that. These days have been about the attacks in Harran. Then the lockdown. And now in Scanderoon."
It was unavoidable, given how contagiously depressing his tone became towards the end of his speech. Will's high spirits even looked a bit torn down.
Seeing that in his old friend, Umit tried some hopeful words. But nothing seemed right in his head.
"Sandrine, watch on us all," he ended up saying.
"Much needed in times like these," Jack uttered.
The old archaeologist looked at her with surprise, enough that he let out a chuckle. A relief for the change and out of amusement. "So you know the local saying."
"I've been in this country long enough to know the backstory," Jack explained.
Another mellow and tired laugh out of him. "Most people wouldn't be interested in history if it didn't involve swords and spears."
"Can't be helped. Historical weapons are always a hot topic on the table," Doc pointed, his mellow attitude helping his friend feel more comfortable.
"Haha. Yes, they are."
"Especially the mock sword fights," Doc added. What a mischievous man Jack was learning from the forcibly appointed doctor of the Junction.
"William," Umit uttered with a friendly look of shock. "Please tell me you didn't actually use real swords in those mockups."
"When I was a strapping young lad, yes," he confessed. "And if it's a halberd."
"Alright. I can't argue. Halberds are the best."
The grith didn't last long when Umit gradually looked with a sort of longing gaze. The conversation had a setback; not in the way Will had hoped for. Jack followed after what Umit was searching for on the horizon, over the fortified walls around the Junction. But no matter how much he looked, he could never see it beyond the city's skyscapes.
Harran.
"It's unfortunate that this will go in our history books…" Umit couldn't help but continue his gloom.
"Most events in the books were unfortunate," Jack twirled the words around. "But this is perhaps only the first chapter."
"Poetic. But that, I agree. Scanderoon went through many raids from invaders in the past. Here we are, standing in one of the few oldest districts where that happened." Out came the sincerity from Umit. If the topic was history, that seemed to make him feel a little chirper.
"Told you you'll like her," Will uttered as if he went back to his school days. Then a sudden thought ran through his head. He had forgotten something. "Right. I'm still on the clock. Umit. Jack."
Jack nodded her goodbyes, only to notice that Umit had yet to give his leave as well. Because he had a hard look at the brunette, just as Will did the first time he met her. Again, with the waving finger pointing at her as Umit tried to rack at his grey matter.
"Have we met before?"
Jack hunched her brow. For once, she actually found herself puzzled—it wasn't like the question she was 'asked' by Celso back at the arena. Umit asked it in a genuine way, with poor memory backing up.
The only problem was she didn't remember meeting someone like Umit, or one with his kind of position, before.
"I'm not sure. Maybe from my kickboxing days. You are an important political figure."
Which made absolutely no sense when sports and history were two entirely different fields.
Umit laughed. "I'm just an old man who's into dusty books and broken artifacts. Never been interested in politics. But someone's gotta voice it out every now and then," he said with a tired tone at the end.
"Y'know. GRE is looking for you." The man's smile faded quicker than Jack anticipated, but he seemed unfazed about an organization after his name. "Asking around if anyone had seen your face."
"Really, now."
"Any reason would a humanitarian organization want with you?"
"I wouldn't know. But this is GRE. It can't be good."
"They're very determined to find you for some blooming reason. Some political issue?"
"No one wants to bring politics to the table. Unless it's brushes, sunscreen, and whoever didn't report a caved-in site wall. But… I did do some archaeological lessons for them in the past." He was well aware of the sudden surprise on Jack's face, despite it being mostly hidden behind the shades. "Not an uncommon thing for organizations to help preserve historical sites from environmental hazards."
"Losing any site with years of old architecture, history, and culture in one go would devastate people."
"Right. And...I did have disagreements with them as well. Regarding the dig site at West Border."
"I do recall the news talking about it dating back to the start of Harran's reign. Something about the first King?"
"Right again... But...that's old news now," Umit explained defeatedly. Or was it that he didn't want to chat about old urns and artifacts. Maybe that specific dig site. "Right now, it's about surviving these days."
"So true," Crane murmured, mostly to himself, even if it got caught on the radio. He could imagine a man who spent his years digging up ancient stuff feeling out of his element in an instant.
"I don't know what GRE wants with me, in all honesty. But I've washed my hands on them even before this whole mess."
"GRE has been a little more aggressive lately," Jack warned calmly. "To everyone that crosses their path."
"That doesn't sound at all good. You'd think they wouldn't want to show face after everything," Solak continued.
"Whatever they're here for, it isn't to save their own skin. Lately, they have their focus on the Firebrand."
"Really? After a rumor?" Umit received a nod from the brunette.
Seemed like he might know something. So Jack tested the waters.
"Has anyone here seen them around here by chance? What they look like."
A shake of the head from him. "Not to my knowledge, no. But the rumor goes they're a group of masked individuals going under the cover of night."
"Mask?"
"That's what I've been told."
Jack went right to work, taking the object from inside her jacket and showing it to Umit. The old man had to trade his sunglasses for another set of glasses. With some adjustment due to accursed shortsightedness, he focused intently on the item in question.
"Does it look like this?" she asked.
Umit examined the wooden mask like the many artifacts he had done so, out of quiet curiosity and admiration. Careful and observant.
But he was also surprised.
"Where did you find this?"
"Found it near the Naval Museum. But the craftsmanship looks too brand new to belong there."
The old man chuckled. Not out of amusement or arrogance. "I've seen this mask before."
"You have?" Jack exclaimed, already crossing a thought. "From the museum?"
"No. This isn't from their collection. This is actually from Harran," he started.
Most people would take the upcoming speech as a bore. Dragging on about old and unimportant things irrelevant to the modern world. Jack, however, listened patiently.
Crane, however, felt like it was a red flag.
Where did Jack find a mask?
He felt agitated, but already he could feel it in his gut what Jack had in her possession.
"It's a simple religion. But their believers are strict towards outsiders that there aren't a lot of books on them nowadays." Umit waved the mask in up-and-down movements, like scratching at his grey matter for a memory. "A colleague of mine, he's an ethnographer." Jack gave him a nod, understanding the word. "He knows this more than I do. Sent me photos of the masks the apostles wear."
The old man's crack started off light and hearty—no doubt a sort of friendship—but it softened down to a sigh. "Haven't heard from him even before the quarantine happened in Harran."
"Sorry to hear that."
"Bah... Don't think he'd recognize me even if we could have met." Umit returned the mask. "They're a harmless group in the Countryside." He then snapped his fingers, trying to recall something. "The apostles had a name."
If Kyle had been right there in the same space as the two, Jack could have noticed the sudden jump in him. And if she could read minds, she'd hear his panic.
Definitely, she'd learn that he knew exactly what Umit was talking about!
"But nothing to do with the Firebrand," she continued, none the wiser.
"No. Nothing like that. I'm surprised that you've found yourself another mask."
Jack's brow furrowed. "There's a second mask?"
"This person found one just like this one. Maybe a few apostles might have escaped to Scanderoon from the virus."
Possible. Something did come into Scanderoon with the virus, after all.
"Did you tell this man everything you told me?"
"Yeah. And a bit more… He had this look that I've seen too many times. Pocketing an artifact and trying to make a fortune with it."
"Is he still around?"
"No. Left some time ago. Poor man looked like he saw something terrifying. After our talk."
"Himmet. Right?"
Umit's eyes widened for a second, but realized on the spot that the brunette could have heard it elsewhere in the Junction. "That's him."
"Hey, Jack." Freakazoid's voice did quake with hesitation to her ear. "How much longer are you gonna hold up in there?"
Impatient prick, she thought. Why is he acting like this all of a sudden…
"Is that enough?" Umit returned the mask to her, which she kept back in her jacket.
"More than you think."
"Really? I didn't bore you with the details?"
"On the contrary, it was the opposite," Jack droned. "I wouldn't mind hearing more about Harran's life in the past the next time around."
"Hah." The archaeologist warmed up to the woman's appreciation. Examining the wooden mask rekindled his old passion that had been packed away when the outbreak happened. How could anyone have time to talk about pottery and bones when zombies ran amok?
Maybe it was her plan all along? He was grateful either way.
"I look forward to it."
With that, they took their separate ways. Back to work for everyone in the Junction, so that they could live another day.
"Say, Jack. That…thing you talked with that guy…"
Crane's voice trailed down before Jack asked, "what about it?"
No, he had to stop himself as he watched the one skeleton in the entire Junction glance up. As if trying to find him in the urban canopy. The brunette would easily pry more out of him than he would like. Her sentient, infected partner had all the answers she needed: the Faceless, the Countryside, everything.
But he refused to say anything. Even now, those memories haunted him.
He didn't want to see the damn thing Jack might have on her.
"Nothing," was all Crane could say in the end.
A/N: 2/4/2021
Hello everyone. And looking at my last chapter's timestamp and now, yes, it's been a month since an update.
Currently, and as mentioned over on my DL: Descent tumblr blog, I'm on a major work project for my freelancing so I don't have as much leisure time as I like to have for my writing. As a constant reminder, that I have to repeat, I have no intention on abandoning this fic in any way and will always strive to get the next chp up when I can. I do ask for patience for this month and until my work's settled down.
Moreover, it takes a lot of time to brainstorm my plot elements. I even struggled to decide if I wanted this chapter to be an intermission chapter or not because I thought I didn't have enough for the main plot yet until the next main chapter. I actually decided to put down some elements I had originally thought should be for later. That said, here's the chapter. I apologise if it took a while to get it done and I do ask patience from my readers for the next one(s).
With that out of the way, a little humble and upbeat tone to this chapter after the last one. In hindsight, we really need a bit of a change since I didn't expect the last chapter to affect given with the changes, even a little to myself. AND we have Crane giving just a tinnnnnnnnnnnny slice of trust to the Ravs. He's not holding back - entirely - when it's about GRE. It's there, present, so let's see how far Crane's trust towards others will be pushed and pulled.
I mean, honestly, one of these days, he's gonna kill Jack. Whether because of his other self or because of her attitude.
Anyhow, look out for an intermission chapter before we move onto the main plot. And it's halfway done so I may be able to get it out 1 or 2 weeks later. Plus, do follow my Dying Light: Descent over on tumblr as I post notifications on times if I'm busy and when chapters are up. You'll be more up to date with that than with the notifications from this website.
PS. Ender has slowly grown to now a special character that I didn't think I could go into depth while brainstorming/concept-working AND love to bits now. He might just be a side character/NPC trader but I do hope to get any chance to explore him down the story plot. And Riza is a bundle of sunshine I now wanna pinch her cheeks.
From old author's note: Lastly I really wanna thank you readers, namely Sammisel and Elena. Your encouragement gives me the strength and motivation to keep on writing passionately for this story. It's one I really want to see through to the end and knowing how much it means to readers like you, that's so much more I can ask for. So thank you!
5/4/21 - Fixes
30/5/21 - Retweaked some issues to help with the next plot structure.
31/5/21 - Missing ending repasted.
25/1/22 - Fixed lines and errors.
3/2/22 - Fixed dialogues and removed some lines.
5/2/22 - Rearranged plot points and changed some details that is tied to Chapter 19.
6/2/22 - Placed conversation with Solak here.
4/3/22 - Went over a full chapter edit with some fixes, retwists, deletes and adjustments.
17/1/24 - Final fixes and changes, I hope