Chapter Summary
- BUSINESS AS USUAL
We haven't turned up any clues about GRE or Crybaby for a while now. But we've helped the locals out enough to get an audience from the City Hall. Hopefully, someone there can shine some light on this 'Firebrand' group. - Jack
NINETEEN: INFECTIOUS DOUBT
News flew around, even in the dying city of Scanderoon. The woman in red had gone around helping the unfortunate. And for every good deed, with the help of the mysterious hooded 'partner', it spread to every pair of ears. If the folks at City Hall wouldn't open up their doors after all that, then clearly they were doing something wrong. On the other hand, as Jack said, the help went a long way.
The one thing Crane didn't like was Jack's strange need to point out that it was her 'partner' who helped. Why did she keep doing that?! It unnerved him when…a creature like him shouldn't be given credit. And he could do nothing with a loudmouth like her.
Eventually, the Junction Leader, Mahir, called and said he had smoothed things over with City Hall—a ticket for Jack. Kyle had no qualms about following through, being led further into the city by Jack. Five, ten minutes later, across the high grounds, he could see one particular building in the distance—the large, grand structure with its old neoclassical architecture and some modern touches in some areas. Easy for anyone to know that was City Hall. Closer to the destination, it told a history that became clear; it turned into a stronghold, much stronger compared to the Junction.
From the outside, it looked like it had been a choice of location for the military and healthcare workers. First signs of the first wave: a destroyed checkpoint in the courtyard originally used for security, safety, and medical care. Second signs of the outbreak escalating: the military vehicles used to form walls around City Hall with the barricades once they had lost their usefulness midway through the weeks.
The ground floor was closed off completely. The second wasn't, with all sorts of protection the residents could build. Wires around the railings at the balconies and platforms extended out for two frontal watchtowers. Another few additional ones were stationed on the nearby buildings with some ropes around a nearby palm tree and the traffic lights in order to hang UV lights over the open roads.
One of the large windows in the main building was both the entrance and exit, if ever a resident chose to leave. Stick to the upper floors as a sound plan, like the ziplines being one safe method to the Junction rather than only leaving through the front gates.
City Hall was instead a fortress. Well-established to withstand anything, even the recent storm. And they made it known they wouldn't let anyone come in. On the sides of the abandoned trucks and courtyard's walls read the quick, white-sprayed words of warning. 'No infected allowed'. And one amusing line, 'if bitten, turn back'.
The overall message—go beyond the line and they'd be shot down.
"Talk about overkill," Jack droned while she examined the place from the top of a nearby bank.
Crane couldn't agree more. Beyond the fortified walls were a chosen number of men, armed to the teeth. Further inside, residents were moving on with their 'normal lives'. A little similar to the people at the Tower. But stiffer.
"Maybe we shouldn't do this."
"I'm the one doing the talking."
"What if they don't want to talk to us? They might not even have the key."
"That opens more questions."
Oh, this woman… "Or they can fire at you. We shouldn't take that chance."
"Not everyone's out to get you."
Then she got a disapproving glare.
"Let me rephrase that. Not every civilian is untrustworthy. Exclude GRE."
"Doesn't mean they can change on a dime."
"That's what I'm here for. I'm your wingmate."
"Sure, but...you don't always have to do this." A short pause out of the Day Hunter, coming up with an excuse. "Maybe we overlooked something. Doesn't hurt to recheck."
Jack raised an eyebrow, drilling her gaze right back at Freakazoid.
"What's with the sudden leash from you? It's like you don't want me doing my job."
"What? No. I just think we can find something else. That's safer. With less...people and guns."
Her jaw cringed tightly. He lied. Right to her face. And he didn't hide it or show the usual tension in his body language.
This behavior had only started recently… Since-
"Asem told you to keep an eye on me. Didn't she?"
Nothing out of Freakazoid but he didn't deny it either.
"Of course, she would." It had been a peculiar thing—the Rav leader asking to talk with a sentient zombie. Much weirder for Asem to want it as a private chat. Despite only grasping the little bits she overheard from the conversation, Jack now had a good idea how it actually went.
"With everything you've done, it's no wonder your boss is concerned about you."
"That's because she's a worrywart. All of them are," she hissed, but her smile didn't waver. "Whatever Asem told you, you don't need to keep tabs on me 24/7."
"No, I don't," Freakazoid scoffed. "But orders are orders."
Jack frowned. Expressed in a way she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Are you bloody shitting me?
"You said it was a formality that if I want your people to trust me, I gotta trust you. That also means their chance in this pet project doesn't go up in smoke. On my watch."
"Unbelievable. Where's that whole 'I don't give a damn about authority' attitude? Didn't you say you're not part of the Ravs?"
"I'm not. But I'm not letting you get yourself killed out there. She wants you doing this project, and she wants you alive."
"This is gonna be a 'thing', isn't it?"
No budging. What a persistent, annoying Freakazoid! She draped her arms down in a frustrated manner.
Nothing she could do against their great Raven leader's orders.
"Five minutes. That's all I ask."
He huffed. Almost wanting them to leave right then and there.
"If they start shooting, I'm pulling you out."
"As long as you don't use those tendrils on me."
At first, Crane leaned back. That line could be taken out of context in a hundred different ways, with that smirk of hers. Then his eyes narrowed tighter at the sheer thought she enjoyed him letting his imagination run wild.
Terrifying, indeed.
With both sides of the small group of two settled, the brunette made her way down to City Hall as Crane stayed back as her eyes and ears from afar.
She trotted carefully into the courtyard. By now, someone would have noticed the woman in red going past the warning signs.
Because the balconies on the second floor stirred.
"Stop." One gunner pointed the rifle at Jack. Then another joined him in targeting. And another.
She held her arms up, a sign of goodwill. No weapons or danger in sight.
"Do you need assistance?" one man asked. How kind. From the looks of their mix-and-match attire, they had to have been from the police force. Badges meant nothing in the pandemic, but the mentality of serving for the security of civilians stood strong against everything that had happened.
"As a matter of fact, yes. I'm here to file a request for the Mines. Is City Hall open for business?" she jested.
The men looked at each other—a statement none of them anticipated her to make. On the spot, they were debating. Asking back and forth the questions.
"What's going on?"
One of them took a step out from inside and to the edge of the second-floor platform. Gruffy-looking, mid-forties. He wasn't armed like the other men, but there was an old aura Jack could see under the now-worn and tattered suit. No doubt the very clothes he wore in City Hall before the outbreak hit, then he took to gearing himself up as effectively as the police officers.
And his attire wasn't done haphazardly. He had experience. Even used his striped blue tie to knot together a broken sling bag at his side.
"She's asking about the Mines."
Now it was his turn to be surprised. Then cautious. His stern gaze examined the strange brunette from head to toe.
"Why do you want that place?"
"Just looking for a missing person from the Junction. Does the name Firebrand mean anything to you?"
Again, the surprise crept back. Then the man's face read off his suspicion. What would a woman in a pandemic be doing for such crazy heroics?
The expression settled on the man's face, but not completely. He could have questioned her—say there were as many other kinds of danger. Moreover, no one here immediately recognized her as a kickboxer on the spot. Or that they couldn't because priorities came first over everything else.
"You can come in," he began. "But we need to have you go through a check-up first."
"Oh. There's no need for that." She held up one arm and pulled down the sleeve.
Her audience tensed up at seeing the fresh bite wounds. It was a different reaction compared to the Junction—the men at City Hall had a growing sense of hesitation. Some had a frightened glance that told Jack they didn't want her inside their walls.
"I'm sorry. We can't let infected people in," he explained as delicately as he could. Calm. A hint of pity, but nothing out of ill will.
Which meant the rule of no infected survivors was something he didn't agree with. Maybe a majority vote.
"Not looking for a stay. I'm just here for some answers," Jack assured.
"Wait a minute." One of the gunners stepped forward. "Isn't she that woman who got the dam running again?"
Now the emotions were stirring in the form of small talk and gossip between the men on the second floor. How fast rumors went around the districts, seeping through even the tightest gaps of City Hall.
The man in charge stayed quiet, but he recognized an image when he saw one. He stepped beyond the invisible safety line, down on the soil she stood on.
"Mahir told me about you. Jack Brecken, right?"
She took a casual bow. "In the flesh."
"...Illyas," he introduced himself. The first act of trust. "What kind of answers are you looking for?"
"The Mines aren't that far from here. Maybe there's a chance someone might have this person?"
Out from her sling bag, she slipped the stack of missing people posters and showed him the first one. Illyas took a hard look at the poster, the furrowed brow already telling Jack a no. He turned back to the others, some taking a closer look, before they too shook their heads.
"Never seen her."
It was a shot in the dark. "Then how about the keys to the Mines?"
Illyas's head jerked back—did she plan to go inside? But he didn't need to explain how absurd and dangerous that idea was.
"You think those missing people were taken down there?" The shift in his tone almost gave away a hint of old optimism.
"It's a thought."
"Sure," Illyas said, uncertain if the idea was plausible and if she was grasping at straws on that idea alone. "I can't guarantee we have them anymore. The government locked down those Mines when the first wave hit."
"The Mines are a very large place," she pointed. If she couldn't get through the main gate, she would have to find another way. It just depends on how long it would take.
"No!"
The sudden outburst from a third person surprised Jack and brought an annoyed frown to Illyas' face.
A new opponent marched to the ring for the conversation, the anger directed at Jack's intrusion. Some middle-aged man in a battered suit similar to Illyas' but experience and common sense were far off the complainer's resume. And to sell the amount of distaste he clearly presented to people like Jack—not so much for protection from a non-airborne virus—he wore a face mask.
Oh, she knew where this conversation would go.
"She's infected!"
Illyas sighed. This wasn't the first time he has gone through this. "She saved this city."
"I don't care! She's not with the military!"
At that point, Jack should make a good decision to turn around and leave before the explosion. But that was part of her credentials—to jump in and defuse the situation. So she first observed.
"The military hasn't sent any help for three months," Illyas debated, almost tired of repeating the same thing over to the other man.
"That's why we made these rules. Until they come, we're protecting ourselves from the virus!"
"Your rules mean absolutely nothing. Those monsters nearly got in, thanks to the storm."
"That's your job, isn't it? I shouldn't have to tell you how to do it."
Oh, this sounded wonderful. Jack could see the discomfort in the other guards—not from the heated argument but of how this has become a regular thing. The woman in red would be dragged off the grounds, even if her good deeds were acknowledged. Their gaze wandered to the brunette, and immediately averted away out of shame.
"You!"
Jack feigned her surprise at the sudden pointer at her. She purposely wheeled back to search for whatever he meant before pointing at herself with a 'puzzled' face.
"Yes! You! Get out!" he demanded, bafflingly walking much closer, like his presence would be enough to scare the Wild Dog away. "You can't give the virus here!"
"The virus is already here, mate," she pointed at the irony.
"You're infected," the clerk continued his parade. "Turn into those cannibalistic freaks and then pass it onto us!"
"Wow. He's a piece of work," mumbled the Freakazoid in her ear.
"Do us a favor and leave. Now!"
"She is a damn heroine," the same man who recognized Jack at the start voiced out, actually fed up with the treatment given. " And a well-respected athlete at that."
If she didn't know better, the guard in the background was an old fan.
"I'm just a simple woman," Jack humbled.
"You see? A simple woman! And I remind you, infected!"
Wow, for the clerk to go that far with twisting her words, that surprised Jack to the point of glaring over her shades. The next thing she knew, he might try to twist her arm only to have his fingers broken. She betted on that.
With a frustrated expression Illyas tried to hide, he quickly put himself between the clerk and Jack.
"Can't we talk like civilized people?" he asked coolly.
It was appreciative of the older man to try and help defuse everything. That showed that even in dark times, some people should stop and think rationally.
However, not so true with the clerk.
"We are civilized," he continued before he spun back to Jack with the most passive-aggressive point ever. "And the same should be said for you too. So take your business elsewhere!"
"What does he think you are? A saleswoman?" Freakazoid grumbled.
"You seem like you used to work here, yes?" Jack persisted.
"What do you want?" the man gruffed, his mannerisms telling her he had no time to entertain her.
"Has this woman come by recently?" The frown on the clerk's face grew increasingly deeper. Better to make this quick, Jack pondered, for everyone's sake, as she held up the poster. "She's from the Junction."
He eventually gave in and expressed what looked like just a passing glimpse on the piece of paper.
"Yeah. I've seen her. From the window."
That was news to Illyas. But before he could ask, Jack had already done that. "When?"
"Last week. With another person."
"No one told me this." Illyas grimaced angrily.
"Of course, you didn't need to know. They weren't allowed in." Illyas' brow immediately rose at the cold statement, and he couldn't help but turn to the clerk to see the inconsideration written on his face.
"So she did pass by," Jack continued.
"And I told them to leave immediately or they'd attract the freaks with their loud noises," the clerk pushed.
"Why wasn't I told this?" Illyas demanded as calmly as he could.
"Because it wasn't needed," the clerk remarked tiredly, an answer Jack wondered if he had used many times before the outbreak. "Rules are rules. We don't let the infected in."
Rules. Did it really mean that, or were they twisted over the weeks for an ideal false sense of safety? Illyas's livid body language told Jack there had been many disagreements. The seasoned officer's eyes swayed to the guards nearby on whether a reaction would arise—some averted their gazes, and some were just as confused as he was. Sure enough, one gave a reaction of a guilty man who did nothing but watch and let the loudmouth clerk handle the situation.
"So you left two people out to die," Jack stated straightforwardly.
"Yes. It's heartless," the clerk defended rather aggressively. More in a way, he wanted to distance himself from the nefarious action. In his mind, it must have been easy to say it was a group decision, not his. "We can't endanger ourselves because of one mistake."
"You actually mean yourself," Freakazoid spoke out the exact sentence Jack had wanted to snap at the clerk but kept quiet. The thought was generous—that they were on the same page—while she had to be 'on good behavior' in her line of work, that didn't need to be the case for him far away.
So let him speak his mind for both of them.
"You said infected. Was she bitten?" Jack waved up the poster.
"Her? No. It was her friend. A girl."
That was a surprise. So not Rusal.
"That woman screamed her lungs off that she had been bitten. I told her to read the signs. Inconsiderate people trying to spread the virus."
"A woman asked you for help so she could have patched her friend up. But you turned her away."
"We didn't turn her away. She did. We told her we could take the healthy ones in."
"So he made her choose over her friend?" Freakazoid snapped.
That wasn't the end of the story, Jack thought as she witnessed the clerk turn to her with such an expectant look, saying to her, 'are we done?'.
Maybe she should retract her thoughts about him being a clerk. With an ego like that, he must be higher up on the ladder. Thinking he held enough power to make the choices for City Hall or somewhere else, disregarding the disapproving looks from Illyas and the other men… It wasn't impractical for her to think they wouldn't throw him out if the tables turned.
"Where did they go?" Jack continued, holding her testing patience down for the sake of the conversation.
"Wouldn't know. They did the right thing by leaving us. And you should be following their example too before you turn into a monster. Do the right thing for us."
Right thing.
What a hypocrite.
Jack stayed silent. No way could the man see the darkening glare behind the shades when his head was held too high up in the clouds.
"That's enough questions, right?"
"Oh, but I haven't filed in my request yet." She might as well be an unreasonable customer to him then—if he wanted to make it harder for Mad Jack, then she'd do the same back. "I still need those keys to the Mines."
The clerk was slapped with shock and had to look at her as if he needed to confirm what he had just heard. His small-pea brain already made pointless assumptions behind it.
"Not a hard task, is it?"
"Why do you want to go there?" he demanded. "Even if we did, we wouldn't give them to you!"
"So you don't have them."
The clerk's frown wrinkled tightly at his slipup, hauling from his own prejudice.
"Does it matter? They're off-limits for a reason!"
"Would someone have walked away with it?" Jack continued, asking Illyas instead and completely ignoring the clerk's defense over poor inventory management.
Illyas pondered over Jack's question. "Maybe. Anyone could have taken it. People who worked here, civilians... We've had a few walk out."
"Because they wouldn't stick to the rules," the clerk interrupted, more to establish his presence than a legit answer. "And if you don't like them, we can shoot you on sight!"
Nobody on City Hall's grounds was that cooperative with the suggestion, from the looks of things.
"Yes. I can see the reason for them leaving," Jack stated. And it completely flew over the man's balding head.
"Same," Freakazoid added over the comms.
"Is that all?" the clerk still pushed.
Jack smirked. "I suspect so."
"Good! Now leave and don't come back."
The self-important look about him told her that he expected her to follow through. With hands in her pockets, Jack took an easy-going start for the gate.
"AH-CHOO!"
The movement was so sudden, it made Illyas bewildered, but the clerk even more horrified. The face was priceless: a deer in headlights, his whole body stiff with disgust.
Jack brushed her thumb across her nose, a deliberate show that he got played. "Sorry, mate. Must be catching a cold from the storm."
That did it. The man was riling. A stupid, childish prank by some hooligan?! But he couldn't remark, and seeing the two other men quietly snicker, no one in the court had his back.
"Good one," no way could the rude clerk also hear the terrifying voice through the comms. If only he knew. His fists were particularly shaking.
So all he could do was bark.
"Illyas! Send her off! We are done here." With a pompous step, he returned back to the balcony and indoors. As if that was enough to put the lunatic in her place.
"A piece of work indeed," Jack sang.
Illya couldn't help but laugh. How long had he not done that…
"You're not the only one who thinks that... Sorry. About him…" he apologized, but really, Jack thought to herself, there was no need on the insolent man's behalf. "He's usually harmless."
She nodded, happy to hear that. "Everyone's tired. Just want a safe place," Jack assured him.
"Very true… But I'd have to be an idiot to turn my back on people. Including you," Illyas praised. "You've done a lot for the city."
"And you want me to do more."
His shoulders slouched down. Was it that obvious?
"...Your friend isn't the only one missing. We can't let anyone bitten in… But we can't leave to find our own people."
"But I can. Because I'm infected," Jack droned. "A fair trade to this virus if I do say so myself."
"Really?" mumbled the creepy, disapproving voice.
"People won't like you opening a den of lions at the Mines," Illyas continued. He found her maddening idea pointless that it'd be best to save her the trouble from trying.
"I'll lock the door behind me."
A bold statement. One that the man actually believed the brunette could pull off. Because even if he said anything, her stance expressed how much stubbornness she had. She'd never back down until she got the key.
Or she would find another alternative. Maybe bash the door down. That would cause more trouble.
"...Alright. I'll ask around. But you gotta do us something too."
"I'm all ears," Jack said willingly.
Crane wasn't on board, however. Nothing he could do or say way up from his perch.
"When you find our missing people…don't bring them here."
A rather cold response, but Jack listened nonetheless.
"You can already see that anyone bitten is turned away at the door. Nobody will help, even if you ask."
"You can't guarantee this will keep the virus out."
"No. But it's necessary."
"Necessary for the right reasons or necessary because it's an order?"
Illyas went quiet, torn on the spot. He didn't want to make a choice, and he didn't want to be forced.
"...That's why we still need help. If you can find our people and get them somewhere safe… We can call it even on the Mines."
"Don't fret. We're already on the case."
"We?"
"Me and my partner. We'll find your missing folks."
And five minutes were up. No guns fired. Nothing explosive happened in the courtyard. Jack spun around, giving a wide schmuck smirk, and arms spread out wide. Illyas raised an eyebrow and tried to find the spectator Jack seemingly had, high up in the city's concrete canopies.
"Yeah, yeah," Crane mumbled vocally. She just got lucky.
Just as he turned his gaze away out of spite, he spotted movement in the distance. It happened at the corner of his eyes: bright orange highlights of bones wondering about the nearby streets at a cautious pace.
Human. Since he couldn't see zombies behind walls.
But why there?
It nagged at Crane with how the group was moving, clumsily trying to do a militaristic stride, but they also didn't walk like a gang. High on the rooftops, he had the advantage. He watched the unknown group, at first assuming they were heading to City Hall.
One of the men, looking like the experienced one and certainly the leader, changed direction. Paced themselves. Listened for a sound among the groans and moans throughout the street. Similar to someone chasing another on their heel.
Very much like him and Jack hunting after the Weeping Man.
"Jack. Heads up. I see a group down south, four blocks away."
Jack didn't reply, but she took note. Her palm did lightly rest on her hilted weapon. Just to be ready.
He peeked further out from his perch. From the clothes they wore, it wasn't the orange suit or the standard heavy gear. But he recognized some of their faces.
"Those men are from the Junction," he told her.
That didn't sound relevant on paper. But that didn't stop the brunette from asking another question.
"Did Mahir say anything about sending folks from the Junction here?" Crane heard over the radio.
Illyas replied, looking puzzled. "He only talked about you. Would have told me if we had more guests."
"He would, wouldn't he…"
That was right; the more Crane thought about it. As much as he has always held back his trust for most people in his new situation, nothing deceitful came from a retired military man with a prosthetic leg. Nothing that Jack could pick on.
Something was up.
Then came the sound of a loud BANG.
"SHIT!" Crane instinctually ducked behind cover. Did they find him?! A rifle? A 9mm? He couldn't tell from the gunshot. "They shot at me!"
"What?" the brunette exclaimed over the comms.
"Something wrong? "
"Need to run. Urgent business to attend to," she hummed, hiding her growing concern before bolting out of the perimeter. Quicker and climbing her way to the tops. "Can you get away, Freakazoid?"
"Way ahead of you." A tendril shot to the next building, and off he flew. Fast that a human couldn't catch up, unless they knew parkour.
But they were determined. Although they used access points a normal person would use on two feet, they followed after him from the lower areas.
"Don't suppose anyone from the Junction found out about me?!" he snapped.
"Must be Quasim's team," Jack suggested on the comms. "Seeing he's not the type to listen to Mahir."
"Didn't you take the bounty off him?" he growled.
"Well. He also looks like the type who doesn't want competition."
"Great. So the jerk's trying to steal it from you."
"Would you have preferred if I left the bounty with him instead?" Jack probed. "Get somewhere higher. They're not that athletic."
That was a plan he completely agreed on. The area he headed was more packed, congested with the start of high-rise structures. Anywhere would be good. Even Jack, while seemingly improving on her parkour techniques, could do a better job reaching him than those buffoons.
It was all too quiet, even for his inhuman hearing, and it prompted Crane to look back. The orange, bony silhouettes huddled around the fourth street he had passed. Did they give up?
"They stopped following-"
Another gunshot made him look back. They had to know, right? More Virals would lunge after them for the noises.
Quasim's men acted even stranger through Kyle's zombie vision. They didn't quit once they lost a Freakazoid. They kept going with the search. No change in pattern, and that already made Crane fully aware.
"What are they after?"
"Whatever it is, it's a distraction for them," Jack uttered. "I'm on top of a courthouse."
Crane searched his surroundings and spotted the woman in red high up on a building matching the description, two streets away and under an umbrella dome. The bright sun illuminated her form.
He kept one eye on the trappers. High up, and both of them could survey the group looming below, probably trying to get close to Crane.
No, he took back what he had just said!
"They're heading towards you," he warned.
"Are they now? Sure, I can give them a warm welcome," Jack chided. As always, he thought.
"How about you hightail it out of there first? Now!"
Jack's blurry orange silhouette had a running start, dropping two floors down while Crane hurried over to catch up with her.
"There she is!" he heard one of the men far below.
"Use the trap on her."
"What?"
"Do it."
"Jack! Run!" Crane hollered as loudly as he could on the comms.
The warning helped in some way. Sticking to the ruined rooms and balconies gave her enough cover for a net to miss her. She had jumped, meaning it had flown under her legs.
"You sure about this, Quasim?"
"She'll make a good lure for that Day Hunter."
"They're after you because of me!" Crane hollered.
"Damn!"
For a minute, his heart leapt at the holler over the comms. He couldn't help but think Jack had been caught. But seeing her body fall to the next floor and jump back up washed away a portion of his worries.
Get to her pronto! He literally flew across the abandoned buildings, having to bulldoze an infected or two that blocked his way.
"SRAAAGH!"
Now what?!
The howl was far away. He wasn't sure where to pinpoint its direction when it echoed around him.
That cry was all too familiar.
He calls.
Kyle's pace nearly slowed down at the soft voice—inside his head. No, now wasn't the time to listen to that voice he's been trying to shut up this whole time.
"Looks like they're not the only ones following us," Jack muttered, picking up the pace. "Crybaby's nearby."
"That's great. We can catch him later. Just get away first!"
Though whatever building she got herself in, Jack seemed to be running deeper in. Maybe because of an obstacle in the way. The route she took wasn't any better than what he saw. Left, right, and then up. Dodging other infected while trying to lose Quasim off her trail.
Ercan cried out again from afar—for some reason, that other part of Crane felt beckoned with a primal instinct. An alien need to threaten, a need to show dominance at the target. These conflicted with Crane's desire to help. They weren't his own.
He cannot survive much longer.
"Shaddup!"
"Mate, you alright?"
"What?" he exclaimed. Why a question at a time like this?! "I should be asking you that!"
Her pace suddenly slowed, still with a beat to avoid any Biter. Out of nowhere, she made the insane decision to turn around and bolt.
"Jack! What are you doing?! Quasim's team is closing in on you!" Like a bullet, biting down on the sunlight, Crane ricocheted himself to Jack's last place in the courthouse. The faster he tailed after her, the better.
"They're not after you. They're after Crybaby."
"What-?" He stopped out of shock. Ercan?! In a hazed state, Crane tried to wrap his brain around what he had just heard. "B-But they don't know Ercan! There weren't even bounties on him!"
"No. But there is one. For a Day Hunter."
It finally clicked on Crane. Eyes went wide with dread. "...Shit!"
Names were simply names. Crybaby, Freakazoid, etc. Not the type of infected: Viral, Biter, Goon, Hunter. Crane and Ercan were the same—twisted forms that were more dangerous than a Volatile. A bunch of locals wouldn't know the difference! Moreover, Ercan's description fitted better than Crane's current.
He quickened the pace. He had to get to Jack before those men would get to her. Before Ercan would hound after her. If anything was to go on past mistakes, Ercan was making every attempt to 'save' people and somehow, Jack included.
"No good. They caught Crybaby."
Crane bit down on his charred lip. There was nothing they could do—getting Jack out was at the top of his list. He had to remind himself again that Ercan was no more. They would cage him up like the convicts did-
BAM!
The thunderous noise shook Crane to the core when he heard that, stopping him in his track. Almost as if he had been the one who was shot.
There was no need to figure out what had happened, and the thought horrified him. Muscles tensed up inside of him as his breathing turned raspy. His heart couldn't stop pounding against his ribcage.
No, no, no!
Shit, Ercan!
Hypocrite.
Crane's eyes darted about at the source of the voice. It was louder this time, as if that other self he pushed back had manifested into existence.
You already decided to end his life.
"Get it together!" he voiced out, forcing his claws to stop shaking.
It had been quiet for most of the time inside his head. Another damn hallucination!
You cannot ignore me. Your fear overwhelms you.
"I'm not-!"
You are still broken. You need stability.
Now it was trying to reason with him?! Hearing a voice in your head, Crane might as well condemn himself to being insane.
I restored you to a better form. This sickness is the only way to survive.
Better form?! What a joke! All of this a big fat joke!
"Shaddup! Don't screw with me!" The only thing wrong with himself was this voice! Let him stop this 'fear' and go find Ercan! He forced his feet to move. "I-I gotta find Ercan!"
You want to save him. You want to kill him. You can't have both.
It was painful to listen. The two sides of a contradiction... Crane couldn't deny what it said. Again, reminding himself, Ercan was lost. Tugging harder at his suffocating feeling. With whatever remaining mental strength he had, he tried to push himself: the longer he stalled, the more danger Jack would be in, the quicker those trappers would take Ercan.
You want control.
"I want you to be quiet!" Kyle snapped. Let him think!
How could he make this voice shut up?
"He wants out? Then we'll have to satiate him somehow. And maybe...teach him to work with us. In our favor."
Jack's words from before repeated in his head. Maybe some desperate attempt at an internal solution.
The witch is right.
And now the voice read his mind! It was more annoying than Jack herself.
Let me help you.
Help? Are you kidding me?! Put him through another hellhole of being a mindless cannibal?!
"Just! Shut! Up!"
As if to make himself louder, Kyle slammed a fist to the wall. Enough! He's had it! "You want to help me? Fine! But this is my body! My life! My rules!"
You're in charge here.
"Good! Glad we're on the same page on that!" Kyle tiredly hollered
Then, this is our mutual agreement. Let's be your enemies' scourge.
Was that the end? Enough talking in his head? The Day Hunter couldn't help but sink his face into his palms. "Christ, I'm trying to reason myself…"
He breathed steadily. The shaking in his claws dispersed, and his insides didn't feel terrible.
Hang on, Jack. Ercan.
He'd take care of Quasim's men.
From the start, Jack didn't have a consistent plan. She had been going along, adapting as quick as possible every time it fell apart.
Traversing the tops should have been the best solution. And the men would give up on her because they weren't that capable of parkouring. The problem for Jack was the number of roofs she could vault over. Down she had to go carefully and quickly over wooden platforms, probably built by the Junction runners or left behind by survivors.
"Jack! Run!"
That couldn't be good.
She ducked and ran altogether. Something whistled from behind and missed overhead. A net?
"They're after you because of me!"
Quasim is a strange man indeed, she thought to herself. Not as thickheaded as his comrades. But he figured there was a connection between 'the woman in red' and the Day Hunter. Rather too convinced on that idea.
Which meant Jack couldn't reunite with Freakazoid. Not until they could lose the trappers.
Crack!
"Damn!" It took her a split second to jump from a rickety, moss-covered slide. No way up and no safe way down that Jack had to access indoors, through a large bayside window. Plan: run to the other side of the administration building and out another window.
If it weren't for the wandering Biters turning to the sound of her entrance.
Running was her main focus. Even if it meant ramming anyone who got in her way. An infected would stagger after her with arms reaching for her and she would turn that momentum against them. A simple grab to direct them off her as she sprinted.
"SRAAAGH!"
It was a distance away from her, but she heard that familiar wail clear. Echoing through the hallways.
"Looks like they're not the only ones following us. Crybaby's nearby."
Jack bet on him for the immediate reason that, for one, the howl of a Day Hunter could either mean Freakazoid, Crybaby or a brand new one. And since Freakazoid was fine in the head and there hadn't been any new Day Hunter sighted, it had to be Crybaby. After all, he had been after her for a bloody damn time! This could have been the chance she needed to take him out if it weren't for Quasim.
Still, Crybaby and Quasim...
"That's great. We can catch him later. Just get away first!"
The deeper she went through the halls, the way to the other side proved difficult. No choice but to run until she could find an opportunity in the form of an elevator shaft. Doors jammed open, ripped yellow tape telling a story of probably the death of a person long before the outbreak. With the top opened, Jack quickly hurled herself up and climbed to the third floor.
Among the hisses and snarls below her, new noises echoed from the direction of the howl. They grew profound, like a tumble. A grunt out of desperation. And pain.
"Shaddup!"
"Mate, you alright?" Crybaby was wailing so much, but she didn't think it would get on Freakazoid's nerve.
"What? I should be asking you that!"
All the more she should be asking that to him instead. But...
Something in the patterns didn't seem right. Quasim's behavior, Crybaby and Freakazoid in the same district... Then it finally clicked in her head. She couldn't leave. Instead, Jack ran to the source of the noise.
"Jack! What are you doing?! Quasim's team is closing in on you!"
"They're not after you. They're after Crybaby."
"What-? ...B-But they don't know Ercan! There weren't even bounties on him!"
"No. But there is one. For a Day Hunter."
"...Shit!"
Not like she expected him to figure it out; she did the same too late.
Towards the noise, she found the men down on the second floor of a large foyer. Crybaby wailed and howled tremendously to show dominance, annoyance, and terror at his chasers.
They cornered him, but they didn't back away.
The same net guns they tried to use on Jack fired. One caught his feet just as he pounced away. Another reloaded and wrapped tightly around his body.
"No good. They caught Crybaby," Jack relayed the message.
For a glimpse, she could have sworn she saw Crybaby peer up during his thrashing. Toward her direction. No, that couldn't be right.
"LEAVE!" bellowed the trapped beast vocally.
"H-He talks!"
"He's an infected. They all can talk," Quasim murmured, completely callous to that fact. Considering how many Virals he had taken down in the past.
"Watch it!" Three men suddenly stepped back.
The ropes weren't enough with how easily Ercan launched himself at them. With a moment of freedom, the clever thing an infected could do was run away. To any source of darkness he could hide himself in.
"Move." Quasim took a stand, completely void of fear, unlike his men. He held up a hunting shotgun.
The loud kind.
BAM!
As easy as a dog cowering from thunder, Jack dropped down. Quickly, she rose back up to see a moment freeze up. Did they get him?
She couldn't tell from her vantage point other than what the trappers did, quickly assessing a new problem. Noise meant more Virals. But they had done this many times, Jack could tell. Like an oiled-up engine, they brought up crafted shields and more UV tools to prepare for working a path towards their mark.
Quasim was the only one who remained unfazed at the growing problem. His intent was on Crybaby and nothing else.
If Jack let him take Crybaby, that would take the heat off Freakazoid. They needed one Day Hunter. They didn't need to know there were more.
But a bit of her pride got the better of her—truly, did she really want to leave a job unfinished after what she had said to Freakazoid?
Might as well commit!
Not far from where she stood were the broken glass railings of the third floor, damaged long ago by a bench knocked into them. Her guess was that a struggle had been the cause. The busted metal frame had kept it from falling over—it would be a shame if it did, just as the group of trappers walked under it.
Jack quickly and quietly gripped the side of the bench and heard it creak as she pushed. After a click, she waited for the right timing. Finally, with a hard shove, the bench slipped over.
THUD! CLANK!
"Whoa!"
"What was that?!"
A little scare to dismantle their formation and more noise to stir up the incoming horde. Enough time to search for Crybaby. She hurried along the top floor, using the darkness as her cover, but certainly, she had already been noticed.
Quasim had a keen eye as a trapper. With a passing glance, she spotted him looking up to the upper levels, where the bench had been pushed off. Whether or not Quasim would know it was her, Jack didn't care.
"AHHH!"
Something then caught the men's attention. First thought was a Viral snaking their way past the defenses.
"The thing's not dead!"
Down a set of stairs, Jack glanced back at the trappers, jumping into full-alert mode. Then a whoosh of something darting above like a hungry hawk. The familiar attire Jack had picked for Freakazoid.
So he had jumped in to create more fire in an already-burning forest. Hearing that gunshot with such high hearing must have put him on overdrive. And from the commotions, he was giving them a solid, hard time in the cover of darkness.
Jack turned back, immediately finding the evidence of Quasim's gunshot, holes in a wall, blood splatter, and a blood trail away from the threat.
"There's more of them!" she heard a trapper cry, prompting her to look back before following the trail. Wait, how?! When did Crybaby make a 180?!
Just when she didn't want them knowing there were other Day Hunters!
"What do you mean there's more?! I only see one!"
"Spread out!" Quasim ordered. "It's some kind of trick!"
Jack didn't understand what this new play her partner had, with very little light and everything happening fast. Now just wasn't the time to admire in awe.
"Don't go killing them," she warned Freakazoid. "They may be asres, but they're still from the Junction." It could very well tarnish his name as a reformed zombie.
With the commotion happening, she followed the blood trail down a side lobby. The body was curled up tightly like a ball, leaning against a wall and holding a bleeding arm. He could have hidden so well in the shadows if it weren't for a few wandering Biters staggering towards him like vultures at the dinner table.
They were cannibals, but would they eat their own kind?
One hard whack to the head ushered the rest of them to hiss at Jack. After she quickly clobbered the second, the third and the fourth, it all seemed to settle down.
Which was a fat chance. They were inside buildings crawling with variants of infected.
One quick assessment of Crybaby showed heavy breathing, and the graze looked more serious the closer she got. After all, a shotgun would do the trick.
She had the right mind to leave and inform Freakazoid there was nothing that could be done.
"I found Crybaby."
"Get him out of there!"
A surprising but honestly admirable response. But also unreasonable, which ushered her to gesture her arms up in a 'are you serious' manner. They made the decision to hunt Crybaby and end him out of mercy. Didn't she warn him about going soft?
The tables had been turned too, thanks to Quasim's meddling. She couldn't leave Crybaby to him, not when the bloody trapper acted like a two-faced dirty bastard. Second thinking prompted her to reach down to the body-
Then Crybaby moved.
Jack reacted like anytime she had to an infected who wasn't dead. But something stopped her from fully bringing down her weapon. Something was odd about the eyes—at first out of focus and then glancing at her.
That golden-painted gaze was all too similar, just like the first time, Freakazoid gave that exact stare to her. The man once named Ercan slowly resurfaced.
However, he didn't stir or relapse like Freakazoid. All too tired. Too injured.
It almost prompted Jack to pick the infected man up and pull him to safety. Just like she had done several times for Freakazoid.
Fine. Jack couldn't believe she was doing this again. Against her better judgement, no less.
"You better not chomp on me," she warned, shouldering him up and leading the way. "You won't like it a second time."
Surprisingly, the monster was obedient. Or the blood loss made it hard for him to snag a bit out of her. But seriously, she couldn't believe that she felt sympathy. That she was willing to follow through with Freakazoid's absurd request and drag Crybaby away from the hunting squad.
Maybe because it was hard to see them without a fragment of humanity.
"Behind you!"
She wheeled to Freakazoid's cry over the radio. A rookie mistake? Wouldn't matter anyhow. In what seemed like an eternity, she saw a dangerous display behind her, at the end of the hallway. The UV lights illuminated what looked like Quasim's form, holding his firearm away from Freakazoid, who sprinted at him with an expression of horror and dread.
The aim was point-blank at Crybaby.
With Jack propping his body over her shoulders.
All of a sudden, she felt herself be pushed back—a claw grabbing her by the shoulder and shoving forward. Ercan's body abruptly covered her-
BAM!
Her world shook uncontrollably; up became down, and down became up. She felt the ground. Fifteen feet down. She had gone over a railing and down to the ground floor, bracing for the impact. Something loud slumped next to her like a corpse.
Besides the noises everywhere, her comms picked up others: a pained grunt from the trapper leader, then a scuffle. She easily guessed that Freakazoid disarmed Quasim and tossed him aside.
"Jack!" she heard the sharp whisper through her earpiece as she climbed onto her knees.
"I'm fine."
Jack first checked herself. She hadn't cracked her head, no broken bones since she did prepare at the last second. Then she turned to the body; Ercan's.
What stopped her from lifting him up were those golden eyes again. Fatigued and unfocused, worse than before. But he put his head up and looked at Jack. More meaningful but also moribund.
"I-I owe...m-my...m-mistakes…"
Jack's expression was frozen as she digested what her ears heard. The disbelief rooted in her brain, even after days of getting used to Freakazoid. Hearing an infected give cohesive words was one thing but an infected responding to what she had said back at the dam...
The injury to his stomach, however… The second shot was fatal.
She opened her mouth, but the words stayed. Why did he do that for her? Jack was already a lost cause.
White and blue lights from flashlights flickered in the distance, scaring off the nearby infected. Ballsy for Quasim's men walk around in infested corridors, in two groups.
Jack slumped the Weeping Man over her shoulder again and carried him onward. "Ender was right. I'm a bleeding zombie whisperer."
Funny. She couldn't understand the other hissing infected turning their attention onto her and/or the body she carried. More aggressive and hungry in the shadows, with very few beams of sunlight peeking from above. With her free hand whipping a weapon, she battered down a charging Biter.
"Where did he go?" she heard the men from above.
"This way," Quasim easily ordered.
Jack took a quick glance back and then to the floor beneath her. An experienced trapper could spot the black-red blood trail dripping from the stomach.
"He's here!" she heard one of the men yell from her left. The halls were connected on the first floor, around a large conference room, so the likelihood of crossing paths with the trappers was high. At the corner of her eye, she saw the faint blur of Freakazoid darting at the talker. A swing of his axe down, and suddenly, the Day Hunter vanished. The trapper stared at where the illusion had been, dumbfounded, taking too long to notice another faint blur coming at him.
The real Freakazoid grabbed him by the collar and literally threw him across the hall with barely half the effort of a judo throw.
Ah. So now he learned a new trick from Crybaby... Something Jack didn't like but couldn't argue right there and then.
"How is he still alive?! You shot him, didn't you?!"
Their heads had to be spinning. Thinking it was more than one Day Hunter making them dance. And from the sound of the conflict, Freakazoid had the upper hand—his clone taking the nets and traps while the real one jumped forward to disarm them. She heard a couple of groans as they tumbled down like logs.
BAM!
Again, she froze on the spot. But this time, she couldn't help but ponder... Did Freakazoid-
"Lucky shot!"
Jack gave a short sigh of relief to hear his soft snap. Good.
The body she held grew heavy, however. Something was wrong. But could she stop with the infected buzzing around and trappers screaming in the building? Regardless, Jack squatted behind an area where boxes had been stacked up for a temporary checkpoint during the first wave and then left there abandoned.
It took her to kneel on one knee to realize the bleeding had just stopped. The bells in her head rang so loudly that she quickly laid the Weeping Man down and checked. How odd—that she was assessing him as a normal human needing medical help.
The breathing was almost too shallow that, in any second, he would go. That didn't stop her from trying. Because for a brief moment, those strange-tinted eyes glanced back at her. Not the color or the triggering inhumanity in them. The shuffling emotion behind them did.
Grief was what Jack had read in Freakazoid the first time. From the man, Ercan, it was a wanting for forgiveness.
Jack was the wrong person to ask for that. But she said nothing.
"Jack!"
She glanced over her shoulder. But Freakazoid's pace slowed down once he came around the corner. Eyes locked on the body before her. Half of his mind had thought 'Ercan was dead' when he saw the second gunshot. The other was thankful. Someone had ended his life, and Crane didn't have to.
Then the guilt crept back. Made it almost unbearable at the realization of how horrible that sounded in his head. He was relieved; he didn't need to soil his hands again. Crane had changed a lot more than before.
That irked him.
The moment he saw Ercan's cold body, it came barreling at him even more.
The bullet wound on the arm and in the stomach… No normal person could survive that. Nor could a Day Hunter.
"Ercan-"
Jack doubted Crybaby could hear him. It'd be a second miracle if a man turned infected could recall that name again. But for an odd second, he looked surprised. And then content. Finally, the light went out of Crybaby, as if in the delusion of death, he got what he wanted and finally rested back.
He had been a pain, a monster that took lives, especially that of Lina's father. But at last, it was over.
Jack's job was done. The Weeping Man was dead. The orphans' Boogeyman was no more. So she crossed his arms together across his chest and closed his eyelids.
It felt like the right thing to do. She would have never done this if Freakazoid had never told her about Crybaby's backstory. And for the deranged infected to do what he did, Jack repaid back by giving him a burial.
Now, their current dilemma.
"Freakazoid."
He barely registered her voice. Not even the voices far behind them.
"Freakazoid, we need to go!" Crane was forced to turn around by a hand on his shoulder and the sharp, heavy-accented whisper. "C'mon."
"But…" His mutter fell short to Jack, already up and holding him to have a grip. But Freakazoid's silver-blue gaze strayed back to Ercan's corpse.
The poor man still laid there, blood thickening from the bullet hole. Dead as a doornail. Physically and mentally changed just as Jack drew him in her notebook. That man Kyle rescued was long gone; he knew that, but...
"We can't let them know about you, mate."
She was right. Always right. Crane let her pick him up to his feet and lead with a running start. Eventually, she let him go - expecting him to follow as she rushed her way up the flights of stairs.
He still lingered back and stared up. There was light at the end—a proverbial stairway to Heaven. The rays streamed around the boundary of the brunette's body as she grew smaller and smaller. Out of the damp darkness.
"We caught it!" a fat, familiar-looking trapper bellowed. "We caught the Day Hunter!"
That was wrong. That was Ercan. It wasn't him, Kyle. Those men calling Ercan 'a thing', 'a monster'. Cheering, laughing, being assholes.
But there was no shame for the dead. Kyle was no better. He had killed many infected men without learning most of their names. It was an entire thing to see someone he had known as an acquaintance turned monster and killed.
Would Crane end up like those people he killed? Gunned down in the head like Ercan? His assailant never knew that there was a mind hanging by a thread, even after they pulled the trigger.
He had a lingering thought. A terrible one. He couldn't help it with his circumstances. Would it be better to go back as a feral and end it right away then to be sane and witness his own death right before his eyes?
"I want you to look out for Jack."
The Rav leader's words repeated in his head. Then Crane frowned at himself. What a bullshit thing to do, Kyle—leaving work unfinished and letting himself rot deep in the dark. He would be a coward, just as Jack had said.
Think about work. Jack's pet project. The cure. Keep himself grounded for a bit longer.
He gave one last somber gaze before grimacing at the trappers taking Ercan's body. That was their prize, bragging rights for them to gloat back at the Junction.
If only they knew the truth… Nobody would except him and Jack.
"Sorry, Ercan…"
He kept going. Ascending the staircases had never been so difficult for Crane. Daylight hit him hard once he got out of the access door. A brief moment, however. His body was so odd in 'adjusting' between day and darkness, just so it was tolerable for him to stand the burning feeling. Or maybe he had grown more thick-skinned than before.
Behind him, he turned to watch Jack barricade the access door. Just in case Quasim would follow up to the top. No sign of orange skeletons behind them from one double-check back. So they had one moment of relief.
It was bittersweet. He rested the back of his head against the wall...
"How are you holding up?"
Kyle turned to Jack, first surprised. The same question she had asked him before. But the air around her was sincere.
He debated with himself on the spot. He had all kinds of emotions bottled up, and he struggled to think of the right words.
"...Ercan's in a better place," he admitted. Then he felt angry at himself. What a lie. That was to make himself feel better.
"Can't disagree with you there," he heard Jack say. "He doesn't have to suffer anymore."
Another truth from Jack, one he couldn't argue over.
"Doesn't feel right… They're using his body as a trophy."
"People do love to brag. They need a win in all of this."
All about perspectives, something Crane couldn't disagree with either. He didn't like it, but he understood...
"That doesn't mean I'm letting what just happened slide." A newfound hint of irritation snaked in Jack's tone. Her grin grew wider, teeth bearing like a wolf snarl.
"Well… They did use you as bait."
"Thanks for reminding me."
Crane shrugged. Hey, he was stating the obvious. Luckily, a call over the comms distracted the brunette from a chance of chewing a sentient infected up.
"Jack. Quasim's coming back to the Junction," Mahir said. "You can talk to Rusal about Peri."
"Is he now?" Jack sang, but Kyle could tell. She barely hid her disdain.
"Radioed us just now that they caught the Day Hunter. " A sigh echoed through the mic on the other end. "That takes a lot off our shoulders."
"Wonderful news! Must be riveting to hear them do a job well done. I have a few good words to give them."
"Are you...ok? You sound pissed," Mahir had trouble picking a word best described what he heard.
"All sunshine and rainbows," she ended the call. "Shall we?"
For once since he learned about his twisted fate, Crane welcomed the idea of returning to the Safe Zone. The idea of witnessing the silver-tongued woman roast some idiots was entertaining, but above that, he wanted answers just as much as Jack did.
"Let's."
Jack's frame of mind didn't match the atmosphere once she walked through the gates of the Junctions. And a smile on her mask hid it away that no one was the wiser.
She couldn't take away the happiness. Like she said to Freakazoid, it was a win for the Junction. The blackout nearly put them in a state of panic, thinking the end was upon them. The Orphanage was attacked, leaving a handful of survivors, mostly children, alive. The news of a dangerous Hunter roaming in the day, dead as a doornail, brought joy to the people she walked past.
Didn't help that it left a bad taste in her mouth when she saw several men gloat loudly, only to notice the brunette enter the Junction. Either they continued on with ignorance or huddled away from her sight.
Some of Quasim's men. She recognized their faces.
"Welcome back." And she recognized another face immediately, walking over to her with a look that didn't reflect the atmosphere.
"Not joining in the parade, lil' princess?" she asked the young teenager.
"That should be for you and your friend," Siv huffed angrily. "The Junction wouldn't be standing today without your help."
"That's a nice gesture, but I'll take a raincheck. I'm not the type to gloat when it comes to heroism."
Siv hunched her eyebrows in disbelief. "Where is this modesty from? Weren't you a famous kickboxer?"
"You misheard me, my dear. I said when it comes to heroism. If you want to know my glory days, then I'll happily talk your ear off." The grin on Jack's face mellowed. "How are the orphans doing, by the way?"
Siv's shoulders tensed together. "They're fine… Most of them. Asked about you… I told them you were busy. And we could play some games first."
"They do love their games…" Jack said. "How about the ones who aren't fine?"
"Hard to say," Siv fiddled with her fingers. "Babak had told us before that they didn't know how to help the kids deal with the trauma. And with what happened at the Orphanage… Nobody's a psychologist."
"Scars like that take a lot of time and patience to heal. What those children need right now is to feel safe and be understood."
"Whoa. Never expected that from you," Siv exclaimed, looking genuinely surprised. "Been through this before?"
"You could say that," Jack answered. "Then Carl?"
"He's ok. Keeping himself busy… But I think he still got the jitters."
From what Jack remembered back at the Orphanage, the poor bloke did have butterfingers. The thought of him messing up didn't pass her mind, but she took the benefit of the doubt. "Just give him time too. That's all we can do."
"Hm," Siv said in agreement before her brows knitted together. "You know you could have radioed in to check on them."
"I'm actually here to talk to Rusal. About Peri's disappearance."
And right before Jack, Siv soured up. The anger twisted back to discontent behind a thin smirk. A devious plan. "I can take you to him!"
"Please do."
Siv took the lead to the back end of the Junction, no doubt with the intention of watching Jack rip the thin man apart with only words. Or maybe a fist to the face. The place of interest was a sheltered part of a small carpark, converted to cater for more survivors.
Another part was a second made-shift garage, unlike the one she heard belonged to Noam, the residential mechanic. She noticed a display of tools, crafted traps, and ammo—a station for the trappers.
Quasim was present.
If she saw him, of course, he would see her. Hard not to with that deep scowl of his.
"Rusal?" Jack called to the thin man talking to a group of men.
"Yeah?" He wheeled around, furrowing his forehead. "Not you again."
"I have a few questions about our missing runner."
"I already told you, didn't I? That girl disappeared before I knew it."
"And I'd like to know how she disappeared. You were the last person who saw her."
"Are you insinuating something? 'Cause this sounds like an interrogation."
Using a defense mechanism. This would make this interrogation more fun for her.
"Rusal, what did you do for a living?"
The question caught him by surprise. One hard look on her as he tried to make sense of such a question after months in these dark times.
"A working man, right? Must have been hard to adapt with this outbreak happening."
"I was just a manager… Better this than dealing with big wigs and complaints everyday."
"I agree. Never liked a desk job," she pointed. "But you made sure things went smoothly. You didn't lack the courtesy to help someone when the task was out of hand."
"Of course not," he replied out of pride. But Jack didn't believe him. "If that happens, it'd be my head."
"Reasonable. You understand where I'm going with this. It'd give all of us peace of mind to know what happened to Peri."
Rusal deflated on the spot in defeat. "I'll say it again. She got taken by the Firebrand."
"He's real persistent about this whole cult," Freakazoid added on the line.
"Take me through the steps then. You were in a safezone downtown. Care to explain what you were doing there?"
"He got separated from his hunting group and was chased by Volatiles to that safezone."
"You-!" Rusal had no words for the bold frown from the young teenager.
"Really?" Jack intervened between him and Siv, cool as a cucumber. "Must have been a terrifying night."
"Couldn't stop demanding that we get him out of there the whole night. When he knows runners shouldn't go out at night."
"So the next morning, Peri and her friend were sent to pick you up."
"Friend?" Siv uttered with surprise.
"She didn't have a friend. She came alone," Rusal stated.
At the corner of her eye, Jack could have sworn Siv's forehead creased. The young girl fidgeted, grabbing one arm tightly as she folded her arms.
"And?" Jack continued, surprising the scrawny man on the spot.
"The Volatile was still outside. I told her she had to get rid of it first."
"Likely story," Freakazoid murmured. "All the Volatiles I've seen don't stick around when the sun is up."
"A Volatile? At dawn? Did you inform the Junction about it? Would be a travesty if we had Specials walking around in daylight."
That trap nearly caught Rusal. "Didn't think about it at the time. C'mon! There was that Day Hunter coming out of nowhere and we didn't know till recent."
"Fair point. So Peri distracted our Day Volatile away. You didn't help her?"
"I was out of ammo. And that thing was banging on the door! I couldn't get out!"
"Hm-hm," she hummed, barely taking the last two pieces in. A blatant lie and irrelevant to what she wanted. "After that?"
"She led that thing away. To that Firebrand-marked place."
"And that's Marge Point, correct?
"That's right." A short pause, the trapper rattled his skull about what to say next. Because nothing in the woman's mannerisms said she bought his word. "I tried to look for her. But she was gone. Poof," Rusal gestured his open palms outwards for that finishing line.
"And right after that, she was dragged to the Mines."
Rusal eyed her, brow raised. "The Mines?"
"The Firebrand took her down there?" Siv jumped in, her eyes filled with worry, dread, and a small spark of hope.
"Seems that way. Explains how nobody has seen them on the surface."
"Y-You can't go there!"
The outburst was so sudden that Siv looked confused and disturbed at Rusal. Why did he say that? Jack never vocally made the decision to go.
"Why not?" the brunette asked with curiosity.
"B-Because the infected are down there. They like dark places, don't they?"
"They certainly do. And the Firebrand are using those aqueducts to abduct people," Jack pointed.
"W-Well… That's just stupid. The infected would have killed them. How can you be certain they're down there?"
"I never said I was," she said with honesty. "Doesn't mean I won't go check."
"But...that place's been locked up for months."
"It has?" Siv asked. It was a first she heard about.
"I've already asked City Hall for the keys," the brunette explained. As vague as possible. "Only a matter of time before we find Peri."
The thin man was dead silent, digesting everything he's been told. Jack could tell that his mind was dancing on questions but if he'd ask any one of them—to try and catch Jack in twisting the truth—he would open more of the can of worms.
"Is something wrong?" she chided, keeping to her rhythm. "You look white as a sheet."
Rusal tensed up. Did he give something away? How naïve! He gave everything away to Jack without realizing it. "N-Nothing's wrong… Is that everything?" His voice was shaky, despite every attempt to hide it.
"Of course," she chided.
"Good," he uttered, without realizing what a mistake that was. "I've got work duty to do."
"By all means." She patted him on the shoulder. Which almost shook the thin man nearly off his feet. "You do that. Keep the morale up."
Rusal gave a confused look. Quite afraid of the strength he felt from one gesture, a woman too. He quickly hurried off, ignoring the wide smirk on her face.
He didn't see her fingers twirl into her pockets. Or that the metaphorical snare had already gone off.
"What game are you trying to play?" Quasim then entered the scene. Not asked kindly. Demanded softly, with the distance shortening between his scowl and her Cheshire-cat grin.
"I have no idea what you mean-"
"You know what I mean. Just because you saved the city for one day, doesn't give you the right to cause trouble."
"Asking questions is causing trouble? Hm, odd way of seeing things like that."
"Hey, Quasim. Back off, ok? She's looking into those disappearances," Siv tried to voice out. But the tone was a little softer than usual, and she stood behind Jack with mannerisms that said she didn't know how to deal with him.
"And that makes her a cop? Could get you killed," he directed that last sentence to Jack. A threat?
"And what about that game you played?" Jack rebuked. "Awfully unfair of you for taking a bounty you gave to me." Siv's face lit up with surprise. Then glaring anger at the trapper.
"First comes, first served," Quasim countered. "It's not our fault someone with your rep is too slow for a job."
"I'm starting to hate this guy," Freakazoid murmured.
"So you're not denying you have been following me this whole time," Jack continued pushing Quasim.
"You happened to be on our hunting grounds. It was only right to come rescue you."
She chuckled. "Feels like I've heard that excuse from somewhere before."
"If we weren't there, that Day Hunter would have chomped you," Quasim pointed.
That Day Hunter. One Day Hunter.
But no subtle clues that he could be hiding. Nothing saying he did see more than one and a certain woman in red, making it difficult on them. It could spell disaster—either he waits for the right moment to tell everyone the ex-kickboxer has done more than just heroic stuff or he can't. No one could believe what he and his men saw. It was a risky card if he dared to pull.
Unless he was very thick-headed... No. Quasim wasn't as idiotic as some of his men.
Just cautious.
"Was that decision before or after you tried to use me as bait?"
The trapper took a step back—a reaction! Clearly, he didn't expect for the brunette to realize a net had fired at her. The irony that the infected he 'hunted' watched everything unfold from afar and relayed it back to Jack. And he would never know.
Regardless, the reaction was very short and subtle. "Lady-"
"Call me Brecken."
Another slap on the nerve, the grunt telling Jack she was on thin ice. But when had she ever stopped? "Brecken. We did you a solid favor. Show some gratitude once in a while. Maybe it'd make you likeable."
"How about I do him a solid favor and see how fast he changes his tune."
"Heel," Jack responded to Freakazoid, a finger on her earpiece.
"What?"
"Hm?" she hummed at Quasim with feigned ignorance. And that irritated him even more.
Jack could already guess why, overall, he couldn't get a good read on her.
"...You lost the bounty. It won't do you good for being a spoilsport."
Someone always has to give the final say. The remark barely made a dent in Jack's jolly expression; it actually made the trapper grimace.
Quasim was about to leave then and there, take what he could for his victory and go-
"He's not the Day Hunter Siv and I saw."
That stopped Quasim in his tracks. In fact, it also drew the attention of bystanders.
"The Orphanage asked me to look for him after a couple of their people went missing."
Not a budge out of the trapper. Just a hmph. "You don't give up. Now stories you made up-"
"I'm just repeating what the children told me. To you, to everyone and Mahir."
Quasim's face darkened. Was it from many disagreements between him and the leader? Or because of the little detail Mahir knew about the Weeping Man from Jack.
"They even nicknamed him the Weeping Man," Jack added. "I'm sure if you ask, they'll tell you the same story."
For a trapper, he really was bad at falling for the verbal traps Jack put him in.
"You can keep playing these word games with me, mate. Just make sure there aren't any holes in your story."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Means what it means, mate."
The grin on her face made him wary. Like he had been caught. Ready to be eaten up by the she-wolf.
"Jack. Something's happening in the Junction. To the south."
South. It prompted her to look in that direction. But, really, this 'see-through' vision of his-
The cry for help caught the attention of everyone in the carpark. Everyone lit up, dressed in surprise, worry and confusion.
Siv glanced at Jack with the same expression the brunette wore. Her guess was as good as hers but if anything was to go by on Freakazoid, it really wasn't good. The two skidded fast on their feet towards the source of the noise, which was at the sickbay.
Jack already reached the door to see what had happened. Patients of all sorts hunched up, cowering on their beds and away from the source. Fazil—the runner with the injured leg—continued to yell for help and immediately, seeing the woman in red come in, he pointed to the commotion.
"Nazmi!" Will hollered. "Stop!"
The old man was pinning down a man half his age and twice his strength in a trying attempt. At their feet, Hayda, the lead nurse, dragged herself away with pressure placed on a bite wound at her shoulder.
An explosion happened just as Jack jumped in. Nazmi burst out with a scream, shoving the poor professor off him.
"Stop him!"
Nobody could when it went so fast. Nazmi's maddening eyes locked on the one thing colored in red. Jack had already put herself out to protect Siv and anyone else from entering. With a snarl, the ballistic man swooped after her with the intent to tear her apart.
Teeth ready to bite down on her arm.
"Jack!" hollered Freakazoid in her ear.
A sidestep back saved the man from a taste of poison. The rings of a side curtain scratched loudly as Jack looped the fabric over his face, shoulders, and arms.
She lassoed herself onto his back after a kick to the knee and used her weight to hold the frantic man down. Enough time for her to use the curtain as a rope. The patient at that bed, whether out of terror or bravery, rolled off and helped Jack with a yelp of pain from his injury.
"What's going on?!" she heard a few voices cry out from outside. One was Carl, and quickly, already assessing the situation, dropped down to help with the restraint.
"Someone get him Antizin!" Jack demanded.
"He already took a dosage!" hollered a male nurse, Yakin.
"Sedate him!" Will shouted, unable to get up himself. "Now!"
Yakin did as he was told, scrambling out a syringe and a bottle. As calm as he could be, he kept his nerves down while shakily preparing the sedative, found an artery on Nazmi and injected it in.
A couple of minutes later, Nazmi seemed to settle down in Jack's grip. Heavy breathing slowing down and limbs going limp. She peeked under the curtain to spot the pulsating veins on paling skin.
Symptoms before the first stage of a Biter.
"Yakin, tend to Hadya, please. All of you. Help me strap him down."
Jack, Carl and another Junction resident used the curtain wrap as a stretcher to lift Nazmi up and to the bed Will directed them to. The doctor tightened the straps on the unconscious man as they pulled the curtain off. Finally, Will sat back, wiping the sweat off his brow. All too shaken to tend to the other scared patients—already helped by the able residents.
"What happened?" Jack asked as she regained her composure.
"I-I don't know. He was fine."
"Will, that man just turned." Jack said.
"No, nonsense! Nazmi was only bitten yesterday. I gave him his dose then." On the spot, the doctor was trying to wrap his head around it. "He came in complaining about spasms but...I didn't think he'd get it so quickly."
A troubling thought. It didn't fit the normal timeframe with the virus. Or Siv's intel.
"Could it be a reaction?"
"Maybe? B-But I asked him. He doesn't take prescriptions. He doesn't even have a neurological history."
"You should have euthanized him," came the cold, hoarse voice.
The room got a little colder, despite the event being over. Everyone glanced back to the trapper at the doorway.
"W-What? He isn't fully infected!" Yakin uttered angrily.
"He attacked people. How long are you all going to be delusional just because they look human to you?" he asked crudely.
Boy, Jack could already see where this was going. She faced him, acting as a shield for whatever explosion to come.
"They're still human," she intervened.
Quasim laughed, wearing his stolid mask. "And they're worth saving? Once bitten, that's it. It's the end of the line for them."
"Too early to write them off. We might be close to getting a vaccine."
"Really? Haven't heard anything from the government on a cure... Face it. We're left to die, and this whole sickbay is a joke. Giving up beds for the infected and not my injured men."
"You!" Will started, jumping right off his chair. The words were caught inside his throat but the anger quelled greatly inside.
"The sickbay is for everyone, mate," Jack stepped in. Keep the explosion to a minimum.
"It's for the needed. But instead of taking precautions, you let more people get bitten. The sane thing you should be thinking about is doing them a favor before they turn into monsters."
"Don't you dare hurt my patients!" Will bellowed off his chair. For once, the calm British bloke lost his temper. "If you lay a finger on them-!"
"You couldn't stop a grown man. You're not a doctor to begin with." A strike, an insult to the old bloke's pride.
"Your job is to trap Biters and Volatiles. Not to play angel of death," Jack continued.
"My work isn't a job. It's a necessity for this place."
"Mate, you're stepping dangerously on thin ice."
"And you're an outsider," Quasim pointed, right back at Jack. "You've been toying with everyone with hopeless ideas. If Mahir wasn't soft, we'd kick you out."
"Sounds like jealousy to me there," she chided.
The amount of self-restraint and self-control he exhumed dreadfully out of the trapper, all down to the shaking fist he hid. It was clear—the outbreak had changed him to the point that he was hollow and cold.
So? That didn't excuse him from his actions.
Quasim backed off, knowing full well he couldn't punch her if he tried. He would only be giving her the satisfaction.
"Keep playing your game, Brecken. They haven't made Antizin for months," He laid that fact down on the table. "We've used up all our borrowed time."
Just like that, he took his leave. But the damage was done—Jack could see in a few faces. The dark thought leeched on everyone's minds. It angered some but defeated others. Eventually, the people in the sickbay continued working.
Out of them, Jack noticed one resident, looking the most petrified.
The color washed from Siv's face, her eyes to the floor. A step back as she shrunk through the growing crowd. Before Jack could stop her, help settle her down, Siv had already bolted.
The day wasn't halfway done, and this was already a way to start it off.
A/N: 21/6/2021
Heyo everyone! Here is the next chapter of the main plot. And best of all, I'm at the point I no longer need to change previous chapters and can now upload new chapters! And this will be sorta unknown territory as while I have a brief idea where I want the plot to go, it's still going to be a long journey for me and I expect some turns I'll have to take (like this chapter, had thought of saving the sneeze scene for later buuut, eh, the guy deserves it). It took a lot of thinking and actually editing a few small bits in some chapters to get the ball rolling for the chapter.
Hopefully the next chapters will be faster than before because this is one of several parts I've been looking forward to writing. Like I've written in previous notes, check out the Dying Light: Descent tumblr blog and follow it for any updates as I use that to notify any new chapters or if I have to inform you that real life slows my writing down. Until then, I hope you enjoy the new chapter!
Also, I may go back again to edit some fixes and minor edits to work with the consistency in the plot.
25/6/21 - Fixed errors and changed a portion to carry more emotional weight.
22/1/21 - Added new sections for Crane's inner beast.
23/1/21 - Expanded on the above-mentioned section. To expand more in the near future.
5/2/22 - Revamped the chapter and changed plot elements around. Solak's interaction to be moved to the previous chapter.
9/3/22 - Went over a full chapter edit with some fixes, retwists, deletes and adjustments. Added more content to the chase with Quasim's trapper group.
18/1/24 - Final fixes and changes, I hope