Chapter Summary
- BEFORE THE BREAKING POINT
Shit...things have gotten worse at the Junction. Can't blame them for wanting something to change. And it's a matter of time before they lose their patience... If only we had a vaccine. Then things could turn around. - Kyle
TWENTY: BODY SNATCHERS
What a mess.
High up in canopies of the Industrial District, Crane watched everything unfold in the Junction. He felt aggravated, to the point he couldn't help but pace back and forth from one spot to another with eyes on Jack's orange skeleton. If only he wasn't infected. If he could be human again. Maybe he could go down there, tell that Quasim guy to leave, anything—hence the need to move about, with the deluded idea his feet were down there in the entire conversation.
But he might also have gotten the same treatment Jack and other infected people received in the Junction. Reasoning was already out the door before it could get in.
It had been months;he reminded himself of that fact. The military was quiet, and the people here barely got by every day. And most of all, no government airdrops. If it weren't for the stash he and Jack stole, the Junction might have fallen apart days ago and everyone would have revolted.
That didn't mean it could fall anytime soon. Crane tried to think of a solution. A cure; they needed a cure. Right now. Maybe that could stop everyone from fighting. But they would have to find Camden in Harran...
In the end, he could do nothing. Like always. He stopped his pacing and sat back down in his new spot. Just keep an eye on Jack as she used her usual charisma on the people in the sickbay. It somewhat helped bring the tense atmosphere down.
She took her leave, but not before she stopped at an area. Small skeletons hopped over to her—the orphans. Jack's visit, however, wasn't to play for the day with the reason she gave them, "I've got some work to do". At least, the children didn't seem dissatisfied.
Then one of the kids at the far back of the room caught Jack's attention. The one-armed kid huddled away, far from her.
As if he were terrified of her.
That child that ran away must have been Ekrem; Crane remembered the name briefly. One of the traumatized ones. Jack had been pretty sympathetic over him since they left the destroyed Orphanage…
She said her goodbyes to the children and left somewhat dejectedly. Then climbed her way up to the meetup point, the silicone factory.
"Never a dull moment," she murmured without her usual cheer as she took a seat next to the Freakazoid, legs dangling over the edge.
"...Things would settle down if they had a steady supply of Antizin," Freakazoid pointed.
"We could always ask the government to bring back the airdrops. Though, the other cities are probably doing the same."
That answer wasn't what he'd like to hear. He sighed at the thought that Scanderoon would be somewhere near the bottom of the list in asking for aid. Harran below that name.
"Just have to wait this out till we hear some good news."
He huffed angrily. "...Haven't heard any good news in a long time."
"At least, nobody has decided to nuke this country to kingdom come. A second time," she added that last sentence, much to Crane's distaste. Which he voiced out in a grumble. "All we can do is focus on work. A watched kettle never boils."
So very true. How many days did Crane wait for any good news from Camden about the research? And no word yet after he left for the Countryside. Not like all their prayers would be answered in one single day.
Same went for this Rav pet project. He was no a scientist, anyway, to understand the complications behind it.
Alright. He was prepared, ready to jump. Then he realized the brunette stayed where she sat, fidgeting with something silver and old in her hand—something he had never seen her do before. She wouldn't budge and take the lead.
"Okaaay… What's the next move?"
Her hand swayed toward him, prompting him to jerk back. But it was baklava offered to him in her other hand. Despite Jack's cheery demeanor, the gesture felt almost hostile to him. Some sort of trap for him to step on.
Then Kyle remembered. His well-being from tipping over to a feral's insanity.
But he wasn't a kid. He knew how to take care of himself. But he refrained from saying that to her: Jack wouldn't listen.
"For the pieces to fall into place. Eat up. You need to be on your game."
"What are you planning?" he asked warily, already taking the food before he realized it.
"That x-ray vision of yours. You can see anything, right?"
And a question to dodge his. But Crane eventually answered. "Uh, yeah. About twenty feet away."
"Huh. So you still have 20/20 vision."
Why did she sound disappointed?
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want me to find a pair of glasses?"
"No. I want you to keep your eyes on the exits." She pointed at the Junction.
He sighed as he looked down. Just...roll with it, Kyle. He'd get to the end. "...What am I looking for?"
"Anyone suspicious leaving the base."
He wheeled back to her. "Suspicious how?"
"Eyes on those gates." A hand grasped his head by the chin and directed it to the front. Really! If Kyle wasn't sane, the brunette could easily have lost that hand!
"Ok. Fine. But you gotta give me more to go on... We are a team, right?"
"I never said we weren't. And assumptions are assumptions. Can't always leap on every gut feeling without proof."
"And yet you've been spinning me around in circles," he grumbled, gesturing with a talon to draw circles in the air.
"Because you look like the type that will go off on a whim. Any whim for that matter."
Crane scowled. "You can give me more credit than that... It's that Rusal guy."
"Anyone with half a mind," she gave a passing glance at Freakazoid. "Even an infected, can see past his excuses. He's hiding something."
"You think he had a hand in that woman's disappearance?" Crane grimaced. The guy looked like the type to abandon ship before it got a hole. So an attempt like that, and with no connection between two strangers?
"Something's got him spooked. And I'm not talking about the so-called 'Day' Volatile he met."
"Hmph. Spooked. Wouldn't leave the safehone to help a woman…" Freakazoid started, displaying a hint of anger that Jack picked on. The idea that someone threw a person under the bus—that was the coward's way. "There's that friend she was with too," he then uttered, recalling that one detail. "Maybe she might know something."
"Good point. But it'd be a while before she opens up about it."
"You know who she is?"
"Maybe? Maybe not."
Crane gruffed with irritation. Really, these mind games of hers. Couldn't, for once, he get a break-
"You've been watching the Junction since you've been with me, right?" she probed.
Boy, way to get him there. But Crane yielded. "Yeah. But it doesn't work well in the day."
"But you've seen how many people there are down there."
"That's rather specific… Yeah, I guess."
"Are there more blokes than usual?"
Now that she pointed that out to him… He examined the orange blobs briefly behind the fortified walls. Bigger than usual...
"Is that a problem?"
"I don't know…" she admitted with a stern gaze on the Junction. "Maybe."
That 'maybe' didn't swing with the same playful tone as the one she said a minute ago. Should he also be concerned? It wasn't like the Junction not to turn away newcomers at the door. Survivors passing by hurried indoors at the sign of hope after the storm.
"Ok. I'll bite," Crane started, only to see the eyebrows raise behind her sunglasses. "Figure of speech," he then grumbled. "You've been going on about building trust and helping people."
"Yes. I said all that."
"You've worked with these people. You know them better than me," Crane exclaimed before he leaned forward to read Jack's expression better. "What's wrong?"
Jack was about to speak. Yes, she had learned more about each individual in the Junction with every passing day. But-
"Wow! You look real cozy with that infected right next to you, Jack."
Crane nearly jumped up at the sound of the third voice. Young, female with a different kind of accent. It came from the comms but he glanced about on full alert.
"Hello, Geyong," Jack greeted, also looking around. "Hacked a camera somewhere?"
"Nah. Most of the surveillance in your area is too damaged to use."
So how was she watching them?! Crane wondered. He did gradually hear an odd sound of propellers spinning. Like a helicopter. But it sounded too small. Just as he was about to give up, he noticed Jack giving a wave at something.
Hovering in front of them was a black drone—the very drone Ender and Riza showcased to her. Up and running, with a bit of a movement that established the user was both getting used to the controls and having a little too much fun with the new toy.
"But a drone's more fun to use. I can go anywhere I want."
"So why aren't you heading to the Outskirts now?"
"I will. I will. I wanted to see the Freakazoid Ender and Riza were talking about!" As much as Crane tried to back away in the shadows, the drone hovered over Jack - the lens shuffling and shifting for a closer look on the strange two-legged creature. "Whoooa. That's him?"
"In the flesh." Crane grimaced at the damn honesty from Jack.
"Never seen one so close before. Is it true he thinks like a human?"
"Geyong. You're wasting more time keeping that sample from Base," Jack hummed. "And Bones more aggravated than he should be."
"How about a picture? He's fine with that, right?"
"Jack," Freakazoid warned from behind.
"He's actually shy-"
"Too late!" cheered the hyperactive voice.
A click. But no flash. Crap, Crane thought to himself with shoulders hunched up. Did she really take it?!
Jack shook her head, sighing. "You're on your fifth bottle of soda today, aren't you?"
"And a third bag of gummies."
"Seriously? " Crane murmured. Who were these people?
All he got was a shrug of her shoulders. "They're gonna confiscate your sweets again, love."
"And they want work done. I've been up all night cleaning bugs out for the app. Oh, oh! Remember to update your phone, by the way." The drone swayed in a sudden upwards movement before drifting back to Jack. "You haven't forgotten how to do that, have you?"
Jack scoffed, immediately taking her poor excuse of a phone out. "I know how to update my phone. You Grads need to stop questioning me about every little thing."
"Just making sure. Scanderoon's full of places with new tech installed. With them trying to turn it into a smart city. Sooo, you can use their stuff to your advantage."
"Like?" she asked, unable to see the same line of thought as the young Grad.
"Anything! You got the city at your deposit now. Open up doors, turn on alarms, you name it. Give this to a thief, and they can even break into every bank Downtown! Oh! And you can record backlogs too!"
"Tempting." Crane narrowed his eyes at the ex-kickboxer. Something about giving her the key to a smart city didn't sit right on him. "But didn't you say most of the tech here is unusable?"
"Most. Not all. As long as there's power and it's electrical, you can hack it. You'll be fine."
"And what if there won't be any power? We just had a city-wide blackout," Jack explained. "Might even lose the entire net-"
"That will never happen! The dark ages won't be upon us!" Geyong cheered as if to scare away any foreboding that could sneak their way into the talk. Added the sugar rush, though.
"Mighty high expectations there, love… How's everyone doing?" she then asked with a hint of worry. "Must be a madhouse by now."
"What? Nah. We're still keeping this ship afloat!" Geyong uttered. "Sure, it's a little less lively without you, Ender and Riza. And Talo and the other Rangers. Ravens doing Raven stuff. Everyone else is busy with making the Glade homely."
"The 'Glade', hm?" she repeated, news to her. "That's our new home base's name?"
"It's better than the others. Some of them really bring down the mood. And hey, you're always welcome to put a name into the name box. That's your area of expertise."
"I could. But the name's simple. Homely too."
"Oh! Oh! Talo's not too far from your vicinity," the voice exclaimed, no doubt looking at the screen where the dots popped up from the app, HEADs. "Want me to patch him through?"
"Oh, sure. Haven't heard the country bumpkin's lovely voice since."
"Ok! Done in a jiffy!"
"I was joking."
A voice, however, didn't respond within the comms. White noise and muffled words could only be heard. Really hard for Crane to pinpoint anything, other than the irritable scratching to his hypersensitive ears.
"Talo. Can you hear us? I got Jack on the line!"
Nothing. The static drowned any comprehensive sentence that could go through.
"Talo," Jack called out. Again nothing.
"Must be in a dead zone," Geyong pointed, keeping with the happy-go hum in her voice. "They'll be alright. Right? Right!"
"Never had any doubt they wouldn't. Talo is another thing, though."
"Give him some slack. He is second in command. Asem must have a good reason why she gave him that title, right? "
"Wouldn't know. But I'm not one to question her."
"But you do."
"Only when she makes shoddy decisions I don't agree with. Like sending Riza and Ender over here."
"That just means she's looking out for you! C'mon! You're the best of the best here!" the voice uttered with unshaken spirit. And funny, it then became quiet. Almost as if the young hacker was a bit cautious. "Hey, Jack... When are you coming back home?"
"..."
Crane became suspicious at the silence. Then surprised at the stalling. There was no reply right away to that question, out of the talkative blabbermouth.
"Can't say. Could take days. Weeks. A lot of testing and data-collecting to do."
"I know that. But, you got that guy over there."
"Freakazoid's off-limits. Until he agrees with his checkup," Jack explained.
She dodged the questions. Why?
"Fine, but... Just don't forget, ok? You have to come back to Outskirts alive... This is still your home." The young caller seemingly tried so hard to be convincing on the line. Crane could tell—she struggled with the right words.
"I would never think otherwise."
The ex-kickboxer had been smiling the entire time but behind that façade, Kyle couldn't help but think that something off about it. She spoke truthfully but danced around it delicately.
Why didn't she want to go back to the Outskirts?
"...Alright. Just be careful out there."
"Have I ever not been careful?"
That managed to get a laugh. A very light one that died a bit too quickly.
Suddenly, the full-blown, hyperactive enthusiasm came back like a surprise attack.
"OK! Enough dilly-dallying!" Dillydallying? Jack raised an eyebrow out of amusement. Hadn't this entire time been the young Grad wasting time chatting with her, she wondered. "Time to bring this shiny pretty bird back home safely. Bai bai!"
The drone wavered up and down with the same energy from the hacker's wave of a hand. And off it went, towards the horizon where the sun hung high up. To the direction of the Outskirts.
"You think your friends can find something for this virus?" Crane couldn't help but ask.
"Hm," she chuckled softly. "From one sample? Probably not much. It would help if we could find more infected like you, Freakazoid."
"...Or...you just take my sample." Crane shuddered, feeling actual goosebumps ripple on his hardened skin.
"That's Bone's jurisdiction. But, sure. We could detour back to the Outskirts. If you're fine with a medical check."
"Not one bit."
First from her mouth ushered a light, heartful laugh. "Oh, it'd be a long trip back. You have time to build some courage over a little blood donation."
"That's rich and sugarcoating it. Coming from a woman with a phobia on needles."
The next laugh came out louder from the brunette. "Can't deny that. Then you can have all the time you need, Freakazoid. It's not like I'll be returning the Outskirts anytime soon."
The line took a moment for Crane to digest it... He pondered over the reason.
"Because of your cousin."
"There's that. And the samples too. Among other things…"
Again, that tone. That face she held with her smirk. Trying to keep the façade going while using those reasons as excuses... Her family, that radio guy's pet project.
As a distraction. If Kyle didn't know better, it was as if Jack didn't want to go back to the Outskirts—unless it was a last resort. But he knew enough not to pry.
When they stopped talking about themselves, that was the sign for him to stop looking. For the time being.
"...You do know it was almost impossible to find an infected like me. It took this long to get one sample too."
"Doesn't disprove my notion that there are more like you out there. Probably from the Countryside."
Crane bit his lip at where the conversation was rolling into. "What are you-"
"Are you still playing the amnesia card? I asked you if there was a common denominator between you and Crybaby. You two clearly came from the same place."
He coughed, guilt slowly scratching at his throat. "Right. That…"
"Remember. It's on your terms," Jack offered. "I'm not gonna strongarm you into telling me what happened at the Countryside."
"...Even if the fate of the world hangs on me from telling you what happened?"
"Now that's stretching it. Whatever you found didn't help much, did it?"
Crane smiled wryly. "Nope. It made me into...this." It never got old to Kyle.
"Talo had told me there was some bad blood back there. He wouldn't go into much detail." She chuckled. "But after meeting you, I'm inclined to believe him more."
"Then it's back to hunting?"
"You came to Scanderoon. So did your friend, Ercan. Looks like the chances of finding a Special country folk in the big city is decent."
Crane didn't like the sound of that, reminding him of the manhole he crawled out of before he became the monster. Was that an exit for other infected to scamper out like rats? Worse was the idea of more 'Day Hunters' entering Scanderoon.
Even if he could deny his past, somehow his past leaked through the cracks, with or without his help. A grim thought then came to him.
Who was the next turned person he would have to face? What were the conditions that he and Ercan had to become what they turned into?
A quick sway of orange bones down at the Junction caught his attention.
"Jack." He gestured a talon to one side of the Junction. "West exit."
Jack took out her binoculars and spotted someone slipping out through a side gate. His head turned back and forth, checking for anyone who could see him sneaking out. "About bloody time."
"Didn't he say he had work?"
"He also said he was a manager. He can just get someone else to do the legwork."
"Hm."
"Shall we?" Jack stood up, gesturing to him with a palm out. Brushing the crumbs off his claws, Crane set off, Jack right by his heel.
It was easy to know where Rusal was heading, so there wasn't any point in tailing him. It started with the Mines. It was going to end at the Mines. Both of them watched the same man scurrying carefully through the streets, as they parkoured across the tops.
Along the stakeout, Jack received a passing call—her hazel eyes tight on the wandering trapper.
"Hey, Jack," spoke Illyas. "Been looking for those keys to the Mines."
"They're not around."
"I did say anyone could have walked out with them. Had a thief try to run off with toilet paper once," Illyas explained exasperatedly, his tone almost wishing that wasn't true. "We can keep looking-"
"No. It's alright. Thanks for the help." Her grin grew wider.
Rusal was none the wiser at a runner and a Hunter tailing after him. All the way to Marge Point, then the closed-off area. Despite being a chicken with that one Volatile in his story, he was committed to travel through infested roads to get to that destination.
With everything in place, the man at the closed gates rummaged through his pockets. Jack dropped down from the urban canopy and strolled over to him. He was all too focused to hear her.
"Where is it…"
"Fancy meeting you, Rusal."
The thin man wheeled around with an expression that screamed so many questions in his head. Even a yelp.
"You!" he uttered. "Uh. What are you doing here?"
"Just passing by the neighborhood," was the only answer he'd get. "What about you?"
"N-Nothing, really. Had to go over some traps near here."
"Hm-hm," Jack took a few steps forward. "Mind stepping aside, mate?"
Those eyes of his grew wider, nearly shaking with fear. "W-What for?"
"To open that gate."
Rusal froze on the spot. He tried to regain his composure. "O-Oh?" So much struggling in one man. "You found the keys?"
She gave a light nod, at least that was what it looked like to him. No amount of blocking her way could stop Jack as she closed the distance. Rusal, as scared as a mouse, had no choice but to quail.
"A-Are you sure that's a good idea?" he whined.
Jack didn't reply. She slipped a old key from her pocket, into the rusty lock and turned it. An echo of the antique mechanism made Rusal hop out of his own skin as the door creaked open, loud and dreary.
"Open sesame."
On the spot, Rusal was a nervous man. His right hand cupped on his mouth to stop himself from spouting out words, his left clutching his elbow.
"You can't be serious about searching for that runner down there. She's as good as dead." He tried to find more reasons. Any reason. "You'll let more of those freaks out."
"They aren't the main issue, mate." She backed away, purposefully backing away from the gate and examining it from top to bottom. "There's something more problematic than all that."
"W-What's that?"
Jack raised the key for him to see it again as the grin on her face stretched wide.
"This key came from your pocket."
The color flushed right out of Rusal's face. He couldn't wrap his brain around what she said. Almost urged his hand to pat down his pocket.
He tried to stay calm.
"What…?" Rusal staggered back, almost losing his footing. "What are you talking about?"
Play the dumb game. All right, Jack thought.
"You used to work at City Hall. Manager position. Dealing with big wigs and complaints on a daily basis?" she repeated what he had said before.
"I-I could have worked anywhere else!"
"Yes. Might even have been any random person rushing over to the checkpoint during the first wave. But why would you have the keys to the Mines?" She then exclaimed, "Oh. Take notes. When you're nervous that someone starts talking about the Mines, don't keep grabbing for your pocket. Makes it easy to figure you out."
The look on the thin man's face once he saw the finger point to his hand gripping his empty coat pocket tightly. It was priceless, even to Crane. He also asked the question himself: when did Jack get the key off him?
From so far away with his vision seeing orange skeletons blob together, he couldn't have seen the rough interaction Jack gave Rusal back when they were at the Junction. A pat on the back distracted the scrawny man from seeing the other hand slip into his pocket and steal it.
"B-But, but, y-you, you said you got that key from City Hall!"
"I didn't say that."
"What?!"
"I simply gave you blanks. You filled them up all by yourself."
Rusal stood there, mouth gaping so wide. Completely swallowed up by shock. Bafflement. And humiliation. His mind went on overdrive, trying to figure out when he got snared in this word game of Jack's.
"Yeah, we can keep this going. But we need to move this conversation on," Jack began. "You locked Peri in the Mines, didn't you?"
The atmosphere changed on a dime, rousing Crane to stand up from his perch. His brow furrowed.
"Y-You, you got it all wrong!" Rusal uttered.
"Have I? A locked gate. And Peri's bag on the other side." The more she spoke, the more his face twisted with guilt. Plain and simple. "What did I get wrong?"
"T-This isn't what you think!"
"Then explain."
"I can't. T-They'll kill me."
"Who will?"
"I-I can't tell you that either!"
"You can't or you won't?"
"AHHH! Who?!" Rusal scampered down to the ground, away from the tall hooded man that appeared out of nowhere. The appearing act was one thing, but the distorted voice was another, sending chills down his spine.
Something was off about this new guy on first impression.
"Really?" the brunette uttered. "I thought you didn't want folks learning about you."
Crane got fed up with this circus show. The more he listened to this coward of a man, the more he wanted to wind the truth out of him. Rusal wasn't the first. How many men did he come across as a human, confronted with tasteless threats and insults. What got Crane more provoked was when some of those men endangered the lives of women, children, and the elderly.
Rusal had some nerves. With how the thin man tried to hide something from Jack, the waiting prompted him to leave the canopies. Kyle was done.
But he would keep his words to a minimum. The more he talked, the more likely he'd expose his secret.
"Alright. Let's play good cop, bad cop then. I do better with exchanges."
"What? Who?" Rusal rambled on, unable to tear his pointing finger from the stranger. He galloped backwards onto his feet, but Jack blocked his way for an exit.
"Why can't you tell us?" she started. "These cult fanatics must have really put the fear of God into you to make you tight-lipped."
"You don't know what you're asking."
Not what Jack wanted to hear. She shook her head disappointedly. "The folks at the Junction are gonna ask questions why you locked a defenseless woman in the Mines, Rusal."
Rusal jumped to stop her. "I-I didn't lock her up!"
"You didn't intentionally. But Peri's kidnappers told you to?" Jack hummed, noting the nervous ticks in Rusal's mannerisms. She was on the right track. "You must have been glad it was her and not you."
"What does it matter?!" Rusal suddenly burst out. Then an idea suddenly seemed to hit his brain. "Actually, it doesn't!"
"What doesn't?"
"You have the key now!" Rusal chuckled manically. The ex-manager's little habit: dropping a pile of work onto someone's lap so he wouldn't take the fall. A cunning snake in the grass that he could try it on a Wild Dog. "Who's gonna believe you got that off me?"
"And who will believe you didn't have this?" Jack countered.
"Nobody will. Same goes for you, lady. It'd be my word against yours!"
Crane balled up his claws. The bastard was going to pull that excuse out with everything falling around them?
He was about to step in, be the threatening Kyle Crane he used to put forth when dealing with jerks that talked too highly or thugs that wouldn't back down. He could tell, Rusal was the type of pushover who talked big and backed down fast.
So a monster would do the job-
"Alright, then," Jack sang, stopping Crane.
Good! Rusal smirked nervously. He could get away scot-free-
He didn't see the arm lunge at his collar. He, and Crane as well, barely registered what was happening. In a panic, Rusal tried to get the woman off him as he felt his feet drag forward but his body push back.
Then his world was turned upside down, his back on a railing.
"Jack! What are you doing?!"
"Ahh! AHHH! P-Please!" the scrawny man pleaded. "Pull me up!"
By the collar of his shirt, the scrawny man hung over the edge of a large abandoned quarry. What kept him from completely falling into a pit of several wandering Biters was Jack's other hand on his leg. Heads turned to the panicked wails. Then came the hungry snarls.
Although the guy was an asshole, was that going too far? What stopped Crane was the wide grin gone from Jack's face. She wouldn't listen until she got what she wanted.
"Look down there."
Rusal couldn't. Fear engulfed him whole.
"Look!"
He did as he was told. His whole body trembled uncontrollably as he watched the infected swarm in the pit he hung over.
Snapping for his head.
"You think you can stay alive if you stay quiet? Your bloody silence won't matter either. Whether the Junction stands or not," Jack remarked. "At any moment, you can drop dead."
That was a fact nobody in the new world could deny: corpses and the walking dead surrounded them.
No, this woman was trying to scare him! He could live! He had to play his cards right! Wait out until support would come to rescue them!
Why else did he wait for months now?!
But Jack's words were venomous.
"All it takes is one little slip-up."
The way Jack chided the last sentence gradually lightened her grip on his collar. He watched in horror at the fingers loosening.
Counting down his death.
"One."
"Two."
Jack's teeth clenched together, ready to roll her tongue at the word.
"Alright! I'll tell you! It's the convicts! They work for a guy named Cel!"
"Not GRE?"
"What?! How are they related?!" he answered Jack's question. Genuine confusion. "T-They killed a few of our guys some time ago. So I told them about the key to the Mines! It was all I had!"
A misshapen origin story that Jack could only guess—it must have happened way before she had crashed into the Coast.
"T-They made copies with it! T-Then told me to bring anyone here if I get a chance. O-Or else they'd burn the Junction down!" Rusal exclaimed. "All I did was lure her to the Mines and they took her. It was already too late for her!"
"Too late?!"
The thin man yelped out of terror at the sudden growl. Why did that stranger sound so different from a human?!
"W-What the hell is wrong with him?!" Rusal hollered.
"I should be asking you that. You handed her to convicts. How many folks did you bring?" Jack demanded coolyl.
"I didn't-"
Not what Jack wanted to hear. Suddenly, Rusal felt himself descend a few more inches. Faster.
"THREE!" he yelled. "Peri was the fourth one! B-But," he tried to continue, to weasel another excuse out. "You weren't here! They've tried to attack the Junction many times! Then they suddenly changed. Said if we handed them those who are infected..."
'We' meant more than him. More people threatened to do the devil's bidding in exchange for their lives—or so they believed, for the Junction's sake.
How far had the thorns slither into the Junction? Maybe far too deep for anyone to cut down and tear off after a little weeding.
"I did what I had to for the Junction! We'd been dead weeks ago!"
There was something odd and terrifying about the stranger. Something in those weirdly blue-tinted eyes. Building up. Swelling.
Rusal could feel his teeth chatter
That look on the stranger's face… He wanted to kill him. Lunge at him and strangle his neck-
"You're such a pathetic liar."
The tense atmosphere suddenly dispersed, both he and the hooded man glancing back at Jack. Who peered at him with a stranger look.
Disappointment.
"Did you say that to yourself after they took Peri away? After she turned to you for help?"
What?
He did everything he could.
The questions, however, sank deeper into his mind, and he replayed the memories.
Seeing that face of betrayal from a random stranger. A woman.
Why did it affect him so much? He didn't know any of the runners. Didn't care what happened.
"You had the key when they made copies. So why keep the original this whole time?" Jack asked.
Why?
His mind repeated that word like an eerie chant.
Why did he keep the evidence this whole time?
Why?
Someone tell him why.
Why, why, why?
"You didn't lock her in. You've never tried to open the Mines and rescue her."
No, he knew the answer this whole time.
The key felt so heavy after Peri was gone, just as his guilt accumulated over time. He went nearly mad when it wasn't in his pocket.
Then maddening relief.
Now, his sins were absolutely peeled apart by the last person he didn't think had the brains to uncover the truth.
Something felt wet in his eyes. Rusal found himself at the brink of tears. But it was pointless now, he could see that in her face. Admitting to the crime now couldn't fix the damage.
He gave up.
"Yeah… I didn't go back to save her… I can't win against a group of convicted felons. You'd have to be insane to go after them…"
Jack stayed silent. Not because she agreed with him. A normal working man wouldn't pick something up, and blunder a crook's head.
For a moment, Rusal thought he saw something on her face. That brought back the shivers. Why did she do that?
Why did she smile like that?
"Then I got my work cut out for me."
Wait.
She can't possibly-?
His whole world shifted too fast for him to register his feet on solid ground. Now he stood, face to face with the smiling brunette. Hands arrested his shoulders.
He couldn't run, even if he tried. He was too afraid. Too ashamed.
"Now…" Jack's mannerisms changed on a dime. She went to work to sell the fear to the poor sob. By tugging at the patched-up top, cleaning off the wrinkles and brushing the dust off Rusal's shaking shoulders. "Don't go telling anyone at the Junction. You've worked with Quasim long enough to know the kind of man he is..."
Rusal swallowed. He couldn't stop trembling as he watched the woman place a finger to her lips.
Hush, hush.
"They'll ask questions. And they won't be happy about you."
He knew on the spot. Nothing he tried—the excuses, the pleading, any more attempts—would work.
After all, keeping secrets didn't matter in their new reality.
She gave a nod, silently telling him he could leave. Rusal almost tripped over in his starting sprint. But he never looked back and kept going, far away from the smouldering wrath of a woman in red. Maybe never to come back to the Junction again.
Everything Crane witnessed left a bitter taste in his mouth. This sort of threat? Something a bully would do, something he never expected Jack to do.
"Was that necessary?" Freakazoid asked with an almost demanding tone.
Jack merely glanced at him, but through the shades, it didn't seem like her eyes were on him. "If I didn't, he'd yap his mouth at Quasim."
She was right. Again, being right. It would be naïve of Crane to think that Rusal wouldn't tattletale about this on 'tamer' terms. But unless the other party held guns or knives at him, Crane wouldn't resort to it.
"Ready, Freakazoid?" Jack strolled to the open gate but didn't fully venture forward. "Let's go find our missing runner."
Her hand was on the gate as she waited for Freakazoid to come. Or he could sit this one out. The times Kyle stepped into any dark holes and tunnels seemed to scratch at his feral self to peer out.
But that was the least of his problems. It was Jack herself that was one...
Regardless, Crane entered the Mines, hearing the brunette shut the gate behind them. It made him think.
How far deep was he going to follow Jack without question?
"Careful. Heard this place is a maze."
The smell of salt was overwhelming to Crane's senses. It almost made it difficult to sense out anything else, even the smell of blood.
It was a pretty standard old mine; he once wandered into one as a kid visiting his grandparents' place. Old rail tracks, the sound of droplets hitting the stalagmites, and cobweb-covered hand-held tools.
The first thing Jack did upon entering the Mines was to kneel down to where she had found the branded bag. "Drag marks." She then went in the direction of those marks.
"It's a bit quiet." Crane had been hawking around for any Biter, any variant ready to snack on Jack from behind. "No infected around."
A point that Jack only took notice of. "Maybe they don't like this part of the Mines."
No. Crane still had the feeling he had previously every time they went somewhere dark and crampy. The feeling of home. Something had warded the infected away from this section.
The sound of rushing water could be heard. Loud and raging like a storm. Yet muffled as if behind many layers of rocks.
"Even after the storm's over, the aqueducts are still running," Jack pointed. "Roman engineering for you."
"...So. Are we not gonna talk about what happened?"
Jack's jaw clenched. She didn't like where this conversation went. The downside of a talking zombie. "What's there to talk about? Rusal looks like the quiet type."
"I mean the pickpocketing," Freakazoid pointed. "You knew he had the key all along."
That's it? "In this day and age? Who doesn't do a bit of pickpocketing?" she chimed. "You can't always go by with just honesty alone."
"Exactly what other skills did you pick?" he asked warily.
"Now that would be cheating. I can't give all my secrets, can I?" she jested.
Freakazoid made no comeback; he just held on with suspicion and continued listening. It was about a couple of feet in that he halted in his tracks, his ears picking up something under the roaring sound.
"I hear a generator."
Jack raised an eyebrow and tried to listen. The machines outside had been shut down since the Mines' closure, so it was doubtful anyone could ever be turned on even now.
Then this generator could have been brought down in the Mines recently.
Freakazoid took the lead in following the sound, with Jack behind. The deeper they ventured, the more the salt-scented, dust-covered scenery changed, with a few things that shouldn't have been down there.
"Someone's made themselves right at home."
First was the new electrical wires. The bright emergency lights hung on the walls. UV-flared too.
Then people.
"This is gonna take ages."
The two quickly and quietly sunk into their hiding places in the cave walls, watching men in orange move crates about and fix up new spotlights. Some stood on guard—just in case an infected snuck by.
"Why are we even down here? The damn equipment's too wet from that storm."
"Shut it," barked a prisoner. "We're replacing them anyway. Alexander wants every zone to be operating by tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? Didn't they say they wanted a new shipment already?"
"Shipment?" Crane murmured softly. More Antizin?
"If we get newcomers, just give them to the same screening team we sent that runner girl last week." Immediately, both the freak of nature and the brunette glanced at each other with baffled looks. "They got more room at the High School."
"What exactly are they looking for in these infected people?"
"We're all on a 'need to know' basis. And you need to know nothing."
In other words, no more information Jack could get from the random gossip.
"This is insane… Screening? Shipment?" Freakazoid muttered quietly, refusing to use his telepathic communication. "They're abducting people for what?"
"It's human trafficking."
His silver-blue eyes widened at Jack's sudden answer. A phrase he never thought he'd hear in a pandemic. A pandemic.
"What?"
"GRE's med crates. Testing for rabies. Separating the infected from the clean ones. It all lines up," Jack explained, unsettlingly amused at her own discovery. "With this outbreak around, they can grab anyone off the street. And after the screening…"
She snapped her fingers, trying to bridge Point A to B for the reason. It was a lot of work for a human trafficking ring, especially with the circumstances. And yet, these men, jailed for crimes ranging from being petty, merciless, and violent? Willingly going along with this scheme while balancing dangerously close to the virus.
That could mean they had nothing to lose or something worth gaining.
"Then what?" she asked herself.
"We have to stop this."
It was admirable to hear Freakazoid want to do that. Seemed like being a hero was in his nature, too difficult to switch off. But-
"Mate. This is just one base of operation. Might have been running for weeks."
Which meant anything they did now would barely make a dent. That frustrated Crane to the point of shaking fists.
"We can head over to this screening team they talked about. Find out more about this business of theirs," Jack offered. "The closest school has to be near the Skids. I know the way."
"That's not good enough," Freakazoid said. "This Alexander guy... We should be going after him."
Oh boy, Jack pondered. It wasn't just the hero act, Freakazoid also wanted to go after villains. Not only brainless thugs or G.I. Joes on the streets, but the ones who led the havoc and dismay for innocents.
Then again, he did tell her his long list of villains in one outburst during the storm. So was he the type to add more things to that list if he couldn't turn an eye away?
"Ahhh, ha-ha," she weakly chuckled. "That's a pretty bold and very dangerous statement to make. But let's start small before we go big."
"This isn't some bootleg smuggling ring. They're using people."
"I can see that," Jack exclaimed. "Weren't you going on about perseverance? You can't be telling them there's a Day Hunter in these caves."
"...Yeah. Alright."
Jack was ready to bolt quietly. One glance back told her that Freakazoid wouldn't follow for some reason. Particularly sulking on the spot. He made this a habit for some reason.
She rolled her eyes with a hushed sigh. Why did he make this so difficult? And when did she grow a soft spot?
"Alright. Fine. If it makes you happy." The brunette wrapped her mind on a plan. "We could make this place a little uninhabitable. That should slow things down."
Uninhabitable. Only way was to get infected around these dim parts. But the UV lights had to be turned off. Plus, they needed loud noises.
Freakazoid's silver eyes trailed down to a bundle of wires and cables snaking across the ground. He brought one of them up to the light for Jack to see. Most of them zip-tied and led further in the tunnels. Somewhere dry and ideal for a brand new generator.
Jack tilted her head with a light "hm", shining a wide grin at Freakazoid. They were on the same page.
"We need more paint for the corner street," hollered a convict. "The rain washed the sigils right off."
"Well, get on it then. Gotta keep spooking those civilians."
"Yeah, we have another problem. Saw some GRE snooping near those signs."
"And?"
"Cel doesn't want any dogs sniffing around."
"It'd be fine. Alexander got GRE roped around his finger. Besides, the only way mutts can learn is by being disciplined. With lead."
The convicts chuckled loudly, free of the fear that a Viral would hear their guffawing. Overconfident that the new UV lights would keep the infected at bay.
Then a loud, yet dying, hum resounded in the Mines, followed by immediate darkness. The lights flickered off.
"What the-?!"
"Hey! Are you insane? Turn the lights on!"
"Check it out," one calm convict ordered two lackeys. All because they were the closest to where the generator was.
"This better not be another Biter chewing the wires."
"Don't go getting lost. We've had a few guys go missing."
"Yeah, yeah."
The two armed men tracked along with the cables. Nothing looked torn while they continued the trail. Under the raging sound of water, the first thing that caught their attention was something electrical. Then sparks in the distance, where the generator was.
"Shit! It's busted."
"But it's brand new!"
As the prisoner got closer, the funneled light illuminated the jagged tears in the sides, and the end cords yanked out from the sockets.
"Hey!" Something sabotaged the gear! Did an infected get in?
"Holy-gah!"
The convict turned to the other guy sounding shocked, then injured. Did he see the infected that did this? But as he did so, he saw a faint color of red at where his friend stood—the toothy grin shining at him. The darkness hid the orange-suited body as it dropped to the ground in front of him, as well as the claws suddenly roping around the now-startled convict.
Snap went his neck like a twig. Just like his friend seconds before.
"That didn't go to plan," Jack chided, stepping away from the second dead thug. She folded her arms as she pondered. "We need to make noise some other way."
Crane pulled his scarf down. Never did he think he would do this—play more into the new body he dreaded, loathed, and despised. He had one foot through the door but one foot grounded inside. Like Jack told him before, he wasn't encouraged to act as an infected.
Only think like one.
He inhaled deeply.
And let out a roar.
"RRAAAGH!"
It echoed, violently bouncing against the stone. More echoes returned to the sender. Softer, then growing louder. The Mines stirred up restlessly deeper down the tunnels.
That helped.
What didn't help was Jack's puzzled look at him. Like that hadn't been what she had in mind.
"What? You wanted noise."
"Sure. I did. But sound doesn't travel far in caves."
Crane narrowed his eyes. Dumbfounded. That couldn't be right.
"Wha… It's a giant cave," he hollered, arms spread out. "Isn't sound supposed to be echoey down here?"
"You're inclined to think that. But that doesn't include the more confined areas," Jack corrected. "I've done caving once and got lost for a while. Not a fun moment when no one could hear you."
"So...what? We won't get a huge horde?" he snapped.
"Oh. We might get some," Jack explained. The sound of panic eventually echoed towards the two, as if announcing themselves. Sound made by man. "But we'll also be attracting the inmates too."
"Oh, son of a-!"
True to her word, the jailbirds ran away from the sounds of snarls far behind. But also ready and armed for the howl they heard ahead. Flashes of light danced across the walls, brighter and brighter to show...people were coming.
The one time he played the infected role, it backfired!
"Might as well roll with your plan. Let's make ourselves scarce, mate." To the opposite direction of the panicked, trigger-happy convicts. Away from the rising horde.
Crane wanted to curse. Their way back to the gate, though, was towards the noises. Now they had to venture into uncharted territory; there was no going back. Narrow, dark, linear paths that splintered into more—walking through those on one's feet could only get a human so far.
An infected? That was another story. A fish thrown back into the waters, swooshing through the Mines as easily as walking during the night.
"What's going on down here?!" another convict yelled.
Didn't help that the way forward had more humans than infected.
"Great. More goons," Crane grumbled.
"Look on the bright side. People could mean another exit."
"How are you able to find something positive in every worst-case scenario?"
"You see convicts as 'worst cases'?" She gave a light chuckle. "Doesn't do me good to be pessimistic all the time. Like a certain someone."
Crane frowned. "What's that supposed-"He tried to rebuke that question, but the woman in red leapt forward, weapon in hand and a glint in her eyes, for the carnage.
Around a corner, a man in crafted armor turned. It took a second for him to see the hooded figure—Crane—in the Mines. But much longer to realize a woman dropping down to the ground and immediately sending him into a roll with a pitch to the legs.
Tight spaces were one setback for a Day Hunter. Crane couldn't swing as freely and vigilantly as he did outside. But adaptation was the key. There had never been a moment where he couldn't change the tide to his favor.
"Gargh!"
The tunnels' walls made for short bursts. No human could react fast enough for a man bouncing off the walls, the bone blade suddenly materializing out of nowhere and into their body. One quick seize of the firearm before the trigger could be pulled. Crane quickly disarmed one convict from shooting.
Although the disarmament wasn't entirely done the usual way. A grip on the slide of the Glock and yanking it out of the hand made so much difference—comparing a human's strength to a Hunter's. It nearly took the inmate right off his feet, forward into the dirt.
Hey, he was without a weapon. Good enough in Crane's book.
"C'mon!" Jack hollered, waving him to keep going. But at this point, it felt like the blind leading the blind. Then vice versus.
They had to be further deeper into the Mines and closer to the tourist attractions of Roman architecture. Crane could only hear the harsh sound of rushing water growing louder every step they took.
"A way out would be nice right about now! Don't suppose you hear something above us?" Jack uttered
"I can't - the water's making it hard for me to hear anything!"
"Then water it is! Follow that sound!"
"What?"
"It's an aqueduct! It has to lead somewhere!"
Right! Like any pipe system—a better solution than nothing.
The tunnel became narrower, and rocks shaped into smoothed bricks. A few structures, protected by fencing, displayed the old past of Scanderoon once conquered by the Romans. A glittering shine danced off the ceiling, from gushing waters the two saw not far from them.
Reflection meant light. Light meant the sun.
More and more of the ancient channel came into view. They could go one way. Another way. But a light at the end of the tunnel became their immediate beacon. Their escape.
At least that was what they thought until the sight of an iron grate—surely placed here by the city. Jack's eyes flayed wide once her hands wrapped on the bars. She then kicked at it in frustration. Of course. It had to be a dead end.
But she didn't give up. The aqueducts had been built by men from the past, with little alteration by modern men—somewhere in the system, there had to be a solution or an exploit. Hurrying to her left, Jack peered into what looked like a damaged firebricked cistern, her feet pacing over spilled water. Far off looked like fences for the tourist route, a foreign shadow flickering from a darkened hall.
"Who are you?!" followed by, "AAAH!"
It was in seconds. A Viral lunged onto the man out of nowhere, right on the neck. The flashes from the bullets lit up the darkness a little and brought out more shininess from the hidden red eyes.
"Gaaargh!" Another hounded after Jack like an animal and reached its soiled hands out at her. "Grrr!"
All about timing and distance. The ex-kickboxer swung right to the face. Rotten teeth flew out, gone into the shadows. Down the Viral went, with Jack's weapon swinging again to smash its head open. A third Viral paraded to join in without awareness of the bone blade jabbing into their side. Crane booted the body away, hearing the slurping sound as his weapon slid off with ease.
All sorts of enemies came their way, or to another enemy. One of the humans, a thug, stumbled into the mess around them. For a brief moment, he spotted the man take one look at Crane before suddenly turning away. At something else in the tunnels.
"AHHH-!"
Thud!
Crane felt himself duck out of instinct before he glanced up. Like the impact nearly took him. It went by so fast, only catching a glimpse of that convict at the wrong place, wrong time. Something rammed into him with the force of a wrecking ball.
But...that thing wasn't as big as a Demolisher. What-
Crane didn't have time to think when the orange gaze locked on him. The usual display of dominance—get out. The split mandibles widened out from the roar before it sprinted madly towards Crane like a Brawler. It had to be a Brawler.
Tendrils fired and latched around the threatening monster's torso midway through the charge. A simple, hard pull directed the kinetic energy down a different path.
Thud!
The very iron grate shifted from the impact, with a few bars angled out of their sockets. The fierce charger, burned alive by the sudden burst of sunlight, yelled in agony. But the primal nature particularly shrugged the pain off. A few brushes of the claws shredded off burnt flakes.
It staggered back, looking more animalistic toward Crane than before.
"Freakazoid! Do that again!"
"Wh...What?"
"Smash it at the grate!"
Ok, he understood why. But Jack was asking a lot out of him!
Ravaged, the wild infected barreled towards Crane. Out of instinct, the Day Hunter dove left—the human side of him cautious to fight a dangerous enemy in close proximity. Bombers, infected with gas tanks, even a Demolisher weren't something to joke about.
Still, Kyle had an idea.
He fired the tendrils out of his arms, the weird biological workings shifting under his skin. Once he felt the tendrils grip at the ankles, Crane pulled with all his might.
It took a lot of his momentum, as well as slurping in some distance from his tendrils, so that the infected wouldn't hit a nearby wall. But that sent his opponent flying.
THUD!
Bricks crumbled down, with the grate torn off by the sheer brute force. And still, the bent bars wouldn't budge!
Moreover, his opponent didn't know how to quit! Despite Crane's best effort to toss it as hard as possible, it dug its nails into the walls to stop the force. Out from its lungs came another roar filled to the brim with rage.
Crane grimaced irritatedly. It really was hard to kill these things!
"Not enough!" Jack suddenly hollered right after she had clobbered in the head of a convict with the bluntness of her weapon. She took a running start.
"Jack!"
She literally had to put all her energy into her feet as she grabbed a broken bar thanks to the infected's tumble. A typical bar swing did make the monster stagger back, desperately trying to stop themselves from falling back. The force paled in comparison to the kind Freakazoid could pull.
CLANK!
The grate finally broke off from the weight of an infected's claw, disappearing with a faraway splash. The freak didn't go along with it, however. Rays sizzled on its back, prompting it to scream and cower forward.
The eyes plastered on Jack. It'd kill her. It wouldn't let go of the crate.
"Here," Jack hollered."Let me help you!"
Off the bars she fell off, Jack gave one small hook kick at the abdomen and again, it stumbled into full-blown light. The infected slapped at the mild scorching across their body before it lost its footing at the edge of the aqueduct.
Down, down, crack! It didn't end like the grate hitting the water surface.
"Go! Now!"
Jack didn't need to tell Crane twice. Even against the antagonizing sunlight, the one thing he had welcomed many times as a human, he sprinted into the light.
Crane felt his skin bubble, sizzle and burn mildly. But he was all too focused to learn where they were out of an old aqueduct. They were high up over a large river, where the banks were lined with mosaic bricks, shambled-looking decorative plants, and walking corpses.
Jack ran straight to the edge, and Freakazoid followed.
They jumped. Legs straight to the water.
SPLOOSH!
From hot to cold in seconds. He would be lying to himself if he didn't think it was ironically refreshing, given their changing circumstances. However, the cool water didn't completely conceal Crane from the sunlight burning his skin like he had hoped it would. The color red caught his attention enough to make him swim towards land, and he did until his feet could feel the bottom.
He gasped loudly. He was relieved. Glad! From a stuffy salt cave to freshwater-scented air. It felt rejuvenating, like the human side of him taking more of a stand. A tighter grasp on his humanity.
Jack, close to the shore, spat out the river taste while she examined their new surroundings.
Far off in the distance, where the aqueduct went on and into the edge of the land, were the old ruins Jack recalled from visiting Scanderoon back in the days. Locals called it the Baias Castle—just in the outstretch of the Coastline.
Her eyes trailed down to the cityscape-stacked horizon. Right ahead of them were the Skids, the residental district of Scanderoon she had talked about.
"See?" Jack quickly and tiredly pointed towards a particular school building in the distance. "Told ya I knew the way."
"Yeah. You could have told me it took an aqueduct to get here!"
"Hey. Sometimes you just need to take a different route for a little thrill."
Thrill. Right. How had the laughing woman stayed alive for this long?!
Only good thing was that the water was shallow. But the ground below was mud. The brunette took a staggering trot towards the shore before ending with catching her breath—mixed with her girth. How many times had she gone into the water now, she thought to herself. Three?
As she straightened herself up from her rest, Freakazoid made it to the shore. Pointlessly whipping the wetness off himself before he trailed his eyes to one scene near the pillar of the aqueduct.
Now under the bright sun, they had a clearer view. The freak was surely dead. Its spine had been contorted at the edge of a concrete platform. Right in the middle. There were the typical signs of an infected: boils, pulsating veins, the split lower jaw and bone spurs.
However, out of the many infected Jack had come across, none had a sort of black chitin material on its arms and legs. Root-like. Twisted vilely.
"That's not a pretty sight. Ever seen this before?" she asked while she examined the body closer. Hands draping carefully over skin like a mortician.
"No. First time I've ever seen this," he muttered absentmindedly, not noticing Jack's passing gaze at him.
It was something new. New meant something bad to Crane. The substance looked foreign and natural at the same time, melding out of bone and hardened skin like a branch. But the burns made it difficult to tell what he was looking at.
In fact, the substance looked similar to the chitin plating and ridges on his skin...
Thinking about it, he was reminded of what Jack had told him. The idea of natural viral evolution didn't seem so outrageous right now.
And there were the rags. Infected locals of Scanderoon weren't as different as those in Harran. Normal clothes, shirts, pants, or any sort of cloth had been weathered down as their owners went wherever they wanted. But some of these rags he saw on this infected… How could he put it?
It didn't look like it was made from polyester or commercial cotton. Not by machine but through traditional, old-fashioned ways. Whatever dye they used for the patterns and lines had worn away, with scraps of gold left behind.
The water splashing made Crane snap from his thoughts, watching Jack climb away from her suspect on the slab.
"Pity it's dead. Could have been a Candidate."
Jack didn't sound convincing to him with that sentence. It was as if what she saw was something unknown, something dangerous to test on—having the whole test on Ercan in the first place.
Would her poison perk work on something so new she hadn't come across before?
"C'mon. We got a school to check," she ushered the conversation to their main goal. Her way of not dwindling on distractions if they couldn't serve their cause. Crane did linger back, staring at the corpse.
Did he expect it to rise back up like a zombie? To do something behind his back?
That's just stupid. The infected were men turned crazy from a strain of rabies, mutated into monsters. They weren't like in the movies.
Crane shoved that silly idea away and went after Jack, out of the river and down the street they found themselves on.
Well, up the street. High from the snappers and faster than on the ground. But within a certain pace, he didn't outrun his 'tour guide'. If anything, the brunette was improving in her steps. Balancing on fences and vaulting up 10-foot-high walls; the basics of a parkour athlete.
Then more orange skeletons materialized in his vision. One by one. Arms held above the waist—weapons in possession.
He picked up the speed—to relay what they were dealing with to Jack. But the closer he got, the more he felt uncomfortable. Crane tried to shrug it off. Why did he feel this way, now of all times?
His pace slowed to a walk as he vaulted down into the main street and got closer to the school, seeing the courtyard wall be covered with weathered-down school posters. It lost all its charm, even the vibrant pastel-colored stone fencing couldn't help. The place had been turned into an evac in the past like City Hall. So the jailbirds decided this was a good ideal spot to lock up people.
The more he stared at the building, however, the more he heard some...sort of ringing in his ear.
Something flashed, nearly making him unsteady. Sick. The memory replayed around him. All of this was familiar. The school. The men with guns.
Someone had been with him before.
Crane felt himself smothered. A blink was all it took for him to return back to the present. However, he still felt numb that he tried to get away. But his feet could only take a step back.
Out of the blues, he felt his world shift. His control was gone for a second, and his legs were pushed down. Close up to Jack behind a car parked on the other side of the street. One gloved hand clasped over his mouth.
"Shhh." She placed a finger on her lips, the whisper so soft a mouse could hear it.
A truck drove down the street, passing the car. One orange skeleton was in the driver seat. And he thought he saw a blob of orange but it went by so fast. His attention was all too focused on one thing that suddenly snuck quickly to another vehicle, burnt to a crisp.
No. He had to stop himself. That was a flashback.
Right, he had done this before. It happened outside a school. When Jack hushed him calmly, it pulled a vivid memory from Crane's mind. And the guilt crept inside him, a little different and more painful than that for Ercan.
And when Jack turned away, her back looked awfully similar to that of someone he knew.
Crane ran after her. Literally without thinking. Like a breeze that luckily, no one saw or heard.
What was wrong with him? He tried to control it. Stop this numbness. Kyle barely registered Jack peeking around the corner and the sound of more convicts around them.
"Keep it going," a brute ordered, hands waving back and forth in the air for another truck to escape out of the perimeter. And off it drove off to who knew where, first passing the car they hid.
Jack peered again, eyes behind shades attentively surveying the situation.
Like someone he once knew.
The terrible sinking bubbled up inside his guts. All of this was too familiar. Too painful.
No. Come back. It wasn't safe.
But his inner voice and real voice couldn't come out.
"Wait, Jad-"
"What are you doing?!" The heavy-accented whisper was strong enough to break the illusion.
Right on the spot, Crane found himself with a claw clutched to Jack's wrist and looking at an annoyed face.
Right. That was Jack.
Not Jade.
Not her.
"Now's not the time to have cold feet," she murmured urgently, feeling the grip loosen so she yanked her hand free.
Crane breathed. In and out a little too rapidly but the brunette didn't pick up on it. Her focus was on their surrounding predicaments.
What was wrong with him?
He felt a tap on the shoulder. Jack pointed a thumb at an empty back alley, out of a crook's peripheral vision. Cover for them until they would decide on a plan.
"How bad does it look inside?" Jack asked once they were far away from wandering ears.
"...Courtyard's full of men with guns. Top floors too."
"...They must be keeping them somewhere deeper. Maybe a basement." Jack scanned the top, as far as she could see. Undoubtedly, the roof had to have a door into the building. "We'll have to work our way down."
Silence wavered her to glance at Freakazoid, noticing a rather strange stern look on him. The silver blue eyes seemed to say something to her—as if the monster standing beside her was filing through memories in his head.
"You feeling alright, mate?"
Crane flinched, turning to the brunette. But the white lie slipped out of him as smoothly as he had said others in the past.
"I'm fine."
And of course, Jack didn't buy it. She then held up her hand, out her wrist to him. "Need another bite?"
"I'm fine." Again, Freakazoid reinforced it. A tone saying he wasn't a child. He could handle this.
"Just making sure." Out of concern or otherwise? "Divide and conquer. Like the Museum. We'll be able to find those missing people faster."
The nervousness in Freakazoid didn't fade away. In fact, it doubled when Jack said that. Something she would have said. A ghost of the past standing beside him, suggesting tactics. Crane swallowed hard, biting hard on his lower lip.
"Mate, are you really all right? You're out of it again."
"I heard you the first time," he persisted. "We find other ways in the school. Less noise, less commotion. Find that Antizin."
"Antizin?" Jack uttered, immediately taken aback by the sudden proposal. Did she miss something that Freakazoid saw, she wondered. "I suppose they'd have a stash somewhere but we can't be adding more to the list."
He stayed silent, but he had already realized his mistake. Why did he say that out of nowhere? Out of context?
His head was mixing things around—the past with the present. Stop it, he told himself.
He shook his head. Get his head back into the game. "It's nothing. Let's get going."
Freakazoid trotted off. Fast so that the chatterbox couldn't catch him in another verbal trap. No more of the weird stuff he has been feeling since approaching the school. He had to focus—lives were on the line.
However, he didn't see the prying eyes and the knitted brows behind the shades, Jack's gaze locked on his back until he disappeared over the wall.
Why did his nothing mean something after all that?
Jack could only sigh. She turned to her part of the wall, swished up and over it in no time flat. No guards on the other side but one or two stragglers stuck in a closed-off section.
Hmm, that window on that second floor… Someone forgot to shut it during a zombie pandemic.
How careless of them.
A/N: 23/7/2021
HELLO ALL! I've FINALLY updated with a NEW CHAPTER! It took a while, mostly to draft and brainstorm out my plot from previous chapters. But I've finally finished! With a lot of turns and twists, even directions I like! Which I think some of you are noticing. It'll be interesting writing on Crane dealing old and new problems since he is the main protagonist. This is about him so rightfully, I should be tackling a few deep topics.
On another note, I've been going back and forth about where I want my first arc's plot to go and with DL2 towards the end of the year, I'm making plans to finish this arc before then. That way, I can close the book on what had been my original aim mostly for the first arc and also maybe give way to being influenced from DL2 for the later arcs. It could help me a lot more in constructing later plots with maybe some clever ideas of connecting DL1 to DL2 (like making a missing link, which I'm not too sure myself what to expect in creating such ideas). That said, my aim will be writing up to supposedly chapter Twenty-Four, as my final chapter for Arc One, and before December, DL2's release date.
Btw, this does not mean it'll be the end of the whole book. It's too much fun and enjoyable to close after just one arc. I've come this far and there are a lot more things yet to reveal surrounding not just DL1 characters but the original characters I made for this world. So chin up and look forward to what's to come.
I hope you'll enjoy this chapter! And BTW, if you guys are intestered in physiology and science within video games or movies, I wanna recommend Roanoke Gaming on Youtube. His channel has been a great inspiration for me in building further into the circumstances in Descent (fun fact, the cave detail is something I learned in his video about the creature in Quiet Place 2, something I didn't know about echos.) He talks about Dead Space and the many types, which I recommend those videos a lot, monsters from Resident Evil, even movies like the Tremors series! And a lot of what he discusses give very interesting insights and thoughts on real-world viruses/bacteria, how biology can play a factor behind the nightmares we see in mediums and many more! He has also talked about Dying Light in a few of his videos. I cannot stress to you how much I enjoy his vids and how much it has really helped my writing too!
Another fun fact that I should edit a bit in one early chapter, something I learned from his channel. Silencers actually don't fully muffle a gunshot, so using such devices in a middle of a horde with average human hearing is still not ideal to use them. Who knew. Anyhow, enough me geeking! Check out his channel and he also has another channel Roanoke Tales where he tells chilly scary stories to ya. Honestly do check them out, his voice is awesome on both to listen the science part and the reading part!
Ok, I've rambled enough. Nite all! I'll post the tumblr post about this chp tmr. zzzzzzz
23/7/2021 - Fixed edits and lines.
31/7/2021 - Removed a deleted line and made edits.
20/10/2021 - Fixed dialogue and made edits.
25/10/2021 - Fixed lines and added new dialogue between Geyong and Jack.
10/3/22 - Went over a full chapter edit with some fixes, retwists, deletes and adjustments.
29/6/22 - Fixed lines/dialogue and minor edits.
18/1/24 - Final fixes and changes, I hope