Chapter Summary
- BACK TO SCHOOL
Alexander's lackeys have been busy with a school building. Something about keeping kidnapped folks for the time being. But this doesn't look like a 'small' base of operation. They're up to something and it doesn't help that Freakazoid's a bit jittery about going inside. He's been acting strange since I said it could be human trafficking. - Jack
TWENTY-ONE: A CRUEL REMINDER
Seeing the brown desks, worn bulletin boards, and empty lockers around him…felt uncanny to Crane. But with slight differences for a vocational high school. It was like he had never left his past. He never turned into a monster. Kyle was still the same liar, trapped forever in time.
And then there were the men patrolling the hallways. Sure, they were heavy hitters, but their attire wasn't yellow and black. Rais' men were indeed the definition of murderous hornets, but these crooks following someone's orders? Same deal.
Luckily, the floor he was on had no guard on duty. They were all downstairs, as far as his x-ray vision could see. The unsettling feeling wouldn't leave him alone the further he crept in.
Every glance into a classroom prompted him to shake the uncomfortable feeling off his shoulders and quicken his pace. Focus on the task.
"-What a pain. They never said anything about the science lab."
Crane halted on the spot, ducking into the shadows. He glanced down the hall.
The voice came from downstairs. Followed by another.
"Nothing we can do about it. Management's shitty from the start."
"Let's get this done and clear out. This place gives me the creeps."
"Yeah."
The footsteps shuffled louder and louder in Crane's hypersensitive ears. Fine. They were coming in his direction, whether he liked it or not.
He grabbed the nearest thing: an eraser from the whiteboard...
Thud!
"Do you hear something?"
The first voice came closer. One bulky man climbed a set of stairs before turning to his right, hands gripped tight on his firearm. He strolled into a blind spot.
At the corner of his eyes, he swore he saw something-
"So? What was it?" his friend asked. "...Hey."
Nothing. The silence made it all the more creepy, goosebumps snaking across his skin—he was in a dark, spooky, abandoned school. If a damn zombie showed up inside, he would never forgive his cellmate.
"Hey! What's the holdup?"
When he reached the top, it became a scene he had seen many times in movies. He never thought he'd see it in real life. The unfortunate man, holding out his handgun. A creepy, mutated claw lashed onto the barrel, thumb in the way to stop the trigger from going off. The cold, inhuman blue eyes glistened at him in the darkness. The thing wheeled away from the fresh corpse of his dead cellmate and towards him.
"Shit-!"
It happened in seconds. He had been told to radio in if an infected had snuck in. But in his fear, he tried to fire. Shoot first, then call in! But he had already lost that chance to react the moment his gun was seized.
He felt some sort of knife stab into his abdomen. Right at the vitals, he never realized he was already dead.
The prisoner slumped down, but Crane quickly caught the body by the arm before it could make a loud noise—just in case there weren't any other guards. With the problem settled, he laid the corpse down and continued onward.
"You'd think after a blackout, these thugs would have the lights on."
Just like that, a swing to dull down the tension, Jack spoke up on the line. Which meant she had already checked the lower floors and left a few bodies around. The definition of 'sneaking' really did go over her head, that it exasperated him.
Crane turned to a boarded window, seeing the parking lot and main entrance through the gaps. A no-go zone to go to, packed with armed convicts. One disturbance could spell disaster.
And he knew in his gut, Jack would do something to trigger it.
"You're not afraid of a little dark?" he scoffed.
"A little cheap of a blow, wouldn't you say?" she chided back. "If anything, I'm more afraid these one-tone motivational speeches here."
From the sound of it, something distracted her. Maybe on the wall, a line he once read back in his high school days.
Then again, he never liked some of those quotes.
"...Is this what these kids are taught nowadays? "
"C'mon. You were in high school once."
She chuckled—she saw what he did there so she wouldn't step onto the trap. "Everyone had their own share of growing up pains," she pointed nonchalantly. "I'm sure you've had fun times yourself. A jock in the football team? Quarterback?"
He frowned. What was she insinuating? He huffed aloud. "Running track. Actually." How about he turned this on her instead? "I take it you also took a sport back then?"
"I could have," she danced on her words. "Extracurricular is all about enriching the mind and body. Making friends. Putting on a show for the crowds. Or you get bored and go look for some drama elsewhere."
"You took theater club, didn't you?"
All he got was a soft snicker. "Could have made it to Broadway if I tried."
A lie or some truth? Which was it?! But he stopped himself and moved on. He could hear more movement in the halls the further he ventured.
"They got a lot of men patrolling this school," he warned, spying on some with his special eyesight.
"They are kidnapping people for a reason. Has to be a trail somewhere in this dank building."
"Hey, we can't make noise," he reminded her.
"My name is Mad Jack. But even I have some restraint," she said.
"Right. You keep wearing your namesake like a badge."
"That just means I can get the 'right fans' coming my way."
What did she mean by that?
But what she said about the convicts did bother Crane. Anyone would think people locked behind bars would embrace freedom—take matters into their own hands or try to escape this city. And yet, as crazy as it sounded, they were convinced to stay together and build something, adding the operation under their belt.
There was a goal he couldn't see, and the longer he didn't know, the more he grew frustrated...
Wait. They were taking blood samples. Wouldn't they need some place sterilized?
Kyle then searched for a map near the staircase. It was a school, right? Had to be like one of the buildings when he went to high school himself.
So it had to have that one kind of room.
But boy, did that bring back memories he wanted to stay buried. Sheer mental strength helped him suppress them back as he made his way down to the first floor. No sign of crossing paths with Jack; she could have wandered off somewhere. That could be bad—he didn't buy her 'sense of control' after the number of bullshit she pulled off before.
He spotted the room sign, and much to his dismay, the door ajar. The stench of disinfectant was terribly strong, even from a narrow gap.
No sight of orange skeletons behind walls, but that didn't prompt Crane to cautiously reach for the door handle and give it a gentle push.
Empty. Did he really expect otherwise? Regardless, he combed the room, passing by the cots and spying signs of activity. Right under an office desk, Crane could see the familiar color of a GRE med-crate.
"I found their screening rooms," he messaged Jack. "The nurse's office."
"Now why didn't I think that?" he heard her hum. Not too sure if it was legit or out of sarcasm. Or both. "Any sign of their captives?"
"They used to be here." His eyes trailed down to a bundle of blood-soaked rags on a bedside drawer. Then to the GRE med-crate he reached out to. "Found another med-crate. Empty."
Then he realized something. Again, Crane gave the room a once-over.
"...I don't see any of those rabies kits around." He climbed up onto his feet, now having a much better look of the sickbay. "Hey. Was this place used for a quarantine zone?"
"I'd imagine so. Why?"
He didn't think about it at first. He then thought he might have missed it. No, he did see the contradictions. The sickbay was built up for the injured; sleeping beds laid on the floor to accommodate the number. And yet, it was missing a lot more.
"There aren't any relief supplies. No medkits. No supplies. Not even a bottle of painkillers."
"...You know. Now that you mentioned it, I don't see any food, water or clothes for that matter. Like they cleaned house."
Crane hopped back, head sticking out of the door. Yup. There were far too few crates for a quarantine zone. The last remaining ones, placed right by the stairs.
Something about that gnawed at his guts.
"Think these guys took them?"
"We had a blackout. Easiest way to get loot without lifting a finger."
Crane grimaced. Nothing new to him; one man's trash was another man's treasure. But the fact that he was in the middle of a huge hoarding on stuff others could benefit… What was next? These scumbags were making a profit out of casualties?
"Which means those prisoners really did turn off the city's power."
That thought surprised him. He heard that all right.
"You're telling me... That power outage was intentional?"
"Isn't it too convenient that a storm blacked out an entire city? Or Alexander sending his men to camp at the dam?"
He slowly digested as he paced about. Growing angrier. Frustrated.
"Bastards…" Crane spat with a shaking fist. Now he really wished he hadn't killed those two men. It would have been better to string any info out of them and then give them twice the pain. "They're criminals but...I didn't think they'd take it that far."
"They probably didn't." The reply caught him by surprise. But he listened. "People locked up behind bars would want freedom. Far away from all this."
"...But they're staying."
"For something more worthwhile than their lives. The loot is just a bonus."
"Jesus… It's gotta be something big if they're that crazy to stick around."
"That's why we're here. Uncover whatever dastardly deed they got behind this whole operation."
He frowned at the reminder; the brunette still believed he would wander off and forget their objective. He walked right into that one. But the agreement still stood: divide and conquer.
So why did it feel like this woman drove him into a corner every time she laid out the plans?
And the incident back at the Mines…
"It's your words against mine!"
Even behind that toothy grin of hers, Crane could tell she hid something wrathful towards that line. Something could have exploded. That Rusul man might end up with a fate worse than being held over a pit. It also unnerved Crane that Jack seemed...more thrilled than usual.
Was that what Jack's leader meant by her going berserk? That side Jack showed could have been a fraction of what she could really do if unhinged?
Forget it. They had other things to concentrate on. Those two men from before did say 'science lab' for a reason. He decided to check that first, just to be sure, before moving on.
That was what Kyle thought. It should have taken five minutes of search time. But when he found the room in question and opened the door, the first thing he saw stopped him—a clear-white tarp being a divider. That's something a school shouldn't have.
The chemical smells wafted powerfully once he pushed his way in. Definitely, everything inside the science room were somethings a school shouldn't have.
The whole room had been turned into a laboratory. Medical garbs, hazmat suits and gloves hung on one side while rows upon rows of bottles lined up on the tables. Computers, charts, graphs, microscopes and apparatus.
Everything in the room was also new. Way before the dust collected on the sleeping bags in the sickbay.
Could this have been another GRE setup? Maybe similar to Camden's lab back in Harran.
Why did Crane have a bad feeling about all this?
He took a peek at some papers by the table. No good. Mambo-jumbo to him. However, he pushed forward to a laptop's shattered screen - nonstop flashing, probably having been left on even before the blackout.
Yup. GRE from the looks of it. It even had a standard, encrypted and private email system with that annoying name tagged to it. He tried to give it a skim but it looked like the familiar corporate jargon.
Then he noticed one line of the message that made him back away from the laptop.
"...'Countryside Variant'?"
"Found something, Freakazoid?"
Jack's voice caught him by surprise. Might as well roll with it.
"Yeah. Found the science lab," he said. "Whole room's stacked with all sorts of equipment."
"What kind of equipment?"
"The kind you're looking deeper into the virus."
"Hm… Doubt these guys have the brains to put something like that together."
"No. This place used to belong to GRE before they abandoned it."
"And now their new 'employees' are doing a bit of pickpocketing behind their backs."
"There's also a working laptop and an email… This makes no sense."
"What doesn't?"
Shit. He had wished he hadn't blabbered that out. "Uh. The email," he lied. "Can't make heads or tails out of it."
"You can already guess what that email's all about. Why build a high-tech lab inside a quarantined city?"
"...To make a vaccine."
A pause, as if she nodded over the radio. "There was talk about a cure being developed. But it suddenly went radio-silent after GRE fell from grace."
She had to be referring to the stolen file Rais took. Not like it could have been kept as a secret towards the end.
"Guess they're taking the extremes to make this cure."
"Heh," Kyle weakly laughed. "...You sure about that? They could have lost it."
"A cure to the Harran Virus? GRE must have very weak security to lose something like that," Jack crackled. "Though...I'm surprised they're still trying to make a vaccine after their whole downfall."
That meant they were real desperate. Something Crane didn't like.
"They're doing it to save face."
"Oh, definitely. They hit rock-bottom. So they're pulling all the stops."
This time, Crane took off his comms. Just for this one time. Because his guts told him to check. GRE didn't have the file. He gave it to Camden.
And he read that email—the sender asking if this 'variant' could really work. Saying that the files from the Countryside were already a deadend.
What files from the Countryside?
His bad feeling grew worse in the pit of his stomach. Immediately, he gazed at the one part of the room he had noticed earlier but dismissed.
Please be wrong.
Three mini fridges had been stacked together, cables to a small generator and not to the wall outlets. Didn't seem out of place at first if the room was a make-shift laboratory. Two doors opened, and the insides, empty. But the third one? A tiny gap, with a brush of cold air on the floor.
The color of glowing blue ushered him to hold his breath. He yanked so hard, so horrified, that he heard glass knock each other.
"No…"
His instinct was spot on. He nearly stumbled back, his claw reaching for anything to hold himself up.
Blue vials.
"No."
Not just three bottles... It was a stack. A reality.
It couldn't be. There's no way-
"-Freakazoid."
Crane nearly panicked. Nearly fumbled with his comms. "Y-Yeah?"
"Found some civilians downstairs."
His fear nearly suffocated him that he had to swallow. All he could do was stare fixated on the contents, too engrossed that any good news couldn't ease his mind.
"Freakazoid?"
"Are they ok?" he tried to get the conversation rolling. Get his mind off the fridge. "They know what's going on here?"
"Already dead…" Again, he had been too hopeful too quickly. Inevitable in the end. "Sick bastards used the basketball court as a dumping zone. Bleh." He then heard some shuffling on the line. "Needle marks on the neck. Same thing they did on Esme… And this is new."
"What is?"
"Each of them also has a needle mark on the arm," she explained. "They might have already moved on to human experimentation."
Terror wrecked Crane from the inside. Immediately, his legs moved on their own - backing away from the fridge like it had a rancid, unbearable thing of filth inside.
Oh god no.
He bit his lip hard to stop his rapid breathing from slipping into the comms.
"From the looks of things, they weren't too happy with the results… Bloody hell, they didn't need to desecrate these corpses."
He inhaled a deep breath. Stay calm. "What now?"
"Now? I know you want to be cured as quick as possible. But I don't trust putting anything into me unless I'm told it's the real deal." For once, Crane felt relieved at the rational response. "Bones might have a better idea if we get a sample."
"What?" he blurted it out. No, no, no. She didn't know. She couldn't find out! "T-That...that's not a very good idea."
"I agree. That doesn't mean we can ignore it. Better than leaving a cure in the hands of GRE. Did you see any intact vials?"
Oh. He definitely found some.
"Nothing... Just papers and empty tubes."
"GRE must have already taken it then. Or the prisoners... We'll just stick to finding those hostages."
"Got it."
He said that too quickly, but it didn't matter. That was the end of the conversation. Good.
Whatever he saw in the fridge? It wasn't the same as those blue vials he had before. The color of the liquid...it was different. Yeah. He most certainly remembered exactly how those vials looked when he first picked them up with his own fingers. That was why he lied to Jack—about the email, the research, the vials. She couldn't know.
Whatever those things in the fridge were...
It wasn't a cure.
Crane grabbed the rack—seventy-two tubes labeled and sealed. Seventy-two victims if they got their hands on these vials. Without any hesitation, he hurled them to the sink. Right in.
Thud-crack-kak! Crack!
Glass shattered and blue liquid splattered, flowing down the basin. Another shake of the rack before a hard throw for good measure.
Until every last drop was gone.
Crane didn't care if this could be a cure. Camden had one in the works. This he found...it was a fake. A failure.
"This is a poison."
No one needed to know this solution existed.
Nobody would ever find out.
Jack could hold it in, having to tolerate the smell. Her mind was all too occupied with the empty vial she picked up from the ground; near a few corpses piled by the back door. The scene already depicted exactly what happened—forceful injection on the victims before they were dumped out in the field.
Which meant this variant was fresh. GRE hadn't moved on to mass-manufacturing into small bottles like Antizin. Of course, how could they prove to the world that their 'vaccine' could be the key? Jack already knew how. A lot of money under the table and getting the right people were all GRE needed to sell it, especially in these dire times.
But why the necessary gunfire?
When she told Freakazoid they desecrated the bodies, they really did a number on these poor souls. Fatal gun wounds to the head—as if they wanted to make sure these people stayed dead.
Something about this 'human-testing' irked her terribly: they captured infected people off the streets, put them through involuntary trials, and gunned down a number of them.
...Did their test subjects try to flee?
All of it was...a strange roundabout way of making a cure. Either GRE didn't want a working vaccine or they didn't like the results.
She examined the same corpse again. Headshot wound, clean mercy kill. Same needle marks on neck and arm. Bloodshot eyes, gray skin, pulsating veins, all the starting signs of a Biter.
Perhaps they were already turning by the time they were brought for the test. So positively, GRE ended the test right there and then, especially seeing how the familiar black chitin material had started to form at the fingertips.
Funny, she thought to herself. She had asked Freakazoid if he had ever seen this before. Back at the river. So when she glanced back at him as he answered her question—that he hadn't seen anything like that…
Freakazoid's mutations seemed to fit some of the bill, the more she compared him to that new type.
A dull shriek snapped her from her thoughts and drew her carefully to the doors. She had already peeked through the window, seeing more corpse piles on the basketball court.
It became a feeding ground for the infected. A dash n' dine as she watched a Biter snack on a poor sob's arm.
Cannibalism wasn't unheard of among the infected. However, now that she thought about it, had she ever seen the Biters and Virals eat dead carcasses?
"They're like vultures now… This is certainly new," she whispered to herself.
Jack turned away and continued her search down the hall, with half of the school yet to explore. The discoveries so far had piqued both her interest and her uneasiness more—what other shady things did GRE hide that Alexander's men had uncovered?
Alexander had to know about this. That thought alone made her extremely wary.
"No sign of anyone. Other than more inmates," she heard Freakazoid speak up with an odd aftertone. He was shaken for some reason. And from past experience, he would probably try to deflect the conversation if she were to point that out.
"Giving up, are we? There's still the other wing to go through."
"No. But...you said they were cleaning house. Doesn't that mean they're abandoning this place?"
"Astute observation," she chided. "So they'll need a big holding place for their hostages in the meantime."
Passing by a map, she glanced quickly at the printed names.
"There's the gymnasium and the cafeteria. Enough for twenty, thirty people."
Jack waited patiently for the retort, the disagreement, or the otherwise-remark. At least, Freakazoid still held his head and didn't charge off mindlessly like some hero.
"I can take the cafeteria."
That was on the other side of the school, opposite where she headed. "Gym's mine then."
It seemed simple, as long as she avoided some of the rooms. The blackout certainly brought more than just guests in orange suits and handcrafted armor. Some places were blocked off; she could hear the low groans and feet sluggishly moving behind walls.
It wasn't a straight path looking for her destination. And the moment she found the gym's main entrance, it was barricaded. She glanced through the planks to spy just how much space the place had, taking up two floors.
Inside, though, were a few stiff Biters.
"Bzzt-zzzt!"
An odd but soft static hit her earpiece that forced her to take it out of her ear. Was something picking up on the comms?
"Where is this coming from?"
"Is everything-zzt-ok?" Freakazoid asked.
"Just getting some interference. Don't mind me."
Doubtfully, he heard all that. Jack pressed on, noticing that the closer she got to the second floor, the clearer the white noise became. What on earth was in this school to make that?
Already, finding the origin of the muffled electric sound was tricky with the floor turned into a maze, all cut-off points between areas and blocked classrooms here and there. The auditory trail eventually led her to the PA room.
She let herself in easily, surprised to find another scene.
Someone had turned the PA system room into a GRE-special room, adding things a school shouldn't have. Most of all, the military stuff reminded her of the setup in the clock tower. Jack brushed a finger over one piece of equipment, seeing exactly how much dust had piled up.
Almost clean on her finger.
So the very culprit was one of the machines, the signal was still on. The static had softened for the moment. Maybe whatever had picked up on that end just stopped. And next to those gizmos were the usual PA equipment. Wireless, from what she understood at first glance.
She then combed about for the clues GRE's filthy fingers left behind.
"Nope. No Antizin," she mumbled to herself. Just to entertain Freakazoid a bit before moving on to more actual, worthy pieces of information.
A thin book looked more important than the rest of the items on the table. At first glance, dates, times, and words had been jotted down. Skimming through a few pages helped her narrow down the details.
"Tuesday, 1400. Junction, no new dialogue. Irrelevant. Wednesday, 1800. Orphanage discussed with the Junction about missing squad. Irrelevant. Saturday, 0700. Town Hall reported strange noises at night. Irrelevant again…" She flipped a few pages, soon delighted on the next few sentences. "'Woman in red' this, 'Woman in red' that. My, my, a famous celebrity walks into town and they become a persistent bunch."
"Jack," Freakazoid messaged over the comms, the voice a little broken from the interference. But she wore back her earpiece and listened. "I found them. The hostages. They're keeping them in the cafeteria."
Finally, some good news.
"See? I told you they'd hold them somewhere big in this school." All she got was an audible groan.
"They also got the supply boxes. Particularly running shipment here."
"Alexander really hit a gold mine with this one." Unfortunately for her, there were no other windows; if she had to guess, they had vehicles outside for transport. Her wandering gaze fell back to the book in hand. "Wouldn't put past them to have another base somewhere else just to move things around."
She turned to the next page, the last entry from the looks of it. The ink was recent. And the line made little sense.
Two new individuals from an unknown group. Originated from the Outskirts based on conversation. Making base in Scanderoon and using codewords. Mentioned third individual.
Awaiting orders to locate and apprehend them for info. Group may know where rogue operator is.
That made Jack narrow her eyes, looking greatly displeased. And the date...wasn't that the day she met up with Ender and Riza?
A gut feeling told her to skim back. Now she saw the common keyword that she couldn't help but blur out to herself.
"What's this rogue agent they're talking about..."
"Uh, Jack? They also got...plastic explosives."
Hearing that, she couldn't help but have an expression of surprise. Then annoyance.
"Explosives. Of course. What else doesn't GRE have in this school."
"This is a fucking joke."
"Focus, Freakazoid." Why was he this exasperated all of a sudden? "We got them in the act. Now we need to follow their tracks."
"You- " he started. "You're not planning to use these people?!"
"Do you plan on rescuing them? Just the two of us?" Jack stated calmly. "And how about the rest of the captives? They're still at who knows where in this city."
"I'm not risking lives in any more danger," Freakazoid hissed.
She shook her head disappointedly. "Bloody oaf, use your head. They'll gun them down to make things easy on themselves."
This time, quiet. At least he had some sense to realize his plan was too bold for the current situation. He couldn't save everyone.
"We need their location. And we need a plan." No argument back. "The only thing you can do for those folk is make yourself scarce. Unless you want to play the monster again and give them cronies a fright of their lives."
"...That's not a bad idea."
Was this a joke? Was he actually joking? She did like that, but also, here and now of all places?!
"Now you listen here," she began. Oh, oh, she wasn't going to be roped in thanks to this idiot-!
"Bzzt-zzt-how much farther-zzt-zzt."
She immediately wheeled back to GRE's machines.
"Talo?"
That was definitely his voice she heard through the static, back in the PA room. Wait. Why would she hear it in a place like this?
"Jack-zzt-ss-what's wrong-zzt," the interference worsened, muffling Freakazoid's voice.
Later. She turned her attention to the equipment. More broken words echoed from the speakers. Jack wasn't tech-savvy and she admitted that, but she tried to turn up the volume.
"Bzzt-zzt-You hear something-zzt-zzt."
"Baki… Shit. Have they been listening in this whole time?" Again, she fiddled with the knobs and keys. "Talo! Hardwin! Can you hear me?!"
No response. The faint voices seemed to be communicating with each other, but not to Jack.
"How much has GRE been listening?!"
This wasn't good. Asem said nobody could know any Rav business, not even Jack's task. And if this has gone on since Jack arrived in Scanderoon...
"This is gonna hurt the ears, Freakazoid," she warned, battered up with a weapon.
THUD! KLANK! BZZT!
A piercing sound almost pierced through her eardrums. She kept dismantling the nosy machines even when the footsteps clobbered close to her direction.
One last good swing finally killed the static.
"That's taken care of," she uttered, pleased to have that atrocious white noise gone. "Freakazoid."
She indeed heard normal sounds. Groans of pain, loud shouts, and faraway whimpering. A whole cast acting out on the other end, and Freakazoid must have become the star of the play. For the worse.
"Freakazoid!" But no reply again.
"Hey!"
Jack already expected company thanks to the noise she made, but not this early. The voices and footsteps didn't come to the door.
"An infected got into the cafeteria! Hurry!"
"Shit! C'mon!"
"Freakazoid!" Jack called again. "What is he doing now...?!" No, she could already guess. Another episode or he had to play the hero.
This was the third time! Moreover, any second, Freakazoid would have the entire chain of convicts flocking to him.
Looking back at the PA system—the one thing she didn't break—struck her with an idea. No time to waste! She pulled out her phone and opened Geyong's app.
That coder did say she made it easy that even a person like Jack could use it. But how did this work? She pressed something in the app. Another button and then the system lit up before her.
Something worked so she kept at it. Ding, dong, dong, chimed the school through the speakers around her. Dong, dong, dong!
Was that it?
Oh, right. The microphone.
The speakers shrieked from the light taps she gave. Everything was set. Time for her to change the play's script.
And hopefully, Freakazoid would play along with this last-second distraction.
"Attention. Any misbehaving grown men in jail suits, please report to the principal office as to how someone sneaked in and got onto the PA system right under their noses," she taunted. That gotta get some legs moving downstairs. "In the meantime, why don't we liven up the place?"
The smiling brunette gave another swift swipe across the screen and said,
"Courtesy of Mad Jack."
She hit the play button.
"Alexander's gonna kill us."
It didn't take too long for Crane to find the cafeteria after Jack's suggestion—not when he heard voices further down the hall. So quiet as a mouse, none of the owners knew something infected had sneaked by.
How could they know? He was behind a few walls as he saw the sudden scenario unfold, the two skeletons tauntingly standing over a third one. After stopping him from escaping with a bash to the skull.
"Nah. It's good. Just a head concussion... We should do something about that tongue of his, though."
"Hey. Don't go adding anything to the list. Just make sure he's tied up good this time."
If only Crane could get there, get to those two bastards and smash their heads together. But the closer he got to the voices, the more skeletons popped up further away into view. A number of them standing, patrolling and another group cowering on the floor. Possibly where the cafeteria was.
It was a delicate and dreary situation. If Kyle made one mistake, it could spell disaster in an instant.
"Does it matter? These people are all infected," the first guy spoke up as the two thugs dragged the injured man away. "They're gonna be dead anyway."
"Better them than us. So they need to be breathing. You want to be on Alexander's bad side? Be my guest."
"What? He killed someone?"
"Murder isn't all he has on his track record. Bastard is the Big Bad Wolf in the whole of Europe."
Basically another bigshot like Rias, Crane thought to himself. Big enough to keep prisoners in check and from fleeing out of a somewhat stable loyalty system.
"Isn't anyone locked up in maximum security?"
"Are you even-!" The second thug dropped the hostage down, in a fit of frustration. "That man… He can read you like a book. Get you under your skin. How do you think he got GRE wrapped around his finger?"
"Well… When you put it that way-"
"Exactly! He's not someone you want to mess with. Got that?"
The other convict backed off, palms held up. "Alright... Doesn't help that these saps can turn at any moment. Why are we doing all the dirty work for them?"
"Look at it this way. At the end of the day, we get our insurance first before GRE does."
Insurance? What on earth were they talking about? More importantly, this Alexander guy…
They were exaggerating, weren't they? It was ridiculous to think that some petty criminal had the GRE in his clutches, enough to have thugs think that...
Unless he had some sort of leverage like Rais did.
At the end of the conversation, the two convicts then dragged the injured man back inside to whatever the location was, propped him with the rest of the scared skeletons. Some hurried down to the poor man, panicking softly. Crane had to get there.
Sudden buzzing in his ear disrupted his thoughts.
"Where is this-bzzt-zzt-ng from?"
"Is everything ok?"
"Just getting-bzzt-interference. Don't mind me-zzt."
He had a bad feeling about this, but all he could do was hope Jack wouldn't do anything outrageous.
On swift feet, Crane maneuvered his way down the halls and eventually found the kitchen door gone off its hinges. In its place for a barricade, a cabinet held its place. A heave with his shoulder, and quietly, he slipped his way in and peered over the counter.
The school tables had been moved aside as more barricades, giving vast space for the convicts to use. The whimpering, the cowering, the sight of terrified men and women huddling close as cold-hearted thugs circled them with watchful eyes… It gnawed at Crane's pity and fury.
Something had to be done.
"Jack. I found them," he radioed back. "The captives. They're keeping them in the cafeteria."
"See? I told you they'd hold them somewhere big in this school."
He grumbled loudly. Yeah, yeah. He didn't want to hear it.
"They also got the supply boxes," Crane added as he eyed two men picking up one heavy crate together and taking it out of the cafeteria.
Out another door that looked like it led to another part of the schoolyard. Engines purred outside while he counted the faint orange outlines; basically the same number of men he spotted earlier.
"Particularly running shipment here."
"Alexander really hit a gold mine with this one," Jack exclaimed, papers shuffling with the white noise. Was she reading a book? "Wouldn't put it past them to have another base to move things around."
THUD!
"Careful with that!"
The first thought Crane had was the cargo being precious.
"That has explosives in it."
A faint screeching sound came from his talons, from having gripped the counter too hard.
Wait. Stop. What the hell is this? Why did they even have explosives?!
"Explosives…? Should we be carrying those around?"
"They're just plastic. Can't blow up without a blasting cap," one thug pointed.
"We could use them though. Make a dent into the Junction's walls," another said with a disturbing laugh.
Shit. This is bad.
"What's this rogue a-zzt-they're talking about..." He heard Jack mutter to herself. But that wasn't important right now.
"Uh, Jack?" Crane whispered. "They also got...plastic explosives."
"Explosives. Of course. What else doesn't GRE have in this school."
"This is a fucking joke," he glowered. Just how much was life gonna screw with him about his past?!
"Focus, Freakazoid." Right. Jack was right. Keep calm, Kyle. Keep cool for a moment. "We got them in the act. Now we need to follow their tracks."
"You-" Crane almost scrambled out of his hiding spot. Was he hearing her right?! "You're not planning to use these people?!"
"Do you plan on rescuing them? Just the two of us?" she asked him. Coldly straight to the point. "And how about the rest of the captives? They're still at who knows where in this city."
He knew that! Stop reminding him of the risks!
But what she suggested...it wasn't any better than the orders his operator gave him!
"I'm not risking lives in any more danger," he hissed back.
"Bloody oaf, use your head. They'll gun them down just to make things easy on themselves."
He clenched his fist. No easy way around this, no way of telling if any crook inside the school had a heart. One of them could shoot a man in the leg just for survival in an outbreak. Any sort of plan Crane could try to cook up now would also have a high chance of hurting people.
"We need their location. And we need a plan." He couldn't disagree with something big of an operation, and delicate. "The only thing you can do for the folk is make yourself scarce. Unless you want to play the monster again and give those crooks a fright of their lives."
"...That's not a bad idea," he confessed. Jack had always gone on about being a distraction. Why couldn't he?
"Now you listen here."
He was about to rebuttal: he would listen but he wasn't going to oblige! This was going too far.
"Talo-zzzt-zzt."
"Jack?" Where was this static coming from? "What's wrong?"
The white noise worsened. He could pick out words but...
"At a time like this," he grumbled.
Rattling his mind for a plan wasted time but Crane did it anyway... Hostages in the center, one injured man, fifteen people keeping watch, and probably a few dozen more somewhere in the school.
What about his invisibility? The conditions seemed to be in his favor, if the person was infected. Even Jack couldn't see him when he went all cloak and dagger. But he still didn't understand why that was the case.
Kyle had to try.
Thud!
"Gak-!"
The hilt came out of nowhere just as he turned away, right at the back of his head too. When did that guy sneak behind him? Crane couldn't completely stop himself from tumbling over or the kitchen from moving around him.
The ringing in his ears wouldn't stop either.
"How did he get in?!"
"We got an unwanted guest here!"
Thud!
Crane hollered out of pain at another blow to his back, forcing him to his knees.
"Freakazoid," he heard Jack call without the weird static, but he couldn't utter a word.
"H-Hey! Is something wrong with this guy?"
The blurry figures swam around him—the barrel of a rifle poking at a dangerous being. He could hear the captives panic in their circle. The crying, the whimpering.
"Freakazoid!"
"Shaddup!" warned one of the convicts. Heads ducked down with short-lived shrieks at the sudden wave of the threatening firearm.
They were in danger now. They were going to get hurt because of Crane.
He couldn't stop the shakes in his claws.
Stop. He had to get in control! Those people…they needed help!
Fight.
"Freakazoid!" Jack cried again. She had to come hurry. Help them!
"Is this for real…? Hah. You see this?" someone uttered with a boost of confidence.
"Shit. Is he-? Fuck, we need to kill him."
Crane growled through his clenched teeth. The anxiety made it unbearable that he balled his claws up. To stop the shaking. Stop the tremors.
His flight-or-fight response went on overdrive.
You have to fight!
So get up already!
He balled up a fist, ready to strike at anything coming his way-
Ding, dong, dong!
Loud chimes snapped Crane out of his trance. Again, he could breathe.
Was that the school bell?
Dong, dong, dong!
"What the-?! Who turned that on?!"
Speakers echoed loud to every ear. It sounded like something tapped the mic.
What followed seemed comedic to almost everyone in the cafeteria.
"Attention," uttered a woman's voice. "Any misbehaving grown men in jail suits, please report to the principal office as to how someone sneaked in and got onto the PA system right under their noses."
"Shit!" one of the thugs wailed. "How-?"
She'll stir up the damn infected!"
The moment of hesitation gave Crane a quick moment of recovery. Whatever plan Jack had, it was a dangerous one! And he agreed with the convicts too.
But right now, he had to take any opportunity Jack gave.
"In the meantime, why don't we liven up the place?"
"Huh?" a convict exclaimed while three out of the dozen headed for the door.
"Courtesy of Mad Jack."
"Jack?" someone's soft and scared voice exclaimed.
The atmosphere above fell quiet. Few men couldn't help but be glad too quickly-
The speakers boomed with the music of a guitar strumming and the fast-paced drums! The intensity of a song being played somewhere in the middle disturbed the gloomy, dark air of the abandoned school. The English lyrics sung by a woman would make the heart beat faster, filled with the meaning of triumph.
For the armed and violent men, it struck them down with fear. Nobody seemed to recognize the song, not even Crane. Only that it sounded like rock and country to him. British rock?
"Shut that thing off!" Every thug panicked like headless chickens. The survivors huddled closer together in their circle. "Shut it off!"
Crane threw a fist at the first guy. His arm instead, split open, and the bone blade unfolded up.
Up it went through the jawline, at the convict closest to the Day Hunter. Blood rushed down the throat, softening down that scream of his. The first domino fell.
"Shit! Shit!"
Pointing a modified submachine gun at the Day Hunter was a daring thing to do for one man. Before he could pull the trigger, something shot out from the thing's other arm. Like some rope-
That weird-looking rope yanked the convict's firearm away. His hands felt empty.
But he barely registered the creature lunging towards him, thrusting the blade into flesh. That domino fell.
More and more dominoes would follow down to the floor.
"Ahhh! AHHH!"
"What the hell is that thing?!"
"W-We need backup!"
"Hey!" someone's voice boomed through the speakers.
"C'mon, missy! You don't wanna do this."
The sounds of bones cracking and yelps mixed with the music. The backup that could have gone to the cafeteria instead of the PA system had their faces bashed by a madwoman's pitching. Eventually, the track came to a shrieking halt on the third chorus. But the damage was done.
"I-Infected in the cafeteria!" another convict tried the radio again. "It's killing everyone-argh!"
It all happened at the corner of Crane's eye. One of the hostages jumped for the opportunity, grabbing the firearm and cutting the convict from radioing in. The wrestle seemed one-sided with the survivor's hands in plastic ties.
One armed man wasn't enough. Kyle swiftly broke his current opponent's kneecaps and, with a tendril, swung a dropped pipe to the circle of survivors.
"What the-?!" one of them, wearing glasses, couldn't help but glance at the monster throwing a weapon at his feet. But he hurried; took the pipe in his hands, and pitched it down at the unsuspecting convict.
"Agh!"
BAM! went the first shot! In a twist of fate, the prisoner was the one who dropped, screaming at the wound clean through his thigh.
"Shit!" Disaster! The convicts' eyes jumped between the armed captive and the monster in the kitchen. Two problems at once!
The steeled captives, however, quivered at the sight of a pistol pointed at them. The on with the seized firearm couldn't hold an aim steady back.
"Huh-AHHH!" All of a sudden, before his very eyes, tendrils lassoed around the convict's legs and pulled him away! Oh god! Oh god, oh god!
"The doors!" the one with glasses hollered, after being snapped back from his shock. The other survivor turned back wearily at another, waving his tied hands to the side entrance. Noises, he could hear them escalate outside.
"B-But that thing-!"
"They'll come in any minute! Hurry!"
Choosing between a group of criminals or one infected. Of course, they didn't want the crooks to come in and save the day for them, only to capture them back. The two of the freed hostages hurried to close the side door.
"Dammit! Stop!"
No matter how much the last surviving convicts tried, they couldn't bring back order. Some focused on the biggest threat but were easily taken down with techniques a zombie should know. Close-hand combat, at that. Few tried to control the hostages' growing rebellion. One by one, the men in the circle freed themselves—someone had found a dropped dagger—and cut the ties off. Someone would get injured, like a hilt to the gut, knocking out the wind as a display to show no one should retaliate.
But the scale was tipped severely against the prisoners. Even two captured women, fueled by terror, anger, and determination, took to arming themselves as well. Three remaining convicts tasked to recapture ended up being forced on their knees.
It wouldn't be right to think that the hostages didn't hold contempt. Didn't mean normal civilians would take worse actions than the very monsters inside the school. They knocked some of their kidnappers out cold. Another survivor helped the first two guys with the entrance during the small riot.
BAM!
And just in the nick of time too. Hasty tying of ropes around the handles stopped anyone outside from joining in. BAM! BAM! The fists went heavily, followed by curse words and warnings dulled by wood.
"That isn't going to hold it!"
"What about that thing?!"
"Gak!" Crane underestimated his strength with a shove yet again, that under the crook's yelp, something cracked. All this time, cleaning up the convicts, he didn't leave the kitchen—well, the situation still gravitated towards him. He got what he wanted: the attention of the convicts but the attention of the survivors? He was worried.
As long as he showed them he wasn't after them, as long as they decided it wasn't worth it, then it would be ok.
"Let them deal with it! C'mon!" The man with the glasses ordered everyone to leave. Two men helped the unconscious friend up onto their feet and carried him away.
Yes! Go! Crane thought, and immediately disarmed another criminal.
BAM! BAM!
More shots fired his way. Another inhuman wail he shouted out to keep the last remaining crooks on him while he dove under cover. Bullets swished by, shredding through the metal furniture.
THUD! He heard the main entrance flung open and guns swung towards it.
"Whoa! Whoa! I'm not one of them!" cried out that heavy accent.
"Jack! It is you!"
"Babak?" The ex-kickboxer's eyes went wide at the one leading the group of hostages, all freed and armed to the teeth. She couldn't believe it! Someone from the Orphanage was alive! And not just him, a few of the others in the group were familiar too.
However, she put her joy aside.
"You can get through the back. The way's clear," Jack pointed. Hearing that, the survivors couldn't help but look content.
"The convicts. They, they're still outside-!"
"Babak," she calmed him down. "I'll distract them. Whatever happens, don't stop for anything. Got it?"
"W-What?" The brunette didn't wait for his answer. "Wait! Jack!" He couldn't stop her charging in. "There's still an infected-!"
"I'll handle him! Go!"
Babak's face warped with hesitation. Leaving her to deal with that freak and the prisoners? But he gave no second thought and ran down the halls with his fellow friends.
Jack gave a hard swing to a brute's head on the go; he didn't see it coming when he concentrated on trying to kill a particular Special. The last two were easily dealt with, without her help but even then, the tremors still remained in Crane's claws.
The horrid moment gradually fled out of his system from his constant demanding to gain his full focus back. Breathe, Kyle, breathe.
"Three times!" he heard Jack snap. "You're stubborn as a mule!"
His world shifted as he felt himself be brought back up onto his feet. He could already tell from Jack's face; she had thought the beast had come out again.
"Look who's talking," he murmured tiredly.
"Oh, comebacks now. Maybe instead of being cocky, how about being subtle for once?"
"Hey, I don't want to hear that from you."
BAM! BAM!
The barricaded doors shook and finally, the glass broke. Leaving Freakazoid to recollect himself for a moment, Jack staggered out in the open to watch a thug reach a hand through the window. Attempting to unbind the handles.
He was angry. So were the other friends behind him. And all that anger had no choice but to be funneled to the most jarring, eye-catching mark in the whole cafeteria.
"Yes. We did a number on your whole operation. Better stop us."
That got them riled up.
"You wanted to take care of these blokes." Jack hurried back to her partner, her weapon ready for the next beating. "You're getting your wish, mate."
"Hey. Isn't that what you want? A challenge?"
"Ha! An infected with a sick sense of humor. I've seen it all."
Thud!
"Get them!"
They came charging, sharp blades up for the dicing.
Jack charged as well and tackled a big bloke, a sharp jab to the wrist and his machete dropped from it. No matter the disadvantage over her short structure, she, the Wild Dog, always turned the tables around—a swift palm fired at the chest cavity did the trick.
The fighter's takedowns seemed tamed in the thugs' eyes compared to the sheer force huddling at two of them. It would be laughable. Facing the brunette would have been more merciful than having to deal with what they thought was human.
One or two times, a criminal shrieked at the sight he saw under the hood, but the bone blade or a snap of the neck silenced him.
With the obstacle cleared, the woman in red and the hooded infected sprinted out of the cafeteria's side entrance and into the open. Sure enough, right into the rest of the enemies.
They were the biggest, nosiest targets for Alexander's men. Hopefully, that could be enough to deter them off the survivors' backs, Crane thought.
If not, tearing the place down was still an option.
After the who-knows-how-many kills Jack took, she heard an engine roar at the gates. Several vehicles drove right off—some folks were either too cowardly to take care of the problem or the loot too precious for them to let go. With the gates wide open and the noise in the courtyard, Biters and Virals made a beeline to every remaining convict.
Something else also caught her attention: one empty truck and the stolen supplies, undoubtedly to be stocked in the back if it weren't for the sudden disarray.
"So this is those explosives you were talking about. Never handled this stuff before."
A crate had been opened. Some idiot was too eager to have his hands on the dangerous packages. Maybe with the excuse of inspecting the contents. Right on a bench, she spotted a package that looked specific with that contraption stuck on it. Unfinished with one of the wires sticking out.
"H-Hey! Don't go touching that. Christ. That's C4." The idea that this woman admired a crate of explosives for the first time, in the middle of everything, was too much even for him.
"How does this work?" It was a puzzle now in her hands. Jack first stuck the wire into the package.
"Now of all times?" Freakazoid almost refused to answer. "You just push some buttons and then detonate it."
"Ahhh. So that's it."
"Yeah. So, enough window shopping." He didn't like this. Everything about what Jack was doing didn't make it any less anxious. But he couldn't pay attention to her fiddling when he could hear more men running in their direction. "We gotta go-"
Crane heard a beep. It sounded all too familiar. What did she do?
She didn't guess, did she?!
"Jack." Only at the corner of his eyes just as he turned back, but he definitely saw her pitch something away. Underneath the truck.
"Time to go!" Jack gave a running start.
"What did you do?!"
"Less talking, more running," she chided, first pushing him forward and then sprinting off for the front gates.
"JACK!"
He picked up the pace. She couldn't have!
"Fire in the hole!"
BOOM!
It was deafening, nearly making Crane lose his footing. The truck practically leapfrogged a few feet into the air in a fiery ball of glory. Enough of a small-radius explosion. Fire or the blast couldn't blow up that crate of useless putty anyhow.
Still, it worked. The explosion took the few men by surprise, shaken that they couldn't stop two runners from blitzing out of the school. That was the last straw for them, abandoning the base of operation to the growing horde.
Jack climbed her way up to a good vantage point on the roofs of two-story row houses. She had to see her handiwork—grinning at the results, the place up in smoke—and before she searched for one important group off in the distance.
"Good. No one's following Babak and his gang." Several streets away from the school, but she could see that small group running behind a corner. And they needed a place to be safe quickly.
Though, as far as Jack had explored the city, there weren't a lot of good places to hold in. The Orphanage, out of the question.
"You- ...You!"
She had already jumped on the comms before Freakazoid could speak his mind after catching up to hr. Didn't even take notice that he was somehow still flabbergasted, taking in what had just happened.
"Any free runners available? Babak and a couple of his people are alive and in need of a Safezone."
"Holy shit! What?! How-"
"Questions for another time. You should be able to find them heading to the Skids," she cut Orhan off. That direction Babak took, it used to be a low-income district. He and the others had to have picked there for good reasons; they were locals after all.
"Got it!"
"What the hell was that about?!"
Jack raised an eyebrow at the sudden outburst behind her. What was his problem?
She shook her head. Not a good time to hear another complaint. "Hang on, Freakazoid. Got another call to make-"
"You blew the place up!"
"That's exaggerating it, isn't it? It was just a truck-"
"A truck?! You turned the whole school into a damn siren!" Freakazoid snapped aloud. "And that announcement?! You knew they had hostages!"
"And they would have been fine if you didn't freak out back then," she snapped, her agitation creeping over the cheekiness she usually spoke. Freakazoid didn't answer. "I made the call. Because someone here went off the rails again."
"No! I had it under control." His feral side didn't come out! "I, I wasn't...losing it."
"Really?" she uttered unconvinced. "Could have fooled me the first time."
Again, he couldn't rebuke back. But Jack could continue on.
"You're not a one-man team anymore. You're my Lifeline. And that means I can call you out anytime I think you're out of control."
He huffed and puffed, his angry gaze locked on Jack.
This time, the frustration got the better of him.
"What about you." No inside voice. "This isn't some glory fest for your own entertainment!"
"And so far, you've been enjoying the backseat-driving."
"I didn't sign up for your bullshit." Freakazoid closed the distance between him and Jack. "What I did before? I didn't put innocent lives at stake."
"Oh, really? I recall you saying you've had to kill people."
Those silver-blue eyes of his glared up with rage—the grinning woman had to step on that line.
"You - Don't turn this on me!" He did nothing of the sort. He only held the truth. "That was different!"
"Different… Look around you," she barked back. "Everyone's lives are always in danger. There's no sugarcoating it! Best to make peace about it and move on."
Nothing Crane could say to that statement could sound reasonable, when he could clearly see everything decaying with the virus, rotting to the core.
Didn't matter if he could save one or a dozen. Many more would still slip through his talons.
Superheroes were fiction in this world, anyway.
"I can't save everyone. I agreed with you then, mate," Jack reminded him with lukewarm spite. "Doesn't mean you can let your own personal feelings get the better of you and play the soddin' solo hero. You screw up, you make it harder. Not just on me. But on everyone as well."
Basically, calling him soft-hearted. Crane had already seen it coming.
He hated it. All of it. Being opened up and frayed.
"You agreed to my rules. Begged me to help you keep that monster of yours in check. You came to me." Jack pointed a finger at him before back to herself. "And if you don't like how I do work, you can piss right off. You said so yourself. It's that easy."
His mannerisms said it all. He could do just that. A choice Freakazoid could make at any time and she reminded him about it!
Yet his feet stayed grounded.
"Don't forget... I'm not stopping you." Hands up to show no strings attached. No tricks under Jack's sleeve. The Day Hunter could take his leave anytime.
Just when she thought he had finally shut up, just when she could finally call the Ravs, the talkative infected had to try having the final word.
"...He wasn't this ballistic."
She turned back, suddenly finding Freakazoind acting shocked. At her or at what he just said?
"He who?" Jack snapped. Really, what was the point for him trying to hide the fact he blurted that out? "Hey, you're more than welcome to replace me if you have someone else in mind."
Again, he didn't peep. Strangely looking more torn on the spot than he should. But she didn't care. What a blooming headache… Who knew there would be other downfalls of having a sentient infected as a partner. Besides the chance of getting eaten by him.
Regardless, the argument was over. Freakazoid deflated down with no more blows to give. Now she could make that important call.
"Really. If you were this much of a prick as a human, I'd have punched you out cold."
"Jack!" he suddenly hollered. "Jack!"
"What?!" Jack snapped loudly. What else could he say?! She had to phone HQ, for goodness sake!
However, the gesture of his palm literally towards something was more important than words. Something far from them. Behind her.
Jack wheeled on the ball of her heels. Hazel eyes widened behind her shades at the sight of the last person who shouldn't have been up on the roofs. But lo and behold. What a coincidence for someone to cross paths.
The shock on her face was exactly what Jack wore the first time she found out about Freakazoid. Her jaw dropped. The young teenager had absolutely no words when seeing someone she knew talk and literally interact with a monster. Especially being reciprocated. Her grip loosened from the sheer shock, her ascender tool could have slipped right off.
How long had Siv been standing there? Two? Three minutes? The entire conversation?
"Don't suppose we can talk about this in a calm fashion?" Jack asked as she gave her best award-winning smile.
However, Siv booted it without a single thought.
"Siv!"
She wouldn't listen. Not to the brunette giving chase.
"Siv! Stop!"
No one in their right mind would after seeing that...freak standing next to Jack!
It talked!
That was what Siv thought she had heard. No, that wasn't sound her ears picked up. Those words somehow invaded her mind. It gave an uncomfortable feeling inside her skull!
"Siv! It's exactly what you think, but could you give me five minutes to explain?!"
Explain what?!
That Jack was talking to the Day Hunter like it was her pal?! Did she already forget?!
That thing tried to kill them!
There was nothing to talk about!
Although she had so many questions, there was no way Siv would stand in the same space as that monster! She had to get far away from this insanity. Because every time she gave a glance over her shoulder, she could see a darting shadow at the corner of her eye.
That thing was terrifyingly fast!
Siv jumped down from a high balcony. If she could make it to a Safe Zone-
CLANK!
Suddenly, she sank deeper than she thought she should. Then there was nothing below her feet.
The floor gave way.
How, she wondered for a split second, all too stunned to jump forward. Grab anything to stop her fall. She had gone through this route millions of times, and never once did it break. Suddenly, today, her luck turned sour—did the boards get damaged from the storm?
"SIV!"
Gravity. Pulling her down the dark hole. Out of poor desperation, she reached out and grabbed onto a hand.
A snarl prompted the young teenager to look down at the gathering of three, four Biters hurrying to the sound of the broken broads. They searched about before groaning irritably, but nothing came their way. Then at each other over dominance.
Siv glanced up, greatly relieved that Jack got her in the nick of time-
The relief washed away instantly with a sharp gasp.
It wasn't Jack's hand but a hideous-looking claw. Silver eyes pierced right at her like daggers.
A freak of nature had her in its grasp. She was done for!
All of a sudden, she was pulled up.
Not in the way of a monster dragging its prey viciously. Siv was gently placed on her feet, on the same level as the Day Hunter. Panic pushed her to fall back, however. Get away from that thing!
The Day Hunter did nothing to retaliate against a fleeting human. It stood calmly. Waiting. Then three steps away from Siv. Like it was giving space.
How? What?
"Siv!" Jack came into the picture. But before Siv could make a run for it, get far away from the madness, the brunette towered over her escape. Hands planted on the young girl's shoulders as Jack fought against the stitches for darting across the roofs. "Are you ok?!"
Siv quickly shoved her hands away, unable to tear her eyes off the beast behind Jack. "Ok?! That's the Day Hunter!"
"Siv. This is a lot to take in. But I need you to stay calm-"
"How can I stay calm?!" Siv could barely hold herself, desperately trying to leave. Her legs could only take her a step or two back. "I-Is that what we're going to become?! "
"What?" Jack exclaimed. "No, of course not. Maybe a little?" A half-truth, they might actually turn into the regular Biters—the small bit of honesty got her a disapproving glare from the infected.
"It's just a matter of time." Right on the spot, Jack didn't understand. Where was this girl getting an existential crisis out of nowhere? Siv placed the balls of her palms on her head as she rocked back and forth. "We're gonna turn into monsters."
"What are you going on about? Those crates I got should last a month-"
"Antizin doesn't even work anymore!"
The outburst took Jack by surprise. Even to the Day Hunter.
However, Siv persisted in setting the grim reality down for the mad brawler.
"The duration's getting shorter in people! I've checked! Three times! I know because I'm taking it more than usual!"
She couldn't control it anymore. She felt herself on the verge of crying, that she held her hands up to do...something, anything.
"Quasim was right…" Siv finally expelled those words out and like a hex, it cemented her terror even more. That her future was closing to an end. "Antizin can't help us anymore..."
Jack said nothing. No lie to make it hopeful. No truth to assess what Siv just said. The silence made it all the worse for the teenager.
Her knees gave way, and she sulked to the floor in despair.
Siv buried her face in her hands. How screwed they were. Soon, she would kick the bucket. Turn into those ferals at any given moment. At a young age too.
She didn't want to die.
She had so much more to do! She hadn't even heard anything about her mother! She didn't get to say goodbye to her relatives, already dead and eaten by the next-door neighbour when she got back home. And now she would lose another chance with her mother. Hell, she had yet to experience things people talked about! Like having a driver's license, going traveling, and falling in love!
Siv wanted to live...
Quietly, she felt a presence sit next to her. God, stop it. She didn't want Jack to see her ugly face, covered with tears and snot. But Siv gradually raised her head up.
And then she was surprised. The way Jack's body language spoke… This was exactly how she was when she talked to Orhan. No, that was wrong. She didn't speak first and waited patiently for Orhan to take the lead instead. Her quiet demeanor warmed the poor guy's fear until he could build up the courage to speak.
Jack just waited.
Until the young teenager was ready to talk rationally.
"We're fucked...aren't we?"
Jack prepared herself. First with a heavy sigh. "...We were fucked from the very beginning," she said honestly. "This couldn't have gone any other way."
Siv furrowed her brow. Something didn't sit right with what Jack said.
"...You knew? About the Antizin?" Siv felt confused. Betrayed. Had she been holding this info the whole time?!
Jack shook her head. "We had some leftovers back in the Outskirts. Before GRE stopped giving out airdrops… Thought something went wrong with the batch."
"...It wasn't the case. Was it?"
"...Yeah… It wasn't the case." Jack thought carefully of her words. "...I thought I could be wrong here."
A guess. A thought-process. A theory. And Jack gambled that it would never be true. That was why she kept that quiet—why say anything if nothing was proven?
"...But you were right."
"..." For once, Jack fell silent. Emotionless and yet hurtful at that statement. Disappointed in herself.
"...So...we'll have to leave," Siv said grimly. The thought was so scary that she wrapped her arms tightly around her legs.
Jack leaned forward but kept quiet. Just say it, Siv thought. She could take the harsh reality.
But that was a stupid lie to herself.
"First thing people will do is argue," the ex-kickboxer started. "Half the folks won't agree with throwing sick civilians out into the streets. The other half will want to take measures. A few will leave. Some get killed. Things...escalate."
Siv shrunk back as she digested her words. None of Jack's hum, charisma, or dry sense of humor draped together as she spoke. It felt like it came from her own experience—seeing things be so predictable that it'd take one action to make the next action happen.
Then Siv realized it on the spot. It really did happen to Jack.
The Outskirts, near where the Harran outbreak happened. If anything, Jack was probably the only veteran in Scanderoon to have lived longer than anyone in the Junction. More months than Siv had already gone through.
The brunette slumped back to try and make herself comfortable. No holding back now. No one from HQ could stop her.
"It wasn't a pretty sight in the Outskirts," Jack explained. "We were desperate. And we did things that made it hard to gain that trust back."
At that instance, Crane noticed Jack massaging her arm—the spot where her oldest bite was. He thought more before he connected two dots.
But he refrained from speaking. Half because of the scared runner, half because of Jack.
"Even harder to remedy the problem."
The words sank slowly, surely, and eventually harder on the poor girl.
"...Then...do we have to wait it out?"
It was an honest-to-god question Siv couldn't help but ask.
"Waiting is 'one' option," Jack started. "But you can't ask people to think rationally when this has gone on for too long. Sometimes, nobody can give the right solution. Sometimes, you get impatient."
Out of the blues, Jack turned to Siv. It made her jerk back; Siv didn't think she could witness other emotions out of the always-smiling ex-kickboxer. It surprised her. Frightened her. Because Jack hadn't been smiling the entire time.
"You're done waiting."
Waiting… Siv counted back the months she spent inside this dying city. Lockdown happened three months ago. But after hearing that from Jack, it felt longer.
"I'm infected," Jack continued. "There's no point in hiding that from you."
Siv recoiled in her spot, trying to be as small as she could; she had already known something was up about Jack's infection. Denying Antizin. And she didn't tell anyone about it.
Maybe Jack never told anyone because, as Siv said, she already knew Antizin wouldn't work on anyone, and even Jack. But Siv couldn't help but feel a little ashamed at learning about that little secret behind her back.
Jack's calm demeanor, however, assured that there were no repercussions.
"It doesn't matter to me. I've got nothing to lose anyway." Jack had such a look of solace that it bewildered her, who had shouted, wept, and quivered under the fear of death. "So I took up a job. The Ravens...they want all this waiting to end."
That was too hopeful to say, in Crane's opinion. Sure, the aura was admirable. He could see it in the young girl, almost too torn to ask the ex-kickboxer if she had a solution. An idea. Something. But that was making false promises.
They didn't have an answer. Only theories and tests. Camden had a possible cure, but in another city. So close, right in their palms, yet so far away.
That couldn't stop Jack from expressing her conviction.
"There hasn't been a fight I've never backed away from. I'm not backing out now."
Now Siv understood the appeal behind Mad Jack—the underdog who couldn't and wouldn't back down against all the odds. Almost like she had faced death in the ring too.
Then she compared herself to Mad Jack. She was only an original person who lacked the Wild Dog's persistence and fighting spirit. She wasn't even an adult yet.
"But, Jack… I'm not you."
Jack furrowed her brow. "Of course you're not. You're Siv. Your fight is to stay alive."
Fight? How? Siv was infected. One day, whether the Antizin ran out or her own body couldn't take the suppression, she'd turned.
But she listened. That was all she had left to do.
"You have your own reasons for surviving this long," Jack continued. And that sounded absurd, Siv's face looking indecisive, disagreeing. "I'm sure that's the same for your mother."
The thought didn't cross her mind that it would shock Siv. She glanced back up at Jack, but she couldn't see her expression behind the shades. Or was it because her eyes were so blurry?
From the spite the young teenager first gave Jack since she came to the Junction, anyone would imagine a troubling relationship severed between a mother and daughter. The topic about her mother was a tough one, anyhow. But seeing the runner's stunned look gave her the answer.
There wasn't any loathing. It was more as if it had only dawned on Siv. Those little matters she had about her mom seemed so stupid the more she thought about it.
Maybe because she was at death's door. Maybe it had been too long since she had seen her mother's face.
She just wanted to see her.
"She's doing everything she can to see her daughter again. Only natural. So you're not alone."
Jack took one thing from her jacket. It had been light the entire time—easy for her to just bring it along. She rested the item right on Siv's hand.
Peri's bag.
"We're all in this together."
Siv had thought she had cried out all her tears. But holding the bag, feeling it much heavier than when Peri showed it to her once, made her eyes water. She had to remember the week she was bitten.
It hurt. Badly.
The poor, young girl was ready to blur it out. With sadness, anger started to boil-
"...So."
That stopped the outburst from exploding. Jack rose up onto her feet. "The question becomes, how long can you keep going?"
How long could she keep doing this? Siv couldn't imagine it. The thought of giving up did plague her mind one or two times, but even so, she had to be realistic.
"I-I...I dunno-"
"C'mon now," Jack's chirpy voice unsuspectedly slid back into the conversation without Siv noticing. "You can do better than that."
Crane hunched his eyes at the woman. That came off a little insensitive-
"You have people waiting for you, yes?" she continued, regardless.
That caught Siv off guard. It angered her. Made her gallop up on her feet. "...O-Obviously, my mom!"
"That's all?"
Was this a fight she wanted? Because that stupid grin was egging Siv on! It forced her to climb up and go one-on-one with Jack. "Of course! I still have friends back in Harran!"
"Only in Harran?"
Why was Jack being so childish all of a sudden?! Sometimes, she frustrated her like any other adult! Like she knew better!
"Wha...yeah! There's the runners!" So Siv's mind raced for more answers. "They can't do anything without me! And, and...Mahir! Doc and Hayla! The kids! Everyone at the Junction! But I ain't counting Quasim and his bastard group!"
That ushered out a soft, comforting laugh from the woman in red.
"That's a good list there. You're missing just one more name."
One more?
It was right then that she realized the Wild Dog was looking at her with a soft smirk, the entire time she's been riled up by her.
"This random stranger you've met a few days ago."
Just like that, all of Siv's doubts were gone.
Everything seemed like a spell lifted the terror right out of her body. A total stranger who crashed into the Coast managed to convince her that her time succumbing to the Harran Virus wasn't inevitable. She could have another tomorrow to live.
Jack turned to the Day Hunter with her beaming smile. "While we're at it, you even have this one infected all reeled up about you too. That's quite a feat," she chuckled before she turned back to Siv. "You can't throw the towel in yet, Siv."
It felt surreal. Unreal. Most of all, Siv felt more alive than before.
She couldn't help but cackle. Out of an odd mixture of frustration and happiness, she wiped the dry tears off her face.
"Jack. You can be such an ass sometimes."
The smile on Jack's face widened. "Who was it who called me granny on Day One? Can't let that go, little Princess."
That was true, Siv couldn't deny it as she leaned back. All that talk about some famous ex-kickboxer rubbed her the wrong way from the beginning. But she still laughed.
She was a bit better. Not the greatest. Siv still felt like shit after knowing she could kick the bucket anytime soon… But still better than nothing.
Gradually, she lifted her head. Now there was one more thing to talk about.
"So…" Siv started with a finger shakily pointing at the elephant in the room. It didn't quite help that the Day Hunter noticed her point, making her shrink even more. "Are we not going to talk about him?"
For some reason, Jack's mannerisms seemed to help Siv relax—the brunette bringing back her wide smile to warm up the atmosphere.
"As long as Freakazoid's fine with it, why not."
A/N: 26/10/2021
Heyo everyone! And thank you very much for your patience. Here is the next chapter! Sprinkled with some interesting elements I actually didn't think of putting yet but at the same time, put them there for a bit of conflict for Crane. Again, as always, working on these chapters are always hard to work out the finer details in the plot. But it's always both challenging and fun and it's all worth it in the end.
I will say, and as everyone has noticed, this is one chapter that's into memory lane for everyone and a trauma nightmare for our main protagonist. Really builds more character development on Crane and tests that trust between him and Jack. As well as the background mystery surrounding human experimentation and Alexander's lackeys helping GRE, how far is Jack gonna uncover? Boy, as much as it was a pain that it took months to finish, this story got interesting fast for me. XD Oh and adding another problem to Crane's list too for the end.
Three more chapters to go and hopefully, I'll make it before DL2 is released. I've even shifted some elements from my plan around but hopefully, it'll get smoother from this chapter onwards. I will say, I don't think a lot of Crane's secrecy will be unearthed to Jack in this arc, at least not with so many things from his past coming back to bite him back. That second arc is a long way to go though and we will see how this all goes - since it's a given: while I do have a base idea for the overall plot, everything just unexpectedly changes when I'm working the points out. X'D I really wish I could work this all faster and I really do appreciate your patience and enjoyment for sticking to this long-a** story for so long. I'm still amazed some of you keep rereading it! Again, I thank you for that.
BTW, a bit of trivia. Part of Jack's personality I created was inspired a little bit by Junkrat from Overwatch... Annnd I wanted to do a scene with her handling explosives. :Y The more you know.
Ending this note off, I hope you enjoy this doozy one. And speaking of re-reading, I've edited and added small bits for the last chapter because of this one and future stuff. There's also a good chance I'll have to edit something in the past chapters to collaborate with the newer ones and without conflict. The endnotes explain the changes as always. Also, look out at the tumblr blog under the same title name for any future updates and keeping up to date! Thank you all!
29/10/21 - Edited some lines
13/3/22 - Went over a full chapter edit with some fixes, retwists, deletes and adjustments. Added new dialogue.
2/5/22 - Removed a minor irrelevant detail.
20/1/24 - Final fixes and changes, I hope