Chapter Summary
- CAT OUT OF THE BAG
Someone from the Junction found out about me. A kid named Siv... If it wasn't for Jack...I don't know... I can't handle another person being afraid of me. - Crane
TWENTY-TWO: OPEN WOUNDS
"Freakazoid… That's him?"
Siv recalled hearing that name once over the radio. She did wonder why Jack said it out of nowhere, but she never prodded on it.
Geez, she didn't think she would get an answer like this.
Jack nodded, hearing a little grouchy grunt from the Day Hunter. "In the flesh."
That fact sunk deep into the teenager. She couldn't forget the terrifying, feral beast they faced at the small chapel. Now Jack's got that thing on some metaphorical leash.
How the hell did she turn this around?! No way was it magic, and Siv would punch the person who would say it was.
"What is he exactly?"
"Love, I've been with him for several days, and I still have no idea what he is."
"...I-Is he tamed?"
"He's not a pet. But he's as human as you and I together."
"Human… That's an understatement," Siv couldn't help but blur that out. "Seriously! How did you even get him?"
"All I did was lend a listening ear," Jack gloated.
The young runner's face said it all: that was a blatant lie!
The more time spent digesting this revelation, the more Siv thought. "Then...what Orhan said before-"
"Yes. He's been a brilliant help to the Junction, and no one has been the wiser."
The beast in front of them grumbled in response. As if a normal human being couldn't take Jack's banter as a compliment. The scene before Siv just seemed too unbelievable—that she playfully joked with a sentient infected, and might Siv add in her head, wasn't biting at Jack in retaliation.
Siv couldn't swing as easily as Jack was with acceptance over this revelation. Ok. If it weren't for the sharp claws and terrifying eyes, she could see it. Some...guy who's not exactly an infected.
"You're crazy, Jack," the teen said with defeat.
"I get that a lot," the brunette chided. "Give it a while. You'll warm right up to him."
"Warm up... The Junction isn't gonna like this."
Siv heard a huff from the Day Hunter. Did...did he just agree with her?
"I wasn't open to the idea of a talking zombie running around," Jack explained. "...The Junction doesn't need to know. For now anyway."
Well, she was right. The Junction held a parade, cheering 'the Day Hunter was dead' out loud. A problem out of a thousand others.
One word that the residential monster wasn't, and everyone's moods would be dampened. Maybe worse.
"Quasim might go after him."
Jack hummed out a soft laugh. "Only if he knows, princess. Unless you intend to tell him."
Siv wheeled to her so fast, shocked. "Hell no. He's an asshole."
The next laugh came out louder, crackling like that of a hyena. "You hear that, Freakazoid?"
Siv cowered back. Is she actually having a conversation?! With a Hunter!
The Day Hunter merely glanced at Jack, almost like he had the same thought as Siv's.
"She's no tattletale. Not a problem there, right?" Jack asked so sincerely; it just seemed so unthinkable to the teenager.
Then Siv found herself caught staring, her frightened eyes at those silver-blues.
Shit.
She hadn't hit adulthood yet, and already, the feeling that her life would be over had snaked back. Jack wasn't helpful in putting her on the spot and pasting a big, giant red bullseye on the poor kid.
All of a sudden, those scary eyes looked away.
"Really, Freakazoid," Jack said disappointedly, and yet that smile didn't waver. "Your secret's already out, and you still want to act all shy?"
Hold up! There were more people who knew about Freakazoid?! How long did Jack keep this big secret?!
Again, but slowly, Freakazoid glanced back at Siv with such hesitation and calmness that she never thought to see in an infected. It made it bearable to think that she wouldn't be jumped and attacked at the neck.
"...She's got enough on her plate."
Hearing the raspy, hoarse voice made her jump a little. That was different from what she heard earlier. But her mind screamed again; he talked!
It then made Siv think… Did Jack do that to bring down her wall to a talking zombie, or was it the other way around?
Maybe both.
"She's right, though… You can be an ass sometimes."
"Hey," Jack murmured, acting hurt. Only to truly become surprised at the sound of a snigger to her left.
Both adults took notice of the hands over Siv's mouth and the sudden wide eyes at the two, like a child getting caught. She chuckled. At an infected making a joke out of the Wild Dog.
Siv was in trouble.
A sigh, however, reassured her otherwise.
"Sure. Make me the villain," the brunette murmured after a sigh. Her grin crept back warmly on her face—the usual Mad Jack wore to Siv.
"Now. Mind telling me why you're out here? You're definitely not out doing a run."
Siv gave a funny look. Seeing the disconnection present, she had no choice but to explain, "Didn't you see the blast?" She raised a palm to the spiraling grey tower at the school. "City Hall called saying they saw smoke in the Skids."
"Why, yes." Jack could feel the disapproving glare drilling into the back of her skull. But she completely ignored Freakazoid. "We did come across something 'explosive'."
"We sent A-Team out to scout ahead. Didn't think I'd come across you and…him."
That pause. Nothing much Crane could do—the tamed infected dubbed 'Freakazoid' right in front of the young runner—it wasn't as if she could address him as a normal thing, unlike the two Rav traders who went into it rather quickly.
"Ok, you told me the reason for the runners. But you haven't told me your reason for being out here, Siv."
The young girl before him flinched, an action she couldn't hide. Crane realized the trap Jack laid for her.
"You run two teams all on your own. But I've never seen you tag with either one of them out in the field."
Immediately, Siv grabbed her arm, the hand right on her hidden bite wound. She could try to avert her gaze all she wanted, but the trap had already been triggered.
Crane actually felt the teen's discomfort, regrettably grabbing her arm for some reason. Jack had fished for all the right spots, and she took the bait. But as always, the brunette never overstepped her limit when it came to profiling. Just gave a nudge to see what direction the receiving end took.
"I…" Siv dropped her head down. "I didn't want to stay at the Junction. Not when...you know."
Antizin. Anyone could pile twenty stacks of the suppressants, and it wouldn't be enough if it was losing the game. Every infected survivor in Scanderoon was particularly up a creek without a paddle now.
That also meant Harran, now that Crane thought grimly.
"Have you told anyone?"
Siv shook her head at Jack's question, looking more and more afraid.
Only natural. One word, and that could tear down foundations. Even Crane himself would leave if he were in the young girl's shoes—just to remember.
The worst part about it was that there were only a handful of people who knew the truth. Slowly and insidiously, Crane could feel the guilt gnaw back.
We should tell them, he thought wearily. Right?
"Besides you, how many folks have a shorter duration?"
It was a question that came out of left field. Like more painting to the picture, just so Jack could see it all as a whole.
She was an enigma to Kyle; one minute, she was indifferent about the whole hostage situation and the next, she was trying to be damn sympathetic…
"Uh, six. The Junction has eleven infected total, counting you."
"And out of the six, has anyone gotten really bad relapses?"
That question didn't dawn on Siv at first. "No, not in a while." She frowned. "The only relapse that happened was with Nazmi and...well-"
"Our supply run that day," Jack finished, keeping it quick and short and leaving Freakazoid puzzled. Privacy between women. "It'd be better for everyone to keep taking it. Maybe it could give them a placebo effect for the time being."
Siv furrowed her eyebrows. Same with the Day Hunter. "Isn't that a bad idea?"
"The worst idea is for people to stop taking it. Won't help anyone if everyone loses their shit."
"...Yeah. You're right."
Ok, so maybe sympathetic wasn't the right word, Crane pondered to himself. Even shameful to think she did it out of saving face.
Only several days and he was...trying to understand the inner workings of her brain. Jack always took the realistic—and dramatic—approach and he couldn't deny thinking of the consequences. It was always about taking the lesser direction. Less noise, less commotion, less fear. That bought time and stopped people from being rash. Like himself.
"I'm no scientist or doctor. But I know enough that this whole virus is giving all sorts of weird results."
"What do you mean?"
Freakazoid spoke first before she could. Again, Siv couldn't get used to hearing that creepy voice.
"Nazmi," Jack pointed. "He's the newest member infected and immediately, he started to turn. Even with Antizin."
"He's the odd one out."
Nor could she get used to the fact that Jack could remain so calm that she nodded to Freakazoid. Like the ex-kickboxer had built a whole system of communication with him.
The teenager frowned. She didn't like that she was out of the conversation. But what could she add when the two had the gears turning?
Man, how she wished this sentient thing didn't talk!
"How is he?" Jack then asked Siv.
"Still out cold… But I dunno if he'll wake up fine."
Not a hopeful thing to hear. Right now, Nazmi was the dividing factor: if he'd wake up right as rain after a 'normal' relapse, or the sickbay would truly have a Biter tied to the bed.
"Gonna be problematic if he doesn't," Crane pointed.
"Not much we can do until then. For now, we should get Babak's group to safety as soon as possible. It'd be a long trek from the Skids to the Junction. On foot and before dark."
"Hmph. Not a walk in the park, y'know," Freakazoid grumbled.
All of a sudden, Siv fell silent. No matter how hard she tried, the duo already noticed.
"...Yeah. That...might be a problem. Junction won't be taking any more survivors."
Well, this was new. Enough to peak Jack's interest and enough to raise Crane's anger.
"Mahir decided this?" Jack asked.
Siv's reluctance said otherwise. "...Quasim's been armstronging him after the whole sickbay incident. Mahir had no choice. His stupid goons even tried to stop us runners when that call came in."
"Are you kidding me?" The snarl came out of nowhere that it actually surprised her. "Then where else are they supposed to go?"
Everything in Crane's actions was impulsive, acting like a human disagreeing. But as an infected, he only came off as a Hunter trying to bite Siv. He quickly realized the mistake when he was stopped by Jack's arm and calmed down for the poor, frightened girl.
"Then we'll find a Safe Zone for them."
Level-headed as always. Jack, able to calm down a fuming infected. Siv kept seeing more surprises, and she still couldn't keep up.
There was also one more surprise she didn't think she would learn from the scary beast.
"...He's helping you find those missing people, isn't he?"
"Yes," from the Wild Dog confirmed that notion. To learn that an infected actually had a heart? People would look at Siv, thinking she snapped under the pressure.
But right there and then, she actually believed more than before. Jack could find them.
With that, uh, freak of nature besides her.
"The two of us will help Babak out somehow," Crane wasn't too sure if Jack didn't notice the upset glare from the teenager. Or if she chose to ignore it.
And of course, Siv made herself clear. "Hey-"
"You go back to the Junction." Nope, Jack definitely saw the glare, but for once, being reasonable, she wouldn't have the teen come along. "And no tagging behind us. Freakazoid can see you a mile away."
Siv frowned, already deciding not to put that to the test. But the fact that she did have that thought was unsettling to the ex-kickboxer. The teen persisted. "I just got here."
"Yes, and at a very rotten time too."
"Well, I'm not the one who's hiding him from us," Siv rebuked.
"Client confidentiality," a smooth answer that sounded so bullshit even to Crane. "You need to keep an eye on things back at base. Especially on Nazmi and Quasim."
The reasoning stopped Siv from arguing. The one good thing was that at least she could be level-headed at the right times. Or it could be because Jack mentioned the trapper's name—one of several guys she hated for their guts. Who wouldn't hate Quasim.
"...Yeah. No telling what he'll do on his damn high horse." With a sigh of defeat on her pride, she continued, "Fine. I'll watch Nazmi. And you'd better keep me in the loop about Babak. Got that, granny?"
"Of course, lil princess."
Siv huffed back as a last-effort retort.
Good, Crane thought. The more the young runner would stay indoors, the better. She was what? Much younger than Rahim? The little similarities Crane compared between the two made him irked. More surprising was seeing Jack let someone younger than her walk over her on that last part. Then again, if one listened very carefully between the lines, that playful hum in her voice stayed present.
It did make him wonder: was what Jack suggested another one of her mind tricks or out of genuine concern?
Satisfied, for a split second, the runner turned around.
"One more thing."
Jack hesitated, a first time for Crane. As if deciding whether or not to tell the young teenager something.
"Tell Mahir GRE's been listening on radio talk for some time."
Ok, that's big. Siv felt surprised and insulted on the spot—whenever she heard that name, it just seemed like bad luck to everyone.
Anyone would want to ask why right away. However, Siv remained calm. Time was wasting. And it'd be a can of worms if she were to open it.
"Got it." Siv was off, scurrying carefully across the rooftops.
...Leaving the two alone.
"So, Freakazoid," Jack started with a blank face. "Do you still want to leave?"
Crane frowned, of course, she'd continue back from their argument. She gave him his way out. Not prodding him but neither out of good faith. Again, if he didn't know better, this was another test for him.
Would he let her continue with her ways, or would he again show dissatisfaction and take it into his own hands? That was what Crane interpreted from her watchful gesture. What he didn't get was why couldn't she just say it.
She wasn't obliged to follow him. So was it because he was her client?
Crane seriously didn't understand her.
"...We find that Safe Zone," he gave his open-ended answer.
And the Wild Dog said nothing back to him.
Onwards with business as usual. Crane was the first to sprint off, back to where they last saw the other group. He kept at a far distance while he saw a second group moving above ground—runners from the A-Team.
Jack, far behind, couldn't stop him. She gestured her hands out in a moment of frustration, but sighed and dropped her hands to her sides. She still had to make the call, but...fine, she'd do it afterwards.
The skid road welcomed all sorts of guests: the captured survivors, the runners, the two misfits and the fresh corpses of the infected that had hurried after prey. Rather than spending on bullets, the hostages sorted to melee as their means of defense, even with a gun's handle. Eventually, one way or another, they met up with the A-Team and began being led somewhere safe. Kyle watched them bunch together in a nearby high-fenced parking lot. Runners in pairs took to station around the perimeter to keep out ruffians.
That's good, Kyle thought to himself. But not good enough. A normal safehouse wouldn't be enough to hold the number of people rescued, including Babak. Throughout his time in Scanderoon, Crane hadn't spotted an ideal place in the Skids.
Then he heard Jack finally catch up to him on the roof, where he stood, heavily panting at trying to catch up with a Freakazoid.
Yes. She was a brawler, less of an athlete. And any parkouring runner trying to be on the same level as someone like Crane would be impossible. He could see his human self failing too in a race with his current self.
Whatever. Jack was still herself, and Crane didn't care.
"Another storm's coming," he casually pointed at the grey sky. Purposefully saying that to hide his true motive. "I'll keep watch."
He didn't quite notice the stinkeye tossed his way. Well, well. Now he grew a spine to give her orders. Sadly, the stitch inside prevented her from chastising back. Taking in one deep breath, Jack straightened herself up and slowly descended down the building.
"Serkan, right?" Jack called out once she reached the parking lot.
"Yeah," one of the runners answered. "Everyone's alright, other than needing to catch their breath."
"Jack," Babak uttered, immediately staggering from the group of escapees. He couldn't take a minute for a break, all too happy to see a familiar face in the crowd. Alive. "The children-!"
The ex-kickboxer stopped him from fumbling over his words. "They're safe at the Junction. Carl's with them too."
"He's alive? They're all alive?" Babak quickly let out a laugh, so pleased to hear the news. A teacher turned survivor, and the idea of lives lost under his watch—it would have shaken anyone to the core. He almost fell to his knees if Serkan didn't come over to steady him. "Thank goodness."
The irony hung in Jack's silence. She never said every child at the Orphanage was alive...
"We should get you and your folk somewhere safe," Jack, however, swung back to her cheer.
"We got this place guarded, but they can't stay here," Serkan explained.
"Wouldn't suggest the Orphanage either," Jack said.
"The Orphanage!" Suddenly, Babak interrupted with wide eyes. Like something only dawned on him. "Something went wrong!"
Jack's hands stopped Babak from going off like a rocket. The calmness she wore reminded him that the night of the Orphanage's demise had already ended.
"Right now, you need to save your energy. Leave the work to us."
That settled Babak down. He almost couldn't find his way to sitting on the trunk of a sedan.
"Any place they can bunker down for the night?" The brunette turned to Serkan. There had to be something, anything.
"The Auditorium," one of the other runners proposed. "We had that place prepared before the prisoners took it from us."
"Hm," Jack sang. "And after that blackout, they might have abandoned it. Easy picking."
"It's at the Sports Palace. You'll have to turn on the main building's power to light the Auditorium up. Then we can move in."
"Sports Palace… Huh."
She gave a nod of acknowledgement and took a slow pace away from the group. How long had she heard that place's name? Jack couldn't help but glance at the modern-styled zigzag rooftop of an arena in the distance.
"Haven't been there since..."
She stopped, lost in thought. It certainly was a blast from the past.
But that story was for another time.
"You got all that?" she called over the comms.
"Turn on the power inside the main building. Got it."
"Then I'll do some spring cleaning at the Auditorium."
Spring cleaning. The whole area didn't light up with orange skeletons the closer Crane got but he certainly could tell the last storm had allowed unwanted guests to settle in.
The Sports Palace couldn't quite compare to the Harran Stadium in scale. But it did have a grand, modern look about it. Revenants of an event still existed within weathered-down posters—a worldwide mixed martial arts tournament that was in the works for next year.
That future... How laughable and sad that it could never happen.
At first, he had the casual thought of walking through the front doors. Red fireflies wavered in the darkness—the infected's eyes. All dim, cozy, and out of the starting rain for them. No wonder they wandered inside.
But there were other ways a runner like his old self would take.
The first thing he did was notice a pair of orange cables snaking to an emergency door; the other end was linked to another building. The Auditorium and not because he guessed it, but he spied the faint outline of a lone orange skeleton.
Cables meant power. So Crane followed them along the outer boundary of the main building.
"Jack. Did you find Babak?"
"Runners' with them," on the comms, he listened to Jack answering the young teenager. "Freakazoid and I are getting the Auditorium cleaned up in the meantime."
"Good. Good," Siv's voice trailed off. "Doc said that Nazmi hasn't woken up yet, even though the sedative has worn off."
A bad sign. A survivor who was bedridden for too long—anyone could see that as a liability.
"All we can do is wait for his quick recovery," Jack colored her words. "Keep me posted."
"Wait, Jack… There's something else I wanted to talk about."
"Sure, Siv. We can talk all you want after this," Jack said. Even Kyle had to agree; not a good time now for a random call.
"It's about Peri…" Of course, she'd talk anyway. Jack did nothing to stop her. "I was with her when she disappeared."
"I know."
"Wait, wha- "
"It's not that hard to piece things together, hon."
"Right," Siv added a self-deprecating laugh. "...I should have hid it better."
"Wouldn't do you any good."
"Yeah... Peri was my partner for that run and...I screwed up. I taught everyone how to do parkour and I made one stupid mistake."
It finally spilled out of the young teenager—what she had hidden from everyone at the Junction. A part of her shell came right off. It would have been an uglier sight if she had talked to the brunette face-to-face.
"She would still be here if I didn't get bitten. I should have been the one to have gone after Rusal."
Kyle almost wanted to speak up. His old self almost crawled out of him. But with how terrified the teenager had been, chased by a Day Hunter, Crane could only stay silent and listen to the conversation. Hearing a monstrous voice in the middle of it would just make things worse.
"But she told you to stay when you were injured," Jack said, like it was a matter of fact. "She's a good friend. Hard to make these days."
"Friend?" Siv scoffed. Torn on the spot. She wanted to explode. "We barely knew each other. S-Saying we girls gotta stick together... She broke my number one rule too!"
"And that is?"
"You can't save everyone." A reality check, a realistic rule. "That's how it is now!"
"But she couldn't turn her back on you. Or Rusal."
One deep sigh out from the other end. "She couldn't... That's who she is… She's fierce. Kinda like you, Jack."
Peri couldn't say no and leave someone to die, not even take a no from Siv. That kind of attitude was what forced Siv to stay behind for her own safety. Over and over, she refused Siv's request to follow her. Told her she would be back once she would find that idiot trapper, Rusal. A person she didn't know much couldn't leave another to their death. But she was very sure Peri wanted to live too. Just as much as she did.
"We're in this together."
"Through thick and thin," Jack finished.
Boy, her motivational speeches could make her rich with how well she sold it with little words. It even convinced Crane, but he had some restraint. Still, he could agree that a little bit of encouragement could be a good thing. People like the young teenager really needed that.
"Jack?" Siv mumbled at first but she forced herself to ask. "You… You can find Peri...right?"
The question hit at the heartstrings - like any question Crane had been asked in the past. And the answer he always replied never set the bar high but also never low. He couldn't make promises.
So he was a little apprehensive about what Jack's answer would be.
It was only seconds but the waiting was excruciating.
"I can… But it might not be what you want."
Crane heard the sound of a deep inhale. If he had to guess; Siv prepared herself. Swallowing her fear and doubt for the better...and the worst.
"...I still want to know."
Jack said nothing back, her silence acknowledging Siv's request.
All the more resolve in Crane to find the end of the cables and get the power online. Reaching to an emergency exit, he snuck right in, as quiet as any other infected.
A groan somewhere told him no entrance! Though, he let his imagination tell him that. Before, the sight of an infected frightened him so much that he went into fight-or-fight. With his weird mutated vision, it wasn't entirely the case. Colors weren't the same colors to him at night and under sunlight, it was almost like going partially blind. Moreover, he couldn't sense the infected like before. So he was forced to adapt.
But that was the thing. He could adapt. Or in a terrifying way, his body could. Now and then, new discoveries would come to him or naturally reveal themselves without him noticing. With a few breaths, Kyle concentrated—in the darkness, his vision grayed, but in the midst, red figures lit up like Christmas tree lights. Hissing, growling, arms jerking aimlessly, the infected stayed planted in their spots.
Natural night vision. He didn't like that.
Honestly, he didn't think having a clear mind after a few breathing techniques could help hone that ability. But he couldn't complain. Crane could avoid these freaks without having to always be engaged in a fight. All because they didn't want him present.
Even after his whole 'reliving', the infected were still a pain in the neck to him.
As long as they didn't cross paths with him on his way to the generator room, his trip going there would be fine. Both parties didn't need to confront each other. Plus, no Volatiles. What more could he ask for?
A stab with the bone blade did solve some of the problems for Crane.
An abrupt noise echoed over the comms, making him stop in his tracks. The sound of someone's skull splitting open against moldy wood. "Those jailbirds really spruced up the place. And pretty shoddy too. A miracle any Volatile has walked in - Oh, wait. Never mind."
"There's a Volatile on your end."
"More than one. Place's turned into a bloody dark zone."
"Do you want me to take over?" he offered.
"No, no. I got this," she sang, which rubbed him off. That playful level of confidence in her tone… Not on par with Rahim's but…
He stopped himself before he finished that thought. Now wasn't a time to dwell in the past.
Crane headed for a set of stairs, expecting that going down meant he'd find the generator. But what waited for him was the section cut off by water—another downside from the previous storm.
"You gotta be kidding me."
"What?"
"This part of the floor's flooded." Unfortunately enough, the cables went into the water. Which meant somewhere, the end could be wet. "Dunno if the generator's still intact."
"Only one way to find out."
Yeah, she had to say that. She wasn't doing this part of the job. With no retort, Crane steeled himself as he sauntered forward.
"Geezus! It's cold!" He clutched his mouth shut, but the thought still came loud in his head. One deep inhale, and Kyle sank down into the dark, murky water.
Sound was gone. His special eyesight went blurry. Ploughing through in this new form felt the same as in his old body. Even underwater, a Day Hunter was at its mercy—without the instant death every other infected faced.
The orange cables across the floor became his only guide, leading him down and then onward while he pushed aside a flowing corpse along the way. It didn't take long for the cables to go up, and Crane followed, his head hitting the surface.
A loud exhale out with sound and the weird, screwed-up eyesight back. He had to be at the end of this little adventure, right?
Ka-caaak!
Thunder roared, telling him the clouds were closing in.
Gotta hurry, he thought. He climbed out of the water and sprinted down the shambled-looking corridor. At one maintenance door, the cables slipped through the crack.
Crane let out a sigh of relief when he found the large, green generator intact at the end of the cables. The fluorescent lights above him already gave that away. The machine hummed too—so it spurred back to life once the city's power came back. The reason for the Auditorium still being pitch black was that the cables had been pulled off the socket.
Simple fix.
A spark did fly once he plugged it back in. He waited.
"We have light," Jack sounded pleased. "That's right. Scurry off, you mongrels!"
Sounded like she had a good time. Though the word, mongrel... Something about the word irked him for some reason.
"Better move those people in. Storm's picking up."
Now to get out of the basement. No way would he take the way back—Kyle spotted the door out of the generator room and went through that way. The way Crane walked out of the basement acted as a funnel—the rest of the basement barring infected off to keep the generator safe. Once he made his way to the ground floor, he pondered finding his way out of the building from there.
The Sports Palace truly showed its size inside and out. He could see the remnants of a taekwondo event in one large hall and the broken equipment for judo in another stadium. Maybe just the preparations before the virus hit the city, with the seats empty of spectators, dead or undead.
Although the place had power, most of the lights flickered out. Again, Crane was in the dark, seeing with his second vision.
"Gamph!"
Another warning hiss from a nearby Viral, then it casually stood still as if the switch inside its skull had turned off. If Crane got a little closer, that switch slowly turned back on. Basically, telling him to keep his distance.
Nevertheless, if a Viral did attack because it got ticked off by his growing presence, it would get what it deserved for throwing a fit at him.
It didn't take too long to get his bearings inside the complex. Looking around at the inner architecture, he could make his way to a large foyer.
Ka-caaak!
At the corner of his eye, under the flash of lightning, he saw a glimpse of Jack down a hall.
That couldn't be right.
"Jack?"
"Yes?" That came from his earpiece, not ahead of him.
"Uh... Thought I saw something," he lied.
"Is it dangerous?"
"No," Crane replied quickly. "...Probably my eyes playing tricks on me."
"Hm..." With a frown, he didn't know whether to take that response as if she bought it or saw through it. "Don't linger too long."
A polite warning for him not to overstay his welcome, but Crane didn't leave just yet. Against his better judgement—no, more with an itch—he wandered down that same hall. Like following after the shiny sparkle of a trinket in the dark. Under his feet cracked the sound of shattered glass from display cases. Medals and trophies littered the floor in disarray.
Ka-caaak!
The thunder roared closer. The whole hall became bright several times. Again, he thought he saw someone.
Someone very familiar.
KA-CAAAK!
The lightning struck again at its loudest, showing a person's unreadable and zombified face, glaring at him.
Jade.
The flashes came back, but not from the rain.
But Jade came running at him—inside the museum, not the main building—with the same, haunting infected face he last saw.
Kyle rose right out of the flashback.
"N-No-!"
He tumbled back. Something caught his leg.
No! NO!
Crane particularly clawed his way back on his feet. He ran. Away from the ghost. As fast as he could.
He could hear Jade's savage groans mixed among the stragglers. They snarled at him behind—you're not welcome!
Get out! screamed the other voice, over someone else's echoing in his ear.
It had been a while since he heard it at the back of his head. Running wasn't enough; he wanted out. Far away from the nightmares. Desperation fueled him to fire out a tendril and literally grapple himself faster.
"Gah!"
He didn't see a large platform in the way. Crane flopped right over, and his tendril unweaved itself off its hook. Quickly, he got back up and shoved off a hostile Biter coming his way. His mind hollered to keep going.
Light was at the end of the tunnel. His only saving grace! But these people... They blocked his way!
His fight-or-flight response drove him to make his way without stopping. No time to understand why everyone snapped at him. Crane dove right out of the opened main entrance, the very thing he didn't walk in at the start.
Spotlights greeted him as he dashed out. Freedom! He was almost free-!
"Freakazoid!"
Suddenly, he found himself stopped by someone in the rain. The stranger in red pulled him away from the sudden scorching feeling on his skin. UV? It took a second to notice the blue light glaring down in the courtyard, and a couple of blinks for Kyle to find himself staring at his reflection in Jack's shades.
He couldn't read her whole expression, but he had an idea. He wheeled back to see a few hunched infected scramble back indoors from the UV lights.
"Hey. Look at me." He saw two fingers right to his face. Then watched them back to Jack, steadying the blurriness in his vision.
Finally, he could see again. Think clearly. Breathe in, breathe out.
"Alright?"
Crane shakily nodded. He got this. He had to. Jack's grip finally loosened.
"Ok, Freakazoid. You can't pretend you're not having a withdrawal-"
"No," Crane quickly denied. "It's not like that. I… I'm fine."
"You're fine?" she muttered, unconvinced. "Freakazoid, you stood in UV light."
"J-Just give me a minute, ok?"
It wasn't too hard to give that to him. But Jack's furrowed brow didn't lighten up.
"You know. There's a word for what you're feeling right now."
"Oh, yeah? What?" he gruffed tiredly, expecting another stupid joke.
"It's called trauma."
But the funny delivery didn't come out. Instead, something else did, catching Kyle completely off-guard. That kind of answer just...
"Seriously. You told me everything. But what in the world happened to you to be this messed up?" Jack asked for the second time, sounding worried.
No. Not everything.
Only a few things. He couldn't say many, but some things did happen. But he also couldn't tell Jack what they were. Crane wasn't ready to fully open that closet door.
She couldn't know. Not yet.
Forcefully, he reeled himself back—was it determination, pride, or driving stupidity? Whatever the reason, he didn't want to show weakness. So he diverted the conversation, just as he had done so many times before.
"We should get those people indoors. Before the rain gets worse."
"Sure. Runners are already doing that." No, enough of her probing! "We should talk about this-"
"I'm fine," he lied. Both vocally and loudly. His way of saying no more prying from Jack. "There's nothing to talk about."
That silenced her. This time, she backed off. She knew enough when to back off, and the only choice she had was to oblige.
It was a fine and dangerous line she tried to cross. Right on the edge too.
"I'll stay on watch." Half a reminder they were on a job, half an excuse to himself. Crane didn't stop to listen and hurried out for the entrance. He wanted out of this place.
Eventually, Jack would leave too. Eventually, he'd be able to calm himself down in the roof canopy.
Eventually.
It just needed time for things to go back to normal… But the irony of that: what was normal?
Everything around him had never been normal.
But Crane had to try to feel normal. If it meant lying to himself, then it would be alright. Hey, he was an infected, not a human. Infected don't feel.
The rain lightened up. The sky remained dark—the night would soon follow.
Despite that, all of it gave him a bit of respite. Just for a while.
When the cloudiness cleared in his head, he turned to the Auditorium. Jack hurried through the street without drawing the infected's attention, up to the Auditorium's now protected entrance.
From the comms, Crane listened to the conversation like always. Let Jack be the speaker.
"How's everyone?"
"More or less better," Serkan spoke with the same tone she had always listened to: the reassurance had been weathered down over time. But quickly, he tried to hide it. "But they're safe now. We'll stay with them till everyone's fully settled in."
"Don't hesitate to ask. Need me to retrieve something and I'll find it in a tick."
The runner nodded, feeling Jack's light-hearted offer chipping a piece off his weariness
"Jack!"
Babak came bolting out of the Auditorium, against Serkan's better wishes. The man had something to say—anyone could see it easily in his eyes.
"Those convicts. A-And the Orphanage-"
"We know," Jack assured him. "Alexander's men have been taking people out of Safe Zones-"
"It's not just that," he stopped her. Took a moment to gather his thoughts so he could speak coherently. "We had that base ready. We were ready for that blackout. B-But the generators. They were turned off!"
"They were sabotaged," Jack immediately put two and two together.
"Alexander... He waited for us. We were forced out of the Orphanage and they...they took them. Under my watch."
"Babak. There was nothing you could have done."
"I know that! We were backed into a corner." Babak fell silent for a second with furrowed eyebrows. "The infected jumped on us from behind too."
"Carl said the same thing as well."
Front and back. The Orphanage had no escape, even if they tried. But those parts of the story seemed uncanny to her the more she pondered… Jack memorized the whole layout, where points of weakness had been boarded up and fortified. Yet it all tumbled down without so much of a fight.
No way the infected could break in from the back that quickly either... Unless someone invited them in.
"They shouldn't have gotten in," Babak shook his open hands, a gesture telling her he had been wrapping his mind around the incident. "We had no choice but to let Alexander take us."
That begged the question in Jack's head: was it planned?
Doubtful. She couldn't give that man credit for predicting that the infected would herd the flock into their arms. So just dumb luck?
"Babak. Did they do anything to you? Injecting you with a serum or something?" she then continued.
That surprised him. Horrified. "...They did some rabies tests on us. Tossed the healthy ones in the cafeteria."
So no ties to the vial testing she found earlier. But the same MO. So they were separate incidents.
The glimpse of determination rekindled back in the Maths teacher's face. "Jack. They still have some of my people. Just before you came, they hurled some of us away."
"...The trucks."
The answer of how Jack could have missed seeing another group of hostages came to her ear. Her eyes widened at the realization. Of course. In all the panic, the first few trucks that had driven right out of the schoolyard.
"Did they say where they were taking them?"
Babak shook his head defeatedly. "They wouldn't tell us."
A futile question that Jack had wondered why she ever bothered. Perhaps hoping for a hint, regardless of how tiny it could have been.
"Please, Jack. You have to find them." Now the request was too high for her liking. She didn't stop the poor man from grabbing her with that suffocating desperation. "They took the sick ones too! Some of them aren't even infected."
A discomforting look at the outcome. No one would think twice if they thought they were as good as dead.
"We'll do what we can to find them," was all Jack could offer, as level-headed as she had always been. That gave a bit of hope, but also a small taste of reality, to the poor teacher.
Enough for him to rest for the night.
Once settled, Jack took off. One thing made itself clear: the little pieces she had noticed one by one fell together in an unnerving way, but they still didn't connect easily.
And the longer she let them simmer, the more she worried about what outcome they could lead to.
What on earth is Alexander up to?
Although the rain damped every surface around, the basic knowledge in parkour proved enough for Jack to scale up and maneuver around swiftly and carefully. Up there did she find Freakazoid, pondering over the edge of the city canopy.
"Penny for your thoughts?" A comeback she had used before during his amnesiac phase, but this time, genuine.
Freakazoid didn't stir, having one of those moments of regret she had seen before. Already, the thoughts were easy to figure out: what could he have done? It was all under his watch, and so on.
"...Why didn't I see them?"
How could you, she would have asked. Especially the inconsistencies she has noticed with his eyesight, day and night.
"They drove them right out of the school… I could have stopped them."
"Then you would have abandoned the others inside. This operation is too big for two people to handle."
It couldn't have gone any better if they could have handled it differently; Jack already anticipated it. The only problematic issue she now noticed was Freakazoid keeping this self-loathing going.
At least, this time, he didn't berate her for her grey morality. Perhaps he had his fair share of the outbreak before he turned.
Hard to hope after everything has fallen down.
"But we can always follow up."
Jack's suggestion lightened up the Day Hunter. An odd habit she has been doing as of late—every time Freakazoid looked disheartened or frustrated, she couldn't help but offer a leeway if possible. All because he looked like a poor mutt with his tail down.
She would have accepted it and moved on...if it weren't for Alexander.
"Ender. Riza. You there?" Jack finally started the next conversation on the comms. The one she has been trying to make before the whole ordeal.
"We're always around," came Ender's calm voice.
"But you do know we don't run 24/7," Riza interrupted. "Sun's almost setting."
"Better be prepared to do some overtime. Have you heard anything about vehicles driving around lately?"
"Vehicles, huh? These streets aren't really that open to plow through."
"But if you mean modified trucks with spikes and armed drivers, a few buyers have spotted them before. Said they belong to Alexander."
"How about today?" Jack persuaded.
A pause in the comms. "We did see some driving by just now."
"They're holding precious cargo or something?" Ender asked.
"Civilians." Jack already predicted the traders' surprise over the line. "They've been kidnapping and trafficking infected folks off to some ungodly place."
"Wait. What? Why?" Riza exclaimed.
"Your question is as good as mine."
"And you want us tailing after these trucks?" Ender proposed boldly.
Surprisingly, the proposal didn't bring a grin to the Wild Dog. "Leave that job to me, Ender. These criminals aren't people you can reason with."
"They're criminals. Of course, you can't."
Jack sighed at the bluntness in that reply. "Ravs aren't about being heroes. You Grads said so yourselves."
"C'mon, Jack. You gotta give us some credit." Riza uttered. "Heroes don't have to be loud and upfront all the time."
"That best be the case," she rebuked firmly. "Let me know immediately once you find those trucks."
What a strange sight to watch—if it had been himself, Crane would be placed at a stalemate. Dealing with high optimism in the middle of chaos couldn't end on a high note. So he tried to compromise…
Tried and failed anyway.
Jack's way of handling things differed from his. Professionalism, for sure. And maybe one fact: how well-oiled he's noticed among a handful of Ravs. Overall, different from the past Jack in the dreams.
"Will do."
"Also," she stopped them from leaving the call. "GRE has been eavesdropping with all that equipment you two discovered."
"On the whole city, right? Kinda not that hard to guess," Ender pointed.
"That also includes our conversations. They know about you two."
"Well… That puts a damper on our business plans, doesn't it, Ender?"
"How much do they know?"
"Enough before the blackout. But nothing about our group."
"That's still not good."
"So we're gonna have to change channels again?" the young, spunky trader complained.
"Until they decide to go back to those little hidey-holes of theirs."
"So we really can't make a profit out of them," Ender murmured.
"Wow. Talk about a step back in business."
"That's the least of our worries," Jack interrupted. "The real problem is Talo's group."
"Really? They're completely out of range."
"Riza. The high-tech surveillance equipment we found."
"Oh. Right…"
"We'll send a message to Geyong. See if she can get a hold of them."
"Asem's not gonna be happy about this."
"Nobody's happy," Jack ended.
The look on the brunette's face said it all to Crane, even after the call ended. She thought deeply, mildly irritated over what she couldn't figure out.
"Something wrong?"
Jack lifted her head. The one good thing about Freakazoid was that he had more brain cells than the common infected. He could catch on, to some degree. And discussing thoughts helped.
"Where do I start? GRE or Alexander?"
"Is there a difference?"
"I suppose it's how you look at it," she started. "Human-testing and now eavesdropping on the common folk in quarantine zones. GRE's multitasking, the more you think about it."
"I mean, they have those prisoners working for them."
"Are they? Or is it the other way around?"
That caught Kyle off guard. As far as he's seen, Alexander's men and the GRE worked separately—a given that an organization didn't want anyone to know the association. But their actions didn't align together...
"What's the point of looting one of the GRE's spots right behind their backs? They could have asked for it."
"…I heard one of them say something about insurance. 'Before GRE does'."
Jack's face darkened. "A vaccine. How else can you convince a prison full of criminals to work for you."
Now it was Crane's turn to frown behind his scarf. "That's crazy. There's no guarantee they'll get one."
"They don't need to know now. Desperate men don't stop to think."
How right she was. He had gone down that rabbit hole a few times…
"Then there's those logs too." Logs? Crane wasn't on the same page, but he listened. "Seems like GRE is looking for a specific person."
"The Solak guy, right?"
"I don't think so…" Jack didn't look convinced by that answer, which ushered out Crane's doubt too. On an old archaeologist? Even if it had to do with minor politics, GRE would unlikely make him a top-priority target.
So maybe some other poor bastard pissed them off, he thought to himself.
"...Whoever this target is," she started. "They sure pissed them off."
Everything except the rain fell silent for a while. He could almost hear the gears in Jack's head tick. Not easy for her to let go.
What now, he wanted to ask. But the silence unwelcomed him. He already knew the answer—they would have to wait. Whether a response from the two traders or something else came into their radar. With night approaching, that might take time. All too familiar to Crane.
Questions for another day.
The feeling felt…'floaty' to him again. Light as air. Crane found himself in a different place, as if he had been put there with no rhyme or reason.
Then he realized it... Another dream.
He couldn't snap himself out of it; his feet felt trapped. All he could do was go along with watching another scene of the movie.
This time, he was at a hospital. Busy like any hospital. Maybe it took place just when the virus hit Harran. But Kyle didn't see any severely-sick people or the waiting area packed to the brim while doctors and nurses rushed about. It was probably the calmest day for the place to be.
Though, he definitely saw her, leaving a room not too far away.
"I don't know what to tell you. A complete mystery, if you ask me."
"Really? Sounds like I should recommend you to another physician," came another voice as she exited the door. One too familiar to Kyle.
"Lena."
The physician didn't hear Crane call out her name. Another ghost of the past, but Kyle couldn't believe it. That was Lena, all right. Not in the set of clothes the last time he saw her, looking haggard and barely smiling in an outbreak. This Lena wore a white, clean coat over comfy clothes and a friendly beam.
"Now that's being silly," Jack jested. "It's been what? Almost three years? You know me better than anyone here."
"Of course. I'm the only one who knows how to handle you. Your last physiotherapist went home crying," Lena said.
"Ah, but he didn't know how bad my needle phobia is," the brunette continued. No shame.
"Now that's a lie, if I ever heard one."
Jack easily gave in, palms up to show her surrender—this seemed like common banter between the two. Crane couldn't believe it. Just as he couldn't believe she knew Lena.
It was a dream. So everything he witnessed? His imagination just blurred the lines and mixed things around to screw Crane's opinion about Jack more.
Right?
"All seriousness aside, you should make an appointment. When was the last time you had a cat scan?"
"Never had one. I don't see what the fuss is over a small bump."
"That bump on your head is recent. Hasn't it been months since your last match?"
"It's just a bit of extra training. Big tournament coming up," Jack explained. But for some reason, Crane could tell something slithered in her words.
Rather, it was the same way he twisted his words. A lie.
"Mert's got nothing to do with this."
"I never said he did. But Mert's also your manager," Lena pointed with the stern composure of a professional. "He should know."
Jack's past self fell silent. That took Crane by surprise—she couldn't smooth-talk her way out of this conversation. Yeah, this was Lena. No one in the Tower could and should question her when she literally held their life in her hands.
"And Harris?"
Lena said nothing to that at first. "That's between you and him. I don't talk about my patients outside of work."
"Client confidentiality, of course."
Lena huffed with an applauding tone. But easily, she wore back the usual doctor's serious face. "Think about it, ok, Jack? It's just an MRI. Doesn't hurt to be sure."
Again, Jack didn't speak. She still held her smiling façade as sturdy as a shield to the suggestion. So Crane couldn't help but wonder why there was a need to stall.
"Jack?"
Crane's gut twisted when he heard Rahim's voice again. The two ladies turned back to see another face in the hall, looking at Jack with a rare expression of worry.
"Rahim? What are you doing here?" Jack exclaimed, just as surprised at his sudden appearance as he was to hers.
"That's my line. I thought you hated hospitals."
"While Jack has always been open about herself, that doesn't mean she shouldn't skip her checkups. That would be the end of Wild Dog's career," Lena intervened.
"Hey, now. That comes across as a threat there," the brunette ushered in a laugh, but it fell flat. Because rarely did the other woman make jokes.
The physician gave no sign of denying it. "You're Rahim, right? I've heard about you from Harris."
"Really?" The young man perked up with the widest smile ever. Which meant bad news to Crane. Rahim quickly cleared his voice. "Well, yeah," he boasted proudly. "I'm his best student after all."
"Don't get full of yourself. You're still halfway through those advanced classes."
Rahim showed no sign of discouragement at the brunette's jeer, supported more by Lena's lighthearted laughter. But he put away his pride as his apprehensive eyes took their place. No, not just worry, but also caution.
"So. I heard something about an MRI? It's not because of those men, right?"
"What men?"
Jack's eyes bugged wide—Rahim!
"Ahahaha. Rahim, such a kidder." Immediately, the brunette lassoed him around the neck. The young lad particularly wrestled for freedom of speech but he could do nothing with the iron grip on his mouth. "I'll see you again, Lena. Got some catching up to do."
"...Sure." No doubt Lena wouldn't forget that. She was a sharp one, after all. Never once before had she asked Jack questions, but that didn't mean she'd feign some ignorance. "Remember what I said."
"I'll keep it in mind." Jack literally dragged the boy several feet away—the invisible invader, Crane, being the only one who followed—and then she hissed through clenched teeth, "Really, that mouth of yours."
"What's your problem?" Rahim finally wriggled himself free from the Wild Dog's clutches. "She's your nurse, isn't she-?"
"Physician. If she had heard that from you, she'd slap you with her own cert," Jack rebuked. "And you should be minding your own business."
"Hey, I saved your ass. If I wasn't there, you could have really landed in the hospital."
Did something happen...that Crane should know about? However, no one in the dream would answer him. For the better—it had to be bad news with these two.
Jack struggled on the spot, torn to say one thing over the other. She spoke out about her comeback instead. "You really shouldn't have eavesdropped back then."
Rahim shook his head with a crafty smile. As if he caught her in his trap.
"Wow, I'm hurt." He acted, looking hurt on the spot. "A simple 'Oh, thank you, Rahim. You're my hero!' can go a long way." And up his arms, folding together with contempt. As if he became the adult in this conversation.
Oh, this lad was insufferable! Crane could read it in Jack's mannerisms—looking the part at wanting to wring her hands around his neck at his persistence.
She could have stopped there, just so she couldn't bloat up his ego. The bloody guilt trip made it, however, more difficult.
"...I'm not going to say I wasn't grateful."
"And you're welcome. See? Don't we make a good team together?"
"Since when did you decide that?" Her upper lip curled with disdain. Boy, Crane could relate. "More importantly."
Rahim flinched back from the growing glare of a wolf. As quick as a rabbit. What did he do wrong?
"You didn't come for another stitching, did you?"
"No!" He lifted up his hands. "I'm clean, ok? And we agreed we wouldn't talk about that 'incident'," Rahim exclaimed.
"Why?" she asked.
"Jade and I are visiting our mom here."
"Oh, wonderful. The next person I shouldn't be seeing." Jack's eyes narrowed even tighter, the glare drilling a hole deep enough that he sank his head down.
"Hey, now. I tried my best."
"Oh, I know. Thanks to you, that fiasco your sister did is on every sports channel."
"I mean…" Rahim shrunk back, trying to smooth-talk out of this. "It makes good publicity, right?"
All Jack could do was sigh heavily. Exactly to who would buy that stunt as publicity? Jack didn't expect the level of fame or infamy to skyrocket. Or for the older sibling to snap at her after Rahim's short stay at her apartment.
No, she knew why. Jade had never met her cousin, so she turned to the next person for the broadside.
"Look. You two are grown-ass adults." Acting all like an honest gentleman, or lack thereof, the young man ringed his arm around hers and led the way. A bloody Scout boy trying to help a lost granny, much to Jack's annoyance. "You both can talk this over and move on. Tell her parkouring is no big deal. Let bygones be bygones, I always say."
"When have you ever said that," Crane murmured to himself.
No matter how bright and deceivingly optimistic Rahim's smile flashed, it couldn't penetrate Jack's cold frown.
"You do know this isn't going to work."
"Mom's here, so Jade has to be on her best behavior. C'mon." He released her from his grip and walked a little too quickly down the hall.
Jack dry-heaved. "Why do I listen to you…"
Reluctant. But the woman strolled after Rahim. It almost tempted Crane to follow. No, he shouldn't. All of this was a figment of his imagination. He should be able to wake up if he did not go along with the story.
But Kyle followed. He wanted to know.
"Hey, Mama! I got a new heating pad for ya."
"Rahim. Oh, you shouldn't have."
"And look who I walked into!" he exclaimed before pulling at the arm of the unwilling brunette. Then a harder tug with a frown when she wouldn't budge.
Jack went against her free will before Crane strayed into the room with a careful, almost timid pace.
Beep... beep... the heart monitor echoed. By the bedside sat Jade and on the bed was an older woman. He could see the clear comparison between the two—same facial features, same eye color, same hair color, etc; a mother and daughter, but the difference came in health. The older woman in hospital garb laid with heavy, sullen eyes but also the strongest smile she could muster for her two children.
Crane flinched, almost thinking she had noticed him.
"Jade," Jack greeted.
Immediately, the young kickboxer frowned deeply at the sight of Jack. At Rahim too. If Crane didn't know better, this situation looked so familiar to him that he could guess from the earlier conversation. Rahim did something Jade didn't like, and now, Jack was getting the heat for this guy. And it had to do with parkour.
"Fancy meeting you here," the brunette continued.
"Who's this?" the mother asked.
"Jack Brecken," Rahim took the helm, his arms spread wide at the brunette's entrance. "The Wild Dog, herself!"
"This is the woman you've been talking about?" That question was directed to Jade, who averted her gaze with embarrassment after the mother uttered a soft laugh. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Jack nodded politely.
"Well, come in. No need to be shy," the mother uttered as if having already sensed the tension in the room. "Wish I could have something prepared but…" Even with the smile, both strong and weak at the same time, she wanted to display a sense of hospitality. "Hard to do that nowadays."
"It's all right," Jack assured in a quiet tone.
Jade's face softened as she turned back to her mother, giving a tight squeeze to her hand. "I gotta go. Need to clear some papers by today."
"So soon? But your friend just got here."
"She's my rival, mama. You don't make friends in the ring."
"Of course not..." the older woman said, a little disheartened and heaving out a sigh.
"I'll come again. Same time tomorrow." Jade's pace went a lot quicker as she swung her satchel over her shoulder and headed for the door.
"Jade," Rahim stood in her way, prompting out a deeper frown from her. "You can't stay angry-"
"We'll talk about this. At home," Jade quietly hissed. With a shrug that the mother couldn't see, the young kickboxer bolted off.
"I told you."
Rahim glared, eyes wide, at Jack after her mutter. Give him some credit for trying!
"Don't mind her," the mother intervened. "She's always been protective about her little brother."
"I'm not little anymore. Give me another year and I'll be at Jade's height." He hopped over to his mother's bedside before handing over the newly bought pad. A tight squeeze of the frail hands on his as thanks—one arm strapped with the IV drip.
"Every day, I see less of my boy. Where did he go?" His mother reached out tenderly, a gesture she had done so many times, grasping him by the cheek to have a better look before combing back some of his stray hair with her hand. "He grew up so fast."
"Mama," he whined, pushing her hand down to cease the tidy-up. Not in front of someone! There was even a little expression of…hurt in him. "I'm still here."
"I think that's alright. He has a sort of maturity about him," a surprise being pointed out from Jack, of all people. But she finished off, "besides his cockiness."
"Hey." Not too sure if that was a delivery to his earlier comeback for gratitude. Now the lad truly regretted bringing Jack along.
And she wasn't done with the selling either.
"Heart of gold, too. I can see a bright future with this one." She glanced back at the lad. With a stink eye. "If he puts his mind to it."
"And here I thought he'd been in all sorts of trouble lately." Then came the double blow from the bed—the kind of disappointed stare any mother would give to her child.
"You know, I'm feeling parched." Rahim immediately stood up. "Anyone wants a drink? No?" He waved his thumbs back and forth to the open door, ignoring Jack's shake of her head—and, in no way, disagreeing or agreeing to a drink. "Be right back."
And he bolted, footsteps so loud that his sneakers particularly shrieked across the floor. Retreating all so he wouldn't be in a room with two women nagging at his faults.
Jack heaved out a dry sigh before the mother's soft chuckle prompted her to drop it. Hard not to get mad at him.
"Never would have imagined him taking such an extreme hobby. Parkour, right?"
"Sorry about that." Jack sheepishly scratched her head. "Was helping my cousin out with his work."
"I certainly don't like it. But I haven't seen him look this carefree in a long time," the mother explained, smirking. "Rarely keeps secrets from his family before."
Jack almost uttered another sigh but the older woman's hum stopped her. Almost like this mess had changed up the atmosphere of the hospital room for her—in a positive way.
"He really takes after his sister," the mother added. "And Jade's more like her father." Right before the brunette, it seemed as if she went down memory lane inside her mind. Just by closing her eyes for a second. "When Rahim was just a baby, she told me she'd take over for Papa. Particularly took him under her wing growing up."
The ladies chuckled together. Crane found himself smiling too. If Rahim was here, he'd never let it go. He could imagine the little guy trying to convince Crane that it didn't happen.
"Jade is right," Jack moved on the topic. "We're just contenders. Fans won't like it if their favorite fighters stop to make friendship bracelets, Mrs Aldemir."
"Miss Derviş. I haven't been called 'Mrs' in a long time," she corrected her. "There's nothing saying you can't talk to a contender's mother. So call me Nora."
"Alright, Nora."
The mother smiled. Good. She might not have forgiven Jack with last names. "I know how those...combat sports go." Nora tried to find the right word, letting a slice of her parental opinion out. "It's barbaric. But everyone sees it as entertainment."
Jack chuckled. "People love to get a thrill at someone else's expense."
Nora flared her nostrils. "That shouldn't stop you two to be on good terms outside of work."
"A bit too late on that." The brunette gave a quick glance at the room's hanging television. "If you've been keeping up with the news."
"Jade's not the kind of person to hold grudges. She's never held one against any opponent."
"Is that true?" Jack almost didn't believe it until Nora nodded. Even more peculiar was the bit of openness within the mother's words. "For someone who dislikes the sport, you're rather alright about her taking it as a career path. Reckoned you'd be more opposed to it."
There was a slight pause, the older woman scanning Jack from top to bottom. She couldn't help but tense up—felt like she was back as a child.
"Miss Brecken, do you have a family?"
"Jack," she suggested to Nora, and then shook her head. "No. Never been one to settle down."
"Really? But the way you handled Rahim, I thought…" Nora trailed off, almost as if elevating a previous thought in her head as a wrong assumption. Instead, she moved on after shaking her head. "…No mother would be happy to hear their daughter suddenly saying "I'm gonna take up kickboxing"."
"I'd imagine you were vivid when Jade first started."
"Oh. I said my piece. Many times. Didn't stop her. She got that stubbornness from me."
"Aye, I can see that in Rahim too. The lad can't say no to anything."
That cracked out a laugh, too robust for Nora's weak body that she had to steady herself. All so her guest wouldn't notice. But Jack already did.
"I just hope those two keep loving what they love most." Nora's content weakened. "Things...haven't been the same for us since I came here."
Blunt and brutal. No way of sugarcoating it from Jack; if she had to guess, the future had already looked so bleak to Nora, and she accepted it. She could only imagine how her perspective was warped, thanks to the illness. The grim reality punished a family of three, and normality had been thrown into turmoil.
"You can ask."
Jack leaned back in her seat. Omph, what a way for Nora to put her on the spot. Even her sickly expression welcomed her to ask, despite the tiredness of saying the answer over and over.
"All the more I shouldn't," Jack countered. "You don't need another broken record."
"Heh. Yeah…" Nora admitted with a solacing gaze. "I've flown off the rails a couple of times… It gets harder to feel…normal, especially when your body doesn't believe it. But I gotta press on! Tell everyone, "I'm fine!"."
The cheery outburst seemed to shake with a built-up emotion, almost wanting to express to the world the exact opposite. But Nora's fatigue wouldn't allow that.
"Sorry," she apologized. "I've been stuck here for so for long, you just-"
"You get mad at the world," Jack cut her short.
Nora glanced at the brunette—if she didn't know it better, she'd think Jack was a good reader of the situations. "Speaking from experience?"
Jack shrugged her shoulders. "Everyone deals with their problems their own way."
That, Nora could agree. She didn't pry on what her guest's problems were; they were only acquaintances after all.
"You don't need to hear this woman complain," the mother quickly pointed.
Jack, however, welcomed it. "It's like kickboxing. The other opponent knows how to take a hit."
Nora's eyes widened with surprise on the spot. She relaxed back, grateful. For the first time, someone other than her own children offered an ear. What a strange person, those two have met.
"Wish everyone else was as thick-skinned as you," Nora droned before shaking a fist in the air. "Then I'll give them a one-two."
"Don't know if Jade would be thrilled or horrified to learn her mother can punch."
"I have never raised a hand at my own kids. But they know how crossed I can get." The mother raised and shook a finger, as any mother would on discipline. That firm hand dropped down as she took a moment to rest. "...I'm grateful to have them. In many ways, I am lucky to be alive this long."
That wiped Jack's soft smirk off her face.
Ah.
So that explained Rahim's facial expressions from before. Explained his and Jade's determination to win prize money quickly.
How much time was Nora running on?
"...Is it cancer?"
As much cautious as Jack tried, it was a question that Nora had fought herself many times from snapping—her mannerisms said it all. Every time, it was never the same, but the context was there, whether out of goodwill or plain ignorance.
Despite Jack's early offer to take the verbal hit, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
"...Lymphoma," Nora answered. "...And the aggressive kind."
Gratitude and anger had happened together many times inside her hospital room. It was the same routine, regardless of the tests, bloodwork, anxiety, and emotional changes the Aldemir family got from the doctors.
It wasn't like the silly soap opera shows anyone watches - nothing was clean and inspirational with something deadly inside one's body.
"Kickboxing… I've never liked it when Jade throws herself like that. The number of times we fought over it…"
Nora's stare was aimless - a mixture of regret and nostalgia swimming inside her head. Every inhale and exhale she gave did help in quelling the feelings down.
"These days...she's been skipping training. Just to make time for me."
A sound by the door caught Crane's attention, but not to the two ladies. At the corner of his eye, just as he turned around, he spotted a figure just shy away from the open door. Back to the wall, a soda can in his hand.
Rahim.
"I've told her. "Don't worry about me. Focus on this big tournament of yours"… Shouldn't miss out on everything just because of me."
Before Jack could say—the same speech everyone gave to the sick mother—Nora stopped her with the proudest smile she could give.
"Did you know? I've watched every match she's in with Rahim. There hasn't been a single day that I miss one, even on this bed," the mother continued.
The conversation had a warmhearted atmosphere that melted down the insidious grip Nora's early words had. Took away the little bits of guilt and melancholy in her guest, even the ghost in the dream.
"I'd have to be stupid if I didn't see how much she loves it. Now I get why. After meeting you in person."
Jack hunched up her brow, despite her best efforts to wear her smile. She didn't get it—or why the sickly woman looked at her with contentment. Did she miss something in the conversation?
All she could do was smile back in an awkward manner. Waiting for an explanation.
Nora simply sat back to rest, her weak body breaking down the strong façade.
"Life's short. It's ok to live without any regrets," Nora explained as wholeheartedly as she could. As strong as she could muster, to be on par with Jack's fighting strength. "So after this big match? I hope you two stay as friends."
The motherly gentleness gradually lowered Jack's iron wall down. With a gracious nod, she accepted the request.
But Crane saw some small hint of reluctance... In her timing.
"You have my word," Jack lied.
Beep...beep...beep-
BEEP!
Out of the blue, a blinding pain pounded at the side of Crane's skull. Like someone gave him a powerful kick. He staggered back, unable to find anything to grip and hold himself steady. The worst part: the heart monitor screeched loudly in one long tone—when a heart stops beating.
When his vision returned, blurry as ever, Crane wasn't in the hospital. He couldn't recognize where he was—or the blob of faces around him. The noise deafened the cheers.
His eyes widened at the one person before him. On the floor. Motionless.
Jack's past self laid there for some reason. Sweat drenched her from head to toe, right through clothes Crane hadn't seen yet in the dreams. They were all Legend brand, with the top in the same red color as her jacket. Geared with fingerless gloves and barefoot, she must have gone through a kickboxing routine.
But the way she rested on the ground, it looked uncomfortable. All wrong.
Almost reminding him of how a person looked after they died.
Jack? What are you doing? Stop fooling around!
Get up!
Crane didn't see blood, but her body wouldn't move at his pleading. Why? She was still breathing! Ragged and heavy...
Get up already!
No one in the audience rushed over to help Jack up. No one knew she had been knocked out cold.
Under the blaring heart monitor's noises, Kyle listened to her breathing growing softer...
"Get up! "
His voice didn't come out. But someone else's did—loud, vivid, and so familiar. Pleading so much for Jack to get up onto her feet.
To the point, he felt someone's tears fall down.
"Gah!"
The next thing he knew, he shot up, panting heavily. His eyes darted around, slowly registering that he wasn't at the hospital but the shackled bedroom inside an abandoned house
Not again.
But Crane should have expected a fourth time, unintentionally invading another dream. Really, his fault for trying to adjust his messed-up internal sleep schedule. But if he didn't do it, he'd never hear the end with Jack. Why did he even agree to it when he was an infected?
Moreover, was this going to be a thing? The dreams seemed so random, but as far as he could tell, they happened at night. Could be three in a row or one after several days—only when he shut his eyes and finally fell asleep.
He almost pondered about switching over to day hours… Almost.
With a deep inhale, he left the comfort of his quickly-made den and made his way to Jack's bunker, high up on a squatting building.
And right away, Crane saw it empty without even needing to approach the blue rays' border.
He nearly panicked. No, calm down. This is Jack we're talking about.
It didn't take that long—it wasn't that hard to miss the only skeleton prancing outside on the street without a care in the world. Crane immediately let out a sigh with a mixture of relief and annoyance. She was damn fortunate that the rain had scared the infected off this fine morning.
Why did it feel like he was the babysitter this whole time… This was why he preferred solo. But, Crane's conscience got the better of him, forcing him to go after the woman in that glaring red jacket.
Jack did stop at one place by the time he reached over. Right in front of the Sports Palace, staring aimlessly at the open doors.
As if contemplating something...
"Mind telling me, what's the occasion for standing out in the open?"
She wheeled around with that unbreakable smirk—almost like she hid that earlier expression from him.
"Doing a little harmless sightseeing. Or do I need to tell you my every move?" she bluntly chided.
"No. Just never see you up this early."
"That's because the morning sun's too bright for me." Really? That sounded kind of childish to him. But the fortress wall Jack wore to anyone slowly crumpled a little, much to his surprise. "Haven't had much sleep lately."
The dreams, right? Crane held that question in. So he said this instead.
"...Want to talk about it?"
Nothing out of the talkative ex-kickboxer. Almost like she waited for something—not for the current situation to improve or turn around or future endeavors, but…
She chuckled softly, breaking the hanging silence. "It's not insomnia…" Jack's eyes wandered about, combing the scenario before her. "More like…taking a trip down memory lane."
The dreams or the Sports Palace? Crane couldn't dismiss the nostalgia in her gaze.
And just like that, Jack walked to the open doors of the Sports Palace.
"Hey. Where are you going?"
"I did say I'd show you around," she chided. "This is one of the better parts."
Not even a chance to stop her and Jack already strolled in. What, she expected him to go in there after last night?!
The fear from last night crept back at Crane again. But this time, he didn't do anything but watch the brunette saunter boldly inside—a place he ran out of terror. The more he thought about it, the more he realized… That fear was stupid to feel.
He told himself again: he didn't see Jade inside the Sports Palace.
Jack's presence helped him dismantle the anxiety bit by bit. On the spot, he buckled up and followed her.
A/N: 14/12/2021
Hello everyone! Next chapter is up and the hospital scene took some time to work on. I like to give credit to my close friend, DL game partner and I suppose now, he's like my co-editor for this fic X'D for helping me immensely with that scene.
Working on the hospital scene, as well as creating what I think the siblings' mom would be like (which I'd imagine she'd be like an older Jade, kinda the strict mom but loves her kids), it took some time mostly to work out the emotions because I've had a parent with cancer. My experience wasn't like above, but I also didn't see these scenes as like those on media. You know, the kind they like to make the patient be inspirational or that it's gonna be alright with rainbows and all that. For me, it was a messy experience that left me with mixed feelings. I even wasn't that close to my father, even to his death. Short story is that he didn't stop to think about his health foremost and took it out on everyone till the end. So when it came to working on this, I was kinda torn.
From what I gathered from DL, Jade had talked a bit about her past and from the context, it sounded like she was raised well by her mother (now granted, I don't know where else talks about her past and her mother so I could be missing info on this. Please let me know in regards to that). I did take it that her mother might have already passed away before the events and her relationship with her kids would be on good terms. So I didn't know how to write when I had my experience with my father come back to me. I turned to research, however. Looked up on real patients and read up their life stories - the real stories media tends to dress over in fiction. I didn't want Nora to be inspirational and one-token but I didn't want that mixed feeling I had with my father reflected on Jade and Rahim. I wanted to write about a family facing a challenge together, through gratitude, joy, anger and regret.
I myself don't think I've achieved that level of writing and emotion for the above scene. I'm still debating: did I do this writing wrong and unfair to real patients? I wish I could push my experiences away so I can focus better, etc. Writing is always hard for anyone, and harder to convey words into emotions. Maybe I'll go over again and tweak it if needed. Regardless, I hope I did justice for this scene.
Speaking of tweaking, I have already said this over on my Dying Light: The Descent blog that I am revisiting some chapters to change and improve the one issue I've kinda didn't think on: giving Crane more of a protagonist position. Only recently and thanks to feedback, I've kinda unintentionally backseated him while Jack is his front, which also kinda disrupts him from his spotlight a few times. Mainly because I kept thinking "if people see him as what he is, they won't be thrilled". It's a box I've trapped myself in so I've been revamping a bit to correct that. I have some ideas on how to address this without Crane accidentally or intentionally giving away his new form. So if you are rereading the chapters and notice some changes, that's the reason. Hopefully, you'll like Crane having more screentime in those previous chapters and onwards.
Now to end off this chapter and fingers cross, finish the last one or two chapters before the release date of DL2. Ahahahaha, more sleepless nights weeeee. orz I kinda made a goal to do that.
And I still have to make that special short chapter too before Christmas...sigh...
29/10/21 - Edited some lines
11/3/22 - Went over a full chapter edit with some fixes, retwists, deletes and adjustments.
22/1/24 - Final fixes and changes, I hope