Chapter Summary
- DOWN MEMORY LANE
Scanderoon Sports Palace - the place where legends start and end. Feels like I was only here yesterday... - Jack
TWENTY-THREE: THE GLORY DEAD DAYS
Crane was all too cautious.
Almost at a snail pace. Every instinct in him, even the beast, ushered him to leave. But he swallowed his fear and tailed after the spirited woman inside.
The monsters, the brethren that would have welcomed the feral side of him with open arms, had scattered off. A few stragglers stayed, maybe once the previous visitors of the stadium.
One got in Jack's way. But she gave it the boot. The brunette was on a mission, too engrossed to get to her goal.
"I knew it'd be terrible inside but I didn't think it'd get this bad," Jack exclaimed. She picked up a fallen signboard and placed it upright to read a poster. Torn, but she could make out the event's title. "Unfortunate."
"That's what happens when you have a pandemic."
"You should have seen this place back in the days. They held judo tournaments yearly."
Jack then glanced to one large lobby.
"You know." She pointed two fingers in that direction. "There used to be this tacky piece of 'modern art' in this foyer." And off she went, at the beat of her drum. "Guess they removed it."
"Jack." Again, that fell on deaf ears. Crane grimaced at this sudden persistence - like trying to keep track of a child in a mall. Which had a few infected still present but that was beside the point.
He might as well entertain the idea. Whatever Jack's goal was, it couldn't be bad. Questionable, but nothing over the top.
"Ah. Here we are." Crane's feet froze up at the sudden familiarity he found himself looking at the hall Jack wandered into. He had gone down this way last night, didn't he?
The section they came across was small - the architecture structured for any visitor to see it right after the main entrance and before the sports halls. Pedestals had been smashed down and its contents either stolen or broken on the floor. One wall depicted a record of history about the Sports Palace before another showed gold-plated nameplates. Some fallen off, some ruined by humidity and others gone missing.
"The Hall of Fame." Jack particularly danced her way over the broken glass before turning back to the stunned Hunter.
Didn't look like a hall of fame, Crane thought to himself.
"Ok," she suddenly said it as if being caught in a white lie before Crane could call her out. "It's not really. Just a fancy place to advertise the athletes. Everyone else calls it that."
Despite her smile, he could tell it had weathered down like the pictures on the wall.
"Everything's sodding wet though... I believe Romola's trophy was on this pedestal."
The glass had been smashed down, the very item inside stolen. And above it was the poster of that said boxer. The face ripped off from a man in a frozen pose, his boxing gloves ready to punch upwards. No idea who he was since Crane never had an interest on the kickboxing world to begin with. And no doubt, that same man was either dead or out of the country when this happened.
"This hall still has its charm. The best people have their names put up here," Jack continued to sell. "And if they're real good, their posters stay up. Like this one."
One poster was too eye-catching for Crane not to miss it. It was one of the biggest but also the oldest, particularly gloating with vicious pride. Printed was the same woman who stood beside him, the same brunette he saw in the dream. Right to every eerie detail: the short hair, the light clothes and the branded gloves. But instead of the cold, deathly air of defeat, she stood forth with a posture that screamed she was hungry for the fight.
Maddening green eyes and a wide toothy grin tossed right back at the viewer. Like a rabid wolf ready to sink her teeth down. The image particularly exhumed an aura that couldn't be challenged. The fans, bypassers and any Martial arts fighter couldn't stand against the Wild Dog.
"I started kickboxing as a hobby. Then Mert, my trainer then, told me I should enter the Global Athletic Games," Jack droned. "Nine years of professional combat sports. Four years as world champion. Undefeated for twenty-four rounds."
She glanced back, maybe expecting to see a stupefied look or an irritated frown out of the Freakazoid. Funny how days ago, reading the emotions off a sentient infected's face seemed impossible. But it ended up entertaining her with how animated he's been.
"I could go on."
Crane's attentive eyes narrowed at the cheeky tone. Both parties, however, didn't provoke the other - his patience wasn't tested and Jack was all too absorbed in her past.
"Good times. Good times," she murmured before walking away to the next wall of posters. Absentmindedly, Crane followed along with this entourage.
"Ah. There she is."
Crane stopped in his tracks, at first shocked at seeing what Jack pointed. That the picture didn't distort into a horrifying version right in front of him.
And in awe that he was staring at the poster of Jade Aldemir in a fighting stance. Alive, with a fiery look of determination in her.
Almost as if she had come back as a ghost to him.
"The Scorpion," Jack cheered.
Crane reeled back to have a second to himself.
You mean to tell me I got frightened by a poster?
He couldn't believe it - how last night could have turned into a nightmare for him… To be scared of a picture of Jade. Looking back, that foreboding feeling of her eyes loomed back at Crane. Like the worn piece of paper judged him on the spot.
Of all the past choices he's made…
"Have you heard? Youngest kickboxer in the country when she first started. Rose up to the top faster than any rookie in the world," Jack suddenly droned on, giving a side of herself Crane hadn't expected. "...She was one tough cookie."
Crane was both surprised and puzzled when his eyes fell on Jack. Because she gazed at the picture with a smile, not the wide grin or the cocky one. But the soft one with a slight difference.
As if she held great respect for the person in the picture. A nostalgic glance.
"2011, July. Hottest day of the year," Jack droned with her palms out to the poster, before pointing down a corridor. All the way near the main entrance. "We had the tournament in that hall."
The way she pointed turned out to be the way he had bolted down out of sheer terror. With everything lit up now, he could spot the broken door to one of the bigger martial arts halls.
And off Jack went again.
"Jade had already beaten a few big names before me," she continued. "The Oni. Irmak 'Steadfast'. The War Machine... That woman was a force to be reckoned with."
Instead of telling Jack to stop this pointless wandering, asking her to turn back, Crane found himself tailing slowly after hr. Out of frightful curiosity. A smoldering, creeping sensation snaked its way inside of him. He understood now. The dreams weren't his mind playing tricks on him.
Jack knew Jade and Rahim long before the outbreak happened.
Inside the hall was no different than anywhere else in the building - minus the stragglers. In the centre of the empty seats stood the fighting ring, one side of the ropes torn down.
"I was…on that side," she pointed to one corner before climbing up and gesturing a palm to the other side. "And she was over there."
Crane glanced to the corner, almost picturing the younger version of Jade from his dreams standing right there. As if she was alive today. He could imagine it; Practising her punches, getting ready for the big day. The biggest fight as Jack claimed and all the stakes out, the young kickboxer was ready.
Now that corner was empty.
"You should have seen this place. Locals called it the biggest fight in Scanderoon. Full house."
Jack raised her arms to the empty audience and spun on her heel.
"The crowd was so loud my ears were buzzing." Jack went on to imitate two soft cheers, her hands enclosed around her mouth. "They all wanted my head."
She mimicked her thumb across her throat before letting out a whimsical, wicked laugh that trailed off softly.
"I've never backed out of a fight once. I had my title on the line. Among other things."
Crane could only imagine. A hotshot like Jack couldn't call it quits and let someone take her glory. She was that arrogant - the storytelling kinda did grind into him. That snotty smirk rubbed Crane the wrong way.
"Jade had to come at me strong." Already, Jack held her fists up and swung a few good shadow pitches. Enough strength in each punch, even if she was ghost-boxing. The charade manifested enough of the legendary Wild Dog's presence on the other end of the ring.
"But I couldn't make it easy for her. She had to prove to me she could do it. The spotlight isn't just about being glamorous. It's actually bloody tedious to maintain too."
Ok, he understood. Could she move on?
"But I sure showed them," she chimed confidently, a boost of her ego.
"I get it." With how much gloating Jack loved to do, he could already see how it played out. "You came out on top and stayed a champion. Hurrah."
"Oh, no. I actually lost that match."
The response was too chirpy, completely the opposite of what he had thought. Jack, with that unbreakable smirk, glanced back at Freakazoid's shocked gaze.
So she climbed out of the ring and said it again.
"I lost to Jade Aldemir."
Hearing that was but one of the shocking parts to Crane. The other was the brunette admitting. Without any restraint. She said it. Proudly. And that baffled him.
He remembered somewhere along his past journey - hearing passing gossip about Jade's career, learning about one feat in a delirious dream-like state.
Jade Aldemir was named the Scorpion for a reason. A kickboxing world champion. The current title bearer.
The previous one stood right beside Crane, in the Sports Palace, reliving her glory days.
Jack Brecken. The Wild Dog. Mad Jack.
Then the displeasing feeling from the dream crept inside his chest like a slow and insidious killer. He stayed rigid, however.
"Took me down with that butterfly kick of hers," she explained. "That's how she got the name. Jade the Scorpion."
"You look…happy about losing," Freakazoid managed to speak. Vocally this time.
She simply laughed. "I can't be a spoilsport over one loss." No resilience, no denial, no lie; Jack laid it all bare for Freakazoid to see. It surprised him, even more, when she said next, "and it was the best fight of my life."
Best. It sounded odd hearing that from her - a person throwing herself into Scanderoon's new hellhole. She had abundant choices to pick a fight with and anyone could see those as a life-or-death situation.
Fighting someone on her level, however, wasn't.
"After that, I retired," Jack continued. "The Wild Dog was done."
"That's kinda find that hard to believe," Crane wryly rebuked. Not because he couldn't believe it but because he had to shake off this uncomfortable feeling.
Jack didn't take offense to it.
"It was high time someone else carried the title. Let them reach for the stars."
Ok, it was awfully weird to hear her be…gallant over a competitive brawl. This couldn't be the same Jack he walked with into the building, right?
"She stayed a champion for three years. Fourth one if it weren't for this outbreak." Jack climbed back down from the stage, sauntering with satisfaction. "Don't know how long it'll be before they can hold another tournament."
The feeling swelled up more.
That line…it sounded wrong.
"I don't think anyone will have time to host another game after all this."
"Then we'll just have to hold one unofficially. I did promise Champ a comeback."
But you…can't…
He couldn't say it. Every action and word the brunette gave confirmed his notion right there and then in the most horrendous way. And the irony was: Jack was too content, dwelling in nostalgia to notice his twisted expressions.
He squeezed his talons tight, ignoring the sharp fingertips digging deep into his palms.
"...Champ's her nickname, right?" Crane warily asked. "Your friend."
That was what got Jack into a much better mood. Much brighter than usual. "The fans didn't see it that way. Everyone used to call me the 'mortal enemy' to all opponents," Jack jested with exaggeration. "In their eyes, I defeated their heroes."
"...But not her," he tried to batter up with the tone of her mood. In hopes, it could quell the painful feeling down. It didn't.
"That's because her annoying little brother kept butting in our business," she complained, shaking her finger disapprovingly at the misbehaving kid in question. "He's gotta solve every little problem with a grand scheme of his."
Kyle had to agree with Jack quietly. Painfully. Rahim was...almost impossible to work with.
Fucking do it, Kyle.
But he didn't want it. His denial still got the better of him. How long was he trying to play this game of his?
"What's his name…? Her brother."
It was stupid to ask. So pointless.
Crazy to think there was another Aldemir out there that Jack meant. Even insulting.
Kyle prayed. He really prayed to God that it wasn't the answer he thought was right. That everything wasn't falling together so well into place.
The answer came so casually and so deadly to him at the same time.
"His name?" From her face alone, it had been an odd question. But gradually, she didn't think much about it.
So when she said it, it hit him much harder than he had wanted.
"It's Rahim."
That did it. That hit Crane like a ton of bricks.
And Jack wasn't the wisest.
"You'll like him. He has a knack for warming up to people. Might take some time with you. With your current condition."
The dagger left in his gut stabbed further in and gutted him from the inside. The second stab came and crushed his already broken soul.
"But I can see that boy change his tune. Not every day do you befriend a sentient infected," she continued. "Just be careful with him. He's a cheeky bugger."
Tell her.
She wouldn't believe him. Some random infected she found on the streets of Scanderoon? It'd be a good sickening joke to her.
But why didn't she know?
"Have…" This time he spoke. Or tried to. Crane had to force it out of him. But the question he had started devolved to a different one. The one he did want to ask. "Have you heard from them?"
Jack grimaced lightly but she thought it over. "Last I heard from them was a month before Tower went radio silent. So four months."
Four months.
There should have been a window. Anytime for her to know about their deaths.
Didn't Brecken tell her?
What happened to them.
Did he keep it a secret from his only relative? Or he just couldn't before the radios went down between them? Which was it?
Both scenarios were worse. That meant no one told her. Her group had to, right? They were so connected to the Tower to get word, right down to the cure. Someone had to have told her!
Did no one tell her?!
Tell her, you bastard!
"...Jack."
At first, he got her attention. The confident, reassuring smirk on her face wrecked his guilt even more from the inside.
"There's something...you should know."
That smile softened. She waited. But something felt off to Kyle-
"Yo, Jack. Got some news for you."
"What do you have, Ender," she responded quickly to the comms, wheeling away.
Crane felt relieved - only for a second before letting out a sigh. What rotten timing. But even his curiosity got the better of him.
"Hang on," Riza quickly interrupted. "Should we tell her?"
"Tell me what exactly," Jack sang with a tint of irritation.
"Well, it's entirely not good news," Ender admitted. "We know where those trucks are headed."
"And that's bad because-?"
"We couldn't follow them."
"Of course. I didn't ask you to tail close to a bunch of murderous convicts."
"For crooked men, they sure know how to be organized."
"You'd think they'd do anarchy with everything happening," Riza added.
Strolling out of the sports hall, Jack listened attentively to the conversation while Freakazoid tailed after her to listen as well. The bright sun had lit the entire city before them as if to showcase the grim reality before them. Cannily poetic for the young Grad to say that word.
"I'm pretty sure everywhere is anarchy at this point," Jack chided.
"Doesn't make it any better that this Alexander guy has these prisoners at his beck and call."
"You don't know the half of it," she murmured. "So. Where are those trucks?"
"That's the next bad thing. You won't believe where they're headed," Ender explained.
"Try me."
"They were taken to the Checkpoint."
Both the ex-kickboxer and Day Hunter were aghast. They both looked out at one large open bay window, to the horizon of Scanderoon. The borders of the Checkpoint dressed under the morning rays for anyone to see - the way out of the city. Into unquarantined freedom.
"Out of the city?"
"No. Not that Checkpoint," Ender explained.
"The other Checkpoint. To Harran," Riza corrected.
Jack's spin to the other direction, for another window, prompted Crane to follow again. His eyes trailed after the main causeway until it hit into the boundaries of the nearby mountain - the road into the Strait, the one route that linked the two cities.
He recalled the way they had scrambled out of the tunnel after chasing Ercan, noticing a small barricaded site several feet from the entrance. Obviously, the government had put a chokepoint there until Scanderoon fell and the military personnel abandoned their post.
No guards, no one to see trucks full of people sneaking into the Strait.
Crane had to utter. "But that's a deathwish."
"Shocking, right?" Ender continued, probably not an answer to Freakazoid's mumbling. "Going back to the place where it all started."
"Which means they have something very valuable past the Border," Jack pointed.
"You know you're not supposed to go to Harran."
Her body stiffened. For only a second. "I never said I was going there."
"Didn't you tell us that 'saying it' and 'doing it' are two different things?" Riza managed to counterattack.
She frowned. Cheeky lil' buggers. Actually, her own fault for giving that piece of advice.
"Technically, I'm still obligated to find the missing people from the Junction. If they're taken to another city, that's where I'll go."
"Well, you won't have to go that far. They made a pitstop out of a police station here."
"Looks like they're unloading this group of people for another group of people."
"Safety precautions."
"Want us to create a distraction?" Riza suddenly offered, a bit too eager in Crane's opinion. "We can set up in five."
"Now don't go doing my job. Takes the fun out of it," Jack chided and ended the call.
Just before she could walk to the exit, Freakazoid stopped her. Not with an impulse or a sudden halt - he strangely stood still with his mind in the clouds.
She didn't think he'd be that awestruck with the whole building and its stories. With how he reacted previously about Jack's rep in the first place. Oddest that he didn't run off immediately at hearing about the captives' current location.
"Break's over, hero." That snapped him out of the bizarre trance. And not in a way she expected; no displeased look shot at her. "Back to saving the day."
Now that displeased glare appeared once he finally registered the meddlesome meaning behind her words. The inner workings inside that thick skull of his trying to comprehend if that was a joke or a jab.
She walked away, still grinning to herself.
Crane, however, found himself looking back at Jade's poster again.
If he was right about those dreams, about Jack's relationship, then Jade would never forgive him for keeping the secret. Although those eyes from the poster didn't stick to him like last night - staring off with a look of resilience and determination - he didn't need to be reminded of what he should do next.
Certainly, to tell Jack the truth - that was something he had never done before to anyone. But now, there was no excuse to hold it back. Keep up that sort of lie.
That would be unfair for her. For Jade and Rahim.
"So you're coming or not?" he heard Jack all the way from the front door.
…Yeah.
Keep going for as long as he could possibly go. That was the least he could do…
Resolved on the spot, Crane turned away. Not with one final glance over his shoulder.
One final goodbye to Jade Aldemir, the Scorpion.
And friend.
The pitstop's overall structure made it easy for the two to find it. For one, it had Alexander's logo branded on it. The sloppily-painted symbol of the crowned, fanged skull. Another reason was that it had the same fingerprints as the outpost Crane and Jack infiltrated to steal back Caroline. Boards, metal sheets, barbed wires and anything large stitched together an office building for healthcare and a large police department - an easy guess that the hostages could have been tossed into cells and the crooks had gathered firearms from the weapon room.
"Right on time for the party."
The moment Ender said that upon seeing the brunette vault to the meetup point - the rooftop of a shophouse - Jack asked, "what party?". She had only arrived, spying with the two traders the front end of the pitstop. Barely any excitement on the streets from the usual stragglers.
"SRAAAGH!"
Then the howl echoed close by. Haunting and threatening.
All three humans turned back to the Frankenstein mesh of buildings - Riza nearly in a skip with fright. Whatever made the noise went off like an alarm, as if announcing that a big event would start. So any infected passerbys should come soon for the show.
"That doesn't sound good," Freakazoid mumbled from behind them.
"Whole place suddenly acted up just before you arrived," Ender went straight into the details.
And Riza continued, "they probably left a backdoor open and a Viral walked in."
That didn't sound like a Viral - Jack and her freakish compadre kept silent. Not a Volatile or any other Special.
Sounded almost like Freakazoid when he wails as the big guy on top of the food chain.
Regardless, it was an opportunity for Jack. And trouble for Crane.
"Right," Jack chided her insensitiveness. "We'll use the commotion to our advantage." And just before anyone could either suggest, oppose or say that was a horrible idea, the brunette took the lead in the conversation. "You two stay outside and be our eyes and ears."
Well, Crane wanted to do all three. The two traders had no objection to the idea. They paid attentively for her next order.
"Always have been," Ender added so confidently.
"Besides, we want in on the fun too," Riza pointed truthfully.
"Yeah. That's nice," Jack brushed them off.
"Hey," Crane uttered but she had already taken a head-start - carefully dropping down to the next rooftop. At first, he thought this was an attempt to avoid his bickering. Of course, he didn't like where this was going! But the brunette suddenly stopped and waited for him to catch up.
There, he knew she had more to say to him.
"I know what you're going say. You can't go charging in like the cavalry."
In order words, don't go being a hero.
Crane flinched back, irritation creasing his temple - calling back to the ruckus he caused in the High School's cafeteria. He never regretted it and neither the times he had jumped into the fire to save people. So Jack's indifference was unjustified.
Ironic, though. He understood it; it wasn't out of wickedness or survival. There had never been a time Jack genuinely showed an emotion unless it was called for and it was the same tactic Kyle had used many times in Harran. Distancing herself from the aftermath but because 'business as usual', not because she couldn't let emotions get her.
"Remember. We're partners. Our goals' the same."
No rebuttal. But no denying that he didn't like it either.
Once Jack had a good grasp that her words did get digested, to a degree, she parkoured onwards.
She took to the healthcare building. Crane took to the police department. Their routes going in were vastly different but also difficult treading carefully into dangerous water.
The fronts would be suicidal to go first. All of the office's glass doors had been barricaded that Jack would have no choice but to head for the back. He could only watch the back of her jacket until they were too far away to see each other. On his end, the abandoned police cars and smashed vehicles helped him slip past the hawking eyes of watch guards from above.
Kyle needed these blindspots, with how close he saw a large group of men through his x-ray vision. They huddled up in the small fortified parking space, marching around with less order than that under Rais' command.
"Then take care of it."
The strong, foreign accent slowed Crane to a crawl. Peeking out, he watched one man stand out from the rest. Greek. Looking like he owned the place and the men under his watch...
Crane had seen him before. A face no one couldn't recognize unless one lived under a rock. It didn't matter for which reason behind the infamy: whether the charges or being stuck in a cell for a lifetime. He recognized him from somewhere.
Right.
He had come across his dossier. He had seen him on the news two years ago, handcuffed. And moreover, he had seen him point his revolver at him in that one dream.
A person who was once dangerous, untouchable, unreachable, with a list that surpassed Rais' - no, Colonel Suleiman's. So well-known in the criminal world. Crane had heard the stories that led to one single question in the past: why had no one caught him for the longest time.
That was old news now. It didn't matter if he could pick out a face in the crowd. But one would think a bigshot fallen from grace wouldn't have this much control and so easily…
"Take care of it? Those Virals have broken in," one man exclaimed, waving a palm to the police station. "They've already eaten the other batch of people!"
Dammit. Crane's heart sunk at the news. Was it the remaining people from the Orphanage or other poor captives?
"There are plenty more to pick off from the streets. Why, those strongholds are ripe with sick people."
Frustration boiled up at the response Crane heard out of the lithe man. The leader, the boss. Self-proclaimed king with a name like Alexander the Great. His talons tightened but the sound of scratching metal on a car door didn't get pick up by anyone.
Alexander turned to his men, noticing a shift in the eyes and a twitch of the facial muscles. One of them hunched his shoulders so much when the distance between them shortened.
"Or are you getting all soft for those poor souls?"
Crane could almost hear that prisoner gulp. "...No, sir…" The convict opened his mouth but shut his suggestion in.
Alexander huffed with amusement. An interesting, thoughtful answer to him.
"I know. It's hard," out of the blues, he spoke out with a similar kind of air Jack often used. Nowhere close to her usual tune, however. "Times are trying. Death's at every corner... You can't help but feel bad for turning a blind eye on people."
The quiet and confused convict gave a light nod, not entirely out of agreeing but out of distress. Hell, he has seen worse things just as anyone had. He could only hope that Alexander would leave him be.
"But sometimes, you shouldn't let feelings get in the way of things."
Alexander gave a nod to another man, from the looks of it, his second-in-command. Without warning, the one-eared convict handed a knife to Alexander.
The stab went right into the convict's throat.
A horrible gurgling sound erupted from his mouth but he wasn't given a chance to finish his silent cry. The next stabs came swiftly and Alexander pinned him down to the floor.
Stab, stab, stab. About fifteen times, as a red pool flowed out of the dead prisoner.
Alexander breathed in. Breathed out. He then climbed back up and slid his hair back. With blood.
"We're doing everyone in this city a solid favor. And they'll understand," he declared to everyone who stood frozen at the display. Criminals who had done time couldn't say a single word. "Whether they like it or not."
Alexander straightened his clothes, brushed the dirt off his sleeves. Playing the role of a clean saint above the crooks around him.
"Someone clean this mess up. We can't be attracting pests."
Nobody spoke.
Not at first.
"There's also that lady in red."
One convict shoved an elbow into the talker's side of the talker. But it was too late.
"What about her?" Luckily, Alexander didn't go off on another tantrum. He simply scoffed with annoyance.
"Been hearing rumors about her. Going after Specials for some reason."
"Wonderful. The thorn can remove herself by getting herself killed."
"She's not making it easy. Hell. She even killed that Demolisher at the arena. Without any weapons."
Crane grimaced but it was bound to happen. Both he and Jack had kept her secret on the low. Jack being infected wasn't news that could be hidden, of course. And her use of her poisonous blood in combat wasn't anything short either. One way or another, anyone infected and weaker than Crane's new unnatural endurance succumbed either from a purposeful bite or a bloodstained smudge she coated her weapons with.
So someone was bound to connect the dots, either as rumors or not.
However, the inmates' leader looked increasingly unimpressed the more he listened, shaking his head.
"What's new?" Alexander mumbled out of boredom. More to himself. At least, the patience didn't run thin that he could very well easily axe off someone's head.
"She even got a Hunter with her," another thug uttered.
"A Hunter?" Now that got Alexander intrigued. Only a bit for a scoff to appear on his face.
"She's been seen at our outposts with it. Comes in and destroys everything." The convict nervously tried to plan out the next words that would come out of his mouth. "It's like she's controlling the damn thing."
"Ahhh… Ahahaha!" Alexander burst out loud, surprising everyone minus his second-in-command. "Is that what she's selling nowadays?"
"B-But it's true. Everyone here has seen her talk to it!" he yelped. A few heads did turn away to save their own faces.
"Gentlemen," Alexander stopped the infectious doubt from spreading each of his own men. "Do you hear yourself?" He waited for a response but only silence replied back. "A pet zombie?"
Something in his voice made the low ranks cower back with lips thinned shut. Almost entertained, relishing the moment at how absurd everyone acted in front of him.
"That woman has sold you a bill of goods. She's just that good at her craft. Far better than all of you buying into it."
The insult didn't entice anyone to revolt. They all knew too well - they couldn't be lured and tripped right into his verbal and literal knife.
"So. The next time you see her again, I suggest you do one, single, thing."
The boss's head swayed left and right at every word he then spoke.
"Kill. Her."
The animosity in his voice shook his men, so much that he could kill them in a more fatal way than his recent outburst. Everyone was expendable and that made it all the more frightening.
On a hair-trigger, his mood shifted. Back crept a smile that even Crane didn't like. Not in the same cocky, cheery attitude Jack's had but in a more conniving and methodical way - Alexander wore it as a facade and a warning.
Any of the men in orange did wonder; besides the recent news, what did this one woman do to make him this angry.
"It's that simple."
Simple. He really saw Jack as an annoyance but not an obstacle to put his effort into. Crane couldn't help but sigh at how communicable Jack's reputation grew to be a thorn in Alexander's side...but also odd at his nonchalant attitude. As if he already found her predictable.
Why though...
The man Alexander stood in front almost lost his footing at the sudden pat on the shoulder. The second pat forced him onto his feet - almost as if to plant him down like a tree. The tension hung but everyone quickly went back to their business. The Great Alexander returned casually to the stack of supplies, whatever his business was before the interruption.
No one saw the Day Hunter sneak by. Moreover, the one side of the perimeter he ventured around didn't have as many guards as he had thought.
But he did see something run by a window on the second floor. Almost right out of a horror movie - a pair of golden eyes darting fast in the blackness like a pair of fireflies.
The unwanted guests Ender talked about.
By the time he reached for an entrance, by way of the fire escape, Jack called over the comms her side of the survey.
"Found those trucks from earlier. At the docking bay," she relayed to him. "It's a mess. Alexander's men have their hands full with the infected."
Crane could imagine. One slipup and the whole base was being taken by the Biters.
"Then the hostages?" he asked with a hint of worry.
"Not in the trucks, if you're asking. But they might be held inside. Maybe both buildings."
So they were on a time limit.
Which also means Jack would plan out something spontaneously again. He couldn't catch a break with her.
"So check everywhere."
"Exactly."
Easily said than done. For all they knew and based on the traders' information, the men might have already taken whatever was left of the first batch of hostages through the border. But Jack's suggestion offered a bit of hope that the Day Hunter swiftly ducked inside.
Through his super strange vision, he scanned his surroundings: first seeing the skeletons of armed prisoners in a few rooms and moving about to deal with the invasion. What he needed were skeletons looking like they weren't carrying guns or weapons. Trying to make themselves small from all the dangers in the police department.
Another hindrance - electricity still ran through the fluorescent lights, making lit halls death rooms if Crane stood out. Half of the place, however, wasn't brightened up. Slipping into the darkness proved as his roundabout for the problem.
And making a blackout was another.
"Hey! Who turned off the lights?"
A simple switch flip by the sentient beast. None of the patroling inmates could react in time to the surprise attack.
"What the-!"
A takedown easily knocked the first guy off his feet, along with a pop from his neck. For the next guy, Crane plunged the bone blade across it before moving on.
Prisoners didn't have the same level of fortitude and mental capability as a man with a military background. They were the same as Rais' gang; as long as they had their brawls and weapons, nothing could stand in their way.
And yet, the beast they faced inside the police station didn't hiss and frantically sprint with flaying arms. A claw latched onto the wrist, breaking the bones at a mere twist. Anyone caught in the grip found themselves pulled forward and a blade thrust into the back.
The last thoughts went as either: how could a zombie carry a knife or how could they move with such precision?
Crane was twice more dangerous than he was both times as a human and a feral. And they were locked in with him.
"Come on!"
At the corner of his eyes, he watched a group four walls away from him. But rather than coming towards him, they ran in the opposite direction.
"Some crazy woman broke in and released the captives out!"
"Shit! Our cargo?!" They hurried even faster down the halls.
Lucky they went that way. Crane scowled, canines clutching tightly in his jaws. He really wanted to tear their mouths right off for calling humans 'cargo'. However, with a deep breath to calm his nerves down, he shouldn't change his course out of spite. Frankly, someone else would beat those men down in his stead.
Most importantly, Kyle was certain of one thing.
The Wild Dog's performance had started on her end.
He really had to hurry. Not because of the chance people could get hurt under the commotion, or the battle between man and Biter eventually interfering with the duo's work. But because of Jack.
For the love of Christ, she'd better not find any explosive inside this outpost. Now he relented over the fact he left her alone.
"There's more of those freaks!" cried out an inmate close by, biting his fingernails.
"Wait, we're still missing one more person!"
"Just let them be food for the Biters! We should be thinking of ourselves!"
"Hey! Who-" the other convict pointed his machete at the intruder from behind. The Day Hunter didn't give him a chance to fight back - something swooshed fast at his hands instead.
Pain followed. Then he saw his hands in the air.
"AHHHH!" He screamed and fell over, desperately trying to stop the profusely bleeding from the stumps of his arms. He wouldn't be able to witness the beast grab a table and fling it over like it was only a bag of feathers. Tossed the desk at his pals while the wounded inmate blacked out from the blood loss.
They had thought the desk would do them in. One jumped back and the other felt his leg fracture. What neither of them accounted for was their attacker charging forth.
The thing used a desk as a distraction-
THUD!
Before the man's very eyes, he watched his other friend fall, believing the cause to be his leg. But he also saw the swing of a strange bone sticking out from the creature's arm with droplets of blood trailing from it at every movement.
Dead! His cellmates were gone! Swallowing up his fear, the thug leapt forward with his bat ready. Now or never-!
"Ugh!" A sudden punch staggered him back. The freak punched him!
Crack!
Claws had already latched onto the side of his head and in one good twist, the guy dropped dead.
"Ahhh!"
"Run!"
Crane first braced himself as he believed he got closer to where the cells could havebeen. Surprisingly, the convicts didn't take any notice of him. They actually ran past him. One of them would have shoved Crane down but his new body stood still like an indestructible tower to the thug. The guy was a pushover. Fear drove the prisoner to get up and keep going, rather than turn back to spit anger at the hooded person who stood his way.
The howls ahead of Kyle told him exactly what chased after the convicts that they were abandoning their posts. More fuel for the disorder.
Nothing was ever easy for him.
He could use his tendrils. Just rope the inmates and freaks together so he could deal with the problems altogether. The humans scattered about like headless chickens anyway-
Left hand.
And now that inner demon of his has started to talk. But rather than berate it to keep quiet before it would start, he glanced closely at his left. What about it?
He flexed the muscles, expecting it to split open like a flower and fire the tendril again. It did the first part and something did fire. Dark, sharp and bony. The usual wooshing sound didn't occur to his ears either. More like, tat tat tat.
Crack!
"Gah!" The convicts jumped from the flying sparks and falling glass. In a panic, they rose their weapons up and searched for the source.
"Who?!"
Crane couldn't stall from the confusion. The cover of darkness welcomed him as he leapt over the seats and onto the first man. His scream came out only halfway before the back of the convict's head hit the floor. The other pointed a gun - at nothing when he couldn't see in the dark - and Kyle quickly grabbed it by the barrel. First pulling his opponent forward and right into the bone blade.
BAM! BAM! The firearm did go off and that attracted a few onlookers. The remaining humans close by did wheel around at the noise but decided to take the safest route away from that and the zombies. Two pairs of golden eyes sparked in the shadows at the unknown intruder.
The Virals hissed, standing their grounds. One frayed their arms in a frantic spasm before galloping at the Day Hunter.
Kyle instinctually lifted both hands, mainly readying himself for a frontal sparring. But as if it happened all because of a light trigger from the kinetic energy released in the small muscles of his hands, he heard the tat tat tat sound again. Sounding like rocks being thrown at lightning speed.
"Gawk!" The running infected flung back all of a sudden. He really didn't know what had happened - but something took it down - with his focus on the other two Virals heading his way.
He slid down, giving a kick at the ankles. A bulldozer against bowling pins. It went quick and clean in just a second right after that.
Ok. That was finished, right? Crane looked up at the ceiling and then down at the Viral before finally staring at his left claw with wide eyes. Two bone-like spikes were embedded into the broken light and the ceiling while three more dug into the eye and chest of the now-dead-dead Viral.
A fifth spike lodged itself into a desk. It took a bit of loosening as he brought it closer, feeling the hard cartilage between his talons. To make sure it really was real.
That thing…it came out of his left arm.
Alright. So he has a blade on his right and a 'spike-gun' on his left.
Sure.
Totally fine. Nothing out of the ordinary for infected.
"This body is getting weirder and weirder each time, he thought grimly to himself.
Just press on. Again. He could complain about the new changes after he had found any civilians.
The number of walking skeletons deceased the further he ventured but more infected replaced their presence in the halls. Crane almost decided to call it quits until around one corner, heading closer to the prison cells did he spy someone resting on the ground.
A survivor!
Crane immediately hurried to the skeleton in question, going straight for their jail cell. They laid beside the cot, not on the cot. The treatment given added more fuel to Crane's exasperation. The convicts might have even branded them good as dead…if it wasn't for the bright orange organ he saw beating inside their chest.
That was his evidence that the resident of the room was alive; both vile that he could see that inside the ribcage and reassuring that they was alright.
First problem: the cell's door. And no way could it be possible for him to find the keys. But the recent past events had him aim his left arm at the lock.
Tat-tat-tat! The bone bullets bent into the metal and another tat-tat-tat, the deadbolt snapped off. Crane rushed in once he flung the door open. Upon closer inspection, he found that it was a woman, knocked out cold. The next worrying thought was if she had injuries. No bites as far as he saw.
As careful as he could, he turned her over. Her face and the mole under the eye lit his surprise up.
Peri.
At first, he thought he was seeing things. The missing runner was alive after gone missing for weeks? Everyone had written her and the other disappearances as good as dead.
"I found her," he almost yelled on the mic. "Jack! I-I found the missing runner!"
"Get her out of there," that was all Jack uttered before he heard a hard punch through the comms.
Right. Now wasn't the time for enthusiasm. He couldn't help it. Crane reached down to pick her up. As careful as he could possibly muster, he first lifted her head up.
Dark gray eyes blinked several times before they aimed towards him. They grew wider just as talons from his other hand stretched an inch closer.
The horrendous, gut-wrenching scream came.
"AHHH!"
Crane tumbled away from the frightened woman, fully awake and clawing her back to the corner of her temporary prison. Trapped with an animal. A monster.
"Somebody! Help!" she screamed at the loudest to the point her lungs burned.
Crane's brain also screamed, demanding him to leave. Stop the torment he particularly gave to her. This was how it happened with Esme all over again. He still couldn't get used to it - who could in his shoes?
Feeling his back finally hit a wall made him feel like he was the caged animal, too petrified to hurt the prey tossed in with him.
He needed Jack. She could mitigate the fear! Take his place.
"Jack… S-She's awake. Y-You have to come get her!"
"Kinda busy!" He heard the strong whack of a blunt weapon over the radio. "Get off me!"
Crane staggered back. What rotten timing. He begged while he paced about, don't do this to me.
"I…I can't…"
"You can't or you won't? This whole place is a hornet's nest now," Jack uttered. "She can't stay here."
"Then send someone! Anyone!" he hollered. As long as it wasn't him. "I-I can stay guard-"
"Freakazoid." The calmness in her voice dispelled the swelling dread in him. "You know that's not the way to do this."
Crane's whole infected body trembled. All the energy went into his fists shaking and calming his breathing. Terrified, guilty, all stages of grief in one that they coalesced together too much for him to express each one at a time.
He knew…
He knew, he knew! What more could he possibly do?!
Crane didn't want Jack's answer. It couldn't help him. But again, she was right. Always right! As much as he's spoken his mind he wouldn't go down the same path Jack was on, he couldn't turn his back on the innocent and the helpless.
Stay guard? That was saying he would be stalling for the poor woman to get killed.
So he gave up. Crane took in deep breath to prepare himself.
Turning back to the poor woman did freak her out again. Even if he did it much slower, it wouldn't be enough.
Besides Jack and the two Rav traders, three people had already seen his face and feared it on first impression: the young male runner on the first night, Esme the hostage and Siv. One more added to the list shouldn't matter now.
"It's ok."
Ok?! Her frightened eyes vibrated in their sockets; at the insane reality Peri found herself in, for a chance of escape. It prompted Crane to swallow. Her warranted fear didn't calm down even with the offered claw from the beast in the cell.
"Siv sent us to find you."
The mention of that name shocked Peri to the point it stopped the shaking. She couldn't believe it - over the fact she could hear the Hunter speak vocally.
It came barely as a whisper from her mouth. "Siv…is alive?"
Crane gave a careful nod.
He could see the gears turn inside the woman's head. He couldn't blame her or anyone in the kind of situation Peri was in.
"...Siv was bitten." Her eyes watered. She leaned forward, almost as if reaching out in hopes that the words she grasped at held true. "I-I…I thought she'd… I-"
Then she sunk down and let out a thankful cry, repeating again and again, "She's alive... Thank goodness."
Crane understood. How many days had she not seen everyone at the Junction? Since she last left Siv at the safehouse for her own safety?
Terrified that at every passing second, minute or day, Siv would fall to the virus.
So the woman shouldn't have to wait any longer.
"Let's go."
Peri didn't move. Her whole battered body went on full defense mode - back to the main issue at hand. How could she just go with a dangerous creature?
"I promise you," the beast spoke so suddenly but in the most struggling way. "I'll only take you out of the station."
Why Peri trembled. It was an infected - Virals talk. They trick healthy survivors into falling for their traps.
"Good people will take you back to the Junction."
And yet, she could hear the sincerity in the words of an infected.
It was crazy.
But what other choice did she have?
The claw was offered again to her and this time, she took it. Not without some dithering.
Peri had thought she would be thrown up onto her feet like a rag but actually, the monster helped her up as slowly as possible. Instead of the horrible idea of him suddenly changing his mind and sinking his teeth into her, he took the lead and kept it at a distance from her. Not too close into the range of tearing flesh and not too far away to be out of sight.
How was anyone going to believe her?
She didn't know where they were going but the monster somehow knew - back the way Crane had gone through. He remembered seeing a garage he passed by. One of many ways out but none of them the safest.
Shadows shifted in his line of sight as instinct warned him they were a threat. Not prey, but not human either. Peri's frantic screams would have that effect and Crane couldn't fault her for creating the noise.
"Ah!" Another holler out of the runner but cut short from her own terror.
Her protector swung hard - slapping a running zombie with the back of his fist. The force wasn't human as Peri heard its skull split open on contact with metal bars.
"Come on," the Hunter hollered. He understood that she was scared but he couldn't pick her up and haul her. He would be adding more problems.
"Garh!" a Viral hissed loudly and bounded over Crane.
For a creature once a human, they were very resilient to think they could pin him down. When did they give a boost of confidence to overpower him?!
The Viral's dead gaze fixed not on him but the person behind him. Kyle shoved it back and glanced over his shoulder. He needed Peri to back away.
Just in time to see Peri somehow get a hold of a blunt weapon and lift it above his head.
Wait-!
Clank!
The Viral on him dropped limp, dead as a doornail. The swing went for the small threat, not the bigger one - it took Kyle by surprise.
Then he froze up on the spot. He didn't dare move a muscle.
Now the person he was rescuing was armed. On one hand, she didn't need to do that; helping him. On the other…now he felt in danger.
Maybe, Peri could leave and find a safe place now that she wasn't defenseless.
"Lead!" she demanded. Her breathing came off exasperated with her hands shaking on the bat's hilt.
Got it, miss. The Day Hunter continued on without question while Peri kicked herself into a sprint. She had better not regret her choice at the end of this…insane rescue.
"Hey, you two!" Crane shouted, although softly over the comms. "Do you hear me?"
"We've never left," Ender thankfully answered.
"I need you to escort a runner," he jumped to the details. "Can you do that for me?!"
Kyle waited for the expected reply; that they would want something in return for their services. Or some bullshit like Jack told them not to leave their post.
But Ender replied, "Meet you inside." No questions asked and no objections. Just straight into the fire.
"No, wait-!" Nothing but white noise from his end. "Arrrh!" Don't add more stuff to my list!
He'd deal with that later when he would see him. They left the detention area and right through the processing rooms. A few more turns and unavoidably a couple of infected in their way, they finally got to the empty garage.
Empty of the police cars but filled with some Biters having lurked around.
Really, how on Earth did they get through all those defenses? The UV lights were still on when Crane snuck in.
RINNNNNNNNNNNG!
Peri leapt at the screaming bells from next door. Though, that could be a blessing in disguise - enough of a noise to attract the infected inside this building away from them. She wondered if the alarm went off as an accident, however.
Crane thought otherwise.
What did Jack do this time?
"Freakazoid!" he heard Ender cry out. As if somehow being telepathic, Ender knew exactly where Crane headed and stood at the garage's exit. Skulls had smashed open and knees were bent - the young adult had a fine time dealing with a small horde gathering nearby. With a strange crafted two-handed weapon in his hand.
Noticing his guest, Ender ushered Peri to come towards him. As if it wasn't crazy enough that the new face didn't seem at all frightened at the monster with her. Or that the monster also prompted her to go ahead. Like working on a well-oiled machine.
She recalled the Hunter's earlier words.
"He'll take you to safety," again he pushed.
From the look on his…face, the monster really meant every word. At the threshold of the garage exit, he would not go any further with Peri.
"It's ok. He's cool." The skull-masked person sugarcoated the whole situation far too light-hearted for her taste. "He works for the Ravs."
Ravs? She opened her mouth to ask who they were. Then the monster jerked his head up. No! Peri backed away from his claw reaching for her.
She felt herself pull forward and right into Ender's arms.
"Freakazoid!" Ender yelled, undoubtedly confused why their go-getter ran off to the doors and shut them with his body.
Bam! Bam! Hands beat against the wood as he held them back. More Virals pounced about, hungry on the trail for fresh meat; Ender and Peri. With how dark the department was in the first place, they wouldn't have seen the enemy coming from the rear.
"Go!" Freakazoid barked. "Now!"
Peri almost refused. She had a weapon. She could still fight.
It sounded so incredibly deranged in her head and anyone would think so too. But to see a creature with a sound mind go out of his way to protect humans, she couldn't help but feel responsible for her recent change of mind. Feel obliged to give a helping hand.
But the other stranger behind her pulled Peri away and out the backdoor. A terrifying howl somehow reassured her that the 'Freakazoid' had it all under control…
"Here!"
One person wouldn't be enough to save half a dozen hostages. You'd have to be a superhero to do that. Right there and then, the only thing you could do was be the hero for yourself. Save yourself and others around you.
What Jack could do was knock out the guards and free the first frightened civilian - and like a domino reacting to the next one, they rushed over to free the net person. What she had then done was asked who still could fight and those who shakingly raised their hands, she tossed the convicts' weapons to them.
She could only usher them to go straight ahead for the exit - the same route she took from the docking bay - and not look back.
And once they were out, they would be on their own.
"There's still more people!" one of them hollered, his steps almost yearning for him to go find them.
"I'll get them," Jack reassured and with a hard push on their back - ushering them to go to the direction she cam - said firmly, "go."
From the looks of the interior add-ons the crooks put into the office building, it served as a first transport point before moving the hostages to perhaps the cells next door. The overconfidence that no captive would have the balls to rebel because of the chosen conference rooms showed it in the flimsy design.
What they didn't take into consideration was the sudden invasion.
In the next conference room, Jack spotted three more people through the glass panels. One hard shove and the door flew open off its lock.
"C'mon." They didn't need to be told a second time. Off they bolted like a fluffle of rabbits. The Wild Dog didn't accompany after them yet when she did a clean sweep of the room and a quick peek under the large desk.
"Hello there," she greeted as coolly as she could under the mayhem.
The young child huddled up like a ball so tightly that no one had noticed. Eyes and cheeks tinted so raw red from the constant crying. He flinched at the greeting but his whole body settled down at the familiar face.
Half Jack's mind went: 'a bunch of cowards abandoning a child' but under circumstances like these, it didn't matter. What mattered was getting the boy out
"What's your name?"
As much as time was precious and danger was afoot so closely, a wrong move could come in many forms - the metaphorical knives pinned right at Jack's throat at a hair-trigger
Henceforth, she took the calm approach. A child didn't need more terror when he lived in a nightmare.
"...O-Ozan," he finally gathered all the courage he could muster.
"Ozan. I've heard that name before." Again, the boy jumped. How, when, why? "Your friends at the Orphanage talked about you."
He furrowed his eyebrows - the word 'friend' sounded so weird to him. Jack could only guess that a bunch of children, with no family and no life to go back to, wouldn't socialize well. How could they, when adults put their focus on securing the walls than inside the Orphanage?
Jack stretched out her hand to him.
"Alright. Let's go see them."
At first, Ozan didn't take her hand. He wasn't sure… There had been things he did that the adult didn't know. Very stupid things. He found it crazy to think the kids there…they wouldn't care if he was back.
But he didn't want to stay in the dark, noisy, scary place. Ozan wanted to see the other children again; hear laughter and play the childish games under the sun. All he really wanted was a normal day.
Even if he would be shunned, it would be better than staying in the office building all alone…
Jack's hand felt so big once he took it. Up onto his feet and out the conference room they left.
The strong odor of blood and guts made him gag. Ozan clutched his teeth together to stop the bile from coming out. His foot knocked against something as they hastened through the cubicles - what was that?
But out of the blues, the adult's other hand crept over his eyes and angled them to look forward. Keep straight and don't linger. Thankfully, he obeyed. Had he looked down, he would see the corpses of the prisoners caused by Jack and the armed hostages.
Without warning, Jack pulled Ozan back to behind a pillar. Why? What's happening?
"Shhh." His only answer came with Jack placing a finger to her lips, prompting him to put his hands over his mouth.
Curiosity quickly fled out of him - the quiet made him listen harder than he had wanted. There was the sound of scuffling, doors banging and men yelping in fear. He absolutely could hear the moans, hisses and groans he had always heard beyond the Orphanage's protective boundaries. Much closer that Ozan's wild imagination played the scene that the monster would hound after him and the woman.
No more. He clasped his fingers around Jack's arms to stop himself from uttering a word.
"Someone! Help!"
Jack nearly reacted from her hiding place. At the corner of her eye, she watched a convict being dragged away by the nape of his overalls. A man at five foot, ten inches who kept himself fit and pumped at the prison's gym was hauled away so easily. No amount of thrashing or rebelling could free him from his kidnapper's hold.
Then he was gone, with only his screams now faint.
Better him than them.
But before she and Ozan could leave their spot, her muscles froze up again.
She could feel it. A presence both foreboding and familiar. For a split second, the brunette thought it had been Freakazoid.
No. He was in the other building. Moreover, this felt like how she first encountered the feral side in person.
Ozan hiccuped and trembled at the sudden hand over his mouth. His wide eyes darted at his savior but there was no reassurance in her hard, cold but frightened expression. A completely different look from the kind he had heard from the other kids.
He had told them they were stupid - praising someone who wasn't a kickboxer anymore. His drunken father once told him once athletes retire, they would become 'fat and lazy with their retirement money.' He didn't get it but he sort of understood it.
Now he wished he was with the other kids. He was both terrified and extremely happy for Jack to come to his rescue. Could they leave now?! Please!
A door opened and the sound of footsteps sent a chill down his spine. No! The bad men came back, he thought fearfully.
The blackened, orange-veined talons reached out of the darkness and gripped the side of the door. Claws scratched into wood slowly.
Ozan's eyes widened. He trembled in Jack's grasp, more horrified than before. He didn't want to look up as Jack carefully gazed up to see a large figure come into view.
It wasn't one of the bad men in those orange suits. Incense hugged too thickly to the stranger that it made the child's eyes water. They were adorned with strange tightly-wrapped garments - torn, haggard and bloodsoaked but Ozan could make out something circular and golden on the chest.
The strangest part of the attire was the yellow and red ribbons tied around the wrists.
Something just wasn't right to the kid the longer he stared at the stranger. He stood like a man. He glanced around as if carefully searching for something.
But the eyes under the hood… They stared off in a haunting, petrifying way - golden and deadly like the infected. One look could certainly turn them to stone, like the monster Ozan read off from a book once.
That wasn't a human and even a kid like him could tell.
Ozan tightened his hands on Jack's arm, the only support he could hold. He didn't want to cry. He shouldn't be afraid. His mother had told him big boys couldn't cry.
So he didn't want Jack to let him go.
He shut his eyes and prayed so hard.
Make him go away, make him go away!
Then he felt the hand go off his mouth. He gasped out, able to breathe much easier.
"It's safe," the brunette whispered.
Ozan opened one eye first. Then the other. The stranger in robes was gone. He almost laughed but all too soft for anyone to hear. He raised his head, thinking that just as he felt, the adult was also thrilled to be alive.
But he saw Jack glance off with her eyebrows knitted so tightly and a frown that couldn't be broken by anything.
Then she looked down at the kid with the usual wide smile.
"Don't worry. We're leaving."
Did Ozan make a mistake over what he saw?
He clearly saw that expression of hers.
The kid didn't say anything and let her lead him by the hand. Where? He couldn't make heads or tails the place they were locked up in but the ex-kickboxer knew exactly where to go through these halls.
Then Ozan recognized the areas they went through. Those baddies parked their trucks nearby and took them through heavy metal doors. His heart then leapt at the alien movement dancing with the sun behind them.
"Jack!"
Up ahead, Jack spotted the silhouette of the young Raz trader highlighted from the sunlight streaming through the opened garage doors. Indeed, she came across as a frightening alien to the poor child. Riza wore up her filter gas mask, which had nothing to do with virus protection and more for 'personality' as a Rav member.
Colorful splatters of glow-in-the-dark paint illuminated by the darkness but the design had a purpose. The front valve painted a simple 'w', like a cat's mouth and stained on the lens were drawn slits shaped as a cat's eyes.
But no sign of her partner. Rarely had Jack ever seen those two be apart. And those were for specific reasons. Today's state of affairs gave those reasons.
"Where's Ender?" The brunette still had to ask.
"He's with Freakazoid," Riza answered.
"Take the kid." She led Ozan over to the young adult, who willingly obliged to take his hand.
"Sure - hey! Where are you going?"
Instead of following them out to freedom, the brunette wheeled around and head back inside.
"Spotted a new type. Something worth testing on."
"You're doing that here and now?!" Riza uttered, her panic scaring the poor kid.
"It's one Special," she replied with a confident shrug before Jack darted back inside the office building. Riza couldn't stop her even if she tried.
That confidence slid off quite easily while she searched for the blasted creature. All the bells in her head warned her not to take this simple like Crybaby before. An inkling had slithered its way in when she first saw the robed infected.
That thing had opened a door. It could open a door. It wrapped its four fingers and a thumb on a handle and pulled it open as a human being would to a door.
Like Freakazoid would do.
Is that how the infected got in?
A more terrifying thought came to mind.
Was the invasion planned?
It was just one. But Jack now had second thoughts. Was she even sure there was one inside the Healthcare building? But she couldn't back away from her words. The more she thought about it, the more she bit on her lower lip as she pushed herself to think of a plan on the fly.
Alright. She'd have to tackle this in a different and delicate fashion. So Jack reached for a fire alarm and pulled it.
RINNNNNNNNNNNG!
Water rained down from the sprinklers - a giant noise attraction for outside Virals to flood into the outpost. The rain couldn't be her camouflage, however. It was a gamble if this new type could be like Freakazoid and the 20/20 vision got blurry from the showers.
Splosh, splosh.
The faint sound of someone walking across puddles in the hallways… Hard to miss it under the screeching alarm.
Jack swallowed as she tightened her grip on her weapon. Constantly telling herself this would be a piece of cake - she caught Freakazoid and with his help, Crybaby. How many Specials had she killed anyway? Alone or otherwise?
Splosh, splosh.
Unease and cockiness danced together in her mind. Waiting for the unknown had never been something she liked to partake in.
Dealing with it became her choice of action.
Splosh, splosh.
Splosh.
She swung.
Thud!
A head flung back from the pitch, the skull dented in. It had been a Biter all along that walked right into her bat.
But her hazel eyes bugged as wide as dinner plates at the being standing right behind the dead Biter. How long had they been there, dressed in those strange garments? Its talons loosened from the infected's neck and the body slung away from the bat's kinetic energy.
Jack took back what she had thought earlier. Nothing different or delicate could prepare her. It would have ended the same way, regardless of what tactic she'd used.
Her opponent was a very clever infected.
That thing used a corpse as a shield.
As bait.
A claw lunged at her collar.
"Gah!"
Jack found her feet, her whole body, off the floor. The infected in robes had no trouble picking up a woman her size. And every hit she fired did little to have herself freed from its grasp.
This was like meeting Freakazoid the first time all over again-!
Thud!
A sound prompted Jack to glance down. Comically, so did her opponent. During the tussle, something had fallen out of her jacket and onto the wet vinyl floor but nothing important that she could use though.
What could a bloody mask do in her situation? She readied her foot, hoping that if she'd aim at the solar plexus, the infected would yield.
The grip, however, tightened. The sudden momentum threw her off as she found herself inches away from the infected's face. Under the hood, she couldn't make out the features other than the bright, orange eyes - the dimness in the abandoned office building amplified their terrifying radiance to her.
An earthy scent was hinted, though. Moreover, was the thing trying to get a better look at her?
"You."
The hair on the back of her neck stood. A voice. It snaked into her skull like how Freakazoid 'spoke' to her. However, there was one main difference. She had gotten used to Freakazoid's strange telepathy after a couple of days.
Hearing another voice in her head pulled out all the red alarms again. Full-alert.
"One of us."
One of them? Who decided that?
Jack couldn't ask when she felt the grip loosened.
"Whoa!" She dropped to the floor. Just like that. Jack watched the infected seem… Satisfied? Accepting?
"Sister."
Whose sister? She searched about without ever taking her eyes fully off the being in robes. Before he wheeled away, he gave a head gesture - as if telling her to come along. The only thing that stopped her was the sense of urgency and hunger through his teeth.
The beast ambled into the shadows, neither waiting for her to follow nor giving light to her skepticism. A wail bounced along the walls, telling its brethren something. She waited for the turnaround…
But nothing happened. Other than the noise from the convicts elsewhere, the infected in robes didn't come back.
That just left Jack all the more confused.
"...What was that about?"
Count her blessings, she told herself. She bolted to the opposite direction - not without picking up the mask, the now-important key item that they seemed to have an interest in. The answers Jack had hoped to find linked to the anomalous encounter would have to be discovered another day.
Thud! She rammed a fire escape door open. Out of the damp, dark building and right into the bright day.
"Shit! Shit! Someone turn that thing off!"
The convicts didn't notice the woman in red out on the fire escape. They desperately tried to salvage the outpost but more and more of their defenses were torn down from the increasing horde.
She searched high and low.
"Freakazoid," she called over the comms. "Where are you?"
CRASH!
A body flung through the large window panels on the ground floor, out of a lecture room in the police department. Jack spotted the tall tale of the Day Hunter's blue eyes inside. Panting in and out tiredly as he eyed for any movement out of his latest infected opponent.
It stayed down. Good.
That didn't mean it was over. Crane stepped into the daylight, shrugging off the UV pains. He felt a difference in him, as frightening as it sounded, that the sun didn't seem to curse down at him anymore.
He should be running away to the shades. The whole world had forsaken him - he had shunned himself even. But now those worries seemed so insignificant to him.
Everything was chaotic in and outside the outpost. But out of the armed men scrambling away, Crane could feel a pair of eyes on him.
They belonged to the lithe Greek man, standing in the centre of the mayhem - as if he owned the spot, as if the fall and ruin didn't affect him.
It was a no brainer that he has seen the allusive monster his men talked about. Shocked beyond belief. His agape mouth then slowly turned into a creepy smile, almost maddening, like he had found his golden goose.
Or a golden zombie for that matter.
"C'mon!" Jack uttered suddenly to his right.
Crane didn't need a second time to be told what to do - the faster they'd leave, the better. He felt Jack push him by the shoulder and from that, sprinted down the streets with the ex-kickboxer right behind him.
"Stop her!"
Jack did peer back just to be sure. The Biters made a delicious distraction on the convicts that no one would pay attention to a glaring target: a woman in red huddling a Freakazoid away.
Except one. Nothing could go past him without Vlachos knowing. News easily fell into his lap, after all. Besides the growing feeling of loathing daggering from that man's gaze and right at her, Jack could read something else on his face without even trying.
He saw it. Alexander saw what Freakazoid was under the hood.
And most of all...he saw Jack.
Problems for another time.
"Stop them!"
Nobody listened to Alexander. The hooded figure and the woman in red disappeared under the bedlam.
A/N: 12/2/2022
Hello everyone! So I couldn't exactly finish the last chapter(s) because work got in the way and with DL2 already out (as I've noticed the spike of views here and on my other fic account wow), it's taking all my will power...not to spoil myself too much (and partly failing). That said, I managed to finish the current one. It was tough on how to end it off but thanks to my friend/co-editor, he did bring a good point I couldn't just leave Peri as unfinished business. So that became the aim of this chapter. And also the aim for Crane to finally let go of his shame as being a monster in people's eyes! Hopefully I've achieved that! :D
It's also a bit painful that for a 2nd arc, it's already 24 chps (count 2 intermissions!), which is something I didn't anticipate nor did I want it to be this long. X'D I'm dreading for the length of the next arcs and I really do not want to do, as my friend told me once, a very long piece of fan work. I have a life. I enjoy writing this but not to the extent of a billion-word-count fic (ahahaha pls no). There are also some things I wish I could narrow down the writing in this arc to make it shorter and there'll be some time I'll go back to try and edit. I've done that to some degree for chapter 18 and 19. So check out my DL tumblr blog for any updates and changes over there, or the end notes' timestamps.
Anyhow I hope you'll enjoy this and the next chapter is finally the last one. And then I can go play DL2 and plan out the next arc! I'm not gonna let myself be too influenced by DL2 in my writing because I still want to stick to DL1. Maybe with some twists and pulls on heartstrings, we shall see. :3
12/2/22 - Fixed and added some new minor lines.
15/2/22 - Fixed a location error, originally it was a hospital but I've changed it and overlooked some areas that still had the hospital's features.
12/3/22 - Went over a full chapter edit with some fixes, retwists, deletes and adjustments.