Dying Light: The Descent

by Vickie1

Kyle Crane returns to Harran after his disappearance, tormented by the ghosts of his past and the fear of what may have happened to those he left behind. He must navigate a fractured Harran with Mad Jack. But he doesn't know that Jack is searching for the man with the answers she needs, unbeknownst to her that he's been with her all along. (Sequel to the Following, Harran Arc)

28. INTERMISSION I-III

Chapter Summary

- CROSSING THE T'S

Jack and I decided it was time to leave Scanderoon… And to Harran. Where it all started. I can't stop her from going but I can't leave her be. At least, there's some time before we head off. The Junction can't catch a break. Being raided by GRE, had one of their own taken away and all this after a blackout. They need our help more than ever. - Kyle

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INTERMISSION I-III: FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD HUNTER

---

"Jack? It's Mahir."

"How's everyone doing?" she asked immediately over the comms as she walked away from a human corpse - head smashed open. It had been a simple and quick clean-up on the convicts at the Strait's entrance, Harran's direction.

"Could have been worse," the Junction leader started with some hesitation in his tone. Not an answer she'd like to hear. But something was clear that he had another thing in mind. Urgent, even. "Mind dropping by?"

Sounded serious. Jack couldn't fault him for thinking of assumptions and questions after everything that had happened. And with GRE.

"Sure."

"With your partner."

Ah. So it wasn't about GRE's sudden intrusion like Jack had thought.

No brainer on what this would be about and Crane knew it himself. His stomach twisted in knots after the call ended. But what oddly assured him was Jack's calm demeanor while she pondered and then glanced at him.

It took him a moment but he understood. Jack waited for him to say the word - if he would want his secret hushed or if they should continue down this path.

They could leave.

He had that option.

Crane heaved a dry sigh. "...Let's get this over with."

Jack raised her eyebrows behind her shades, genuinely surprised. But she had no qualms about whichever way Freakazoid would take on this endeavor. There was no point in hiding his secret now.

With that reluctant answer given, the two retraced back to the Junction; Jack to the gates and Crane far away way, high up in a nearby building. From the comfort of his perch, he examined the Safe Zone's condition - nothing worth problematic that few fixes couldn't solve anything but people's psyches had been tested from today's disarray.

"Did you see that guy? Got those GRE thugs running for their money."

There was the usual chatter, the tones sounding a mixture of emotions of aftermath-unease and relief. People working to reclaim order back to the Junction.

"Didn't they say something about infected?"

"Well, yeah. Thanks to all their shouting and shooting, those freaks came straight for the gates."

"Thank goodness Jack and that newcomer were at the right time. Who knows how bad things would have gotten."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

Wow. Crane was slack-jawed as he listened to the conversation picked up through Jack's comms. Then he closed his mouth, knowing it'd be pointless. People could be sceptical. He, himself, had been an example when he first heard about tamed infected in the Countryside. But one could only go so far into believing that the guy who jumped in like a beast wasn't even human.

Sure, this could go in his favor but it'd surely be tempting his fate the longer everyone played this little game.

"Looks like you're getting popular," Jack jested over the comms.

He huffed back. "This is gonna get old real fast."

"Why are you bringing her back here?!" An outburst erupted out of the Junction, loud for anyone in and outside the courtyard to hear.

"Can't win them all," she pointed to Freakazoid.

Way back in the courtyard, Mahir had been sitting down at a small, temporary base of operation. Set up quickly among all the roughhousing courtesy of GRE. He gave out orders to everyone as diligently as ever while having an earful by the Junction's 'best' trapper. One protest was made clear.

"That thing is still alive!" Quasim hollered. "And she kept it a secret from us!"

"Not right now." Yet Mahir put all of his mental focus, or on the last strain of it, into the main job. Things had to be back to normal. The Junction had to be back in operation before night would fall. "Run through the new names. Just in case we have more rats hiding in plain sight."

"Have you forgotten what those infected freaks are? It's gonna kill everyone if we don't shoot it down!"

And that was when Mahir's face darkened - his patience drawn thin.

"That includes Jack, right?"

Quasim furrowed his eyebrows - of course, it included her.

"Because she's gonna turn into one of them?"

Quasim staggered back at his slip of the tongue. "You know she's dangerous-"

"As a human or an infected?" Mahir's tone raised. "Which is it?"

Quasim was about to say both. Instead, he pushed. "She's self-destructive! We finally got help and she ruined everything by bringing that freak of nature here!"

"Help."

The ex-military man rolled up his fists and flared his nostrils. If he could stand up properly, he would have socked Quasim on the spot.

"They bashed Nazmi's head after he just woke up!" Mahir hollered - news to Jack and Freakazoid. They could only imagine how it all went in the sickbay. "They dragged a kid out like she was an animal! And we had GRE's goons inside our base for who knows how long! Under your damn watch!"

Quasim fell silent. There was nothing he could say to justify his actions or the outcomes. 'Siv should have behaved' would come out as the most insensitive excuse ever from his lips.

If he were to say that, he'd get more out of Mahir than a slap on the wrist.

"If Jack and her friend hadn't come, those two would have wound up dead! Maybe more!"

Mahir really wished he could stand up. He had so much to say.

"You don't get to decide people's lives," he warned, a finger pointed right at Quasim. "...Do that again, and I'll throw you out of here myself."

That ended it all for the trapper. No more. Mahir didn't want to hear it, not even amendments.

Quasim never wanted to jeopardize the Junction or endanger people's lives. He hadn't simply forgotten that everyone had to pitch in together. But hard choices had to be made. Sympathy was but a death sentence in their kind of situation.

He had hoped others would see his reason eye-to-eye.

None spoke up. He received a few glares: nearby civilians with untold stories that either they or a closed one was infected. The discrimination wasn't targeted at them but he might as well have labelled the sick as a risk.

"C'mon," one of his fellow trappers ushered him to leave. End it before he could make it worse on himself. There was the added distrust by two guards on the side, ready to lead him away. With or without force.

In the end, Quasim walked away.

One problem gone. Mahir let out a heavy sigh he held in for so long. He wished his growing stress could go away. Just for a day.

Then he spotted Jack by the gates.

The moment he jumped from his seat, the damage done earlier was clear in his prosthetic leg. He struggled to stand straight, adjusting his weight on that leg and marched to her with a clumsy pace.

It didn't matter to him. He had one goal in mind. Right now, Jack, a visitor and trusted ally to the Junction, was the only one who could give him the answers he sought.

"He's only looking out for the Junction." A compliment like that could come out unexpectedly from her, the very person Quasim vilified.

Mahir's body stiffened at the compliment with a hardened look. Well-intentional notions with dire consequences like that were out of his book.

"Doesn't exclude his behavior. Things wouldn't have gotten this bad…"

"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions." Another unexpected quote out of her mouth - but nobody could disagree. Freakazoid, as well from so far away.

"Intentions. Right," Mahir uttered with the intent of changing to a more pressing topic. "Help me out here."

She nodded gracefully, ready to take whatever he had to say.

One deep inhale out of the Junction leader. Then right to the point.

"Your partner's not human, is he?"

It was a question bound to be asked - one Crane had dreaded to hear. And Jack did nothing to hide it either.

Why should she at this point? The whole Junction knew about him now, at least, his foreboding presence - the grotesque Day Hunter 'that's been terrorizing the district for days'. The monster they thought had been caught and dead as a bounty, was now alive and still terrifying.

He made a mess in the Junction. He couldn't blame the civilians for being rightfully horrified at an infected invasion inside a safe zone.

Again, Jack glanced over her shoulder to the main gates behind her. Mahir furrowed his eyes, trying to follow her gaze to who knew where in the surroundings. But an inkling feeling told him exactly what she was looking for.

Jack gave Freakazoid one more chance to back away. And the silence told her he wouldn't take it.

She turned back to Mahir. "Technically, he is infected."

Not an answer Mahir wanted to hear. Anyone could have taken it one way or another.

"Jack, I need you to be honest with me." He had closed the distance between them. His concerned eyes darted around, making sure nobody could hear them. "He's that Day Hunter everyone's been talking about."

"Of course."

Mahir's eyes stretched wide at how nonchalant and open Jack was. Moreover, how she was handling this fine. He had a hard time accepting it, including the existence of a new monster.

"I don't know exactly what a Night Hunter looks like but it can't be better-looking than Freakazoid. He cleans after himself."

"How are you this calm?" he muttered.

All while Crane thought vocally to himself, "You and me both."

"Cat's already out of the bag," Jack pointed. And that was a mutated humanoid freak. "Wouldn't do any good if I held my tongue now."

"Is he dangerous?"

Another well-deserved question that Crane felt a little hurt but he swallowed his emotions. He had to endure what was to come.

"As dangerous as any person in this city." Not any 'thing'. Any person. A human. The right wording brings out a whole different level of context.

Mahir needed a minute: taking a step back, ambling a small circle into the ground before he turned back to her. Too many questions rammed around in his head to process.

"Stay with me, Mahir. It's not the weirdest thing you've ever heard before."

"Why didn't you tell me about him?"

"Isn't it obvious? You wouldn't believe me."

The leader looked at her with wide eyes at such a straightforward answer from her. Then burst out a defeated sigh - Mahir couldn't deny that line of thinking. "Yeah. I still don't believe it… Do you know how insane this all sounds? What do I tell everyone?"

The brunette tilted her head in a fashion that his question was a curious one.

"I don't see why you need to," even crazier, Jack suggested that idea to him. An idea Crane himself was against immediately. "He's not hurting anyone. Just crooks and baddies."

"You want me to spin the truth."

"I'm not saying anything the sort," she continued. "We won't be staying around either way."

Mahir knew: Jack had already told him since Day One, she would only be around for a while. Harran had been her destination before she made a forceful pitstop. As crazy as it sounded, she even made it seem like the both of them were heading out. Together. Without trying to kill each other.

Nobody in their right mind would want to be pals with a zombie.

"If I tell them about your partner, what then?" Mahir asked. He was in this deep, he might as well see how far Jack had fallen into the rabbit hole.

"I'd imagine they won't be happy. Not good for morale." She shrugged her shoulders. "Sure, he's scary."

"Oh, really?" Mahir cut her off by stating the obvious. Like anyone couldn't see that!

"But he did a lot of good too," and Jack cut him off next. "Helped me get Antizin. Got the power back on for the whole city. Found those missing people."

At first, Crane was uncertain about where she was going with this speech, watching her 'sell her pitch' nonchalantly. But surprisingly, the atmosphere didn't feel as heavy as a few minutes ago.

"And you saw what happened here," she added.

No response from Mahir - he listened all right but the thoughts he had overwhelmed him. Who could hold a normal conversation with a madwoman?

And yet, she stood in front of him, calm and cool-headed.

"Freakazoid might be a little different from your average infected. But ever seen a Hunter go around doing heroic things for humans?"

"No, they do not." Anyone would have given the same answer as Mahir.

It sounded absurd. Unbelievable. And frankly, Jack would have thought that as well if she didn't bear witness to their little adventures this far.

"He's proven to be an asset. Trust me, you'll want him on your side."

Mahir couldn't believe it. Jack, the newcomer of the Junction, really had so much trust in one infected - that hadn't eaten her up yet.

Again, Jack pushed.

"I can't ask you to treat him any different than a sick person."

Mahir gawked but didn't protest. People bitten and infected with the Harran Virus, and people turned after the infection won the battle… It wasn't a good comparison - the only tipping points were when someone would foam at the mouth, lose control and mutate.

He couldn't give a valid argument when in front of him was also an infected survivor. Will had already told him about the bites on her arms… Holding up arms to protect the vitals was a common move in any hand-to-hand combat. A reckless one against Biters.

If he were to see a helpful Day Hunter as a danger, then the same should be said for Jack. And every infected survivor in the Junction.

"But I can ask you to give him a chance. Say the word and we'll leave."

Eye to eye, the two went into a staring contest. Neither side wavered. It was an odd request, one Mahir couldn't understand but it was an extraordinary tale: a sentient zombie being a companion to a human.

Mahir could end it right there. He could let Jack and her…'friend' go off on their merry ways.

He ended with a deep sigh.

"Is he around?"

"He's on watch as we speak."

Again, Mahir perked his head up like an ostrich on high alert. He scanned about, thinking he could spot the elusive infected.

"You can chat with him."

Mahir's eyes widened again, right on Jack.

"He talks?" Anyone would have thought this was perhaps one of the craziest things out of Jack's mouth.

"Oh, yes. Can't stop complaining about every little thing," she jested.

"That…explains so much. What Carl and Peri said before… He really thinks he's human?"

Ok, Crane got it. It was already insane that he could come back with his marbles. But he didn't need to be treated like a rare clueless specimen on a constant basis.

"He's bloody clever. Not delusional," Jack explained in the nicest way possible.

Mahir loosened up. Or at least tried to. But his frown stayed on his face. Back and forth his mind went on a decision.

As a man in charge of a Safe Zone and the well-being of others on his hands, he had to assess everything. The risks, the benefits, the priorities, etc.

Asking her to bring her partner to the Junction for him to see if he was a threat or not himself? Mahir would just be as crazy as Mad Jack if he did so. But the air around her assured both of them she was right in mind.

Was it a risk worth doing? Could a reformed zombie turn around and hurt something the moment he went through with it? Because if that were to happen, it'd be his head as well.

He wasn't the only one with second thoughts. For Crane, though, it was a burden. One wrong move and Jack would pay for him. It almost prompted him to step forward in protest. Or leave now and cut ties altogether.

Then Mahir gave up on the spot, dragging a hand through his short hair in disbelief. He had enough of going around in circles and the time spent trying to be convinced by Jack? It was indeed commendable. A subtle hint of appreciation surfaced on his face.

"Just the gates," Mahir pointed. "I can't stop anyone if he acts up."

Jack tilted her head to the right, surprised. "You can still tell us to leave."

The offer still stood but the ex-military leader didn't take it or change his mind. He should have.

"…He saved the Junction. Both of you saved the whole city."

"He's the unsung hero here. I just tagged along."

Tagged alone. Anyone who heard that would think she went for the ride with a sentient infected. And again, she played the modesty card like that.

A hero. Crane grimaced with revolt at that word. No matter how polished and gleaming Jack's words were, no matter how truthful she spoke, that label left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Some intrusive thoughts did rear their ugly way into his head. Negative; telling him he didn't deserve the praise, he didn't save everyone, he caused everything, on and on.

Then he spotted the ex-kickboxer in the red jacket looking back at him with a grin.

From Jack, his sight jumped to Mahir - looking like some of the weight was lifted off his shoulders. Then the people in the courtyard. Alive, a bit weary but thankful they could live another day.

Once again, Kyle was grounded. He was reminded: that lives could have been lost if he had stood by.

"You heard the man," he heard Jack call over the comms. "Wanna come down from your ivory tower?"

A gesture of welcome - something Crane thought he couldn't and shouldn't be given. One he should take as a warning. He settled himself down with a few breathing techniques and bit by bit, worked up the courage.

Time to test the waters with this one.

He dropped out of the factory, legs down and arms raised. The height would have left him with broken feet if a human neglected his parkour training. Not a problem for an infected, however.

And he was out in the open for everyone to see.

Crane took a few wary steps forward. But he wouldn't pass the gates. Everyone inside had their hands full: tending to the injured, checking what was taken and recovering from the incident with GRE.

He did feel…unwanted. Afraid. A true outcast longing for normal interaction but the moment he'd stepped in, the short moment of peace would be once again disturbed. Broken down like glass. Jack's company was appreciated, one way or another, but in his mind, it was wishful thinking if everyone would be keen about having a sentient freak around…

Crane took one hesitant step back, half a mind to turn to the shadows…

Then another few as he passed the front gates, awkwardly looking at his left and right.

The reactions were expected: some of the guards gripped their weapons tight while some citizens close to the gates stepped back with gasps. It prompted him to pull his hood further down and scarf up even more.

And yet.

Nobody jumped at his throat or called for his blood. He was seen by the majority as a new stranger, scary in size but no one yelled "infected".

It stupefied him. He wanted a mirror to see what it was that people couldn't see in him - then changed his mind on the spot because he didn't want to see that whole horrid picture about himself. Either the disguise was that good or they couldn't believe the idea of a zombie friend. Perhaps because Freakazoid wasn't scorching under the UV lights he passed through. Maybe because he wasn't snarling and hissing.

Whatever it was, the reaction didn't spread far and didn't last long. Anyone in the back had other things in mind than worrying about a new face. Life in an outbreak moved on in a foreign yet familiar way.

Crane took in a deep breath to untangle his nerves and took a few more steps.

Approaching the slack-jawed ex-army man and the cheery brawler.

"This is Freakazoid," Jack introduced. Right to the point.

Mahir examined Freakazoid from head to toe. He could see the tiny hints all right and up close - the blue eyes as the obvious point. Thankfully, he stayed calm and if he were to retaliate, the professional ex-military man knew it'd be a fight he couldn't win.

He found it extremely odd, though. The infected man just stood still. Nothing said. Nothing done. As if he didn't know whether to be a zombie or a human on the spot.

"He's very shy," Jack continued the ice-breaker. More of pushing Crane's buttons but with the intent of easing the tension in the air. "Needs some time to warm up to people."

"I can stay outside."

Mahir nearly froze up at the hoarse voice. His years in the army helped him refrain from jumping away. But not good enough.

He heard it all right. The hoarse voice that almost sounded like a Volatile.

What made it all the more unnatural was the strange, mellow banter between the two.

"Nothing's stopping you."

"Except you making me look like an idiot."

"I would never do such a thing." Under the scarf, Crane scrunched up his face. He found that hard to believe. "I'm simply making this interview easier on you."

"Interview." He folded his arms. "I should have gotten my best tie then."

"Who needs a tie when you got that riveting charm of yours. All you're missing is the red carpet."

"I can't believe they haven't kicked you out yet," Crane groaned in defeat.

"That just means I've built enough trust to maintain a good business," she exclaimed with a hint of pride in her voice, enough to make him roll his silver-blue eyes.

Roll his eyes. Mahir couldn't believe the day he would witness such a gesture in a zombie. A Hunter, doing a human thing.

"It's all about finding common ground, mate," Jack pushed cheekily. "I'm sure you've done that before."

"I can just go," he grumbled, this time directed to Mahir. Both thumbs pointed to the gate. Almost as if the big hooded man was running away from something.

"Alright," Mahir uttered, just to stop this crazy banter. And if he let the monster walk out, people would ask more questions. Back and forth again, with his limited mobility.

Count their stars that they have a Day Hunter on their side and not the other way around.

"Good enough for you?" Jack sang.

"I…suppose. But if he starts craving for humans-"

"-I'll be the first to go, don't worry," she quipped with a smirk.

Crane shot her an icy glare, despite it being hidden by the scarf and good. "Really helping your case here, Jack."

Mahir cleared his throat. "Just…stay in line. I don't need to tell you we've had enough problems without adding a rogue infected into the mix."

Crane nodded, though a bit stiffly. "Understood. You won't hear a peep out of me."

"Right. Sure," Mahir exclaimed. He wasn't believing him. Not that he could blame him. "Alright… What now?"

"We might stick around for a bit," Jack explained confidently. "I can show my partner around here."

"Whoa, wait. You're sure about that?"

"Yeah. He's right. Are you sure? " Crane's voice almost vibrated as he agreed completely with Mahir on that idea.

"It's the best way for him to build trust again." She jabbed an elbow at Freakazoid.

Crane was momentarily stunned, his eyes searching hers. That raw honesty left her always somewhat vulnerable.

Mahir shifted uneasily but kept quiet. Anyone could sense the depth behind that exchange.

"And in the meantime, clean up the mess GRE left behind. Help folks around. The usual," Jack continued.

The usual. Only four months and Mahir had wished their grim situation would change for the better. The idea of getting used to it left an unsettling feeling to him but it was one he knew couldn't go away if this kept going.

"...It's not that simple," Crane murmured.

At least, he didn't look away like before, Jack thought to herself. "I know. But it's a start."

A start. Everything has been 'a start' for him. But for once, he didn't feel afraid of the idea that no one would have his back during his darkest times.

"After that, it's Harran. Those blokes took Umit after all."

Jack had never strayed away from that ultimate goal. She left the Outskirts and she intended to go there. There had been the abrupt pit stop but she encountered many fascinating things along the way. And Freakazoid being the main attraction.

Now she had more reason to go there.

"Umit." Mahir grimaced with a shaking fist. This hadn't been the first time the Junction lost a resident but the fact that GRE took one of their own all the more made him hateful of his incompetence. "GRE are inhuman."

"They need him for a reason. Alive. We'll find him."

With a deep breath, Mahir recollected his composure. He, a leader, almost lost it.

All he could do was put his trust in Jack for Umit's safe return. And her partner.

"You can hold off on your own?" she asked Mahir.

What a question to ask after everything. So many new things were added to Mahir's long list, and it had only been noon.

"For as long as we can ride this out," was the one honest answer he could give.

Yet those words hid a grim reality behind them. It had been a matter of time until something bad would happen. And it did happen.

"Things can only go up from here. Asem always says, "We got in this together, we'll get out together"."

Hearing that brought a soft smile to Mahir's face. But it was stiff - nostalgia twisted with some bittersweet memories and worry. For a moment, he didn't realize Jack could see him glance away, far in thought, until it was too late.

"You haven't talked to her since I got here."

His whole body reaction showed he's been caught. Not as if he tried to hide it in the first place. She could read off him that he has thought about it ever since Jack first arrived at the Junction. But he had backpedalled on it. And work got the better of him since.

"Whatever history you two have is none of my business. But hearing an old voice isn't going to sour things up, right?"

The leader relaxed, for the first time in the longest time. Now that he thought about it, how long had he heard from her? Since he left the army?

Funny how he's been meeting old mates as of late.

"...Appreciated, Jack."

She shrugged - a gesture saying she didn't do much. He made that choice himself.

Mahir was about to hobble off to the radio room but stopped himself. A thought crossed his mind, making him wave a finger at the Night Hunter in disguise.

"And… Keep him out of trouble."

"Will do."

Crane was both annoyed and defeated. Being treated like a Volatile pet wasn't exactly how he had envisioned himself coming back to society. But for now, it was…fairly better than the alternative.

So he let it go. There was just no winning the argument. There shouldn't be any winning.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" Jack then suddenly uttered.

Crane squished his eyes tight at the grinning brunette. "Next time. Mark my word."

"Really, mate. You can be such a wet blanket sometimes."

"Alright. I'll add 'professional wet blanket' to my resume then."

As Mahir trotted off indoors, another person had been waiting on the sidelines at the warehouse's door entrance. Siv was patient but she was also anxious, tapping her heel up and down.

She had waited long enough, Jack thought and approached her. Freakazoid didn't follow - a private conversation only for the two. The young girl bounced right up, partly relieved to see Jack alive and stubborn in hiding her worry for her.

"So," the brunette started. "I heard you let Freakazoid in. Through the back door."

"Well, someone got hauled away in all of this," Siv reminded her.

"Not my finest moment." The usual casual shake-off reassured Siv that the brunette wasn't too affected after something so chaotic like that. True to the name, Mad Jack was indestructible against any sort of disaster and Siv couldn't agree more.

"Well, it worked out in the end." A weak laugh, followed by a boosted one.

Jack couldn't complain since she had been out of the loop. The young runner's brash plan on the fly really did turn the tide for the Junction - as she said, it worked out for the better.

But Jack's grin drooped down to a frown. It was still a brash and thoughtless plan.

"It was still dangerous. Those men could have hurt you."

Siv didn't talk back. She would have rolled her eyes for any upcoming complaint. And there was getting an earful from Mahir later, about security risks.

However subtle she tried to be, the young girl visibly recoiled from the terror she endured. Being grabbed by the hair like that and pulled aside…

It scared her. And she couldn't hide the trembles from the ex-kickboxer.

"Leave it to the professionals next time." Jack reached out and gripped her shaking hands together. "You're too young to be doing heroism."

Praise was the last thing on Siv's mind and thankfully, the comfort helped. She never thought of a feat like that. Simply, anyone would have jumped in if someone was getting hurt and she chose to do so.

She could feel the calluses under Jack's glove, rougher than hers. Twenty years apart made all the difference and it also would reflect the difference in experience.

But the outbreak certainly added more years to Jack, just like everyone else enduring it.

The more she thought about it, the more Siv wanted to rethink the word, indestructible. Any feat Jack accomplished? It wasn't without bruises and scars. Kinda like something she read up on the internet once. Japanese pottery repaired with gold? She couldn't remember the name.

Siv swallowed and swung right back to her tough girl persona. To save face. "I couldn't let those jerks do whatever they want."

"No. But someone else would have shown them the way out."

"Yeah. A six-foot-tall giant with an arm blade," Siv pointed. The Junction had all sorts of people with their own strengths and they had what it took to show them. And none of those people could rival Freakazoid when she first saw him.

On the spot, though, Siv looked ashamed. "I know you wanted to keep it a secret from everyone."

Jack just shrugged her shoulders. Semantics.

"That's Freakazoid's problem," she corrected her, showing that it didn't matter to Jack if the secret was out or not. "It was bound to happen."

"If it helps, I don't think everyone has caught on."

"It doesn't."

Siv nearly leapt out of her skin and glanced over Jack's shoulder, along with the grinning brunette doing the same.

The Hunter's damn hearing. How frightening that he could interject into a conversation like that…

Then the teenager glared back at him. Eavesdropping was a terrible thing to do but she certainly wasn't going to talk back to him about that.

Jack chuckled. "You two can drill holes with glares like that. We're all on the same page here."

"Exactly who do you mean that for? Us or him?"

Siv then narrowed the gap between her and Jack to the point she was right to her ear, all so Freakazoid couldn't hear. Hopefully.

"For a rabid infected, he sure is a little…loony."

"He's not biting anyone." Jack might as well entertain and reassure the little princess. "If he was, I'd be the first he sinks in."

"That's not what I mean… I heard you're heading to Harren."

Jack expected a look of disappointment out of the youngster, which a sliver of it was present in her facial features. But she didn't see the usual pessimism from days ago - in fact, Siv had a little shine come back to her eyes.

The Wild Dog would come back to Scanderoon, she was sure of it.

"Yes. I am."

"To find your cousin."

"Umit, too. We can't forget about him."

"Yeah." It looked almost as if a conversation would end just like that but something was on Siv's mind. "You said your cous's a parkour instructor."

An out-of-the-blues comment, one Jack didn't think was problematic. "That I did."

"He wouldn't have the same last name as you, right?"

Rather specific again. Now the prying itched at Jack's suspicion. "Brecken isn't exactly a common name."

"Oh." Siv's expression twisted so quickly that it was only a brief moment for Jack to pick on. The whisper came out of her mouth so quietly. "Shit, he never said he had family…"

"Who?"

"Hm?" Siv perked up, loud in her response. Didn't hide her wide eyes darting around, averting eye contact with the retired kickboxer.

Did the youngster suddenly play dumb in front of her?

"Then…do you know a student named Rahim?"

Jack's hazel eyes stretched as big as dinner plates as she pushed her shades down. Now that was a name she didn't expect to hear.

"Rahim Aldemir." The mention of his name made Siv's eyes wide with hope and disbelief. "We're talking about the same guy, yes?"

"He's my senior. He was the one that got me interested in parkour and took me to Brecken."

"Of course, he would." Jack had to refrain from pinching the crooked bridge of her nose. "That lad has an act for networking." She could see him go far if he would put his mind on his own future.

Siv looked baffled and at the same time, relieved. She couldn't believe her luck at meeting someone from Harran and that said person knowing someone she knew.

"I haven't seen him since my mom sent me here... How is he?"

Jack deflated on the spot, the infectious concern leeching onto Siv as well. "Your guess is as good as mine. Haven't seen him since the outbreak happened in Harran."

The young runner grimaced - so they were both in the dark.

But that did answer one thing on her mind.

Her eyes trailed to the Day Hunter, his gaze suddenly averted for some reason. Siv furrowed, thinking long and hard.

She couldn't take it. She had to ask.

"Hey. Freakazoid."

Crane was taken aback - someone other than Jack calling for him. But he could see it in the young girl's determined gaze; what was really on her mind.

All too familiar to Crane. He knew on the spot why she stared at him so intently.

Fear quelled inside of him.

"Why do you kno-"

It was a panicked grasp of her arm before that 'name' almost slipped off Siv's tongue.

She stiffened up from a sudden monster lunge. Even Jack flinched at the questionable jump from Freakazoid, almost wondering: had the bloke lost it?

But the grip was gentle. Freakazoid refrained from digging his talons deep. What surprised Siv more was his eyes locked onto hers, filled with…a pleading intensity. The silver-blue hue, even in its monstrous nature, portrayed a depth of emotion that was almost human.

"Please," again, Crane pleaded. Very softly.

It was a simple word but loaded with meaning. That was when Siv spied his gaze wavering for just a quick second.

At Jack.

Siv hesitated with growing confusion. What was going on?

Did something happen…?

She could have pushed. She was scared and unsure, unable to put the pieces together.

But something in her told her to stop pressing further. Because she was more afraid of what she might learn.

Freakazoid's pleading eyes told her that.

With that, Freakazoid's grasp on her arm loosened off. The monster's entire body seemed to deflate with relief, his aimless gaze thanking Siv.

"Oi."

The awkward atmosphere shifted as the brunette suddenly forced herself between the two. Eyebrows furrowed tightly behind her shades.

For the first time, both of them could see the rare expression where the Mad Dog was out of the loop for once.

"Mate," she said to Freakazoid, before turning to Siv. "Hon. Mind sharing with me what you two were just talking about?"

Siv tumbled back from the Mad Jack's narrowed gaze. Sheez, like facing her teacher for messing around. "That he…knows…his…"

No go. Her mind was drawing a blank.

"My way around Scanderoon." It wasn't the best white lie he could pull but Crane had to pull something out of his ass and with what the kid could give him to work with. He gestured a hand to Jack. "I have a good tour guide helping me."

Jack's sharp gaze flickered back and forth between her partner and Siv.

"What he said," Siv commented awfully too quickly.

The two were already in cahoots. Somehow. But Jack didn't push it right then.

"...I did say I know the best places." She stepped back, giving them breathing space. However, her stance told Crane all too well that she sensed a story. And she didn't like the secrecy.

"Oh, give the guy some slack, Jack," Siv suddenly intervened. "You just said we're all friends here."

"You are right about that."

"Of course. I'm always right," she boosted rather defensively. "I can even do your touring better. There's a lot of new places you don't know about in Scanderoon."

Oh boy. Crane doubted that the young runner could see him shake his head. Please, kid. Stop helping.

"I'll take your word for it." Jack's expression, however, remained unchanged. In fact, she had her arms crossed and a tapping finger.

"Glad to hear that," Siv uttered with an almost higher pitch in her tone. She pointed two thumbs to her right. "Lots of work to do for Junction. You know the drill."

The young teen walked away in a bolt. Out of the weird mess she was in.

Siv tried, and that counted in Crane's book. For better or worse. That didn't mean it douched the suspicion out of Jack. She put her hands in her pockets and strolled closely to him with the same dissatisfied look, now directed at him - the main culprit.

"I'm not letting that go. Whatever you two talked back there."

Crane gave a light nod of acknowledgement. Certainly, Jack treaded much closer to his secrets than he had liked. But whether she was cold or hot, for now, it gave him a bit more time for him to sort out his thoughts.

He still wasn't ready. Not yet.

Crane tilted his head, offering a faint smirk under the scarf. "You know, for someone who prides herself on knowing everything, you sure are serious around her."

Jack's frown slanted further at the amused, quiet Day Hunter. "You make it sound like I'm a bad influence on her."

"No," he replied with a faint chuckle. That was hard to believe. "Just…meticulous."

She huffed, hands on hips. "That girl's likely to get herself in danger if I left her alone."

"Hm-hm." He hadn't forgotten what could have happened to the young runner during that one chase. "She doesn't listen, does she?"

"In one ear and out the other." That ushered a sigh right out of the seasoned fighter - that left Crane to his imagination how many times this Siv girl had made it hard on Jack.

The two watched the young runners talk. Their faces, after such an ordeal too, seemed a little more relaxed. An exchange of friendly gestures passed about before Siv rigorously set down the list of things they had to do quickly. Younger and older than her, the runners listened attentively. Now they had to pull their weight more than ever.

Jack smiled softly at the improvements. Perhaps with Peri back, it rekindled some hope in the runners. And in turn, the rest of the Junction.

"Siv will be fine while we're gone. She's got people to keep her company."

Crane hoped so.

He didn't like that the age for volunteer work was getting younger inside Scanderoon's quarantine zone. But what could he say? Tell those runners not to put themselves in danger? Pointless.

The thing he could do was offer a hand. Like Jack said, they could finish any business they had with the city before leaving…

He could say nothing and turn away. Play the cold-hearted freak like he had originally planned before crossing paths with Jack.

But that hope in the Junction needed to keep burning a little longer…

"Might as well take more of their load off while we're still here."

How surprising, Jack's face said. More work from her client, when they just had Alexander put a fat bullseye on them. Either Freakazoid had his priorities all over the place or he was all too comfy in his role as the reformed zombie.

Or he could be delaying time as much as possible until she'd get sailing to Harran.

No complaints out of her, however. Other than maybe they would attract more unwanted attention.

But Mad Jack the ex-kickboxer didn't mind that at all.

"Let's do that, mate," she agreed.

---

SIDE QUEST: FEED THE MOLES

---

We seem to have a rat problem inside the base. Now I know nothing about pest extermination but I do have someone good at hunting down vermins. I'm curious to see what kind of tricks Freakazoid knows. - Jack

---

"Now that you've integrated yourself back into society, how about taking the helm this time around?"

Crane had heard a lot of wild things out of Jack's mouth. He's tolerated them to a degree. This time, however.

"You're joking," he exclaimed vocally. Ever since he's been welcomed into the Junction, he's refrained from using that telepathic voice of his so freely. Understandable, he didn't want to spook people off.

Good, she thought. Sometimes it felt weird hearing a voice in her head that wasn't hers.

"With all the heroics you've done, you've earned a little trust with the Junction. So, why not take it a step further?" Jack proposed.

"There's a fine line between a step and a leap."

"You've done this before." Jack took a confident stance in front of him. "Hearing people out. Helps them to be a little more open with you."

"And that's a good thing?"

"Better to make friends than enemies." She watched the hooded man scoff, pacing back and forth with hesitation. "You won't know until you try. The worst they can do is chase us out."

"You know the right words, don't you?"

"I also know I'm right," she chided. Her tone then took a slight change in seriousness as she replied, "You're not alone in this. I got your back."

Crane heaved out a long, heavy sigh after a moment of thinking - hoping she could just drop the idea and continue working as his front.

"I can't believe you're talking me into this," his last complaint and the two headed to the Junction's storage area. He got a pat on the back as reassurance.

The good thing about the Junction was the warehouses within the protected area. The amount of space and shelves provided everything needed to steel against the storm that was the Scanderoon outbreak; stations were set up and an assortment of items was stacked. Reserved food and oil, medical supplies, emergency supplies and infrastructure tools.

The work in organizing never ended - people walked in and out, already passing by the person in charge. Basil, the Juction's quartermaster had pretty much stayed at the entrance for most of the day, keeping track of the faction's inventory.

As the two runners approached, Crane spotted him - a man of medium build with graying hair. Over his right eyebrow were the past signs of a healed scratch from a Biter.

"Hey," Crane started off skittish, trying his best to control the tone in his voice. "You're Basil, right?"

"Yeah." And already, Crane knew from the tone and mannerisms. Basil was wary of new faces, even faces covered up with a scarf and hood.

Off to a good start.

"You're Jack's friend," Basil's tone started with a bit of resistance, the kind of test to spot any hint that might sout things further on first impressions. "...So…adjusting to things fine?"

Ok, that took him by surprise.

Crane hesitated a bit. "You could say that. You have a vermin problem?"

"Big ones. A bunch of GRE moles to be precise," Basil mumbled as he folded his arms disappointedly.

"Mahir was insisting on a roster recheck for spies," Jack pointed.

"Indeed. Our number's lower than yesterday so we know those bastards have scurried off during that raid. But we also have some supplies missing. And it's not just a miscount or misplaced box."

"Could it be one of our own people?" Jack dared propose the idea, which brought a wrinkle on Basil's face. The thought did cross his mind. Just once.

"Can't be if they're after medical supplies. Nazmi locked them up specifically for the sick bay."

"Nazmi?" A name Jack didn't expect to hear.

"Works in logistics with me…" He gave a graceful look at Jack. "Thanks for what you did back then. I thought Quasim would have done something-"

Quickly, he stopped himself and shook his head.

"It's already hard enough keeping those shitty Biters out and now we got shit to worry about indoors."

"We'll take care of them," Crane assured him.

Basil heaved a deep sigh, relieved actually.

"Nazmi and I are the only ones with the main key to some of the storage rooms here." Basil held up from around his neck three silver keys on a necklace. "…And you know where he is right now."

"So they nicked his keys while he was out of it," Jack connected the dots and shook her head. "Lowest of the low, that is."

"Got any idea what they took?" Crane asked.

"For starters," Basil picked up his clipboard and a pair of glasses, its temples snapped off. The ends were tied with a string as an act of desperation to keep them useful rather than throwing them away. He narrowed his eyes, gazing through the lens and reading down the list. "Looks like they took one first aid, a bottle of painkillers and a pack of batteries."

"One of our rats must have gotten into a scuffle during the whole riot," Jack pointed. "Easy enough to find an injured man."

"Easy…" Crane mumbled. "They couldn't have gone far."

Easy might have been a poor choice of words on Jack's part. Effortless would be the right one.

Freakazoid's eyesight has been one she gave praise and dreaded sometimes. How often he was able to know three bandits behind two walls - the man was frightening. So of course, he could easily browse around the surrounding areas for a man with some sort of injury. He kept saying something about seeing people's skeletons. Like x-ray vision.

Which prompted Jack to shove that one bit of detail out of her mind. Irrelevant stuff if it wasn't going to help with their investigation.

One glance around and none of the men he saw close by had anything like a fracture or signs of internal pain.

"This is like a needle in a haystack," Jack uttered. "I thought these blokes might stand out."

"This is GRE we're talking about. They're not gonna blend in as tourists."

"Can't argue there," she said coolly. "So? You're the bloodhound here."

He grunted, displeased at the nickname. A mutant's senses were useless in this situation. "Our thief is a mercenary through and through. He won't be the type to make chitchat with the locals."

"A third of the Junction has military backgrounds."

"I didn't say it'd be that simple," he muttered. "We'll have to comb anyone wearing military-grade shoes and desert gear. Maybe a tactical watch. SunStone's a good brand."

"Hm."

That was when Jack frowned. The longer she digested Freakazoid's words, the more it didn't sit right with her.

Anyone could have a watch. However-

"Why that particular brand?"

His body stiffened in front of her. More fuel to her suspicion.

"It's…a very distinctive watch. Standard wear for outdoor stuff."

"Yes. A pretty pricey kind. A mercenary's salary can certainly afford maybe a hundred of those."

"Really?" Crane uttered, his voice a bit shrill. "Some guys just have good taste."

"Hm-hmm."

Uh-oh. That judging 'hm-hm' out of the brunette.

At the corner of his eyes, a blessing in disguise came to him in the form of a commotion happening at the Junction's canteen. He shouldn't feel glad to see a disturbance. But he'd take it.

"Heads up. Canteen."

And off Freakazoid went on a slightly quick pace.

"I'm not going to forget that, you hear?"

Oh, he heard. Crane just didn't care.

"We did not take it!" one man barked, slapping his palms angrily as if making his point stand.

"Well, someone did! You've been complaining about having not enough ingredients for your stupid kebabs," a woman snapped.

"Oh, so we're the first suspects you think of," another man shouted. "You closed your kitchen off from us!"

"Because we have to keep them in stock! We're in the middle of a pandemic!"

"Then you should be asking whoever did it. It ain't us."

"Whoa!" Crane jumped in, quickly intervening. Two small groups were arguing at a small loading area by the canteen: one that wore the standard white chef attires and the other flaunting a more eclectic ensemble by two parked food trucks.

In an instance, they stopped - half angry, half shocked. He did let loose his voice in the chaos.

Geez, it reminded him of Harran.

"What's going on?"

"Someone's been stealing food from the pantry," the woman in the white coat barked, Miray.

"And like I've told you, we're not the ones!" Lutfi, co-owner of the "Kebab Kickers" truck, defended. His pal, Idris stood behind him.

Miray was about to shout until Jack jumped in as well to defuse the situation.

"Before you continue this spat, answer me this. What they took from the pantry, how many mouths do you think it'll feed?" Jack asked, rather straightforwardly that it took the chef by surprise.

"Well…I think enough for two."

"Two rats. Our thief must be doing all the heavy work for their injured partner."

"They plan to patch themselves up and eat before they bail," Crane added.

"Bail? What are you talking about?" Aaron, a local chef assistant demanded.

"It's just a misunderstanding, people. They didn't steal anything from you," Crane assured them as blunt and vague as possible.

"Then you know who did it?" Sinan, owner of the temporarily busted food truck - the vehicle gutted and converted from the inside into a vendor stall of standard supplies for the courageous types like Jack, Crane, runners and trappers.

"We'll get to the bottom of it," he explained.

There were some grumbles, some complaints that the whole thing didn't need to escalate like it did. Thankfully, an accusation didn't proceed into an all-out fight. One by one, the groups dispersed, one to the canteen and the other to the trucks.

Probably because of a very tall hooded man who stood between them.

"Meds, food. Our moles are prepping themselves their way out," Jack stated the obvious.

"It's only been some time since GRE raided this place. They don't want to get caught."

"That's a bold move to try slipping an injured man out of the Junction. People are gonna ask."

"But they're not gonna stick around either."

"Got any ideas?"

Crane has realized on the spot how much fun Jack was having - watching him take the lead. No, partly that. She hoped something new and telling might come out of him.

Another huff instead.

"They need to get out quickly… Back door."

Fewer eyes there than at the front gates. He turned to that direction and sauntered.

"It might already be too late, Freakazoid," Jack proposed and it wasn't one he didn't object to. "The only thing that can stop them are the Biters."

That was when he stopped.

No. Of course. Why didn't he think that? He worked for GRE.

"Batteries," he uttered.

Jack watched a lightbulb flicker bright in the hooded man.

"Why do they need batteries?"

She tried to answer, pondering at indeed something both insignificant and significant. "...Your guess is as good as mine."

"If they wanted to leave, they would need more than a day of food and meds. This is an outbreak," he stated, arms gesturing out to the obvious problem outside these walls.

"The one with the injury isn't gonna take a risk."

"GRE had a reason to target the Junction in the first place. The way I see it, they need contact."

"Ahhh. Walkie-talkies."

"Best shot they have is to stay low and find whatever they're looking for."

"They already took Umit."

"It doesn't need to be a person. Intel's the next best thing for mercenaries."

"And how do you know this, mate?"

Shit. He had to give that little piece of information. More of his cards could be seen even when he wasn't intending to show his hand.

"Well… I've…picked up a few things. Over the years."

"Really? Mind sharing some tips?"

"Me?" He feigned ignorance, receiving a nod from Jack. Crane snorted. "They're pretty useless stuff."

"Can't all be useless. You seem to know a good idea how these GRE mercs operate. Is it too far-fetched to say you might have worked for them before?"

The question prompted him to clear a sudden knot in his throat. This was getting way too close to home again.

"They're waiting for an opening… It's what I'd do."

Crane stood in a stalemate. He knew how these men would think. But he didn't know what was the objectives.

For once, he wished he could read minds.

"...Then you need to bait them."

The next proposal out of Jack's mouth was a simple enough plan. He didn't disagree but this was GRE they were talking about.

"Sure. If we know what they're after."

Jack's smile of the hour was one he didn't like. "This is where I come in. The trick isn't to give them what they want but what they need ."

Crane didn't follow. More cryptic talk from the talker.

"I'm thinking of a person. That lady was very persistent about a bloke named Kyle Crane."

On the spot, Crane froze up. Eyes wide. Then he looked at Jack, hoping he misheard her.

"Wait, what lad-," he stopped himself but couldn't help but let out the next question. "...W-Who's that?"

"Some guy making his name in Harran," Jack explained without much thought. "Rahim would not stop talking about him."

Rahim, you idiot.

"GRE were pretty pissed about him. Rogue operator." Jack didn't spot the growing discomfort in Freakazoid or hear the cough. "A person like that should get them out of their hiding place."

"So…we have to find a ghost?" Crane managed to spit out the very dangerous question.

"We don't need to bring him here," she sang. "But I can spin the info around."

---

"Jack."

Two pairs of eyes glanced at a younger woman running up to the woman in red; word had spread apart in a lukewarm manner. It didn't make it on the surface but the name was enough to jump from one ear to another. Like wildfire.

Kyle Crane.

Nobody had heard of him - a total stranger to the residents and visitors of Scanderoon. The only details they got were his description and that he was a hero from Harran. Caucasian. Thirties. Scar on the right eyebrow.

It was a story someone told. A short one. Dropped in by parachute like an angel answering a group of people's prayers, the Tower. The man could climb unfathomable heights and brace through the darkest nights without any problem. The man knew no fear. He even faced a Volatile and lived.

It sounded outrageous, unrealistic. Then there was the talk about a group of nasty thugs under the leadership of a warlord, Raiz. Nobody had heard of him too but anyone could tell that he was the villain of the story. Held all the Antizins from good civilians - sounding awfully like Alexander.

There was a war happening. Enough was enough; people needed that medicine. So Crane went right to their base, a hornet's nest, to get Antizin.

Then it left with a cliffhanger.

What happened to the Hero of Harran?

The one who told the story just shrugged and said, "Good question". Was it a joke? Although, the short story seemed to bring a bit of spark to the atmosphere, namely runners like Peri. Hence word of mouth went around.

That caught the right kind of attention.

"Siv's got the runner crew together. They'll be out in ten."

"Much appreciate it."

"So this Crane guy, do you think he's here? In Scanderoon?" the younger woman asked out of curiosity.

"Don't know. Man's a mystery. But that would be interesting, wouldn't it?"

"He sounds pretty cool," she started. "Could really use someone like him here."

"Our services a bit lacking?" the brunette chided.

"N-No! You and your friend have been so much help!"

A soft chuckle escaped. "I'm pulling your leg, love. The more help, the merrier."

"Definitely. But Harran already has its own set of problems, huh."

"In times like this, it's always aspiring to listen to legends. We just need to hold out the storm like the folks in Harran."

"Yeah… Then, the thing you asked for. You think you'll be able to find this guy?"

"I might have an idea or two," Jack explained. "I'll keep you posted."

"Sure."

With that, the two women split off - Jack heading towards the storage area.

Out of the crowd, the two onlookers trailed after her. Hoods down and masks up. One staggered behind with a bit of a limp.

She was the biggest target, she started talking about that man like he was her best friend. And GRE had their eyes on her.

Jack was a very good retrieval specialist. She could find the man.

"Good day, Basil," she saluted at the quartermaster on storage duty. To which he replied a soft "Hey." Basil went back to jotting on the pieces of paper, holding his glasses up at the infernal small text.

Anyone could go into the storage area. One way out only and as Basil said, the valuables were behind lock and key.

One of her chasers pulled Nazmi's key out of his pocket.

The sounds of their footsteps bounced about the walls. They didn't pick up the pace but they didn't hide the fact either.

Into one room the brunette went. The two men followed, one shutting the door behind them.

Click.

"Hey," the one pushing against his limp called out, prompting Jack to turn to them. "You can't pull any more shit on us this time."

"We just want to talk," his friend tried to defuse the tension. Try the reasonable approach.

Jack's smile widened a bit as she tilted her head. How cute, they thought she was locked in with them.

They didn't see the pair of silvery-blue eyes in the dark blindspot.

Outside, the room was quiet.

Shadows shifted across under the door's gap as noises and grunts could be heard. Someone had his neck wrung in a chokehold. Someone had his guts punched. There was a loud shriek because of a hard kick to the other battered leg - salt to the wound.

Then silence.

"All clear," Jack's voice.

Peri, a few runners and Basil had been close on standby. Once the order was given, Basil rushed over with a bit of a fiddle on the keys and opened the door.

"Ugh, easy," the injured man begged but Crane didn't loosen his grip on him, both hands tied behind his back.

The other man was on the floor, also with hands tied and Jack's knee on his back. She pulled the mask off, revealing a young Caucasian face, shaved. She padded his pockets down.

"Everyone," Jack sang. In her possession were two IDs brought up, one having tossed from Freakazoid after also a pad-down. "Meet our vermins, James Barrett and Dan Mitchell."

She continued inspecting, feeling for the side pockets. Sure enough, she found Nazmi's stolen keys and tossed them to the quartermaster.

"I can't believe that worked. I couldn't stop shaking," Peri admitted with a nervous tone.

" -Tango-6, " a static voice made the Junction civilians jump as Jack pulled out a walkie-talkie from the man's belt. " What's your status? "

Jack gave a side-glance at Freakazoid. Both of them had the same thought: GRE was dangerous and any contact could have consequences.

But being this far in? GRE wouldn't think twice.

"We'll let your boys go and you leave the Junction alone," Jack replied.

" What- "

She didn't listen. Jack pitched the radio over to Freakazoid, catching it with his free hand.

Crack! He broke its plastic frame with one squeeze. Pieces fell off onto the floor.

Both GRE mercs heard their radio break and immediately, they realized the severity of their situation.

"This doesn't change anything," the tough guy, Barrett, boosted before being given a harder shove from the hooded man. Move , his body language told him.

"How long has GRE been in Scanderoon? I reckon they can't be sticking around birdwatching on a group of people," Jack pointed. She then noted Freakazoid's quietness but didn't take it into account.

"Look! We just want info on Crane," his partner, Mitchell, uttered. As if one more attempt to at least get something out of a losing battle.

"Bastard's not here, is he?"

"Never said he was," Jack sang, making the tough merc boil up. Seeing Freakazoid not saying lip, she continued, "We'll escort you out. After that, you're on your own."

"Did you know he worked for GRE?" Barrett really didn't want to quit. "You've been beating your drum about a damn softie. He's no hero-shit!"

The grip on his hands behind his back suddenly grew tighter. His holder was pissing him off!

But the deed was done. He betted on intrigue and sowed discord in the fields. One by one, faces mired. Peri and the two runners were sold a story of a hero from Harran, only to learn something murky about him.

"And?"

Both men had been looking over their shoulders, aches gradually growing in their necks. The petite brunette just smiled at their bewilderment.

"Doesn't change the fact this bloke doesn't want to be found by you lot."

Right there, they both glanced at each other but fell silent. It was futile to try any sort of negotiation. The discord had been tried and gradually, it faded away, thanks to another hero's intervention - an ex-althete by the name of the Wild Dog who has helped the Junction many times.

So what did it matter the Crane guy might have worked for the enemy? Everyone in the storage area looked at Jack, the enemy who defeated every kickboxer hero in her three-year career.

Now here she was, mocking the two mercenaries.

Barrett opened his mouth in retaliation.

He could do one more last-ditch effort. He still had his pride and he had enough bullshit.

But the sides of Jack's smile stretched just a bit. She had a patient gaze behind her shades throughout the whole incident.

He could try. Say that one name he read from her report.

…Barrett gave up, mumbling as the alternative for his vexation. He stopped resisting being pushed forward and out of the storage area.

"You!"

Everyone turned to the one runner standing by the entrance. Siv had gathered any available runner like Peri said, to help with whatever Jack needed. The backup plan was simply - to lock the storage area up until Jack and Freakazoid were done catching their two rats.

When the two mercs were brought out to the light, Siv had the most shocked face, jamming out her pointer finger.

"You're the two jerks from the other day. When we went to get that airdrop!"

"Wait," Mitchell uttered. "You're that kid!"

"Huh," Jack hummed after taking a good long look at their faces. That explained why one of them seemed so hostile to her. "Small world."

"Is this something I should know," she heard Freakazoid whisper to her.

"I'll tell you later."

Of course, the conversation derailed on its own.

"Siv, do you know them?"

"How could I not! These assholes tried to shoot us!"

"Guess I don't have to tell you," Jack exclaimed softly to Freakazoid.

This was way before he met Jack, wasn't it, Crane wondered to himself.

"First off, you tried to steal GRE property!" Barrett put that as their defense. Which didn't sound criminal to everyone else. Moreover, a grown adult trying to win an argument with someone years younger than him didn't give a good impression. It actually made Basil glare at him with disapproval.

"You're supposed to be helping people. It's in the fucking name. So how about acting like human beings!" Siv snapped at them.

" She held a grenade at us!" Mitchell hollered, wide eyes directed back at the brunette.

"I also recall you were holding two defenseless women at gunpoint. Seems fair," Jack pointed.

Right. Crane was going to pretend he didn't hear anything.

"Now that's all out of your systems, let's show you the way out," she hummed.

"Hey!"

"Ok! Ok. Ack!"

The two GRE thugs were herded out for the whole Junction to see. A few points, a few mutters but no one jumped in to question why their newest members of the Junction had two foreign-looking men tied up and brought to the front gate. Barrett and Mitchell were faces nobody was accustomed to - strangers that were never invited in to begin with.

Izzet and another gatekeeper, Zeki, opened the gates for them without asking questions.

"There's a safe zone near the highway," Jack pointed out - she could have refrained from giving them that advice. "You can bunker down until his sprain's fully healed."

"This isn't over!" the guy with the big mouth kept on spatting.

Mitchell was the first to be booted out, a kick to his butt by Jack and he staggered out of the gap. Barrett, however, was forced around by his capturer. Very easy, in fact, the brunette's quiet partner was like a fortress!

Suddenly, he found himself face to face with the big guy, just a few inches taller than the tallest freelance he knew. He felt his hair stand on ends from the piercing gaze.

Almost like a Volatile was standing right in front of him.

"Try it," a strange, hoarse voice exited out of the hooded man's mouth. It didn't…sound right to Barrett. "And you'll find out how 'this' can be over."

For a split second, Barret thought-

-he was shoved back. Hard. Couldn't brace himself with a push like that. It took him a while to catch a moment to himself, unable to take his eyes off the big guy.

…No. He was imagining things.

"C'mon!" Mitchell helped him up on his feet, ushering him to move. Now. The noises hadn't attracted any Biter yet.

They didn't look back. The two men headed in the direction of the construction site's safe zone.

"You know we'll see them again," Freakazoid pointed.

"Absolutely. And we'll be waiting," Jack welcomed the notion before glancing at Freakazoid, steadfast on the spot. "Told you I have your back."

He cast his gaze down to the ground, feeling tremendously…grateful.

Crane's nerve had been chipped and chiselled bit by bit during the whole confrontation. He might have punched the loudmouth without holding it back. He could feel the guilt mire deeper into that existing cavity in his soul.

The faces on Peri, Basil and the other runners… Rahim would have that expression as well. Jade would punch him. Brecken would shake his head.

But Jack managed to tear everyone's doubts down, even his.

"…So," he started. "Are those stories what they say? About this guy?"

It was horrible to ask, stupid to continue the charade. But this far deep, there was no turning back now.

Until then, he needed to build back up his courage.

"That's what I've been told. I took some liberties, though."

Figures. "That's one heck of a tale."

"Truth's stranger than fiction, right? Rahim just loves to hype things up."

"So what you're saying, we shouldn't take it at face value."

"I don't see a problem," Jack chided. "If this man managed to get a whole organization's knickers in a bunch, then he's doing something right. I might shake his hand."

"Nah. He sounds like an ass," Crane quickly deflected.

"Maybe. But he still counts a point in my book."

---

SIDE QUEST: ROOM SERVICE

---

Orhan's called me in for a job. I haven't seen that lad since he and his brother got jumped by Alexander's men so it's good to see him getting better. His request was harmless-sounding. He wanted us to check in on a man named Frankie staying at Karst Spring Resort... And he's been there even before the outbreak happened. - Jack

---

"What's up, Orhan?"

It had only been days ago that Jack had last seen the young lad. He had been worse for wear after a night outside the Junction. From the looks of things, Siv had taken him off being a runner temporarily and settled down to working as a radioman.

Now, he looked a little better. No more shivering at every sound. There was some color in him too.

However, he did have a worried frown and a crease in the brow.

"Hey, Jack." His face made a 180, beaming at seeing Jack. "Do you have time to check in on someone for us?"

Not the strangest request she has ever gotten. "And who might that be?"

"His name's Frankie. From California. A really good architect," Orhan explained. "He built the Runners' Crossway."

"Runners' Crossway?"

"Do you know about Karst Spring Resort? It's got some bridges and catwalks up there."

"We've passed by a few times, yes."

"That's his work. Best shortcut around town. We're kinda in debt to him for building that."

"I'm assuming you haven't heard from Frankie for a while?"

Orhan's smile faded in an instant. "Since the blackout happened."

"AWOL?"

He then looked surprised. "I hope not. He's never left his hotel room for the longest time. Or the building for that matter."

Jack narrowed her eyes with confusion. Did she hear that right? "Has he been staying there since this outbreak started?"

"Kinda," Orhan replied with a weak shrug. "Can you check on him? It'll take a load off my mind."

"Simple enough."

---

Ring-ring.

Crane heard it, at first thinking it was his imagination. In the middle of their runs between places, he suddenly heard ringing.

It was so far away and yet, his ears picked it up crystal clear. Then it happened again. Ring-ring.

"What's wrong?"

It was obvious Jack couldn't hear it but she noticed that something caught Freakazoid's attention.

He tried to pinpoint the direction, being drawn to the destination they intended to go away: Karst Spring Resort. The tall, fancy-looking building was right in centre of the Bayside's busiest area, adorned with modern and tropical-themed decor— a luxurious five-star establishment with a well-known name brand, situated in another country. With palm trees.

He had heard about its reputation a few times: god-awful pricey and was the main filming location for a zombie movie years ago. So it was ironic to see a replicated scene right before him: dead tourists strolling around the holiday resort's parking lot.

Up in view, both of them could easily see Runners' Crossway. The setup practically stood out like a sore thumb, gutted into one of the open floors high up.

Ring-ring.

He followed the sound to the empty reception. And when he checked that all the phones on the desk weren't ringing, he continued to the back.

Ring-ring.

It was the tail end of room service, with one of the small lights on. A room number next to it. Room 1308.

Ok, this was downright creepy. From what he saw from the outside, the hotel looked abandoned. It had signs that life had gone through it in many ways. Ten floors up, the windows had been broken open for man-made rope bridges to connect between buildings - yellow tape flowing in the wind.

Who would be calling from a room upstairs?

Ring-ring.

Should he pick it up or wait for Jack to do it?

Ring-ring. Again, it rang. Its increasingly irritable presence mocked him that soon, the phone call would end abruptly if it were to be delayed any longer. So, out of habit, he picked it off its receiver.

"Hello?" Crane said softly, not without clearing his throat. God, it had to terrify whoever was on the other end.

"About time."

The voice on the other end didn't sound petrified by his own. An American accent, from the sound of it - a bit of a posh New Yorker. Maybe a tourist who boarded up his room and stayed there since.

"I've been calling for the last five minutes. This place won't run on its own if you slack all day."

"Uh. This place hasn't been running. At all," he explained. "Do you need help? We can take you to the Junction."

"What I need is someone to stop those cadavers from having a pool party. It's ruining the scenery for Ellie!"

What was this caller on about? He should be in a safe zone with whoever this 'Ellie' person was. "Hold on. We're not room service-"

"Oh, you don't say?" the man sarcastically joked. "Well, someone's gotta get rid of them. Kick them out, would ya?"

Crane was about to tell him they didn't have time for this-

"And do something about that cough of yours. You sound horrible."

Then the line ended with the dial tone. Offended and unable to retaliate with the caller gone, Crane cleared his throat again as he put the phone back down.

"Well, excuse me," he muttered softly.

By the door, Jack leaned against the threshold with arms folded. A random call in an abandoned hotel? She was just as curious herself.

But she had a bad feeling about where this was going.

"Looks like our missing person is alive and fine," Jack put two and two together. "Let's report back."

It was a quick turnaround on her heel…until Freakazoid stopped her with one question.

"You sure we should leave him be?"

She wheeled back with a blank face that drilled the question into him - really now?

"So we're doing housekeeping."

"I don't like this either," he muttered.

Somehow, they got roped into another new mess. Jack could have told Freakazoid to ignore the 'guest's' request and they would carry on their way. Too late to turn back but now she wanted to see this through to the end.

To the pool, it was then. Elevators were easily out of the question so they took the most obvious and easiest route up - the Runners' Crossway. Accessible from the next-door building with ziplines.

It was clear that someone had gone through the higher floors with some construction tools, planks and ropes, using the balconies and breaking off the glass from a closed-off restaurant. With careful planning and adding structures like platforms and bridges, it indeed became a brilliant pathway to get over the zombie horde safely.

A jungle gym for runners in retrospect but the ideal path.

At least, it beat taking the emergency stairs.

However, it still held a risk. Thanks to the storm, parts of the crossway had been washed away and unwanted, undead guests managed to wander inside.

The Frankie guy who made the crossway wouldn't be able to make the repairs with these zombies roaming around.

So cleaning up a bit seemed like a good option in the meantime.

Up the duo climbed and down they clobbered any opponent blocking their path. The number thinned down to the outdoor pool.

Which was occupied by two common Biters and something plump and blotty standing way back, under an umbrella.

"Gaarwk!" A shot of phlegm fired out of its grotesque, gaping mouth. Splat at the pool doors as the two fighters ducked to the sides. Heat swayed off the gunk in a green mist, but the acid snot didn't burn through the glass.

A Toad. Crane grimaced at the sight of the fat mutant, gurgling and puking rancid acidic bile at them.

Out of all the mutants he's fought, he hated them the most.

Thankfully, it was two against one. It took a few quick dodges from the vile gunk, a kick to the gut from Jack to send the Toad waddling back to the pool area's edge and a grappling from Crane to push it over with one big throw.

…Splat!

The sound was far away but they certainly could hear it, both recoiling back from the disgusting sight of a frog's body being turned into a soft, wet and pudgy mess on the pavement below.

What an unfortunate way to go, even for a zombie.

"That's taken care of," Freakazoid exclaimed indifferently, brushing the filth off his palms.

Jack glanced up at the rows upon rows of balconies above them - the next twelve floors of the building. At the brightest point of the day, the sunlight bounced tremendously off the windows while heating the tiles beneath their feet.

One of those windows had their mysterious caller admiring the scene.

They certainly would see a woman in red and a tall, large hooded man. But no matter how hard she tried to search for a figure in one of the rooms, the sunlight bouncing tremendously off the windows made it difficult to tell.

The shadows in those rooms were shifting. But that could be another zombie.

"You know…this is a good spot to see everything from up here," Freakazoid pointed.

"That also means it's also a good vantage spot for anyone up there."

A point he never thought of; hence why the call was timed so well. Two people just outside the hotel and a phone call from inside was all it took to lure them in. All because of how eerily sensitive his hearing was.

"Room 1308," Jack said the number. "Let's give our guest a visit."

Nonchalant as always in her tone, whether to a friend, enemy or stranger. She found this strange job entertaining enough to see where this would lead whereas Crane, from previous experiences, had a feeling they would be the ones entertaining the person up in that hotel room.

Not like he could complain. He had plenty of opportunities to turn down requests but opted to accept them anyway, no matter how absurd the demands were.

13th floor, a level above Runners' Crossway.

And Jack froze once she reached there.

Crane joined her, first wondering why the sudden stop and then he too stopped as well. One more step and they could have…walked into whatever was before them.

The area at the stairs and the immovable elevators had been booby-trapped. Heavily.

Spike traps. All shapes and sizes and from the lounge furniture. Barricades with sharp blades and glass that seemed like they were used to make do. Lights fixated by duct tape and sturdy support thanks to a handy nailgun, tied to a generator beyond the protective zone. All with UV to keep the Biters out.

The whole setup could have been done by anyone with the right tools and using anything inside the hotel.

The 13th floor was particularly a man-made fortress.

"This is a little…excessive."

"You think?" Crane rebuked, noticing far off a laundry bin with flies darting from it. Corpses. Lots of them, fell victim to the little maze of traps and put them aside so they wouldn't pile up.

There was an electric fence. Someone put a chain fence up, soldering the sides down to the walls' gold linings and hooked a car battery to it.

Jack frowned, folding her arms. For any dumb zombie, they would jump into the traps and die immediately. For anyone smarter than an infected, it would take a lot of careful maneuvering.

Or an exhausting amount of time to dismantle the first point of protection.

"...So. Wanna try a window?" Freakazoid pointed, to see a brunette turn to him and frown even more.

What window? They'd have to get to one from a balcony. Or several balconies.

Beeeep!

Just like that, the sound of electricity died down along with the beeping sound and the metal gate flung open.

Ominous. And welcoming.

"After you," Jack stated with a wave of her hand to the open entrance.

Crane growled softly.

Beyond that, it was empty of infected. Eerily quiet. She counted the room numbers down as they made their way through the halls.

"Here it is."

Freakazoid found it before she did but she raised an eyebrow. That couldn't be right.

She tried to stop him - a hand immediately lashed onto the reaching claw, which prompted Crane to look back at her intense stare at the number. Then on the spot, he glanced back.

"Nobody's in."

"Bloke switched the room numbers around," she explained, pointing to the evidence up on the walls. 1312 between 1307 and 1309. "Kind of pointless if this was to trick people."

A detail Crane had missed. It was so small, that anyone without a good eye or a superhuman one could simply walk right into the wrong room.

"Unless…they booby-trapped the room," Crane said his train of thought.

And like that, both of them stepped a foot back from the door. Jack neither rebuked the thought nor attempted to test the theory - after seeing the display in the elevator area.

Crane smelled something strong seething from the room. Like paint thinner.

"He must have this room's phone somewhere else," Jack then pointed. "Can't be that far from here."

Following that logic, Crane looked further down the hallway and sure enough, he spotted a faint orange glow. Relaxing on a chair in one of the rooms nearby.

"Or he's in a cozy suite room."

"The expensive kind. Of course."

Neither of them hopped to the room with the plate number, 1320, that quickly. Both drew the same conclusion that their guest didn't like intruders - why else for the number change? Cautiously, Jack took to the left of the door and Crane took the right.

They glanced at each other, eye to eye. Ready.

Jack did the first initiation, a light but loud tap on the door.

"Room service," she jested.

Nothing. Looking back at Freakazoid told her that through his special eyes, the man in the room hadn't budged.

"We've cleaned the pool," she tried, listening for any footstep. Any movement.

Then Freakazoid reacted; something caught his attention behind the door.

The peephole darkened, which Jack waved at with a wide grin. Once the spying eye disappeared, the sound of locks undoing echoed.

The door swung just a little open. The man was just as careful as the two runners. Once he felt assured, he opened it just a little wider to reveal himself.

A slight-hefty man in his early fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and a perpetual suntan, wearing a bathrobe.

Not what they had expected. He had to be a couple of years past his prime. The dirty-blond-haired man had grown a beard, showing that he took it upon himself to have an extended stay.

But he kept a clean image of himself. Smelled of fresh lavender; the essentials stockpiled in his bathroom.

Jack had a peek over his shoulder, to see his bedroom was the fancy, very large, deluxe one. Relatively alright on the amount of mess and the amount of cleanliness together in one room in the middle of an apocalypse.

And the tourist in robes wasn't alone: another person sat by the window bay, watching the grim scenery of Scanderoon. A black and white movie played with the volume high on the TV, rigged to a small generator.

She recalled having seen the movie before. It was a 1940s crime film. A Christmas-special sequel too. How old and nostalgic.

And very out of place in a hotel room in a foreign country.

"Hm," the man in the bathrobe huffed, taking a hard look at his visitors. "A lot smarter than the usual ruffians. They wouldn't notice the room change."

Jack sent a quick gaze at Freakazoid with a faint smile; they were lucky. If Freakazoid had tried to open that door, the outcome would have been terrible for both of them.

"You wouldn't happen to be Frankie?" The man in the robe looked defensive - Jack was right on the money. "The folks from the Junction haven't heard from you in a while now."

He calmed down at the mention of the Junction. "Right. Haven't gotten around to fixing the radio. I'll get on it later."

Very relaxed in this kind of predicament, Jack thought. "Is there a reason why…"

"I'm on vacation, missus. Can't think about work now. I wanna spend as much quality time with my wife as possible."

Both runners glanced at each other with puzzlement. They heard him right, yes?

"Anyhow. The pool looks spick and span, and Ellie couldn't be happier," the American guy continued, almost looking like he wanted them gone.

Yes, the pool was cleaned of infected, but the entire floor was also blood red. But Jack refrained from saying that, trying to understand his inner thinking.

"You do know this hotel has nobody…right?" Freakazoid beat her to the punch.

"And?" The man was straightforward. "I left your reward in the dumbwaiter downstairs."

Frankie waved at the two to come closer before cupping a palm to his mouth to their ears.

"Makes it harder for scavengers to find it. Can't be sharing out goods for anyone who don't earn their keep."

Crane had to admit that was rather a clever idea but also a very roundabout way. Couldn't he just reward them on the spot instead?

"You…" Kyle wearily started. Already, he regretted ever speaking as the tourist guy wheeled back to him. "Don't see what's happening in this city. Right?"

Or that there was a Volatile mutant talking to him.

"Yeah, it's a shame," Frankie uttered with a hint of concern but with the days gone by, his tone came across as if nothing could be done except stay in the comforts of his guest room. "Bulgars and the dead everywhere. End of the world. It's a real-life horror show."

Oh boy, Crane thought. Another screw loose. What didn't make it any better was that with a passing glance at Mad Jack, he could tell she agreed with him on that little detail.

"Just have to wait this out," the tourist continued, baffling Crane. It's been four months - he couldn't possibly hope that help would come.

"Right… Wait it out," Crane muttered under his breath. Better to live in blissful ignorance if it meant being safe and Jack's silence cemented her partner to let the man relish his hotel stay.

Coping mechanism.

Their strange hotel resident turned around but stopped for a moment. "Oh. Hold out your hand."

Before he knew it, Crane found himself doing as he was told. Plopped right into his open, leathery palm was an orange piece of candy.

Cough drops.

"That should help you with that dreadful cough of yours," the tourist pointed with genuine, yet insensitive effort. "Good luck out there."

With that, ignoring the fact that a silver-blue-eyed infected glanced at him with shock, the American man closed the door.

Clutching the candy in his claw, Crane shook his fist and proceeded to give up on arguing before he could start. He knew the guy wouldn't bother to open the door if he heard some pounding.

"Hm," Jack softly laughed, not entirely out of amusement but out of impressiveness. "That was an interesting turn of events."

Crane, however, groaned. He shouldn't have picked up the phone.

"Orhan, we found Frankie and his wife. They're doing fine, I guess," Jack relayed her message over the comms.

"Really? Thank goodness," Orhan breathed a sigh of relief.

"You didn't mention that he's…eccentric."

"Yeah. He said he worked as a software engineer but he has a knack for tinkering things."

"We noticed. Bloke made his whole adobe a giant death trap."

"Wait. He let you come to his room? That's a first."

"Yes. You could have mentioned that to us."

"Then…if it's too much to ask, can you keep an eye out on him every now and then?" Orhan pleaded timidly.

A request the duo didn't think of getting but they listened.

"We've been trying to get them to join the Junction but he's so dead set on staying there. Maybe you can convince him or his wife?"

"Mate looks very comfortable in that deluxe room. He might never leave."

"He can be a little…hysterical. But he's always looking on the bright side of things."

"Sounds like a certain someone," Crane croaked and received a frown from the brunette.

"...We'll keep an eye out."

---

Ring-ring.

Again, that ringing. And the same direction as before. Crane really hated his super hearing but already, it prompted him to look back in the direction of the resort.

Moreover, they were just passing by, with nothing too urgent on their plate right then and there. It had only been three hours since the first call.

"Just ignore it, Freakazoid."

He turned back to notice Jack's blank look and folded arms. She already figured it out with how Freakazoid just suddenly stopped and looked back to the building in question.

"What if he's in danger?" he prompted the question.

"He's gonna make another ridiculous demand. Probably for his lass again," Jack pointed.

Crane pondered: right, the lady he wouldn't stop talking on the phone. He did see her by the window, the sunlight making it hard that it was particularly a silhouette to him.

Ring-ring.

And still, the phone persisted.

"It's your call."

His call.

Why couldn't Jack just say no and convince him to leave?

Crane uttered a low but loud groan, berating himself on why he couldn't just turn away. Slowly, begrudgingly, he made his way back to the hotel reception. Jack followed without so much of a protest.

Ring-ring, the phone taunted Crane. Halfway his arm reached for it but Jack stole it instead before him with a brash grab. Her expression hinted at being slightly impatient and mostly intrigued.

Ring-ring-clank!

"Room service. How may we help you?" she droned with her best manners.

Oh boy, Crane thought to himself. Another grand performance . He folded his arms and watched the show unfold.

"Ah. Yes," the voice coughed with surprise. Because of the star-awarding tone or because he was talking to a woman? "You got a bad leak in the bathroom."

Crane's eyes narrowed so tightly under his hood but as always, he kept his cool. Worrying about a leak in the middle of an outbreak…

"That's unfortunate, sir. However, we're currently dealing with a pandemic. Henceforth, this hotel will be closed," Jack chided. "We'll happily help you and your sweetheart move to the nearest Safe Zone as soon as possible."

She grinned widely back at Freakazoid with a gesture saying, see?

Crane rolled his eyes. Ok. Sure. He could have done that, rather than entertain the guy.

"That's alright. I just need a wrench and some duct tape."

Jack's smile stiffened. Did she hear that right from the bloke? "Excuse me?"

"Ahh, you're already understaffed as it is. I can fix this up myself."

Jack frowned. That didn't go the way she thought would go. "That's not what I mean-"

"Oh, and fresh towels, if you don't mind. Thanks."

And just like that, the call ended. A flabbergasted Jack had no choice but to return the phone to its cradle.

"Easy enough," Crane chided. A simple fetch quest and seeing the brunette fuzzled cracked a smile under his scarf.

"Sure. You get the towels. I'll look for tape."

"No objection there." Jack marched off while Crane wondered where he could find towels… He could try looking for housekeeping inside the hotel.

Out of the items requested, a wrench was easy - found in a toolbox next to the elevator - but the tape proved tricky for the brunette. She went to check some of the luggage around the lobby and decided to take her search elsewhere. Jack managed to find two at a nearby convenience store.

"All this for a bloody leak," she groaned.

However, it was far better than most requests she's done in the past so she might as well count her blessing.

"Hey, you!"

But she thought too soon for a simple task. Jack had expected that she wouldn't be alone in the street - what she didn't anticipate was three hooligans out in broad daylight. The fallen Toad, splattered in the middle, was certainly what drew them to that part of the street and then to the brunette walking out of the hotel.

Scavengers trying to get by the outbreak by hunting weak prey.

"You came from that hotel, didn't you?" one threatened Jack, pointing his weapon at her.

Jack shrugged her shoulders. "Thought there'd be supplies inside."

"You shouldn't be alive," another crook muttered. "Anyone who goes in ends up dead."

"Must be my lucky day."

Her cheering attitude didn't rub easily on the three crooks. They got more riled up, out for blood for some reason.

The third man with a scar across his eye took a step forward. "We've lost some of our crew to those damn traps. And you're telling me you got out scotch-free?"

"I told you. Someone's living up there," one of his comrades exclaimed.

"Yeah. And this lady might know something."

"That's a tall order, gentlemen." Jack slowly backed away, luring the three men forward as they gripped their weapons tighter.

A faint shuffle resounded. All three men turned back to the hotel's entrance to spy that one of the luggage had fallen off a cart. One of the zombies must have knocked it over.

The scar-faced thug noticed the brunette's slight distraction. "Someone else inside?"

Jack grinned her widest.

"Something like that."

Then his whole world turned grey, smothered in the smell of old cloth.

"Gah!"

"What the-!"

The intruder came out of nowhere! Like he materialized out of thin air and looped a moth-bitten luxury towel around the scar-faced thug's neck into a chokehold. The two scavengers panicked, directing their weapons at the hooded man-

"Ugh!" A whack to the face from the surprise attack by the Wild Dog.

Riiip! The fabric, old from time, gave way and the goon was released from his chokehold. He took a quick chance, swinging his machete wild at his assaulter. Quicker than a man trying to catch his breath, Crane backstepped from the blade. And quicker, he gripped the man by the wrist and without hesitation, lifted him in a toss.

"Hey!" he bellowed.

The hooded man hurled the crook right at one of his own teammates. A flying comrade made another thug look away from Jack. In a panic, he decided to bail, only to meet the maddening brunette standing in his way

Jack moved forward, landing a solid kick at the hooligan's midsection. Something cracked inside, the kick knocking the wind out of him and sending him stumbling back onto the tar road.

It didn't take long for the three men to cut their losses. They had bitten off more than they could chew.

"Get up!" One of them helped his fallen comrade and carried him off over the shoulder. They scrambled as far away as they could from the two monsters.

There wasn't any point in giving chase - Jack kept watch on the goons until all three disappeared further down the road. Freakazoid was a bit preoccupied, seeing the towel in his hand torn apart.

"...This is going to be a problem," she pointed with a nonchalant tone.

"Definitely."

Although a bump on the road, they collected the requested items within the hour - minus the towels. Hence, they returned to the thirteenth floor.

"Housekeeping."

This time, Jack knocked on the door - her tempo hard and her expression stern. And like before, Frankie answered the door.

"Here's your duct tape and wrench. No towels."

He shrugged. "That's why this hotel lost a star. The only good thing is the food and the morning sun."

"You're from California, aren't you?" Crane exclaimed.

Frankie smirked wide as he gave a shaka sign. "Totally," he joked proudly.

Jack narrowed her eyes at him, hidden by her shades so of course, he didn't see her annoyance. But she kept her cool. "Those contraptions on this floor. You made them, right?"

"Sure. Had to keep myself entertained."

Entertained. What was he like on a day he wasn't entertained?

"It looks like a Rube Goldberg monster," Crane mumbled, showing a bit of amusement.

"And it's doing a good job keeping vandals out."

"Yeah," Jack started. "Would those vandals include humans?"

"Well, yeah. Gotta protect my loving wife from any harm." Frankie arched forward for another whisper. "I especially made room 1308 to give those crooks a second thought, trying to walk in uninvited."

Neither runner shared his enthusiasm on the little tidbit. It only confirmed their earlier notion.

"You might attract some unwanted attention the longer you stay here."

Frankie shooed that idea off with a shake of his palm. "It'll be fine. I rig these traps to be foolproof. Anyone who thinks they can mess with us, they're in for a nasty surprise."

"And yet, here we are at your doorway," Jack muttered softly to Freakazoid, who nodded back at the irony.

"Look. I appreciate your concern. But I ain't leaving this hotel. Ellie and I came here for a nice vacation and we're gonna spend every waking moment together," he spoke with a stern tone. His final word and the two knew on the spot he wouldn't budge if they tried pushing.

"Alright," Crane started. "But if you need anything-"

Frankie chuckled. "If we need anything, I'll call the line. I'll even make a bat signal for you if things get dicey."

Neither the hooded man nor the brunette shared his enthusiasm.

"Now. I'll handle that leak and any pesty goons coming my way." Frankie gave a confident wink as he swung the wrench in his hand. "You two take care out there."

Jack tried again, "We can still take you to a safe place-"

Nope. Either Frankie didn't hear Jack or he outright refused to listen. He closed the door and that was it from the looney hotel resident.

The two sighed loudly.

Until the next call.

---

Ring-ring.

It was late in the day. Again, the two runners passed by the resort. Partly because it was a good shortcut. Mostly because of keeping an ear out for that one call.

Since the last time they spoke to Frankie, nothing has happened. No wild demands for room service. So was the silence a blessing in disguise?

That was until Freakazoid stopped and perked up to a faraway noise Jack couldn't hear.

"Frankie, again?" The direction he took was certainly to the hotel so she guessed, already steering herself to that said path.

"Yeah," he replied.

"Shall we?"

"Ahead of you-"

Another sound occurred. This time, Jack heard it. It was an odd sound, like a muffled blast. She searched about for the source…

"You heard that, right?"

"Jack."

"Hm?"

"He's got company."

The bells in Jack's head rang loud. Freakazoid immediately bolted on the heels of his feet with her right behind.

True enough, the hotel's entrance was guarded by two sentries - the same scavengers Jack and Crane encountered before. So certainly, more friends came to visit the hotel.

"Hey! Ugh!"

Time was of the essence. Nothing could prepare the two guards; a takedown on one unfortunate human and a deadly roundkick to the head on the second. Both went down fast and without much of a scream.

A third goon had been distracted by the ringing in the lobby. Halfway reaching for the phone before he heard the noise from outside.

"Gah!"

A lasso of tendrils wrapped from his legs, forcing him down to the floor, chin hitting the marble. Screaming in desperation, he begged for the running brunette to help him. But Jack ignored him, grabbing for the phone while the bloke had his neck broken in the background.

Ring-ring-clank!

"Frankie? You there?" Jack hollered.

"Hey. Yeah. You know those vandals we were talking about? They're trying to brute force their way in!"

"Hang tight. We're on our way."

"Like we got a choice!"

"C'mon," Freakazoid uttered. No point of putting the phone back on its receiver. Jack bolted after her partner, and they took the fastest route possible to the thirteenth floor - Runners' Crossway.

Bang! Upon reaching the floor, Crane gave a hard shoulder bash through the emergency door before assessing the situation. No signs of any goons but there was evidence they had gone through the barricade and done the damage. Electricity had been turned off and the automatic door, wide open.

Beyond that point was a blast zone.

The trap in Room 1312 had been sprung by a gullible crook. Something small but with an impact exploded at the door, with a spread of nails. The metal spikes jagged into his body, then into a second one who got caught in the blast, and into the red-soaked carpet.

Thud!

Something loud echoed in the hallways. A door being broken down.

"I was right! Someone was living here!" Crane's intense hearing picked a man shout, a familiar voice that he had heard not too long ago.

"You monster! You killed my brother!"

"You bastards…started this!" Frankie's voice.

"Shit!" Crane uttered and picked up the pace.

The closer to Frankie's deluxe room, the number of orange skeletons lit up. Three in the hall, two inside the room, one of them holding down another, Frankie down on the floor.

"You got someone else here?"

"Don't you dare come near her!"

A strangle commenced. Only around the corner and the duo reached the room before-

BAM!

A man's wail bellowed loudly after the sudden gunshot.

"Fuck! It's those two again!"

"Let's get out of here!"

The atmosphere turned on a dime with both the two strangers before the scavenging gang and whatever happened inside the deluxe room. Rather than continuing what they had as their goal, the thugs scampered down their only way back out. The two, however, cared less about the escapees and more about Frankie's wellbeing.

Jack was the first right into the bedroom. No sign of blood but she found Frankie crouched at the bathroom door, water gushing inside.

"Ellie…! They gunned her down!"

"I'm sorry."

A huff erupted out of the battled man, shrugging Jack's hand off him. His trembling hands curled into shaking fists. Then a warcry exploded out of him. Up he climbed and immediately grabbed the first thing on the way out.

"Bastards!" he cried down the hall. "ALL OF THEM!"

"Hey! Hold it!" Crane hollered.

There was no stopping a man out for blood. He wouldn't listen as he stormed down the hallway.

"Freakazoid."

He was stopped for a second, catching the stern look on Jack's face. Only then did he notice the whole room and for sure, Jack noticed it too.

The small things were out in the open, easy to catch his eye. There was a miserable attempt at a romantic meal by the window side, made with love and rations. Withered rose petals littered the floor and bed.

The room was set up for two people but the presence lacked it.

Jack pointed her eyes to the bathroom. A body.

A plastic one. Crane staggered at the sight of a mannequin wearing a soaked bathrobe, her arm broken from a rude tussle. A wet wig flowed to the drain.

Had he never seen a second person?

"He's gonna get himself killed!" Freakazoid dashed off after the crazed man. It was more than vengeance.

It was blind rage.

A man of Frankie's stature and in a bathrobe could only go so far - they found him at the poolside. Swinging his bat like a wild man.

"Don't ever come back! This is our place, y'hear! Ours! We spent our vacations in this exact resort!"

"Frankie! Stop! They're gone!" Kyle had a split-second thought to pull the weapon out of his hands with his tendrils. Before Frankie could still hurt himself.

"They better be! They got no right to walk in and terrorize good people! It's because of them…they let those zombies in!"

The two runners slowly closed in on the frantic man while keeping an eye out. For any infected drawn to his shouts. Or any accident taken if he were to move too close to the edge.

"So I had to build those traps! I had to protect our vacation home…"

Jack found an opening - reaching for Frankie's bat. Up close, his eyes were bloodshot and unfocused that he didn't register how empty his hands became.

Then he gazed up at Jack. Eye to eye at a woman helped him stay grounded but for a moment.

"I had to…for Ellie's sake."

His eyes watered up. Finally, Frankie slumped down against the poolside's glass railing, tired from all the screaming, the kicking and the swinging.

All the steam had run out.

They gave him his space, let him catch his breath. However, he had one more in him. With a shaking hand, he pulled a wallet out of his pocket and gazed down at the contents.

"It was supposed to be our anniversary…" Frankie spoke, fighting against bated breath. "I've worked my ass off for thirty years and only recently, I could go on a long-deserved vacation. We were both travel enthusiasts… Planned the whole trip and everything."

All of a sudden, he handed his wallet over to Jack. With a bit of hesitation, she took it.

In it were two photographs. One worn down of a happy married couple: a young woman with chestnut hair and soft green eyes as she stood close to her tall, lean husband. And the second, a more recent photo with Frankie's suntanned older look and his wife, wearing glasses and a sunhat.

Thirty years difference from each other, both photos showed the same beautiful spot at the Bayside.

"Ellie… She's always brilliant. Knows how to stay calm for both of us. When all of this happened…we were scared shit but she was always quick-thinking, y'know," Frankie explained.

"We've made this whole floor a fortress by ourselves. Then we saw those kids from the Junction one day. It was her idea to make the crossway for them. I couldn't say no."

His lips trembled.

"Then the blackout happened. And those bastards… I guess they were trying to get out of the storm when it happened."

He choked. Fought every fibre in him to continue.

"Ellie… She… One of those monsters managed to get in and…"

Frankie didn't need to explain. Jack and Crane already could connect the dots.

"I told her I could get her a doctor. But she told me…begged me to end it… Before…"

No more. Frankie didn't have the strength to say anymore. He knew it himself, just as his wife did. The wound was too severe. And he saw it in her eyes on that night.

She didn't want to become a monster, like those monsters in the streets.

"I finally got downtime… I just wanted to spend more time with her…"

The man in the bathrobe curled up into a ball, again fighting himself from crying. Or maybe more so that he had spent all the tears he could muster for his Ellie.

And that was the story - why a man stayed in a hotel longer than he should.

"...Frankie," Jack started with a careful tone. "I think it's time to go to the Junction."

With a deep sigh, he nodded. Then nodded again and with each nod, faster.

"...Yeah… About time I get back to work, huh," he mustered a flat joke. But it was a hit back to reality for himself.

Nobody objected.

---

The Karst Spring Resort was now completely quiet - except for the few stragglers back into the lower levels. Its last resident had finally packed up and left for the Junction the next day.

Jack found him in a better state, standing by Noam's garage. Frankie cleaned himself up good - discarded his bathrobe for a Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts and hiking boots. A "vacation dad" look.

"How's everything going, Frankie?" Jack asked.

With a small smile, he replied. "It's alright. Orhan's been giving me the rounds… Kinda weird to feel this way."

"Takes time. You had a long vacation from society."

"Got everything you need?" Crane pried, his voice a bit softer out of habit to keep his monstrous side hidden.

"I'm good. Everyone's generosity is appreciated. Just…missing Ellie, y'know?"

Jack's smile was faint and patient. But a thought did cross her mind. "Anything we might do for your wife? Proper burial or…"

Frankie laughed. "That's a nice gesture. Since…" He struggled with his words again. "She passed away, I made her a little shrine. 1307 was our original room."

He then added a self-deprecating laugh. "They ran out of deluxe rooms when we booked. But it still had the best view… She always loved looking at the Bayside."

He gave out a deep, loud sigh - an attempt to shake the grim feeling off before it would leech into the Junction's already grim atmosphere.

"She's in a better place. That's all that matters."

"And now you have a new place to stay as well," Jack reminded him.

A pleasant thought that slowly settled in Frankie's mind.

"Hey, Jack!"

Out of the blues, Orhan called out to the brunette - another expecting thing to add to the list of things to do for the retrieval specialist. Jack stepped aside and gave a listening ear to the young man. Something about rounding up a few skilled builders to help with repairing the holes in Runners' Crossway.

"You got a good partner there."

Crane's eyes widened at Frankie's sudden compliment. It took him by surprise!

Whoa. Hold on.

"Wait. We don't…" He sent a side glance at Jack, all too preoccupied to hear any of what Frankie just said. "We just work together," he quickly added the last part.

"Platonic, romantic, work. Does it matter?" Frankie brushed him off. "The fact is you two are in this together."

"I mean," he started defensively. "We're all surviving."

"That's the point. We only got so much time left," Frankie explained softly. "When I proposed to Ellie, I knew she was the one I wanted to spend my moments with. Till death do us part... It's been one big adventure with her."

Maybe, but his situation was very much different from Crane's.

And Jack's case…

"...And what if something happens?"

Frankie shook his head, out of blunt frustration. "Do I need to spell it out for you? Cherish the moments."

Cherish.

Everything Crane had met in Harran seemed so far away in his mind. Again, regret swelled up in him - he never took one minute to appreciate it. To stop for a moment.

To spend one more moment with the people he really cared about.

He didn't have that honor, however.

"You two got me out of my damn runt. Now it's my turn to tell you this. Don't miss out on everything," Frankie said. Maybe he didn't want another man to sink into the same horrible hole as he did after his wife's death.

Maybe it was because he could tell by the eyes. Not the monster with his silver-blue eyes. But the man who lost everything once.

"It'll go by before you know it."

Crane didn't reply but Frankie's words hit him harder than he thought they would. Especially already knowing Frankie's story.

With a slow turn, he glanced at Jack, still listening to Orhan. Never was there a day that she'd ever stop smiling.

Jack has been a formidable foe in bringing him back to the other side and getting him to accept life again. A second time could be a dangerous slope, maybe mindshattering.

All the more reason for him to keep the moments closer this time round.

---

SIDE QUEST: LOST AND FOUND

---

We were moving through the Bayside when I heard a woman crying from City Hall. And it's a parent's worst nightmare. Someone took a kid out in broad daylight. Outside. If we don't find him in the next hour… I don't know... But we've gotta find him at any cost. - Kyle

---

"Someone! Can someone please!"

It was a desperate cry from inside the City Hall's protected courtyard. Loud and clear that both runners would hear it outside the gates as they passed by. However, it was the same treatment as before the guards stopped Jack from walking in, uninvited.

"Move along," the same gunner Jack had met at the City Hall, her first meeting.

"Surely, we can be of service," Jack tried to pitch. "Heart-breaking in there."

The other gunner's face wrinkled - a sign he knew who the screamer was and why. But he wouldn't budge. "Look. We can't let infected people in. Those are the rules."

"You can make this one exception," a new voice spoke up.

The two guards could have kept their stand, even to take it upon themselves to show Jack out. That was until they saw a new stranger standing next to Jack, looking masked and…intimidating.

"We'll be out of your hair in no time," Crane continued.

At first, it seemed like the two men wouldn't budge. But the wails inside chipped a bit into their heartless facades.

"Five minutes," the gunner gave and stepped aside.

Enough time. But it was still stepping into a lion's den. Crane steeled himself and hid his talons in his pockets - hoping nobody picked on any hint.

"We're trying to get a search party together, Naime," a familiar voice spoke up, trying to calm the unrest. "But you have to stay calm-"

"I am staying calm! Berkant. My boy…"

"Illyas," Jack called out.

Illyas, leader of the City Hall, turned around from the crying woman - at first, mild surprise to see someone who was told never to come back to the City Hall. Then with gratitude.

"I didn't think I'll ever see you again…" His voice trailed off as his eyes drifted to the most eye-catching person standing beside Jack. "Um, who-?"

"Her partner," Crane answered, soft but calm. For a moment, he saw Illyas furrow his eyebrows with those drilling eyes into him. Dumbfounded.

"What happened?" Jack then asked.

"It's my son!" the woman, Naime begged, running towards Jack with burning hope that Jack quickly had to catch her from tripping over herself. "Berkant is missing!"

"When was this?"

"I-I don't know…! Please!" again, she pleaded. "He's a good boy! He's never done this before!"

"Alright. Let's go to the side for a minute," Jack suggested. "My partner will go over the details with Illyas. Ok?"

Naime stood still on the spot, her hands trembling and her eyes unfocused. "C'mon. Take a deep breath with me," Jack ushered her away from the men but not without a peek at Freakazoid. Gesturing him to get as much info as they could get.

A missing child. The worst kind of situation to have in the middle of a zombie outbreak. However, the urgency didn't quite shake the City Hall. Most people he saw were passive and detached.

Because the child was as good as dead? Or because nobody wanted to leave the safe zone?

"Um," Illyas started, uncertain. Well, Crane did have all the readings of a suspicious stranger.

"Did anyone see him get taken away?" Crane went right to the point.

"No. Naime's son is always the quiet type."

"What about visitors?"

"...We had two refugees come by for supplies." He paused. "One of them did cause a racket. But nothing out of the ordinary."

And? Those two were possible suspects on his list.

"Then there's also Alexander's men loitering around."

"But you don't think it could be them." Crane grimaced. With how airtight the City Hall was, those convicts would be walking in like giant fireflies to everyone. "Could the kid have walked out of here?"

"If he did, we would have stopped him."

Illyas shook his head, really struggling as to how they could have lost a child in broad daylight. On anyone's watch.

"I don't understand how this could have happened."

"You're taking a lot longer than you should making a search party."

Illyas grumbled but shared his frustration. "I'm gathering anyone able… But everyone's too damn afraid because of that Firebrand nonsense."

Meaning not enough men brave enough to leave for a rescue, let alone risk getting bitten. Even Illyas, as much as he tried not to show it.

"It's a child," Crane protested. A bit of anger slipped but he stopped himself. "That mother just wants to see her son alive."

The man in charge fell silent. That was why his expression came across as…pleading as well. Crane could see how weathered Illyas has become, even before the city's quarantine - being resilient with governmental duties on good and bad days.

"I can only try. But you and Jack, can you find him?"

Because both of them were outside the system. Free from rules. Braver than the toughest men inside City Hall.

"We'll do what we can," was as honest of an answer as Crane could give - Illyas acknowledged it bitterly.

"Partner." Just like that, the tension dropped once Jack entered the picture. No nickname uttered this time - if she were to say that, Illyas would surely figure it out.

She pointed to the exit. They had all the information they could get. With a nod and time ticking, both runners took their leave.

"10-year-old. Short, dark brown hair and brown eyes," Jack went down the list. "Wears a red hoodie, blue jeans and sneakers. Lad's generally friendly but knows enough not to approach strangers."

"City Hall had some visitors today. Two refugees and our usual thug problem," Crane relayed his intel.

"Let me guess. They couldn't have sneaked out a kid," Jack pointed. "Some folks are going off about that Firebrand group doing the abduction."

"Same deals with the search party." Crane grimaced. "Not much we can go on."

"No. But Berkant has only been missing for fifteen minutes. If they went out on foot, they couldn't have gone far."

"So a four-block radius."

The two split. Freakazoid headed east. Jack went west. Divide and conquer.

---

"I found something."

It was the most obvious thing to find in daylight, painted on the wall of a warehouse, next door to a transportation hub. One would be a blind fool for missing it.

The moment Jack said that, Crane did a 180 and nearly swooshed towards her direction. Around the block, he found her squatting by that said wall, eyes on the painted symbol.

When he spotted that symbol, he nearly froze.

"Is that…?"

"Firebrand's signature." Crane almost tried to correct her. But even he stopped himself. "And fresh too," Jack explained, having run her fingers across the paint.

He remembered from behind that there were places marked with a sun symbol. However, unlike the symbol he clearly remembered from the countryside, the one he saw was a lazy, straightforward drawing. Just a sloppy circle and short lines.

Crane relaxed. For only a second.

Then he heard a noise.

A Freakazoid suddenly on alert was enough for Jack to ready herself. His darting eyes told her he could see the humans past the wall.

Someone was inside the warehouse. Dangerous.

No mention of a child. No sign of a child either but they had to look into it.

Luckily, the warehouse's roof had holes for anyone to slip into the catwalks.

Inside the storage facility that stunk of old cardboard, they could see the familiar orange prisoner suit. A group of five men guarded the boxes, crates and various supplies. Some paced around, bored out of their skulls.

"What's taking so long?" one thug complained. No answer. A simple guard duty.

Too bad it would prove difficult with the two runners hiding above them.

"Any sign of the kid?" Jack whispered.

Crane examined everything and everywhere inside the warehouse as far as his eyes could see. "...No. He's not here."

"A dead end. No point in wasting our energy on them-"

Right in front of her eyes, Freakazoid disappeared. Dropped down into the warehouse and the usual surprised shouts of armed men followed.

"Of course, you would," Jack said with a sigh.

And down, she fell. Right on top of one goon who held his concealed pistol at Freakazoid. She latched a hand on his shaved head and with gravity helping, pushed his face down to the ground. Nose battered.

Jack held him down with a knee to his back. Freakazoid had already knocked one prisoner out and held a second thug by the neck as a hostage.

"Nobody needs to get hurt. We're looking for a missing kid," Jack explained in the nicest way possible.

"What kid?! We know nothing!"

Jack shook her head, still grinning. Was that a hint of panic she heard in his voice?

"You came by the City Hall, didn't you?" Freakazoid's tone came out rather threatening.

"W-We did!" the hostage he held quickly answered. "We were monitoring them."

"Really?" Jack hummed. "Then you should have seen someone walk out of City Hall with a child."

"S-Shit… Alright, we did," Jack's hostage spilled the beans. "Saw them head to the nearest mall."

"And you didn't think to stop them?" Freakazoid barked, his patience tested.

"It's none of our business. All we're supposed to do is keep this area clear of zombies and nosy people. That's all."

Jack furrowed her eyes at that statement. It irked her for some reason.

"Look. If you wanna play the hero, you go rescue the kid," one of the standing thugs hissed. "We told you where they went."

"How?" Jack suddenly asked. This time, she grabbed her captive by the chin and pulled him closer to her face.

"Ack! P-Pardon?"

"How are you supposed to keep people out? Shoot them on sight?"

"Fuck no," the other yelled. "You want us to draw those Virals to us? We just spook anyone with that ghost story."

That caught Crane's attention, understanding now the reason behind such an obscure question.

"So those sun symbols all over the Industrial District?"

"We painted those," the thug uttered with a hint of pride over such a childish act. "That's enough to scare them out of their pants."

"So you get a kick out of it," Crane muttered.

"Say what you want. But that's what the higher-ups told us to do, ok?" So they were scrubs, the bottom of Alexander's food chain, Jack thought to herself. "It's not like we have a choice."

"No," Crane rebuked back. "Doesn't change the fact you're terrorizing people trying to survive out here."

"Fine, call us heartless," one spat. "Now get out before we give you trouble!"

A weak threat. The five men would have already tried to take Jack and Freakazoid's lives from the start. The prison life had steeled them but it hadn't prepared them for the life of a survivor.

They would rather have a peaceful guard duty than escalate a problem any further than they needed to.

The duo exchanged a glance of acknowledgement. The first thing was letting go of their two hostages - Jack off hers and Crane shoved his away. They kept the distance between the groups far apart, eyes on each other.

The prisoners could try. Instead, one carefully went to the front door and unlocked the small padlock from inside.

It started with a small and slow gap for the metal sliding, to make sure there were no nearby Biters. Then the thug lifted the entrance wide open with one haul and backed away.

Crane took the lead out with a side glance back to spy any funny business before he reached the metal sliding on the other side. Jack, confident, walked backwards and out with her gaze completely fixed on the gang.

"Gentlemen," she started, giving a salute to them. "You have a good day."

And down, the metal sliding went with a hard push. Crane shut the goons in - no chance for them to do a surprise attack even if they tried.

"Let's hope Berkant's alive." It sounded unreasonable and unrealistic, but Crane had to hope.

"Ahead of you, mate," Jack sprang to her feet without hesitating, but her tone sounded a tiny off to him. She had something on her mind but put it down as low priority, just enough that it wasn't irrelevant to her.

"What's wrong?" he prodded the question as he followed after her up to the rooftops - faster that way to the mall.

"Those rumors. I'm not one to believe in ghosts but…this whole 'Fireband' business doesn't sit right with me. Frankly, I don't see Alexander as the type to care about gossip."

"Your point?"

"Is there a need to use a ghost story for keeping folks out of their territory?" Jack asked. "His men can just stand out. Be all menacing-looking."

That was a good point.

"Unless they're trying to hide the fact they're involved."

"Exactly," she agreed. "Which begs the question. Who started the whole 'Firebrand' rumor?"

A question that they wouldn't get the answer. Maybe never. Maybe one day in the future.

But not now.

---

They rushed over to the closest mall in sight. Like any building of commerce and consumerism, it was gutted out and ravaged. Eroded by the weather, overgrown ivy and the walkers.

There was evidence of first peace, then chaos, then temporary peace and finally abandonment. The glass windows were shattered and some of the boards had been ripped off weeks ago.

The idea of a child in such a place was horrifying. The idea of him alive was despairing.

"I see him."

And hope came in the form of a small orange skeleton a floor above. Hop, hop he went, climbing on some structures without a care in the world.

Crane held back his relief. He was the first to bolt up the escalator like the bloodhound he was. What he led Jack to was a children's playground fenced up with nets and colored half-walls in the centre of the mall. And the closer they went, the louder they heard the humming of a children's song.

Sure enough, a ten-year-old with dark brown hair and brown eyes. Wearing a red hoodie, blue jeans and sneakers.

It was like Berkant had forgotten there was a zombie pandemic. Or he had been too sheltered from the horrors. He had gotten up to slides, playing with a teddy bear.

The two runners scanned their surroundings as they darted to the playground. No biters, which was good…

In fact, besides the three of them, the mall was as empty as a ghost town. Maybe all too good.

"Berkant?" Jack called out.

The boy in the playground jumped up, scared. Two strangers he had never seen before and he immediately backed away.

"Wait, hon. We're not going to hurt you." She hurried around the playground's protective fence, trying to catch his attention and focus on her. "Your mother sent us to find you."

That seemed to settle Berkant down but he crawled further into a dark corner of the top level, hugging his bear companion tight. When neither adult jumped in, his guard relaxed by an inch.

"...I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

Jack warmed a smile at the boy, leaning over the half-wall in the best 'I'm not hostile' mannerism. "That's brilliant advice there. But you know you shouldn't be out here alone."

Berkant clammed up. He knew very well that was a no-go. He kinda understood why - Jack could see it on his face.

"Mind telling us how you got here?"

Nothing. He averted his eyes away, refusing to explain.

"C'mon, kid," Crane tried. "Your mom's worried sick about you."

All of a sudden, Berkant's eyes lit up the moment he turned to the other adult. He bounced towards Crane with unusual enthusiasm in his steps.

"Your hands," he uttered.

It hadn't dawned on Crane when he wrapped his hands on some bars that were part of the playground's barrier. And quickly, the boy's attention on the razor-sharp claws made him retract them back. Did he frighten him?

"Oh… These…? It's a long story-"

"You're like him."

Not the kind of response he or Jack expected. And with excitement. "I…don't know what you mean."

"My mom said everyone got sick." And suddenly, Berkant became chatty. To a hooded, talking monster instead of a friendly-looking woman. "That's why we're not supposed to go near them. They can hurt you without knowing it."

"She's not wrong."

"But he told me everyone can stop feeling sick."

"H-Hang on. He who?" Crane asked.

"Mahzun. He's a good guy. Lets me watch TV and read his comics with him," Berkant boosted.

Again not getting to the point with an innocent outlook, which made both adults grow uneasy.

"He also tells me stories."

"What kind of stories?" Jack asked after exchanging a look with her partner. Her interest perked but with growing unease.

Berkant shrugged. "I dunno. Just stories from his friends. Like one about a mother. She's Mahzun's and everyone's mother. Just like my mom! And she wanted to save everyone from this sickness."

"...R-Really?" Crane didn't like where this was going.

"But something bad happened," Berkant explained in a sad tone. "He said they let in an outsider and then the outsider hurt them without knowing."

…Crane suddenly felt cold.

"So he and his friends are trying to save everyone for their mother."

"Really?" Jack's tone shifted with a hint of concern.

"Yeah. I'm not sick yet," Berkant pointed. "But he said it's only a matter of time. The nice people and Mom will come looking for me and he can take us to his friends for help."

Eye to eye, the two adults glanced at each other with grim looks.

It sounded so innocent out of the kid. Scratchy and yet planned by someone who told him that. Have a search party go look for a missing child? And the whole shift in tone behind the intention…

Was that why the whole mall felt…empty of Virals and Biters?

"We need to go."

Words right out of Jack's mouth, it was odd to see Freakazoid shaken but she wasn't going to reject a good idea.

Berkant, however, showed resistance by hugging his companion and scrambling deep into the playground.

"Why? We can't leave Mahzun."

"Berkant, I need you to understand. He's not the same person you remember anymore."

The boy frowned as he backed away from him, offended. "You're wrong…! He's not sick anymore. He says he's never been better."

Now that was a lie, even Berkant didn't seem convinced by his own words.

"People can say they're not sick when they still are," Crane tried to reason with the boy.

That seemed to chisel into the boy's defiance. He had to have known, had seen the little hints in the 'person' who brought him to the playground.

"But…he said they can help. He said he's doing the right thing for everyone. So me and Mom can go back home."

He gazed at Crane with terrifying awe. It grew on the spot like he had been proven something Kyle couldn't see, and from the hooded adult himself.

"You got better just like him. So there is a cure. It'll be alright!."

Crane didn't like any of it. What fantasy was Berkant sold on and now trying to convince both him and Jack? It was all a bunch of nonsense!

But he couldn't shout at a child who didn't know better.

"Mother, blessed by the sun, we praise you!"

Berkant cheered with the happiest jump ever, holding his teddy bear high up. Arms stretched up, along with Mr Freddie's arms too, to the sun in the darkest corners of the abandoned mall.

"He told me anytime I feel scared, I should say that out loud."

The wholesome cheer spooked the hooded man to step away from the happy-go child.

This was a sick joke, right?

"Mate." His furrow must have been a dead giveaway. It caught Jack's attention and it also made Berkant a little scared again. "You alright?"

"..."

"Raargh!" A holler of a beast erupted in the mall but a 'man' walked out from a fast food joint.

From first impressions, he looked like a human in inconspicuous civilian clothing; wearing tattered cargo pants and a long-sleeved jacket. Plus, he also adorned rags over his head - to anyone, they would have thought it was to shield his sensitive skin from the hot Scanderoon sun.

Both runners knew - Crane's attire had the same purpose as his. It blurred the line between beast and human.

In the dark mall, the pair of glowing orange eyes illuminated brighter under the hood. Right off the bat, Jack could spy the occasional erratic and unnatural twitches underneath. Ribbons of red and yellow strapped around the wrists and ankles - like the Weeping Man's.

He was an it , an infected in disguise. But it behaved differently: it didn't pounce after the runners on impulse like Biters and Virals. It walked , egging on them to back off.

In its right hand, it wielded a sharp blade. Curved and crooked.

The newcomer was angry at them. Especially Crane. One predator against a predator? It was a fight over personal space. He wanted no part.

"Berkant, stay in the playground," Jack warned as she skipped quickly around to the playground's fenced boundary, eyes on the monster and her back to the entrance.

This time, the young little boy lost his flame. Seeing the snarling 'human' spooked him to go curled up in the back, Mr Freddie as his protector from the zombies.

He had to have known, Crane thought. The kid's eyes shone with some frail sense of hope, looking both heartbroken and scared.

Maybe it was possible. He didn't like that idea but defusing a dangerous situation like so without needing a fight sounded practical.

So he had to try.

"Hey," Freakazoid took a step forward. Then another few when Berkant's friend didn't budge. "You understand me, right?"

Nothing but hisses and trembles. Crane narrowed the gap between him and the unstable monster. Could he reason him like he tried with Ercan?

"You don't have to do this. Just let the kid go-"

"Get away!"

Another snarl, angrier this time. With words. The cloaked infected suddenly took a pounce like a tiger off its rock. Then Crane saw the shimmer of the blade swing towards him.

"Whoa!" Kyle sidestepped back. And again from another swing, this time, the blade hitting the floor.

The moves were irrational, beast-like. Either a claw came for his face or the blade.

Because of that, it hid the kick to his gut.

"Omph!"

Crane went flying into a dining area with the chairs cushioning his crush.

Alright. Fight, it is, he thought. Climbed back up on his feet and tossed one of the chairs right at his foe.

It didn't slow him down. He batted it down and darted right back at him, just as furious as a Volatile. But what made this particular fight difficult was the frenzy. A zombie became more skilled in slashing and tearing with a dangerous weapon - unimaginable.

Crane had to disarm the sickle if he wanted to take him down without turning into cold cuts.

"Hey!" Mad Jack barked, catching Mahzun's attention.

A bad move on any human's part. She stiffened at the sight of his piercing eyes snap onto her like a predator. But she shook her fear off at a sight behind Mahzun.

"Gah!" A grapple around Mahzun's neck. Crane could feel the rivaled strength of a new mutant in his grasp - fighting every fibre to free himself from his mutated opponent.

And that was the thing. If a random guy infected and with a similar mutation like Crane's could toss him away like a rugby player, then Mahzun could level the playing field. It took quick thinking in Crane, and his primal instinct, to stop the swinging sickle from coming his way.

Then the sickle was gone out of Mahzun's hand at a swing of a different weapon. Blunt - Jack took the opportunity to disarm him with a sneak attack.

Crack! The bones snapped.

Another painful howl. This time, adrenaline kicked in and Mahzun went all out.

"Shit!"

Crane found himself suddenly flying - pulled over the shoulder and hauled at Jack. The ex-kickboxer sidestepped, watching him slide across the floor with a loud thud and shrieking from the floor. He dug his claws into ceramic in a desperate attempt to slow himself down.

"Gack!" It was only a side glance back and out of the blues, claws lashed onto Jack by the neck and tightened it. Up in the air, her feet dangling, kicking, her desperately freeing herself to no avail.

Punching at the battered arm was impossible. It was as thick as a brick. Did it heal or some shit? In Jack's struggle, she managed to tear his facade right off with a hard punch to the face.

Under those rags was his ugly face but it was ten times different from Freakazoid's. Now she understood why the folks at City Hall didn't get a hint.

The symptoms on Mahzun's face were early stages. Close to being a Viral but without the bleeding eyes. A human gone feral.

He then smiled.

The bells in Jack's head rang louder. She might have gotten used to Freakazoid, from his mannerisms to his subtleness and yet, watching another infected express emotion put Freakazoid in a different light now.

An infected, any infected she'd seen had never cracked a smile the way Mahzun did. Twisted - happy that he caught prey?

Or a thought far worse than Jack realized from a thinking zombie?

She didn't want to know.

"Jack!"

Crane took a starting charge, only to be stopped when Mahzun had other plans. The kidnapper wheeled Jack around and showed his opponent not to take another step - an infected with some mental function to hold her as a hostage.

"I won't let you take him away!" The creepy tone Crane had always struggled with came out of Mahzun as well, in broken pants. A vibration hung about but with an invasive vibe.

An infected monster that could think was already bad enough. Crane made one, Ercan was two and now the Mahzun made three.

As dangerous as an insane man.

He had to save Jack. He knew himself how super sharp those talons were, tight around her neck that if anyone were to slip, her jugular would be sliced. No, her lower jaw could be ripped off.

"He needs salvation! We all need salvation from the plague!"

"Mahzun!"

The cry of a child alerted Mahzun with a look of worry. Confusion. Ready to jump like something was going to take the only person he cared about away in the whole, empty world.

"Gaaarh!" he screamed at the sudden pain.

Jack was the culprit. Biting hard on his arm right when he got distracted. With her teeth, she ripped the flesh off in a big, meaty chunk before spitting it out and jumping away right beside Freakazoid.

"Stop! You're hurting him!" Berkant hollered at his injured friend.

"Lad." Jack jumped immediately, stopping a young boy who had run out of the playground and towards Mazhun. Crane stood in front of them as their shield.

On his knees, Mazhun huddled down while holding his bleeding arm. His face gave a series of expressions: from primal rage where for a moment, the animal came back out again, to desperation.

"This world is rotting without our Sun… We're beyond the Gates of Death."

Mahzun's eyes were unfocused, zooming between the runners and the kid. Then he glanced at Freakazoid, a bit too long for Crane's liking for some reason. With narrowed eyes. As if trying to recall a face.

Anger seethed across his face again. Wrinkles tangled together with black veins.

"Urk!" Mahzun hunched down in a round ball, grasping his throat. Choking, coughing something vile.

"Mahzun… Mahzun!" Berkant leapt but the brunette adult wouldn't let him go. He turned to her, pleading. "Something's wrong with him."

Jack remained unmoved, eyes hawked on the coughing 'human'. The poison has started its works, longer from a given bite than a received bite. Now it was all about waiting for the results.

But the results didn't come out how she anticipated. In fact, the coughing irritated Mahzun more.

"What did you do?" he demanded and climbed back up.

She grimaced, dreading the idea that she had made a situation ten times worse. Freakazoid's regained sanity was to her, a fluke so the notion other infected could gain their minds? A fool's dream.

Well, nothing they could do now. The gamble was made and tossed.

And true to her anticipation, the gaping feral huddled with a swirling mix of rage and panic in one go. Like a ticking bomb ready to go. Mahzun was fighting on the spot - he had been fine and dandy, powerful than he used to be but now, hit with a nauseating intensity.

"I need to get him to them!"

Even in his delirium, his feverish goal was plastered on his mind. He had to take Berkant away from the dangerous people.

"The Brotherhood is our cure!"

Enough of the noises!

The bomb went off.

A snarl escaped out of Mahzun, as if declaring that he would not back down! Not from the strange wave of sickness inside or the two annoying attackers. Before, the beast inside told him to stay cautious around the big one - that was an agile hunter.

But rational thinking and the whispers could do nothing to stop impulsive choices. Mahzun swooped in.

"Mahzun! STOP!" the big hunter hollered. Pleading. It actually sounded familiar. Not in a way that he had met the person. But that he had heard him. Once.

The hunter grabbed Mahzun in a hold. Every strength into stopping a mad, sick man from reaching the red woman and Berkant.

"Demons! Witches! I'll rid you all! That's how it's supposed to be!"

He shoved with a clumsy grapple but it was enough to lift his rival off his feet, a few inches off the floor.

"Urgh!" the red witch hollered. Two bodies collided together. In the tumble, she had pushed the smaller orange skeleton away from being taken with them.

It then scrambled back to the playground - its hidey hole away from the predator.

Mahzun could feel the fatigue and sweat down his hairless brow. The adrenaline running out. But he pressed after the tiny prey - it could suffice in giving him sustenance. Then he could get Berkant to safety.

The tiny orange skeleton huddled at the slide, as if ready to jump down at any moment. But it'd be impossible to escape from him. He could see the pounding heartbeat. Enticing him to grab it and rip it apart-

"...M-Mahzun!"

Mahzun blinked. Who called him?

It was a soft whimper but also loud with resolve. The cry was in front of him. Now that his vision wasn't all orange and distorted, it was a little more clear. Curled up in the playground was a small human boy, looking at him with horrified wet eyes.

"I want to see Mom," Berkant begged.

Mahzun staggered back. Stunned. Confused as to why Berkant was crying. Did those two hurt them?

A kid shouldn't be outside with all these dangers. And Naime must be worried sick.

He should take Berkant home. Not to his brother -

"You heard him!"

Whack!

It was a piece of debris, part of a disintegrating shopping cart. It swung right at his head with a flash of red. The witch was back on her feet, positioning herself between him and the playground.

"Let him go back to his mother!" she demanded like an angry pitbull.

He tried to stop the spinning. From one surprise after another, arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him back.

"Mahzun! We don't want trouble!" The familiar voice of a man, distorted, muttered in his ear as he tried to escape. Trying to reason with him.

Further and further, he was being dragged from the playground. No, he had to get Berkant to safety!

"Berkant has told us that you're trying to do the right thing!" Crane shouted. "So prove us that you are a good guy! We can take Berkant home together!"

Let go of me!

Somehow in the scuttle, he managed to break free but he was too disoriented to know where was up, down, left or right. Thankfully, a railing stopped his fall.

But he heard it creak loudly.

The railing snapped and he felt himself go down. Backwards. The beast inside told him to grab something. Save himself! He was too confused in that split second at seeing the hooded hunter come rushing over to him.

The scarf came down. The face might look unrecognizable but he somehow remembered.

It was a glimpse he had seen, back at the farm. He minded his own business while helping the locals deal with the zombie problem. But it wasn't hard to catch wind of the outsider doing heroic stuff.

It was admirable, like those in his comics and cartoons. He couldn't disregard it with everything happening.

And here was the outsider, far away from the Countryside, trying to save him.

"Sorry-" he tried to speak.

Then Mahzun was gone.

Thud!

Crane wasn't fast enough, despite being more than human. He hurried over to the railing. A part of him hoped.

"Stay there, Berkant."

Freakazoid's quietness, however, confirmed to Jack that Mahzun was as good as dead. Downstairs, into the basement floor, was the mall's once spectacular fountain, dried up. His skull cracked on the stone edge.

Mahzun didn't move. No expanding and contracting of his grotesque ribcage or his amber eyes blinking. His last breath had already left on impact.

Both runners panted heavily from above - it took both of them to take down a formidable foe on the same level as one of them, Freakazoid. And for a moment, Jack caught sight of his soft side again. He stared down at the corpse for an awful long time after such an intense battle.

She wheeled back to the playground without a word, which snapped Crane out of his contemplation and he followed after her, scarf back up. The threat was over.

"Berkant," Jack called as she kneeled at the entrance. "You can come out."

At first, the young boy hesitated at the edge of the slide. Then his face grew with worry. Berkant slid down the slide and worked his way through the small ball pit. He didn't look at Jack or Crane - he was searching for someone with desperation.

"Where's Mahzun?"

Again, he pushed. Still hoping.

"Kid," Crane started. "...He's not coming back."

Berkant furrowed his eyes. He was hurt. Modified. However, he didn't riot at Crane like before. He fell far too quiet that the runner was afraid that he pushed too far.

"...Mahzun was still sick," Berkant said suddenly.

Crane swallowed. No one, not even a kid, wanted to be told they were wrong. He knew that all too well.

"He's been sick for a very long time," he exasperated.

Berkant slowly digested his words. Was he comparing him to his friend? Why did he live while his friend died?

But nothing bawled out. He took it rather accepting for a child - maybe because this sort of thing has happened often over the months. Crane wasn't sure to call that courage or…to be a little concerned.

How Berkant handled his feelings, he didn't turn away from the fact. His friend had never come back the same as he was before.

"C'mon," Jack said softly and reached a hand through the playground's entrance. "Let's take you back to your mother."

With a timid grasp, Berkant took Jack's hand and let her pick him up. A warm, safe embrace for a child as she climbed up onto her feet and walked away with Freakazoid.

He peeked over Jack's shoulder – at the direction where Mahzun went.

"Goodbye, Mahzun…" Berkant hugged Mr. Freddie tight and rested his head down.

It was finally over-

Kyle wheeled so fast on his feet. He searched around but there was nothing. Mahzun didn't raise back up on his feet.

He felt it - whatever hair he had left on the back of his neck standing. The other side of him also warned him, that it wasn't his imagination.

Someone had been behind them. Watching them from the shadows.

Clutched his fists tight, he watched over his shoulder - every now and then a side-eye as he walked on.

He didn't stop looking away until he left the mall.

---

The City Hall had grown silent after the two runners volunteered in the search. Some yellow-bellied suits thought a pair of infected people could handle it, only to retreat back inside the building from Illyas' disapproval glare and Naime's whimpers.

And just when Illyas managed to get a fifth guy on board and sent out the search party barely a few blocks out-

"Berkant… Berkant!"

Naime nearly tripped on her own feet but Ilyas caught the poor woman in time and helped her up. She barely registered her fall and the help. All that mattered was getting her son.

"Mom!" Jack put the boy down and watched Berkant reunite with his mother. Both of them wrapped their arms around each other so tightly, the outbreak couldn't pry them apart.

Naime quickly unhinged herself out of the hug and grabbed Berkant by the shoulders. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair in a mess from her constant pulling.

"Why would you do that?!" she howled, shocking the young boy.

It had been the first time Berkant had seen her look so disheveled. It might even have been the first he had seen her…give such a heartbreaking face. He shrunk back, afraid. His mind wandered - what did he do wrong?

"You know better…!" she choked on her tears. "You know not to leave with strangers."

Berkant's eyebrows furrowed. Partly confused.

"But…it was Mahzun." He held Mr. Freddie up to her. "See? He brought Mr Freddie back."

"What-?" His mother didn't understand but the name was familiar to her. She struggled to make sense of it all. "Berkant, we haven't talked to Mahzun for months."

Berkant said nothing back. As if thinking. Eventually, he gave a light nod of acknowledgement.

"Just promise me never to do that again… Ok?"

"...Ok."

She gave one more hug and this time, the boy sunk deep in her embrace. Truly feeling safe and at home.

Illyas' shoulders had probably been tense for a long time but he relaxed them.

"We appreciate you bringing him back," he said in Naime's stead. In everyone's stead. "I mean it."

"Just keep a close eye on them and we can call it even," Crane said, to which Illyas agreed.

"He's not the only good news," Jack chided. "The Firebrand rumors are just that - rumors. Just a bluff from Alexander's goons."

That name rang a core in Illyas that anger nearly gave away in his stern mannerisms. But he gave up on the spot with a deep sigh. His expression was just tired but pragmatic. "To think a bunch of criminals got an entire building of suits thinking there's ghosts with zombies…"

"You've been living in fear because of this outbreak."

"Yeah. And that fear has to go. We can't keep living like this with only hope."

"We don't need to tell you to avoid those marked places. But everyone here doesn't need to be afraid anymore," Crane said.

For good news, it wasn't meant to sour the mood as he watched the leader's face twist. But Illyas took their word for it, calming himself down with a flare of his nostril. It helped lift a shred of burden off his shoulders.

"I'll let everyone know. Tell them to give those bastards back a scare if they try this again… Maybe we can lighten up some of those rules."

"Whatever helps your community," Jack added.

Naime approached the two runners, exchanging spots with Illyas with Brekant waiting quietly at his mother's side. Illyas let the two heroes get their well-deserved gratitude with a step back from the conversation.

"Both of you… Thank you," she began, still both shaking but grateful. She latched onto Jack's hands and held them in hers. "...There really are good souls."

"Your son is a brave lad. Stayed calm and even gave a morale boost."

Jack gently freed herself in the nicest way possible but not with a shake of reassurance. Again, as small as they were, her mannerisms couldn't be hidden from Crane.

She smiled as brightly as always. But the thanks? She always deterred the gratitude from her and gave it away. To Freakazoid, 'the hero' or to the person they've helped.

Never herself. Jack even took a step back, an extra measurement.

Naime gave a soft sigh, partly just relieved. "He always loves those superhero shows. His uncle got him into them… They can talk your ears off for hours and forget what time it is."

"Your son talked a lot about this person," she changed the conversation. "Mahzun."

"Yes. My cousin." A softer smile cracked on the woman's tired face. "His family are at the Countryside in Harran. We were supposed to visit them in the summer…"

A deep sigh escaped her. Naime glanced back at her son, almost as if worried she had given away something.

She then lowered her voice. "It's been months since I've heard anything from them but… But Mahzun's smart enough to get them out if he just forgets about that group."

"Group?"

Naime struggled. Certainly, a stranger didn't need to hear about pointless family matters. "Just some customs he and the farmers used to do in the Countryside."

"Berkant, where did you get that toy?"

All three adults turned back to Illyas. He certainly felt like an outsider of the conversation and stepped away but stopped to keep Berkant some company, another outsider himself.

That was until he noticed the teddy bear.

"Mahzun gave it to me."

"Huh." It was an odd tone the two runners caught on. Illyas' brow furrowed but he didn't shake the nagging doubt in him. Not in front of a child who had been through a lot.

"Is something wrong?" Naime asked.

"No, no," Illyas quickly reassured her. "He's got a companion to keep him safe."

Naime didn't think much of Illyas' hidden uncertainty. Or the runners' silence. Her relief that her son was back alive and unbitten washed any sort of turmoil out of her. She turned back to Berkant, beyond happy, and took his hand.

"Thank you. You two are truly giving the world back its hope," she again uttered tirelessly and the two went back inside the City Hall building, administration area.

"You've seen that teddy bear," with the course clear, Jack flanked Illyas with that statement.

Illyas wasn't trying to hide it from them but from Naime herself. "Those visitors I told you about. The one who caused a racket…he had that teddy bear with him."

Both runners stiffened. Was that how Mazhun got Berkant to leave the safe zone? The two runners passed a quiet glance to each other, visually disliking the idea an infected bribed a kid out of a Safe Zone with a toy.

A much grimmer thought that it hadn't been a total stranger but someone Berkant and Naime knew.

"What's this about a racket?" Jack then pressed on.

"He was being a bit erratic. Nothing dangerous. His friend said he had the jitters with the zombies." Ilyas gave out a laugh of agreement. "Everyone here knows that feeling all too well."

As much as Jack kept her grin up, her face was etched with a mix of concern and doubt. Illyas' response was far too casual, too calm - it was a normal conversation to Illyas like any other.

That irked her. And Crane shared that thought as well. Two minds think alike.

"Hey. Did they look strange to you?" Crane then asked.

Illyas shook his head, his response unknowingly giving a vile taste in both runners' mouths. "Kept their heads down but no… They weren't normal visitors, were they?"

He caught on the questioning with his furrowed brow. He glanced from Crane to Jack, back and forth, wanting an answer.

If they had to guess, to him, he thought that Mahzun and his friend were armed, dangerous men. And not the grimmest idea on their minds.

"No reason," Jack said, her thinned smile hiding her concern. "Berkant's back safe and sound."

"...Yeah." He dropped it, more out of relief for Berkant. "Let's just hope those problems are behind us."

With that, he headed back to attend matters in City Hall.

The whole atmosphere seemed to liven up with the return of the young boy, a happy mother and a leader back to business. The order could return to City Hall.

The ex-kickboxer and the hooded man, however, were quiet. Illyas had left them with the unsettling realization that small problems were the least of anyone's worries. It might just be the beginning of something unwelcoming.

"Hey, Freakazoid," Jack whispered. "You walked in here with no trouble, right?"

"...Yeah. Nobody stopped me."

Jack's sinking feeling grew a deeper pit inside. "...You don't think-"

"I don't want to think it," Crane didn't hesitate in giving that answer. But he couldn't ignore the fact. "...But if someone like me walked in without any problem…then yeah. It's a big deal."

The brunette grimaced but ended with a deep sigh. None of what she experienced was to her liking - it just added a lot more caution on her plate than she expected.

If the Firebrand was just a bloody fairytale used to spook people, then who was this strange group?

And the word, 'brotherhood'...

Save it for another day, Jack thought to herself. As of now, she couldn't sour the atmosphere with pointless thinking.

"At least this had a happy ending," she said.

Happy. A long way for such a thing but Crane took what he could get out of the whole experience. Berkant was back with his mom - that was all that mattered.

This brotherhood nonsense Mahzun sprouted? That Mahzun came from the Countryside? Push those thoughts out of his mind.

Think about it. They were in a different city anyway. Far from the Countryside-

Then he heard it.

Immediately, he was drawn to the faraway noise. Wheeled his head in that direction.

That sudden reaction caught Jack's attention. "What's wrong, mate?"

"...Gunshots."

---

Curiosity led two cats to a scene, back to the guarded storage facility.

The front door had been opened. Just like that. It was daunting to think a person would just yank the metal sliding up like so. But there was no sign of forced entry.

It was a bloodbath inside.

Fresh. Barely fifteen minutes. Flies hadn't even arrived to lay their eggs. The group of prisoners they left alive? They were found dead.

Splattered, gutted out. Eyes frozen in fear.

A feral had budged their way in and tore them apart without mercy.

Bullets had been fired. Weapons had been swung.

But no one survived.

Jack stared at the crime scene. Shocked. Modified. She had seen death and brushed death off. But to such an extent?

There was fury and there was precision. She could see it in the tears at the men's necks. Quick and simple. None of the prisoners would have a chance to fight back their mysterious assailant.

Hence, the scene left both of them speechless.

"Jesus…" Freakazoid gasped. It was inhuman. Brutal.

Monstrous.

"You don't suppose Mahzun's friend came by here?" Jack proposed as the two ventured inside. Deep into the bodies and every surface area were both types of slices; irregular and clean slices. Claw marks and a blade - as close as the ones Mahzun made during their fight.

Then she counted the bodies.

"...There's only four." Where was the fifth?

Crane found a clue - it was almost hard to see on the blood-colored floor. Out of the pool, unusual footprints and a bloody drag mark slipped out to a backdoor. Claw marks ripped at the padlock and the door's frame.

He followed the trail. Left, right, left, right. Noting that the foot size in the red mud was rather large, the toes seemed…pointed in shape.

Out the backdoor, he found the fifth man. Also dead. But that wasn't the shocking thing.

It's been the longest time since he felt…fear. Terror. A cold sense of dread that left him uncomfortable.

Someone had painted a symbol over the 'Firebrand' icon with blood. A 'better' sun. With blazing rays of fire.

Crane had seen it before. Again, it did shock him but that wasn't the most striking thing.

It was the word painted in blood.

APOSTATE.

In big. Red. Messy. Letters.

Crane's eyes were too fixated on the name - he didn't notice Jack's presence, first oblivious until she turned around and her walk slowed down.

The wall's mural gave all sorts of creeps, enough to make her skin crawl.

"That's…ominous," Jack murmured with none of her preppy tone.

Crane remained silent. Both of them didn't speak. There was nothing they could instigate on the matter. Only utter dread sunk in.

There were too many holes in a rumor they knew little of and too few bricks to build on a hypothesis. Too many mysteries in one box. And even then, did they both want to be right? Did they want to open the box?

Kyle had…hunches and he wanted to discard them right out of the gate.

---

A/N: 27/12/2023 Hello everyone! I'm still alive and writing!

Any writing is long due for this story. It took a long time for me to get anything down and most importantly, write. I'm always smashing my head to the wall trying to figure out how to write and why I'm writing every and any part for this fic. But writing this whole story is always an enjoyment to me. I love going into stories that tackle and build a character to venture either out of their comfort zone or to old places. More so about Crane's own experiences and with all kinds of characters pushing, working with and helping him through the storytelling.

That said, this isn't the next arc. I still have its plot outline in the backburner and as mentioned in my last chapter's note, I wanted to do an intermission chapter because there were still a lot of short Scanderoon-related ideas I wanted to write before these two runners would go to Harran. Which is what I delivered here. By the way, this is actually part 1. I, uh, ended up with a lot of side quest ideas that I didn't realize I was going much longer on a chapter. This might be my longest so far... Oops.

I'll keep this note short as some readers might get sick and tired of me giving excuses why the main story hasn't moved on (no point in repeating that I'm slow and doing a big story like this takes time) but I do appreciate the countless support and love on this fic from you all. This has been my most dedicated fanfiction work ever and I'm so happy to flesh out the many ideas into these stories in one fic.

With that down, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all. I hope you'll like this late gift and I'll be working on the second half. Yay~!ヾ(-ω-) I'm gonna crash in bed.

27/12/23 - First initial.

28/12/23 - Minor fixes and fixed missing horizontal borders