APOSTLE'S CREED - a zombie story

[TGRF]

Sorry for the delay, I was gone over the weekend.

Chapter 7:

Spoiler Alert!

Exit’s that way. Better hurry. To save her, to kill me… whatever motivates you best.”

This actually answers a nagging thought I had with the last chapter, about how Silvin expected Thorn to automatically know both that he had Stacey and where she was. So kudos there for including that. Not sure how I feel about Jaxson surviving, but...

I did for a moment think that Silvin was changing sides and actually helping Jaxson, which would have been a true twist out of the blue. But this makes more sense.

There remained no sign of its previous inhabitants, nor any indication of where they might’ve gone.

If this were me, I would instantly be calling into question the allegiance of whoever gave them this location. Didn't someone literally 'talk' to whoever was in charge here in Omaha? Was that Lewis? Or was it some random operator Header got a hold of? I can't recall.

They’d lost their cars

We aren't counting the one Header randomly ditched for basically no reason...

Though he considered himself a pessimist, things going this poorly all on their own bordered on ridiculous.

Firstly, Thorn considering himself a pessimist really doesn't add up. I've never seen any concrete indication of pessimism OR optimism from him. I'd probably chalk this up to a general lack of being in his head, and also just the general efficiency and control with which he acts. If I had to guess, I would have pegged him as a realist pretty easily. So learning this is odd.

Second, I don't consider the way things have gone as being ridiculous. Granted, you have terrorists/cultists out to get you with magical powers over the zombies and a Terminator at their call. But that's all been seen before. The idea that some external force has to be directing things in a zombie apocalypse doesn't really make sense to me here.

In such a situation, people WILL die unless they make smart decisions. That is to be expected. Header's been making some pretty questionable judgement calls repeatedly, so it isn't surprising to me at all that things are going this badly. Honestly I'm surprised the group is as big as it is after walking - walking - into Omaha with no plan.

Header fiddled with one of the open laptops laying before the radios,

lying.

That was only the stuff Thomas knew about, he didn’t doubt there was plenty more.

I can think of one thing which Brooke has remained oddly silent about... Man, Thorn might be right about a conspiracy... they're all conspiring against each other! Okay, okay, back to the story...

It was where they were planning on hiding after this adventure.

Adventure?!? Definitely need a different word there.

Did you ask me what should be done of the situation? Of course not.

Did you invite any such questions? Did you deflect them by being absent and keeping the group out behind locked doors? This is no excuse, Nazar.

I just know.

This is the guy who expects them to just trust him...

but sin endures through the species’ continual procreation. He is going to end that once and for all

I would assume this means King plans on killing himself if he succeeds. Unless he somehow believes he is sinless and/or that original sin doesn't exist/apply to him.

Contact Oakerley if he’s alive, and find a way back to VACC as soon as possible.

I don't know what I expect from Nazar, but just... wow. 'Find a way back'? Seriously? Admit you believe in what the enemy is doing, refuse to provide reasons for your 'allegiance', and then offer zero help in making it out of an apocalypse you just admitted your brother made? Why don't these guys contact Tandom and go there instead?

We’ve been lucky, after all. Mostly.”

This seems ironic coming not long after Thorn ruminating on how things have gone extraordinarily bad and considering it abnormal. Even more ironic when you consider this is coming from Thomas, the actual pessimist, while the later came from Thorn, who considers himself a pessimist for some reason but almost certainly isn't.

(any enemy-carried foodstuff might be unsafe)

...Why? Is their food poisonous or something?

They could’ve taken the boat mercilessly—same difference for Jarek and Gavin—and they could just kill the prisoner and get it over with…

This is where the age-old moral dilemma of zombie stories comes in: do you do whatever it takes to survive, and deal with the consequences later; or do you try to preserve your humanity, convinced that if you abandon it, you'll sentence the human race as surely as if you got bit?

While it's commonplace in more ethically-centered zombie media, I find it oddly refreshing here for some reason... like some sort of familiarity in the midst of all the unknowns. A curious effect; thought I'd mention it.

“Who’s paying for all this stuff?”

On the surface this is a logical question, but this is an apocalypse. Apostle could easily have infiltrated several military bases before the outbreak, then looted the heck out of them while everyone else was running around screaming and being eaten. That's... like zombie survival 101: loot stuff.

“So unless this King guy can magically spawn helicopters, I’m guessin’ there’s at least one big player footin’ the bills.”

I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if he can. According to Nazar, the guy can literally spawn wings on the moon. And apparently ignore the laws of gravity while doing it, because those wings wouldn't just stay there normally. If he can do that, a few helicopters ought to be easy. Heck, if he really wanted to stop these guys, he could probably just conjure up a pit full of zombies beneath them or something. Which actually raises some additional questions...

“That doesn’t make sense.” Irene said.

I can't help but read this line and feel like it reflects a lot of the reactions in both of these stories.

There was just heat everywhere it seemed. Apostle personnel swarming the entire area, even now that they were without the cure. Perhaps they weren’t aware? But then what of the man who’d destroyed it—Nazar’s brother? And if they were all on the same page and knew Joetex’s vial was no more, then why continue the endless assault? What else could there possibly be?

I feel like this is something which has been missing: a simple recap of the questions. I feel like I do this too much in my own stories, but it is useful for actually listing things out, as well as having the characters consider the questions the reader is certainly asking himself.

I'm looking forward to more, now that progress seems to be being made. Nazar has supplied some new things to think about, some answers have been provided, and that single paragraph listing current questions helped miles in lessening the chaotic feel of the unknowns. In a good way.

~TGRF.

[TheAverageFan]

Glad you are back and hope you enjoyed your vacation (assumedly). As promised, I've been posting consistently so you now have a large chunk of story you can power through all at once should the urge strike you.

Regarding your criticisms of Thorn's pessimism thoughts, I will say only this:

Spoiler Alert!

Originally Posted by Apostle's Creed, Chapter 7

____Thomas frowned at the thought. They were supposed to be good to go from here, but as always things hadn’t gone as planned. They’d lost their cars, then lost the cure, then lost one of their newest members, and now had lost the troops that should’ve been here. Everything was conspiring against them, it seemed. Bad luck, maybe? Though he considered himself a pessimist, things going this poorly all on their own bordered on ridiculous. That of course only left conspiracy. It was a thought he didn’t prefer to entertain. They didn’t even have the cure anymore, after all—there was no reason for their enemies to continue to bear down on them so relentlessly.

Also since you'd mentioned it my recommended drinking game for AC is to take a shot every time the group manages to lose or gain cars in their adventures.



On with Chapter 10:

Spoiler Alert!

10
The Exclave

i

____Thomas had been put back in charge of driving and now followed closely behind Header’s vehicle, watching closely for any signs of danger or even changes in the scenery. He still didn’t feel out of the woods yet, not when the whole group wasn’t together or truly back at VACC.
____Before they could return there, Lt. Oakerley had given their group one final stop along the way: some civilian-made settlement east of the city. The idea was an odd one, as Thomas would’ve thought the military would point to one of the safety zones, which he still hadn’t seen on his travels thus far. But the actual “safety” of these zones seemed at least partially in doubt from what he had heard. Could an above-ground stronghold made and held only by normal citizens really be better? He wasn’t sure, but if Oakerley suggested it then it should be okay.
____The jeep ahead signaled left and turned, Thomas following the movement. Down this way the road wound throughout the relatively flat terrain. After leaving the city, their route took them through more townships and suburbs, all of which were long since vacant. They weren’t even worth trying to loot at this rate: more likely to house zombies than any goods that hadn’t perished by now. Disrepair had also set in heavily, aided with the onset of colder weather. At last it looked like a genuine apocalypse rather than the lying faces of normal-looking scenery at the start of the outbreak. Thomas eyed it all with suspicion, hoping this wasn’t the haven Oakerley had been referring to. But past all the ruin there lay a hill ahead in the distance. and upon it was a noticeably more maintained set of buildings. The structures that had surrounded it had been destroyed and cleared away, providing more of a vantage to its inhabitants. That had to be it. Header’s jeep led the way.
____Immediately it became apparent to Thomas why this place was better off: it looked like a gated community of sorts, complete with an encircling wall about it at the lower grounds. Any gaps in this had been built up to make it a genuine defense, with only the roads that had originally cut through it still being accessible. For the rest there were other defenses built into the grounds surrounding this place: mostly long sets of wires stretching across the land. All were rigged with hooks and bells and other sources of alarms and stalling methods. Thomas couldn’t see any undead hanging entangled in the wires now, but they were plenty watered with blood in spots, indicating upkeep: these defenses were still manned and killed undead removed from the traps at at least some regular interval. This place might possess some merit after all.
____Irene eyed all of this from the back seat with suspicion as they neared, “You sure these people aren’t gonna eat us?”
____“It should be okay.” Thomas said, “At least we were told it would be.”
____“Hmm.” Her eyes leaned back to the window she was staring out of, “Maybe. I’d sooner go straight to VACC than risk getting burned again.”
____Thomas thought on her words, knowing she’d experienced things she likely wouldn’t talk about for a long time if at all. Bad situations, bad leadership, people exploiting people… it was something he hadn’t had to worry about. Things remained relatively simple for his group: the zombies were bad, Apostle was bad, the group was good. Straightforward. He wanted things to stay that way: such complexities were best saved for storytelling and philosophical pondering. Out here they would easily double the challenges of survival. Especially now, the way things were wilting after months of no production. Scarcity would be the third head of this apocalyptic beast, and far worse than the zombies or Apostle if permitted to reach its full power before the first two were dealt with. Hopefully this place could offer some assistance on that front: properly cultivated food, solid shelter, warm beds to sleep in… no, not that. For the others, maybe.
____The road curved here and there before leading up to the wall. There stood the foundation of the gate that had barred this community, built and piled up with additional defenses and fortifications. Wood and bricks torn from the withered houses beyond had been hauled here and stacked high. Verticality was the best defense against the undead by default, and as such the walls were all built tall and sheer. It was cobbled together to be sure, but still an impressive project for what was seemingly only a group effort of this community here without outside assistance. The gate across the actual road was dreadfully narrowed—likely to lure undead into a tight funnel where they could be easily dispatched rather than let them fester into a horde around the settlement walls—and there at that entrance were four fit men with guns waiting as the vehicles rolled up.
____Header exited the Humvee weaponless as a sign of good faith, approaching to chat with them all. Thomas watched and just waited, hands on the wheel, not quite trusting of anything.
____Outside the Sergeant calmly explained himself to these unknown new hosts. Oakerley couldn’t call them in advance, so he instead only dropped the name into his introduction, how they just came from Omaha and were headed further northeast. Whether or not to say anything about VACC was something he remained undecided on, just in case things went t*ts-up here.
____The man he spoke to, introducing himself only as John, just nodded at Header’s words. “We’re not exactly a motel.” he said, “If we let everyone in this place would’ve been too populous to live the way we have.”
____“So is that a ‘turn around’?” Header asked.
____“I never said that. We’re not barbarians. It’s just that you’ve got a lot of people with you.”
____“We ain’t plannin’ on stayin’ forever. Just a pit stop if yer willing to have us. We got some bullets and medical supplies to offer, an’ my compatriot and I can do labor while we’re here if that helps pay fer passage.”
____John seemed pleased with the idea, “Hmm, maybe. We’ll take it up with Julie Anne. Just don’t try anything if she says something that doesn’t please you. Don’t think you’re the first to attempt whatever tricks you’re thinkin’ of. We’ve gotten real good at killing thieves, even ones who disguise themselves in army gear.”
____“Haw!” Header laughed, “Fair enough. Lead the way.”
____The man motioned to his comrades to operate the gates, which they slowly widened to permit the vehicles to pass through. Header reentered the jeep and pulled in, John beckoning the second car in and pointing them over to a parking spot behind the walls. He wanted them to walk from here, likely so they’d all be easier to kill if they tried anything devious. Remaining wary, Thomas obeyed and left the car behind for now, carefully eyeing everything around him.
____This Julie Anne character had a thing for attempted normality, he could tell. A conscious effort had been made to continue upkeep on the buildings and houses within the circle to make them seem as usual as possible. Only the absence of the careless use of electricity served as a reminder of the situation, windows clean but dark like a dollhouse’s.
____John led the way down the street, the group following between the few rows of buildings that made up this place. It seemed like a township here: a main road cutting through a handful of what may have been small marts before winding into the houses that took up the rest. A self-sufficient little place, before and after the outbreak, or perhaps the wall had been extended out to grasp the stores prior to the zombies’ inevitable arrival. It wasn’t so far from the city of Omaha that they’d have tons and tons of time to prepare, but they had nonetheless gotten by unscathed from the looks of it. Thomas glanced around as they walked up the street. There were a few onlookers… but not many. Sparsely populated. He frowned. Maybe not so completely unscathed.
____John turned and entered a small warehouse adjacent to the last shop on the row. Here and here alone there was electricity: fluorescents above giving the scene the more even lighting one might see at VACC. There was a functioning computer, radio, and television here, the few children of the compound crowded around the latter watching a rerun of some show Thomas didn’t recognize. On the left were gun racks and bullets strewn around a folding table. By this stood a woman and two men, all glancing the advancing party’s way as John walked them over. A generator providing the power hummed loudly from the back corner: the first and only voice to greet them immediately.
____“Julie Anne.” John addressed the woman, “Got company. Need to talk to you.”
____She looked them all over, Thomas doing the same to her. She couldn’t be over forty: autumn hair and eyes, round face, not especially hardened at a glance. Not quite who he expected these men to answer to. Her voice though gave a more grim impression, answering plainly, “Lots of company this week.”
____Header lightly tipped his helmet as though it were a hat in greeting, “Lt. Oakerley, I imagine?”
____She didn’t seem to answer the name with immediate trust in the Sergeant, “More than just his company. Watchers in black and helicopters. Loud thunder at night. There was even a drone yesterday.”
____“More of them bastards I figure. Apologies for all that, ma’am. See, we’ve stirred up a lot of trouble around these parts it seems.”
____Julie Anne glanced them all over again, “Who are you people, then?”
____His thumb rapped on his breastplate, “Sergeant Brysen Header, at your service. I’m the leader and benevolent dictator of this company escorting these folks to a safe zone called VACC.” Header pointed next to Thorn, “This is Corporal Thorn, my partner an’ second-in-command here.”
____“Yes’m.” Thorn nodded his greetings.
____“And do you all have titles, being of such importance?” Julie Anne asked.
____“Yes.” Thomas answered her dryly, “I’m Thomas Santeri, the driver.”
____Brooke nodded, “And I’m Brooke, the group’s, um… bard.”
____“Gene Lembeck, the comic relief.” Gene gestured to the two remaining newcomers, “Irene So-And-So, our tsundere.” She scowled at him but he paid her no mind, “And This Guy, our prisoner.”
____The woman seemed mildly amused at them all, nodding her approval, “And I am Julie Anne, the founder of this Exclave.” She gestured to the children crowded around the TV screen at the other end of the room, quietly bickering amongst themselves, “Those are my little ones. The second I heard about what was happening I knew I had to protect them. So I and anyone who’d listen then walled up this place, for their future’s sake.”
____“And saved many lives in doing so, it seems.” Header said, “Well done for a civilian response.”
____“But not too many people…” Thomas pondered aloud.
____She heard him, facing him, “No, not too many. Their future’s sake, I said. When the tide hit they all tried to claw their way in, like you’d expect, like Noah’s story. I accepted only as many as we could realistically take and sent the rest away to die or pile into the federal shelters. We have no plans to quickly starve in a human swarm. That’s the order I force here, why we’re still here. If that bothers you then you can move right along.”
____John nodded, “Think about it, driver. If Noah let ‘em all onto the ark, how well do you really think it would’ve gone?”
____“Seeing as there was no ark: as good or as badly as you want, I suppose.” Thomas said, “But I was merely observing, not judging. I know how it’d go at VACC were it packed to the brim, how it likely is at the safety zones already.”
____Brooke frowned at him, and he knew she probably didn’t see eye-to-eye with his perspective. Were it up to her he imagined she wouldn’t be able to refuse anyone, and then it’d be chaos and everyone would die. But she wouldn’t see that far ahead, thinking only of her own conscious in that moment where refusal would have to come. Such things had to be hard logical choices he knew, to become a bit more evil for the greater good of those who would survive because of it. It wasn’t like the ones who made those choices reveled in it or were proud of it, but still… a bit more evil. That was a bridge too far for Brooke.
____“The safety zones. Yeah, they’ve asked us to go there more than once.” John told him, “‘For our safety’ they said. Sent two guys with guns over to tell us we were endangering ourselves and our families staying topside, like it was the mob or something. Sent them packing just as fast. Like hell we’re leaving this place for that.”
____“I only help military men like you because you haven’t tried forcing us anywhere yet.” Julie Anne told Header, “You can stay. We have some provisions—enough for the winter? We’ll see—so I suppose we can afford to be generous. And we have a bit more space ever since Walter’s family left, so you can lodge there. But if you stay, you work. That’s the rule. This isn’t a resort. Only sweat and effort will keep fresh food coming after all the rations have rotted away.”
____Header chuckled, “That’s fine by me, ma’am. The kid and I git pent-up unless we’re doin’ something worth something.”
____“Physical labor, yay!” Gene echoed.
____Julie Anne ignored him, turning her attention last to the prisoner in the back. She nodded at him, still in his uniform, “That’s one of the watchers. They were spying on us a few days ago. Planning nothing good, I’m sure of it.”
____“I think they might’ve been following Oakerley’s company.” Thorn explained, “We killed them in Omaha. This one gave up.”
____“Were you spying on us?” Julie Anne demanded of the black-clad soldier.
____“Yes.” He admitted in a mumble, “But we kept moving. It was too heavily defended for our one squad.”
____“Did you report it to anyone?”
____“My superior said he ‘marked it for later’.”
____Thorn frowned, “Think others will band all together and attack it?”
____“Let ‘em try.” Julie Anne said, “Carrion birds can only eat dead things. Try to hit us and you’ll get more than you bargained for.”
____“We should leave.” The prisoner muttered, barely audible.
____“You’re honestly taking this one with you?”
____Header shrugged, “We thought he might provide some useful info to the higher-ups maybe, but Oakerley’s men wouldn’t take ‘im.”
____“I’m not going to take him either, but if you insist on keeping him around I can promise he won’t escape while he’s here.” She pointed and both John and the first of the two men by her side moved deftly to the prisoner.
____“Agreed. And thank you fer puttin’ up with us.” Header bowed slightly, a gesture that surprised Thomas. Perhaps things were dire, or maybe he was just especially polite with civilian superiors.
____As the Apostle hostage was yanked away Julie Anne muttered something to the second man by her, a younger fellow all in black who nodded and whispered back, “Yes, there’s space.” He was dismissed and left at that.
____“Dinner will be served soon.” She said to them all, “How long will you be staying?”
____“A day or two at most maybe.” Thorn answered quickly. Two days seemed like a long time, with VACC being so near, Thomas thought. Ah, but of course—giving James a speck of time to work with, perhaps. Thorn was really hoping the stars would align for them all. Thomas himself both hoped and knew better.
____Outside the warehouse people gradually gathered, generally knowing the time of day and heading over to where food would be served. Men dragged tables over, started fires and opened cans. The scent of real food made newcomer nostrils flare with nostalgia. No hardtack rations here: only well-preserved stuff from before the outbreak mixed in with newly foraged or even raised sustenance. Things were brought in and mixed together, cooked slowly in pots or over fires before being dished out evenly. It reminded Thomas somewhat of a potluck. Existing residents even came over to mingle with him, talking in a relaxed or curious tone. Almost… normal.
____Brooke earned her keep right away by playing her violin amidst the gathering, giving the rare vivaciousness of live music to these people: another speck of normalcy brought back for them. Thomas wasn’t much of a socializer, not nearly so much as her anyway, so he slunk off as usual to the closest thing that constituted a corner, speaking very little to anyone that tried to ask him about anything. He remained worried, just as he was when first coming to VACC and harboring suspicions even at the warm reception. What if another helicopter swooped in? But Julie Anne didn’t seem concerned at the threat of it. Now if only he could let other people not being worried allow him to not be worried…
____“You look exceptionally pale.” Thorn said to him, walking over to assist in the observing of the scene, “Just watching? Fretting?”
____“I fret.” Thomas told him, “As if you don’t.”
____“It’s my job. If I let my guard down, someone dies. I like to think I make it so others don’t have to be so guarded. You can enjoy yourself for a bit. I’ll make sure these folks don’t suddenly try anything.”
____“Indeed I was thinking about how it could almost be like before the outbreak. But you can’t be nostalgic for something like this, can you?”
____“No.” Thorn admitted, “Even if everything magically goes back to normal when this is all over, this is something I’ll never get to be a part of.”
____“You won’t let yourself?”
____“How can I? Someone has to keep the watch.”
____Thomas smirked, “A sad existence.”
____“Not as sad as anyone else having to experience it.”
____Thomas recalled the Corporal’s well-defined story of trauma he’d shared before. But part of that suffering was self-inflicted, he could tell (as all good trauma was, he joked to himself). Thorn would never let himself be happy. Thomas shrugged, “Even if there’s no Silvin?”
____“There’ll always be more Silvins.” The Corporal said, “I’ll see to it you never have to hear about them.”
____“A life of watching it’ll be, then.”
____“It’s not so bad. I’ll if nothing else take some non-MRE eats while I can. And sleeping in a soft bed again wouldn’t hurt either, if only for a bit.”
____“…”
____Thorn glanced at him, “What? …Ah, yes, the beds. They’re bound to have at least one easy chair or sofa in those houses.”
____“Yeah.” Thomas answered simply.
____“Is it really so bad even after all this we’ve experienced?”
____“I’ve seen people die, before the outbreak.”
____Thorn mused on the words, “It shapes you. And now you still won’t get too close. You won’t let yourself.”
____“You connect the dots quick.” Thomas said, “Yes, even in this rare opportunity I won’t dare get close to any of these people, not too quick.” His eyes fell on Brooke. She was smiling and saying something he couldn’t hear to one of the children near her, showing how her instrument worked. He watched longingly, “But I’m slipping. It’s going to hurt real bad when it goes from slipping to slipped.”
____Evening came quickly, and before long Julie Anne showed the newcomers to their living quarters: a small condo with space to accommodate them. “This should suffice.” she told them, “But it’s not a hotel—I expect you up bright and early to pay your way. There’s no shortage of work and plenty shortage of men with strong backs to handle it around here. Repairs, scavenging, wiring, and the like.”
____Header nodded simply. He expected as such in exchange for the food and shelter.
____Gene raised his hand. “Uh, if I may…” he said, “Are you referring to just the two soldiers, or all of us?”
____“Do we look like we have soldiers to do all the work around here? You’ve got both your legs and a heartbeat—of course you’re included.”
____“What if not all of us are good at those kinds of tasks?”
____“What are you good for then, mister?” She asked him.
____He shrugged, “Well, I’m not really much good at anything.”
____Julie Anne scoffed, “What business does a useless man have in a total apocalypse?”
____“That’s TBD, I suppose.”
____Thorn shook his head, “We’ll find him something to work on ma’am, rest assured.”
____“He’d better.” Julie Anne looked Gene in the eye, “Everyone does something around here, Mr. Useless, and that’s probably the same anywhere else expecting to survive long. The trial-by-fire made this place, and all of us in it. Everyone else died. So if you still have no purpose, then it means you haven’t had your trial-by-fire yet. Either that, or you just haven’t died yet.”
____“Haha…” Gene nervously laughed, rubbing the back of his messy head, “Well, guess not… Not either one of those, or both…”
____He slunk into the condo, everyone else following with a smirk. Julie Anne hadn’t been wrong: useless people probably had no right surviving long-term in such times. There was one problem unsaid however: at VACC where they were going, all of them were ultimately serving no use.

ii

DAY 4

____Jax, do the right thing. Do what you know is right and you’ll be rewarded in the end, no matter how much it might hurt now. Keep to that, it’s the only rule you really need to live by.
____I love you, Dad.
____I love you too. Now go out there and run for me.
____Silence.
____Run.
____The hiss of a zombie.
____Run!!
____The same hiss, louder.
____“Yah!” Jaxson startled, the sensation of falling waking him. He quickly caught himself before he dropped further, having very nearly slipped from his precarious position high up in the tree he’d been sleeping in. Two branches close together had been the best bed he could muster: a hard hammock and a dangerous place to be tossing and turning while unconscious. How Miles had ever done it he had no idea.
____It wasn’t his first choice, that spot. But it did in the end turn out to be his only choice last night and the one before. The hiss again. Jaxson glanced down. Three zombies still mulled about by the roots, circling slowly or dumbly clawing at the trunk below. They seemed too unintelligent to climb up (it’d been difficult enough for him), but remained viciously tenacious. He had hoped they would wander off somewhere else in the hours that’d passed, as many of the other chasers had in the day previous, but they stuck to him stubbornly as his three biggest fans.
____His hand still hurt like a b*tch, pain flaring whenever it even brushed against anything. Shoulder wasn’t much better: a fresher wound and easily scraping against the bark in his position. The wound looked infected: both itchy and dreadfully painful. Jaxson swore under his breath as he precariously stretched and adjusted his position. It was careful work and he still hurt all over, doubly cramped from sleeping on the two branches.
____He was starving on top of that. So bad that he almost wondered if zombie meat was safe to eat. Of course not, even a tiny bit was doubtlessly fatal. And that was besides the cannibalism. Proud explorers gladly starved without ever even thinking of resorting to that. He mentally kicked himself for giving it any consideration at all.
____Daylight was burning. Jaxson carefully began climbing his way down, keeping a watchful eye on the undead gathered below. They were bunched up already as he descended, right beneath him. It was still some distance…
____His half-hand slipped on the bark, smearing fresh blood down the trunk as he suddenly fell. For that split-second where gravity kicked in-full force Jaxson realized that he was a dead man. His other hand gripped as he slipped but had nothing to fasten to. It desperately groped at the air as he fell.
____Crunch!! His leg hit a branch hard as he dropped, but it went beneath his knee and so his joint hooked it. He quickly caught it with his hand, shakily clutching the tree’s outstretched limb with one leg and one hand. The rest of him dangled mere inches from the zombies’ outstretched arms.
____“...!” Jaxson swore in gasps as he steadied himself and clung to the branch, feeling it wobble. His cut hand was bleeding again, droplets falling on the rotting hands and heads below.
____Do the right thing. No matter the cost… He muttered internally, God damn it. I’m killing myself here, and for what? If I’d only kept my big mouth shut, it’d be Stacey out here and I’d be up in that factory office safe from all these freaks…
____He could feel his father’s ghost sighing and shaking his head. Those countless lessons imparted upon Jaxson agreed. It’d been hammered into his head too many times for him to convince himself otherwise: better him than Stacey out here, better a thousand times over. Besides, he couldn’t imagine what she was going through right now. Haplessly in the clutches of that terrorist bastard. Silvin only liked to act all weird and aloof: he could flip on a dime and do something truly horrifying without a second thought.
____Forget Thorn freaking out over Stacey’s capture and rushing to her rescue: Jaxson had to do something for her! And he couldn’t help by staying up in this tree.
____“Okay, okay…” He paced himself, clawing his way atop the branch. He steadied himself: his legs were still good, or good enough. It was a seven, eight foot drop to the highest ground below. If he landed into a roll the impact would spread across his back instead of all hitting his feet. But damn if this wasn’t an awkward position to leap from, or land to.
____It didn’t matter. He’d succeed or die.
____“Here goes everything…!” Jaxson sprung off the branch, landing hard on the uneven terrain and falling forward. He rolled, downhill, then back up to his feet and began limping away, gradually working his way up to a solid jog.
____“Khaa…!” The zombies hissed at his success, turning and following. There were the three kinds among them: the slow lumberer hobbling along, the middle-of-the-road walker, and the full-fledged runner. That last one would be the biggest bastard all day long if Jaxson didn’t find a way to kill him first. But for the time being he had nothing to work with. And besides, he was faster than even that one.
____He fled, going south and keeping as brisk a pace as he could. He couldn’t run all-out as he had before on his group’s travels: able to maintain stamina from a fair-enough day’s journey and being kept well-fed and hydrated. It allowed him to do great feats of sprinting or other demanding physical activities when called for. Now he was starving and thirsty and partially butchered. He’d need food and water to cover a real good distance, and a damn blood-transfusion honestly wouldn’t hurt either.
____His shoes felt like bricks as he continued moving. Just an hour of running was murder, even with the day being pleasantly cool but still sunlit. No food, no water. The best he could do for himself was finding a rock and throwing it at Mr. Fast-Zombie. He knocked the monster down and it only twitched and shivered on the ground, not immediately hopping back to its feet. It gave him some time.
____Jaxson briskly walked. He wouldn’t let himself stop moving until there was guarantee of refueling: otherwise he might collapse and become zombie chow. But he was simply in sparse dead woods. No sign of water. Nothing to eat. He kept moving, always keeping his eyes peeled. No sign of water. Nothing to eat, still.
____The only thing he’d managed to consume yesterday were some truly meager berries. They hadn’t turned out to be poisonous, thank God, but they were less than a snack. Now there was absolutely nothing. What he wouldn’t give for a cheeseburger. Or even one of those awful MRE’s Header gave them. Or just even a glass of water…! Imagining even a single droplet falling upon the cracked-paint surface that was his tongue and healing a tiny spot of it was too great a thought to bear.
____Continuing the journey, Jaxson managed to find his way out of the woods and back into the open fields that stretched on. There the road was: just going on and on in either direction. He wasn’t even sure if this was the same road or a different one, no way of knowing where exactly he was on the map. Silvin had seemed to think the rest of their group would be within walking distance…
____Jaxson followed it now, only to give him a direction. Nothing like an expressway road to give one a true understanding of the limits of walking: it took forever for any landmark to come and go, something that a car could pass in a heartbeat. But he wouldn’t find a vehicle any time soon, so he kept on trudging.
____The zombies hadn’t caught up. Jaxson finally gave in and allowed himself a break, finding a speed limit sign to lean against. His head felt light while his feet remained heavy.
____It’s the bloodloss. He told himself, I might just drop dead here. The only thing they gave me for the journey was a fresh wound. The others might find Stacey, if fate wills it, but not necessarily because of my telling them. I might just bite it out here. Just… die…
____Death was rarely profound or meaningful in its occurrences. Knowing that made Jaxson certain that this journey here would be his end. He’d done the right thing one last time—speaking up when asked who among them would die—and now he was going to bite it as the result. He always knew it was going to go like this: he’d told Gene this was going to happen well over a month ago. Why act surprised?
____“Well take comfort in this: there’s no way in hell you’re gonna die out here while I’m still alive. You’re too qualified to die.” Gene had said to him. Jaxson chuckled and glanced at his ravaged hand and shoulder.
____“Too qualified to die? Well, not anymore…” He muttered. He leaned his head back against the sign and sighed, letting the exhaustion cover him in a heavy cloak of closed eyes. Waiting to pass out, and maybe never wake back up.
____What are you doing? He could hear his father saying, Quit feeling sorry for yourself! That’ll get you nowhere!
____He didn’t know why he bothered thinking back, We never got anywhere, Dad. You never got anywhere after a whole lifetime. I’m bleeding and starved and I’m missing my fingers. I deserve a break.
____I didn’t raise you to give up when you bleed a little! Dad retorted, Missing some fingers! Think about those zombies, Jax. They’re people! They lost their entire lives! And do you think anyone who’s handicapped just gave up when the outbreak began? Most had it worse than you, but do you think that meant they just rolled over and accepted it? No, I guarantee plenty of them are fighting even now to stay alive!
____You’re a delusion.
____It’s you who’s deluded. Have you forgotten about Stacey already, son? It’s only been a few hours since you pulled yourself up to save her! Has she been made safe in that time? Is there something I’m not aware of? Or she is still at the mercy of those murderers?!
____He was still being tormented by it: that one moral drilled into him since birth. Jaxson knew that while he still drew breath he could still do what was right. He could rest when he was dead. Oh, it’d be torture all right. But time and time again he convinced himself: how could he rest when she was still out there suffering?
____You’re my son, Jaxson. You’re the last scrap of proof that I ever existed at all. Only one of us need be dead right now. You’re still alive, don’t throw that away. You have to do what’s right. Don’t you dare run from that again.
____Now Jaxson plainly spoke to himself aloud: “C’mon, up…! Stacey needs you. You haven’t even been out here three days. Up!”
____At the last word he managed to pry himself back to his feet. He staggered at first, trying to steady himself against the sign. But instinctively it was with his cut hand, and so he slipped and fell again. He almost couldn’t get up again, were it not for the sound of a motor in the distance.
____Car. Person. Survivor. Food and drink?
____That got Jaxson back up. Emergency energy flooded his being, putting fire in his steps as he raced out onto the road, waving his arms like crazy, “Hey, hey!! Over here!”
____Thank God it wasn’t more of those murderers. He’d almost even take them though, there being so few possible rescuers out here. But still, it not being them didn’t necessarily mean safety. Now that he was apart from his group he had no security in guns or numbers, and now was at the mercy of whoever might come across him. Civility was only as good as being in a kind group with armed military men escorting them about.
____It was a pickup truck which sped up to Jaxson before swerving to avoid him. It hit the brakes hard and skid to a quick halt, Jaxson breathing a sigh of relief at not being passed by and left behind.
____A pale man got out of the vehicle and quickly approached with a rifle drawn. The barrel was aimed squarely at Jaxson’s chest, loaded and ready to fire at any second. Immediately he help up his hands and backed up, “Woah, hey!”
____The man didn’t shoot and kept a good enough distance not to be suddenly attacked and disarmed. He didn’t look mean or cruel but nonetheless held his captive at gunpoint and aggressively motioned to his headwear: “Where’d you get that hat?!”
____“This…?” Jaxson glanced up. He was still wearing Stacey’s hat: that stupid cap with her name on it. He took it off quickly, “Uh…”
____Now the man saw his mangled hand. He relented, “You must be the other one.”
____“You’re looking for me? It’s Jaxson.”
____“James Roree.” The man shouldered his rifle and returned to his vehicle, “Your friends sent me to look for you, not two days ago, in exchange for safe entrance to VACC. I honestly wasn’t sure how long it’d take to find you, if it was even possible, but I guess there’s not many other people in the area to bump into. And here I was certain I’d have to find zombies matching your-all’s description.”
____“Almost.” Jaxson said, “Talk about a godsend. I was about to just up and die.”
____James returned and handed him a bottle of water, which Jaxson gulped down in mere seconds. It was stiff and plastic-flavored, but in the moment it was more slaking than a thousand clear frosty glasses of unappreciated drinks a lifetime ago.
____“You’ve got better company than most in this day and age.” James told him, “Most people who aren’t vicious are dead by now, save for anyone who actually made it to a safety zone. I guess that’s where most of the still-normal people are now. But I hear those are like gulags.”
____“I wouldn’t know.” Jaxson gasped as he tossed the empty bottle aside, “I’ve only heard that they’ve been under attack. There’s still bombers left out there I guess.”
____“But not VACC? VACC’s good, right?”
____Jaxson panted out a few more heavy breaths, nodding, “Yup. Got any food?”
____“A bit in the car. Hop in, let’s go. I don’t wanna get left behind now that I’ve actually found you.”
____Jaxson followed him but had to stop himself. The temptation of rest had nearly overwhelmed him then and there. But he couldn’t just yet, “No, wait, wait. Stacey. …My friend, we have to help my friend. You’ve got a gun and a car.”
____James frowned, “Look, I’m lucky I found you. You’re my ticket into VACC.”
____Jaxson held the hat outward, “You picked up on this first. They sent you to find Stacey and me both, am I right? Well she’s alive! And I know exactly where she is. We have to rescue her! She’s in terrible danger, and I’m not taking No for an answer!”
____“She’s a doll I’m sure, and you seem nice enough. But I don’t know you. I’m not risking anything more than I already have, not needlessly. I’m certain you’ll be good enough as far as your friends will be concerned. Now let’s go!”
____Jaxson circled, avoiding James as he tried to force him into the vehicle. James obstinately followed, and the two circled on opposite ends of the truck as one avoided the other.
____“I wanna go back as much as you do.” Jaxson said, “But not if it means leaving Stacey to that kind of fate. You want to relax in retirement at VACC? Prove you’re worth staying there by doing the right thing, right now!”
____“Finding you is right thing enough. I’m under no obligation to do anything further.” James refuted, “I’ll take Bare Minimum for right things needed to not live in this hellhole a minute longer.”
____Bare minimum. The mindset of a man who’s given up. Jaxson understood this guy at that alone. “I’m going to rescue Stacey. I left her there.” he announced, “You need me to get into VACC, so you’ll just have to help me.”
____“God damn it.” James drew his rifle again and yanked on the bolt. A shell bounced off the road, glinting in the sun, “I found you as agreed. Now I could force you back if I have to. Hell, they might even let me in if I only bring back your corpse.”
____A bluff or a genuine threat? He really couldn’t read James: he might mean it one-hundred percent for all Jaxson knew. There was no way of knowing if he was the kind to kill for a ticket to shelter. Jaxson might be talking his way into his own grave by being so insistent for Stacey’s sake, even after finding help and hydration.
____But still.
____“Use force or even bullets if you want.” Jaxson told him, “Because I’m not budging on the matter. I left her there, I left her. I have to save her as soon as possible. It’s the right thing to do. No matter what.”
____“Boy, you’re the stubbornest…”
____“Are you gonna help me do the right thing and save the girl? Or did my friends send me a killer? I don’t know you. Are you a killer, James?” Silence. Part of Jaxson sensed that he was, even if he couldn’t put his finger exactly on it. He continued, “I know you want safety. Who doesn’t? But if you’re a good person, then please just put it off a bit longer, for an innocent girl’s sake. I’m begging you. We have to help her!”
____James sighed and shouldered the rifle again. He even bent down and picked the unfired casing back up off the ground. To save on the ammo or avoid littering Jaxson couldn’t quite tell.
____“Damn it. Okay, fine.” He got back into the driver’s seat and gripped the wheel, “Just get in and stop complaining and tell me where we need to go. And this had better be quick and easy.”
____Jaxson breathed a cool sigh of relief and hopped in, knowing it would likely be neither, “North.”

~TAF

[TGRF]

Chapter 8:

Spoiler Alert!

“That’ll do, sir.” Silvin came to her rescue

The 'sir' here is clearly just the way Silvin talks, but given that things are in a military context - Mardew literally calls Silvin 'sir' several times after this - it's a bit strange and out of place.

Again, the mention of Silvin as a supervillain, and later his clear assumptions that he's the bad guy, have me wondering. This could just be the bad guy being cliched, but I'm beginning to wonder if there's a deeper character reason Silvin sees himself this way. We know so little about him, practically anything is possible. He's a strange outlier character, seemingly designed to be the villain of TMHW but barely appearing... and now with him setting a trap for Thorn I'm sure he'll have some larger part to play. I can't shake the feeling that before this is all over he'll become a much more important character, possibly betraying Apostle or something...

Stacey not knowing if Silvin is telling the truth about Jaxson makes me wonder if this part could have been better if we had never seen Silvin let Jaxson go. Then we would be right there with Stacey, wondering if we can trust Silvin to be telling the truth, or if there's something else going on. Could definitely lend a lot more tension to an - admittedly already tense - scene.

It was difficult to serve herself her wrists still cuffed together

Missing a 'with'.

She had seen it before when he had come in, and yet not really hit her until now that he was wearing a dress.

This line could use some clarity. The fact that Silvin is wearing a dress is the main point of the sentence; it should come first. Stacey's reaction can follow. 'She realized he was wearing a dress; she had seen it before when he had come in, but it had failed to really hit her until now.' The main culprit here I think is that the 'it' is referring to a noun later on in the sentence: 'dress'. Thus, until we read 'dress', we have no idea what 'it' is referring to. Hence the lack of clarity.

I’d never be so cruel as to put you in so bleak a color. I just like a fine outfit when I see it.

Disparaging the dress and then immediately praising it seem odd back to back. Unless it's just Silvin playing mind games.

The fork in his hand twisted and turned, prodding and tormenting the lonely scrap of meat upon his plate,

Another of those little details I would never think of.

The conversation between Stacey and Silvin seems a bit off. Stacey has been painted as being well-able to hold her tongue. She even starts out by saying that it's none of Silvin's business. But after one outburst about her father, she easily starts expounding on her mother, and then everything else. It all seemed way too easy.

More than once I found myself thinking 'why is she telling Silvin all this stuff?' Quite apart from having no reason to that I can discern, Silvin is exactly the kind of guy I can see using personal details to control and torture a person, and I'm sure Stacey knows that. Why is she giving him so much ammo without any resistance? Silvin should have to work way harder to get her to say these things, but all he does is basically sit there, smile, and talk about his family.

It was getting colder again by the day, and it was making her very sleepy.

I've... never heard about cold making someone sleepy. Heat maybe...

I can't shake the feeling that something is about to drop. For some reason, I feel like some sort of revelation or twist is around the corner. There've been lots of 'complications': zombies or Apostle getting in the group's way, but so far no goals have changed; they're just trying to get back to VACC. After so many complications, I feel like a real twist can't be far off. There's too much in play to not have one soon, and I'm looking forward to it.

~TGRF.

[TheAverageFan]

Commentary commentary:

Spoiler Alert!

Originally Posted by TGRF;

Again, the mention of Silvin as a supervillain, and later his clear assumptions that he's the bad guy, have me wondering. This could just be the bad guy being cliched, but I'm beginning to wonder if there's a deeper character reason Silvin sees himself this way. We know so little about him, practically anything is possible. He's a strange outlier character, seemingly designed to be the villain of TMHW but barely appearing... and now with him setting a trap for Thorn I'm sure he'll have some larger part to play. I can't shake the feeling that before this is all over he'll become a much more important character, possibly betraying Apostle or something...

We will have to find out. I wouldn't call him the villain of TMHW (having absolutely no connection to Thomas or his story whatsoever). He is a villain, and certainly an outlier compared to the others.

Originally Posted by TGRF

Stacey not knowing if Silvin is telling the truth about Jaxson makes me wonder if this part could have been better if we had never seen Silvin let Jaxson go. Then we would be right there with Stacey, wondering if we can trust Silvin to be telling the truth, or if there's something else going on. Could definitely lend a lot more tension to an - admittedly already tense - scene.

I went back and forth a lot on whether to have that scene occur after this one. Ultimately I didn't find too much of a point to putting it that far off and preferred to keep the story as linear as possible. Also I didn't think too many readers would be fooled by Jaxson's death anyway (you know the rule—if we don't see the character die then they ain't dead). The reaction is kind of the same: "Oh, he's alive" versus "Oh, Silvin was telling the truth"

Originally Posted by TGRF

Missing a 'with'.

Fixed, thank you

Originally Posted by TGRF

Disparaging the dress and then immediately praising it seem odd back to back. Unless it's just Silvin playing mind games.

It's a fashion statement: he doesn't think Stacey would look good in black. Apologies if your theater-of-the-mind had her wearing that color all along

Originally Posted by TGRF

Another of those little details I would never think of.

I was entirely too proud of that one.

Originally Posted by TGRF

The conversation between Stacey and Silvin seems a bit off. Stacey has been painted as being well-able to hold her tongue. She even starts out by saying that it's none of Silvin's business. But after one outburst about her father, she easily starts expounding on her mother, and then everything else. It all seemed way too easy.

More than once I found myself thinking 'why is she telling Silvin all this stuff?' Quite apart from having no reason to that I can discern, Silvin is exactly the kind of guy I can see using personal details to control and torture a person, and I'm sure Stacey knows that. Why is she giving him so much ammo without any resistance? Silvin should have to work way harder to get her to say these things, but all he does is basically sit there, smile, and talk about his family.

I don't know, the idea is that he kind of gets that one thread out of her and gets her to pull it just a bit and then before you know it the whole sweater's gone. As soon as she begins telling the first details the rest comes tumbling out as she voices what actually happened to her for the first time in way too long. It's essentially the climax of a therapy session where everything breaks and comes out aloud. Ideally.

It's already a very long conversation already, anyway.

I've... never heard about cold making someone sleepy. Heat maybe...

You've never been outside in the cold and just wanted to go back to bed?

I'll likely upload Ch. 11 sometime tonight. I like Chapter 11.

~TAF

[TGRF]

Commentary commentary commentary:

Spoiler Alert!

Originally Posted by TheAverageFan

Also I didn't think too many readers would be fooled by Jaxson's death anyway (you know the rule—if we don't see the character die then they ain't dead). The reaction is kind of the same: "Oh, he's alive" versus "Oh, Silvin was telling the truth"

Very true. Taken from that perspective, I never would have thought Jaxson was dead.

I don't know, the idea is that he kind of gets that one thread out of her and gets her to pull it just a bit and then before you know it the whole sweater's gone. As soon as she begins telling the first details the rest comes tumbling out as she voices what actually happened to her for the first time in way too long. It's essentially the climax of a therapy session where everything breaks and comes out aloud. Ideally.

I kind of guessed that was what you were going for, but the text didn't convey it. There was one reference to Stacey being unable to stop herself... more of those wouldn't have gone amiss. As it is she just kind of talks to him, and we have no real indication that the words are coming out against her better judgement. Even just her trying and failing to bite them back or something would have shown better what's happening.

You've never been outside in the cold and just wanted to go back to bed?

Go back to bed, sure. Sleepy? No... I would think cold wakes most people up. A splash of cold water? A cold shower? These things wake people up, not make them sleepy. If I were outside in the cold and wanted to go back to bed, it would be because the bed is warm. To each their own though, the line just stuck out to me. If you had said the cold made Brooke long for the warmer interior of the car (assuming the heat is working), that would have made sense.

~TGRF.

[TheAverageFan]

Spoiler Alert!

Originally Posted by TGRF

Go back to bed, sure. Sleepy? No... I would think cold wakes most people up. A splash of cold water? A cold shower? These things wake people up, not make them sleepy.

That's probably because they involve being wet.

If you had said the cold made Brooke long for the warmer interior of the car (assuming the heat is working), that would have made sense.

You, you found a plot hole.

As promised here is the next chapter:

Spoiler Alert!

11
Three Talks and a Walk

i

____It was good to survive another day in this new unfamiliar environment, Brooke waking to find herself still safe and alive despite the unknown of the townspeople. She was confident that was going to be the case, more than won over of their normalcy by all she’d seen and heard last night. Only Julie Anne’s admittance of gatekeeping desperate others away from the Exclave had given her any pause, knowing it meant that they had inadvertently killed people, but she had no right to complain. People made hard choices now. She was here reaping the benefits of Julie Anne’s decision.
____One of the large houses of the Exclave had been vacant when they arrived, apparently abandoned by one of the families there who had opted to leave for a safe zone. Julie Anne had let the group stay there in the meantime, having the sudden space to spare. If they all proved themselves useful to this small society, she might have let them stay permanently if they wished. But Brooke knew they wouldn’t trade VACC for this, not when the lab was more defensible, better rationed, and kept waiting friends. This place would do in the meantime though. She had a room to herself again, a small bedroom that had once belonged to a young girl: all faded pinks and whites on the walls, pictures pinned all about the mirror on the left side by the windows. Brooke found this amusing—being sent back sixteen years lodging-wise—but also faintly morose. This room was free to use, where was its original owner now?
____Outside the door a small pail had been placed sometime in the earliest hours: filled with a limited amount of rationed-out water. Brooke rinsed and washed with it to the best of her abilities before dressing and heading out. People were assembled again for breakfast. Eggs seemed to be the main dish: an obvious source of fresh food provided there were chickens available. It was admittedly a tantalizing scent and Brooke felt the pang of greedy hunger as a result. Lots of food here: it took a lot to feed groups of people, even only the thirty-plus here. The adult fighting men had to be kept on a strong diet to keep up their work: guarding, herding, building, scavenging. It required a lot. Reliably having that much… Brooke understood a bit better why Julie Anne had been so cutthroat about how many people she permitted being here when things first got really bad. How they would manage throughout the rest of their lifetimes she couldn’t even say. How civilization had ever managed to feed its countless hosts throughout so many winters was a mystery to her.
____Even at VACC, we’re going to starve eventually. she realized.
____Could they ever recover enough to farm again, when there were still so many zombies out there to suddenly strike at any time? They would have to find some way to deal with the undead, and destroy Apostle too. Maybe in small places like this: fortified and yet unknown to the world at large, things could gradually begin to blossom once more.
____John walked up to her with a plate, nodding in greetings as he handed it over, “Morning, young lady. Appreciate the music you shared with us last night. As far as I’m concerned you can stay as along as you please.”
____She smiled, “It’s nothing. Just my one talent.”
____“It’s important, that sort of thing. You can’t imagine the awful silence of most days’ work, without the constant access to electricity.”
____“I’ll play for you again, at least once before I go.” Brooke stared down at the plate in her hands, “…Tell me, what did you do with the Apostle agent we brought with us?”
____“The what now? Oh, the prisoner. Locked him up in one of the storage sheds by Bickbee’s—by the store down the edge of the street.”
____“May I talk to him?”
____John scratched the back of his head, “If you want. He didn’t say much of anything to us. But I’ll have to open the locks myself. Follow me.”

____Close to the perimeter wall were two long windowless sheds. John led her to the second of these, in and down to the back end where a locked bolted door stood. With the jangling of some metal he unlocked it and cracked it open.
____“Scream if anything happens.” John told her plainly and seriously. She nodded.
____Brooke peered into the room, finding it dark inside save for the very faded blue glow of a light that came on when the door was opened. It was a space too big for its one prisoner, the silent soldier just sitting close to the wall and staring blankly forward at the one opposite. His arms remained behind his back, bound to a pole which he leaned against. Brooke cautiously crept in and approached. The door shut behind her.
____“Hi there.” she said quietly, holding forth the plate “I brought you something to eat. It’s stiff rationing if I split it but it’s something. Did anyone feed you already?”
____He glanced up at her, still giving her that same dreadfully strange look he’d had before. It was like he was terrified of her, despite everything she had done thus far in his favor. Brooke frowned and crouched down to him.
____“Did anyone give you anything to eat? This morning or yesterday?” she repeated, setting down what she’d brought to him.
____“No.” he finally answered.
____“Okay.” Brooke began cutting some of the canned fruit into bite-sized chunks, “Don’t worry, I did work at a hospital once: as a volunteer with the Collis Corp. health drive. You might’ve heard of it, before the outbreak. So I’m no stranger to helping feed people, even if it feels a little awkward at first.”
____He didn’t seem to really connect to her socializing: no soft chuckle or mild banter to give her. Not even a Thank You. Beyond words he only stared, “Why are you doing this?”
____“Because I want to. I don’t think any good will come of being cruel to you, or leaving you to rot or starve.” Brooke gave him the first spoonful, “And you just seemed… I don’t know… not like the others I’ve seen.”
____“Looks can be deceiving.” he said.
____She thought of him as he was before, helmet covering that sensitive-looking face, sneaking in behind her as she had played her music during the battle and suddenly holding her hostage. A commanding “Freeze!” at first, before quietly putting his gun to her back and slinking off with her out onto the street: to attempt to escape or to barter his own surrender to her victorious group. She still wasn’t certain. She could look him in the eye now, but he might be correct that his human expression could be more of a mask than the actual helmet itself had been.
____She sighed, “I know, and I expect you might never go free depending on what the others will decide. But still, even if you are really like the bad ones we’ve met, I’d still want to be kind. I think that might do more than people think, for even the worst of us.”
____“I would truly sooner be kicked and yelled at, compared to what you’re doing.”
____Brooke was taken aback, “What? Why?”
____“It makes things simpler for me. But now…” the trooper trailed off for a bit before suddenly changing the subject, “Please be honest with me… Is your name Mary?”
____She wasn’t sure what he was getting at, “No. I’m Beth. Beth Arnakis. Everyone calls me Brooke though. Why do you ask?”
____“You look so much like her. And you seem so much like her.” the young man said, “I was wondering if it was some way of tormenting me.”
____Tormenting. She wondered if he referred to the supernatural happenings: the writing on Abbey, the stove at the hotel, the speakers when Stanley had died…
____“I’m only me.” she said, “But was this girl a friend of yours?”
____He sighed, “Not really. Just a checkout girl I happened to be with when the outbreak struck. Incidentally thrown together, same as your own group I’m sure. So short a time spent together when I really think about it. I guess I never really knew her.”
____“What happened to her?”
____“She died.” the soldier mumbled, “Right before I was swept up into the Army.”
____Brooke frowned, “Not the Army. You mean…” She nodded at the Apostle emblem on his breastplate, “That Army.”
____He nodded.
____He was wretched, Brooke understood now. She shook her head in disbelief, “You joined the same people who killed her?”
____Another nod.
____“How could you do that?”
____“I just couldn’t die. They offered me to join.” he softly protested, “I was scared. I didn’t see a point in dying against them. They had another way out. They cured me of the undead and gave me safety in numbers.”
____Cured, he said. They had something, Brooke realized, recalling how the undead at the lab had completely ignored Elias and attacked her group exclusively. So Apostle was handing it out to those who’d join them. A tantalizing offer to the desperate.
____The soldier continued, “I had to do things to survive, but I did survive.”
____Just the same phrase Julie Anne had spouted, more or less.
____“Kill, I imagine, not Things.” Brooke corrected, “We’ve survived too, our group. We’re not going to let all this change who we are. We’re going to find our own way forward.”
____“Things are different at gunpoint.” the man said, “But I’m sure most of you would die before you let them change you. Not that dying proud is any different than dying cowering. You’re still just… gone. And you’d only have the cowards to keep your memory by. The rest is nothingness.”
____“There’s more to death than nothingness.” she insisted, “And there’s no guarantee that we’ll be caught in the same fate as you were. We still have a chance to make it. And if you let me, I promise I’ll do my best to change you out of whatever Apostle tried to force you into. For your Mary’s sake. What do you say?”
____“Do what you please.” he said, “I’m only waiting to be struck dead at any time for my surrendering to you all. Their cure is also a poison. Nothing gets past King, nothing. But in the meantime I see no reason not to try and do what I can to help you. If only because your kindness deserves to be preserved in all this hell.”
____Brooke blushed, breaking eye contact and looking down, “Gosh, we’ve just been talking so much I’ve forgotten to keep feeding you.”
____She got the tiniest bit of a smirk from him, “Thank you, Brooke.”
____“You’re welcome… Mister…?”
____“It’s Gauge.”
____“Gauge. Right.” With that, the two sat in silence as she gave him all she’d brought, taking less than half for herself. It was as awkward as she’d promised, but he didn’t complain.
____At last she stood and carried the plate out, stopping at the door as he said one last thing to her: “Brooke. It’s nine. You deserve to know if you’re going to keep up with this.”
____“Huh?” she looked back.
____Gauge stared at her, looking grim. “It’s nine.” he repeated, “I did keep count. I’ve killed nine people.”
____Some of the gravity of who and what she was actually dealing with hit and paled her. Nine—that was her entire current group-and-a-half of innocent survivors he alone had killed. Brooke tried to shake it off, just leaving and quietly shutting the door behind her. She left past John without a word.

____After the conversation with the Apostle soldier Brooke looked elsewhere for comfort. She would’ve ordinarily gone to Thomas, but for some reason her mind drifted instead to Louis. He seemed to naturally fall into a devil’s advocate whenever she spoke to him, and perhaps because of that she figured maybe he might be more understanding of the complexities regarding Gauge. Or he at least could perhaps better explain her own mixed feelings to her. Thomas and the others would be busy with Exclave work anyway.
____She returned to the cars where the soldiers had left much of their things and stole off with the radio, fixing it to VACC’s specific signal and awaiting a response as she went outside and sat alone in the shade between the buildings. The radio hissed with static and she leaned it against her head, eyes closed and waiting.
____Finally it cleared and answered, Louis’ voice coming back to her: “VACC-104. We hear you. Go ahead.”
____“It’s me.” Brooke said simply, “Can you hear me okay?”
____“Loud and clear, babe. You got a good signal for once. What’s up?”
____“I just wanted to report in and say that we’re on our way home. We’re safe for now, at this place called the Exclave outside of Omaha, but we’ll be leaving soon to continue the journey.” she paused, “And, well, I wanted to talk to you. I’ve made a new friend, but it’s complicated and I don’t know if anyone else around here understands it the same way I do. I thought since you’re more distant, you might understand it better.”
____She could hear his wry expression, “If it’s a zombie pet then I’m afraid I’ll have to side with the others on this one, Brooke.”
____“It could be considered half-that…” She went on to explain the situation in detail: how they had come across the enemy at Omaha and how Gauge had forfeited rather than go down with her, and the vitriol he had received despite the peaceful surrender.
____Louis listened patiently, seeming to muse on it seriously rather than trying to force jests in between her sentences. She appreciated that, and the chance to spill her guts for so long without interruption. At length when she was done he finally spoke, “It is dangerous to trifle with him, I think… He himself sounds dangerous, very dangerous.”
____“But he doesn’t seem like a fanatic to me.” Brooke insisted, “He’s not one of the ones who started this whole thing, not like the man at the lab.”
____“Perhaps not, but does that make it better? Think about it Brooke: swept in with the bad guys because of circumstance, swept out of them because of circumstance… No matter how nice he seems to become, if things get dour you can’t expect that he won’t get swept right back in again. And turn against you all because of it.”
____She frowned, “But I think I can fix him!”
____“Ahh-ah, Brooke.” Louis clicked his tongue, “But he’s not broken: he’s weak. Not everyone can be strong like you. You have a will about you. Not everyone’s got that. It doesn’t make weak people bad people per se, but it means they can’t be counted on when the chips are down. And the chips have been really down these days, as you’re well-aware.”
____Brooke sighed, “You know, I called you to cheer me up.”
____“You shoulda considered who you were calling.” he said in his more usual quipping tone, “I can put Montag on if you want generic uninspiring writer-dribble. Or Collis if you’d prefer World War facts and clueless rich-man wisdom.”
____She laughed softly, “Ha, well usually you’re trying to always be on my good side.”
____“I’m a proximity-based flirt; you’ll have to actually be here to get proper flattery.” He returned to seriousness: “Listen, you can be nice to this guy if you want to. Even do what you can to get the others off his back if you think it’s cruel. But just be cautious not to expect anything back as if it’s some long-form investment. Weak people do what’s easy: that’s being with you guys, right now. It sounds to me the way you put it that he’s not some kind of conniving super-villain just waiting for his chance. But that doesn’t mean he’s not a threat.”
____“I’ll keep that in mind, even if I don’t want to believe it.” she murmured, “Thank you, Louis. You’re a lot smarter than you let on.”
____“I’m just strong-willed like you: a stubborn ideologue.” he said, “But we can’t forget about the giant majority: normal people just wanting convenience. We want a highway, we want a parking lot, we want quick food… or in this case, we want to live. I spent most of my life protecting the planet from the quick wants of ordinary people. They didn’t destroy the environment because they were comically evil. But they are still very dangerous, Brooke.”
____She thought about it, continuing to not quite understand. There was nothing convenient about any of this, not for any of them. But she thought about the offer Apostle might give any survivors running from zombies and slowly starving as the days came and went. Food and clothes and cure and maybe even solidarity. But at what cost? They had to become killers and fight and do what was asked of them by an obviously evil organization. Who would agree to that, at the cost of their own conscience? Even if there were no soldiering involved: if one could be saved from the apocalypse and whisked off to a safe room to live in comfort, needing only to occasionally push a button in order to do Apostle’s evil… she herself wouldn’t even do that. No amount of comfort could convince her to swear fealty to the Devil. Not ever! But somehow Louis seemed to understand, or at least understood what she couldn’t.
____She sighed. She’d had her own unfair comforts at VACC, where scarcity was of little concern and there were no terrors to challenge her principles. How so many survivors would hate her if they only knew how she had it there and yet still had the nerve to lecture about how easy being a good person was. What if Gauge was right to think that there was no point in dying? He could have died with his dignity, but was that really something she could demand of anyone? As if it was no big deal? She didn’t know. She didn’t really want anyone to die. But the way he had lived… at nine people’s expense…
____“I’ll see you soon, Louis.” she said simply, not dragging the conversation much further than that.
____“Keep breathing.” he said in farewell, faint staticy voice cut to nothing as she shut the radio off.
____Brooke now sat alone for a while, just hugging her knees and quietly breathing in the cold late-autumn air. She had just for a brief time enjoyed the heat of an insulated indoor building while she slept, and now outside bit a little harder for it. If the weather turned against them it could be bad, but if there was ever a place outside of VACC to be snowed in, it would be here. She could almost prefer this place to VACC’s sterilized laboratory tunnels, here in this above-ground village where things could almost seem aesthetically normal. But she missed Abbey and Miles and the others. And she missed the comfort VACC represented. Part of her thought it was a mistake to have left there in the first place. If they had stayed they wouldn’t now be scattered, and Shelley and Stanley would still be alive, and Stacey and Jaxson would still be there. It had been for nothing.
____She thought again of Gauge. No, she told herself, it hadn’t been for nothing. It couldn’t have been. There were still pieces moving on God’s board, even if they weren’t immediately apparent with the loss of Joetex’s cure. Some unseen good would come of what they’d done, she was sure of it. It had to be.
____Feeling like she needed energy not to just slump right there in the exhaustion of lethargy and weighty thoughts, Brooke rose and left the lonely alleyway, beginning a brisk walk across town. The chilly air still bit and made her ears hurt a little, but she kept at it. The days of long walking were mostly behind her, replaced with drawn-out periods of time spent stuck in a car, and so stretching her legs seemed like a good idea. For some reason it just seemed more right than resting—despite this being a rare chance to do so. There would be plenty of time for resting at VACC, she told herself.
____The village was slightly canted on one side, being partially on a hill. It made the task more arduous, having to go up lengthy tilted paths or the occasional stair along the sidewalk. Brooke also contended with people staring at her: newcomer, stranger. Probably wondering what she was doing and where she was going. These were people who indeed found no faults in resting or hiding here in this place for as long as possible. They’d probably think it was crazy to even go to VACC despite the relatively short distance. She silently thanked them for their hospitality but nonetheless paid them no heed.
____Finally she found another quiet spot to sit and catch her breath, having walked for shorter than she’d have liked. It was an insult to the day-long marching she had done in the past, shouldering a guitar all the way no less. Right now she just seemed shorter of breath.
____Looking up, Brooke saw someone watching her. It was one of the village people: a man she’d seen with Julie Anne before, and again while she had been walking. Here he was now, having assumedly followed her. “Can I help you?” she asked him, feeling a little weary at first. But he approached casually.
____“No.” he came over but shook his head as she started to rise, seeing that she was breathing somewhat heavily, “No need. I don’t want to trouble you.”
____Brooke got back down, looking the stranger over. Like Gauge he seemed about her age—maybe a bit older—and wore all black, though they were basic civilian clothes rather than a uniform. He also had jet-black hair and dark brown eyes that seemed about the same hue from a distance. Only a speck of white shirt visible around the neck of his jumper and a silver wristwatch gave him any other color at all. It was a little too neat for her, reminding her somewhat of Elias at the lab, making her remain at least subconsciously guarded, “Were you following me?”
____“Nothing like that.” he said, “I’m just not used to new faces around here. You’ll have to pardon my curiosity. I thought I might get some news about what’s up in the outside world.”
____“The ‘outside world’?” she laughed, “I don’t know what to tell you. There isn’t much of a world left, and even at the height of the outbreak I was never made privy to much of what was going on.”
____“I see.” He sat beside her, “From the way Lt. Oakerley made it sound you all were of great importance.”
____“I guess we were.” Again Brooke sighed, “I suppose now that I think of it we’ve come across more than most on our travels. VACC and Nazar, and the Apostle lab and now those soldiers… But I’m still a long way off from the full picture. And nowhere near close to understanding the strangest things that have been happening, if they’ve even happened to anyone else.”
____“You ought to write it all down.” the man suggested, “It sounds like you’ve stumbled across a lot more than we have here.” He put one hand up to his chest, “Uh, let me introduce myself. My name is Oriel. I’m—I was—a youth pastor, for whoever’s left.”
____She perked up, “I’m Brooke. It’s good to meet another person of faith around here, in such bleak times.”
____“Hmm, maybe. But we don’t know much about each other so who can say for sure? It can be rash to assume ‘same team’ from one thing alone.” His fingers were drumming on his breast now, “Anyways, that’s one of the reasons I wished to speak with you. I was wondering what it was like out there.”
____“What do you mean?”
____Oriel elaborated: “I find time to be more threatening to faith than ordeals. I’ve done all I can here for this flock, and feel a little pent-up because of that. Like maybe I could do more good work abroad, but not if it means leaving to immediately choke to death on zombie fumes. There wouldn’t be much meaning in that.”
____“I don’t know. There haven’t been many bombings that I know of since the outbreak, but there’s no shortage of zombies even if they do seem scarce around here. And now there’s men like Gauge around too…” Brooke shook her head, “But I don’t think there’s any shame in dying to doomed expeditions. There’s no way of knowing what’ll happen, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try. Going out there, trying to do good, trying to convince people of good… it’s always a gamble. But even if it doesn’t work out, it’s the act of trying that really matters I think. God wouldn’t think of you any less for trying and failing.”
____It occurred to Brooke then that she was answering her own doubts about Gauge. It didn’t matter if he’d be a good guy or not: the principle that she alone tried to help him knowing he might still be bad was what counted. She felt stupid for not realizing that sooner.
____Oriel nodded at her words, “I see now that we are on the same team, Brooke. As iron sharpens iron, so a friend sharpens a friend. Knowing each other for two minutes and you’re already wise enough to be throwing fire under my feet. I’ll give it some thought.”
____He rose and walked off. Brooke wondered if he would do what he said, or if he’d mull it over back to inaction and remain here in this place. Inaction… and time being more dangerous than ordeals, he had said… Brooke mused on it. Maybe despite the failure it had been good that they had left VACC to find their answers rather than wait on Nazar and the government. Maybe it would actually be bad to get back home and just stay there for good this time. And maybe it was a good sign that she had chosen to go for a walk rather than stay slumped there in her fatigue, rather than give in to inaction, complacency, convenience.

ii

____It was dark out by the time the two would-be rescuers made it back to the facility. Lights were on up there, brightly illuminating the otherwise pitch-black dark of the empty landscape. Jaxson nervously gulped and nodded, “That’s it right there.”
____James pulled over on the spot, not looking too enthusiastic himself, “Sh*t. Okay.”
____He got out of the car and, taking his rifle with him, cautiously approached through the darkness. Jaxson followed. He hadn’t gotten the best lay of the land when initially escaping, only wanting to get out alive before the zombies caught and ate him. He’d given it no thought on the way back, and knew nothing about the layout of this place and how to best attack it. He had no plan.
____There was a soft rise in the terrain ahead, which James pressed down against. Prone, he crawled his way up and peered over the edge, looking through his rifle scope at this place he’d been led to. Jaxson stood next to him, certain that he was hidden in the dark and being more wary of sudden zombies showing up.
____He could see the lights on in the office way up at the top, where they’d been kept before. Stacey was still up there, he figured or hoped. Down below were the still-working troopers, patrolling or corralling the horde present there. He could hear the faint hissing of heavy machinery. Was a train there right now? It was best for them to work at night, he assumed.
____“What have you brought me to?” James asked as he watched, “This place is crawling with zombies! How are we supposed to get even remotely close?”
____“I got out.” Jaxson explained bluntly, “We can get in.”
____James gave him a scowl, “You never said this was some kind of military compound.”
____“It’s not.”
____“There’s guys with guns, like military-grade guns.”
____“Those are bad guys.” Jaxson said, “They have Stacey in there, somewhere. Silvin only cut me loose to bring Thorn over to fight him, but I’m not gonna wait that long. He won’t expect me to be back so soon. We’re going to save her ourselves.”
____“I’m only one man.” James peered through the scope, watching, “How come the zombies aren’t mauling them? They’re right next to each other.”
____It hadn’t occurred to Jaxson. But if they were Apostle, it’d make sense that they’d be impervious to the undead, “They’re part of the group that caused all this. They must’ve found some way to render themselves immune.”
____“They have a cure?” James perked up. Again Jaxson couldn’t quite read him, sitting there in silence. Whatever his conclusion, James shook his head and changed the subject, “Look, there’s no way we can get in there. I’ve got one gun with five bullets and they have who knows how many guys and a giant army of zombies.”
____“We’ll have to come up with something.” Jaxson said.
____“I’m all ears.”
____“...um…”
____James sighed, “This is suicide. Even if we’d gone and got help at Omaha this would be too tall an order. This girl has my condolences, but honestly at this point screw her.”
____Jaxson saw him begin to get to his feet, knowing that was a sign of resignation and panicking, “No! Wait! We can’t leave!”
____“Why not?”
____“We have to help her. It’s the right thing to do.”
____James frowned at him, “You keep saying that. Where’s this blunt, binary morality coming from? If I’m going to risk death over it then I ought to know, yes?”
____“My Dad. He showed me that there was never an excuse good enough not to do the right thing. And he stood by that—no normal, halfhearted, hand-waving ‘be good, everybody’ fluff most people skirt by on, only when convenient.”
____“A real saint, eh?”
____“He lived by his rules and stuck to them, no matter the personal cost.” It was difficult to maintain eye contact talking about it, the ground being easier to stare at now, “No matter how bad things got… He knew that earnest goodness would always be rewarded in the end. And he expected me to be no different, once he was gone… So, so we have to try, try to save her. We can’t just see how bad it looks and turn and sulk off.”
____“Hm.” James mused on all his words, “Sounds to me like your father was a fool.”
____Jaxson reeled, “What?!”
____“Do the right thing no matter what, be good no matter what, you’ll be rewarded… what a bunch of crap.” James calmly elaborated, “I’m willing to bet nothing came of any of it, and never would have even if there were no zombies. Taken advantage of, to the bitter penniless end, I’d wager.”
____“My Dad—!”
____“—was a chump. I’m not mocking you, I was the same way once. It’s all flowery code for toe the line and do everything as expected of you. Act with humility, even as you’re stepped on, and don’t stir the pot. You’ll be rewarded, doubtlessly, if not now then in the next life surely. People actually believe this stuff. This is how they get men to permit their own oppression, how they get ordinary soldiers to participate in suicide charges. I pity them, but they are fools, and I’m not dying just because they were earnest ones.”
____“You’re a coward!” Jaxson accused.
____“And you’re a sucker. I’m sorry but that seems to be the case.” James turned to leave, “I don’t know what kind of survivor’s guilt you’ve got, but it’s not worth me dying over. I’m not going to get swept up in your sad mandatory morality. Nothing forces you to do the right thing, life’s more complicated than that.”
____“Some things aren’t complicated.” Jaxson said, “You’re going to leave her to die.”
____James glanced over his shoulder, the faintest hints of a smile visible in the dark, “Now I never said that. But if we’re going to help her, we’ll have to do it in a smarter way. I say we go back to Omaha—that’s where they told me to bring you—and see if we can call in the cavalry. There’s supposed to be an army base there.”
____It sounded like a nice promise: rolling in to rescue Stacey at the head of a line of army tanks. Jaxson could picture blasting one of those damn helicopters out of the sky himself. But it was a little too nice for his liking: a poisoned promise with a catch of some kind. He just couldn’t guess it right away.
____“How long is that gonna take?” he asked, “And will anyone even still be there? The original plan was for the rest of my group to meet up at Omaha and go to VACC from there.”
____James didn’t have a solid answer, having never been there himself. “It’s better than nothing.” he said, “And it shouldn’t be too far. Not too far I don’t think, anyhow…”
____He was losing Jaxson, “How long do you think Stacey’s got? I’ve taken too long to get help already, and Silvin gets bored real easily I’m sure. If it takes too long to get there, and to deal with whatever comes up in the way…”
____“Yeah, yeah. Time to get there, assemble, and get back. Provided they even agree to it. Maybe’s every way I look…” James muttered. He glanced west, “Hmm. I do have one other idea, though it’s as stupider as it is closer than Omaha. Terrible, terrible idea. But possibly the fastest Maybe we’ve got.”
____“How fast would it be?”
____“If it works, we could attack tomorrow guaranteed.”
____“Hmm…” Jaxson mused, reflected, and mused some more. He didn’t like not knowing the plan, having this James character being the one to figure out the rescue rubbing him the wrong way. But that was a selfish kind of ownership of what was right, and he had no claims to it. If James really was good… if he was… then any way of rescuing Stacey was the right one. So be it. He nodded his approval, “Okay, I’m in. Lead the way.”

~TAF

[TGRF]

Chapter 9, and thoughts so far:

Spoiler Alert!

I do apologize for the slow rate at which I'm reading. However, the extra time has allowed me to ruminate on why I'm taking so long, and I think part of the issue has to be chalked up to the chapter length.

There's certainly something to be said for the simple knowledge that I can knock out a short chapter in under 20 minutes. It frees me up to read whenever I want, squeezing in chapters here and there and ultimately reading a lot more.

These chapters take a long time to read. I know that sitting down for a 'session' will take a significant chunk of time (usually around an hour for me, and I don't consider myself a particularly slow reader).

I would be curious as to why you've made the chapters so long. Some of them have excellent points where you could break, and if not, there's always the cliffhanger approach. Obviously TMHW also had long chapters, and there's something to be said for maintaining continuity, but I'm curious if there's another reason you went for long chapters.

Commander Grimm giving a quick salute

You'll have to remind me of the difference between Grimm and Tandom. I had completely forgotten about Grimm until now, but I remember him being mentioned somewhere early on in TMHW... wasn't he another military commander in there with Tandom?

She watched the Director warily as he glanced down to papers out of sight, continuing: “And I wanted to make sure

From my own writing, I've noticed that if there's a big gap - say a paragraph - between the start of someone speaking and the continuation, especially if they continue with a conjunction like 'and' or 'but', it really helps to repeat in some fashion what they said. I would have had the Director mutter, mostly to himself, 'Much to discuss,' or 'Many matters' or something similar, before diving right in with 'and'. As it reads, I had to glance back up and find the start of his dialogue to remember what he was talking about.

Nazar gave them all a really? look, rising from his seat,

This might just be me, but I had been visualizing Nazar standing until this point. Grimm 'walks him over to his seat', but it seems like without a clear indication that Nazar actually sat down, I don't assume he did. Again, this might just be me, but I thought I'd mention it.

If I could only command loveless, obeying machines who did their jobs in this war without wants or spinelessness or any other of the filthy human traits tearing us all down…

... Are we sure Nazar didn't start this plague himself?

Lastly Nazar, do you have any updates on the cure progress with your VACC personnel?”
“No, but I will have it soon if all goes well. Very soon.”
[...]
You were in charge of all Apostle information prior to the outbreak.

See previous comment.

As they parted ways the two exited the building and headed to the car

Obviously this is referring to Nazar and Lavender, but it just read a little off, because Lavender wasn't part of the conversation. It was two men talking, then they part, then it says the two headed to the car. I would have specified Nazar and/trailed by Lavender.

That if nothing else could be a blessing were she to somehow escape.

Took me awhile to figure this line out. The comma is your friend, use it liberally.

She put them back.

Or she could break the bottles and, you know, use them as weapons. No telling when a single hidden shard of glass could come in handy...

They were somehow corralling the monsters, guiding them in a slow sluggish pace out into the dark, prodding stragglers back into the mass as if they were ranchers herding cattle.

The phrases 'out into the dark' and 'back into the mass' seem to suggest opposite directions to me. I assumed they were keeping the zombies in one big pile until you mentioned containers.

He cares and protects only in relation to what I threaten.

Kind of a strange thing for Silvin to say, when it's the zombies who have been threatening people. Silvin's only shown up for a single chapter a book ago, and otherwise been completely absent. He can hardly take credit for starting the outbreak, even if he is a terrorist, so either he's completely delusional or just trying to play with Stacey's mind. Likely both. But I feel like Stacey should be able to spot that as an obvious falsehood.

Fiction, where there can be a god holding the pen: ensuring all things serve a purpose, people can be complex, and everything makes sense. And when they don’t we the audience are allowed to complain, knowing we innately should have the right to.

Why do I feel like this is included to cast doubt on people like me who expect to find meaning and depth in everything I read... wait, I've fallen into the trap...

But Silvin head heard.

Had.

As Silvin ranted and monologued behind her

No, Silvin! Don't fall into the stereotypes again! Fight them!

You continue to manage to explain things without actually explaining anything, so kudos there. I keep going back and forth on where Nazar actually stands in all of this, and what part Silvin is ultimately going to play. The fact that we're spending more time with Stacey than the group right now makes me think that Stacey will be having repercussions from her time here... but I can't guess how they might effect the outcome of the zombies.

~TGRF.

[TheAverageFan]

Spoiler Alert!

Originally Posted by TGRF

I would be curious as to why you've made the chapters so long. Some of them have excellent points where you could break, and if not, there's always the cliffhanger approach. Obviously TMHW also had long chapters, and there's something to be said for maintaining continuity, but I'm curious if there's another reason you went for long chapters.

Basically I wanted the story to have a relatively similar number of chapters compared to TMHW. If that had 26 chapters and this had 68 chapters it would be strange. That is however why I included the chapter breaks. Were you to only read and provide feedback for each half of a chapter at a time, that would be fine by me.

Originally Posted by TGRF

You'll have to remind me of the difference between Grimm and Tandom. I had completely forgotten about Grimm until now, but I remember him being mentioned somewhere early on in TMHW... wasn't he another military commander in there with Tandom?

Comm. Grimm and Gen. Tandom are both military leaders. The only thing you'll really need to remember is that the Commander outranks Tandom. He's the very top of the military food-chain.

Originally Posted by TGRF

Why do I feel like this is included to cast doubt on people like me who expect to find meaning and depth in everything I read... wait, I've fallen into the trap...

I'm not meta-trapping you It is merely a reflection of how Silvin sees the world, saying these things can exist in fiction implying that he doesn't think they are so in real life. I suppose it is meta in the sense that his "real life" is in fact fictional...

Originally Posted by TGRF

You continue to manage to explain things without actually explaining anything, so kudos there. I keep going back and forth on where Nazar actually stands in all of this

Wether Nazar is good or evil is TBD (and I expect a lot more waffling back and forth on this matter as we go), but as shown in this chapter he definitely despises people. A "miserable misanthrope" as Mr. Blake calls him.

You caught me as I was uploading, so here is Ch. 12 as well:

Spoiler Alert!

12
Escape

i

____Silvin wouldn’t be there for most of the day it seemed: off to “report in” somewhere. Stacey didn’t have long to act on it. She stayed in the restroom, stuck there hoping what she had done would pay off. She hated having to do it, teasing these monsters with herself, disgracing herself just to live. But the self-loathing part of her knew that better women than her had done far worse to get by.
____The soldiers had to have known that Silvin wouldn’t be there. Some of them had to be dumb enough to cross him if they thought they could get away with it. There was something going on between them: they weren’t the same as the men he’d had before, and he didn’t seem to trust them one bit as a result. The animosity would be reversed, hopefully. Silvin was plenty loathsome—understatement of the century, that—but almost more importantly he wasn’t like them: they would be wary and distrusting of him for that most of all.
____Sure enough hushed footsteps eventually approached her door, followed by an unnerving rattling at the locked handle. Even expecting and banking on it Stacey startled at the noise of someone trying to get in. Quiet voices bickered behind the shut door.
____“This is a bad idea. It’ll be alarmed for sure.” whispered voice one.
____“To hell with it.” voice two answered, “He’s not here. And he’s breaking the rules, keeping someone alive who’s not gonna join. He shouldn’t get to keep her all to himself just because he’s in charge. I didn’t join to see that kind of ‘rules for thee’ bullsh*t again.”
____“But if he’s talking to the big boss we’ll see how long that lasts.” came voice one’s reply. There were only the two of them it seemed, “He’ll have to kill her for sure once he gets back.”
____“Or they’ll kill him instead, if there’s any justice in the world. I didn’t join up to take orders from a man who shaves his legs and wears a dress.”
____“I would’ve gone with not taking orders from a psycho killer, myself. I don’t like working with terrorists.”
____“Either or.” voice two muttered, “But if what you say happens, then she’ll be dead by tonight. The orders are the orders, and even Silvin has to answer to them. Nothing gets past Number One, that’s clear as it gets. So let’s do what we can for her between now and then. It’s clear she’d rather be with anyone else.”
____The first voice laughed, “If she’s gonna die I’m sure this b*tch would at least like some better dick than Silvin’s before going.”
____They were having no luck with the lock, so violent banging soon came through instead. Stacey sat there, occasionally flinching at the noise, just hoping that she could use this dangerous ploy to her advantage. They seemed to think what she wanted them to: that Silvin was hoarding her for personal pleasure and holding her over all the other men as one of the privileges of being high-up the ladder. He was using her for personal reasons, true, but it wasn’t what they thought: Silvin being interested solely in picking apart and tormenting her mentally, rather than seeing that she was female and then thinking only of how he could defile her. At least he could keep that impulse in check.
____These two would assumedly be the reverse. Any dialogue concerning who she was or how she was feeling would be nothing more than small talk on the way to between her legs. If there was small talk. If they simply barged in and raped her then it would all be for nothing. She needed them to at least pretend to be civil, as most men did when trying to get what they wanted: needing to come across as kind or funny or charismatic or whatever would get the job done. Ironically the kinder these two would be—the less blunt and vicious they were—the worse things would ultimately go for them. For even if they were genuine to the core she planned to kill them and escape. It was almost, almost worth pitying.
____At last they managed the door, light spilling into the room and momentarily blinding her. Stacey shielded her eyes with her hands, covering her face and using that opportunity to mentally prepare herself and whatever expression she would wear to greet them. She would be acting from here on out.
____Two black silhouettes stood at the doorway when she looked: a pair of soldiers still armored and covered head-to-toe as always. They both had guns.
____“W—Who are you?” she asked them, her trembling nerves making shakiness easier to feign, “I heard voices but couldn’t make out the words.”
____“It’s okay.” the soldier on the left—voice one—told her, “We’re here to help you.”
____The one on the right stepped forward, “We saw you yesterday. We thought you might appreciate better company while Silvin is away.”
____Voice two. His tone was one of attempted assertiveness, and Stacey could tell it wasn’t his usual. She decided to roll with it, “Thank you…! He scares me, starves me. If he finds out you’ve come here to talk to me…”
____“I won’t tell if you don’t.” the trooper said, “Don’t be afraid of him. Now come on, get up! You ought to stretch your legs, being cooped up like this.”
____He grabbed her and hoisted her up, Stacey stumbling a bit at first as she was yanked to her feet. Her skin screamed against his touch, and her stomach turned and twisted in anxious terror. Tell him to let go, let go! she heard in her head over and over again. But she knew if she freaked out they might freak out and everything would go awry. She kept her composure, channeling all the anxiety into fear of Silvin.
____The soldier pulled her out of the bathroom and into the ugly metal hall. He noted her handcuffs and reached down, “Let’s get those off.”
____That was one hurdle easily overcome, Stacey almost let herself think. But the other soldier grasped his friend’s arm before he could do anything further, shaking his head. That one was still wary. She knew now that he had been watching her intently from under his helmet’s visor, studying her for any signs of trickery. If she went too fast with this charade, he would notice for sure. He was going to be a problem. The handcuffs stayed on.
____“How long will Silvin be gone?” Stacey asked the soldiers.
____“I don’t know.” the closest one said, his hand still on her arm. His grip was tight and the discomfort of it felt like burning, only slightly stifled by being gloved, “Come on. Let’s go to the barracks.”
____“It’s too far.” the other soldier reminded him, “We can’t leave this building. One of the others might see us. I’m not getting reported or blackmailed into sharing.”
____“But this place sucks. It’s all metal and ugly.”
____Stacey chimed in, subtly guiding them, “Silvin’s office is nicer. It’s just down the hall.”
____“You wanna use his office?”
____“He’s not here.” she said, “And besides, I won’t tell if you don’t.”
____She could barely detect a smirk under his mask, recognizing her echoed quip. He turned and led her along, pulling her into that same office she’d been in the two nights before. There was still not a speck of food in here, though the empty table and chairs in the center remained. Through the big windows behind the desk at the far end she could see the genuine time, and it was darker than she would of liked. They must have taken a long while working up the nerve to come after her. How long Silvin would be gone at this rate she wasn’t sure.
____The soldier leading her now walked to the windows, looking down and nodding his approval of the view. “It’s good to be up here.” he said, “On top of everything.”
____He took off his helmet now, revealing an ugly face with patchy stubble. As if checking for an immediate reaction, he turned to her and studied her. Stacey maintained no expression, not wanting to put him off. His being ugly was no big deal to her, after all. The only thing that got her was that he looked about her age. They could be classmates in a normal world, but now they were here in this factory, in this apocalypse, and there was a mountain of difference in their power now due to their circumstances. She almost wanted to reprimand him for it, but forced herself to smother the urge.
____“I’m Michael, I guess I should say.” he said, pointing to his comrade next, the wary one: “And that’s Jason.”
____“Stacey.” she replied in kind, “Thank you for letting me out.”
____“We figured you deserved to be treated better.” Michael set his helm and then his gun on the desk. That was the firearm taken care of, Stacey noted, though he still had a combat knife sheathed in his vest. She made mental notes of both weapons’ locations. He stretched and looked around the room, “And maybe we deserve better too. Look at all this sh*t he’s hoarding for himself.”
____He was eyeing all the booze on the shelves, pacing along eyeing each bottle. Stacey watched him. “He wouldn’t let me have a drop.” she told him, “Not even to numb the pain.”
____“We don’t get any of this either.” Michael admitted, “Not while we’re stationed here, anyway. I didn’t join up for the sobriety.”
____“Do you wanna have some fun?”
____“No.” Jason said sternly. He sat in the corner, gun laid across his lap. He was still watching her, “He’ll notice if you take any, Michael.”
____“Screw him.” Michael replied, “We’re already breaking rules. We’ll just have a bit. Just a drink. If he does notice he won’t know which of us did it. Which do you want, Stacey?”
____Stacey looked about the room, finally finding the bottle Silvin had been using in their previous conversation. There was his mistake, she suddenly realized. He’d played his hand to her last night but then put that bottle of false alcohol back on the shelf rather than destroy or empty it. Now she could play the same trick, having nothing while these two drank the real thing. She nodded, “That one.”
____He took the chosen bottle, clear fake vodka swishing around within as he brought it over to her. For himself Michael chose a large case of ugly brown bourbon. He took some tiny glasses from the shelf and poured shots, stopping to smell his open bottle, “Ah, smells expensive. That’s some good sh*t right there! It’s been way too long. Cheers!”
____“Wait.” Jason said. He had watched Stacey reach for her shot, and it’d been too quickly for his tastes. He stood, “Make her first shot be one of yours. Some of the bourbon.”
____“What for?”
____“In case it’s poison. Because she’s been up here before and we haven’t.” he looked around him, “This is Silvin’s room, and he’s full of tricks.”
____He was half-right. She did intend to feign drunkenness in order to invite the same out of her guests, then escape with relative ease. And for all she knew some of these were poisoned; one was fake so others could be different as well. Stacey watched somewhat tensely as Michael poured out a serving of the bourbon and slid it her way. It was a tall double-shot, nearly full to the very tip of the shot glass, and it reeked; she could tell even from here. She’d never actually drank anything this potent before, not beyond a curious sip here or there once a year.
____“I’m not like Silvin.” she told Jason as she picked up the shot glass, “I don’t repay generosity with poison. Here’s to his not being here, and to my rescuers’ kindness.”
____“To Silvin’s not being here, and to you Stacey. Cheers!” Michael raised his glass and downed it, overcoming it with a single gulp, a twitch, and a breathed-out “Ah…!”
____Stacey drank, feeling Jason’s eyes on her as she did so. The liquid was burning and dreadful, groping at her tongue and throat as she tried to swallow down both shots of it. But she had nervously held the glass at a low angle, and because of that it didn’t all come in at once. That tiny cup seemed to hold an ocean, and she could see it gradually dwindle down as she tried to take it at once. She had to take it: the less confident she looked downing it the harder Jason would look on at her in suspicion all night long.
____It stuck in her throat. Just down it, she told herself, no different than drinking medicine not to her liking when she was small. Don’t be a baby and just drink it.
____It was down. Stacey coughed badly as if she were going to retch, struggling to regain control and composure. She was supposed to look natural drinking with these two. At last she sat back up straight, gasping out words, “Oh…! Awful!”
____“It’s nice and smooth.” Michael told her, already pouring another shot, “I don’t know how you expect that cheap vodka to taste any better.” He turned to Jason—now curious—coming close, “Here, try some of this.”
____“I… prefer vodka.” Stacey checked the bottle, “This brand of vodka.”
____“Well you drank some at all, that’s the important thing.” Jason said, loosening his mask down and sampling the shot handed to him, “Mm, that is smooth.”
____All Stacey could see of him now was his clean-shaven jaw and big lips. She didn’t like not being able to see his eyes still, but he was at least not glaring intently at her anymore. He seemed slightly relaxed, but he wouldn’t take more than the one shot and was soon back in the corner close to his gun. She instead kept working on Michael who was keen to keep drinking despite his claims to only have a bit. Even this early on he was noticeably louder. She repeatedly poured shots of the fake vodka and kept up with him, though even the flavor put on the water was enough to make her flinch at the smell of it. The disgust helped her act as one continuing to drink, and she mimicked Michael’s increased volume and movement, and laughed at what she was expected to of what he said. Mimicking Silvin’s feigned inebriation the night before.
____“You all seem nice.” she finally said to him, “How did you end up with Silvin?”
____Her question didn’t seem to raise any suspicion in Michael. He guffawed, “Hell if I know! Our group just ended up assigned to this junction. But Silvin was there, and now Mardew’s gone, so it’s just us and him now.”
____Stacey tried not to shudder, “And how did you end up with Mardew?”
____“I just… got swept up.” Michael paused for a bit, and his glance seemed to waver and look elsewhere beyond her. The alcohol had made him very happy, and now it made him very sad, “They gave me a cure. I didn’t know what was going on in all this, running around like a chicken with its head cut off. And then this army showed up, and offered me a chance to help them. And everything cleared up.”
____“You really want to help these people?”
____He mused on the question for a bit, “I’ve always had bad genes and been a little reclusive. Nobody ever lined up for the chance to be friends with me, or do anything with me. So when things were normal I just mostly sat there, watching other people live their lives, waiting for my chance to join them that never came. I got older, things got worse, waiting for that window of opportunity. No one ever gave me that chance; they always got uncomfortable or needed to leave whenever I joined in on anything. I got used to being excluded I guess, that was just going to be my life forever.” He wiped his nose, “And then everything just ended out of nowhere, and suddenly nobody could live a normal life anymore. Everything was ruined for everyone, everyone excluded from everything, all torn apart from each other. And I just couldn’t believe how happy I was. All I needed was some immunity for myself, and my story could finally begin. I sure as sh*t wasn’t gonna get it from the government, but then Mardew and the others came, offered me their cure if I joined them, and so here I am. I don’t have to be afraid of the zombies anymore, afraid of other people anymore. I’m finally here, with all these others who are just like me, save for that damn queer.”
____He meant Silvin. There was no shortage of venom in his tone, and Jason certainly didn’t leap to defend their leader. They did not like him at all.
____“He is evil.” Stacey agreed, “But isn’t everyone here a terrorist?”
____“We’re not terrorists.” Michael said like an innocent man falsely accused, “We’re ordinary civilians. We’re just incidentally in this organization, because they cured us from the zombies in exchange for joining and helping them. We’re not bad guys. But Silvin’s been bombing and killing way, way before the outbreak. He’s a terrorist.”
____Knowing that she couldn’t seamlessly jump through so many hoops to convince herself, Stacey didn’t bother arguing the point further. She instead followed the cure thread: “Could I get a cure? If Apostle has one of their own.” She stumbled over her words a bit, having told more than she was meant to know, “I mean, if they’re handing them out to civilians.”
____“I doubt it.” Jason said, “You have to join to be cured. And it’s King’s blood… I think it’d only kill you. Mardew said it never takes the girls, and because girls don’t join he always makes us kill them all, sad to say. You can’t join, not genuinely, not that I’ve ever seen.” He shrugged, “Why else would Silvin keeping you here be so controversial? Why do you think he hasn’t given it to you already?”
____It offended her: “Just because I’m a girl you won’t help me? I’m the same age as you, no different than you—yet I’m kept locked up and uncured, and you’d just shrug at this?”
____“Sure will.” he told her dismissively.
____She scowled at his nonchalance, “Where’s your empathy?!”
____“What do you want me to do about it? A nice pair of legs like you’s a hot commodity in this environment, but King’s blood kills girls and that’s all there is to it. That’s your lot. Whether I care or don’t care doesn’t change a thing.”
____Stacey shook her head, frustrated, “I can’t join Apostle and I can’t safely leave here with all those zombies down below.”
____“You wouldn’t be allowed to.” Jason said.
____Michael could see that she looked sad, speaking up: “You don’t have to feel like a prisoner here, not if you don’t want to. It’s true that we couldn’t save you from the zombies if you went down there, but we can still visit you often, whenever Silvin’s not here.”
____She again fell back on their distrust of him, “Yes, yes as long as he’s not here. He frightens me and hurts me. He doesn’t treat me right at all, and he gets so violent and jealous when he’s drunk. He’s just jealous of men who aren’t so insecure as he is.”
____Michael—seeming inebriated at this point—hit the table, “He has no respect! Anyone who gets like that just can’t take their liquor. Damn lightweight I bet. But no one here’s gonna hurt you, I promise. We’re good people.”
____“Thank you. You are good friends, and better company than him.” Stacey forced herself to put her hands on his, “Promise me you’ll always come back.”
____He smiled clumsily, trying to interpret what she was saying to him. Stacey gave him her best bedroom eyes, herself trying to gauge if she was moving too fast or not. Jason was watching, after all. She didn’t want to come on too strong and give away the act, but she also didn’t have all night to work on these two (and hated doing so anyway). Michael she assumed wouldn’t know the right pace either. Haste wouldn’t give up the game on him. And this was his only chance. She was young and pretty and grateful and desperate under the heel of a strange man he hated. She would give anything to be with anyone else, even him. She would gladly accept him, and would like him and serve him. He’d had his incidental little revenge on the world, and this time he would get the girl. It might be his last chance to do so.
____“Promise…” Michael grasped her hand in his and looked into her eyes: gaze intermittingly dropping down and up again in awkwardness. He leaned forward with his other hand out, slowly reaching to her. He was being gradual, not quite sure of which pace would be best, still partially nervous to the idea. Heart pounding with dread-addled anticipation, Stacey waited for him to get close, to lean over-forward out across the table and expose himself, which he soon did right as his fingers neared her.
____Now!
____Just then she lashed out, yanking her hands out from under his. She lunged forward and drew the combat knife from his vest, turning it upward and punching it right into his unprotected throat. It hit him right beneath his adam’s apple, piercing his flesh surprisingly easily and diving in deep. Stacey pulled hard and wrenched it back out, blood spilling out from the gaping wound in its wake.
____“…!” Michael gasped out in shock as she did so, trying to say words but only blood coming out instead. He still reached groping for her, fingers hooking the chain of her handcuffs. Stacey stood and tore herself away fiercely to get back. She had expected him to collapse and die outright, but he had a lot of bleeding left to do even with his throat punctured. He tumbled over in his chair, practically turning the table with him, making gargling noises and staring up at her with a mouth full of blood and eyes full of sad shock. His hand still reached for her even as he lay there. Part of her wondered if he even processed that she had stabbed him.
____There was no time to dwell on it. Jason got to his feet right away. He saw what she’d done and immediately reached for his gun, picking it up and aiming right for her. Stacey didn’t linger long, turning and bolting for the door to the catwalk outside: the one she’d seen Silvin use when “disposing” of Jaxson. Automatic gunfire followed her out, Jason chasing and spraying bullets with reckless abandon. He was right on her, sprinting after her and rounding the corner to shoot her down as she fled.
____This was the part she had planned for the most when contemplating her escape. Instead of running panicked out into an open field to be shot like a turkey, Stacey had turned the corner and immediately pressed against the wall, hiding behind the opened door. Expecting her to flee terrified and without thinking, Jason came along aiming down the catwalk outside and advancing deftly forward. He quickly saw that she wasn’t down that way, but by then she was already behind him.
____Stacey leapt onto his back and began repeatedly plunging the knife in and out of him. Stabbing and stabbing as if she were a genuine prisoner with a makeshift shiv. Jason shouted and fired his gun aimlessly as the blade punctured him over and over, ramming his back against the wall to try and dislodge her. But she held fast, weathering the streaks of pain running hot across her back with each forceful impact against the metal.
____Don’t you let go!! Her mind screamed above the pain, clutching him stabbing again and again, Die, die, die!
____Jason’s gun fired off repeatedly into the air, the soldier clenching the trigger tighter with each stab she put into him. She had lost count of the number of wounds now, and he was still standing albeit staggering. Stacey was certainly the knifing expert of her old group, having killed several zombies by stabbing their rotting bodies until they gave in. Sometimes it took a while, and Jason was fully alive as well as armored. But the added resistance only made her fight harder to be free of it. She wanted out of here.
____Finally her foe gave in, muttering uncreative last words, “B*tch!!”, before falling to his knees and keeling over to bleed out in exhaustion. Stacey collapsed on top of him, gasping for breath and trying to recover quickly. The hardest part lay ahead still: there had been gunfire that would draw attention she didn’t need, and from here on out she had no familiarity with the layout of the place. Clumsy improvisation would be her only way forward from here.
____Stacey stood, struggling at first to separate herself from the corpse under her. She unfortunately remained handcuffed, leaving her hands pinned under the weight of the dead soldier. Squirming her way free without losing the knife in him took longer than she wanted; already there was commotion below. Stacey looked for a way out. Jaxson had somehow escaped from here, and so she followed the catwalk quickly.
____Being outside made the path to freedom more apparent. At the end of the walkway there was a ladder down to a second catwalk. That path led further along to another drop to the ground below. There were no shortage of zombies still in the vicinity even that far out, but that was how it would have to be. Stacey climbed and then leapt down, shrieking as sparks lit up around her. BANGBANGBANGBANG!!! They were shooting at her from below, at least two guards she could see having spotted her already. She bolted for the exit, hoping the darkness of night would help hide her.
____Zombies swarmed beneath her on the ground below, sensing her life and being drawn into a frenzy by the spilt blood and loud noise. Stacey ran faster.
____The tower at the end of the catwalk drew near. The ladder was attached to its side and it was no short way down, being twice the length of the previous drop she’d taken. Stacey cursed the need to slow down, not wanting to come all this way just to break her legs in an overeager leap and be devoured alive on the spot. She grabbed the ladder’s side in her linked hands—unable to spread her wrists wide enough to grab both ends—and slid down as best she could. It was old and metallic and rusty, and she tore her palms badly. But it was faster than she could climb down. She’d take tetanus over a zombie bite.
____BANGBANGBANG!! BANGBANGBANG!! More gunfire tore holes in the tower above her as she went down, sparks and metallic dust showering down. The troopers after her were bad shots compared to Thorn. They couldn’t possibly be as well-trained as one would expect of men in uniform.
____“Stop shooting you fools!” she heard one of the soldiers shout, sprinting after the others still giving chase. He didn’t stop just to lower their guns, racing after the zombies as well, “Silvin wants her alive! Hold the zombies back before they kill her!”
____They were too few to corral the mobs of undead efficiently, not when they were riled up. Being now low enough to drop, Stacey leapt from the ladder and landed hard. Almost instantly a zombie was upon her: a spry withered husk that was little more than a skeleton. It rammed her, teeth biting already mid-lunge. Stacey fell, only just barely managing to catch its gaping mouth with the links of her handcuffs. Her knife she drove into its ear. Unable to wrench it out to stab again while holding it back the way she was, Stacey just twisted and moved the blade around in its head, until at last it cut something important enough and the body went limp.
____An ordinary girl nearly a year ago would be crying and blubbering at this point as they tried to push the rotten corpse off of them, but Stacey was already numb to it. Her only panic would be death or recapture, and as such she hastily bucked off the zombie and got back up to flee the rest coming her way. There was no shortage of the undead close behind her now, and all but a few were runners.
____“Hold them back!” Apostle soldiers were amidst the crowd, rifles raised and shoving like riot cops with batons. But they couldn’t stem the tide. One shouted above the din, “Someone go get her and take her around!”
____Stacey wasn’t waiting for any of that, leaving them to their impossible task of dealing with her, the zombies, and their orders all at once. She ran, thinking only of how fast she could go without tripping and falling upon her knife. It was hard to do so while bound: even just her arms being the way they were impacted how she could best sprint. She felt ill with the smell of blood and the nerves of this most-important instant of her life, and of the alcohol still in her belly, sickening her liquor-wise virgin senses.
____She didn’t dare look back, even as the screams of the undead faded slightly behind her. There was no hope of outrunning them: even if they proved slower they wouldn’t stop while she would eventually tire and die. She didn’t know what to do about that. All she knew was that there were still zombies behind her, and a vast open field before her, and that she had no direction or makings, and that she had no plan from here on out.
____More than ever Stacey appreciated Thorn and Header’s presence in her group: how there had always been people there to protect her and the others, and to prioritize their safety, and to guide and direct them wherever they went, be it to the obvious sanctuary of VACC or the foolishness of chasing the cure to that godforsaken lab. Most people out there were probably like she was now, alone and unarmed and directionless. She knew this kind of survivor rarely lasted long. And she knew why there were so, so many zombies. Because most people like this didn’t have a chance of making it longer than a week, if not a couple of days. If not hours. She fled.

ii

____Alex Silvin found himself striding through twisting organic tunnels and out into the shining light of a vast golden hall. He didn’t care much for the sharp contrast between the fleshy breathing former and the over-extravagant latter, finding it bizarre. But bizarre he supposed was fitting for his boss’ lair: matching both his own spotless aesthetic and the ugly moaning monsters that came from his blood.
____How this realm came to be or where exactly it was Silvin didn’t know. He almost assumed King had somehow spawned it from nothing, finding that easier to believe than the idea that anyone had actually built this place. Whatever the case, it was real.
____Silvin found Elias waiting for him down the hall as he entered. The man’s right arm was in a sling but other than that he was normal: all clean and combed and coiffed, blonde in black, bowing only slightly to his guest and turning to walk alongside him, “Silvin.”
____“Babyface.” Silvin replied in kind, keeping up the brisk pace, “It’s been too long since I saw you in person. That is if you’re actually here. Or am I for that matter? I can never quite recall until I wake up afterwards.”
____“You were summoned.”
____“Good, good. I assume King is here? I understand he wishes to speak to me, and I with him if I may be frank.”
____Elias gave him a mild frown, “Any business you’d like to take to Lord I’d prefer you give to me instead. I see no need to disturb him directly.”
____“And have you deliver my words through a soft-spoken filter? You’d rob me of all urgency of the matter.”
____“You’ve been sluggish yourself.” Elias paused their walk, forcing his way in front so the two could look eye-to-eye, “You’re aware nothing escapes him, surely. He knows about the girl. That you’ve kept her alive.”
____“Don’t call me Shirley. And is that really all this is about?” Silvin asked, “Can’t a well-known celebrity have his groupies?”
____“I know that’s not what’s going on. …You had groupies?”
____“Loads.” Silvin put his hands on his hips and chuckled, “I’m a Type. They all totally knew how misunderstood I was.” He looked Elias up and down, “God, I hate to imagine how many you would’ve had if only you’d operated openly before the outbreak. Sensitive, fey, Barbie-lookin’ bastard…”
____“‘All too often Pity is saved, only for use on the Depraved.’” Elias recited. Silvin shrugged and shoved his way to continue striding forward. Elias followed closely to walk alongside, cutting back to the chase: “You have to kill her, Alex. Apostle won’t tolerate keeping survivors for personal use. You caused enough damage before: taking so long to toy with that Corporal that enemy personnel caught up to you and torched all of our expensive aircraft. I won’t risk one of our transport facilities with you doing the same all over again. That personal baggage should be left behind, it does no good for anyone.”
____Silvin’s loud laugh echoed down the halls. He bit the knuckle of his thumb to stifle the chortling, “How rich: that I the cruel psycho would be the one arguing to preserve the life of a sweet innocent girl, against you the kindly inoffensive gentleman.”
____“Innocence is a deeply flawed concept. And even if she were somehow faultless, you have only a tormentor’s mercy so let’s not act like this is some kind of do-gooder’s competition.”
____“Damn, Elias. Perhaps you aren’t so soft after all! Here I thought you didn’t have the capacity for all this dirty work.”
____He took on a somber look, “Don’t think I haven’t given all this every single thought that could be thrown at it. My sorrow has become cold and measured in all the time that has passed. I knew the costs of bringing Apostle’s goals to life, weighed all the shed blood, vicious anarchy, and dead children it would cause. I accept it all.”
____Silvin whistled, “And all that under the courteous conscious you pretend to have. You are loathsome!”
____“All people are. We’re here.” The two turned a corner to a tighter corridor. The ceiling was lower here, rendering it darker, with gold double-doors halfway down the hall on the right. Elias put his hand on them as they came up, halting one last time, “Are you certain you must bother him?”
____“Does the idea of me speaking to your master par nous-mêmes bother you so much? King’s the one who called me here in the first place. Besides…” Silvin nodded to the sling, “I don’t think you’re in any condition to properly lock horns with me. Didja do that to yourself trying to shoot someone, by the way?”
____“No. Very funny.” Elias finally relented, “Be careful. He has less patience for smartassery than I do.”
____“I was this close to being named Alec.” Silvin said, with the slightest bit of a showman’s bow.
____Even as he put one hand on the door to proceed, Elias called out, “Silvin, wait.”
____“Ugh. What now?!”
____“You’re bleeding.” Elias parted one of his long golden locks aside and pointed to the ear that lay beneath.
____Silvin mirrored the movement and felt his own lobe, finding smeared blood on his fingers and scowling. “That’s nothing.” he said bitterly, “Forget about it.”
____“If you say so. Take care of yourself.” Elias backed off and Silvin permitted himself entrance, opening the great doors and going on ahead.
____He went in.
____A vast open room greeted him: more detailed and ornate than even the ones previous. The ceiling remained low at first as Silvin walked forth: a balcony above being the only other way into this place. But soon the true ceiling was high above him:
____An immense pattern of curving weaving arcs of gold faced down from up there: like a rippling sea of serpents frozen mid-writhe together. Amongst the patterns were engraved many phrases in giant letters: THERE IS NO LIGHT. THERE IS NO VIRTUE. THERE IS NO SALVATION. THERE IS NO GOD. THERE IS NO LIFE. And so on. Silvin wasn’t one to be bothered to read them all.
____At the far end of the room was a similarly decorative wall. Upon this was carved a giant turning dragon, face down upon the globe that bore it: an enormous version of the Apostle insignia. Save for one detail: set into that chiseled symbol was a gigantic hourglass. A pond of what looked like blood sloshed about within both ends of it, pouring from top to bottom in rather random bursts rather than a consistent pouring, only ever steadily dripping at most. A rather unpleasant thing, gross and inconsistent, Silvin thought. What purpose it served he couldn’t begin to guess.
____The walls to the right and left were flat and gladly featureless, though they were lined with tall grandfather clocks: erect and arranged all too neatly like an army of upright coffins. They all mindlessly ticked in perfect unison and provided the only noise in the entire massive chamber. It was an atmosphere Silvin disliked: feeling like he stood in the gold innards of a giant metronome.
____There in the very center King sat upon a gray featureless stool. His back was turned, focused only on a pair of opened laptops arrayed on an equally featureless little stand to his left. It seemed odd to Silvin seeing such a creature as King on a computer, but that was how they had first met—online. To his right stood some kind of IV stand with multiple thin hoses wired to the man, silently drawing his blood to fill some bags while others administered unlabeled drugs back into him. His right arm was outstretched to feed it, tubes disappearing between the plates of the armor, and was the only part of him Silvin could see that wasn’t obscured behind his long pale hair or that vast cloak of such intricate design—patterns without meaning. The clicking of typing was hidden under the ticking clocks all around.
____Silvin only approached enough to get out from under the low ceiling of the balcony above, pausing there and putting his hands on his hips, calling out, “King! I’m here!”
____No reply.
____“Yo boss man!” Silvin said loudly, not liking to repeat himself, “You called?”
____The head only turned a tiny bit, not enough to give a speck of face Silvin’s way.
____“Be silent for a little while.” His deep voice was low but could still be heard above the clocks, seeming to silence everything under it even at such a volume.
____Now Silvin scowled, tapping his foot and saying nothing only for a few short seconds. He didn’t care for the silent treatment one bit, speaking his mind plainly: “This routine might work on your own minions, but I don’t have the time or patience to be jerked around like this just to establish dominance. You called, I’m here. Hello?”
____No answer.
____“Ugh.” Silvin drew his pistol and fired. The blast echoed horribly in this place and the shot rang out as if striking a wind chime as it ricocheted off of King’s armor. The bullet marked a streak of imperfection as it dug into the floor. Still receiving no acknowledgement, Silvin fired again: this time aiming true and shooting his boss through the back of his head, knowing it wouldn’t hinder him. Blood splattered across the golden floor, the bullet continuing onward and this time marring the thick pane of the hourglass ahead.
____That he did not like. King stood. The blood tubes hissed and fell to the sides of the IV.
____“That’s better.” Silvin said, still continuing to fire even as his boss turned and deftly approached, “Yeah, here I am! May we speak now?”
____King moved faster than he seemed despite never breaking into a run, taking shot after shot without flinching. Just as Silvin became uneased at his approach and took one step back, it became too late. King’s vast gold and violet cloak parted and there was a flash of silver. A feeling of lightning striking ran up Silvin’s shooting arm as the limb was smote: King’s sword was drawn, glistening with blood where he had struck just past the elbow.
____Silvin hadn’t expected such vengeance, screaming as he saw his own arm fall to the floor and flood itself in blood. He staggered back in shock, “What have you done—?!”
____King didn’t remain still, ducking down and slashing a second time. All his superhuman strength was centered on the thin cutting blade, driving through flesh and bone without difficulty. Silvin was relieved of his left leg and fell. His shrieking echoed through the enormous chamber, seeing his severed leg, finally drowning out the ticking clocks:
____“My beautiful body!! What’ve you done?! Put it back, put it back!”
____The metal of King’s boot stilled his writhing, Silvin forced to pause as the very tip of the sword was put to his forehead: just enough to draw the tiniest bit of blood. King stared him down and spoke again:
____“Be still and put out all thoughts of bargaining.” he said in his booming yet monotone voice, “I would kill you for your sin of Trifling were you not of some small use against my enemies. You will do as I command. All living things must perish: those not under my banner departing first.”
____“I’m… never… going to die…!” Silvin managed to mutter, even now still viciously willing himself to endure.
____“Have you forgotten the pact we made? My blood remains in your veins. I will give you what you desire, but only if you serve me faithfully. Wake and kill the girl without delay, then be patient and remain at your appointed post. Or else risk the withdrawal of my blessing from your blood.”
____“Okay!!” Silvin gasped, “Okay, okay!”
____The sword drew back, “Stand.”
____With one last shriek Silvin sat up, staring maddeningly down at himself and finding both arms and legs again. Not a scar or speck. It would be as if it hadn’t happened at all, were it not for all the blood still pooled about him on the golden floor.
____He looked around in wonder only briefly, hating the feeling of awe, scrambling to snatch his pistol back up and standing, “What did you do to me?”
____“I showed you only a glimpse of your fate.” King explained inexplicably.
____“No, no… I’m never going to die…”
____As Silvin backed away to leave he saw Elias approaching. He had peeked in upon hearing all the shooting and screaming, and now saw the blood on the floor and still-knitting bullet holes in his master’s face. He scowled as he strode forth, “What did you do?”
____“Just a spat, darling.” Silvin muttered. Elias’ scowl redoubled and he quickly drew one of his guns and pointed it to Silvin’s head, perfectly eager to kill over any slight against King—waiting only for a go-ahead. But Silvin just shrugged at the weapon prodding him, already recollecting some of his nonchalance, “Careful, Babyface. Are you sure you can hit me from such a distance?”
____“Mockery is only charming when you’re alive, you know.”
____“He may go, Elias.” King said simply.
____Instantly Elias relented, “Yes Lord.”
____“Toodle-loo.” Silvin quickly took his leave, wanting nothing more than to escape back to that dreadful factory where he wouldn’t have to think much about what had transpired here. He didn’t want what King had said to have any time to sink in.
____Elias sighed and walked to his master’s side. King said nothing and simply wiped Silvin’s blood from his sword. Even that little movement was a blessing: just the tiniest bit of human motion to give life to his form. Otherwise he would be perfectly still—not breathing, not blinking, completely devoid of the subtle mindless movements or twitches a person would have that were taken for granted—motionless as a picture, or a corpse. Dust seemed to avoid clinging to his pallid skin, leaving him perfectly blank save for the blood still splattered on him now. It made one want to glance aside or avoid prolonged eye-contact, subconsciously knowing what it was looking at wasn’t natural. Even Elias still hadn’t mastered that subtle feeling.
____“I don’t trust that one.” he said, speaking still of Silvin, “He remains obsessed with his past, and no good comes of that. It will continue endangering operations in the area. It happens to be where the objects of his obsession are right now, just our luck.”
____“The lie of luck is Silvin’s greatest trick.” King corrected, “He asked me to station him somewhere in America where he would cross paths with Christian Thorn. He said this in jest, not believing my power, but I placed him thus nonetheless. It is his initial failure to slay that foe that ails us now.”
____“If Alex is to be believed those two failing to kill each other is nothing new. Luck or no, it would still be best to move him somewhere far away, I think.”
____“Soon enough, once our forces have been appropriately rearranged.” King answered, “I need another fit lieutenant in the region. Hold out your arm.”
____Elias stepped close, leaning out with his slung, useless limb. From King’s cloak came an armored hand, grasping him tightly and painfully. Elias cried out in sharp agony and then was suddenly all right, wondering for a moment what had been causing the distress. He stood upright and found the cast shattered open and his previously-injured arm spotless and functional. Every bullet that young man at the lab had put in him was just gone without a trace, as if he’d never been maimed at all.
____“Incredible…” he marveled, “Thank you.”
____King seemed to think nothing of it, turning away, “I will be relying on you and those under your charge greatly in the coming days. We have struck the first blow, and now our enemy the world is gathering all its strength to regroup and steady itself. You must interfere with their every move. There can be no counteroffensive.” His eyes fell on the hourglass, watching the blood sputter down the pinch, “The undead can only apply an outside pressure. Inside they will be concocting plans.”
____Elias shook his head, “I can’t help but imagine that your brother will be at the center of these plots. He’s somehow managed to worm his way into the upper echelons of my country’s government. Too many humans already escaped destruction on Day One because of his machinations. He’ll remain our biggest obstacle, I’m sure of it.”
____“I will deal with him.” King dismissed, “His ploys and minions you may destroy, but Nazar himself… you will leave him to me. No harm must come to him until I say otherwise.”
____“Hmm.”
____“It will all be over soon, Elias. Ending nears every day. The spilt blood calls it closer. Nothing my brother does will stop that. Think of it: an end to the Noise. The beginning of an unending silence.”
____Elias had remained looking displeased with the strange order against killing Nazar, but he didn’t protest and was at ease with King’s words. He had the utmost trust in his leader’s plans, shared or not, and wouldn’t dare question any motives or methods. As long as everyone was dead when all was said and done, he would be satisfied. And in that regard, there was no one he had more faith in than King. They would all perish: even Silvin, even Nazar, and then the Great Suffering would give way to a new lifeless universe. A peaceful dream.

____Meanwhile Silvin sat up in bed, suddenly back at the factory. He didn’t feel well-rested and took a moment to recollect everything into a fitting order. Right, he hadn’t actually been there in person, of course. And the orders, yes. The absolutism of them had been thoroughly established.
____A pointless show of power. he grumbled to himself, Bastard, jerking me around to show that he can. But he’s right about the pact with Apostle.
____He had been slipping. Taking more than he needed for fun. It was clumsy of him. Silvin stood and readied himself, taking his Desert Eagle and loading it.
____The door to his room was tightly locked and couldn’t be opened, but he didn’t use it. A side panel by the bed wasn’t bolted in correctly, and could be opened if pressed. Silvin did so, squeezing into a cramped metallic crawlspace where there was more room than needed for the pipes running through it. Being slim and spry, he squirmed his way through before slipping out into the hallway, bypassing the locked door entirely. Making sure no one was there first of course. Such was the way he did many things: in secret methods known only to him, never as expected, infuriating and confounding those out to get him.
____He cocked the pistol in his hand. There was no choice but to do things as business demanded this time. Kill Stacey, say nothing clever or profound first. It was a boring way of doing things—indeed the way Vigil or King himself did—but it had to be done.
____Silvin found the restroom door open and empty. He turned and immediately checked his office, seeing it trashed and shot up with one of his skeleton crew sprawled dead across the overturned table. The side door was open with a second Apostle soldier lying slain on the catwalk, stabbed to pieces.
____All was in disarray below: the zombies frenzied and scattered across the landscape, with only a few troops there to corral them back to where they belonged. And Stacey, well maybe that was her, a tiny speck on the black horizon running and running to evade the mob of undead shambling after her.
____Silvin watched, cackling, bursting finally into laughter. Life was certainly funny: that he should get to have it both ways. Now that he was forced to kill her he couldn’t, and now she could certainly still double his chances of Thorn coming to get him. He could thank her himself, but only if she was stupid enough to come back with the Corporal.
____“Let it not be said that I did not try!” he shouted, “Your troops, Elias, not mine!”
____His laughter filled the air as the set sun’s light gradually diminished completely.

As always lets me know what you think.

~TAF

[TheAverageFan]

Time for the next chapter, also a slightly shorter one:

Spoiler Alert!

13
Failed Saviors

i

____Stacey ran and ran and ran, even as she gasped for breath and staggered and stumbled in exhaustion. In the monotony of the desperate chase terror began to creep back in upon her, Stacey finally stealing a glance over her shoulder. The herd after her had thinned considerably, though there remained at least twelve zombies still giving chase. One soldier was behind them, still some distance off. His equipment made him slower than the rest of them. His gun was raised, as she could hear the distant Pops! and Caps! of occasional gunfire her way. Dirt kicked up close by her; he was trying to hit her legs.
____It was later than Stacey would’ve liked when Michael and Jason had taken her to Silvin’s office. By now it had grown terribly dark. She had raced through fields and sparse forests and fields again, never managing to lose the undead hounding her. Throughout it all no source of light came to her rescue, save for the moon which was mostly obscured by clouds tonight. By this point all was mired in the blackness of dead night, and she was running blind. The undead didn’t require light, and she was beyond exhausted.
____BANG!!
____Stacey’s luck finally ran out. Part of her calf burst with blood as a bullet grazed it, and she stumbled and fell on her face. The trooper behind her, his flashlight the only source of light, jogged up and casually gunned down the remaining zombies. One still managed to reach her, falling on top of her mouth agape.
____“No!!” Stacey screamed, catching it with her knife and stabbing and stabbing it until it too was blown away. The soldier approached, gun barrel smoking, shoving the zombie off with his boot. He reached down to her, the flashlight attached to his weapon blinding her. Stacey gave him about the same reception as the zombie: flailing at him with her knife and screaming all the while, “No no!! Don’t touch me you bastard!! Leave me alone!!”
____She cut his gloved hand and he shouted in pain, kicking at her before stooping to try and hoist her up again, “Shut up! Stop struggling!”
____He grabbed her tightly and whirled her around, yanking her close and holding her knife hand securely. He held her like a meat shield, suddenly glancing around in the dark.
____“Don’t touch me, don’t touch me—!!” she shrieked repeatedly.
____“Shut your mouth!!” the soldier snapped, “Listen…!”
____Stacey paused if only for a moment. They were alone in the dark, in a vast field with only the man’s flashlight giving any source of visibility. But there was something audibly out there, a revving. A motorcycle or some similar bike. It was getting closer.
____Then it stopped.
____“…” the soldier glanced around, shining his light in the dark and backing up slowly.
____BANG!!!
____His light betrayed him: the man’s shoulder exploded into chunks of flesh and shattered armor as he was shot in one of the few places where Stacey wasn’t held in front of him. He released her and staggered back, falling into the tall grasses of the open field. Stacey fell with him, leg still shot. She didn’t punish the soldier any further now that she was free, instead crawling away and trying to escape into the dark. Anywhere but here.
____The soldier sat up and shone his light, firing blindly. But again another gunshot rang out, this time punching into his armored breast. Blood sprayed out.
____From the darkness came a man with a rifle, rugged and weathered and covered in rags, deftly running up to his victim. Seeing that the soldier was still alive, he began relentlessly beating him down with his gun over and over again, finally stooping and drawing a knife to finish his work as a hunter would to his game. Gurgled, bloody, unintelligible words came from the trooper as he was gutted and killed. Stacey kept crawling. There was the shooter, she tried to find his bike.
____It was somewhere not far off in the dark, its stripped-down metallic body glinting in what little moonlight there was. She crawled over, forced to be gradual in her sorry state. Her whole body felt in agony and she struggled not to cry out in pain or even just grunt or exhale sharply to placate it. Pain would have to wait, she wanted out.
____The man was over the dead soldier’s body still, patting him down and sorting through the many pockets and patches of the Apostle uniform and armor. He now stood, picking up the trooper’s gun and checking it all over. Apparently displeased with its ammo count, he discarded it carelessly and strode back to his bike. Stacey was climbing up it as he came over, looking back and paling at the sight of him seeing her.
____“Thank you for saving me.” she whispered, but desperation showed plainly in her sorry unconvincing voice, “I—I kept your bike safe.”
____The man just guffawed loudly at her words, beginning to unravel the rags piled high about his neck and face. Patchy stubble and a smile greeted her, as if to prove that the laugh was genuine. Stacey took this as the beginnings of undressing and flinched violently, cowering before him. But he just laughed harder, walking around to the other end of the bike and stowing his rifle upon it.
____“Didn’t I say that you all were bad luck?” he said, “Didn’t I? Goddamn hell, Stacey.”
____He doffed his goggles next as he spoke, and finally Stacey could barely make him out in the dark: connecting the voice to the face. Of all the chances, of all the rescuers, it had to be Reed.
____“…You?!” His presence gave her more energy, suddenly flustered to have appeared so terrified of him.
____“Hahah, me!” he said, repeating her in a mock tone, “‘Thank you for saving me! How can I ever repay you?’”
____Stacey exhaled a sigh of relief, then drew in a deep breath, collecting herself back into some semblance of what her peers would expect of her.
____“Where’s everyone else?” she demanded, looking around the dark, “Did Jaxson…?”
____Reed shrugged, “Sorry to disappoint, princess. It’s just me. I bailed right after the car wreck, wantin’ to avoid any further disaster. That big broad pale bastard gave chase to me—and only me—just my luck! But Reed on his lonesome is quick as a whip, so I gave him the slip eventually. Never didn’t have it.”
____“Him…?” Stacey paused, thinking of what Silvin had said. The big boss, whoever he was, whatever he wanted…
____“I was free after that.” Reed continued, “God it’s good to survive alone again. No movin’ slow waitin’ on others, no rationing everything out, no arguin’ or debating or hesitating. Got this here bike, got out all alone with clear skies and smooth sailing ahead far as the eye could see. But of course here you are now, pullin’ me right back in. God, it’s only been a few days.”
____She scowled at him, “I’m so sorry to have inconvenienced you!”
____“Don’t get b*tchy; I’m just reminiscing.” He stood with a small bottle taken from the bike, tearing its cork open with his mouth, “I’m still gonna help you. Hold still.”
____Without asking permission he sloshed the liquid within generously over her wound. It burned and she screamed at the unexpected flare of pain, “Ow!! That’s hot! Stop it!”
____“Shaddap, I’m helping you.” he replied, taking cotton and tape and binding her shot leg, “I am trained for this kind of thing, after all. This is a baby wound. A body shot would’ve been something, not that you’d ever know.”
____“Ow… ow…! It doesn’t feel—” Stacey gave up her complaints halfway, changing the subject, “Where’s everyone else? Are they all okay?”
____“Don’t know, don’t care.” Reed stood, noticing her cuffs and setting to work on those next, “Omaha maybe? But I ain’t goin’ back that way.” He fiddled with the locks using a bent piece of wire, moving quickly and inventively. The handcuffs finally released her and fell into the grass. Reed spat which apparently was a sign of success and gestured to them, “Do you wanna hang onto those, Sugar? They could be fun.”
____She slapped him, “Do you have any idea what I’ve just been through?! Of course you don’t! How could you? How could you ever? You selfish lout! You pig!”
____Now he flinched like a baby, shouting, “Christ lady, okay okay! Can’t I just say anything to anyone anymore? As I was saying, I think it’d be easier to keep goin’ east an’ go straight to VACC, honestly.”
____“…I guess…” Stacey sighed, worrying now for Jaxson. She didn’t want to leave him behind, but she had no clue where he was or where he’d be going. There was nothing she could realistically do for him, “Whatever, just get us far away from here. They’ll come looking for me and soon.” She had planned to somehow sabotage the helicopter before sneaking away, but that chance had never come. They needed to get moving.
____“Great. Perfect.” he muttered, “All right. Hop on and hold on tight. We’re outta here.”
____She obeyed, cursing the pain and the cold the escape had suddenly brought with it. But she had made it. And when Silvin would see how she did it he’d have a hard time escaping the blame, having given her all the pieces she needed himself. Let him brag on that, she thought as Reed ferried her off and away.

____It was black and windy out that night, better seen from the comfort of a window. Cpl. Thorn peered out into the dark, finding it almost strange again to be in a building and higher than the first floor—a granted place of living that had been gone for a while. The last time he could think of it was that hotel they’d sheltered in on the way to VACC, where they’d stayed in from the rain and where Stacey had encountered that haunted oven banging at the door. What an event that had been…
____Now he couldn’t not think of her again, mind filled with doubts and worries of where she might be in that world outside the window. Freezing or starved or dead or undead…? He could feel his chest panging with failure again, torn apart by replayed scenarios that always came about when he couldn’t pull these things off perfectly. Why hadn’t he gone back for her? Her and Jaxson both couldn’t have been far from the wreck, and yet he’d chosen to lead his gathered group away rather than circle back around or better comb the immediate area. Were they killed by one misstep?
____Header could practically hear him brewing on such things merely by looking out a window, knowing him better than anyone. The Sergeant sat on the bed, chuckling to himself as he checked and rechecked all his ammunition one bullet at a time, “What’s nagging ya, kid? You always find a way to squander a good chance to relax.”
____“I don’t do well sitting around comfortable.” Thorn told him, “I’m worrying about Stacey and Jaxson. We left them behind. We were going to task Oakerley’s men with helping but never did. I could’ve, should’ve done more.”
____“Meh.” Header grunted in a tone that could easily have been misread as dismissive, “You was the one that pulled us out of the initial collision. You knew it was best that we stayed in a group then.”
____“People are allowed to change their minds about things.” Thorn said, breaking away from the black window and pacing about the firelit room, “I should have left to go find them myself a long time ago.”
____“Kid, don’t. We’re real close to VACC. It’d be real unwise to splinter off now. Wait ‘till we’re at the lab, wait ‘till these civvies here is safe, then we can go out an’ look around like James is doin’.”
____“I don’t know why we let Brooke send him out like that. There’s no way he’s going to find anything.”
____“I ain’t quite sure of that myself.” The Sergeant finished his count and began cramming bullets back into their magazines.
____“It’s just that until we get to VACC, every single second counts. I just couldn’t bear it if Stacey were hurt or killed because of me.” Thorn paced by the open door, seeing someone down the hall and subtly startling at the idea of a sudden uniformed intruder. But it was only a tall mirror there reflecting himself. He sighed, “…Even if it’s through inaction. We have to do everything we can, no matter what.”
____“Kid, breathe.” Header bluntly ordered, “Don’t feel so bad jus’ cause you got a roof over yer head for a moment. Riled up folks make bad decisions, ‘specially soldiers like you.”
____Thorn was surprisingly quelled, huffing out a little chuckle, “Heh, soldiers like us, don’t you mean?”
____“Naw, I don’t make bad decisions.” The Sergeant stood and shrugged, “’Cause I don’t git riled up, now do I? Level heads an’ all that. Now come on son, it’s past yer bedtime.”
____Diffused with humor… the nerve of this big guy. Thorn softly laughed again, “Aye sir.”
____They had already stayed too long for chance’s sake. Tomorrow would be VACC for sure. Anticipating this, he turned in. Ready to see what the next day might bring.

ii

DAY 5

____It was a terribly long drive throughout the night. The repeated bumping and thudding of the motorbike had made Stacey feel more sore than all the days of sitting stuck in that restroom, and she could do nothing but hold onto Reed and be cold. It had to be done if they were to escape beyond that awful place’s reach for good.
____At last Reed pulled over and stopped, having paused at a curve in the road atop a slight hill. He glanced skyward, “That should be far enough. God only knows what hour of the very morning it is. We’ll stop here.”
____“About time. My butt hurts.” Stacey complained, dismounting the cycle and watching Reed walk it down the slope. There was a tree down there: decent cover and an immediate if temporary escape upward should any zombies show up in the night; he leaned the bike against the trunk and began snapping branches from it. She followed and watched.
____“I didn’t exactly expect passengers.” Reed told her as he worked, “And I certainly covered more ground on my lonesome. Dig a hole for me, will ya?”
____Stacey kicked at the earth, finding it cold and hard. “It’s not very diggable.”
____He scowled at her, “Well ain’t you back to your regular self already! Then just sit there and keep complaining while I do all the work!”
____“You were just saying how great it was to be on your own, where surely you did all the work yourself anyway—so there shouldn’t be a problem then! Ugh!” Feeling frustrated, probably because of the cold, she began pacing, “It’s freezing. And dirty. I haven’t gotten to shower in forever. And they took my bag… I haven’t even been able to brush my teeth in days.”
____“Nothing but the essentials for you.” Reed spat as he ducked to the ground, digging a rough ugly hole with his hands, “Dammit… I got some jerky in the bag you can eat. I had an apple earlier, that’s nature’s toothbrush. Live off the land, I say!”
____“I don’t think it worked.” Stacey wandered over to the bike and searched for the promised food, “Where’d you get all this stuff?”
____Apparently satisfied with the pathetic little bowl he’d dug out, Reed began piling in the snapped twigs and trying to light them. “There was some kid along the road with the bike.” he said as he worked, “I just talked him into handin’ it all over, with some help from my rifle. Hope he hasn’t starved since then.”
____“You what—?!” Stacey whirled to face him, but he was waiting for her with a knowing smirk at the ready. She breathed out sharply, flustered, “Not funny.”
____He nonetheless cackled, “You only asked ‘cause you were waitin’ to jump on me. I’ll just say the person who had it didn’t need it no more. For the rest of the loot, I know how to forage off the beaten path. This area’s deserted as all hell, but it hasn’t been savaged quite so bad as the denser places. And the hauls sure last longer for one man over the whole group of us before. I even got some excess fuel won’t fit in the tank. Hand it here.”
____Stacey held the strip of jerky she’d found between her teeth and searched further, finding a small sloshing red plastic canister. She handed it to Reed, who cracked it open and splashed a meager amount over the smoldering sticks. They flared and burned, Reed handing the can back and glancing grimly skyward. The clouds were thick and dark, but there was still a faint light penetrating them.
____“The moon’s full tonight.” he said, “Whenever it wants to be, feels like. Be on your guard.”
____Stacey paused at the sudden ominous revelation. The strange happenings had subsided when they had reached VACC and stayed there. But they hadn’t stayed gone for good. Thinking about it made it feel certain to happen once more, and she felt very exposed out here in the open. There was nothing but open fields in all directions, offering no corner to back into. She knew the moon hadn’t been full when she had fled the factory, yet now it was. Something was going to happen.
____“Let’s get to sleep.” she said, wanting again for daylight.
____The wind whipped up again, becoming rather fierce now and threatening the fire which offered little warmth in so sorry a state. Stacey nevertheless stayed close to it, still cold in the wind and being without good clothes for the weather. She shut her eyes for a bit, hoping to wake up to the sun she had missed all this last day. Morning couldn’t come soon enough.
____There was a faint droning sound around them. It was happening.
____Reed reached and pulled her to him, hunkering down right by the fire even as she squirmed against his grip, “Don’t move. Stay real close together.”
____“Why?!” she protested, hating being so close to him.
____“Because it’s my turn tonight. Hold tight.”
____Stacey forced herself to regain some semblance of composure and looked out into the dark. Where Reed was staring she now saw someone out there: barely visible and painted a dismal blue under the mostly-hidden moonlight. It was a young woman, hair and dress flying in the wind. She did not appear infected, though she looked deathly pale and her wrists were generously stained with black.
____“Who is that?” Stacey asked simply.
____“It is nobody.” Reed told her, “A deceiver. We shouldn’t pay it any mind. Don’t say anything, don’t let me say anything.”
____“Reed!” the woman out there called, “What are you doing out there, Reed? I’ve been trying to find you for so long.”
____He said nothing. The woman wavered as if walking, but if she was she didn’t get any closer—still just barely at the edge of the complete dark.
____“I woke up under the ground.” she said, “Where are Mom and Dad, Reed? Where did they go? Why are you covered in blood?”
____The droning worsened. Now Stacey clutched at Reed’s jacket, holding firm to him despite her earlier protests. His expression was blank but she didn’t know what he might be thinking right now, and so made sure he didn’t budge from that spot. She didn’t want him wandering out there into the black oblivion, where he’d doubtlessly never return, leaving her to carry on all alone out here.
____“Reed, why are you acting this way? It isn’t like you…! Why won’t anyone talk to me? I’m cold. It’s cold out…” The lonely figure out there was wandering now, never nearing, coming in and out of the perimeter where she could only just barely be seen.
____Stacey watched Reed watch, “Are you okay?”
____“It’s nothing.” he assured her, “I’m only p*ssed off at the insult of it all. This is his doing: Him. I’m sure of it.”
____Him. Again Stacey saw the stranger at the wreck, sword drawn, Jaxson on the ground bleeding and screaming. Him…
____“Reed! Reed!” the thing out there wailed, “Why are you being like this? I’m sorry! I regret doing what I did! I’d never have done it if I’d known you’d never talk to me again. Just please, please comfort me! Tell me everything’s going to be okay!”
____“It doesn’t feel the same.” Stacey whispered, thinking of his lifeless eyes glaring at them all: possessing only the spark of unchanging, malicious indifference, “Silvin said he would just kill me if we met again. This is different somehow. Mocking, twisting the knife.”
____“Maybe. But if they really want us all dead, they’d use every trick in the book to do so.” Reed finally broke the glance and looked down to her, “Try to get some sleep. One of us ought to keep watch anyway, in case any zombies wander by. They can be awful quiet, the shambling ones.”
____Stacey doubted him, “You’re really going to stay up all night long against this?”
____He huffed, “If I slump over asleep it oughta wake you up, yeah? So don’t worry. I’ll stay up.” He looked back out into the dark, “I have to make sure she doesn’t come closer.”
____Stacey could still see her moving out there, on the cusp of visibility. She shivered and reluctantly leaned on Reed, hoping they wouldn’t fail each other. It felt strange, counting on him. But she did anyway, letting herself steal some of that horribly necessary guard-lowering unconsciousness.

____Jaxson did not like the direction James had taken him. Westward felt like backward to him, and he remained antsy to help get Stacey out. It was unknown what James had planned, the rescue being entirely in his hands now, and Jaxson remained uncertain of his new ally. He didn’t like not being in control, not contributing anything, in this sort of matter. Maybe that’s what Gene had been talking about so long ago: about having to rely on everyone else being just as sour as having to do everything yourself. Or something to that effect. But Jaxson remained shot and maimed and tired, and his way forward to Stacey had been soundly rejected. So the ball was in this stranger’s court now.
____They had both slept in the car during the night, making sure to have put a good distance between themselves and the facility. Since then they had been driving all day, stopping twice to circumvent wandering hordes of the undead. It was rare to see them in such numbers out here in these open empty farmlands; they could only be migrating to the factory.
____Jaxson watched as they slowly circled past the second pack. “I hope whatever help you’re bringing will fare against all these.” he said.
____“It should. Lots of firepower, and distractions while we slip in and fetch your friend.” James answered, “…But only if it works.”
____“That’s the second time you’ve made this plan of yours sound ominous.”
____“It’s going to take a fair bit of acting on my part. We are courting danger, I’ll admit that much.”
____Jaxson shook his head, “I’m beginning to think Omaha would’ve been the better destination.”
____“Maybe, maybe. But I don’t know how things went there. This place I’m certain about.”
____“You just can’t seem to make it sound good.”
____James shook his head grimly, “Nothing’s good anymore.”
____After a mostly silent drive James took an unexpected turn and began going down a lengthy and bumpy road. It came at last to a circle of rusty, ruined trucks and buses: packed together like pilgrim-wagons against an Indian attack in old Western times. Scattered around these were a series of camping tents, mostly abandoned and in disarray, billowing in the wind. Junk lay everywhere in a hundred-yard radius: spent supplies or abandoned belongings of the old world bereft of the memories or society that had once given them meaning. It was all just debris now.
____Jaxson peered out the window as they rolled up to this dump, seeing what looked like half a telephone pole jutting from the ground: with killed or burnt corpses nailed to them. Finally he felt the apocalypse in the atmosphere around him.
____“Making a display out of killed zombies?” He asked.
____James only grimaced, “Mostly zombies.”
____There were people watching as they rolled up, from atop or within the circle of vehicles. All were armed: mostly rifles or shotguns, some with melee weapons. And they all looked rugged and mean: types that’d make one silently wary even before the outbreak.
____Jaxson sunk a little into his seat, “Why did you bring us here?”
____James finally pulled into the circle and stopped the car, relaxing his grip on the wheel and looking over, “Listen: these are the people I was with before I met your group. The Rikers are killers. They attracted like-minded people and robbed the rest. They’re scalpers in a cashless economy.”
____“They scalp people?!”
____“No, no, I mean they take everything before anyone else can have it, rationing-out be damned. People like them are the reason why so many resources just up and vanished not a week into the outbreak. They steal and steal and then there’s nothing left and they can take advantage of people in need.”
____“Oh, you mean hoarders.”
____“Whatever. It means these boys are well-armed and well-fed. They can put up a fight. You got that?”
____“I understand. They’re close, they’re dangerous, and you know them.” Jaxson paused, “But you said they only ganged up with like-minded people. How’d you end up with them?”
____James reflected on something, Jaxson couldn’t tell what, before answering, “I guess they thought I was meaner than I was.” He opened the door and got out, “Stay or come out of the car if you want. But say absolutely nothing. You’re not a fellow survivor to them—you’re prey. They’ll be able to tell just by looking at your posture. They'll be suspicious enough of me, returning without Pete.”
____Curious and knowing the eyes on him already, Jaxson opted to get out as well. He cautiously followed. Just as James had said, within the circle there were piles of loot loosely organized into clumsy stacks. Tightly wrapped food and opened cartons of bullets… even beer cans lying around. Miscellaneous junk was everywhere: anything these bandits could carry they’d taken back with them to this place, obvious use or not.
____Two RVs were parked on the far left side—ladders on them enabling access to the top of the ring of vehicles—with five pickup trucks on the far right. Behind was the way they’d come in, two men slowly pushing a car to shut the entrance, and dead ahead at the far end was what could only be called a throne of junk. Loot, discarded cans, useless belongings… even more trophies of killed zombies, which served to intimidate but mostly just made the place stink. Upon the summit of the junk pile was a heavy, very unhappy-looking woman, glaring down at James as he approached.
____“Four days overdue!” she snapped at her guest in a rough voice, “You have a lot of explaining to do, Roree! Where are the others at?”
____She cocked a pistol and then set it next to her on the armrest. It seemed to Jaxson almost like a timer a very important businessman would set for an elevator pitch, to silently say “You have three minutes: go”.
____“We were doing some routing when we got attacked.” James said, “I only just escaped with my life!”
____“And him?” An accusing gesture was thrown at Jaxson.
____“He was one of the ones we was hitting.” James explained. Jaxson noted the difference in the way he was talking now: a perhaps not-so-subtle mirroring of his former boss’. He continued, “But when the sh*t hit the fan I freed him so we could get out.”
____“You’re being awfully vague. Elaborate, sh*thead! What happened? Details!”
____Now James gulped, conjuring his story: “We were attacked by a bunch of guys from the east, all in black. They came out of nowhere and began indiscriminately shooting at us. They had military-grade stock. They didn’t care who was robbing who. And there were zombies mixed in with them.”
____The throned woman spat.
____“I’m dead serious, Riker!”
____“So what happened to the others, then?”
____James shook his head, “They were killed. Like I said, I ran for it.”
____Riker mused, “…And Pete?”
____“They…”
____The woman quickly stood, “What’d you let ‘em do to my brother?”
____“Uh—”
____He’d stumbled. Jaxson stepped in now, “They took him.”
____If James’ story could be believed, these guys would likely pack up and run for it, he figured. Opportunist bandits wouldn’t fight paramilitary enemies lightly. They needed more incentive to participate in anything as obviously dangerous as this. Stacey he knew they wouldn’t give a sh*t about, but what if she were swapped out with this woman’s own flesh and blood?
____James picked up on it, “Yes, for questioning I think. I tried to follow them but the factory they’re held up in is too well-defended for one man. There’s too many zombies. But they’ll squeeze him for info, no doubt about it.”
____Riker didn’t seem like she was buying it, “I know about the factory. Sammy scouted it out for me awhile ago. Didn’t know there was anything but creepers there. And what is this, some special ops team that beset you? What do they want Pete for?”
____“They were only interested in killing everybody. I think they wanted to know if there were more of us out and around.”
____“What the damn hell for?”
____Jaxson spoke up again, “It was Silvin. This wasn’t any government team. He was the ringleader, I saw him with my own eyes!”
____Riker spat again, “Alex Silvin, like from the news? That Silvin?”
____He nodded sheepishly.
____“You’re telling me that sack of sh*t is still alive?! Isn’t there any justice in this world?!” She’d slumped back into her chair but now stood again, “I’m through having to hear about him even now the world’s gone t*ts-up, and I’ll be damned to have him lay a claw on my brother! Everyone prepare to leave immediately! He may have been able to dodge bumbling cops and feds, but he’s about to see that a lynching mob is a lot faster to slap back! Goddammit!”
____She stormed forward, barking to the other bandits who’d curiously assembled around to see what news James had brought. They swarmed at her commands, prepping their guns and trucks lest their leader get even more upset.
____James leaned slightly to mutter to his friend as the two watched Riker furiously gather weapons, “(That worked out better than expected.)”
____“(For the moment. We have until she finds out your friend is dead before we get dead too.)” Jaxson replied, “(Even if it goes swimmingly we’ll have to find a way to give these guys the slip afterward!)”
____As if they’d reminded her to be suspicious, Riker whirled around and pointed to James accusingly. “And you!” she said, “I know how you got out when Dilan and Carlos and the rest didn’t. You’re a pasty little coward, I always knew you were. So if you think you can drop all this in my lap and then sit pretty with your boyfriend here in my camp while we’re off doing all the work, you’re sorely mistaken! You’re coming with us.”
____“Aah, yes…!” James said, remembering the part he was supposed to be playing, “O—Of course. I’ll be there…!”
____“We’ll need all hands on deck. The Rammers ought to take care of the zombies, but if it’s as much of a shootout as you promise, then I want you right there with me! And that goes for this little monkey too, not that I’ll trust him with a gun.”
____Jaxson gestured with his plainly-savaged hand, “Ah, don’t—don’t worry about that.”
____Riker now turned to the other bandits around, bellowing at them like a deranged Viking captain: “We’re saving my brother! Think of all the dead children you’ve seen on the TV ‘cause of this terrorist bastard! Think of all the times he’s slipped away and mocked our stars and stripes! Now he thinks he’s extra-invincible ‘cause it’s all fallen to pieces now. I want his head to be the first thing anyone sees when they get to our camp! And all his terrorist friends we butcher will give you the highest quality weapons and supplies, James says. Better to hit them before they hit us. Any risk is worth it!”
____Not hardly all of them looked like they bought James’ story, but Jaxson figured none of them would dare question it to Riker and risk being made an example of. She alone needed to be dead-set on this mission and the rest would have to follow. So they obeyed and rallied and armed and loaded up into the pickup trucks: about seventeen men in total including Riker herself.
____James and Jaxson returned to their own truck, three men joining them and instead directing them to a new vehicle. This one had some sort of custom plow affixed to the front bumper, jagged and heavy looking. Jaxson didn’t have to guess its purpose. They entered, James continuing to play it cool: picking up a small radio off the dashboard and reporting, “We’re ready.”
____The three men climbed aboard the truck bed to be their gunners. One of them called from the back as he latched himself in, speaking to James: “I got my eye on you, Ghoulie.”
____He said nothing in response, just putting the vehicle in Drive and waiting to follow the others.
____It seemed like a dirty trick to Jaxson: conning all these men into being little more than a distraction while he and James saved a girl they all knew nothing about and slipped away. Most or all of them would die. But James hadn’t painted a pretty picture of these people, and nothing Jaxson had seen of this place changed his mind about that. Much better people had probably starved because of all these goods stolen and piled high here, and that was unlikely to be the worst things they’d done. So be it. They would use stupid evil as a hammer against clever evil, and make out like these very bandits.
____But even so, it still didn’t feel right. What other choice was there though? Was there even room for right anymore? Jaxson wasn’t sure.

As always let me know what you think

~TAF

[TheAverageFan]

Sor delay new ch

Spoiler Alert!

14
Monsters

i

____They had waited as long as could be spared, even that short a time. Thomas was the first one up, woken by the early onset of light through the windows peering right into the easy chair he slept in. No, not early light. It was dark out now throughout much of the morning proper. They had slept in. He rose.
____VACC was near, close to a day’s drive Header had said. If they left now they could reliably reach the place tomorrow, or even today if they made good ground. Provided nothing happened. With that in mind, he recognized that they had dawdled long enough and should get going.
____Almost, what’s the rush though? He grimly pondered as he moved to rouse the others, There’s nothing at VACC but safety, and we’re bringing nothing of value back with us. When we get there, we’ll just sit there. Just as Nazar asked of us in the first place… why does his being right about our efforts sting so much?
____Maybe they could wring something out of all this, perhaps, but only if they got back. He woke everyone and headed outside to begin packing all their things back into the cars. It was a solemn overcast gray out today, thicker than the days previous and everywhere obscured somewhat by a light fog rolling about the landscape. Those assembled for breakfast already did so quietly and moodily, affected by such cool moist weather.
____“Thanks again fer havin’ us.” Header told Julie Anne as he packed, “You sure yer gonna be alright all out here on yer lonesome?”
____“We’ve made do this far.”
____“Al’ight, but ma’am if anything goes astray you all can head to VACC. I left coordinates for y’all, just in case.”
____“Would there even be enough space?” Thomas quietly muttered to him, but the Sergeant said nothing.
____Brooke walked over, helping the prisoner along. His name was Gauge, she had said, and she now had him bound by the wrists but no longer behind his back. He walked alongside her of his own accord. Thomas frowned at the sight. He’d moved up: restrained less thoroughly now even so soon. Before long he’d likely be walking around completely free, and then…
____“We’re ready.” Brooke said.
____Header too frowned, glancing to his host, “Are you sure you won’t keep ‘im?”
____“I don’t want him.” Julie Anne flatly denied.
____“I don’t want to stay.” Gauge said, “I want to go to VACC with the rest of you. Maybe I can provide some use there, if I’m not struck down before then.”
____“We don’t give a sh*t ‘bout what you want.” Header replied, “Yer gonna be passed around from one set of interrogators to the next until one of ‘em finds something outta you. And if they don’t then they might jus’ pull the plug. Until then you jus’ do what I say an’ carry that ammo like a proper mule.”
____“Very well.” Gauge grimly glanced skyward.
____The Sergeant didn’t seem impressed by the short answer, “Oh, you wanna prove yerself? Help us fight Apostle, if yer feelin’ so agreeable.”
____Gauge looked dour and said nothing, as if pledging to such was a worthless effort.
____Irene already had one of the car doors open, drumming her fingers on the vehicle impatiently, “Let’s get going already!”
____“Wait, wait!” another voice cried out. Up jogged a man in black, armed only with a messenger bag slung across one shoulder. He panted for a moment before standing up straight, “May I come with you?”
____“Oriel!” Brooke said.
____“At your service.” he bowed, “Your friend said I might join you. I want to be a part of your group and travel alongside you all.”
____“Oh really?” Header glanced to Brooke, “First I’ve heard of it.”
____She blushed, “I forgot to say so.”
____“Ugh.” the Sergeant groaned, Thomas picking up on the unusual tone of it. Odd, he didn’t get that way often. Nonetheless Header quickly recovered and nodded, “Okay, but it ain’t gonna be much of an adventure from here to VACC, you know.”
____“I’ve spent my time here, I’ll spend my time there.” Oriel said.
____“Any other Exclavers comin’?” Header asked loudly, scanning everyone present. But no other takers stepped forward, content where they were. The Sergeant shrugged, “Jus’ about maxes out our cars’ capacity anyway. Alright boy, you can come.”
____“We should leave.” Gauge said.
____Brooke glanced to him. He was watching the skies to the east but saying nothing further. She was glad to see him crawl out of his shell a little since their talk: standing and speaking of his own accord with the others. Still, she’d have to remind herself to stay at least partially guarded. Nine-killer. She could never allow herself to forget that fact, but also never let it be held unfairly against him. Otherwise he could slink back into that role, accept and embrace it defensively against judgmental others.
____Header twirled one finger in the air and then motioned to the cars, “Okay, in we go. Thomas, take the wheel with the girls an’ the new guy. Rest go with me. We’ll send you a postcard, Julie. Best of luck.”
____John had been standing there with the group but saying nothing. He interrupted the farewell by cocking his head and narrowing his eyes, muttering aloud and unrelated, “What is that out there?”
____Thomas turned. He too had been watching the gray eastern sky, which Thomas now saw glowed faintly with red. What a red cloud would mean no one could venture a guess, but it nonetheless greatly alarmed him even at that distance.
____“Get in the car!” Gauge shouted. He knew what it was.
____Red lights. It clicked to Thorn: recalling what Jarek had said on the boat about his survival zone being suddenly destroyed. Whatever it was, it was suddenly here. The Corporal whirled to face Julie Anne, “Leave with us!”
____“Like hell!” She snapped back, “I won’t abandon all this so lightly!”
____“You don’t have the capacity anyway.” John added, “Everyone get inside! Combat-ready, man those walls! Whatever it is I don’t want it getting to the young or the stores!”
____The red lights gleamed through the low clouds that shrouded them, gradually closing in on the Exclave in what could only be a direct path. As it neared the air soured with what smelled like burnt-up matchsticks: a smoggy metallic scent. People scattered, running and shouting and crying. John sprinted off, shouting at others leaving the command-shed to follow. Their rifles waved about as they ran off to the easternmost wall. One had a bazooka.
____“Run, leave! Leave, dammit!” Gauge shouted at them all. His bound hands pounded the roof of the car in frustration and he looked to Header, “We need to get out of here or we’ll all die!”
____“Shaddup, I know that!” Header barked back, grimacing at the sudden scene. None of the people had leapt to their leaving vehicles, reverting to a panic-mode used previously only on zombie or raider attacks. Hiding in the buildings, manning the walls, doing what they had assumedly always done before. None would risk going with his company. He grimaced, “Sh*t. Okay, we’re leaving! Thomas, follow me!”
____He ducked into the first jeep and revved it up, hastily departing at that. Thomas too grimaced for his part but obeyed, starting up the second vehicle and preparing to leave. It felt sour to just go at so dire a time, but what could he do? This seemed like a job for fighter jets, not some actor with a pistol. The longer they all stayed yelling futilely at these others, the more they’d be caught up in the storm.
____Brooke sat beside him, Irene and Oriel in the back. She put her hand on his as he switched from Park to Drive, nearly halting the motion, “Thomas, wait!”
____“We have to leave.” he said bluntly, making sure to look her in the eyes as he spoke, “This is one of those hard choices.”
____“I can’t leave them behind! There’s families—!”
____“I know. That’s why I’m doing it for you.” With that, he quickly sped the car after Header’s, going along the western road which was still open and leaving the Exclave behind as fast as possible. Brooke yelped at the sudden start and winced as they passed the gate, clutching her seat belt to her chest and shutting her eyes tight.
____The lights behind them were nearing the town. Out of the low clouds fell undead: each a great limp mass of flesh that plunged like a giant droplet, hitting the ground before scrambling to un-life. These were no normal zombies: all a writhing cluster of fused-together flesh and bodies with dreadfully-abnormal long limbs, length bordering on the absurd. With so many such arms they rose to a terrible height when stirred, like a great tripod, crawling and clambering about as a spider across the open fields. The wires did little to trip up their hulking hands and feet, and they fell deftly upon the Exclave. They could only be further abominations of Joetex’s design, carried in whatever the clouds hid.

Daddy-Longlegs have been added to the Enemy Journal in the OP. Another entry will be added every time a new type of Zombie appears.

____Immediately the creatures were struck with gunfire as they neared the community’s walls. Blood spurted plentifully from their fused bodies, long thin waterfalls of it dropping from their elevated masses. But much like their Doormen cousins this did little to offset their advance, perfectly capable of sustaining a great deal of typically-lethal damage. Indeed even when one of their heads burst there seemed to be more somewhere out of sight within their twisted cobbled-together forms. Headshots did not immediately drop them. The Daddy-Longlegs that endured the advance easily climbed the walls.
____Thomas saw much of this only through the panicked glimpses at the rear-view mirrors as he drove. This damn western road veered north as they went, giving more direct sight to the attack and a woefully closer seat to the source of it all. He could practically hear the screams of battle, distant and shut out as he tried to make it from within the speeding vehicle. The survivors’ defenses were woefully insufficient against zombies like these.
____They were directly engineered for such a task. he realized, Made in advance to weed out such fortifications. They dwelt on how we would best fend off zombies and created their own countermeasures! His mind flashed back to Elias in Joetex’s lab, hands cupped together, smiling warmly as he explained to them how he would wipe all of mankind out. Only monsters could be so systematic!
____The red lights shone brightly now as they came within distance of the town. As men fought the undead upon the walls, that thing in there bypassed them all: canisters firing down from the clouds above into the streets. The first ones burst explosively, blasting apart many of the buildings. Then the rest came raining down afterwards: these ones alight with bright red fumes billowing out in their wake. Chemical bombs. It could only be infectious gas, same as the ones used on the first day of the outbreak. The clouds coming from these flowered and expanded dreadfully-quick, spreading all throughout the area with deadly speed. The first batch of bombs had put plenty of cracks in any hiding places, the gas seeped through the rest.
____Thomas drove faster.
____Only now were there people racing out of the backmost broken-buildings after the departing two cars, calling even as the hostile fumes choked them for their guests to turn back and save them.
____“Thomas, turn around!” Brooke pleaded with him, “Go back!”
____But just as always it was by then way too late; Thomas didn’t dare to even begin to change course now: focused only on saving the three passengers he could escape with. Everyone else died.
____Oriel watched all of this from the back seat, pounding the window and slumping down into a bad slouch. “No…!” he protested oddly quietly, half to himself and half to his God, “Don’t tell me you waited just for me to leave to do this! I don’t want to be the one! Why?!”
____Its task completed, the lights began gradually hovering after the two fleeing vehicles. It’d seen them. Thomas floored it, taking the fresher cars for all they were worth: keeping the needle at a solid ninety. These roads were good enough to handle it. Seemingly slower, the lights fell behind in their pursuit, unable to keep up with such a hasty retreat. As it floated beyond the cloak of clouds and fog about it, Thomas could barely make out the lights in the mirror as he left them behind. Bright red lights upon the tips of flat gray surfaces, upon the very edge of metal antennae. Flight lights.
____From the back of the first car Gauge too watched the destruction unfold and end. He faced forward as they escaped the lights and leaned into his seat as if to hide. “The bunker buster.” he muttered to himself, lifting his head and speaking now to Header, “Fight Apostle, you said… Tell me: how am I supposed to fight that?”

____After only a short while in the car Oriel protested loudly to stop, shouting “Pull over, pull over!”
____Thomas grimaced and obeyed, still locked somewhat in a panicked-flight mode, slowing the vehicle and finally stopping now that the town was long out of sight behind them. Seeing this, the car ahead also veered and halted. Oriel stumbled out and fell to his hands and knees, retching with his head low to the ground. Weary at first that he might have somehow become infected, everyone exited the car and stood anxiously by. Only Brooke had the nerve to get close to him.
____“Are you okay?” she put one hand on his back, stooping down to his side and eyeing him closely.
____He looked sick only in spirit, wiping his mouth and nodding, “I’m just… damn!” He reeled back and sat, back against the car and staring out at the overcast landscape beyond, saying nothing.
____“We shouldn’t dawdle.” Header called out to them, “Stopped too soon. I don’t wanna give them any more chances to catch up on us.”
____Brooke stood and frowned at him, “Won’t you give us a minute? He just lost everything.”
____The Sergeant’s flat tone could be easily mistaken for uncaring, “I don’t want that thing following us to VACC, Brooke. We’ve gotta make ourselves scarce.”
____“In a minute!”
____Thomas startled a bit at the way she snapped her reply, unused to it from her. But it seemed to work: Header backing off and just waiting in silence for them to recuperate and leave again. His visor scanned the horizon, hands readily on his rifle. Thomas followed the Sergeant’s gaze, not feeling that optimistic himself about their position. If whatever that thing was managed to track them back to VACC… well, it’d be better that they never got to VACC at all if that were to happen. The idea of having to lay low just to wait until it was safe first made him highly uneasy. They had escaped: it would be best if they stayed escaped all the way to their destination. Dawdling invited disaster.
____Brooke remained by Oriel’s side, trying to comfort him: “It’s okay. We’re safe for now. Let’s just keep going. It’ll be safer at VACC, I promise.”
____“Damn your safety!” he shouted, “Why did I leave? I should’ve died with them!”
____“We all have survivor’s guilt, Oriel.”
____“Of all the reasons for me to live…” he muttered, one hand furiously gripping the ridge of his nose in remorse.
____“What’d you mean…?” before she could inquire further, a ferocious scream echoed in the distance. Everyone but Oriel snapped to attention, eyes following the far-off noise’s direction.
____“It’s those things.” Thorn correctly guessed.
____Header looked through the scope of his rifle. To the northeast he could see a small pack of Daddy-Longlegs skittering across the open terrain: spider-crawling faster than their bodies looked like they ought to be capable of. It was too far from the Exclave for them already. He scowled, knowing they must be extras dropped from some previous attack somewhere else in recent days.
____“Sh*t.” he muttered, turning to Brooke, “Damn if I didn’t warn ya. Y’all can grieve in the car.”
____No one was in any mood to put up a fight against such monsters right now, piling back into their rides and racing off without delay before things could take any further turns. The roads were blissfully open here and even these zombies couldn’t hope to keep up. They continued the hasty retreat.
____Header led the way, gripping the wheel tightly and paying heed only to the open road ahead and the map he’d taped to the dashboard. “Keep yer eyes on those things, kid.” he instructed Thorn beside him.
____The Corporal nodded, the distant undead on his immediate right outside the passenger window. He watched them carefully.
____“Are they after us already?” Gene asked him.
____Thorn shook his head, “No. …Wait…”
____Gene waited, “…Are they after us now?”
____“They’re chasing somebody else.”
____“Well, our condolences, I guess.”
____Thorn looked to his superior, “Do we provide assistance, sir?”
____“…” Header didn’t immediately reply, hands still rigidly on the steeling wheel. He could feel Gauge silently watching him now from the back seat.
____“Sir?” the Corporal repeated.
____Header thought on it. Still feeling the heated staring, and dwelling on all the civilians he had just left behind.
____“You wanna go back into the danger?” Gene asked.
____“Our original orders were and remain to protect civilians.” Thorn reminded him. The Corporal glanced to his superior, still motionless with either heartlessness or indecision, “We couldn't do anything for those people before, after all...”
____Gene paled, “Well, what about me? I’m a civilian! You'd be taking me right to those monsters!”
____Thorn laughed, “But damn if that isn't a military carbine in your hands! Nice big caliber for dealing with these creatures—seems you signed up for this, Gene!”
____His eyes fell startled to the captured carbine he’d been given, “I—uh, well, but, I…!”
____“Relax,” Gauge told him dryly, “I’m only a civilian, too.”
____“Now even you’re roasting me?!” Gene ran both hands through his messy hair, knowing there was no turning back, “Well, I guess this was the trial-by-fire Julie Anne was telling me about. Suppose I should at least die in the act of saving others, right?”
____“That’s the spirit.” Thorn said, then to Header: “On your orders, sir.”
____But still the Sergeant said nothing. His lips were tight with musing, and the visor of his helmet kept any wavering in his eyes hidden from them. The decision remained his: to save themselves for certain, or risk saving others. The final say lay before him alone.

ii

____It was bright gray out when Stacey was shaken awake again by Reed. He’d kept the watch like he said and now stared grim and exhausted down at her as he helped lift her to her feet. The days of remaining captured in the dark of that little stall had helped her forget how much she hated mornings. But they were both still alive. It was time to get moving again.
____The meager fire had done little to warm Stacey overnight, but was still sorely missed once she was back on the bike and on the road again: fast-moving air whipping her arms and numbing her. She didn’t dare ask Reed for his jacket, figuring that he was in rough enough shape already given the lack of sleep. They’d both just have to soldier through their respective discomforts throughout the day’s journey.
____He spoke little of what had happened during the night—only that he had survived the encounter, and that the ghost had increasingly dropped its mask over time: coming back into the firelight without its face or proportions, giving up the use of its female voice. Stacey tried not to think about sleeping so close to such an ordeal. Waking up without him there… no, even contemplating about that was dreadful. If nothing else, she did not want to be alone anymore. She hated being alone.
____“Where are you taking me?” she asked him as he drove the bike hard across the open terrain, speaking loud to not be drowned out by the roar of it.
____“Someplace…!” he shouted back vaguely, “Anywhere I can stock up!”
____“As long as it’s far away from Silvin…!” Stacey muttered, “Will you take me back to VACC afterward?”
____“Maybe. Maybe I’ll stay there again, maybe not.”
____“Why wouldn’t you?” she paused, reflecting on last night, “That woman back there… She said you weren’t acting like yourself. What did she mean?”
____He didn’t answer.
____It was overcast and chilly all day, and by the time Reed finally brought his ride to a stop Stacey was feeling frigid all over. It was cloudy and foggy, and yet still dry here where the mist hadn’t yet climbed. They’d come near to the destroyed ruins of suburbs stretched out eastwards, with more vacant plains to the north and behind them. Smoke could be seen around to the south, as if there’d been some kind of battle. Fires had been burning out that way, whatever had occurred.
____Reed had parked close to a hill where a few ransacked sheds stood, and he doffed his goggles and surveyed the surrounding territory. He pointed south and then was already back on his bike, “That way!”
____Stacey gawked, “You wanna go towards the smoke?!”
____“Toward, Sugar. It’s never towards.” he revved the bike’s engine, “Smoke is scavenging. It’s how I found this bike, it’s how I found you. Hop on.”
____With no small amount of uncertainty, Stacey climbed back on and clutched him tight, and the two raced off. Rapidly the bike bounded over the empty terrain, Reed driving straight for his target and only occasionally veering off to any other thing that caught his eye and might be pilfered. Stacey supposed he was living the dream like this: an able-bodied man all on his own with his gun and his bike and his potato chips and all the empty world around him to plunder for more stuff. At least he would have his fun; that only left everybody else.
____The smoke gradually neared as time wound on, until at last Reed summited the closest hill and beheld the destruction: great plumes of smoke rising from all that was left of a cratered bunch of buildings in the far distance. Reed saw this and stopped his bike, circling it in place and drumming his fingers on the gas mask that hung across his torso in silent thought.
____“‘Towards the smoke!’” Stacey huffed, watching him contemplate, “You’re not still thinking about going in, are you?”
____“Hmm. Meh. Maybe. Nah.” Reed said, “I don’t got two masks, and you’d leave me behind.”
____“Probably.” she agreed for once, beholding the destruction from this vantage point. Even so far off it felt severe, and it made her nervous, “Can we leave?”
____Reed glanced down to the plains and ruined suburbs below, again revving his bike, “Yeh, let’s go, let’s go.”
____She followed his eyes and saw what had caught them: the fast movement of long limbs down there. Abominable spiderlike zombies were scurrying across the land: obviously locked on to the two humans there. She squeezed him tight, seeing their speed, “Reed! Get us out of here!”
____He saw the coming disaster and whirled the bike around. The two took off speeding, all while the zombies followed. Stacey only looked back once, seeing the monsters keeping up with the bike and slowly closing. Such long limbs permitted them to move much too quick for her tastes, and panic welled up in her throat.
____“Reed! Faster!” she rasped, not daring to look back again, hoping that the roar of the bike engine and the speed that sound promised would smother out any threat behind them. It didn’t. With staggering swiftness beyond what its size implied, the Daddy-Longlegs reached out with one gaping arm and in the hook of its claw caught the rear wheel. The two passengers lurched to a stop as the motorbike was yanked out from under them, Stacey landing hard on top of Reed as they struck the ground and rolled to a stop.
____Despite hitting the earth uncushioned with her on top of him, Reed was quick to sit up with his rifle raised. Stacey scrambled off him, knowing the fight that was coming. He aimed and fired off two shots in quick succession into the monster as it crawled up. But it didn’t seem to matter much: even with a burst forehead the zombie continued the assault. One massive arm came swinging and Reed was flung aside, sent careening as if he were little more than a flicked tiddlywink. Again he rolled, scraped and battered by the hard earth, this time struggling to get back up. The Daddy-Longlegs turned next to Stacey.
____Bloodied and bruised herself from the hard landing, she only sat there in silent defiance of the monster, knowing better than to even try to draw her knife. Or fetch it, wherever it had landed.
____As the zombie advanced, the sound of a second revving engine came quickly. It had been masked by the roar of the bike before, but now in that absence it was suddenly upon them. Out of her peripheral vision Stacey saw a Humvee recklessly thundering over at an unreasonable speed, heedless of the bumpiness of the roadless path. With a similar abandon it rammed right into the Daddy-Longlegs: sweeping under its body and overturning its long legs as it plowed right through. The beast flipped. A second vehicle came close behind.
____Header swerved the car aside, barely stopping before it would’ve hit Reed who remained struggling to sit up. He was still struck in the face as the Sergeant swung the car door open and stepped out, barking out his orders to the others, “There’s still more! Git ready!”
____Indeed the other two Longlegs were racing up, crawling furiously across the flat terrain toward the extra prey before them. Gene gulped at the sight and reluctantly stepped out alongside Thorn, who had only now recognized who they were helping.
____“Stacey!!” he shouted, lowering his weapon at the sight of her.
____But there was no time for that. She only pointed, “Watch out!”
____He whirled as the first Daddy-Longlegs raced up, emptying gunfire into its massed body. Header did the same, circling the monster and keeping a good distance from it. It was plain to see that these creatures endured punishment with ease—its true number of brains hidden within its body—never dying just to a single precise shot. They would have to dump bullets into it until it gave up and collapsed.
____The beast roared and recoiled at first under the rifle fire, but soon began crawling forth once again. The two soldiers backed up.
____Gauge meanwhile waved to Stacey from the back of the jeep, beckoning her with his bound hands, “Get in, quick!” he turned to Gene next, “Fire the gun!”
____“Well, okay!” Gene tried to obey, aiming the carbine held awkwardly in his arms up at the towering monster above him. He squeezed the trigger, not quite knowing what to expect, and found himself on his ass not a second later. The weapon had roared to life with automatic gunfire: not the controlled single-fire or triple-burst of Thorn and Header’s weapons. He also hadn’t gripped it tight enough, arms lifted right up as it recoiled. He staggered back to his feet, hastily trying to plant himself firmer as the mutant zombie rampaged ever closer, “Uh, one second.”
____Thomas meanwhile—adamant to help in the attack—had followed Header’s lead, driving his own car straight into the second oncoming Longlegs. Its limbs were thick and oversized compared to a typical human, but not so strong as to halt a speeding vehicle. With a hard Crash! the car flipped the monster over, Thomas immediately pulling over and exiting the vehicle alongside Irene. Driving up, they’d both gotten a good view of the first Daddy-Longlegs recovering back to its many hands and feet.
____Knowing the futility of aiming for one of the heads, Thomas simply focused on the flat many-backed body and fired off shots into that fleshy mass. It was at least a large target, little bursts of blood where the bullets struck spraying out as he shot it repeatedly.
____The beast rose to its full height, turning its attention toward the source of the shots. What could perhaps be called its “main head” roared and it surged forth, one massive hand shooting out to its prey. Thomas and Irene both dove out of the way. While they avoided harm, behind them was the car and this instead the monster struck: ramming it with its mass and flipping it onto its side.
____Thomas heard Brooke and Oriel yelp as they were overturned. He grimaced and kept firing at the beast, trying to lure it away as he shouted, “Get out of there, you two!”
____Behind him he heard the great collapsing THUD! of the other Daddy-Longlegs falling dead to the soldiers’ gunfire. They were now reloading and beginning to circle this one. Good, his own weapon was proving futile here.
____Seeing this, the Daddy-Longlegs hissed and swept out its many arms. Thomas thought to duck but even the notion occurring to him was too slow. With a tremendously vast reach it sent him and the soldiers and Gene all flying back with a simple swing.
____Stacey and Gauge startled as Header’s back struck the jeep they were hiding in. Gene didn’t land far from the Sergeant, dropping his carbine and struggling to sit back up. Seeing the Daddy-Longlegs freely approach while its foes were flung and stunned, Gauge grimaced and stepped from the car: bound hands reaching for the dropped weapon.
____“Don’t!!” Header barked at him. He was already staggered back to his feet, gun readied but not immediately firing it at the zombie. Not while he had eyes on this Apostle Soldier trying to steal back his firearm. Gauge backed off and did nothing.
____Thomas felt his back strike the ground and he rolled over twice, sitting up dazed. He’d been flung nearly twenty feet, suddenly sore all over and drained of all energy to fight. Header—being superhuman—was already back up and firing away, ducking and dodging further swiping from the monster as he duked it out with it. It almost made Thomas wonder why he was bothering to help, though that was clearly the sudden fatigue talking.
____But behind that battle he could see another problem. The Longlegs he had initially flipped was back up now, but instead of helping its friend fight the gun-wielders it had crawled over to the overturned car. Of course it had, Thomas realized: there were still warm bodies in there. He struggled to get up.
____Brooke only managed to unbuckle Oriel and begin to attempt to escape the car while it was on its side when the window above them burst. In came the long claw of the Longlegs above, groping and slashing at the air as it reached in.
____“Woah!” Oriel’s legs gave out and he fell against the opposite window below. Brooke fell with him, pressed tight against him as the two tried to distance themselves from the reaching arm.
____Brooke could feel the cold sweat on his skin against her hair, the pastor paralyzed with fear at the zombie above: this monster type which had appeared when his home had been destroyed only moments ago. Even if it hadn’t participated much in that total eclipsing destruction, she knew he would always associate it, always fear it because of that. Indeed it seemed to sense that fear: reaching for him, trying to grab him even when she was in the way. Its limbs were dreadfully long, reaching all the way into the car with ease. If it so wanted Oriel specifically, it could get him.
____“Go away…!” Brooke gasped, trying to interpose herself between them. She pried her heels against its reaching arm, putting the strength of her legs against its thin-yet-massive form, “Go away!”
____“Haah…!” She could hear the Longlegs hiss back, fighting now against her. Her only advantage was the leverage of being in a cramped space, but it wasn’t enough. Its arm batted her aside—so disinterested with her—proceeding to grip Oriel instead. He could see its main head peering down upon him from the other side of that shattered window: drooling mouth agape, so fixated on him as it leered and hissed, “Thou wolf…!”
____It spoke. He paled.
____BANG!! There came a loud burst outside the jeep and the Longlegs roared again. There came a second and then a third gunshot and the limb went limp. The hand released Oriel and gradually slid back out of the window as it was rid of the undead animation. It’d been killed. Both Brooke and Oriel said and did nothing at this, not even daring to exhale at what had happened.
____In peered Irene, smoking shotgun gripped tight in her hands. She leered down at them, “You’re welcome!”
____Oriel looked too frightened to even reply correctly, just shakily saying it back to her, “You’re welcome…!”
____The other Longlegs had fallen as well, silence finally taking its rightful place again as the gunfire and screams ceased. Header blew the smoke from his AA12’s near-overheated barrel—it alone serving to slay such monsters quickly—and looked about the battlefield. No deaths that he could see.
____“Clear!” he called, “Kid, git Gene on his feet an’ help me right that flipped car.”
____“But I am on my feet.” Gene said, still lying on the ground seeing stars.
____It was a moot point anyway, as Thorn ignored the order and ran back to the other jeep. Stacey had stumbled out of it now that the battle was over, looking around for Reed and not seeing him. The Corporal raced up to her.
____“Stacey! You’re alive!” he cried, overjoyed with the fortune of finding her. He shouldered his rifle and nearly hugged her, but halted himself and quickly eyed her up and down, looking for injuries, “Are you hurt? Are you bit?”
____“Oh…!” she fell to her knees with relief, “I’m just a little banged up. Oh, you guys…! I’m back! I’m here!”
____Suddenly Gene was standing again. “I knew I recognized that unmistakable hair!” he said, “Well, if it isn’t a small world after all!”
____Gauge watched the exchange with curiosity, “You guys know each other?”
____“We do! We’re buddies!”
____Header frowned at them all, “Are any of you gonna help me right the car?”
____“We’re okay!” Brooke told him, helped from the vehicle by Thomas and back on stable ground. Legs still a little wobbly from it all, she stumbled over to Stacey, “We are so, so glad you’re safe and sound! We didn’t know if you had made it or not.”
____“I didn’t know if you all had made it.” Stacey answered, Brooke being the one person she would accept with a hug, “You seem to have been doing better for yourselves; not all that worse for wear that I can tell.”
____“Do you know who is worse for wear?!” a ragged voice shouted at her. Out from behind the Humvee crawled Reed, staggering on all fours like a limping stray, wiping generous amounts of blood from his nose as he went. Using his rifle as a staff to lean on, he gradually rose to his feet, scowling at them all, “You’re all a pestilence! You ever heard of friendly fire, Sarge?!”
____“Didn’t see ya, sorry.” Header said, “A busted nose is better than bein’ zombie chow anyways.”
____“I tried to leave you all, I really did.” Reed grumbled.
____“And yet you seem to have found your way back.” Thomas told him as he helped Oriel out of the wreck, “Now I can thank you for getting King off our trail.”
____“The sword guy? You say that as if it were intentional. I don’t know why he wanted my ass so bad out of all of us.”
____Thomas smirked at him, “Right, of course. Perhaps he knew you were a general’s son.”
____Reed spat.
____Thorn sighed, “The important thing is we’re all together again. Now we can get to VACC and be safe for good.”
____“Only if we can right this car and be outta here before that thing in the sky finds us.” Header said, “So we shouldn’t dally.”
____The Corporal nodded, “Aye sir. Guys, pitch in. This thing’s going to be heavy.”
____Brooke watched the men work as they crowded around the overturned jeep and gradually tried to lift and set it back on its wheels. It was slow going but with no interruptions they eventually managed. With the car reset, save for broken windows, they could again get back on the road.
____Oriel did not help with the overturning, still shakily glad to be alive and fretting over what had occurred. He shared nothing of what the Longlegs had said: trying to leave it behind with small talk, leaning to Irene, “Thank you again, ma’am! I—I guess it’s a happy reunion we have here.”
____She seemed dismissive of the thanks and observation both, “For them, not for us.”
____Header dusted his gloved hands at the jeep was righted, quickly assessing their new number. “You two make ten of us.” he told Reed, “We can fit in these, though it’ll be a little cramped. Provided you’re okay stickin’ with us to VACC.”
____He scoffed, “Well my bike’s totaled so I ain’t got no choice. Lead the way, sir.”
____“It’s worth being cramped if we’re back together.” Gene said.
____Brooke sighed, “If only we were all back together! I’m almost afraid to ask, Stacey, but do you know if Jaxson is okay? Did he…?” She glanced to Reed who just shrugged.
____Stacey looked morose. “We left the wreck together.” she said, “But I don’t know where he is now, or if he’s even alive. We got separated. I was hoping beyond hope he’d have found you all first by now. Silvin deliberately sent—!”
____Her heart skipped a beat and she bit her lip at her own words: hard enough to draw blood. But it was too late. Thorn whirled and faced her, “What did you say?”
____“Nothing!” she insisted.
____But he knew. “Silvin, you said!” he correctly guessed, already storming over, “Tell me the truth! What happened?!”
____Reed shrugged, “She told me he had her and Jax hostage for three days in some factory before escaping. That’s how she fell neatly into my lap.”
____“Reed!” Stacey flared at him. She had asked him not to say anything of it to the others once they were at VACC, “Does your word mean absolutely nothing?!”
____“Oh who gives a sh*t?!” he shot back.
____This time Thorn didn’t hesitate to grip Stacey’s shoulders, the Corporal looking down at her with some odd mixture of concern and fury, “What’d he do to you?”
____“Don’t touch me!!” she broke the grip and stood back, “He didn’t do anything! Now let’s just go!”
____Thorn looked angry and then uncertain and then finally rather sullen. He backed off and silently strode away. Stacey watched him leave, somewhat surprised. She had expected him to maintain that explosive reaction, to scream and shout and go running off. But he just slinked away and now sat off on his own.
____Still, she let him sulk, turning to Header, “We can leave, right?”
____He nodded, “Hm. We’re not far now.”
____Satisfied with this, Stacey walked over and helped herself into the passenger’s seat, crossing her arms and waiting. Seconds passed in silence. She watched Thorn—just sitting there by himself, not doing anything—finally sighing and exiting to head back over to him. She almost hated herself for doing so, but she couldn’t bring herself to just leave him there, being at least in part versed in hatred for Silvin. Thorn had only wanted to protect them all.
____“Christian?” she asked. Brooke followed her as she approached the Corporal.
____He only partially turned to face her. “I have to leave.” he said simply, his tone almost sounding defeated already.
____“You can’t go after him!”
____“I have to. You know I have to.” Thorn turned his back on her again, “He can’t still be alive out there, even after all that’s happened. He can’t be allowed to persist like this, after everything he’s done, after all of those who deserved to live more and didn’t—”
____“Thorn…” Stacey began, but he stood and cut her off.
____“This is my one purpose! I have to kill him!” he stopped and sighed, “I have to at least try… Even if it kills me, I have to try.”
____“He said you would. Just leave him behind, please.”
____“I can’t.” he said, “I can’t do that, Stacey. You all can go to VACC and be safe there knowing you’ve done all you could to endure the nightmare. But I can’t, not when I know he’s still alive. How could I go there and look Abbey in the eye knowing I didn’t do everything I could?”
____Stacey frowned, trying to come up with excuses and failing. What was she supposed to say: just don’t tell her? Say that Abbey would be happier to see Thorn alive than to know that her baby had been avenged? Stacey couldn’t know that. Did she even have the right to comment at all, knowing that what had happened occurred solely because Abbey had stood up to protect her from Silvin? That poor woman would have every right to despise her if she only wanted to.
____Whatever Stacey tried to start and say to dissuade the Corporal, it just sounded like excuses to herself: ones that would only serve to make her look selfish. She just sighed instead and said nothing, unable to even convince herself that she could convince him.
____Thorn returned the sigh and walked over to her, “I’m sorry Stacey. Please forgive me. I hate to part from you so soon, when we shouldn’t have lost you in the first place. But I have to kill him, before he has the chance to get away and spread more agony.”
____“I know.” was all she could manage, knowing this was exactly what Silvin wanted: hating it and feeling helpless to avert what she knew was coming. Just a passenger trapped on the rails, unable to deviate from the brink that was in plain sight ahead.
____Part of him could see that misery plainly etched on her face, and he tried to offer her some meager comfort, “I—I’ll try to find Jaxson while I’m gone.”
____“You don’t have to tell me.” she muttered, “I’ll go with you. I have to, if you’re going to find where Silvin is.”
____She hoped he would see in her eyes that she clearly didn’t want to do this thing, but it felt like he couldn’t see her at all. He was glad for this opportunity, no matter how sullen he seemed, glad for the chance to turn around and go right back into the fire despite the risks. He was after all more concerned with avenging the dead than ensuring his own safety or even hers, and the worst part was that she had somehow so quickly been made to feel selfish for opposing that notion. He was sad and felt responsible for what had happened to her, and now she couldn’t step on that. She of course didn’t want to go back, not now right as she’d been reunited with her friends so close to VACC! She would rather die than go back, and yet she had just volunteered herself to do so. It felt inevitable. She just couldn’t look this man in the eyes and tell him No. She just couldn’t do it.
____Silvin was right about her, she miserably thought.
____Thorn turned to the others, “I have to go. Take the rest to VACC and we’ll catch up with you there soon enough.”
____Header looked displeased, “Kid, we got places to be. You can’t jus’ split us up again after we swore to make it to VACC together, no matter what.”
____“This couldn’t happen more than once. If I miss him here, I’ll never catch him again. I have to try.” the Corporal insisted, “I’m going to kill him, Header. He can’t get away with it again.”
____“Do it on yer own time! You got responsibilities as a soldier to these folks—first!”
____Thorn just shook his head, “He hurt Stacey, Sergeant…”
____Brooke frowned at the two of them arguing. She alone seemed to at least detect Stacey’s unspoken doubts, taking a step forward, “You’re dead-set, Thorn?”
____He nodded.
____“If you’re going to do this, then I’ll go with you.” she said.
____The Corporal almost reeled at the suggestion, “No way, absolutely not! You belong at VACC with the others.”
____“I can do what I want!” she insisted, “I’ll use my music to distract him while you go in for the kill.”
____“Brooke, no!”
____“If you go, I’m going with you. I’m as free to do so as you are. Now if you’re going to stick to your stupid decision you’ll have to commit to an even stupider plan. I could get hurt. Do you still want to go?”
____He scowled at her, “That’s…!”
____“I—I’ll go as well.” Oriel volunteered, adding to the baggage, “I’m sure Brooke and I could cause a lot of damage, even if we’re unarmed. I owe her.”
____Gauge nodded his approval, “Where she goes, I follow.”
____“Of all your volunteers Corporal, I actually have a gun.” Thomas added. He wasn’t about to go to VACC without her, after all.
____Thorn frowned at them all. “Aren’t you popular.” he told Brooke, “I don’t want to drag anyone else into this feud. It’s hurt enough people already.”
____“Whatever we do, we do it together.” she answered, “We’re behind you, Thorn. But if you really do this, we all have to do it.”
____Reed laughed at her words. “Yeah, we’re a true family unit!” he cackled, “The nerve of letting this woman make such decisions! Screw it, screw everything! I’m on board! Let’s kill this sumb*tch! Why the hell not?”
____Stacey scowled at him but said nothing. Only Header voiced his concerns, shaking his head with disbelief, “Dammit, kid. We shouldn’t be doing this.”
____“Isn’t it worth killing him?”
____“No!” the Sergeant sighed and rubbed the sides of his helmet as if it were his genuine temples, “…But if yer all gonna do it, we oughta do it as a unit. I’ll lend my ol’ Missy-Sixteen to the cause. Gene, we’ll make good use of yer gun as well.”
____Gene raised his hand, “Uh, well sir, I actually didn’t volunteer—”
____“Too bad!” Header faced the last of their group, “Irene, help us kill some bad guys? Silvin’s—”
____“I know who he is.” she said simply, “I want to go to VACC, especially since there’s this thing floating about after us and we really oughtn’t dawdle with sidequests. But loathe as I am to admit it Sunshine’s right: we should stay in one group. And if there’s enemy personnel in the area so close to VACC, we should probably go kill them before they come kill us.”
____“That’s the spirit.” Thomas said, facing Stacey, “Lead the way.”
____He could see the dread written on her, but he wouldn’t try to force it out of her. She would have to do so of her own volition. Instead she just quietly nodded, “Right. Okay.”

~TAF

[TheAverageFan]

Moving right along. I'll try not to delay with the next chapter, as it follows this one closely.

Spoiler Alert!

15
Bad Trades

i

____Nazar strode down the halls of the temporary government office they had arrived at, Lavender close behind taking notes on her tablet. They were overdue to return to VACC-104 with the survivors at Omaha expected back soon, but other matters always seemed to arise. Another senator had gone missing: Bureen now suddenly reduced to old news. If what Nazar had suggested to Merne earlier was true, that indicated more survival zone losses were soon to arrive. Traitors, one after another.
____“I’ve put in the request for more aircraft.” Nazar told her as he walked down the corridors, “But I doubt it’ll be approved in time to ferry those civilians back. They’ve doubtlessly chosen their own path forward anyway. My every step feels impeded now.”
____She noted it all, “Yes sir.”
____“We’ll also need to file a note to the Navy officers still on standby. They’re wasting resources awaiting an evac that’s suddenly on hold. I’ll want them to appeal the council’s decision, for the sake of their own usefulness.”
____The countrywide exodus Merne's council had halted. Lavender nodded, “Understood, sir.”
____He rounded the corner and walked to the hall where his personal office was located, “And give an alert to the Commander regarding the missing senator. More bombings will follow, I’m certain of it. He ought to heed my warnings. I want both of those filed within the hour.”
____His way through the door was blocked: that man Blake pouncing from where he hid between the cubicles and darting to barricade Nazar from the entrance, “Morning, Nazar. We weren’t thinking of breaching protocol by reporting around the Director, were we?”
____“Mr. Bailey, yes?” Nazar greeted dryly.
____“It’s Blake.” Came the equally dry answer. He nodded over at Lavender, “Where’s your other minion at?”
____“Who?”
____“That tall gaunt old fellow. Don’t think I never noticed him haunting about in the background wherever you go.”
____“Ah, you’re referring to Gondowl.” Nazar shrugged, “He’s off today. I can’t expect to run my people completely ragged, after all. Or maybe he’s dead. There are zombies all about you know; we can’t expect everyone to be here every time we meet up. Especially politicians—like Michael Sernier—going missing ever increasingly it seems.”
____“Indeed. I heard that the CIA lost track of some of their people too.” Blake said, “Terrible business, when even our best men don’t all make it home.”
____Nazar chuckled, “Mr. Blake, I find your subtext to be woefully insufficient in the ‘sub’ area.”
____“Then we can speak plainly. I know you’re going to spin the Sernier situation to your advantage. It’s not going to shake any of us to your side. Merne will get a handle on it.”
____“I should hope so, it’s his mess. Another week, another ‘personal friend’ selling out their loyalties. I’d have shot them all to tighten my inner circle to a reliable few by now.”
____“Mimicking the way your brother does things no doubt, and running everything your way.” Blake growled, “But that’s not how things work around here. We have properly elected officials and qualified experts to decide things rather than a single man’s whims. And they all of them know you’d rather have them shot.”
____“Yes, yes, I can feel their eyes on me at all times. Though I’d advise keeping them on our enemy instead.” Nazar forced his way around, “But I suppose that’s the duty of the military men here. At least they’re always present and accounted for whenever we meet.”
____“They’ll be more freed up once your exodus initiative has the plug pulled on it.”
____“More troops to stand there doing nothing while we slowly wither away, what brilliant strategy. The council truly has no idea what’s going on. They think our enemy are only mindless undead and simple humans. I alone recognize what’s happening here.”
____Blake scoffed, “If you’re referring to the moon, you act like no one else sees it.”
____“Anyone can see it, Mr. Blake. That’s the problem, isn’t it? Everyone’s looking up… they need to be looking down. There’s a reason their symbol features the globe, not the moon.” With that, Nazar bowed and then took his leave down the hall.
____Lavender followed, squeezing her way past Blake who remained at the doorway with his arms crossed. She frowned at him for loitering there even after his quarry escaped.
____“I can’t function with that imbecile breathing down my neck.” Nazar told her as he continued to his office, “I’m leaving for VACC-104 shortly, but I want you to remain here for the time being. They’re going to be watching you; don’t give them anything about where I’ve gone.”
____“If you insist, sir.”
____Nazar halted at the door, his hand firmly upon the handle. He could feel it, somewhere intangibly located within his stomach; a woeful sensation. That feeling—he was here. The day’s schedule irreversibly changed.
____Nazar relaxed and looked over his shoulder, “Stay outside. Under no circumstances am I to be disturbed.”
____Without needing words or expression, she understood, “Yes sir.”
____Nazar went in alone.
____It was among his more humble offices, a cramped little L of a room no more than eighteen feet across. Lack of furniture made it seem slightly bigger. Nazar strode to the only window and shut the blinds, leaving a pathetic lamp dangling too low from the ceiling the only light source. He returned to the shut door and put his hand upon the light switch, flicking one of two down. The light went off.
____It was dark. Nazar breathed, waiting for a moment in the black. He could still feel the presence. His hand felt along the light panel, finding the second switch and flipping it on. Another lamp lit up in the dark, twenty-five feet down. The wall was gone, the room suddenly larger than before. King sat there, willing such things, solely illuminated in the dark. Pale light on his pale skin.
____“Brother.” Nazar turned and faced him, “It’s been too long.”
____King had been looking at him, and his gaze did not break, “Sit.”
____There was a chessboard—one which was normally situated on the shelf against the wall opposite—set now on the plain table between them, half illuminated in the light above King. Nazar gave it a glance and walked back to the window, opening the blinds again before taking a seat.
____“I must admit I never knew what precisely you were planning to do to the world.” he commented as he went, “But zombies? I am glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”
____King said nothing, unblinking. Nazar took a seat, a dark silhouette against the light behind him. His brother sat opposite, illuminated by the pallid lamp above against the thick darkness. It was quiet.
____Nazar eyed the board, “And speaking of which, you desire to play a game with me? I’m touched. It has been a long time since we last played, hasn’t it?”
____“It has.”
____“Neither of us can find much time for games these days, but you know well that I have a soft spot for chess in particular. The randomness of other games drives me mad. chess remains…”
____“The only one that is fair.” King finished.
____Nazar smirked, “Well, that and Go. We could dodge the cliché of chess, but that would take too long, wouldn’t it? There’s also fairness in checkers, suppose we could play that—”
____King ignored him, “No chance, no imbalance: ideal for both of us. With one exception.” He picked up the king piece, holding it to his unwavering eye, “Who goes first?”
____Nazar waved his hand dismissively, “Obviously noble white goes first, of course. The villainous black must wait its turn. That makes it your move, dear brother.”
____King didn’t seem to find Nazar’s conceding terribly charming, returning the piece to the board without a word. He sat still, a second or two passing in silence. Quite suddenly one of his ivory pawns moved forward on its own, no obvious cause behind its effect.
____Nazar was amused, saying nothing of the magic trick and simply reaching out to move his own pawn manually, “I’ll elect to move my pieces the old-fashioned way.”
____They had been playing this game since they were very young, a classy skill their father insisted upon them. It was all too easy to fall back into that age, the game quickly consuming his focus. Besides, King had made a rather unorthodox move—even this early on—and that had his attention. Not fighting for the center.
____The second Nazar’s hand was off the piece King made his second move, another pawn moving all on its own. Nazar responded quickly—not instantly—and the game got off the ground at a brisk pace.
____King spoke while his pieces moved for him, not even watching the board, “I do not understand your decisions in this conflict, Nazar. Why have you stationed yourself with these humans against me? Have you found a flaw in my reasoning?”
____“Is that the purpose of this visit?” Nazar asked, eyeing the pieces in contemplation. A wide uneven front of pawns covered the center of the board, with his knights behind them. Only King’s bishops had come out to meet them so far, still an odd play. He mused, “…No, I haven’t. In fact my time here has cemented the validity of your theory. These animals are worthless, backwards, and pathetic. They’re only concerned about survival where I must concern myself with victory. And others still are only trying to see how they might enslave their fellow man out of these events. They all serve you far more than me, truly. Knight takes bishop.”
____It was the first capture of a piece other than pawns thus far. He had gradually taken more and more time to discern every move, gladly taking the lack of a timer for all it was worth. King’s turns had been and still were instantaneous, no different than a machine. Instantly his queen slid out.
____“Then why?” he inquired.
____Nazar frowned as his turn was already back to him. He pondered quietly, “Well, wouldn’t you like to know?”
____“By your own admission you have no reason to oppose me and yet you do. We had agreed once that the human race must be extinguished. I now genuinely act upon that, and in response you have joined in their defense. Has emotion finally clouded your reason—”
____“Don’t confuse me with the rest of those creatures out there. I retain my reason. Perfectly valid reasons. Rook takes pawn.” Nazar clacked one piece into another. Again an instant move on his brother’s behalf, his queen immediately sliding over and stealing the rook. The strategy he was employing was still unorthodox, such reckless captures as this, and Nazar looked up, “Your queen is left open by that play, dear brother. Are you sure you want to make that move? Is my rook that much of a threat to your grand strategy?”
____King’s eyes had never even lowered to the board to begin with, still glaring at him with the same static unblinking expression. He was sure. He was always sure of everything. Nazar frowned and read as many moves ahead as he could, trying to find the catch. But there wasn’t one. Perhaps the play was just so ridiculously far down the line he couldn’t see it, or maybe the entire game was only a mean to distract him while he talked. He had enough board control already without much consequence, so with a bizarre amount of reluctance he slid his bishop across and took the queen. Instantly his brother’s knight moved to an empty space, and it was his turn again.
____Nazar frowned and continued, clenching one hand as if he were trying to clutch his palm in his own fingers, “Let’s just say I had an epiphany of sorts. I saw a Truth that set me on this path.”
____“As did I, long ago.” King responded, “The veil was lifted before my mortal eyes and I saw beyond into the abyss. What I beheld elevated me to almost human levels of joy. So great was their suffering, I knew that I had just witnessed the end of the human spirit. I knew then that I was to be the One that banished their kind to that place for entirety. And I was given the power to do so, by my own accord. Of all the life that has ever been, most are dead and burning. The rest are but fingers dug into the cliffside, and we need only pry them all until the dead weight can finally fall forever.”
____“Finality. No greater justice could be done.” Nazar said bitterly.
____“Then be there to see it to the final silence. Permit me to make you as you made me that day at Sunholly Avenue. We planned this thing together, let us execute it together.”
____“Sadly I cannot.” Nazar slid his last rook to safety, taking a pawn with it, “Hmm. Tell me, how do you plan to take the little islands? For all intents and purposes everything is the same over there. I’m certain you don’t have enough insurgents to infect them all? Or do you plan to send your human soldiers over? Wouldn’t that take a long while, even if it worked.”
____Silence, save for the sliding of a knight into another pawn.
____Nazar talked as he pondered his next move, “It must be expensive, arming all my humans to wage war against me. I wouldn’t have thought you’d go for something like that, favoring machines and those brainless dead like you do.”
____“Every mean shall be used against you.” King explained, “For every system there are those who strive to destroy it. The flaws turn them bitter and vengeful by necessity, and as such they are willing to perish to do it harm. Yes, I use your humans against you, because they allow themselves to be used. It hinders you, and even when they are destroyed it is a victory for me, as it puts brother against brother, and I want them all dead.”
____“Wasting my precious resources.” Nazar concluded, “And your many benefactors all foot the bill. You always were popular among the one-percenters, stupidly convincing themselves that they could master this culling and come out on top: rich rulers of a depopulated Earth, beholden only to a meager army of grateful slaves.” He drummed his fingers on the board in contemplation, finally choosing to move his threatened queen to safety, “It sounds very tempting if you are wealthy, confident, and ignorant—and I’ve seen plenty of that even in my short time here. But anyone who’s met you ought to know that the real plan has always been that no one survives. I imagine you let Elias do all that schmoozing for you; he does seem far more agreeable.”
____“His simple demeanor has done you more damage than you could ever know. It is a common human failing to let sweetness sell you folly. But your contempt is already plain enough to see, so why not let them die?”
____Again another knight move. Check.
____Nazar pondered the direction in which to move his king, “Ah, that’s it. The moon. As it nears you can just drown any little islands, of course. But if you were going to rely on heavenly bodies you could’ve just waited a bit longer for Lumis’ Comets to destroy us all. Save you a lot of work. King to F4. Uncheck.” He slid the piece across, “Speaking of which, may I know what the wings are for?”
____“They are my Tethers.” King’s final rook slid into position.
____“Might you elaborate?” Nazar moved a bishop into the opening the rook’s movement granted, “Bishop takes Knight. Check.”
____King finally lowered his gaze to their game, sitting in silence for a moment or two. He looked back up, “You are going to lose.”
____“I control the board. Granted your odd choices have been throwing me for a bit of a loop, but it’s costing you now in the late game. Making me second-guess myself at the cost of bad trades. It won’t pay off—even when slowed with reluctance I will still always choose the best play. Now make your move.” Nazar watched the enemy king slide to safety, then took the third-to-last pawn with his queen, dodging the last of the two knights that had been hounding her all game. Few enemy pieces remained now, though none were cornered.
____King didn’t budge, “You try too hard to protect your lesser ranks.”
____“Save your advice for after you’ve won. Knight to G5. Check.”
____The enemy king moved aside. Nazar took another white pawn, moving quickly as the game neared its end, setting up another check in the process. Another move away. Queen to make setup, rook in position. The window was closing fast. His brother moved his knight, threatening the trap, and in response Nazar moved the queen to evade it. Enemy rook slid into Check. The vast perpendicular coverage of that piece represented the final threat, and it was a clear effort to move his king away from the black retinue surrounding it. Nazar smugly moved his pawn into a blocking spot adjacent instead.
____Instantly King’s knight moved into its own Check. “Checkmate.” he announced.
____Nazar gawked at it, bewildered. So few enemy pieces left. But the board advantage was now turned on its head: he had blocked his king in with his pawn and it now sat cornered crowded among its own ranks—the one oversight he had been goaded into making too quickly. He sat in silence, stubbornly trying to see a way out, refusing to accept the call without confirming it himself. “I made a mistake.” he bluntly said, still trying to digest his loss.
____“Such is your human condition. Were it not for your capacity to be rash and arrogant and unthinking in the moment you may have won, but you are no computer. That which is capable of erring will never be enough to triumph over me. Even you are insufficient.” King glanced carelessly at the board, rising to his feet, “I told you already: you try too hard to protect your lesser ranks.”
____“How profound.” Nazar retorted, unable to stifle the bitterness in his tone, “You use the other pieces to win in this game, you know.”
____“Only one ultimately matters. But at least your queen survived.” King turned to leave, “I am needed elsewhere.”
____“Brother.” Nazar’s words stopped him. He remained sat, arms tightly crossed and glare still fixed on the chess board where he’d lost to his own means, speaking through clenched teeth, “I swear to you, what I’m doing is right, and reasonable, even if it might only make sense to me. The Truth is the Truth, even if only a single person on this Earth recognizes it. I’ve lost nothing of what Father taught us.”
____“You insist to remain a student of that wretch…”
____“I insist. And I will prevail.”
____“So you will? And to achieve this victory you will side with these humans you so hate, and use their whole bickering backstabbing race to win against me? Them, against my Power?” King glanced back over his shoulder, “Good luck.”
____He then walked into the dark, gone despite the room’s size.
____Nazar started to rise but stopped himself. He grimaced and slumped back down, scowling at the board which had remained. Still angry at the loss, at himself, because he had acted without thinking. His gaze fell to the black queen, standing tall in defeat. Nazar scowled harder and reached out, flicking the piece over. It fell, clattering against the board.

ii

____Stacey sat up front in the first of the two cars, where she could give directions to Thorn as they navigated the countryside. She had at first given him wrong answers on where to go, dying internally from the dread of what they were about to do and yet remaining unable to voice her discontent. She felt exactly how she did before, with him, back then… Time and time again spent with friends or family blissfully unaware of what was happening to her: her always just sitting there able to speak up and cry for help only to not do so again and again. Always knowing at one point that it would be too late, that everything would crack open and all the trauma would spill out and everyone—including her—would ask why she didn’t just say something? Here she was, with all that knowledge on her résumé, watching it happen again and still not saying anything.
____I don’t know. Stacey knew that was always the answer, I know it’ll be the same way again. I know from experience how this plays out, and I still can’t do it. Why? Am I that much of a doormat? Do I really care that much about him having his way? For the sake of his own trauma and obsession? Or is it all for Abbey? She sunk deeper into her seat in shame, We have to avenge her baby, don’t we? Everything that happened to her happened because of me. She saved me through her own suffering. Can I really protect Silvin just to protect myself? Isn’t that horrible? Her hand reached to the eye that Silvin’s knife had threatened on that day, feeling the skin bordering it that would be cut now if not for Abbey. That eye had cost someone their life.
____Thorn somehow sensed that she was in anguish, giving her a sideways glance and a look of concern, though it was only mild, “You okay?”
____“I… Thorn, I…”
____“Yes?”
____“I don’t…” she only began, the subsequent long silence allowing the moment to pass as the way opened up ahead. The highest spires of the plant were visible, capturing Thorn’s attention.
____“That’s it?” he asked, eyes back on the road and picking up speed.
____“Yes.”
____Thorn eyed it over as he rapidly approached. It was some sort of mill as far as he could discern: mostly remote, with hardly any other buildings about it to enter or fight from. Two main centers, railroad tracks between them and stretching on outwards. Any parking or connecting roads must be on the opposite side of the plant, hidden from his sight. Catwalks connecting the towers and silos around and within it. And lots of zombies all about. He frowned at this, knowing their presence would make stealth impossible: they’d get riled up no matter how slow and hidden the approach. Better to sweep in and out with the wheels which would consistently outpace them.
____He maintained a fast approach, “Stay in the car if you can. Just drive away if the zombies swarm the vehicle. Here we go.”
____“Okay.” Stacey answered, barely audible. There ahead lay the factory, that she had tried so hard to escape from. Having reinforcements at her back didn’t make her feel any safer, but still she said nothing of it. On the jeep went, with Thorn and Header ready to leap out and engage the enemy. The second vehicle, driven by Thomas and housing more gun-toters, was close behind.
____The moment was now irreversible. In they went.

____Alex Silvin was in his office, just about to enjoy a cup of tea he’d brewed himself when he heard the roaring of car engines in the distance. He stood, blowing the rising steam off the cup, walking to the vast window behind the desk and peering out to the flat landscape beyond. The newly arrived train had possessed no expected escort.
____Two Humvees were out there, approaching fast from the east. They weren’t raiders, certainly, nor were they a military convoy. They also weren’t Apostle either. Seeing this, Silvin set aside the cup and walked out, returning quickly with a scoped battle rifle. Peering down the weapon’s sights for a closer view, he smirked and watched them advance.
____“No…” he muttered to himself, “It couldn’t be. They couldn’t be that stupid.”

____“We’re coming up now!” Thorn said, pointing to the towering structure dead-ahead as they barreled toward it.
____Behind him Sgt. Header grimaced and leaned forward into the front, one hand on the wheel in preparation for Thorn’s exit. The speeding car hastened harder, jostling its passengers as it bounded across the flat but unpaved ground. The Sergeant suppressed a grin at this recklessness, again feeling the rush of combat coming on, “Git ready! You locked-an’-loaded, kid?”
____“I’ve been ready all my life for this!” the Corporal replied.
____Thum!! Crack!! Two holes punched through the windshield as they approached, followed a millisecond after by their accompanying gunshots. Stacey screamed, and Header swore and swerved, “Welp, they’ve seen us! We’re hot!”
____“I’m out now!” Thorn shouted, the jeep swerving and screeching to a quick halt just long enough for him to spill out and go running across the open ground: weapon tight in his hands.
____BANG!! BANG!! More gunshots cracked after him, spewing loose dirt into the air behind his racing steps. Thorn ran fast to the closest structure—a fat cylindrical tower—and hid behind it. He could see the jeep behind him, the angles of the holes against the windshield, and knew to look up as he peered around the sloping corner. There, up at the summit of the factory’s main structure was the overseeing glass of a wide-windowed office. The perfect vantage point for a factory foreman—or a sniper. The shots had come from there.
____The screeching of a radio coming to life filled the air as a loudspeaker came on, echoing all throughout the area. Out came Silvin’s voice, “I see you there, Christian! I’d nearly given up hope of a reunion when she escaped on her own. So you were actually dumb enough to try for me! I’m touched!”
____“No more games, murderer!” Thorn shouted back, muttering the rest to himself as he raced to find a way up the tower, “No more hiding, no more escaping… You hurt Stacey; one of us dies here and now!”
____Header meanwhile had also escaped the jeep, seeing the shots following Thorn and chancing for a safe exit. He pounded one of the back windows as he ran, “One o’ you take the wheel! Move!” With that, he ran off to find some cover where he could support Thorn’s advance, hunkering down behind a circular concrete foundation not far from the car and leaning his rifle on it. Without some covering fire the Corporal wouldn’t get far.
____He didn’t like what he saw. Less than a hundred yards ahead was the main lot of the facility: the large structure where Silvin was on the left and a smaller mill on the right. Between was a large open alley with tracks running through it. While he saw only a few soldiers there, that area was absolutely swarming with the undead. And they had already sensed the live prey. Silvin had lots of friends here, even if only a handful were human. They didn’t have long to eliminate their target and get out.
____Within the office Silvin stood watching the debacle unfold, one foot leaned against the panes, rifle raised. Thorn had dipped out of sight, hiding behind the farthest tower, but Silvin knew he’d be back: forced to approach for a better shot at the high-up enemy position. In the meantime he turned his attention to the second moving car, hammering it with gunfire lest it get too close. The semiautomatic weapon lashed out powerful lead with each quick squeeze of the trigger, and the vehicle swerved as its hood was shredded. He shouted into the microphone set next to him, “I didn’t think you’d bring friends!”

____“Woah!” down below Thomas veered hard to the right as the front of the car lit up with sparks, the sound of heavy denting like dense metal hail falling down. The engine couldn’t survive shots like that, and the jeep went this way and that along the uneven terrain as he threw the wheel back and forth, jostling its passengers.
____“Ow! Careful!” Irene shouted at him from the back seat, crammed alongside Gene and Gauge.
____Something was spraying out of the damaged hood and muddying the windshield, Thomas throwing on the wipers and trying to get somewhere safe while the automobile still could. Up ahead in the shadow of the factory lay the railway tracks, flanked on both sides by large shipping containers. A vacant jet-black train sat there toward the back, likely awaiting loading. Around that vicinity a large crowd of zombies stood gathered, already riled at the noise of the gunshots. This was bad. Gripping the wheel tight, Thomas slammed on the brakes and halted the jeep right before the first container, narrowly avoiding crashing into it. He could only hope Silvin couldn’t shoot them from this spot, too angled from his vantage point.
____Brooke saw him loading his pistol and getting out of the car, “What are you doing?”
____“Being an extra target.” he answered, “The more of us there are to shoot at, the more divided his attention becomes, and the closer Thorn can get. He kills Silvin and we can get the hell out of here.” He turned to Gene in the back, “You with me?”
____“Well…”
____“Your fancy machinegun can actually hit him!”
____“Well, okay.” Gene hobbled out of the car, Gauge following him should a reload be needed. Irene didn’t linger in the vehicle either.
____With another gunshot striking the roof of the jeep, they all scattered among the containers. Thomas pressed tight against the nearest one, hearing an unnerving rattling from within, and peered around the corner. More gunshots answered him, these coming from lower ground. There were other soldiers down here, racing out of the factory to answer the sudden battle. Thomas darted back quick and gulped. Time to get to work.
____The five of them were out of sight now, and Silvin had returned to shooting the first of the two cars, which was still out in the open trying to evade him. Oriel had taken the wheel of that one. Thomas could hear the distinct sounds of Header firing his M16—a few bursts of return fire—and Silvin’s own shots momentarily ceased. Must have finally been forced to cover.
____Thomas again leaned around the corner, seeing a soldier in the shade of the building across the tracks and aiming to shoot. A surge of undead answered him first, Thomas quickly backing up and firing into their oncoming ranks as they collapsed around him. His back pressed against the container behind and he heard more violent rattling.
____“They’re full of zombies.” he realized aloud.
____“You picked a bad spot.” Irene told him.
____“My options were limited at the time.”
____She surveyed her surroundings quickly, then just ducked off on her own, leaving him, “This entire place is a bad spot. I’m not letting that idiot soldier get us all killed. I’ll be back.”
____Loathe as he was to admit it she was right. He’d crashed somewhere where they could be safe from the sniper fire above, but they were now pinned down in the mire of zombies and soldiers below. The massed herd of undead slowly closed in on their position even now. Runners trickled ahead of the main body. Thomas killed them as they came, one by one, knowing he couldn’t keep up forever.
____“Brooke, hide!” he shouted, trying to take a sensible command like Header would, “Gene, shoot that gun at anything that moves!”
____Gene was only shooting in very short bursts, unable to really handle his new weapon’s recoil. He yelped and hit the dirt at the first signs of enemy return-fire, “Actually, I was thinking we should leave!”
____“Not until the rest of them are ready to! We’re taking this heat so it’s not all centered on Thorn, got it?”
____Gene glanced southward, where a very distant Cpl. Thorn could still be seen ascending his way up toward the sniper’s nest, “Well, okay.”

____Thorn quickly circled the tower, finding a ladder leading up. He could see catwalks connecting every structure of this place together with the main building. This tower led to another one which led to the factory proper: all the way up to that office Silvin was lurking in. That was the obvious path forward.
____Using Header’s covering fire, the Corporal raced up the ladder and ran along the catwalk. Here he had a good vantage of the grounds below, where he could see all his friends and the many zombies beginning to swarm the area. He took only a brief moment to fire off a few rounds: popping the heads of the fastest monsters before they could reach the five civvies clustered around the containers by the tracks. Thomas had parked them in a bad spot: between the buildings and taking all the heat from the soldiers down there. But Thorn couldn’t linger to cover them for long. He had a job to do.
____“They can take care of themselves.” he assured himself, running now to the second tower, “They agreed to come here knowing they’d have to fight!”
____He again heard the rapid firing of Silvin’s weapon as he neared the ladder. It was a rifle of some kind: a semi-auto with a high rate of fire, magazine capacity unknown. He had no good line of sight upon the office yet, but was certain that Silvin would have no problem seeing him from that vantage point. Thorn scowled, forced to wait until he could get some more cover fire, impatiently fingering the grenade still hanging from his vest.
____Silvin’s voice echoed from the loudspeakers, laughing, “What’re you hiding from, Corporal? As always you force me to punish you!”
____Another round of gunshots. Thorn scowled harder but did not act. To rashly expose himself now would only get him killed.
____The fire remained focused on the exposed car. Oriel yelped, backing up as fast as he could to keep moving. He hit something and the car halted. Glass exploded as their windows shattered.
____Stacey yelled at the youth pastor, “What are you doing, you idiot?! Move!”
____“I don’t think I can.” he said, fiddling with the shift-stick.
____Reed groaned and threw the door open, “For the love of…! Get out!”
____He exited and hid behind the stuck vehicle, carefully shooting one oncoming zombie after another as they raced up. More of the monsters approached by the second as their group dawdled here, permitting him no time to shoot back at their host in the office above. Header was in the same boat to his right, only occasionally chancing fire at Silvin’s position between constant head-popping of incoming runners and Initiated.
____They were both good shots, those two, but Stacey knew they couldn’t fend off this entire horde. Zombies ahead, zombies to the sides slowly closing in. The other half of their number was way ahead, caught in their own encirclement. Fast sprinters could be picked off, but the walls of bodies descending on their halted positions couldn’t be stopped by a couple guns. This was a complete slaughter waiting to happen. All for the sake of Thorn, far ahead of the rest of them, inching his way up to Silvin’s office bit by bit. Just so he could kill one man.
____Further gunshots hitting the jeep’s hood made Stacey jump. She ducked down and tried to hide, clutching her head and flinching at every distant noise. All regret came running back to her at once, like a body of water loosed through shattering glass.
____“What am I doing?” she asked herself aloud, “Why did I agree to come back here?! We have to leave!” She whirled to Oriel, “We have to get out of here! Can’t you get this thing moving?!”
____“I—uh, but, they…!” he said, stumbling over words in some fruitless effort to excuse what they were all doing.
____“Ugh!” Stacey left him in the jeep where he could uselessly hesitate all he wanted on his own. She stepped out into the open, screaming over the gunshots at Thorn up on the tower ahead: ascending the very same path she’d escaped from, “Thorn!! You’re killing us! Let’s go, let’s go!!”
____But he either couldn’t hear her or chose not to, just playing duck and cover waiting for his chance to wade even deeper into the danger.
____“THORN!!!” she shrieked, stamping her foot.
____Silvin at least paid her some attention—seeing her standing there screaming her head off at the Corporal—and stifling a good laugh about it. Smiling devilishly, he took aim at her and muttered to himself, “You actually came back? This is too rich. You didn’t have to prove me right. Here you go, Thorn.”
____He squeezed the trigger: BANG!!
____His one shot landed, Stacey’s stomach bursting blood as the slug punched through her. She screamed and fell, landing on her back and wailing in pain.
____The change in tone of her yelling from berating to agony turned Thorn’s head. “Silvin!!” he roared, rounding the corner but immediately falling back to fire. Only his utmost discipline kept him from charging right into the hail of bullets, knowing he couldn’t afford to die for nothing. As Silvin shot at him he could see Header down there racing to recover Stacey, pulling her behind the jeep where she would be relatively safe from further shots. But not from the slowly closing zombies.
____Thorn wanted to be down there, but he kept himself right where he was. Silvin dies. he knew, Silvin has to die or it’s all for nothing. He has to die. Nothing else matters. Nothing matters until he’s dead. You can’t go back now until you’ve gone forward!
____“Come and get me, Christian.” Silvin’s voice echoed through the speakers, “You’re not gonna call it quits now, are you? What’s one more, eh? Did the others not matter so much? What’s one more?!”

As always let me know what you think

~TAF

[TGRF]

Sorry for the delay, I've been preoccupied with other matters. I'll attempt to stay more on top of it going forwards.

Chapter 10:

Spoiler Alert!

She couldn’t be over forty: autumn hair and eyes,

I feel like this is just a clever description, using a word that isn't actually a color to describe a mix of colors. Something I'd like to get better at. On the chance that you actually meant 'auburn' though, I thought I'd mention it.

walking over to assist in the observing of the scene,

A good humorous line I appreciated.

Thorn glanced at him, “What? …Ah, yes, the beds. They’re bound to have at least one easy chair or sofa in those houses.”

I feel like I'm missing something here. This is the second reference in this chapter to Thomas being adverse to beds... I don't recall that being a thing...

While I appreciate Jaxson making the moral decision to go get Stacey, I have to question the logic of it. He knows where she is, and that Silvin - using her as bait to get Thorn - will presumably not kill her. He also knows that she's in a secured area surrounded by not only zombies, but soldiers. It would make far more sense to do exactly what James wants and return to Thorn. Then you could go after Stacey in force. Why gimp the rescue effort this way?

Interestingly, while I would say Thomas and Brooke were the clearest protagonists in TMHW, I find myself rooting far more for Stacey in this story, even to the point of seeing Thomas with a certain level of neutrality now. This is partly due to my post-TMHW break down of the characters, where I realized how much Stacey had going for her. But certainly these recent chapters with her have compounded that effect, especially as they show her having way more strength than she thinks she does. If you asked me right now who I want to make it out of this the most, it would be Stacey.

~TGRF.