APOSTLE'S CREED - a zombie story

[TheAverageFan]

Spoiler Alert!

I know you've mentioned before your desire to use 'free indirect speech', where you can float freely from pov to pov. I think I've voiced before in TMHW my comments about what this does to establishing protagonists early on, but in scenes like this, where there are two distinct groups doing the same things presumably only a few feet from each other, I have to say it gets confusing and hard to keep track of who is where. Going back, I think we're just shifting between Thomas and Thorn, who are in the same truck, but even so it's hard to keep track. I'd be interested to know why free indirect speech is something you like to employ. What advantages does it offer?

The jumping back and forth is not free indirect speech but rather just something I chose to employ in the writing of these novels, especially in situations like this where it's too fast to have proper breaks in the paragraphs to jump PoVs. Clearly insufficiently employed, as the reason we're jumping between Thomas and Thorn is because they're in two separate trucks, not the same one.

Free indirect speech is just third person emulating parts of first person in its narration, where the PoV character's view colors the otherwise distant narration. Any examples of what feel like first person but aren't technically direct thoughts the character is thinking as if speaking would be free indirect speech.

This is what happened in The Last of Us on HBO at one point - they were doing fine, and then entered a city for literally no reason and instantly ran into trouble.

I assume it made sense in the video game.

It was a rough-yet-feminine voice

Silvin has a feminine voice?

I waffled back and forth on including this detail so far in. Adib had said in TMHW that Silvin sounds like a woman, except that he didn't because when I went back to check it seems that line was cut. My bad

Whatever, anyways happy Halloween to all you Heroscapers! Obviously this constitutes my Halloween story for the year; also it's the seven year anniversary of the first post of this thread!

~TAF

 

[TheAverageFan]

Chapter 7

Many apologies for the delay. Next chapter, fittingly titled "Answers"

Spoiler Alert!

7
Answers

i​

____He could still feel those reeling moments now, even as if they had just occurred:
____Jaxson had watched, helpless but ready, as Silvin closed the door behind him. “Cover your ears.” He simply said, aiming and shooting as Jaxson obeyed. BANG!!!
____The crest of his shoulder exploded in blood, Jaxson collapsing and gasping. His head fell against the open ledge they’d gone out to, down becoming up as his eyes rolled. There were countless zombies above him on the ground, swarming and swarming about the site, some even reaching their arms down at him.
____“Hey, hey!” He was hoisted back up, eyes forced to meet Silvin again. The terrorist’s fingers snapped in front of Jaxson’s face, lulling him back to reality from the pain.
____“Uh…!” Was all Jaxson could manage to mutter. The intensity of the fresh wound’s agony draped over the unhealed other’s made him near-delirious.
____“Pay attention!” Silvin hissed, “I want you to get out of here while you can. Head west: we’ve likely passed where the rest of your number is.”
____“...What…?”
____Silvin took off Stacey’s hat and stuck it in Jaxson’s good hand, “Find Thorn. Give him this. Tell him that I have his precious civilian. Tell him that I’m doing horrible, horrible things to her and that he’d better hurry quick.”
____Jaxson looked at the hat. His role clicked. He staggered to his feet, struggling against the pain of the shoulder wound. It was much less of a graze than his last shot had been, pounding agony in the place where the flesh should be. Still he managed to stand.
____“I… I…” He began, “No! Let her go! Keep me as your prisoner!”
____“Sorry, big boy. You already volunteered for this.”
____“Silvin!” Jaxson clutched his good hand and swung. Alex was already out of the way. His knee came slamming up into Jaxson’s stomach, making him crumple a second time, “Ah…!”
____Silvin stooped down, “You’ve got a couple seconds to get up and make yourself scarce. My men will kill you if they see you. And the zombies will get you too if they can. Exit’s that way. Better hurry. To save her, to kill me… whatever motivates you best.”
____“Ugh…” Jaxson got up, feeling the blood on the steel grating he lay on. A ladder not far from his immediate left led to a second catwalk down to one of the factory’s towers. There another ladder led down to the ground. He forced stamina into his system and got crawling, then worked his way up to limping, and walking from there.
____He made it to the ladder and looked down. Zombies were everywhere across the grounds. He’d never seen so many in one place, not even in Chicago’s streets.
____“Oh sh*t, oh sh*t…” He muttered, “Okay, okay… Here we go…”
____He slid down the ladder, feet hitting the ground hard. With that he turned and began a slow injured jog, weaving between any undead slow enough to simply lumber at most. Bloodloss cut his pace and fueled the zombie’s desire. But even as he fled he only picked up a small pack after him. Something was holding the attention of most of the army, keeping them there at the factory. What that might’ve been he couldn’t tell.
____I’ll be back. I swear I’ll be back! He’d silently vowed as he retreated, retreated like a coward, just like Silvin asked. Even after promising never to do so again. The onset of that night’s rain followed him as he fled.

____The FOB was mostly intact despite the battle, albeit small in size and mostly looted by the looks of it. There remained no sign of its previous inhabitants, nor any indication of where they might’ve gone. The group would have to take charge of it for the time being.
____Thorn bound their sole prisoner and kept him out of earshot while Header located the communications center. Like before, he fiddled with some knobs and flipped some switches, the machinery fizzling to life and hissing static. “This oughta have better odds of reaching VACC, or at least Oakerley if he’s still in the area.” he said, “We need to report in and then scram if they can’t send for us right on the spot.”
____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.
____But perhaps there was hope. Header managed to contact VACC again, getting a line opened and waiting for an answer.
____Before long a reply came through on the radio: Lynn’s voice answering, “This is VACC-104, over. Is that you, Oakerley?”
____“Negative.” Header replied, “It’s us, Lynn.”
____“Sergeant! Thank God you made it!”
____“Well, it ain’t all hunky-dory.” Header fiddled with one of the open laptops laying before the radios, “Let me see if I can bring you up here.”
____Her face soon appeared on the screen, one eyebrow already raised, “What is it?”
____“There were hostiles here, for starters. We can’t find Lt. Oakerley or his men anywhere.”
____Lynn stood, “Nazar is here right now. Let me get him, he might know.”
____Header watched her go, mumbling, “Lovely…”
____Thomas understood his grumblings. Nazar. He had saved them all before, Brooke twice according to what little she’d said of him. And it was his labs that were studying the virus in search of a cure. But other than that, he was distant and mysterious, and not in a good way. He’d been well-aware of Professor Joetex’s offers of a potential cure and had left them to rot. People had died while that email sat in a junk folder, Joetex had killed himself waiting for someone to come and take his attempt at repentance before it was too late. That was only the stuff Thomas knew about, he didn’t doubt there was plenty more.
____But all that being said, VACC was Nazar’s facility. The generosity of the sanctuary they’d all piggybacked off of during the apocalypse was undeniable. It was where they were planning on hiding after this adventure. It made him the boss.
____“Sergeant.” Nazar’s deep monotone voice answered before he became visible, taking Lynn’s spot and glaring into the camera. He was wearing the exact same navy suit and little eye pendant as the last time Thomas had seen him, and given his perfectly groomed state it wasn’t because the apocalypse denied him a wardrobe. All of VACC’s other inhabitants piled in behind him, peering curiously in to see how their distant friends were doing. Nazar ignored their crowding about him, “Tell me what’s happened.”
____Header nodded grimly, “Sir, we can’t find heads or tails of Oakerley’s men. This base is empty, save fer their stuff and a whole bunch of men wearin’ Apostle gear.”
____One sentence in and Montag couldn’t help but butt in, leaning forward and raising an eyebrow, “Apostle?”
____“The ones running the lab, and almost definitely the ones piloting those helicopters.” Thomas explained as simply as he could, “They were like army soldiers. As if the zombies weren’t enough.”
____“So it’s begun in earnest.” Nazar said, not elaborating further than that, “Header, if Oakerley’s men are alive you should be able to contact them with that equipment there. He’d been using frequency 11.1, and the correct sign is Petrol. The countersign will be Eagle. We’re using fresh ones daily now, understand?”
____“Yessir. I’ll check in once we’re through here.” Header replied.
____“Good. Now, we should get you back here immediately.”
____“Sir, I haven’t cleared the area personally.” The Sergeant said, grimacing, “In a city, knowing human enemies might be around. I must say this LZ is hot, sir.”
____Brooke frowned, “Can’t you send a helicopter a little ways outside the city, Nazar?”
____“I don’t have so many helicopters to risk these days.” He replied.
____Now it was Miles’ turn to butt in, “We can risk it for them, man! They’ve got the cure, you know!”
____Header’s already-grim expression darkened further, “Well, actually…”
____Miles stared blankly at him, eyes darting to the others he could see of their group and finding no comfort there. His mouth fell open, “You didn’t…”
____“We lost it.” Header confirmed, “We’re jus’ tryin’ to get back now.”
____“Maybe, I…” Brooke struggled to find the words to get her point across, “I cut my hand on it back at the lab. There might be some still left in me!”
____Nazar didn’t look fazed, “You needn’t bother. That won’t do anything.”
____“What?!”
____He crossed his arms, “You fools needlessly endangered yourselves for nothing. You snooped through my things and made your own conclusions from what little you’d stolen off with. Did you really think I hadn’t considered what Joetex was saying when he contacted me? Did you ask me what should be done of the situation? Of course not. You all conspired behind my back to do something ‘brave’ and decided to head out on your own. Never once considering that since I ignored it, that meant it was a worthless lead?”
____Brooke scowled, flaring at his words, “Shelley and Stanley died to get that cure! It couldn’t have been for nothing! How could you know?”
____“They died so it must have been worth something? What backwards thinking, existing only to justify itself.” Nazar said, “Trust me: there is nothing Harold Joetex could have done to thwart the virus.”
____“How could you possibly know that for certain?” Thomas asked, “I saw the emails. He never said what its makeup was. How could you know it didn’t work?”
____“I just know. Now, enough pointless heroism. The best thing for you all to do right now is to return to VACC, and stay there where it’s safe. Leave the rest to me.”
____“It can’t have been for nothing…” Brooke muttered, “After all we did? We weren’t guided this way for nothing… My prayers wouldn’t have led to nothing.”
____Thomas watched her struggle to cope. The emptiness of the universe could be crushing, he knew, people always trying to assign purpose where there was none: because a coherent existence made sense and was easier to live in. He could do what little he could to help her, speaking up: “Apostle sent someone to dispose of it. They’ve been hounding us for days. They certainly didn’t think it was a worthless venture. The one who destroyed it must have thought it was a threat.”
____Header nodded in agreement, “Guy was willing to get hit by a car to take it.”
____Nazar seemed to understand, “And he endured it? A man with dark eyes?”
____The Sergeant nodded, “Long silver-blonde hair and heavy armor. Endured my bullets too. He wasn’t with the others: showed up out of nowhere and vanished just as fast.”
____Nazar strangely cackled at this, “I see you met King. Fortunate to have survived. Yes, perhaps it was worth something in that case… some effect on Joetex’s own lab-grown creations if nothing else. Even that small a caveat would’ve drawn King’s ire.”
____Irene perked up at the name-drop, “You know that bastard butcher?”
____“All too well.” Nazar answered, “That ‘butcher’ is the founder and leader of Apostle: the creator of the virus and as such the chief architect of this apocalypse. I imagine those wings are his doing as well. It seems you did merit his time, interesting…”
____The wings. He must be talking about the moon, Thomas figured. But that hardly explained anything. No, of course it just made things more confusing. “He put the wings there?” he asked, the disbelief in his voice plain.
____“Yes, and that likely makes him the source of the supernatural lunacy people keep talking about.”
____“How? How is that even remotely feasible?”
____Nazar answered unphased, “It’s simple. He willed them there.”
____“He just willed it!? That’s impossible!” Brooke bluntly denied.
____Nazar sat up, “If that’s what you believe then this conversation ends here. Yes, he willed it. Impossible, same as a man being struck by a car and shot and killed and yet continuing to move is impossible. But to him it’s as natural as breathing is to you or me. Anyone who knows him well won’t deny it. And why shouldn’t he be capable of such things? After all, with but a small amount of faith one can say to a mountain: ‘move from here to there’, and it will move. Isn’t that correct?”
____It was a verse of course, so Thomas glanced to Brooke. But she didn’t say anything, looking pained as she searched for words: “...”
____Nazar seemed to sense this and focused on her specifically. “Well?” he demanded of her, “You either believe it or you don’t!”
____She knew he was asking her to admit to something that sounded ridiculous, “I… Of course I do!”
____“Of course you do.” He echoed, leaning back in his chair and musing on her, “Ever the faithful one. She does seem kind, and she tries very hard to believe… but will she actually be permitted to enter the kingdom of heaven? It seems doubtful.”
____Brooke was still grappling with what he had said of the stranger’s power, “But… he’s evil! He created this virus and stamped out our cure and killed Jarek! Faithful evil isn’t rewarded!”
____“Is he evil?” Nazar questioned, “Aiming to destroy humanity completely? Not just a specific race or belief, but the entirety of it? Nothingness is what he seeks: that lifelessness that was once the natural order of this universe. It speaks more of a deafening neutrality than of evil. I personally find his motives to be quite noble. Perhaps his powers are the blessings of a just god?”
____Irene scowled at him, “Whose side are you on, you little creep?!”
____“You hafta admit,” Louis added, stooping down to Nazar’s level, “you do sound a little too chummy with the guy.”
____Nazar pushed him away before nonchalantly shrugging at the accusations, “Rest assured I am on your side. He will be stopped. I will do everything in my power to thwart him, that you can believe. But I will not curse his name. He’s my brother.”
____“Your brother?” Thomas asked, “Like, familial brother?”
____“Correct.” Nazar confirmed, “Now you know why I am so instrumental in repelling this disaster. He felt no need to hide his plans from me when we were younger men, before I helped to create what you see him as now. Without me there would be no VACC bases, no quick military response to the disaster, and no efforts to stop what’s coming next.”
____“I truly fail to see the resemblance… Do you know why he’s doing all this?”
____Nazar clicked his tongue, “King believes in the idea of absolute judgment. That sin can only be corrected through death, and that of course applies to all humans. He has decided that he must be the one to carry out this judgment. He tolerates no imperfection.”
____Irene didn’t quite follow, “What’s all that supposed to mean?”
____His eyes drifted Brooke’s way, but she again didn’t say anything. Thomas took it upon himself to explain: “What he’s saying is that any wrongdoing is punishable by death, any at all is enough to render you imperfect and therefore subject to damnation. And any sin will do: Murder? Death. That time you told a little fib to your mother and said you did brush your teeth before bed? Death. There’s no difference.”
____She scoffed, “Well that doesn’t sound very fair.”
____“No, it certainly doesn’t.” Thomas agreed, “Of course there’s also the concept of original sin on top of that: that even if you somehow managed to make it through life without sinning even once you’re still damned simply because of your lineage dating back to the first sin. So no matter how innocent you may be, you’ll still be booking a ticket to hell where you can bunk with Adolf for all eternity. Even if everyone else would agree that you don’t deserve the same fate as someone like that, it doesn’t matter. Those who believe get a pass, everyone else gets their second death. God only judges in binary it seems, because He’s so merciful you know. This is the stuff they don’t tell you about when you sign up.”
____Nazar nodded, “King isn’t going to wait for some god to sort everything out. Death takes every man eventually, but sin endures through the species’ continual procreation. He is going to end that once and for all: both giving you all what you’ve earned and making sure that the cycle never again continues. Nothing is going to sway him from that. Indeed if telling a simple lie to your mother is the worst thing you’ve ever done, he will still kill you for it. He isn’t in any way concerned with mankind’s everlasting journey to subjectively sort out the morality of each individual fault.” He smirked, “You could say he’s doing the Lord’s work. After all, every last one of you manages to get by convincing yourselves that what you’ve done isn’t so bad, or is somehow excusable.”
____“Well if I may…” Header noted at his tone, “If he’s your kin and you got nothin’ but admiration for the worldwide genocide he’s pushin’, then why are you tryin’ to stop ‘im at all?”
____“I have my reasons, Sergeant.”
____“… … …Can I hear ‘em?”
____“No.” Nazar stood, “Now, we’ve talked plenty long enough. Unfortunately I’m due at another base soon, so I must be on my way. Contact Oakerley if he’s alive, and find a way back to VACC as soon as possible. And when you get here, stay here.”
____“Hmm. Yes sir.” Header grumbled.
____Lynn leaned back in to take center stage on the cam where Nazar had been, “You all take care and get back soon, okay?”
____“We’ll try.” Brooke assured her, “We won’t be long, I promise.”
____Miles nodded, “See ya.”
____Header cut the connection. “Damn.” he muttered, “I was hopin’ we’d get easy evac from here, so th’ rest of us could focus on findin’ Jaxson and Stacey. But we’re not even gettin’ a damn airlift.”
____“Yeah.” Thomas said, wondering what Nazar had meant by not being able to risk helicopters. How few was he left with? Didn’t he have all the resources in the world to work with? What the hell was happening out there in the big picture?
____Brooke seemed more optimistic, assuring them both: “They’ll be okay. James will find them.”
____Irene scoffed, “And bring them here to this warzone.”
____Header nodded, “Yeah, yeah. Gimmie a second to tune this frequency: I’m gonna see if anybody’s left.” The radios hissed back to life as he switched to the proper channels. The Sergeant called out into the nothing as he did so, trying to get any answer: “Come in! Any troops on the line? This is Sgt. Brysen Header calling from base at Omaha, over!”
____To Thomas’ amazement, an answer came back somewhat quickly, a woefully gruff voice fighting its way out of the static: “We hear you, Sergeant! What’s your sign?”
____“It’s Petrol, over!”
____“Eagle!” Came the countersign, “We read you! This is Lt. Oakerley of Venom Squadron. We’ve been expecting you! Can you hear me?”
____“(He’s alive!)” Brooke breathed out in a sigh of relief.
____Header sat up, “I read you back, Lieutenant! We’re at your base, where the hell are ya?”
____“Divided, Sergeant.” Static overtook the words for a second or two before returning to normal, “There was an attack a little past 0500 hours. An Apostle Army copter shot gas at us. We had to split: one foraging party gone already during the time of the hit and another I sent after our wheels. I knew you’d be comin’ so I figured to keep ‘em safe from the enemy. The rest of the men are with me.”
____“An’ where are you at?” Header inquired.
____“My boys an’ I are easternways from your position. There was a car alarm goin’ off: we’re near there.”
____“Ah, sh*t. That was us, sorry. Should we rendezvous with ya?”
____“Negative, Sergeant.” Oakerley replied, “Listen, you’ve got civvies still, yeah? Head north, find my other men. They’ll hand the wheels over to you, you take ‘em and keep heading east to VACC, okay?”
____“What about you?” Brooke couldn’t help but ask, “You’re not coming with us?”
____“We’ll come back and move the FOB in the other direction.” The Lieutenant explained, gravelly voice mixing with the static as it came and went, “I imagine there’s more Apostle Army personnel in the area. We’ll do what we can to drum them out and draw them to us instead of you. Whatever you lot did, you really roused them. They’ve been swarmin’ like nothing I’ve ever seen. Handful of insurgents, my ass.”
____Header sighed, “So we’ll get some wheels. Anythin’ else you can do to help us?”
____“I’m afraid that’s gonna be it without a solid LZ. Listen Sarge, there is a settlement along the way you can go to. Sort of a gated community, I guess. Safe from the zombies. They all bunkered up when the outbreak started and haven’t moved since. You can stop there halfway. Should be food and fuel there.”
____“Really?”
____“Yessir. Just tell the lady there, Julie Anne, that I sent you. They refuse to relocate to a proper bunker like I told ‘em but other than that they’re friendly enough.”
____Header scribbled down more notes, “Julie Anne… got it.”
____Lt. Oakerley’s voice fizzled through the radio, “Yeah, should be safe from undead. They’ve all gotta be somewhere so you’ll need to be careful out on the road.”
____“Do you have any clue where the ones in the city all went?” Brooke asked him.
____“That’s what we were here to find out. Best tracks we could find have a general heading of northeast, so you all be careful. It’s close to where you’ll be heading.” The voice wavered again through the fickle signal, “Head to the auto garage northways and look for Sgt. Londel, my subordinate. Her squad’s been ordered to hold that position down. She’ll get you your transportation. Again that’s north, garage, Londel.”
____“Aye sir. Stay alive out there. Over and out.” Header cut the signal and sighed, “All right. We’ve got our heading. Y’all get ready to leave. I’d like to have a chat with our prisoner first though.”

ii​

____Thorn had tied up the Apostle soldier on the other side of the FOB, interrogating him with a gruffness that seemed highly unusual compared to his typical relaxed demeanor. Like morbid onlookers crowding around a car crash, the rest of the group headed over to see what was up.
____Enemy soldier. It was a strange concept to Thomas after so many days of nothing but zombies. This was a different kind of newcomer to be sure. Would he actually know anything? He’d have to surely, wearing that Apostle dragon on his shoulder and breast. This was no raider like Pete Riker had been.
____“Where’s the proper company for the base at, eh? You kill ‘em?” Thorn was asking as they walked up, “How’d you know where to find them?”
____“Anythin’ yet?” Header asked the Corporal as he approached.
____“Nothing much, sir.” Thorn answered, “Not the most talkative type.”
____Header nodded back to the wrecked FOB behind them, “You got any more friends out and about in the city? Gimmie somethin’. Talkin’s easier than sufferin’, I can promise you that.”
____Silence.
____“Sergeant’s talking to you, bastard!” Thorn hit the man, “Talk while it’s still easy to!”
____The unnamed soldier flinched and slumped but still didn’t reply.
____“You kill any of our boys here?” Header asked again, “Hm? Kid, take his helmet off so I can look this p*ssy in the eye.”
____The Corporal obeyed. The helm and guard were removed and discarded. Underneath was a simple young man, likely only a year or so younger than Thomas, straight orange hair swept partially over an unexceptional pale face. He had dead eyes.
____“There we go. Not so stalwart now.” Header said, “You gonna talk now?”
____“I surrendered. Just let me live.” The soldier said.
____Young and normal looking, no detectable foreign accent, no trained, drilled resolve or maniacal flare in the eyes... Header sighed. This damn kid was a civvie, more likely than not. He was dressed up as a soldier—gear, gun, kit and all—but he sure as hell wasn’t a real one. Someone had given him all this and now he was a hostile. What an absolute sh*tshow. “You wanna live, kid?” he asked, “Tell us if you got any more friends in the area.”
____“Answer when the Sergeant is talking to you!” Thorn snapped.
____The trooper shook his head, “I don’t know.”
____Header snorted, “You don’t know?”
____“I—”
____“What do you know, eh?” The Sergeant cut to the chase, “How much you know about that symbol yer wearin’? Who got you here? What’s yer objective? Speak!”
____“I don’t know.” The man replied, “I was recruited by a man named Nick, who’s dead over there. He knew all the plans and connections. I just did what he asked. I didn’t want to be killed when his men found us. It was join or die for Apostle; I was just surviving. I don’t know anything else.”
____“You a civvie?” Header went to confirm.
____“I was, if you’re trying to say civilian.”
____“Well civvie, you went an’ shot at the people here. Men an’ women who signed up—knowing the dangers—to rescue people like you. Bravin’ the undead and the virus to get to you an’ get you out of danger. And you shot at ‘em.”
____The man said nothing but his falling gaze was enough. The Sergeant snorted and shrugged, turning and walking off.
____“You’re through with him?” Thorn asked, “Already?”
____“He don’t know sh*t. All the intel died with his recruiter, and maybe the pilots—they couldn’t have been nobodies picked up along the way. Best still take ‘im with us, just in case. Maybe Sgt. Londel will want ‘im.”
____Irene watched him walk away, scowling back down at the defeated trooper, “Well, I’m not through with him.” She kicked him in his defenseless gut and continued stamping at him as he recoiled. “Cowardly son of a b*tch!” she spat, “You ‘just wanted to live’... What about my friends? Why didn’t Apostle let them live, huh?! This is for Madalyn, who your bastard friend King slaughtered like an animal! And this is for my Carlos! They made me kill him! Where’s their right to survive?! They’d have sooner died than join the enemy, you coward! You rat!”
____He received just one kick too many, spurring Brooke to step in and put herself between the two. She held her arms out, “Stop it! Leave him alone!”
____“Are you kidding me? Let me have what little justice can be wrought out here.”
____Brooke shook her head, “You’re hurting him for things he didn’t even do!”
____Irene scoffed, “No, I’m hurting him for whatever he did do that I’m just not aware of. Why don’t you tell us how many people you’ve killed to save your own sorry skin, coward?”
____Silence.
____“Well?! How many have you killed, bastard?”
____The man still said nothing, so Brooke continued the defense for him: “You don’t know what he has and hasn’t done. He let me go when he could’ve taken lives going down fighting. Give him a chance.”
____“Jesus, everything’s all sunshine and rainbows with you, isn’t it?” Irene pointed to her wounded arm, “One of his pals gave me this. I’d like to see how you’d fare if you ever got shot. I’d like to see how you’d fare if your lover got eaten alive because of people like him. I don’t care about you trying to feel like a better person by defending a seemingly-helpless murderer. I care about payback.”
____“We don’t know for sure if he’s a murderer.” Brooke said, Irene’s confrontational yelling making her next (probably better unsaid) words slip out, “Unlike you. I know you’re a murderer.”
____Almost instantly Irene’s palm lashed out, slapping Brooke right across the face. Thomas took one step forward, but Irene already had her hands up in a shrug, backing off and not escalating anything further. Brooke recovered and frowned but held her ground and didn’t bite back, using it instead as an opportunity to show her determination.
____Irene didn’t seem impressed with her display of resilience. “You got me. I’m a murderer. In an apocalypse. Sue me.” she said, “Are you gonna turn the other cheek for me, sweetie?”
____“You’re mean.” Brooke muttered simply.
____“And you’re a fatass so we all have our flaws.” As she left Irene gestured to the battered soldier behind her, “When he inevitably escapes because of you, I’m gonna use that chance to kill him at the first opportunity. I’m not going down because you wanna play good Samaritan. I’m watching him like a hawk.”
____Thomas watched her storm off, her thirst for retribution still unquenched. He glanced back to Brooke, seeing the effort she put into keeping tears from her eyes. She certainly couldn’t let a stinging cheek make her tear up when arguing with a woman who was walking around dry-eyed with a fresh gunshot wound. He smirked softly at her resolve and put a hand on her shoulder, “Deep breaths, now.”
____“She’s mean.” Brooke repeated. An eloquent summary of a complex individual.
____“Hardened, likely.” He surmised, “I don’t think there’s much room for forgiveness in her heart after everything that’s happened to her. I can’t imagine it’s uncommon out here. Don’t forget she just lost her boyfriend. We’ve been lucky, after all. Mostly.”
____“I refuse to let circumstances break who I am.” Brooke said, “No matter how bad it gets. I believe in love winning, and for that to work it has to extend even to our human enemies. I believe in forgiveness, I have to.”
____She stooped to help the prisoner up, Cpl. Thorn stepping forward to do the task for her, “I’ve got him, Brooke. Don’t worry.”
____Thomas watched her and the Corporal lead the enemy soldier off after Header. I’d certainly like to believe in your resolve, he thought, but we can’t ever know if we’ll hold until the hammer strikes the iron. It’s easy for every optimist to look at an Irene and say I’ll never be like that! but those of us on the other side already know that that’s the exact same thing we told ourselves. It’ll hit you eventually Brooke, but I promise that breaking won’t make you a worse person.

____The group prepared to depart. Sgt. Header only waited to count out any supplies they’d captured during the battle. Between the abandoned FOB and the corpses of the enemy, it was a lot of bullets, and he was glad to restock his rifle and even his AA12. Only a bit of rations though, and they were starting to run out. (any enemy-carried foodstuff might be unsafe). He had expected it not to be an issue when they rendezvoused with Oakerley, but now they were forced to make do on their own again. They’d packed plenty from VACC knowing it’d be a long trip, but had parted with some on the boat to feed those two dead men, lost a bit more in the scramble to run from King, and now the prisoner provided another mouth to feed.
____The Sergeant grimaced at the thought. They could be screwing themselves over in advance, acting the way they did: generously. 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…
____Thomas and the others approached while he thought it over, leering at the captured equipment, “What’s going on? Are we leaving?”
____“Soon, I’m jus’ taking stock.” Header faced the Corporal assisting him, “What all we got from the enemy, kid?”
____“Pretty loaded for insurgents.” Thorn answered, demonstrating with the prisoner’s kit, “Military-grade carbine here: hybrid sight, ergonomic grip, and folding stock. Eight extra magazines, standard-issue lightweight bulletproof vest, combat knife, ration pack…” He picked up and set down each piece as he went, pilfering a little black box of supplies next, “Suture kit, legally-distinct adhesive bandages… Q-tips? They get Q-tips, Sarge.”
____“Yeh, it’s not fair, kid.”
____Irene glared over at the prisoner sitting there just behind the Corporal doing and saying nothing. She pressed him for answers, “Who’s paying for all this stuff?”
____No reply.
____Header grunted and shrugged, “Someone’s gotta be. Waging war idn’t cheap. Just a single one of those copters has gotta be a million dollars.”
____“Uh, try a lot more than that, chief.” Thorn said.
____“Whatever. Point is, it’s usually too expensive for anyone but countries to afford.” Header continued, “So unless this King guy can magically spawn helicopters, I’m guessin’ there’s at least one big player footin’ the bills.”
____Thomas frowned. No country he could think of would willingly help pay for a worldwide zombie apocalypse that would inevitably affect themselves, and a colossally expensive one at that. But plenty would probably pay to arm insurgents in enemy countries. Everyone could all do it to each other, really. Would someone really focus on injuring a foreign power during such times when they should be scrambling to help as many of their own as possible? Absolutely.
____Irene wasn’t done complaining: “No one pays as much as America for military spending. I don’t see why we have to deal with these guys when there should be thousands of U.S. soldiers running around here to do it for us. Where’s our helicopters? We must have five-hundred to their one, minimum.”
____“I’m not sure.” Header mused, “The last time Nazar came to bail us out he had some copters. Now he’s implyin’ that we’re on our own. I wonder if he’s lost them all somehow. It’s like his hands’re tied all of a sudden. The General kept us waiting too, at VACC.”
____“I imagine most personnel are keeping those safety zones in order.” Thorn theorized, “A lot of equipment abroad as well. As for the rest… as for the rest… they’ll be assigned somewhere. But wherever those somewheres are, they’re certainly not here. Oakerley’s squad clearly seems light infantry-only, and outnumbered here no less.”
____“That doesn’t make sense.” Irene said.
____“Superior numbers at point of contact.” Thomas explained to her, “If a smaller force presses its weight in very specific areas, it can still overwhelm said areas even against a massive opponent, which is often forced to be spread out. It’s common in guerilla warfare.”
____“Shut up.”
____“At any rate…” Thorn continued, “We’d better find this rendezvous and make ourselves scarce. These guys here seem pretty loaded and there may be more closing in as we speak. We’ll take what we can but should stay light all the same, just in case.” He closed the supply box and rapped his knuckles against the emblem stamped upon it, adding: “At least they understand the importance of good branding.”
____“Prepare to move out.” Header counted them all, “We forgetting anything?”
____“Yes!” Into their midst walked Gene. He surveyed all the dead and damage, expressing distaste only by adjusting his dress-shirt collar, “Well, it seems like the battle’s over then. Nobody came and got me! Admit it, you all forgot.”
____Thomas scratched at the back of his neck, “Eh, maybe a little…”
____Gene shook his head, “I could’ve been eaten by a zombie back there, and all of you would be none the wiser! Sometimes it feels like I don’t exist. Like if I were to just fall off the face of the Earth no one would notice or even care!”
____“We care, Gene…!” Brooke insisted, walking to his side to further encourage him.
____He shushed her with a hand gesture, “Hold on, give me just a bit more.”
____“Oh, okay.” Brooke said, her tone now flat. She held aloft her violin and began playing a sad, somber tune.
____Gene continued: “Well, I may at times seem like baggage, I know. It’s just Gene, I’m sure you all think, He’s no great loss. Just leave him there and not even fetch him long after the gunfire’s ceased! Might as well ditch him; everyone else always did!”
____Brooke leaned her head delicately against the violin: eyes closed, bow hand waving back and forth to further the accompanying music as he spoke.
____“My uses are just unseen right now. I’m telling you one day I’ll prove vital to this whole endeavor! Historians will look back and say ‘Ah, Gene…! That was the missing piece right at the center!’ Maybe when this whole nightmare is over I’ll even be the one to pen it all down to remember it by, and if so this’ll be an especially dark, critical moment in it all. Yes, that’ll be it. …Uh, well, so thank you for lending me your time.” The music stopped. The others softly applauded.
____Header nodded, “Right. We’re all real sorry. Now, if’n you want to not be forgotten next time, you’d best take this.” He held up the captured gun, “Assault rifle with eight magazines. This’ll make you an invaluable addition to our team. You ‘n’ Thorn can be exclusives in the carbine club.”
____Gene reluctantly accepted the weapon and all its ammunition, “Oh, wow. Uh, heavy…! Okay…” He looked intimidated at the size of the bullets, “…Do I have to?”
____“Ugh.” Header took the magazines back, “You jus’ volunteered. Kid, put six of these on the prisoner—he’s got the vest fer it—might as well function as a bullet-mule ‘till Gene gits more upper-arm strength.”
____“Aye sir.” Thorn looked displeased with the idea but obeyed, slotting the clips back onto the Apostle soldier who didn’t complain or fight back. Maybe he knew Irene was just hoping for him to try something, even something as small as losing some ammo, so she could kill him.
____“Right!” Header paced amongst them all before turning and leading the way north, “Find garage. Find Sgt. Londel. Git outta here. We’re leavin’ Omaha—let’s move!”
____Thomas frowned at the thought. They were in and out of the city already. They were supposed to get some of the company waiting to try and find Jaxson and Stacey but it seemed like that wasn’t going to happen. He glanced to Thorn who looked similarly bitter. He wanted to go find Stacey himself, Thomas wagered. But they’d promised to stay in a pack and not splinter any more than they already had. They all had to get to VACC first and foremost. Then there was James, searching—allegedly—for the two on his own. They were supposed to meet in Omaha if he found them. He’d have to improvise something should the planets all align and actually find success in his venture.
____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?
____He picked himself up and followed after the Sergeant, keeping an eye on Brooke to make sure she was okay, an eye on the prisoner, an eye on all the buildings around them still hiding possible threats… Too many things to mind.
____Grand conspiracy, or just bad bad luck… He mused, Whatever the case, just get us out of here…

We're definitely in the dialog-heavy territory now. As always let me know what you think

~TAF

 

[TGRF]

Chapter 6:

Spoiler Alert!

“I’ve a few questions that need answered, Stacey.”

Either 'need to be answered' or 'need answers/answering'.

If she had only ran when he told her to.

Should be 'run' with the helping verb. Also, this line was a bit jarring. Technically we're still in Stacey's head, but the free indirect speech thing has trained me to get out of everyone's head, and with Jaxson/Silvin talking, the 'She' comes out of left field.

with you in one and him still alive in the other.”

I didn't know this meant Thorn. You mentioned both Elias and King after Thorn, so I assumed the pronoun referred to one of them... which admittedly didn't make any sense and was confusing.

“It’s Stacey Thorn will try hardest to save, you said so yourself! Take me!”

There's some problems with this reasoning. First off, Thorn has no way of knowing whether Stacey or Jaxson are being held by Silvin. He might find out when he arrives, but by then it's a moot point, because he's already there. Granted, there are advantages to actually having Stacey versus just pretending to, but it could work either way.

The stranger thing here is that Jaxson is right: Thorn will - presumably - be more motivated to come for Stacey than Jaxson. This is what Silvin wants, so why is Jaxson trying so hard to get Silvin what he wants? I get that he feels useless and just wants out, but his words don't match up with that motivation.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that Jaxson just committed character suicide with that line. Maybe he was just truly that selfish all along, not caring what happens to Stacey as long as he gets an early exit? He certainly didn't seem like it.

He gave Stacey a weary look as he was led, wordlessly offering her solace.

What solace? He just threw her under the bus. Granted, Silvin was probably going to kill him anyway, but Jaxson's just being selfish with how eager he is to call it quits.

And still after it all he gladly jumped on the grenade, almost smugly in his consistent selflessness. It was on her now, and she almost hated him for it.

No. Just no. He's not jumping on any grenade here. He's not saving Stacey. He's ensuring that Thorn will come because she's still alive. He's also ensuring she's alive for whatever tortures I'm sure Silvin has planned. He's not selfless at all, and Stacey has every right to hate him for doing this to her. She was even cursing him out for his eagerness at volunteering, but now she seems to have gone 180 for no apparent reason, considering his actions selfless. I'm sure there will be some heartfelt moment later in the story where everyone commiserates over Jaxson's death and calls him a hero, and I'm not looking forward to it.

“Eh, I doubt that. I’m like a four-out-of-ten at most, maybe.”

While I like this line for the way it's delivered, it's odd to learn that Silvin considers himself evil. The bad guy rarely thinks he's the bad guy.

“We should kill her too, to be safe.”

You literally just agreed to the opposite a few lines ago. This guy changes his mind faster than Stacey confronted with Jaxson choosing the easy way out.

Silvin cackled, biting the very tip of his thumb to contain his excitement,

Silvin's really pulling out all the stereotypes here...

He left her at that, Stacey sitting alone in that room. Completely alone.

Way to go, Jaxson.

He watched as the city of Omaha drew near: big gray buildings towering over them as they got close.

A scarier sight there never was in a zombie apocalypse... these guys are so dead.

While Omaha was no Chicago, Thomas had no reservations that it would be a death trap chock full of zombies.

Dang, he actually agrees with me.

“But it ought to be a short enough walk to N-13 St from here. An’ I ain’t leavin’ nothin’ to chance with these zombies.”

Then... why are you ditching the car? You'd rather face the zombies on foot? I guess Header is dead serious - he doesn't want to leave anything to chance - he wants to be absolutely sure that the zombies get them.

“Let’s hope that doesn’t backfire.” Thomas told him, not greatly enthused at the notion of summoning danger close by and forfeiting their car at the same time.

This isn't a horrible idea, but being so close by kind of ruins it. You have to assume zombies will come from every direction. Header is basically betting that they'll be able to magically find a zombie-free path away from the car, in a city with up to a quarter million zombies.

She didn’t exactly have the most faith in the Sergeant’s competence.

Someone's on the right page anyway.

“Probably is a small consolation after the last few times.”

I would put 'Probably' in single quotes here. You need to set it off somehow, because I thought it was part of Thomas' sentence.

A ragged little undead cat slumped to the ground.

This is a big deal. A virus that can infect radically different organisms instantly means hunting and fishing are out. Can't remember if the group did that previously...

without concern for what might out there.

What might be

~TGRF.

 

[TheAverageFan]

Boy you were just waiting for me to post the new chapter before jumping to the one before it

I'll only comment on this one thing:

Spoiler Alert!

The stranger thing here is that Jaxson is right: Thorn will - presumably - be more motivated to come for Stacey than Jaxson. This is what Silvin wants, so why is Jaxson trying so hard to get Silvin what he wants?

...Because, Silvin said he was going to kill one of them, and Jaxson didn't... want Stacey to be killed? He didn't want her to die?

You can argue whether it'd be better for her to be killed or remain stuck with Silvin—or indeed if Jaxson's "selflessness" is actually a disguised form of selfishness, because there is an argument to be made there—but regardless I don't think "yeah kill her, let me live" is something you'd ever realistically hear come out of Jaxson's mouth. Agreeing to let her die is just something he wouldn't ever do, not when there's an option where she lives.

~TAF

 

[TGRF]

Spoiler Alert!

The stranger thing here is that Jaxson is right: Thorn will - presumably - be more motivated to come for Stacey than Jaxson. This is what Silvin wants, so why is Jaxson trying so hard to get Silvin what he wants?

...Because, Silvin said he was going to kill one of them, and Jaxson didn't... want Stacey to be killed? He didn't want her to die?

You can argue whether it'd be better for her to be killed or remain stuck with Silvin—or indeed if Jaxson's "selflessness" is actually a disguised form of selfishness, because there is an argument to be made there—but regardless I don't think "yeah kill her, let me live" is something you'd ever realistically hear come out of Jaxson's mouth. Agreeing to let her die is just something he wouldn't ever do, not when there's an option where she lives.
~TAF

It's more the eagerness with which he volunteered which got to me. He could have easily gone out saying that this way, there's a chance Stacey makes it out of this alive. That would have felt completely different. The way it's written, he's way too eager and doesn't seem to care what happens to Stacey.

~TGRF.

 

[TGRF]

I am still here, hoping to get to chapter 7 either today or tomorrow. Been distracted lately with Valheim, and will be gone over the weekend as well. Keep 'em coming and I'll keep reading.

~TGRF.

 

[TheAverageFan]

Chapter 8

Delayed again! Sorry, sorry! I'm here now with the next chapter, and I'll try to pump out more chapters at a faster rate (so that we're not still around in 2024 posting every now and again).

Here is Chapter 8, it is a shorter chapter

Spoiler Alert!

8
Vulnerabilities

i​

____The sharp rattling of locks startled Stacey awake. Someone was coming in. After Silvin was done speaking to her and murdering her friend, she had been hauled off down the hall and locked in a cramped, dingy restroom. She’d sat on the stiff floor for hours, one arm stuck in a lifted position—wrist handcuffed to the towel bar—and left to cramp in what was effectively solitary confinement.
____Bad as it was she at least enjoyed the privacy, soured only with the knowledge that it would inevitably end. The only bulb above was broken and she just sat in the dark, waiting for whatever horrible thing would eventually happen to her. Now light spilled in on her as the door opened, then all went to black again as a massive figure entered, all but blocking the doorway. There Mardew stood.
____He wasn’t wearing his helmet now: an ugly face marred with sunken lines greeting her. He looked angry, though Stacey could tell that was simply his neutral expression. Silently fuming was the best his mood got. She gave him a good scowl back as she stood.
____He approached, “Silvin is treating you to dinner.”
____Stacey shoved her hunger to the back of her mind. She maintained her frown as he unhooked the cuff from the bar, “And if I don’t want to partake in his clichés?”
____“There’s no choice in the—” Mardew had to stop as she ducked past him and just ran out the open door the second she was freed. The giant man sprinted after her, surprisingly fast, catching her and throwing her against the metal wall: sparing nothing to account for her size or gender.
____“Oh!” Stacey yelped, quickly pinned. The man was comically larger than her, ignoring every kick she gave him as he grappled her. The free cuff was moved to her other wrist, and with that he yanked the chain and dragged her like an unruly pet down the hall and back into the office.
____A table covered with fresh food had been set up there, almost a shocking sight in itself. Stacey hadn’t seen an actual meal since VACC: the government-backed lab all funded and ready to go since the outbreak. Where had all this come from? Part of her wondered if it was somehow all fake: an elaborate trick would almost be easier to believe.
____Mardew threw her hard into one of the empty chairs. Stacey reeled into the seat, sitting up right into his backhand as she righted herself, “You expect me to—Oh!!”
____It was force enough to simply knock her out of the chair and onto the floor. Her captor circled around and hoisted her back up, dropping her into the seat again. One big hand rested atop her head, palm pressed and forcing her to look up as he spoke:
____“Quit yapping. Consider yourself lucky that Silvin is so fond of wasting time and resources playing supervillain.” He growled, “I’d have you handcuffed to a cot naked in the barracks where the men could get their fill of you, if you were to serve any purpose at all here. Then in the morning I’d take you out and shoot you like a dog. We did all the time in Ituri back when I was PMC. And no, you wouldn’t get dinner first.”
____Stacey said nothing, refusing to give him the pathetic gratitude he was trying to wring out of her. As expected this made him angry, and he moved to strike her again.
____“Are you listening?” He scolded, “I’ve got so many undisciplined monkeys to work with, you know. They’re starved for pretty little things this many months in!”
____“That’ll do, sir.” Silvin came to her rescue, standing there at the open door with his arms pressed against the jambs. He grinned and strolled in, “Methinks she’s too dead inside to be scared by your talk. She has you and me for company, and her friend was just killed. Right now she just wants to die, so save your breath. Why not retire for the evening?”
____“Hm. Yes sir.” Mardew relented his grip on Stacey and stood up straight. He seemed more obedient to his superior today, if nothing else, “I’ll be gone tomorrow, sir. Elias is sending transport to pick up myself and a contingent from here. The bunker in Topeka got busted and they want us to help sweep up any stragglers.”
____“Leaving now that the cure’s confirmed gone? I figured. How many are you taking?”
____“A little over a dozen.”
____Silvin snorted, “Ha! Leaving me barebones as usual, that blonde bastard. Well, enjoy your trip and don’t forget to file all your complaints once you’re back with Babyface.”
____“Sir.” The giant turned and left, shutting the door behind him. It was quiet.
____Silvin held his arms tightly behind his back and gave the closed door a gleeful little smile. He then moved to sit down across from her, “Chin up, Stacey. You must appreciate your luck when you can. I’m certain those were only half-empty threats. Why risk one of those imbeciles getting attached? Mardew’d likely just kill you. And of course had it been Vigil who’d found you instead of yours truly he’d already be between the legs of your corpse hours ago. It must really sour you, after your earlier experiences… knowing that I’m not the worst of them. Truthfully I’m still getting used to it myself.”
____No answer.
____He leaned back and gestured to the meal before her, “Aren’t you hungry? Look at my efforts to please a guest.”
____She glared up at him, meeting his eyes. “I’m not eating,” she said, “I’d sooner starve myself and get it over with than consort with you even for an act. Because you are the worst of them. You think I’ve up and forgotten everything you did?! You think I’ve forgotten the scars your touch left on me!? You think food is going to fix that?!”
____“Ah, that’s right; you’re the androphobic one. Well relax.” Silvin said in a rather sudden serious tone, “I’ve no reason to squeeze you again. We’re alone—no friends or enemies in sight—I don’t have to put on my show here.”
____“You killed Jaxson. Monster! Murderer—”
____“Oh quit it. Your friend is alive.”
____Stacey stopped, “...What?”
____“I had to placate that gorilla’s stupid code and cut your pal loose without riling the men.” Silvin explained, “So I took a chunk of your friend with my pistol just to paint myself. I meant to spare him from the start, or didn’t you see that I wasn’t wearing my usual deagle? My .50 Cal would’ve blown him away for sure. But regardless he’s alive, provided he outpaced the zombies. How else do you expect me to get word to Thorn? The hat I gave him should be proof enough.”
____Stacey didn’t say anything. Now she was stuck: wondering if he was being truthful or if she was just throwing herself into some easy deception of his.
____“So…” Silvin continued, “Provided fate smiles—which it always does on our beloved Corporal—your friends will come for you. And mean old Mardew won’t even be here to torment you anymore after tonight. And I pinkie-promise to treat you well enough (within reason) until the cavalry arrives. Then there’ll be a big battle and lots of explosions, and Thorn will personally carry you out of here in his big strong arms. Sounds good? Then there’s no reason to purposely starve yourself, eh?”
____“...” Stacey frowned, half at herself, then caved to his reasoning: reaching out and piling food onto the plate before her. White-carpet-colored turkey meat still steaming, and little chunks of potatoes with wrinkled skin, and clusters of little peas… how she hated peas as a child back when she could be spoiled. And bread, the god of granted: nothing strove to break her more back there than the fresh bread there in the very corner of the table. She went ahead and helped herself to a little bit of everything, using the utensils laid out for her. She’d been given a fork and a knife both, making her wonder just how impetuous her captor was. Could Silvin be so dumb as to allow her access to a genuine knife? Surely not. He’d anticipate using it as a stabbing weapon, so she shelved the thought for the time being and focused on eating for now. Someone as cocky as him would give her a window eventually, she was sure of it.
____It was difficult to serve herself with her wrists still cuffed together, but Stacey didn’t care how much was spilled or missed the plate in translation. Screw it. Screw everything. If that vile bastard across from her wanted to be kind while they both waited for Thorn to come and blow him away then so be it. Because she knew Thorn would blow him away, and that maybe for the first time in his rotten life Silvin might get more than he bargained for. See him smile then, she thought bitterly.
____Silvin himself had very little, mostly just watching her eat with a strange look of sinister contentment. He was studying her, she could tell. And she could also tell that he knew something. Where else would that kind of smile come from?
____She studied him right back. She had seen it before when he had come in, and yet not really hit her until now that he was wearing a dress. A simple black form-fitting little tube that she had seen countless women wear before the outbreak. It didn’t much work on him: not exactly having the form it was supposed to be fitting. He made it look ugly.
____“Were you planning on asking me to wear that to dinner?” She asked of him, “Are you trying to mock me somehow?”
____“Heavens, no.” Silvin replied coolly, “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. You should’ve seen the look on Adib’s face the first time. But then you saw plenty of the contempt in my new lieutenant’s eyes, didn’t you? I don’t think he approves either.”
____“You’re that petty, Silvin?”
____“Only partially.” He tugged at the fabric, “It was originally for comfort, once upon a time. Picture a naïve little boy wearing what he wanted because of how it made him feel. ‘Impossible!’ everyone else would say. Well, they must be mad, thought I. Only a woman can wear a dress? Not only was it possible, it was actually an extremely easy task. You need only put it on. My first victory over society.”
____Stacey scoffed, “You’re not the first person to be like that, you know. I knew someone like that in high school, having a hard enough time from people thinking there was something wrong with them, an idea that you’ve doubtlessly helped to perpetuate.”
____“People giving your friend a harder time because of incidental association with my habits? Good. That hardly reflects badly on me. Besides, I’ve made life worse for everybody, in one way or another.” The fork in his hand twisted and turned, prodding and tormenting the lonely scrap of meat upon his plate, “I perpetuate no ideas myself. I’m sure your ‘confused’ pal—who is almost certainly dead by the way—would hold no grudges against me for just looking my best self. Anyone can clearly see that I look fabulous.”
____“You make it look dreadful.”
____Silvin only cackled, “Certainly better than you would look in it Stacey, what with the exposed back and all.”
____He knew. Stacey’s heart skipped a beat. All the scars she hid. That was what he had known. It had killed her even having to show her burns to Brooke; having Silvin know was hellfire all over again. He could drop it into anyone’s lap whenever he wanted.
____“You stripped me.” She said plainly.
____“Come now, even if Apostles don’t need to bother checking for bites we still had to make sure you two weren’t hiding any weapons or God forbid that precious vial Professor Joetex gave you. Even a needle could be sheathed in the skin and just like that you’d be out of here, no?” The fork finally thrust down into the turkey scrap, Silvin lifting it up, “Do you wanna talk about it or do I have to guess?”
____“That’s no one’s business but my own.”
____“And your father’s.”
____Her heart tripped a second time, “How’d…?”
____Silvin smiled, “Hasn’t Thorn told you I’m the luckiest man on Earth? Let me guess again: he was a strict man? A ‘disciplined’ man…?”
____“No, wrong, he was a heartless bastard! A man with a speck of discipline would have the self-control to be faithful to his wife and not mutilate his baby girl just because she was being loud, which is what infants do!!” Stacey paused long enough to calm and click at his words, “...But then you’re talking about yourself now, Silvin.”
____“Heheheh…” He chortled quietly, shrugging, “You got me.”
____“I take it your father didn’t approve of your cross-dressing?”
____He cackled again at the suggestion, “My father… would not let my mother—or anyone for that matter—drive while he was in the car. Because he refused to ‘Ride B*tch’ in the passenger seat, not ever, under any circumstances. Now, knowing this, how do you think he felt about his only son wearing women’s clothes?”
____“I could make an educated guess…” Stacey sighed, “Does that make this all revenge, then?”
____The notion seemed to offend him. “Revenge?” Silvin pondered, “To write it all off as his influence? To have the whole world place all the blame of my life and actions upon my father? And let him rob me of all my agency?” All joy left his face, “…Never!”
____Stacey said nothing.
____Silvin calmed himself, “Vengeance is for short-sighted fools, and my father is much too dead to get revenge on. There’s nothing to be gained on that road. Besides…” His fork lunged next for fruit, impaling a green grape, “It’s my sweet mother I hated. My father was sexist and pigheaded and as easily upset as a toddler: a truly proud, insignificant man who never budged on anything. Any woman of merit, were I asked my thoughts on the matter, would never bother with such a blunt useless creature. But alas for my mother: choosing to relent to him, bending the knee because he never would. And of course my sister and I got to be a part of that through their ill-advised union. Thanks to her, truly. Because behind every monstrous patriarch is a pathetic, loathsome little enabler. Justifying that mindset because at least one person comes crawling back after every slight to continue inflating their ego. Yes, they tend to be quite inconsequential without one, don’t they?” In the grape went. Silvin chewed and swallowed, then nodded at his guest, “But you already know all about that, I’m sure?”
____“My mother was a good woman trying her best in a harsh world.” Stacey said, “She made mistakes, but she loved me more than anything. She loved me more than she loved herself, more than her need for that toxic relationship. And she destroyed it the second it hurt me.”
____“Lucky, lucky you…” His eyes were piercing, glaring.
____“Luckier than you, it seems. Despite what you claim.”
____“Heh.” Her counter made him smile, “Well if nothing else we both managed to survive long enough for our pendulum to swing against our fathers. I believe it’s the duty of every child to make plain the folly of their creators, not perpetuate them as most do.”
____“...I…” Stacey muttered, thinking on the words.
____“You…” Silvin answered, “Ah… there’s the difference between us. The vile terrorist and the normal one. You perpetuated.”
____“I didn’t mean to.” Stacey murmured. She stared at the empty plate now, and the barely-visible reflection its shiny stained surface bounced back to her. Her other scars—the bite scars—burned on her skin, “It was the one thing about my mother that never made sense to me: why him? It seemed so obvious from an outsider’s perspective. But when it’s happening to you, you see things that others don’t.”
____“Not to me!” Silvin sharply clarified.
____“Well then when it’s happening to you, others see things that you can’t!” She cried, spilling her guts to him, “...A friend of a friend. I was in high school, he was in college. He had a car, that was what mattered. It was a stupid fling. I was a teenager, willing to give anything a whirl at least once. He was funny and charismatic, and sensitive when I was needing to be. He always had time for me, because he’d drop work on a dime. He was always between jobs. That just made him cooler to me.
____“There were signs. My mother didn’t like him, but I didn’t listen and kept him out of her life. Even his friends would get awkward around me, like they knew what was coming but couldn’t bring themselves to say anything. I never once questioned what a college student was doing hanging around my high school so much. I moved in with him first chance I got. My own best friend told me not to. I was naïve and defensive. Words were said and we didn’t talk again. And then I was locked in with him. I gave myself to him the first night we were there. He asked me to say I belonged to him, and I did. It was only the next morning that I learned that he had a dog at his place.”
____Silvin’s smile etched ever harder upon his face at her story, loving the chance to explore her psyche. Knowing her body, knowing its ending.
____“He had me there. He got what he wanted. He stopped letting out the line.” Stacey said simply, eyes locked with Silvin now. Knowingly telling this intimate story to this killer, knowing who he was and still not hating him as much as this boy, “He got worse so fast. Or I saw this part of him that’d been hidden. He stopped asking. He got so irritable and I didn’t do anything! I got scared. I thought of my mom. I thought about getting pregnant, of having to bring a life into the world only to hide it. I didn’t want that. I wanted out. But his grip was on me. He had to know where I was when I was out. He had to know who I was talking to, and he had to approve of it. I was stuck in that apartment so often. I didn’t even have keys.” She could feel herself gripping the seat of the chair now, cuffed hands between her legs, “Sometimes I didn’t leave all day. I was just stuck in there with that dog. It wasn’t cute. It was a big mean dog, and it didn’t like anyone who wasn’t him. I was scared of it, I would hide from it. He didn’t comfort me when he came home. I wanted out, I wanted out!”
____There was a sudden ringing in her ears now. It was nighttime out those windows, black and yet blindingly bright under the moonlight. The winged moon was full, and hovering directly over the office they were in, she could tell. She could hear barking behind her as she spoke, specks of spittle against her neck. But she didn’t dare turn around or even stop talking, like the words were being torn out of her like it or not. She continued in terror, refusing to break eye contact with Silvin across from her: sitting there viciously smiling at her story, drinking in the pain of her mistakes.
____“I begged to leave. Then I shouted to leave. I couldn’t just ask Mom or anyone else. I wouldn’t let myself be proven like that, letting myself be shamed. Everyone says there’s no shame in reaching out, but there is! There is because people don’t do it, they don’t ever do it unless they’re ashamed! I couldn’t show myself like that, not after all my mother went through! I just wanted out! I just wanna go home! He wouldn’t let me! I tried to force my way through. He hit me. I cut him. He called out. The dog attacked me.”
____Tears fell from her cheeks to her knees. The noises had all subsided.
____“He at least didn’t kill me. I woke up in the hospital. As soon as he left I asked for a nurse and called my mother. She took me home. I never went back to collect my things from that apartment. I was too afraid to. I just stayed with her, mutilated twice over… her little failure, her little prodigal daughter. Until the outbreak killed her. It’ll kill me before I can ever have any children to perpetuate my mistakes, so you don’t have to worry.”
____Silvin’s expression had softened. “It’s okay.” he said, strangely tenderly, “It’s all over now. All that’s gone.”
____“Thank you.” She whispered.
____“Ah…! ‘Thank you’. ‘Thank you’…!” Silvin seemed to find this most amusing, “You… dumb… b*tch. You had everything you needed to know better but you still went through with it, didn’t you? No doubt there were ten times as many warning signs in the real events compared to your abridged little story, but that never stopped anyone, did it?”
____“Wha…?” Oddly she had expected more compassion from him. But what a stupid thing to think, and he obviously knew it.
____“Most people go off experience alone, and you even had that.” Silvin continued, “But no, even that’s not enough. Normal people are just too quick to forget. Even now you’re already latching to me, just because we talked, just because we had awful parents. You’ve already forgotten that I tortured your friend’s baby to death, butchered countless others and personally contributed to this Armageddon. But you’ll always hate this man more, because of what little you know. And yet, and yet, you’re still looking to replace him with another one, even now. Even my shoulder you’re already subconsciously trying to lean on. Maybe you instinctually prefer abusers, hating them and yourself both. Never above them, always bending before you break!”
____“I…!”
____“Whenever that bastard hurt my mother, he would always make sure to soothe her afterwards. It wasn’t for no reason. It made her forget everything, and she would again eat gladly out of his hands because of the infinite kindness he’d shown her. I’m sure you know this technique all too well. All I had to do was show you Mardew and then take him away: because he is scary and said nasty things to you just as I told him to, when I will sometimes say and do nice things. Despite the fact that I’ve far more bodies to my name. He is the beating, I am the bath.” Silvin sneered, “Oh, how I could’ve milked this across the days until you insisted that I could be saved and studied and fixed. What a perfect poison for Thorn that would’ve been, though I’ll spare him of it. Experience has taught you nothing, because you’re a dumb b*tch. You’ll have to thank King if you see him again, for bringing this apocalypse and robbing you of the chance to destroy yourself again.”
____“Mocking bastard!” Stacey had fumed at his words, had let him talk. Now she grabbed the knife off the table: such a weapon in her hands feeling like her security blanket at this point, and thrust at his yapping throat.
____He reacted with military precision, catching her wrist and jerking it. His other hand was in her palm and the knife went clattering across the floor. She was disarmed. In a single motion Silvin moved and took her with him, yanking Stacey across the table and down against the floor just like that. Plates fells shattering to the floor. One of his sandals dug into her spine, Stacey crying out at the severe pain the pressure put onto her scarred deformed back. Her handcuffed arms pawed haplessly at the ground, unable to reach back to that heel dug in her the way his fork had done to that scrap of meat all dinner long.
____Silvin stooped down low to her, “Of course, if you see King again he’ll just kill you without a second thought. Unlike myself he doesn’t care for drawn-out fun. He’ll drop you dead. And then down you’ll go into the charnel pits your stupid decisions have been digging all your sorry life, forever and ever… You don’t want that to happen, do you?”
____“No, no!” She quietly wailed. He relented his pressure, stepping off.
____“What a giant time-bomb you are.” He noted, stroking his chin, “How Thorn would grieve over the could’ve-beens of your corpse. But I’m beginning to think the cruelest thing I could do would be to hand you over as-is and just watch; wait for you to find a way to destroy it all from the inside. Let’s both pray he hasn’t been killed already by Apostle’s other machinations!”
____“Please just let me go!” She begged, clutching her head, “I just wanna go home!”
____“There ain’t no home anymore, sweetheart! And be grateful for that: it’s the best thing that could’ve happened to people like us.” Silvin snatched a whistle off the office desk and blew it, waiting a few moments for another soldier to hurry to the door. He gestured simply and the trooper obeyed the silent order, picking Stacey up to haul her back to the restroom. Silvin continued before she was gone: “You’ll be under my protection in the coming days. Appreciate them before they’re gone. Once I’ve finally dealt with Thorn, I’ll have to decide what should become of you then. Do remember that!”

ii

DAY 3​

____Brooke exhaled as she leaned against the jeep. They had found Sgt. Londel and her men, finding them few in number but in good order. The garage they were hiding in housed four working vehicles and they were willing to part with two to aid the group. From there Header had collected instructions to make it across local roads to VACC, stopping at the settlement they’d been told about halfway for what were increasingly much-needed supplies. Hunger had been lying low this whole ordeal and now suddenly was poised to leap upon them all: in about a day or so if things kept as they were. Londel had almost nothing to give them.
____They had driven for some time but now stopped for a break on the road, having gone for about thirty minutes without a distant zombie sighting (that being the best metric to judge when they could pause for a bit). Everyone remained on edge, not sure what to expect going forward. They had all been promised a military escort or an airlift, but again they were on their own. Again. Brooke was starting to become bitter to the promises of anyone outside their own little group. It felt like they alone could deliver for each other.
____Thomas was helping the two military men recheck their rations, keeping a far stricter count of it all right now. Everyone else was stretching their legs or keeping an eye out, or slinking off somewhere to relieve themselves. Brooke herself just stayed leaning on the jeep, breathing. It was getting colder again by the day, and it was making her very sleepy. But it was early still, and she couldn’t stop for a moment until they were back home at VACC, which sounded sweeter with each passing hour. Part of her was ready to get back in there where there were no zombies, no enemies, no wind, no cold, no hunger, no responsibilities… to curl up in a bed and doze off forever. Man, she needed a smoke right now.
____Irene’s voice snapped Brooke out of it, shouting heard from not far off. She was kicking at the prisoner, “Hey! Don’t you listen? I said do you need to p*ss or anything?!” Now the shouting was directed at Brooke, “Hey Sunshine, come over here!”
____The prisoner. No matter their pleading, Sgt. Londel would not take him off their hands, saying that he would be dead within the hour if they left him with her. If any intel was to be got out of him, he should be taken somewhere where he could be shipped to the higher-ups. It seemed like a bad idea, taking him with them, but Brooke wouldn’t have him be executed and so the group begrudgingly kept him like a pet. Irene wasn’t too happy about this and—deciding that it was somehow Brooke’s fault—had elected to refer to her only by nicknames moving forward. It was the best punishment she could conjure for her new scapegoat, James now being gone and all.
____Sighing, Brooke headed over. The Apostle soldier was simply sitting on the ground staring off into space while Irene stood impatiently by him, tapping her foot. Brooke approached, “What is it?”
____Irene pointed, “Talk to this killer for me, Rainbows. I’m trying to be nice and he won’t respond to a thing I say. I guess even a Yes-No question is too tall an order.”
____Brooke sighed and stooped, “Do you need to go, sir?”
____He gave her, just… just a strange look, “No.”
____That was all he could muster, breaking eye-contact at that: seemingly unable to look at her any further. Brooke stood, “He says No.”
____“Yeah, I caught that.” Irene said, “You got him to speak. Feeling talkative again, soldier? You ready to tell us yet how many people you’ve killed?”
____Still no answer.
____“Whatever. Just sit there, then.” Irene mused for a second, “I’d thought for sure he’d use the time to take a leak as a chance to give us the slip, but I guess not. He’ll live a day longer. Maybe he likes being our luggage. Oh well. That’s all, Sunshine. Shoo.”
____Brooke contemplated all the things she could say: that she didn’t like Irene and thought she was rude, that she could tell on Irene to Header, or that Irene’s old friends or Carlos wouldn’t like seeing her acting this way. But Irene wouldn’t be bothered by the first, would laugh at the second, and would be bothered too much by the third and get wrathful, so Brooke just said nothing and slunk away. What she had was a rare feeling to experience these days, but common before the outbreak and not one that she had missed.
____What she did miss was better female companionship. Brooke desperately hoped that Stacey was all right, wherever she was. She thought they could have been good friends—under normal circumstances—should any of this ever come to an end. But right now that seemed like wishful thinking. Brooke missed her sorely.
____They still weren’t leaving yet. Brooke went to one of the vehicles and clambered up to sit on top of it, letting the cool wind blow through her hair as she looked across the landscape about her. Flat and chilly: even the greenery looking rigid in the still cold. She sighed. Her time spent waiting recently would normally go to thinking over her music, or trying to reach VACC on the radio to speak with someone there for a bit. Being in contact with their destination on the regular made returning there feel more certain, so she tried to do it at least once a day. But she didn’t feel up to it right now, for reasons she wasn’t sure of.
____Thomas came over, having apparently finished his conversation with the two soldiers. She was glad to still have him after the shootout in the city, never knowing when any skirmish would end with him suddenly gone forever. If Thomas died before she could truly bring comfort to him… she would survive, but it would be a cold winter indeed. Brooke tried to brush off such thoughts. God wouldn’t snatch Thomas away when he was out of his faith. That wouldn’t be fair. He wouldn’t do that.
____“You okay up there?” Thomas asked her as he came close, “It’s getting a little chillier every day now.” He smiled and added: “We maybe should’ve looted some warmer clothes instead of instruments.”
____“We’re only a ways out.” She told him, “The music is more important to me. They’ll have heat at VACC, I sure hope.”
____He glanced inside the jeep where the violin remained boxed, before looking back up to her, “But you’re not playing? I thought you might keep working on our song.”
____“Not right now. Irene would probably yell at me. It’d draw a lot of unwanted attention, she’d say.”
____“I guess.” Thomas said, “Don’t let her bother you. Her boyfriend just died, so give her some leeway. Or a lot of leeway. As much as you were willing to give a stranger like me.”
____He kissed one of her knees—the closest thing to him while she was up on the car—and backed off to check back with Thorn and Header. Brooke smiled softly. She’d have liked more, but she knew he was paying attention to everything around him. Irene was effectively widowed, so the two of them doing anything lovey-dovey in an open or prolonged way would probably only make her feel extra-awful. And the others weren’t feeling much better, she’d be willing to bet. It would be best to remain professional until they got to solid safety. She really couldn’t act too tone-deaf right now. There would be a time for hand-holding and soft-spoken words at VACC, or maybe even at this place Oakerley had directed them to. It couldn’t be too far now.

As always let me know what you think

~TAF

 

[TheAverageFan]

Chapter 9

As promised I am not late, so on with the next chapter:

Spoiler Alert!

9
False Trusts

i​

____It had been a long drive to the facility they’d been summoned to, and Nazar had little patience for such things. He was up and out of the car the second Mr. Gondowl opened the door for him, striding past the armed guards and into the large federal building. Lavender followed him closely. They passed through half a dozen checks coming in, her boss looking more irritated with each one until they were through at last. They strode forward freely from there: through the thin carpet and flat lighting of the government complex.
____“It’s ridiculous that I should have to be here in person. What a waste of time.” Nazar said aloud, arriving at a pair of double doors down the vacant main hall, “Come with me.”
____“Yes sir.” Lavender answered plainly, as she always did for him.
____“Meeting in person even now, for no reason other than simply because that is the way things are done.” He told her, “That should set the stage for everything you need to know about these people and my work here with them.”
____“Yes sir.”
____He opened the doors, and in they went. A dark meeting room was inside: about a dozen worn-out old Caucasian men waiting for them in various seats around a large unpopulated semicircular table. More were watching from remote sessions, projected on screens along the back of the room. Nazar eyed them all over, gesturing for Lavender to stand by the closed doors. He strode on ahead, taking center stage.
____The first of the only two men standing approached him: Commander Grimm giving a quick salute before walking him over to the chair assigned to him, “Nazar. Glad you could make it.”
____“Commander.” Nazar replied formally. The second of the two came over to accompany the escort. This one was tall and serious-faced, a clear look of distaste unmistakable to be sure. He was one of the Director’s men. Nazar gave him a smirk, “And I can never quite recall your name, sir. But you’re always here when Arnie isn’t, aren’t you?”
____“It’s Blake.” Came the stern reply, “The Director is here, just not in person. It’s too dangerous to have too many of us in one place.”
____“Indeed.” Nazar took his seat, “To think we could’ve all been remote.”
____“We have a lot of important matters to discuss.” Came an even harder voice in reply.
____There he was, on the biggest screen, sitting down into view: Director Merne. He was graying and just on the verge of girthy, a big squarish man in a suit. He’d been voted chief director of domestic defense when the outbreak occurred, and was one of the few men Nazar had to answer to. Or as he would probably like to view it, Nazar wouldn’t be there all among these big-wigs without him. He had been, after all, just another nobody not so long ago, without a shred of authority or clout in federal circles. His brother’s plans had quickly changed that, and so Dir. Merne had brought him in and kept him in personally. He had final say on that matter.
____And without Nazar, Lavender wouldn’t be here either. She watched the Director warily as he glanced down to papers out of sight, continuing: “And I wanted to make sure you would take all this seriously. I find most people gain an unacceptable amount of nonchalance whenever they’re not speaking face-to-face.”
____“I am here.” Nazar said, “Speak to me.”
____“The cabinet has reached a decision.” Merne explained, speaking for the host of other aged faces there who didn’t have the nerve to do so on their own, “We’ve elected to reverse the original plan and halt all the to-the-coast movements for the time being. It’s just too dangerous for all the civilians involved and it’s tying up too many of our resources.”
____Nazar gave them all a really? look, rising from his seat, “You were all perfectly on board with my plan when I first announced it. We are already in the midst of executing it. We’ve already spent untold amounts of resources and several lives on it. Why reverse the decision now?”
____One of the others now spoke up, “Valid concerns were not raised on our previous meeting. Some members of the council spoke out afterwards and we’ve since reconsidered our position.”
____The too-late after-the-fact hesitation of committee decision-making was plain, and Nazar frowned at it, “You understand of course that any civilian blocs staying still while in transit are sitting ducks to undead and Apostle personnel alike?”
____“We’re already in the process of returning to the prearranged safety zones.”
____“Those zones are compromised; we all already know this. You lot saw to that.” Nazar said.
____The older voice stumbled a bit at his sharp words, “—And, and establishing new ones. You didn’t let me finish.”
____Dir. Merne gave Nazar a very stern look, “Let’s not devolve into bickering at the first drop of a hat. Some of the zones have been compromised: most by contamination, not treason. I have absolute confidence in my team and my peers here, Nazar.”
____“I don’t. Your government is a big unwieldy beast full of corrupt or just plain stupid bureaucrats who I have to deal with.” Nazar paced as he lectured, as if he had just been waiting for the chance to do so, “Need I remind you of Governor Welder, who elected to stop the spread of the virus in his areas by broadcasting instructions to conduct mass suicide on a federal channel? Or Senator Howsley who, being a good old fashioned religious man, thought that the perpendicular placement of the wings was obviously symbolizing a cross and so handed Apostle sensitive data including confidential safety zone locations?”
____“That’s—” One of the old men began to interject, but Nazar continued over him:
____“And I’m told just this week our mutual friend Charles Bureen has chosen to do the same: up and vanished with more of our intel. He’d been here alongside you all lecturing me every meeting until now. Bureen’s no religious nut of course, I’m sure he just sees the way things are going and decided not to go down with the ship. How am I supposed to keep anything secret from Apostle with all of you on my side? Stopping and second-guessing at every one of my decisions, when you aren’t secretly measuring how much and how far you can barter with Apostle to save yourselves. I can’t properly defeat my brother like this.”
____“Bureen was my friend. I loved him like a brother.” The Director’s face hardened, “And I knew him. Until we are certain, I will consider your claims of him unsubstantiated. After all even a slight misfortune can get one killed and eaten these days. I would never suspect him of such random betrayal. You wouldn’t understand. I have faith in him even now, wherever he is. That thing which I know you lack in all matters.”
____“Faith is denial disguised as dedication, if I may be frank Director. And love is weakness. Love is a sword my brother holds over the world, knowing people’s love of each other, of money, of themselves. He knows it makes us unwilling to do what’s necessary, or even what’s obvious. Doting, hesitant, clingy, loving humans. It’s going to kill us. 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…” Nazar paused and exhaled, “…but then if that were the case my brother wouldn’t be trying to kill us all in the first place, now would he?”
____“We are human, like it or not.” Dir. Merne said calmly, “And you’re not in command of anything. I am the Director, and while that remains the case this will continue to be a team effort. I’ve given you power and control over some of our defensive decision making, because of your foreknowledge of King’s plans. But you’re not dictator yet, Nazar. I took a lot of heat onboarding the son of the Thousand-Yard Killer, you know. I have final say.”
____At last Nazar said nothing. Lavender glanced his way, curious of the dropped name and its power to silence her boss.
____The Director sighed and continued, clacking the papers on his deck somewhere off-screen, “I will personally try to reestablish contact with Bureen myself and see if we can get some answers or that intel back. Until I know his motives for certain, the only one in my cabinet with confirmed Apostle connections is you. We will continue the slowdown of civilian mass migrations to the coasts for the time being, unless the council decides otherwise. Perhaps sharing any details of your plan might persuade some of us.”
____“...In order for my plan to work only I can know the reasoning behind it.” Nazar clarified bluntly.
____“Then please forgive us for not just going along with abandoning our entire country.” Merne’s gaze drifted to Grimm, “Commander, expect more men and equipment once everyone is back in their zones. I’ll get back to you with more concrete details on that. 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.”
____The Director frowned again, “Is that all the detail you can give me?”
____“Yes.”
____“Fine, fine. Any other comments before we’re through?”
____One man present spoke up: Sommet, the CIA representative, “Yes. We’d very much like to be part of VACC’s intel on Apostle.”
____Nazar scoffed, “That is strictly confidential.”
____“The time for secrecy has passed.” Sommet said sharply, “We need more than your bread crumbs to operate at our full capacity. We’ve already put in for a joint operation with VACC. And we have no desire to see you of all people holding all those cards any longer.”
____“And I have no desire to work with the ones who funded Alex Silvin, a known Apostle operative.” He made sure to speak those last words louder, “I can’t help but imagine how much of that money went straight to my brother.”
____“There is no evidence to suggest that Silvin has any Apostle or CIA ties.” Sommet too spoke loudly, making sure everyone could hear the disclaimer before continuing, “Accusations do us nothing. And as your privileges of complete command are already being revoked, we are not asking. You were in charge of all Apostle information prior to the outbreak. Where is the intel stored?”
____Nazar was quiet for a second or two, “…I don’t have it.”
____“Where is it?” Sommet demanded.
____Nazar shrugged, “I lost it.”
____The drive he deleted at VACC… Certainly not lost. Lavender mused in silence.
____Sommet shot up standing in protest, “We would like it to be noted in the transcript that the CIA remains unconvinced of Nazar’s loyalties!”
____Merne nodded, just looking tired now, “Splendid. Otherwise, dismissed.”

____Nazar elected to accompany Comm. Grimm out of the conference, walking alongside him and speaking softly, “You must be very grateful to Director Merne for freeing up so many troops.”
____“My hands were tied and tied again.” Grimm replied, “I am thankful to be slightly less short-staffed. But I think General Tandom will be happier than me.”
____Lavender followed them both closely as they strode down the hall.
____“It’s just a shame that it had to happen now.” Nazar continued, “That we went along with my plan right away and only now decided to revert back. It’s too bad that the men were tied up over a cancelled operation, and any who died did so for nothing. But that’s war; sometimes people perish achieving no gain.”
____“That’s the brass.” The Commander corrected, “Everyone’s got a bright idea. It’s all a lot of bickering. But that’s not the business of us troops. We follow the orders, we bleed, we take the hill. Someone has to.”
____“You talk like a soldier, not a commander. I imagine your men like it that way, but it makes you stick out around here.” Nazar knocked his shoulder with his knuckles before turning and going off his own way, “Too bad, you’d make a fine Cincinnatus.”
____“Don’t think I don’t see what you’re trying to say.” Grimm told him, “I’d be careful of words like that, because I am a commander. But we still follow the orders.”
____As they parted ways the two exited the building and headed to the car where Gondowl was still waiting for them, having not moved at all the entire time. Before they could leave in peace Nazar was next confronted by that fellow he’d first met when coming in: Merne’s man, thrusting himself in the way and standing there boldly. Lavender knew that Nazar knew his name already but he still seemed to enjoy playing dumb with him, simply because he didn’t like him, “You again. …Bernie, isn’t it?”
____“It’s Blake.” Came the overserious reply, “I wanted to speak to you on the Director’s behalf. I don’t think he chewed you out half enough.”
____Nazar gave the man a very uncharacteristic pat on the shoulder, “I’ll take it from the boss, thanks. You I’m under no obligation to put up with.”
____Blake darted in front of him as he moved to leave, blocking him, “In Dir. Merne’s absence I speak for him. And I’ll also speak my mind. The Director keeps you around for your knowledge on Apostle, when you can be bothered to give it. Where the rest of that time and money goes I’d very much like to know.”
____“Well if Apostle can feed so freely off of the teat of our finances then I figured why shouldn’t I?” Nazar answered.
____“The fact that some of them think you’re really trying to help us.” Blake growled, “Now that’s a sad joke.”
____“Perhaps, but not the way you think. See, I’m not trying to help you, I’m trying to save you. More than any other human you love or trust.” Nazar said, “…Tell me, sir. Have you ever heard of the tragic final voyage of the S.S. Arctic?”
____The sudden topic caught him off guard, “The what?”
____“It’s a sad story of the doomed voyage of an oceanic steamer. 1854 was the year. You see, the Arctic suffered damage and was going to sink. Her captain tried desperately to prioritize the lives of the women and children aboard as the vessel slowly went down, however almost immediately the men mutinied and tried to save themselves. It became very chaotic very quickly.” Nazar shrugged and shook his head, “Despite Captain Luce’s best efforts, in the end very few managed to escape, and not a single woman or child made it off that ship alive. As such any nobility in the perishing was in vain. The crew’s discipline just wasn’t a match for human nature. I tell you this story because of how much I empathize with this captain.”
____“Let me guess, with the rest of us peons being the hapless passengers? And would that make your Apostle family your motley crew?”
____He scoffed, “Of course not, you dolt. Apostle is the sea—in perfect mindless unison no different than the simple physics of water entering a broken vessel. All you other humans are the crewmen, going this way and that way panicking and thinking only of your own selves and devolving into your basest desires before death takes you all. I am concerned only with utilizing what few resources and men are good enough to still be used to navigate my way out of this mess with at least one passenger surviving. My only goal is that just one of them can survive, despite your best efforts.”
____Blake shook his head, “But there’s a problem with your analogy, Nazar. You’re not the captain. And what we’re doing isn’t mutiny. But you’d sure like it to be that way, wouldn’t you? I expect such absurd absolutism from the child of a serial killer who insisted to his dying breath that he was a saint and not a scumbag.”
____“Hmph.” Nazar turned to leave, “Well only one of us had the privilege of knowing him. He certainly taught me what to expect from humans like you.”
____Blake’s arm caught him and yanked him back into the conversation, “‘Humans like me’? Don’t give me that horses*t. I know your type: thinking you’re above the rest of us, thinking you’re the only one who knows anything about anything. Calling us ‘humans’ because you think only you gets to decide who’s got the right to be a Person and who doesn’t. I bet you think the rest of us haven’t met a hundred of you already: miserable little misanthropes judging everything and contributing nothing. Well it’s easy to judge, the rest of us have to actually act. Letting a pompous little weasel like you into our ranks was the damndest fool thing Arnie ever did, mark my words.”
____“Well now, Mr. Blake,” Nazar said, “I’m beginning to think you aren’t speaking on behalf of the Director now.”
____“Guess so.” Blake relented his grip, “I got my eye on you, and not just for his sake.”
____“Tell Arnie I much prefer speaking to him if he can ever bring himself to show up anywhere in person.” With that, Nazar escaped back into his car.
____Lavender shut his door and went around to enter the other side, giving Blake just the slightest glare as she went. Nazar crossed his arms and said nothing as she sat beside him. “He doesn’t like you, sir.” she told him. Mr. Gondowl took the driver’s seat and the long road back to VACC began.
____“He understands that I’m a threat. At this rate I’m going to have to be. Fools, the lot of them.” Nazar answered, “I’m trying to win this war, though I should be very pleased if not a single one of them comes out alive by the time it’s all over and done with. I give away as much of them as I can on the channels we know Apostle is listening in on.”
____“I’d mind those words, sir. They are treasonous.”
____“What difference does it make? I know I’m in safe company. Besides, there’s far too many of them for that to ever work, and Apostle can’t reach most of them. Not yet, anyway…” Nazar drummed one finger against his opposite hand, “There’s too much to juggle as it is here, too much for me to keep track of…”
____“Sir, may I ask you a question?”
____“You have and you may.”
____Lavender watched him: him just staring on ahead out at nothing. She looked down at the tablet held in her lap, “Who is the Thousand-Yard Killer? Blake said your father was a serial killer. I’d never heard of him.”
____He didn’t look to her or react at all, not even to the unusual request from her when she asked so little of him context-wise.
____“Well it wasn’t slander, what they said.” He admitted, “Yes, my father was a serial killer. He was a sniper killer, hence the name, and he ranged freely for some time because the police assumed that his victims were random unrelated murders. He cast a wide circle, in three states around the vicinity of our home on Sunholly Avenue: where he tutored us his sons, and where I later made King what he is now, after our father was gone.”
____Lavender could detect the visible souring of his gaze, saying that name. Sunholly Avenue. Nazar spoke little of it, as if it were a bad omen to do so. While he wasn’t hesitant to say what he and King had done there, he did always seem to inwardly cringe at the thought of some memories, and never went into the finer details of what exactly had transpired. Only ever the process, detailed clinically, and of course the results.
____Nazar continued to explain, “My father was a soldier, and the experiences that came with that colored him greatly. He saw what people were like when everything was stripped bare and down to the wire. He saw terrible things, and judged them as terrible things rather than choosing to embrace or grow numb to them. He was indeed a judge when he got back, and he sequestered us his children away from the world and lessoned us on its folly himself. We spent countless hours studying every little problem with the human race under his tutelage.
____“He meanwhile would often take his rifle and go out at night, driving vast distances just to find some good spot to hunker down and watch. For hours he’d study people through his sniper scope, just waiting for someone to do or try something while he was watching. Many times he’d come back having seen and accomplished nothing. But the second he did catch any wrongdoing he pulled the trigger, and his vigilante justice for that day was done. He’d hit spots for miles and miles around, patient as a saint and perfectly knowledgeable on how to best cover his tracks on the way back.
____“There was only one problem: he’d never kill enough of them to make a difference, and the longer he persisted at this role the more he began to realize that everyone was guilty somehow. He’d only given the courtesy of withholding judgment until he personally witnessed wrongdoing, but that was nothing but wasting time and permitting escape for the guilty. Squandering his efforts waiting to see the crime for himself. He knew better. They’d all done something at some point: lying, stealing, whoring, abusing humans. That’s when the nights of him returning without having killed stopped. That’s when it became butchery.”
____“An inspiration to your brother and a deterrent to you?” Lavender guessed at his story, but Nazar shook his head.
____“I loved my father.” He said, “It was King who saw his folly. He was just one man with a gun killing random people when he could. He murdered over fifty people in three states over the course of years before the police finally triangulated him down and caught him—he had become much too frequent once he’d started shooting without watching for fault first. But for all the bloodshed he was stopped and done in, and the humans again multiplied against his efforts, and now you’ve never heard of him. King understood he was only a human driven mad with despair trying to calm a hurricane with his hands. He lacked the necessary efficiency.”
____“But it is the same quest, sir.” Lavender said, “To judge.”
____“Yes. That it is. Our father had hidden us, and we remained on our own when he was gone… still studying humanity. We too judged, and deemed the verdict guilty, and tried to think of how to best extinguish them in an act of total eclipsing destruction.” Nazar glared upon the winding road ahead, “My, how we ruminated on that.”

ii​

____Today there was no fabulous dinner when Stacey was let out. It was getting dark out already by now, somewhat to her surprise—having been increasingly difficult to tell what time it was in the dim windowless confinement of that restroom she’d been kept in. No Mardew today, as promised, the door having just become unlocked at some point. She wandered out. If everything else said about his departure was true, then it meant that there’d only be a skeleton crew manning things around here. That if nothing else could be a blessing were she to somehow escape.
____She aimlessly walked into the office, finding it deserted. It was late and she was hungry but there wasn’t a morsel to be found anywhere in here. It’d all been completely cleaned up and cleared away: not a crumb in sight. Back to barebones after last night’s display. An intentional move on Silvin’s part no doubt, Stacey forcing herself to think like him:
____He’s demonstrated what he has. She grimly figured, Now if I want it again I’ll have to beg him for it. I’ll die before I give up any more of my dignity to someone like him, just so he can go on and on about what a basic b*tch I am for having the gall to heel when starving.
____Doing what scrounging she could, having been trained for it same as any other survivor, she searched about the office. It was difficult to move efficiently while handcuffed as she still was, forced to use both arms together for any task that demanded them. Still it was a rare opportunity to look around while alone, her only chance to steal off with something that could be eaten or used later to escape. The only consumables were bottles of alcohol on a tall shelf she almost couldn’t reach. They’d been there last night but hadn’t been used as a part of their little feast. Now that all of that was gone they were the only visible source of sustenance. While she was thirsty one whiff of it made her gag, having no love of liquor. Silvin needed her alive; he’d give her water if she waited long enough. This stuff was better used on the enemy: it made men reckless and pushy… but also clumsy. She put them back.
____The only other things of note were worthless papers on the desk and about the room: old and referring to the business of this place before the outbreak. Mill figures, nothing referring to what was going on now. Stacey glanced to the black square panes of the window behind the desk. How quickly the sun had set at this time of year. Yellow lights shone below, Stacey walking over and leaning on the glass as she peered down, curious. The entire wall and part of the canted floor below her was windowed, permitting a vast view of the grounds below.
____Zombies and zombies and zombies swarmed about down there on the ground far below, all types of undead present in a dense cluster. It was almost unbelievable; she’d never seen so many in one place, not even in the lab when they had been attacking from all sides. No wonder everywhere else had seemed so barren.
____She could only see three uninfected men down there, in their all-black armor pacing about. Somehow the undead ignored them, the troopers freely walking among them without fear. 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.
____What are they up to? Stacey pondered in silence, I’ve seen zombies mass into hordes all on their own no problem. There’s no point to doing it like this. And they wouldn’t do it without a reason.
____They even had Silvin here overseeing all this. It must be something. Stacey knew she was a hostage, but she was also a girl sitting on a potential mountain of intel, as Thorn would call it. If given the chance she could somehow turn this into a win for the living. But that’d only be worth a damn if she herself got out alive. How to even begin to do that…
____Light glinted off a metal edge in the dark. Stacey squinted and peered harder at what she’d seen. There was indeed something out there.
____A container. Now she knew what she’d seen. Herding zombies into containers as if they were shipping packages overseas. She had seen railway tracks around the side of the facility in the daytime when she’d first been brought in. Was that it? Moving the zombies en masse? It seemed like a lot of work to her. But once again, she knew these people were terrorists. They were highly driven to spread their evil, and they didn’t toil away purposelessly.
____She needed to get out of here.
____“Wondering what’s up down there?” Silvin’s voice snapped Stacey out of her thoughts. She whirled and faced him. He stood at the doorway—dressed as he usually was this time in red camo pants and a black tank top, girded with his holster and tactical vest—fearlessly approaching with a smiling face that said he had secrets to part with, “Our brilliant postal operation is in full swing.”
____“What do you want?” She cut to the chase.
____“To chat of course.” Silvin said, “I won’t be here tomorrow; I have to report in. So I’d like to have another talk today. You didn’t think I was only interested in torturing you? I could use some better company than these Apostle incel-army soldiers I’ve been given to lord over, who I can’t stand at all. To think I’d even grow to miss the company of Adib and his delusional sand-pounders. This current lot is just bent and bitter, in the most boring way imaginable. They lack all joy in their work. I’d much prefer your perspective.”
____“Away tomorrow…?” Stacey frowned. She tried to push what she could, “Give me some more to eat. Then you can run your mouth.”
____“I’ll run my mouth and in exchange you can keep all your fingers.” He countered bluntly, tapping the combat knife he had sheathed upon his vest, “Does that sound good?”
____She needed to get out of here. He held all the cards and he knew it, but that wasn’t cause to give up. Think, girl, think…!
____Her eyes fell to the bottles. She thought quickly, “I’m famished! You have to give me something! …How about some of that? I’m parched!”
____Silvin chuckled, “I’m afraid that’s mine.”
____“Well then you have some too. It’s just sitting there.” Stacey walked over to the shelf. Yes, she could reverse this. While she loathed to do so, she could use her bubbliness to reverse her begging into something more akin to teasing. She’d seen her mother do it, use it to wrest control from those who had it all. Never once suspecting that a naïve stupid persona could hide genuine motives. Stacey never liked doing it, but it was all she had.
____There was only one problem. Her mother used the vapid, giggling, airhead routine on horny Neanderthals. This was Silvin. While she loathed him, she knew perfectly well that he wouldn’t lower his guard easily, if at all. His own personality masked the constantly thinking, suspecting, computing mind.
____Case in point, his hand shot out and caught her arms as she reached out for the bottles. He was standing now, cocking his head to one side. “Easy now.” he told her, “I doubt you’re even old enough to drink.”
____“Maybe. I haven’t exactly been keeping much track of the days.” She scowled, “And besides, what gives you of all people the right to police anyone on anything?”
____“I’ll have you know I’m an immensely moral person.” He pushed her arms down, “I’ll spare you the hangover.”
____For some reason failure made her say the bluntest thing she could at that moment: “Well maybe you can still have some.”
____Silvin narrowed his eyes at her, but then shrugged, “...Oh sure, why not? I could certainly use a drink after being left so short-staffed.”
____He swiped a tall bottle of clear liquid (Stacey assumed it was vodka) and took a seat, swigging straight from the source. Whatever it was, it made him visibly flinch and exhale in a slightly pained tone.
____That was good enough for Stacey. She had thought best-case that she’d have to somehow keep up until he was drunk enough to in some manner overpower or outsmart. Now he was doing it himself while she could remain perfectly sober. But only if he continued drinking.
____She decided to push her luck further, seeing what more she could gather about the goings-on below, “What are you guys doing out there?”
____“The operation?” Silvin began, taking a second swig as he did so, “Heh, I suppose there’s no harm in telling you. It’ll make about as much sense to you as it does to me. What do you make of it?”
____“You’re gathering up all the zombies.” She guessed at what she could from what she’d seen, “And you’re moving them?”
____“Bingo. East and west.” Silvin said, “They certainly do us no good here out in the middle of nowhere, you understand. Not this long after the initial outbreak.”
____Stacey mused on his words, “You’re going to have a hard time killing everyone with hardly any zombies around here though.”
____He smirked and shrugged, “Who knows? But the higher-ups said to do it this way and so it must be done. Apparently from what I’ve heard Nazar is moving all the civvies to the coasts, to abandon the country for whatever reason. And so Apostle in turn is moving all the zombies after them before they can escape.”
____He knew who Nazar was? Stacey said nothing of it and let him continue.
____“There ought to be plenty of zombies in those dense areas already. More are being sent there every day now; the feds haven’t been stopping the trains so far. Should be quite the army on both sides. And with all those survivors all bunched up at once… well, if the zombies can break through whatever defenses they’ll have erected…” Silvin gave a scowl and a glance off to the side where there was nothing, “It’s all a big gamble, could be a lot of work for nothing, but that’s how these dumb monsters are. That’s why they’ll need all undead claws on deck when they do try to push through. Anyway, it’s a horrible waste of my talents, sitting on my hands here just overseeing it all. Don’t you think so?”
____“Your ‘talents’.” Stacey repeated, unamused, “By that you mean your terrorism?”
____He shrugged, scowl turning quickly to a smile, “What can I say, Stacey? It’s the one thing I’m good at. I did not escape my upbringing only to scamper off and hide in another one of society’s fat folds, waiting for some make-believe man in the next life to give me a medal for all the things I didn’t do. Nor did I stop for a spot of personal revenge and then call it a day, or sulk off and ruminate on imagined justices that’ll never come to be. No, I’m proper. I found a calling. I am the greatest—and frankly the only real—terrorist in the world.”
____“Your other friends don’t count?”
____“Meh.” Silvin drank again, shivering slightly at its kick, “Adib and the rest of those Fremen are just guerillas, no matter what anyone else says. And those closer to home, domestics as they call us, well they’re all just murder-suicides to me. Not like me at all. See, a proper, distinguished terrorist like myself is a philosopher: who lessons people in fear and loss. The rest of them are all statistics. I meanwhile have changed the way things work in this world.”
____Stacey frowned, “How benevolent of you to help us all better ourselves.”
____He took it as if genuine, “Why, thank you. It’s rare that anyone learns to be grateful to me, as most people never learn to change. But we’ll all be better off without those people, now won’t we?”
____“Of course I imagine you’ll be caught or killed before you manage to get all of them.”
____“Not me. I’m never going to die.”
____“Hmph!” Stacey scoffed at the ridiculousness of the claim, awkwardly crossing her cuffed arms, “We’ll see about that when Thorn gets here. I can think of no better way for you to go out than by inviting your own downfall right to you, just to keep playing Cops and Robbers between the two of you.”
____He cackled, drinking more, “Oh I doubt that. A perfect Lawful Good like Thorn never gets anything done right. I could build a villa out of all the dead people he’s failed to save from me. He’s driven but can never quite manage to hit his mark. But you know him so much less than I do. I suppose you think he’s really all that, from what little you’ve seen of him. Or perhaps you’re dumb enough to trust completely in him because he’s a man in uniform, as if being able to march makes someone less of a primate.”
____“He’s different.” She said, “He’s a good man. He doesn’t need to be anyone more than that. Maybe that’s why you hate him so much, because you want to see the bad in everyone. And there not being any in him infuriates you.”
____“Maybe, maybe. He is a perfect little toy soldier, isn’t he? Truly the disgusting standard we can all look up to and aspire to. But I doubt there’s anything underneath, because that’s all he is: the soldier. He’s nothing more than out to get me, nothing more. But maybe that’s why you like him so much: because he’s a big nothing behind all the weapons and camo and surface-level politeness. A perfect inoffensive body-pillow for you to cling to, bereft of all the humanity you owe your wounds to.”
____Stacey thought on his words, thinking of Thorn and who he was. How kind he had been to the group in general throughout their hardships: never abandoning them when things got dire, never giving them a hard time for being slow or clumsy or bad at walking all day long. He was basically like a gentle babysitter to a bunch of adults not fit at this whole survival business. He had essentially never clocked out of his role as a soldier. She wondered who he was without that role, or if there was anyone under it at all like Silvin claimed. She did like Thorn: the way he had helped her, the way he never stared or overstepped, how he had kept watch over her the night at the hotel without a second thought to his own rest. But could she really open up to him, the way Brooke and Thomas had seemed to have done? Could she really count on him, more than anyone else? He himself? Or was it just the soldier she had come to take comfort in? Was that what she had liked: that there was nothing?
____“…I don’t know.” She muttered, “Maybe. Maybe if any of us ever put all of this behind us…”
____“Well if you do manage to pry him open and actually see all the little gears and pistons inside, I doubt you’ll find much to your liking there.” Silvin posited, smirking as he sipped more vodka, “I’m highly certain no part of him other than the drive to remain a flawless perfect boring little hero truly functions. Sorry if that idea saddens you. But I assure you that even if Thorn’s c*ck does in fact work, it’s only for me. He cares about you because you’re a precious ‘civvie’ that he has to protect. And he only cares about civvies because of me, because of what I did.”
____“That’s not true.”
____“Oh come on. If he just passed you on the street he wouldn’t have given you a second thought, because he’s too busy being obsessed with me. He cares and protects only in relation to what I threaten. It’s all about me at the end of the day.” He smugly wagged one finger, “And that obsession isn’t about to go away even if I were gone.”
____She noted the faintest hints of clumsiness to his voice, knowing that he had taken a lot of that vodka quickly. Was he really trying to get drunk right there before her? She said nothing of it, only keeping it in her back pocket should he become inebriated enough to subdue or escape from.
____“You think it’s like that between us?” She asked.
____“I can see it in your eyes when you talk about him. And I know from our conversations last night that you’re always looking for someone to lean on… always.” He grinned again, “It seems that—as your last exotic charismatic love failed—you’ve settled for boring this time. How dreadfully conservative. Do you think it’ll make any difference?”
____“Heck, I’ll marry him if he kills you.”
____Silvin laughed loudly, louder than usual. Starting to slide. Stacey noted of this.
____“Now wouldn’t that be a perfect trifecta!?” He said, “He the boring hero and I the detestable villain, with you the prize behind me! Just imagine the flick that’d make.”
____“This isn’t a film, you know!”
____He shrugged, “Too bad, honestly. I love movies. 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. To go to those worlds in my youth, sat before the TV as my one true parent—escaping, believing that art was imitating life and not correcting it. The power of stories is real…”
____No wonder he was such an exaggerated character. Stacey glanced to the bottle in his hand, “You’ve stopped drinking.”
____“I know when to stop.”
____“That little?”
____He gave a knowing, wicked smile, “Well now you’ve offended my masculinity, dear.”
____He took another swig, shivering at its punch.
____Stacey smiled at the success, “Now if only you had the balls to be with me without needing me chained.”
____“Don’t push your luck.” He growled.
____Just a bit longer. She told herself.
____“So what is it you ultimately want, then?” She asked, “Once you’ve killed Thorn and me and everybody else, what then?”
____He again took a drink, “I’ll be alone, knowing I’ve won.”
____“To just continue being Apostle’s lap dog, you mean.”
____“We have a mutual relationship, this organization and I.” Silvin said, “They kill loads more people than I ever could, which I choose to tolerate, and I help them in my own ways. At least when they’re not wasting my talents with work like this.”
____“You really think you’ll escape them by the time it’s all said and done?”
____“Of course I will! We have a pact, King and I.” Silvin tapped the table with his fingers, “I was one of his, uh, first… assistants, let’s call it.”
____This word-machine had finally stumbled. Stacey waited to act.
____He continued: “Anyway, don’t think of things as just kill, kill, kill with Apostle. They wouldn’t have had me execute Dr. Ruxus if they just wanted people dead however they could. That dirty bomb of his would’ve offed millions with ease. No, King wants it done very specifically.”
____“You stopped a dirty bomb?”
____“I did!” Silvin struggled through a fit of laughter at the thought, “I did! Look at me and know that I saved some millions of lives. Me! Does that complicate things for you? It certainly gives me pause! The work I’ll have to do to end up back in the red!”
____Stacey said nothing, thinking complex thoughts at this information.
____“Perhaps it was an initiation test to see if I’d do such a thing for King’s sake.” Silvin continued, “Or maybe it was just a hit on Ruxus: as he quit Apostle before King’s damn ‘cure’ fixed us all to him. That he escaped that early and managed to nearly take so much from us before our plans could begin… truly a colossal blunder! Just remember that if you think King is as flawless as he claims to be! But then what could be a bigger gaffe than being a terrorist and saving that many people? Clearly we live in a satire!”
____He found this so funny, laughing and cackling, biting his knuckle and pounding the table with his other hand. The vodka bottle spilled as he dropped it to do so, rolling across the table limply. Stacey saw this, gripped only for a moment by hesitation: if this was her moment. The fact that his eyes were momentarily shut was enough to convince her.
____Saying nothing witty to preempt her attack, Stacey stood, grabbed the bottle, and swung it right for his head. The sound of her chair scraping, chain rattling, her sharp intake of breath as she went for it: all of these might have fallen silent upon intoxicated, unsuspecting ears. But Silvin had heard. He snapped upright, catching both the bottle and her bound wrists in his hands. All the tells of drunkenness about him were suddenly gone.
____He glared knowingly at her, “Of course, all those people died anyway. That helps me sleep at night.”
____Stacey stubbornly yanked back against his grip, “Let go, bastard!”
____He permitted this, releasing her wrists but snatching the bottle back, stabbing out at her with it and splashing her with the drink, “Did you think I’d fall for something so simple? I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t the best at avoiding such pitfalls! You’ll need to do much better than that, or give up entirely.”
____It reeked of alcohol but only tasted of water, Stacey nonetheless reeling back and spitting out the foul-scented liquid. She out of desperation just tried to run past him but he caught and threw her back in an instant. He was so fast!
____He kicked her as she whirled and she fell stumbling against the vast windows making up the far wall and tilted floor of the office. It held her sturdily, not close to breaking, and she lay smeared against it in silent agony as her tormentor paced about behind her, stopping to put his foot against her back that he knew was sensitive.
____He sneered at her cries of pain against his heel, “Were I a less gracious host and in a darker mood I’d give Cpl. Thorn something of you to remember me by. A finger or hand perhaps—as King did to your pal—or an eye, more to my styling. But since I am kind and your attempt failed harmlessly I’ll stick to your back, which Thorn’ll never have the nerve to see even if he does save you.”
____His foot dug and wrenched as he swerved and left her to resume his pacing.
____“Yah!!” Stacey yelped and curled, not getting up. She aimlessly stared as she lay there: the glass floor beneath her, and she could see everything toiling away down below. Zombies swam in a sea of themselves, like maggots piled on top of each other writhing about. They paid her and her suffering no heed, but now Stacey could see the Apostle troopers herding their rotting cattle, and that many were watching her rather than focusing on their ugly tasks. Whether they were viewing her torment in full or had only just now caught a glimpse of her she didn’t know, but either way being watched by so many from so far away made her deeply uncomfortable.
____Silvin had whirled away to pace about his office, but Stacey remained where she was: frozen in panic and a sudden indecision as she beheld all those down below her.
____They were all men of course: that could be safely assumed going just off the gender ratio of all she had met before. And she could tell by their general body shapes, even under all the concealing black gear. They were watching her.
____As Silvin ranted and monologued behind her, Stacey thought quickly. Of the tension between him and these new men he seemed to distrust. Indeed he had mentioned thinking fondly of his previous allies, Adib and the rest, and openly mocking Mardew and the other Apostle soldiers. They were distant allies at best. And Silvin himself remained too much for her desperate efforts to ever best. He was too fast, too clever for her to outwit as much as she had tried. His every mistake was only ever a feint to invite her to try something so he could harm her more. But normal men could be counted on to make mistakes, she told herself.
____And so she looked down at those soldiers below staring back up at her from behind those impenetrable masks and helmets, unreadable if not for the act of looking itself. And Silvin was turned.
____You always bend before you break. He had said, and it was true. Just like every other time, desperation would strip her of her dignity. Being aware of it didn’t make it hurt less, but her back hurt far more at the moment. And this was survival.
____Stacey did her best to hide her dread, looking down at the soldiers below as best she could to appear appealing to them: wide-eyed and needy, staring longingly for aid, a hapless and terrified—but of course still willing—girl held in torment by a cruel stranger they could all hold in contempt. Alex Silvin, who these troops knew and loved little, keeping a woman all to himself in the top of the tower while they worked endlessly below with no thanks. She put one hand, fingers apart, against the glass below her. And then, with her other cuffed hand close, she pulled her top open.
____Some she knew in school would do such a thing freely and carelessly, needing only to be asked by a college guy with moderate enough looks, but for her it hurt. More than once she had been catcalled by inebriated men feeling extroverted enough to sour an otherwise fun night out. It wasn’t just the alcohol talking: she was pretty enough to please, she knew that. The sober troops below would judge for themselves in silence.
____A cocked head or a shift in leaning she received at most. The soldiers’ faces and words (if any) were hidden from her. Time would call the investment. A woman’s vulnerability could be her greatest weakness but also her best weapon, Stacey had heard once. She was certainly the former, traumatized and hiding from touch whenever possible. She loathed to even play the part, but she knew she would have to do more should any of those men come up to “rescue” her while Silvin was away tomorrow. If he really was away tomorrow.
____Her breast was exposed only for a second, Stacey covering again and rolling over to face Silvin should he have seen any of it. But he was just wheeling back around to her again, stopping his pacing and glowering down at her.
____“What is it?” He asked, seeing if nothing else a change about her. Which of the many emotions she was now trying to stifle that he saw was impossible to guess, but he had detected it. But his tone was guessing: she hadn’t given it all away.
____“It’s nothing.” Stacey told him, “Now are you through? I shouldn’t have to be stuck here listening to you if you aren’t even going to feed me.”
____“It is certainly not nothing.” He said, “Whatever it is it’s made you more bold… Ah, who cares? Anything you might’ve stashed away won’t be as much help as you think. You’ll find that out real quick if you try to escape while I’m away tomorrow. Speaking of which, I will feed you something to account for that. So be grateful.”
____Her tone was anything but grateful: “Thank you for not starving your victims.”
____Silvin cackled, “Eheheh…! Well any idiot can be cruel in straightforward ways. But everyone out there is starving nowadays. I think it’d be funnier to have this be the only time you can have that one respite. It’ll sting better afterwards I think.”
____“Fine. Whatever you say.”
____Stacey was afterwards given a meal, albeit far less gracious than the previous feast. Still it was bitter: knowing it came from such a host as it did, and that it would have to last for both this day and the next. Even then she felt mildly guilty, knowing it was still certainly better than the nothing she knew Jaxson likely had to live with. He remained worse off than her, at least in some ways. If he was even alive.
____After that, she was sent back to the dark cramped space of the restroom and thoroughly locked in. Stuck waiting in the dark to see if her foolish gamble would pay off tomorrow or not. There was no way to know. She could only wait.

~TAF

 

[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]

Chapter 10

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!

____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!

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.

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"

It was difficult to serve herself her wrists still cuffed together

Missing a 'with'.

Fixed, thank you

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.

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

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.

I was entirely too proud of that one.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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]

Chapter 11

Spoiler Alert!

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]

Chapter 12

Spoiler Alert!

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.

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.

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...

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...

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]

Chapter 13

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]

Chapter 14

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]

Chapter 15

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.

 

[TheAverageFan]

Chapter 16

Spoiler Alert!

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...

Every instance where Thomas could sleep in a bed if he wished contains some reference to his phobia, but in a survival zombie story where most nights are spent on the ground or in the car opportunities to do so are kind of spread thin across the stories' length. It was referenced more in TMHW though naturally that was some time ago

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.

You're finding your character leanings, perhaps? But Stacey has a lot going for her, and has had the spotlight for quite a few of these chapters.

Chapter 16. It is a shorter chapter:

Spoiler Alert!

16
Retreat

i​

____Thomas aimed carefully and fired, seeing the Apostle soldier across the tracks collapse to the leg-shot. There was no time to fire further, as more zombies closed in quickly. He continued backing up, losing more and more ground, “Damn!”
____Header and Reed had stopped offering shots to help out his beleaguered position, and as a result the zombies came rushing in all the quicker. The main body was upon them now. He hadn’t seen Irene since she left, feeling hopelessly outnumbered here.
____He heard Brooke scream and shouted at her, “Back up!”
____One of the soldiers had nearly shot her, and she came running: ducking down in a new hiding spot amongst the containers. Thomas himself fled back to the jeep, seeing Gene there still firing limply into the closing zombies. The wings of the mass undead amoeba were coming down upon them.
____We have to find a way out. Thomas thought in panic, This is taking too long! We have to escape. But Irene…! And— He whirled and looked back to where Brooke hid, about to shout the order at her to come back and regroup so they could somehow retreat. But he was too late.
____Up above Silvin had grown bored with Thorn’s refusal to leave his cover. Even with poor Stacey shot and bleeding the Corporal still had at least some composure. Seeking to punish his nemesis further, Silvin had again aimed to those below, and although Brooke’s current hiding spot amongst the containers hid her from the soldiers and undead below she had unintentionally made herself again visible to him in his crow’s nest. “Fine, stay there cowering, Thorn!” his voice boomed over the loudspeakers, “I’ll take another!”
____BANG!!
____With expert precision he shot not Brooke but the container behind her: blowing the lock off its shut doors. Thomas heard the gunshot and the creaking metal hinges, seeing where Brooke hid—recognizing what was happening a millisecond too late. Out poured dozens of zombies, having smelled the living and eager to be freed upon them. Brooke turned, shocked at their sudden appearance. But they were already upon her as they spilled out.
____She had less than a second to react, simply paling and collapsing—fainting or playing dead none could say—as they came teeming about her. Instantly she was lost in the swarm, disappeared into their rotting flailing ranks.
____Thomas saw her vanish into the mass of dead, “BROOKE!!”
____He started to race over but was instantly halted by the coming onslaught of the zombies. Countless undead greeted him, the moving mass devouring the bullets he loosed in them as they advanced. Forced to backed up, he watched helpless to intervene, able now only to control his own survival.
____Gauge’s eyes widened as he watched this unfold. He turned to Gene and held his bound arms out, “Hurry! Cut me loose!”
____“Wha?” Gene asked.
____“Cut me loose and give me your gun, now!” Gauge barked, “Hurry, hurry!”
____“But you’re…”
____Thomas ran over to the two. He drew the knife he’d stolen from Riker’s truck and slashed Gauge’s bonds, freeing him and turning to Gene, “Give it over! Do it!” He didn’t care about the consequences right now. Gene, pallid in the pressure of the moment, sheepishly obeyed.
____Taking his weapon, Gauge immediately ran off and dove into the crowd of zombies. As they did for the other Apostles, the horde completely ignored him, allowing him to slowly wade through their ranks without worry. Only those who got too much in his way did he blow away with the carbine, gradually making his way to where Brooke had fallen. Thomas watched with baited breath, continuing to back off as the zombies closed in.
____“What’re we doing?” Gene asked him, watching unarmed as the countless dead advanced from all sides. Avenues for escape were dwindling fast. The mass had consumed their position.
____“Shut up and climb up to something.” Thomas said, gesturing, “The containers, get on the containers before we’re swamped from all angles!”
____They climbed up onto the jeep and from there onto the tops of the containers. Already there were too many zombies below them, and they were sitting ducks for any gunfire directed their way. The best Thomas could do was just to continue shooting down any undead climbing up the car to reach them. He’d run out of bullets before they ran out of bodies.
____Unable to help, Gene glanced about at the sea of dead now surrounding their position, “We’ve hit rock bottom.”
____Thomas shot and shot until at last he heard the spent clicking of an emptied magazine. Even as he swiftly reloaded the zombies surged up atop the jeep, climbing unpunished to reach the container. Thomas backed up, yanking on Gene’s shirt to follow, and the two turned and leapt onto the closest adjacent container.
____It wasn’t exactly a great plan, as the undead were quick to follow, and the two just continued jumping from one metal crate to the next. At last they reached the end of the row with nowhere else to quickly leap to, Thomas whirling and firing his reloaded weapon into the rushing crowd of undead. There were too many up here now for it to make a reasonable difference.
____“Well, we’re dead.” Gene said, “I don’t know what kind of meaning I was expecting of it.”
____Thomas could only laugh bitterly, knowing they wouldn’t be long after Brooke. He always kind of knew it would go like this: a sad existence striving only for a little love and meaning smothered out under the totality of the undead. He glanced to Gene, the only one left beside him of all people, “Purpose is only what you make of it, friend.”
____Again his pistol clicked empty. On the undead freely came.
____Bang!! A loud gunshot came from their left, buckshot shredding the clustered zombies on the container adjacent. A breath of opportunity came in their deaths, as Thomas whirled.
____Irene. She stood at the helm of the train, pumping her shotgun and shouting at the two: “Get out now!”
____Bang!! A second burst shredded the undead below them, offering only a momentary window. Thomas took it, grasping Gene’s hand and leaping down to the concrete. The bodies caught their hard landing, even as some of the downed zombies continued to moan and claw under their shoes, and they sprinted after the train. Irene had stolen it for herself, killing the two operators inside and starting the locomotive up to serve as her escape of choice. Thomas followed its slow start and with Gene bounded aboard before the window closed again. He could feel rotted hands tearing at his jacket as he fled.
____Irene shot any zombies attempting to board after the two, permitting them a moment to lay on the hard metal surface and gasp for breath. Even at a slow speed the train was difficult for the zombies to climb onto, unintelligent as they were, and so Irene defended them with relative ease. Gradually they escaped the shadow of the factory, picking up just a little more speed with every passing second.
____From this spot Thomas could see Gauge also escaping the horde from the far end of the factory. Sure enough the undead had paid him no mind, leaving him without a scratch. He’d quietly slipped out with Brooke in his arms, and to Thomas’ amazement she looked unharmed. Seeing the moving train, the Apostle prisoner bounded after it and boarded: awkwardly laying her upon one of the open cars before hoisting himself up after her.
____It was a marvel. There was no way the zombies had taken so long to kill her as to allow Gauge to intervene in time. And yet as far as Thomas could discern she was spotless. How was that possible? He struggled to sit up, nerves still strangled with worry for her. He didn’t believe in miracles. And yet…
____He had to know.

____For all his anger Thorn still could not summit the factory and reach his enemy. Continuous gunshots hammered away at his cover, with no end in sight. The longer he stayed here the more ample time the zombies had to fan out and carpet the grounds below. Header and Reed could no longer afford to offer supporting fire from their untenable position down there amidst the dead.
____He couldn’t retreat, he wouldn’t. Stacey had been shot for this. Brooke had suffered worse. Something had to come of it! Grimacing at a momentary gap of silence, Thorn leaned around the corner and then ducked back as it was again lit up with gunfire. He was still pinned. Above Silvin laughed over the loudspeaker, making his mocking contempt plain to hear. “This is clumsy, even for you!” he jeered, “I’m offended! Come on, Christian!”
____Thorn scowled, glancing above and below. The reflection of the sniper scope still shined from that office, just waiting for him to try something. And below more and more corpses continued their march to overtake the meager number of living opposing them. A vast horde of slow-moving walkers could now be seen in the open fields, approaching the jeep. Header could not fend them all off himself. Thorn grit his teeth and rammed his head on the wall his back remained pressed against.
____What do we do?!
____More gunshots then suddenly answered his unwinnable question. They came from the south, accompanied by the roaring of car engines. Both Thorn and Silvin above glanced that way, both with the same question, “What now?”

ii​

____“Hold on, here we go!” James shouted, flooring the pedal and leading the charge as Riker’s gang came bounding in to the factory grounds from the south. All five pickup trucks were armed with their plow-like bumpers, enabling them to crash into the massed zombies uninhibited. Bodies were thrown over, up, and aside as the bandits entered the factory grounds hooting and hollering and shooting. Behind them thundered an RV, two machineguns firing out the thin windows with idiotic abandon as it followed into the fray.
____“Ow, ow, gross, ow!” Jaxson shouted with each harsh bump of the pickup truck careening through zombies. He couldn’t deny the effectiveness of the zombie-dozer fixed to the car, though it was revolting and jostling work. James had the wipers on, frantically driving through the frenzied scene. They couldn’t stop at all—one raider’s truck had already hit something and halted, and its occupants hadn’t lived long as the zombies swarmed over top them like ants. James maintained a high speed.
____Riker’s voice buzzed over the radio upon the bouncing dashboard: “Git that bastard and find my brother! Lead the way, James!”
____“Yes sir, ma’am sir!” James shouted back, then covered the radio and hissed sharply at his passenger: “Hurry and find that damn girl of yours! We’re on borrowed time!”
____Jaxson gulped, frantically looking across the scene for any signs of Stacey.
____Silvin flinched as recklessly sprayed bullets struck his office windows, quickly aiming downward and shooting the obscenity-shouting bandits out of their truck beds. Even that short exchange of fire was a sufficient distraction for Thorn, and he took his chance then and there, scrambling up the tower ladder. The blessing unlooked-for couldn’t be wasted.
____The second he made the climb he could see the windows where Silvin was, and the rifle again aimed at him. Instantly Thorn hit the deck, falling prone and rolling off and behind the catwalk onto the sloped roof of the tower. Sparks flew around the spot where he just lay a second earlier as gunfire filled the air.
____“Red light!!” Silvin’s voice boomed on the speakers, Thorn spying a glimpse of the terrorist calmly reloading his rifle, shouting into the mic as he did so, “Green light!”
____The Corporal viciously leapt to his feet, firing his M4 at the office above as he ran down the catwalk: more to cover himself than to offer a genuine threat. He pressed tight against the wall of the building as he finally reached it. There was Silvin directly above him, no line of sight for the two to shoot at each other as close as Thorn now was. The Corporal bit his lip tightly, knowing his nemesis was just up there. He was so close now.
____His enemy had always escaped: always long gone beforehand, or just out of range, or narrowly, infuriatingly evading detection and slipping away. Silvin couldn’t be permitted to get away this time, not after all he’d done. Not this time.
____The Corporal moved along the walkway, back still hugging the wall and making his way to the steps that led up to the office. He ascended and immediately ducked back down, gunshots splintering the thin metal around the windows above him. Silvin was watching, waiting for Thorn to make himself visible.
____“Damn!!” Thorn muttered, glancing upward at the bullet holes where his head had only just been. So close, and yet unable to make a quick clean shot! Grimacing, knowing the zombies increasingly swarming down below, knowing Stacey was down there bleeding to death, knowing he had to be quick, the Corporal drew the sole grenade he had latched to his vest. He pulled the pin, then waited counting the tense seconds, then carefully threw the bomb up above and through one of the shattered windows.
____The round frag hit the ceiling and bounced downward into the office, landing with a soft clatter and rolling along the metal floor. Hearing this, Silvin lowered his rifle and glanced downward, “Oh!”
____Thorn covered his ears.
____BOOM!!! Above him the office thundered in the explosion, glass shards and smoke flying out into the open air as the whole floor shuddered. It was only for an instant, and Thorn immediately lifted his weapon and hurdled up the now rickety steps and followed the walkway to the office exterior. The door was blown out and he swiftly entered, carbine darting this way and that as he looked around.
____Shrapnel shards lay sunk into all the walls, and the floor was bent from impact and blackened with soot. Shattered bottles of alcohol rolled about, rendering the metal surface wet and leaky. Still Thorn saw no blood, no body parts, nor any other sign of his target save for the battle rifle lying discarded on the ground.
____It was impossible. “Where is he?” Thorn asked himself aloud, rushing to the door at the far end and aiming out down it. Empty halls on both sides, with no Silvin to be seen anywhere. Keeping his weapon up and ready, the Corporal raced down the metal corridor, finding only an empty restroom. The other side led to stairs leading down, all the open shop floor visible below. No Silvin anywhere, not even a speck of blood to follow.
____Knowing he had no time, Thorn returned to the office to quickly survey it again, still finding no sign of his prey.
____“Where did he go?!” he shouted, picking up the rifle, looking around again and again to see what he could’ve possibly missed, “He can’t be that lucky! He can’t!!”
____He tore up the room as much as he could as fast as he could without result, looking increasingly mad with the need for answers. But he wouldn’t get it, at last hearing the Sergeant shouting loudly from down below, “Kid! We’ve gotta go!”
____Thorn peered out the window, seeing Header up on the tower still calling to him. Beneath him was the shot-to-sh*t jeep where Stacey lay dying, surrounded by Reed and Oriel desperately trying to stop the bleeding. He couldn’t even see the others, as zombies swarmed all about the grounds and trucks drove about with men firing. It was chaos down there.
____Haste required that Thorn accept defeat, and he rasped with wordless exasperation at having to do so, taking the rifle he bounded down the catwalk the way he’d come, following Header down back to the vehicle. The Sergeant said nothing—no questions, no scolding—just leading the way and shooting down anything or anyone that came too close to the jeep, even these bandit rescuers. He climbed into the driver’s seat and continued firing out the broken windows, waiting for the others to join him.
____Thorn had to stop by Stacey first. All her stomach was painted red, shirt rolled up as Reed and Oriel toiled to save her. She certainly wasn’t in shock either, both legs kicking and chest heaving as she screamed and moaned in agony.
____“Shut up, shut up, shut up…” Reed muttered, both hands on her trying to stifle the bleeding. He looked up only to acknowledge Thorn’s return, “You’d better have got good news, army boy!”
____“He’s gone.” the reply was ambiguous but his expression told all.
____“Humph! Lemme see that gun!” Reed stood and stole the weapon away, expertly dropping the magazine out of its belly and quickly examining the bullets within. Measuring the caliber size he was dealing with here. He scowled, “Sh*t. Okay, help me stabilize her.”
____Oriel looked up, “We have got to leave. Now.”
____He had a good view of the undead catching up, just meters away now. This was no place to work, anyone could see. Thorn nodded, “O—Okay, just get her in the car for now.”
____Reed tossed the rifle back and stooped to hoist Stacey’s legs, “Up we go.”
____Unsure where to hold her from, Oriel mirrored his movements, awkwardly gripping her as the two picked her up. Stacey screamed loudly at being moved, but they had no choice but to just ignore her and usher her into the jeep. Thorn climbed in after them, sitting next to Header and just staring morbidly at those in the back. Car full, Header threw it into Drive and wheeled around, speeding off away from the oncoming horde. He had seen the zombies pile overtop their other vehicle and the train leaving shortly afterward, and so he followed it closely. They wouldn’t be split again.

____Jaxson frantically surveyed the chaotic scene as James’ truck continued thundering across the unpaved terrain. Where to even begin? Where would it even be safe to stop? He heard James shouting sharply at him, “Where’s this damn damsel of yours, Jax?!”
____He glanced to the office above, “Up there is where Silvin kept us… no wait!” He’d seen his friends now, just through the closing door of the moving train compartment on the tracks ahead. He lurched upright in his seat and pointed, “There, there, on the train!”
____James gripped the wheel tight, both feet hard on the gas pedal.
____The dashboard radio crackled to life as he began subtly veering to escape the destruction, Riker’s rough voice coming through: “Roree! Where’s Silvin at?!”
____“The top office up there.” James reported truthfully. He heard the crack of a rifle and saw one of the bandits go flying out of his truck bed, “See? That’s where he’ll be keeping any VIPs.”
____“Head on over then. We’re clearin’ a way in.” She ordered. Her own truck drove alongside his, shadowing it.
____James frowned, knowing he was being kept close intentionally. He veered back, still crashing through zombies in the most unglamorous off-roading Jaxson had experienced in all his life. The truck bounded across the dirt and gravel and bodies, nearing the two buildings where he had been directed. Here the zombies were at their most clustered, and the truck was thrown back and forth in the mire of them like an unsafe roller coaster cart. Throughout it all Jaxson couldn’t see hardly a thing on the bloodied windshield, only the escaping train out the window on his right.
____“The train!” he exclaimed, “They’ve gotten on the train!”
____“I know, hold on!” James told him. Almost instantly he slammed on the brakes, with the resounding thud! of the two men still in the truck bed falling against the rear window as a result: such a hard stop snapping their carabiners. Then he again floored it, front wheels bounding over a bump in the unpaved terrain, and like a bucking horse the unlatched men behind were thrown off the vehicle and landed rolling along the grass: discarded right into the hands of the swarming undead. Jaxson slumped into his seat as he watched from the mirrors, feeling icky to have killed people this way.
____James wasn’t slowing down. Faster and faster the truck sped in its pursuit, the interior shaking violently against the gravelly road of the tracks. He sped between the cover of the two factory buildings and swerved hard, deliberately ramming Riker’s truck. Crash!!
____Jaxson heard her yell, and the truck swiveled and veered aside. James didn’t slow down there, speeding on ahead and combing around the smaller structure before careening after the locomotive. He was trying to slip off out of sight, placing the building and then the train between himself and the remaining bandits. A little disappearing act in the heat of combat. Jaxson hoped he knew what he was doing.
____They were driving parallel to the train now: much too close, matching speed, and James unlatched his own seat belt. “Time to abandon ship!” he declared.
____Jaxson looked to the moving ground below and back, knowing that it only looked deceptively slow. He paled, “I can’t do that!”
____“You’re my ticket to this VACC place, you’ve gotta come with me. Your friends are on this thing. We need to make ourselves scarce before the rest of the raiders catch on.”
____“Oh, sh*t…” Jaxson muttered, mostly to himself.
____“Come on, dude! They won’t notice we’re gone for long, and this thing’s getting faster every second! Do you wanna see ‘em again or not?!”
____Jaxson shakily opened his door, the train being on his side of the truck, standing and gawking at the speeding road below.
____“I’ll be right behind you.” James assured him.
____Jaxson gulped and closed his eyes, “What’s one more crazy thing?” He leapt.

~TAF

 

[TheAverageFan]

Chapter 17

Hello, I am back. You know what that means: I'm not letting a delay sneak up on me this time. So here is Chapter 17. It is a very important chapter, so don't forget to read it!

Spoiler Alert!

17
Hope Unlooked For

i​

____They had seemingly made it out of the factory unscathed. Thomas didn’t wait for his nerves to cool down, struggling back to his feet and stumbling to the compartment’s exit. Gauge had boarded further down. Irene moved to catch him but he shooed her away, “I have to make sure she’s all right!”
____She frowned but gave him space, following behind, “Huh, sure! You’re welcome!”
____Gene and Irene both in tow, he slowly crossed the moving train and made it to where Brooke had been taken. It was several cars down, all empty containers lacking their intended undead passengers. Gauge had carefully laid her down on the featureless metal floor, worriedly checking her repeatedly for the bites he was sure had to be there. Still as he approached Thomas could see that his eyes hadn’t deceived him: she looked just fine.
____Thank God… he thought, frowning then, There must be an explanation.
____“Brooke…!” he murmured as he stooped to her side, worriedly running one hand over her hair.
____She was conscious but laying rigid and looking dreadfully pale, just staring empty-eyed at the ceiling in what was clearly shock. Quietly she continued to mutter to herself, “In came the doctor, in came the nurse…”
____“Brooke.”
____“In came the lady with the alligator purse…”
____Thomas clutched her hand tightly, “Brooke! You’re okay!”
____She flinched as if convulsing, blinking at last and glancing to him, “Thomas…!”
____He breathed a sigh of relief, hugging her tightly. She embraced him back, trembling from all that had occurred and saying nothing of what had happened to her. Gauge too was quiet, just leaning back in relief and watching the two of them in silence. Keeping whatever thoughts he might have to himself as he stared bewildered at Brooke’s safe condition.
____Irene again just huffed, shaking her head, “You’ve got some explaining to do about what happened back there, Sunshine.”
____“I couldn’t tell you…!” Brooke said.
____“Whatever.” Irene dismissed, “We need to slow down before we get too far from the others. These tracks don’t lead to VACC after all.”
____Gene tugged his collar, “Provided they made it. Who knows?”
____There was then a sudden dent against the closed door of the train compartment. Irene swore and raced to the latch, “What now?! Does it never end?!”
____She threw it open, revealing one of the bandit pickup trucks driving right alongside the train. They were shooting at it, shouting something that couldn’t be heard over the din. Without waiting for answers, Irene raised her shotgun and fired, killing the driver in a single burst of buckshot and sending the truck wobbling and careening of its own accord.
____“They’re after us.” she shut the door again and faced the others, “To the front, now!”
____Everyone nodded and rose, following Irene as she raced to the compartment door leading back the way they came. She opened it but then halted, suddenly frozen in surprise.
____There was Riker, entering with revolver already drawn. Instantly she saw Irene, pointing her weapon, face scrunching with both confusion and rage, “You?! You’re supposed to be dead!”
____“Woah, hey, hey!” Irene put her hands up and backed away.
____“I knew I smelled horsesh*t with Roree’s tale.” Riker said, entering the car, “You two just conspiring together, isn’t it? Where is that weasel? I saw him climb aboard. I’d like to inform him that his little escape plan didn’t work.”
____“I don’t know where he is.”
____“Horsesh*t again! I always knew you two were no good. What’d you animals do to my brother?”
____Her eyes and gun both darted suspiciously to the others. Irene saw this and spoke up, “I shot him when his filthy back was turned.”
____Instantly the pistol was furiously leveled back to her.
____BANG!!
____Blood and chunks of flesh burst out of the Riker’s chest and she collapsed, leaving only James standing behind her. A pale Jaxson was with him, hovering behind and looking no less shocked. Smoke trickled up from the barrel of James’ rifle and he entered the car, looking poker-faced to his guests and speaking calmly as if he hadn’t just killed someone, “I trust this buys my way into VACC?”
____“You!” Irene said.
____“Me.”
____Gene stood, “Forget him. Jaxson! You’re alive!”
____He looked relieved to see a familiar face again, though it hadn’t been so long as it felt. Jaxson made only the motion of greeting before slumping down to rest, “Somehow…! Tell me we all made it.”
____“I think so.” Thomas glanced back to Brooke, echoing his friend, “Somehow…”
____“Hm! Not yet!” Irene reminded him, “To the front!”
____Again they all raced back, compartment after compartment, to the head of the locomotive. Already there was a second bandit car driving alongside, two men carefully making their way aboard. Irene aimed quickly but was beaten to the punch, as a triple burst of assault rifle rounds tore through the would-be hijackers.
____It was Header, his M16 leaned on his own driving arm, killing the remaining passengers inside the truck and taking their place alongside the train. The Sergeant dropped his rifle and began waving and making hand gestures like a madman, shouting all the while, “What’s takin’ so long?! Git that thing to a halt!”
____“The train!?” Thomas shouted, trying to be loud enough to hear.
____“Yes the train, dipsh*t! We got wounded!”
____Thomas faced Irene, “Stop this thing. I think we’re a safe distance out anyway. Someone’s been hurt.”
____Brooke snapped to attention, “Who?!”

____Stacey was in no better shape outside the heat of battle, and here in the quiet her vast bloodloss and cries of pain stood out all the more for how dire they really were. Header hauled her out of the car and laid her down on the ground where he could better assess her, grumbling curses to himself as he did so.
____“Someone gimmie cloth an’ lots of it!” he shouted at all those gawking around him, taking time only to shove nearby Reed aside, “An’ don’t crowd me!”
____“I ain’t crowdin’ you!” Reed hissed back, rolling up his own sleeves, “Lemme take a look. I served combat medic two tours in Afghanistan.”
____“Oh, well then quit runnin’ yer mouth an’ help me.”
____It had taken some time for the train to stop, parked now mid-curve along the tracks like a half-circle of wagons where they were now gathered. Those aboard were late to catch up and watch, Jaxson the first to see his friend amidst all the blood and start to run over, “Stacey—!!”
____Header sat up, “Back off I said!! Oh it’s you. Glad yer okay. Now stay back, this is military business only!”
____“I, uh, okay…” Jaxson mumbled, staring down at her. Her eyes were still open, albeit glassy at the moment and staring far upward, only occasionally jolting to semi-consciousness with a yelp as Reed worked her shot gut. Jaxson frowned and backed off, glancing over at Thorn still slouched by the jeep, “What about him?”
____Reed shook his head, “Ah, he’s useless right now.”
____He wasn’t wrong. The Corporal, though uninjured, hadn’t budged or intervened at all. He wouldn’t bother them desperately trying to stabilize Stacey, for fear of somehow making things even worse.
____Reed was continuing to apply pressure, tossing aside rag after rag of red, “I’m gonna need a lot more blood here.”
____“She’s unresponsive.” Header told him.
____Oriel stumbled forward, “I’m O-Negative. It doesn’t matter what she is, let me help.”
____“Get up here then!”
____“Gauze, gauze…” Reed muttered, glancing about, “Do we still got that first-aid kit from VACC?” He looked back to Thorn by the jeep, “Hey! Hey you!!”
____The Corporal startled, “Huh! Me?”
____“Yes you, idiot! Find me a first-aid kit ASAP! Over here, now! Now now now!”
____The sound of urgently barked orders—even from Reed—seemed to put some life into him, as Thorn rose and searched through the car. He had taken some medical equipment from VACC when they had first left, though it had changed hands and locations enough times for him not to know its immediate placement. Only when he’d found it did he finally come to Stacey’s side, giving it to Reed and staring down at her with dreadful worry and regret.
____“Good dog.” Reed told him, emptying the pack’s contents messily onto the ground and handing out the tubes and gauze from there, “Apply pressure there while the Sarge transfers this dude’s blood. Let me work.”
____Thorn obeyed.
____Everyone watched the four toil, worried clumps around the scene. Thomas could feel Brooke nervously clutching him. She didn’t want to lose her friend. They had all lost enough, hadn’t they? So they watched and waited, as Reed worked agonizingly long: cleaning, stitching, padding, repeating.
____“That’d do for now.” he reported at last, “Keep that pressure an’ help me flip her. There’s still the exit wound.”
____Thomas breathed a sigh of relief. But Brooke clutched tighter.
____Thorn helped Reed slowly rotate Stacey, knowing her thin form would never have kept the caliber of bullet that’d struck her. But both the men still gawked as her shirt was rolled: not at the exit wound but at the state of her back entirely, scarred and deformed all over.
____“What the—” Reed said, “I didn’t do that.”
____Brooke immediately stepped forward, “It was like that before. I’ll tell you all later, just focus on saving her now!”
____He just huffed as if to shrug it all off as a mystery, “Huh! Women!”
____“Now, Reed!”
____“Okay okay okay!” He got back to work right away, focusing entirely on the exit wound only. Thorn kept his hands on Stacey’s front, still applying pressure, staring down at her and wondering in silence. She seemed fully unconscious now, numbed and quiet with slumped eyelids. What had she been hiding all this time? Why had she never said anything? Shame seemed like the only answer, and Thorn mentally shook his head and wished that he could have known better. But he was dense and a fool, and like everyone else save Brooke he could only speculate like a shallow gossip.
____What felt like and probably were hours passed performing the bloody work, until finally Reed relented and sat back. He’d done all the surgery and stabilizing that he could, and the medkit’s supplies were all but spent. Panting but not wanting to wipe his forehead with his bloodied arms, he simply nodded to the others, “I think she’s stable.”
____“Copy that.” Header answered dryly, “I’ll cut off the blood supply in a few minutes, lest we kill this one tryin’ to save that one.”
____“Yeh, good thinking.”
____Brooke raced over at last, hugging Oriel tightly, “I could kiss you! You saved her life!”
____He now looked very queasy after giving so much, “I, I, I—thank you. You helped me, I helped your beautiful friend, yes?”
____Brooke stared down at Stacey, lying still as if sleeping, “You’re gonna be okay…”
____Jaxson walked over, squeezing Stacey’s limp pale hand. He took her hat, which he had carried all this way, and placed it back on her head, “I made it out, see? You’ve gotta make it too, the both of us, don’t you see?”
____Gene spoke up, loudly asking: “So what’s the deal with her back?”
____“You helped check her for bites at VACC.” Thomas told Brooke, musing, “No wonder she didn’t want Montag performing the search.”
____Brooke sighed and stood up straight, “I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
____Gene shrugged, “You promised us you’d explain, just now.”
____“They’re burn scars. Let’s just say ‘abuse victim’ and leave it at that like the good reasonable people we are. She’s very sensitive about it. I’d rather talk about anything else.”
____“Then let’s talk about something else.” came Gauge’s voice as he shouldered his way forward. Header saw that he was armed and shot up standing, but Brooke held her hand to him to signal that there was no need to panic. The ex-Apostle slung his weapon aside and strode directly to her, eyeing her up and down as he did so, “Let’s not brush over what happened back there. I dove into that horde to retrieve your body. I didn’t die because I have King’s foul blood inside me. But you don’t, so why didn’t you?”
____Brooke didn’t answer.
____“What’s he talking about?” James asked. He was hardly the only one out of the loop.
____Gauge ignored him, “Why didn’t the zombies kill you? Answer me.”
____“I don’t know.” she said flatly.
____He shook his head, “Are you an Apostle?”
____“Of course not!”
____“Have you ever partaken of King’s blood, or any Apostle antidote or serum or whatever they called it at the time?”
____“No.”
____Gauge huffed, “Then you should’ve been eaten alive back there!”
____Looking for answers and finding none, Brooke just shrugged, “It must’ve been a miracle. Like when Thomas survived all those gunshots at the lab!”
____Thomas himself wouldn’t accept this, “Someone missing repeatedly can be explained. Zombies not doing their one job can’t. It’s not a matter of them all just dropping the ball simultaneously. That doesn’t happen.”
____Oriel struggled to sit up. “Are you suggesting she’s immune?” he rasped.
____Now all eyes were on her. Something had undeniably happened back there, nearly hiding in the shadow of Stacey’s grave injury but now brought fully into the spotlight. Immune? It was a heavy word to throw out among survivors in a time like this, not done lightly.
____Gauge shook his head, “Without King’s consent? Impossible.”
____Thomas stroked his chin, “There’d be only one way to find out.”

ii​

____They had time: not being pursued but also unable to move Stacey for now. The theory simply had to be tested, there were no excuses not to.
____The train hadn’t been loaded when they stole it and could not provide any undead, so it took a while to find a single zombie: some lonely shambler stuck out in the midst of a large field by itself. Likely just one pilgrim of many slowly making its way toward whatever life it could still sense. Along the field was a run-down white wooden fence cordoning off one section of assumed farmland from another. On this one side stood Brooke and the zombie, on the other stood everyone else daring enough to watch.
____Brooke eyed the undead with caution, knowing this could be absolute folly should anything go awry. She could die doing this thing, but it had to be done. The zombie before her was thin and bony, whipped and withered down to almost nothing by the constant lash of the elements out here. To think it had once been a person, being this close… she shook her head to rid the feeling. It was just a shell now: whoever it had been was long, long gone. There was nothing sacred to it anymore—quite the opposite actually. Just a grotesque body profanely puppeted by the enemy, cold and dead and eyeless and stinking.
____It mindlessly ambled forth, walking forward without notion, listing slightly to its left where her friends were. Brooke cautiously approached it, still keeping a meter’s distance or so. But it didn’t react, no different to the lack of reaction they had given Elias and Gauge and the other Apostles. Seeing this, she next waved her arm in front of it, then came even closer. Still it refused to acknowledge her, only barely sidestepping when she was so close as to be in its way, as if she were nothing more than an invisible wall to avoid. Brooke finally mustered the nerve to reach out and touch it, pushing it back away from her friends and then shoving it over. It slowly began to get back up.
____“Incredible.” Thomas marveled as he watched the display.
____“Just like them…” Gauge added, half-musing to himself, “But there’s no way King’s cure would ever let her pass… this can only be something else.”
____Brooke turned to them all as Gauge marched over to properly dispose of the zombie for her, finishing it off with a few good hits of his rifle stock.
____“It must be Joetex’s cure in me.” she said, “When I cut my hand on the vial. I almost can’t believe it!”
____“Neither can I.” Thomas agreed. It just seemed too incidental: that one speck of it could affect her so much, that it would work that way, that things would end up that way entirely by chance. They were all scratched and bloody at the lab, and Elias had blasted all but one of the vials with reckless abandon. Any of them could’ve mixed in with it, hypothetically. He thought on it harder, not assuming the cause first and trying to work back to that one event, reflecting instead on Brooke herself. Finally he looked back at her, “Brooke, in retrospect, have the zombies ever chased you?”
____It was a dumb question to her, “Of course. They’ve been chasing us all the way to VACC and back.”
____“No, not us, not this group you’ve been a part of since Day One. I mean you specifically. Has one ever gone after you—just you, ever? Even before the lab?”
____“Uhm.” Brooke thought on it, “I don’t know. Not that I can think of off the top of my head. I didn’t exactly keep track.”
____“Then you’ve always been immune?!” Irene asked in her usual demanding sharp-tempered tone, “They’ve just been ignoring you this whole time and you never even realized it?”
____“It’s no big deal.” Brooke said, “Gauge is immune too.”
____He shook his head, “That’s only because of Apostle. The undead were after me the same as anyone else before then. And it’s only going to be as good as King’s good will lasts. I’ll drop dead at any second, I’m certain of it.”
____“Don’t say that.” she paused to ponder a bit more, “Well come to think of it, Nazar is also immune, and I doubt it’s by any cure that we know of.”
____Thomas raised an eyebrow, “Is he? He never thought to mention that tiny detail.”
____Brooke nodded, “In Chicago when he came to help me, he walked right by them all without a second thought. He even made me invisible to them too, just by being close to him.”
____“And how did he do that? How do you know that’s what he did?” Irene asked, with increasingly little patience, “…Or did he do nothing and you yourself were immune all along?”
____“Uh…”
____“What else did he say or do?”
____Brooke shrugged, “He only asked me some questions, then led me safely to the soldiers and left.”
____“Did you never ask yourself why he came to fetch you specifically?”
____“Well…”
____Irene groaned, “You dumb c*nt. You’ve been a walking cure this entire ordeal and it didn’t even occur to you until just now—now that circumstance has made it impossible to miss—that it was even the case!”
____Brooke scowled at her, “I am not dumb!”
____“Calm down, Irene.” Thomas said. He stroked his chin, trying to think bigger than what their little group had only seen, “If we should be mad at anyone, it’s Nazar. He never once said anything about it, not to my knowledge. Not even when we were safe at VACC did he mention anything. I guess it kind of makes sense why he hadn’t bothered communicating with Joetex—a tiny bit—if he thought he already had someone immune at VACC to work with.”
____“But he didn’t even tell Brett or Lance about me!” Brooke protested, “We were there for a month without him doing anything!”
____“They was tryin’ to study the virus to find a cure there.” Header agreed, “But we’re missin’ another thing: what would he need of Brooke or Joetex’s cure when he’s apparently immune himself already? What’s he doing leadin’ them doctors around for nothin’ when he’s got the key to this whole disaster in himself?”
____“I don’t trust him.” Thomas flatly declared, “He’d have saved us all a lot of trouble had he just said what he was doing in the first place. We’d had never left VACC if we just knew about Brooke: Stanley and Shelley’d still be alive with us, and Stacey wouldn’t be in the condition she’s in. Jaxson would still have his full hand. And everything else I’m forgetting would be okay too. All because he neglected to keep any of us in the loop.”
____“Hear hear.” Gene agreed.
____“I see no reason not to be wary of him when he hasn’t shared a shred of all he knows with us. The only thing we know about him for certain is the direct tie he has to Apostle’s leader. He’s immune and yet his own doctors are still scrambling looking for a cure not even knowing it: that should be enough of a red flag for anyone.”
____Reed nodded, “The man’s right, case is closed.”
____“But…” Brooke paused, “He still saved me in Chicago. And he saved us all afterwards, and guided us to VACC…”
____Header ruminated on it, “Okay. I see no point in tryin’ to hide what we know from him. Clearly he knew about Brooke’s immunity from the get-go; we can’t fool him outta that. Let’s jus’ go to VACC as planned and work with what we got.”
____“Are you crazy?” Jaxson asked, “After all Nazar’s done to bury these leads?”
____“An’ where else should we go? I don’t even know the closest place to reach the Commander, save goin’ back to Omaha, an’ he’d likely jus’ redirect us to another VACC site. It’s a government branch after all. Nazar knew to go to Brooke, he’ll know what to look for in her. And let’s not forget what happened last time we tried to find answers by goin’ around him.” The Sergeant shook his head, “VACC’s close. The counteroffensive against Apostle can start there. Maybe now that we know what we know, that fella will be a bit more open about sharin’ his grand schemes with us.”
____“It’s true!” Gene turned to Brooke, “Think about it, missy! He went to get you, tried to keep you safe at VACC… he might need you! And well, now that you know it, you can throw your weight around a little with him.”
____She seemed a little flustered at the idea but nodded, “I trust him. I don’t think he’s our enemy. But I’ll try to keep that in mind, Gene. I don’t like being led around blind.”
____Indeed Nazar wasn’t their foe, or even their truest foe if he were somehow rotten, she knew. His brother King remained at the center of their problems, standing behind every zombie and every human enemy in their path, metal hand in their backs working them to his one will. Seeking only to see every last one of them dead. No amount of suffering or loss was too much in his black eyes. Brooke saw herself now as his nemesis: someone placed in direct opposition to his goal. Maybe he did have some kind of power as Nazar claimed, but it was clear to her now that whatever he had given himself God had also given to her in an equal countering measure. She could help reverse all he’d done, maybe. It might seem smaller, flickering by comparison, but she knew that could be a greater strength in the long run. If King was to be death and injury and terror to the world, then she would be life and healing and comfort. That thought made her feel ready to fight him, filled her with a new resolve.
____The ones who’d died hadn’t died for nothing. There was still a plan to all this. Even Silvin’s malice had only revealed the way forward for all the living.
____Brooke took a deep breath and stood up tall. “We’re going to win.” she said, clenching her fists, “Head for VACC without delay. We’re reuniting with our friends there, and taking this to the two doctors where we can begin to turn the tide. Let’s go!”
____Gauge looked upon her with awe, clearly struck by this change in her manner. He turned and obeyed at once. Thomas wished he could have done so first to demonstrate his support for her, but he wasn’t as quick or as knee-jerk in his reactions: always thinking on these things for at least a bit before acting. She did suddenly radiate command, and none of that was lost on him, but he was still hung up on Nazar. Burning with questions. Was there really no other choice than to rely on that man, or was the Sergeant just blindly deferring to his authority?
____But everything regarding Nazar would have to wait until he could be properly confronted, so Thomas shelved it for now and followed Gauge’s cue. He had been foolish enough to believe in Brooke and was now being rewarded for it, so he continued to trust in her and the path she would now take them all down. He was slipping sharply now, he knew it. Faith all over again: the blind leading the blind, his id chastised. Faith in her, faith in her optimism… you know it’ll end in bitter disappointment, it always does you poor fool! Why do you do this to yourself, here where it’ll sting more harshly than ever?!
____But he was a man in love, and as such he brushed off such concerns, knowing better than to betray her to cynicism. He respected her: that young determination blazing in her eyes when she got serious, so that when she said “Follow!” he did so to wherever she pointed. And now she was pointing to VACC, where their little group might grab the reins of the world’s fate, should Nazar prove untrustworthy. He followed her.
____Only Header waited long to do so. Gradually he took up the rear and followed. They’d proven what they needed to here. VACC was the next stop.

____For once there were stars in the sky that evening, clustered close and bright in the spaces between the clouds overhead. The group remained gathered around the train to partially hide their light as the sun set early, unable to depart right away with their numbers. Header had taken James and Gene back down the tracks to retrieve the raider cars that had harried the train. Their former owners wouldn’t be needing them any longer.
____Even if they returned early with more wheels, it was still dangerous to move while Stacey remained in critical condition. Thorn hadn’t left her side, nor had Oriel who continued to donate blood whenever possible. She remained a sorry sight, and Reed wouldn’t permit her to be moved so soon after stitching. Brooke was hardly willing to potentially kill her just to get to VACC a little bit faster, so the group had to wait overnight before departing the next day.
____Feeling restless, Brooke had spent much of that night on the radio gossiping with Louis. As usual Thomas didn’t like this, but he didn’t want to drop in on VACC unannounced and carrying a potential cure without the doctors being ready ahead of time.
____Brooke had cut the connection and told him simply, “They’re not sure what to expect, but they’ll be waiting when we get there.”
____“Is Nazar there right now?” he asked.
____“Yes.”
____Thomas wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
____When morning came Sgt. Header roused them all, whipped up a quick breakfast, and ushered them onto the road as fast as he could. He’d come back with the three cars and wanted those last few hours between them and their destination gone. Thomas shared that eagerness, keeping pace as fast as he could while remaining smooth for Stacey. One bump and a tear could still leave her hemorrhaging and that would be the end of it. Too bleak a note for their return to VACC, he figured.
____It was bliss unimaginable to see recognizable roads on the way back. At last after a journey too long too many times over they were again in VACC’s vicinity. Thomas wondered exactly how long it’d been since they left. He thought it might have been a quick errand, quicker in death should they have failed early. But instead it had been a nearly-overwhelming odyssey, and at last they were back on the shores of home, weaving this way and that through the snaking road leading to the unassuming lab. The skies had been clearer this morning and they had made the drive here unfollowed, at last returning to that one place of safety. Finally the three cars pulled up and stopped.
____It took only a few seconds before the fence opened up to permit them entrance, a clear sign that they were expected. Into the clearing they went, exiting and approaching the little white pillbox building at the center of the open field. The door was shut.
____“Smallish.” Irene noted of it, corrected immediately by those who’d lived there before. She shrugged them off, “Yeah, yeah. How do we get in?”
____“Someone let us past the gate, so someone’s watching the cameras.” Brooke told her, approaching the sealed door and staring up at one of the little periscope cams watching her, “I know you’re there. Let us in!”
____Montag’s wary voice crackled to life on the buzzer by the door, answering her, “Hold on now…! We’re all really glad you’re back, but there’s newcomers among you I see.”
____Gene laughed, “C’mon, we know how much space you’ve got down there!”
____“Her and him and him, granted.” Montag said, to Irene, James, and Oriel respectively. His next words seemed directed at the fourth newcomer: Gauge, “But him…! Louis told me about him and his kind. That I don’t think we can risk!”
____Brooke scowled, “Did Louis tell you about the rest I said of him? That he’s a good guy now? You have my word, let him in!”
____“Tisk tisk tisk… Brooke, we have lab stuff here. Confidential stuff here, assumedly! I just don’t think it’d be wise.”
____She frowned further, put her hands on her hips and spoke sterner than ever, “Stacey’s badly hurt and needs in NOW! As for Gauge, you can keep him outside all you like, but if he can’t come in then I won’t come in, understand?!”
____Montag’s fretting was plain even through just his voice, “Ah… uh…! But, Brooke, you must come in, if what you told us about yourself is true. The doctors will need to run tests and everything. You have to come in!”
____“Well that’s too bad! I refuse to enter unless you let Gauge stay too!”
____Gauge almost began to try to persuade her himself that he wasn’t worth such efforts, but Montag seemed to forfeit before he could do so. He huffed a breath or two of hesitant capitulation, “I, guh, but…! Fine, fine! But I’ll still need to check everyone for bites as per usual, okay?”
____“Okay.” Brooke agreed. The door opened and she entered, everyone piling in behind her one by one. Thomas waited at the back (knowing he might be needed to help Thorn get Stacey down the cramped ladder inside), speculating on this change he could see coming over Brooke. Already she was using this unique position she was in, commanding mercy from others. He hoped it would pay off with Gauge, otherwise it’d blow up in their faces. If he was playing the double-agent long-con, it would be for this moment. But he trusted Brooke’s judgment more than he trusted his own worries.
____Down everyone went, met at the base by their comrades. Gene was the first one off the ladder, helped by Louis and Miles awaiting their returning guests. Abbey and Lynn were also there, as was Montag hurrying out of the surveillance office in the corner. Gene smiled at the sight of his shoes leaving dirt on the clinically white floor, “Well, it’s good being in this place again, let me say!”
____“I missed those ‘Wells’!” Miles told him.
____“Miles, mon frère! I missed you! You dodged all the adventures!”
____“Make way, make way!” Thorn barked from above as everyone piled into the room below. He gradually made his way down last, carefully carrying Stacey as best he could in the cramped chute of the vertical passage. She moaned in agony at being bunched so, with Thorn only able to grit his teeth in fury at his inability to do anything about it, feeling her fresh blood on his vest. Just get her down as fast as possible, he instructed himself. Louis and Miles helped him help her as he reached the bottom, laying Stacey down again and checking where her bandages were most wetted with blood.
____Miles looked especially distraught at the sorry sight of her, almost reaching to touch her but instead balling his hand into a fist, “Stacey, no…!”
____She saw him through barely opened eyes, muttered something inaudible back to him and then fell silent. Miles looked bitterly to Thorn, almost as if he was going to lecture him, but said nothing. He could see the Corporal’s misery plain enough on his face already, not needing any words on his failings.
____Since neither of them said anything, Thomas spoke up instead, “What do you guys have in the way of medical equipment?”
____Montag scratched his head, “Nothing especially sufficient, I’m afraid. Not for what she’s got, anyway.”
____“But still better than what we had on the road, maybe?”
____The author nodded curtly.
____“I’ll help her.” Lynn said, “I know a thing or two about first aid. You’ll have to help me move her again, Corporal. The cold floor’s no place for her.”
____“I’ll go with you.” Oriel said, taking a brisk pace behind her as she led the way.
____“Not so fast.” Montag interjected. He put himself between the lot of them and the door leading to the barracks-level below, “You I don’t know, sir. But even for the ones I do, I’ll still need to check for bites. It’s the only thing keeping this place secure.”
____“Don’t bother.” The door behind him slid open and out stepped Nazar. Montag whirled, startled, but Nazar walked past him as if he didn’t exist and faced the returning party. He had those two little magnets again, Thomas saw, rolling them between his fingers. His other hand remained close to a holstered pistol. “I’m certain they’ve exercised good caution on this matter already.” he said, “Let’s focus on something far more pressing.”
____He was looking right at Brooke. She stepped forward, “So you caught wind of it. You want to run tests on me?”
____“Forget simple tests. I want to make a cure out of you.”

As always let me know what you think

~TAF

 

[TGRF]

Chapter 11:

Spoiler Alert!

11
Three Talks and a Walk

Three talks and a walk? I pray this isn't about to become the Star Wars prequel trilogy.

But Brooke knew they wouldn’t trade VACC for this, not when the lab was more defensible, better rationed, and kept waiting friends.

I feel like at least half of my commentary revolves around decision making, and invariably ends up with me weighing the odds on if people in a survival situation would really make choice X over Y.

That being said... While VACC is certainly the better option, to reach it they have to cross zombie-infested lands. That's got to factor in here - I would expect at least some people - particularly those they picked up who have no friends waiting at VACC, opt to stay here, or at least seriously consider it. Actual shelters aren't easily come by in a zombie apocalypse.

Even at VACC, we’re going to starve eventually. she realized.

Which is a further reason to consider staying here. Farmable land or some sort of hydroponic system is a must for long-term survival. This is why, in the event of a zombie apocalypse, you will find me on the nearest temperate island.

All that being said, I expect the group to easily move on for VACC. The pull of friends is powerful.

down to the back end where a locked bolted door stood.

'Locked bolted' seems redundant... I'm guessing there's either an 'and' missing, or one of the words was supposed to be deleted.

the writing on Abbey, the stove at the hotel, the speakers when Stanley had died…

And that makes me wonder... those things happened frequently in TMHW. So much so that I've forgotten some of them. But unless my memory is worse than I know, we haven't had a single supernatural thing happen yet in this story, despite opportunities at night. I feel like that can't be an oversight. Does that mean Apostle's plans are evolving, the apocalypse changing somehow...?

So Apostle was handing it out those who’d join them

Missing a 'to'. And I can already see an infiltration operation forming...

The fact that the Apostle soldier is here, and now starting to form a connection with Brooke, means that he's obviously going to play a part later. The normal route in this kind of situation would be for him to spare the group later when they get surrounded by Apostle, or turn on his former allies and sacrifice himself to save them. For originality's sake, I'm hoping for a different twist, but time will tell.

at the cost of their own conscious?

Pretty sure you meant 'conscience' there. 'Conscious' refers to 'awake and active'.

It seems odd to me that Brooke is just sitting around while the others are presumably working. I get that she's not doing the hard manual labor, but there's got to plenty of upkeep stuff they could use help with, and given Julie Anne's attitude, it's strange that she'll just let Brooke sit around.

He won’t expect me to be back so soon.

This is actually a decent argument for going back - if a weak one on it's own - and something I feel we could have used before James decided to go with Jaxson.

This girl has my condolences, but honestly at this point screw her.”

James finally says what the logical part of my brain has been saying for awhile.

We can’t just see how bad it looks and turn and sulk off.”

Yeah, but there's a legitimate difference between not wanting to do something because it's hard, and not being able to do something because it's basically impossible. I'm not sure what Jaxson wants here; attacking that place will be suicide. Plain and simple. If he's so intent on saving Stacey, he should either go back and get the manpower, or actually have a plan to sneak in and sneak out. Right now he has neither, and seems to just want James to blow his way in there or something. His words aren't making much sense.

tow the line and do everything as expected of you

The phrase is 'toe the line', as in putting your toe up to it but not crossing it.

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.”

Dang, despite what he just said I'm starting to like James. He's making sense, this one.

The more chapters we spend without Stacey, the more I begin to wonder what will happen with her next. The tension is mounting...

Honestly my biggest gripe with the story so far is the number of questionable plans or decisions being made. I can't remember them all, but there seems to be one every few chapters. Sometimes it's just a case of not explaining what the plan is, but there seems to be an awful lot of me going 'why the heck would they do that?'.

~TGRF.

 

[TheAverageFan]

Chapter 18

Fixed all spelling + grammar stuff.

Spoiler Alert!

And that makes me wonder... those things happened frequently in TMHW. So much so that I've forgotten some of them. But unless my memory is worse than I know, we haven't had a single supernatural thing happen yet in this story, despite opportunities at night. I feel like that can't be an oversight.

So far it's occurred when Header heard his wife's voice from King, and when Stacey heard barking and felt spittle while spilling her guts to Silvin.

Next chapter, long explainy chapter:

Spoiler Alert!

18
Next Steps

i​

____Silence permeated that one white room as his words set in.
____“So it’s true.” Brooke finally said, “A downright cure. You can really take this immunity and give it to everyone else?”
____“The same as Apostle, minus the devilish catch.” Nazar answered bluntly. He held out one hand, “Come. There’s not a moment to lose.”
____It all seemed quite too sudden to Thomas. Could they really make a cure right here, right now? He had genuinely given it up at the crossroads where Joetex’s vial was destroyed. It seemed impossible that those hopes could still be fulfilled. There was a sudden tension in the air which he could feel, waiting for Brooke’s answer. But she herself didn’t seem too worried about the gravity of the situation.
____“It’s been a long journey here.” she said, “At least give us a chance to wash up first, before we go diving in to something this important. Stacey’s hurt, and we could all use a breather.”
____“You act like there’s time to spare.” Nazar said, “As if you all haven’t wasted enough of it already: leaving this place, gallivanting around out there…”
____But no one leapt to his side, Louis shrugging indifferently at his words, “Isn’t there time to spare, now that they’re finally back and safe again? Forgive some survivors for wanting to sit down for a minute before bounding into the next task.”
____“Nonchalance at this time? How human.”
____“Well yeah. We’re banging, b*tchin’ humans, baby. What more do you want?”
____“Ugh.” Nazar whirled to leave, “Assemble in the doctors’ lab in twenty minutes.”
____Brooke watched him storm off. “You actually got him to agree to something.” she said, “Nice work, Louis.”
____He smirked, “Don’t mention it. I’m curious what this process will entail, but I’d prefer you all didn’t smell like zoo animals while it’s happening. Here, allow me.” He relieved Brooke of her violin and radio, then gestured behind him, “Wash up, chill out. I’ll see you downstairs.”
____“Thanks.”
____Montag led the group down from there, showing the newcomers the living quarters below. They dispersed at that, taking the chance to settle while they could. The still-functioning pipes of VACC couldn’t be undervalued, after all, not after all the muck and sweat and cold of the lengthy adventures outside. Thomas showered and shaved, a lost luxury: that wet reset feeling that used to occur every single day. It felt good and hard-earned.
____He returned to his room, feeling strangely nostalgic for it after being away for so long. It was confined compared to the Exclave’s housing, but better lit and more reliable in its uniformity and secrecy. Thomas threw on new clothes and sat next to the bed, setting aside everything he’d brought with him from the outside. His gun felt suddenly heavy as he set it on the mattress. He glanced at it, thinking. Making a cure here… there’d be a new kind of battle now.
____There was a knock at the door, Brooke peering in. She’d cleaned up, same as him, both looking far more presentable than what they had been used to. She entered, “I was about to head down.”
____“I’ll go with you.” he said, “Did Stacey get situated?”
____She nodded, “Lynn and Oriel are with her.”
____“All right.” Thomas breathed in and stood, “Let’s see what exactly is in store with this cure.”
____“You don’t think it’ll be something dangerous, do you?”
____“I won’t rule anything out until it’s over and done with.” His gaze hardened just thinking about it, “Not everything medical goes swimmingly, and I don’t particularly trust Nazar—I just don’t.”
____“We’ll find out together.” She stopped him as he turned to fetch his pistol, “What do you need that for? Let’s just go.”
____He softly laughed, “Force of habit at this point, I suppose. Okay, lead the way.”
____The twenty minutes were up quickly, so the two slipped out into the hall together and headed to the stairs leading down to the floor below where all the laboratories were. There was quite a crowd gathered there already—everyone save for Stacey and the two attending to her—all waiting for Brooke.
____“What are you all doing here?” Thomas asked.
____“We want to see what happens.” Guy said bluntly.
____Mr. Collis nodded, “Think about it, boy: if it works like Nazar claims then this will be a historic moment. Curiosity is inevitable. But you don’t mind, do you?”
____Thomas began to say something sarcastic about cramped crowded spaces but Brooke had already shook her head and pressed her way through them all, heading downstairs. Everyone followed closely, descending.
____The lab floor lacked any of the humanizing, living-space features of the one above it: just a series of halls interlinked together, closed doors on either side down each one with dark unused rooms inside. Ideally it would house dozens of scientists doing countless different tasks in all those lab rooms, but as Thomas knew in this place only two staff remained. He hoped that would be enough.
____Nazar was waiting for them all down here, standing alone in the center of the main hall. He said nothing as they approached, simply turning and leading the way onward. They followed.
____The bickering voices of Dr. Lance and Dr. Brett were the only signs of life here, becoming louder as Nazar led the way to their office. The dry scent of smoke in the air thickened as they neared.
____“…As always you insist on the non-provable, non-disprovable arena, which is not where I go for intellectual discussion!”
____Dr. Brett’s voice was soon followed by Dr. Lance’s: “The signs make it more provable by the day, Brett, if we’re only willing to accept them!”
____“You’re too willing to accept them! I have no doubt you’re already working on finding ways to twist it to fit your own belief narratives, so you can say ‘ah yes, of course, just as prophesized!’ Well one of us has to keep a level head.” Dr. Brett stopped and looked up as everyone arrived and piled into the small office (already crowded with computers, equipment, and empty beer bottles littered about), turning in his swivel chair and setting aside a lit cigarette, “Ah, Nazar. You’re back, everybody. Anyways Lance, you’re in a rut of having conclusions first and evidence second, if at all. I’ll grant it’s not limited to religious scientists, this mindset, but you will always have it by default no matter how hard you try. And it skews the scientific process, all things subtly rolling its way like a curve on the floor.”
____“Keeping busy as always, you two, it seems.” Header grunted, snatching the cigarette from the ash tray and taking it for himself, “We’ve got work for you to do.”
____“Hmm.” Dr. Lance glanced at Brooke, musing, “So it is actually true, then?”
____Nazar nodded.
____“Okay, pile in everyone.” The Doctor swiveled in his chair to meet his cohort, “Dr. Brett, would you be kind enough to fetch us some better goods? This is cause for celebration.”
____“I could do that.” Brett stood and wormed his way out of the room.
____Lance pulled up an empty chair next to him, which Brooke took a seat in and waited patiently for what came next. The Doctor moved equipment around on the overly cluttered desk he shared with Brett, making no small amount of racket in doing so, finally pulling a metal case up and opening it.
____“What’s in there?” she asked.
____“Needles.” Dr. Lance said, speaking loudly so all could hear as if giving a tutorial, “We’ll start with some bloodwork.”
____Brooke frowned, “I don’t know what’s special about me, Doctor.”
____“Neither do I. But whatever it is, Brett and I will find it out, isolate it, replicate it, and then mass-produce it if we can. Such is the purpose of VACC. We’ve only had zombie blood to work with thus far, in the infected cases. We’ll cross-examine it with yours.” Lance latched a tube to a needle and examined it closely, tapping on it, “We’re just glad we have you back here now. Here where we have time and safety.”
____“Hm!” Header grunted, exhaling smoke, “Will you actually be able to make a cure out of this?”
____“If they can fashion a disease, we can fashion a cure.” Lance motioned for Brooke’s arm, “Though I’d have liked to have done this sooner, had you not left in the first place.”
____“We didn’t know.” Thomas explained. He couldn’t help but glance to Nazar, “Or that is, all of us but one didn’t know.”
____He only smirked.
____Seeing that made Reed scowl. “So it’s true you knew all along?!” he shouted.
____“She wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know. In fact none of you would be here now.” Nazar excused calmly, “No, she’d have been eaten by her friends in Chicago were she not immune even back then. I knew, I fetched her, I tried to keep her here.”
____“Do you know why she’s immune?” James asked.
____“It’s the same simple reason why I myself am immune.” Nazar said, “Bloodlines, all tracing back to King himself. Indeed his virus is based on his own blood, as is our resistance to it.”
____“King’s blood…” Brooke mused, unsure what it meant for her.
____“What is he?” Thomas asked Nazar.
____He received only a shrug, “I told you already: he’s my brother. Our father raised us both in seclusion at his lodge off Sunholly Avenue: schooling us both and learning us in the way of the world and of mankind. By the time of his arrest we were already self-sufficient enough to survive on our own, still hidden. We spent our time there studying, reading, watching, observing your kind… discussing the state of things even at a young age, and what should be done of it…”
____“At Omaha, you said you helped create him as he is now.”
____“I did.” Nazar admitted, “We had both agreed that all life on this planet should be ended, but he had concluded that we should rid ourselves of our humanity in order to better achieve this goal without the sways of temptation or hesitation. And so we devised an experiment. King—being so insistent on casting off his humanity—was the subject, and I the surgeon.”
____The nonchalant tone of these confessions didn’t much please Thomas, “What exactly did you do to him?”
____“First he was drugged with a cocktail of various sensory-afflicting chemicals, to the point of complete deprivation: numb, deaf, blind, etcetera. Then I injected a poison into his bloodstream, comatose in dosage, precisely inducing a deathlike state. Lastly and most importantly were the knives.” Nazar paused just recollecting those moments, “Seven wedge-blades of cyocite, systematically placed into his body in the most essential organs. His heart, his brain, his liver, both kidneys, both lungs. I did this knowing what it would do but then sealed them away inside him, under the armor, and induced a waking drug alongside a precisely timed electric current to bring him back.”
____Header huffed on his borrowed cigarette, “It sounds like you jus’ murdered him!”
____“To the casual observer I did for all intents and purposes kill him.” Nazar explained, “But he was indeed brought back, changed to how he is now, all that I did sealed away. The knives remain, but so does he: both alive and dead. A human needs their senses and their vital organs and their very life to survive, but he no longer requires such things.”
____“Schrödinger’s man, it’s supposed to be?” Collis guessed at this explanation.
____Dr. Lance shook his head, exhaling smoke through his nostrils, “That paradox regards quantum superposition, though that is not my field. Here it doesn’t make any sense at all. Whether he was conscious or not to observe the end state, what you did would’ve killed him.”
____“Indeed the man was killed.” Nazar agreed, “But the paradox of his continued survival remains—being the first zombie: continuing to move and think and function despite his state. I believe he still keeps himself constantly drugged to this day to maintain that deprivation, never feeling the killing knives he knows are still in him. From that one being all the other undead are born, through his virus that originates with his blood. That is the code we are here to crack.”
____Brooke scratched her head, no less lost after all his explaining, “But how am I a part of all that?”
____He smiled, gesturing for Dr. Lance to proceed while they talked, “The web is wider than you think, Beth Arnakis, age twenty-four, legal guardians Bob and Fran Arnakis. Yes, legal guardians. You’re adopted, in case you’d forgotten that particularly essential detail. Severed from us and kept apart by a wide chasm of vague and distant relations, but still a part of it nonetheless. It took no small amount of work to track you down, but for that I’m thankful. It’s kept you hidden.”
____Brooke flinched as the needle went in, “You’re saying I’m actually related to you?”
____“Distantly so, but yes.” Nazar watched the tube turn red with blood as Dr. Lance did his work, “While I am immune to the undead due to my relationship with King, I’m afraid my own body is of no use against him. He knows me, knows I oppose him. He used his power to nullify my blood and render it impotent against his virus long ago, correcting the error. It can’t be used to protect anyone but me. He’s done the same to all living relatives who might pose a similar threat. But with you Brooke, with you we have something of a chance. Distant, anonymous. His will never bent upon you. He isn’t aware.”
____“But King knows everything!” Gauge muttered in protest.
____Nazar faced him, “Does he? Does he really? I think you’ll find that he’s not so all-knowing or all-powerful as his image projects. He seeks knowing the same way he seeks power: think of all the worldly resources he still requires to achieve his goal. Machines to gather and compute information to him, manpower from the very humans he despises so much, money to supply them, undead to manually assemble his endgame bit by bit. Even the symbol on that uniform of yours he had to create with humanity in mind: to speak universally to you all, using the common psychological tricks of the trade to create that recognizability, that solidarity required to band you all together. These are very human ways to achieve power, but he will utilize every last one of them to their fullest extent to get what he ultimately desires. It’s no different in regards to what he does and doesn’t know. He still requires many worldly ways to obtain information, no different than any other foe. He knows more than anyone should naturally be able to perhaps, enough to fool you into believing it as an absolute, but still not everything. And as long as that remains the case he can be defeated.”
____Brooke reflected on her one close encounter with him previously, how he had dealt with the cure and left. Doubtlessly he would have put far more effort into killing her had he only known. Instead he had gone chasing after Reed. She was safe from his knowing, “Are there others like me out there?”
____“It’s somewhat likely.” Nazar answered vaguely.
____Dr. Lance didn’t take long to finish his work, drawing only a small sample of blood and divvying it up between separate containers. One of these—a little plastic vial—he inserted into a device of some sort by his computer which began whirring, making the empty bottles on the desk rattle. Swigging some more beer that was always present in that cramped office of theirs, he then swiveled his chair over to a separate monitor and keyboard and began examining the data populating the screen.
____“Interesting…” he muttered, “Interesting, interesting…!”
____“What is it?” James asked.
____Lance glanced back to them all, “So far it’s perfectly normal. Ironically you’re a B negative, Brooke.”
____“Ugh!” Montag groaned, “There has to be something, man!”
____“I’ll run further tests myself, and send some to VACC-102 for good measure and safekeeping. They’ll have better equipment there.”
____“Better scientists too, hopefully.”
____Nazar didn’t seem fazed, “Relax, Montag. This is only the beginning of my counteroffensive, and we can be patient with it. My own blood also appears normal. There is something there, rest assured. It’s plain to see by her invisibility to the undead.”
____Montag glanced to Dr. Lance for reassurance, seeming to trust the one in the lab coat more despite his previous complaint, “You’re sure?”
____The doctor nodded, “If what you guys said about her is real, I’m sure. Don’t despair at a lack of visual results. We should thank invisibility, it’s the biggest sign of hope.”
____Dr. Brett returned then, almost on cue. He held a bottle of champagne, startling everyone as he opened it while making his way back into the room. POP!! With no small amount of spillage he set some glasses on the messy desk and began pouring foaming bubbly into each one.
____“This represents victory…!” he muttered, next taking a small box he’d had tucked under his arm and opening it to reveal cigars inside, “And this represents, ah, results.”
____“Cigars?!” Header lit up. He snatched one of the tightly-wrapped little brown dachshunds, “Hot dog!”
____The Sergeant tore one end off with his teeth, even as Dr. Brett stood there silently offering a clipping guillotine in vain. Montag watched them all light their cigars and pass around champagne glasses, still frowning. “This suddenly feels like preemptive celebrating to me. I still fail to see how invisibility is the big hope here.”
____“Ha!” Brett laughed loudly, looking to his comrade, “What has the good Dr. Lance got you on?”
____Lance elaborated: “We have hope in secrecy, and also the best things are often invisible: occurring without our knowledge through their success, or that they didn’t happen at all. I for one am thankful for that. No news is good news, as they say?”
____Brett just chuckled, “Elaborate. Give him one of your theoretical parables please, about how Jesus will make things work when we’re all not looking.”
____“Very well.” Dr. Lance took a long drag on his own cigarette, setting the spent wad in the ashtray and accepting a cigar before the smoke was even out of his mouth, “Here’s an example for you. Let’s say there is a God, who is good. Through the clockwork of the universe there is by chance a giant meteor on a collision course with Earth. So because He is good God makes the meteor shatter, or change its course, or never be in the first place or whatever have you. Now the calamity never was. How many people then would be thankful for this? None, because they never knew it would’ve happened otherwise. But that doesn’t change the fact that things conspired in secret to do some good. That could happen constantly to keep us alive, and we’d be none the wiser. Good is often quiet. Your quiet good has escaped the eyes of King, Brooke. Do you understand now?”
____Dr. Brett only scoffed at the story, “I for one would say that this is a rather poor analogy, given the current situation with Lumis’ Comets. And I won’t give praise for shots in the dark: things that might’ve happened. I choose instead to be bitter about things which did happen, such as this apocalyptic outbreak, which apparently wasn’t so bad as to merit God blocking it in advance.”
____A sigh, “For all we know it could be much worse.”
____“It could always be much worse! It could always be much better! What nonsense!”
____“Irregardless, we now have some hope.” Lance dismissed, “I’d like a wider sampling from you, Brooke. Blood is good, but some bone marrow would be better. I want a biopsy and an aspiration of red marrow, stem cells, spinal fluid. Brett, can you prepare such a procedure for me? I think all the hematology stuff in B311 is still there.”
____His colleague stood and straightened his lab coat, “It shouldn’t take long. But you owe me a beer for making me do all the hard work.”
____“Mmnhmm, done.”
____Louis watched Brett head out, “Do you need any help setting up? I feel useless.”
____“If you want.” With that the two departed.
____Gauge watched them leave, turning to Dr. Lance. “Test me.” he said, taking Brett’s empty seat and rolling up his own sleeve, “I don’t wanna just be an onlooker either. Apostle gave me their cure. Maybe I can help too.”
____The doctor nodded, “Hmm, okay. While we’re waiting.”
____“Your offer is moot.” Nazar told the ex-soldier, “King’s blood can’t be used against him.”
____“Why not? Isn’t a cure is a cure?” Gauge said.
____“All you have is a contagion masquerading as immunity.” Nazar said, “Do you honestly think we haven’t tested Apostle blood before? We’d have a cure already if it could be so easily pried from simple troops like you.”
____Thomas was confused, “But it does work. The zombies leave him alone. I’ve seen it.”
____“King’s ‘cure’ is nothing but poison staved off by his own will. Even fresh vials of it only kill the user, unless King himself permits otherwise.” Nazar nodded down at Gauge, “And traitors find themselves dead of that very toxin never long after leaving Apostle.”
____“I know.” Gauge replied solemnly.
____Gene scratched his head, “How come he’s not dead yet then? It’s been a little while.”
____“Isn’t it obvious?” Nazar said, “If he hasn’t died then he still has some use to my brother.” His gaze hardened, “You still serve his purposes, one way or another… but how or why or if you’re even in on it is yet to be seen…”
____Gauge looked away, biting his lip.
____Dr. Lance saw the downcast face and began prepping to take additional samples anyway. “Well I for one am curious to see what we’re looking at here.” he said, “Just in case.”
____He again wired some needles, turning to the tightly rolled sleeve of the ex-Apostle soldier and beginning to draw more blood. The nature of Apostle’s cure remained a curiosity, so Thomas watched closely as the samples were taken and inserted into the machine.
____“We’ll cross-reference it with the existing copies.” the Doctor explained as the device whirred and results began to populate on the computer screen.
____While Lance worked, Louis returned, silently slipping back into the office and standing close behind Brooke. She noticed him, muttering quietly, “That was fast. Did you and Dr. Brett get ready?”
____“Ha, no. He kicked me out.” he softly laughed, “I think I was only getting in his way.”
____She smiled, “You can’t be that incompetent.”
____“Survey says: apparently I am.” Louis shrugged and then took on a more serious look, “Listen Brooke, can I speak to you?”
____“You already are.”
____“I mean in private, while we’re waiting for Dr. Brett. It’s important.” Louis’ eyes drifted to the Doctor working with Gauge, “Unless you’re still busy with Lance…”
____“Not really.” She quietly followed him out into the empty hall, slipping away from the others. Even this wasn’t remote enough for him, Louis venturing down the passageway and into one of the empty labs, holding the door open for her. Brooke went on in, curious about his sudden random request. It was one she took seriously, as Louis rarely asked anything of her. He wouldn’t insist on such secrecy unless it really was important.
____But they weren’t so alone as they thought; Thomas noticing the pair sneaking off to privacy on their own. Still unable to bring himself to avoid eavesdropping, he’d heard their muttered conversation and had crept out after them. He trusted Brooke plenty but Louis very little. And Thomas trusted himself, and certainty, even at the cost of integrity. He hoped Brooke would respect him not respecting her trust, if she ever knew, and silently followed behind. Knowing what he was doing was petty and insecure.
____Why do I do this? No one else minded their slipping off. he wondered, Certainly Gauge and Oriel both seem to like Brooke plenty, but I’m not so guarded and jealous around them. I told myself I would trust Brooke’s judgment; why can’t I actually do that? But then the justifications would always come to soothe him, But Louis is a different animal compared to those other two. He would try something, knowing she’s taken! I just need to be sure…
____But Brooke wouldn’t let Louis do that, would she? Why couldn’t he be assured that she could handle that? Knowing this and feeling aggravated with himself, Thomas kept following along like a distant creep.
____There was Louis holding the door open for her, letting her into the dim spare lab. He looked serious but happy, for conflicting reasons Thomas could only begin to guess at. Once she was in the room he passed in through the doorframe behind her. But that wasn’t all: Thomas caught a glimpse of shining black between the man’s shirt and pants, Louis reaching behind him to a tool that had been casually holstered between his back and belt, hidden under his shirt: a black stubby handgun with a short silencer attached to the barrel.

ii​

____Look out!! Thomas couldn’t even shout the words for fear of alerting Louis of what he’d witnessed. Instead he simply did all he could think to do: suddenly charge right down the hall and barrel into Louis as he calmly aimed the weapon at his unaware guest’s back.
____The pistol fired, misaligned by the sudden impact of Thomas crashing into him. He’d pushed Louis down and had knocked into Brooke as well, the three tumbling into the large dark room. Louis reacted quickly, kicking Thomas off of him and scrambling to his feet. There was no grappling over the weapon to be had, so Thomas in turn only immediately clutched Brooke’s hand and leapt to his feet. There were two Damns: Louis hadn’t dropped the weapon, and he was now between Thomas and the only exit. Damn damn!
____Louis was on his feet and readjusting his aim, Thomas yanking Brooke along and ducking behind one of the waist-height counters throughout the room. Several more bullets pierced the wall, narrowly missing the two of them.
____“Bastard!” Thomas shouted as he and Brooke barely evaded the gunfire.
____“Ah! What’s happening?” Brooke whispered hurriedly, Thomas just pulling her along through the dark unlit room. It was at least one of the larger labs, about thirty by forty feet. Still they had to keep moving and stay out of sight, and that wasn’t an easy ask as they were forced to keep low or else risk getting shot.
____Louis ceased fire but didn’t immediately pursue them, simply smiling and reaching behind to close and lock the exit. Only the window on that one door allowed any light in, silhouetting him as he casually reloaded his weapon and spoke clearly to them, “There’s only one way out Thomas, you insecure little stalker.”
____Thomas’ chest felt tight. They were stuck in here, and Louis had a gun. Thomas reached for his own weapon but it of course was not there, aggravatingly left behind in his room. He cursed himself for ever willingly parting with it for any reason.
____The only advantage they had over Louis right now was that there were two of them. Swallowing his urge for self-preservation, he released Brooke’s hand and waved her away, silently mouthing the command: Keep moving.
____She seemed to understand and crawled off, staying low to the ground and out of sight behind the tables. Thomas struggled to steady his breathing before speaking up loud and clear, “Why are you doing this, Louis?”
____Louis slowly advanced in the direction of his voice, pistol at the ready. He still spoke loudly, an indicator that he perhaps didn’t know Thomas’ exact location: “I really didn’t want to, to be perfectly honest. You can’t imagine how upset I was to hear that sweet little Brooke had to be the one. Truth be told you probably felt similar dread when finding out there was something special about her. But it had to be done. Do you really think I want humanity to make a comeback?”
____“What I really thought was that you cared about Brooke!” Thomas goaded, backing away from the sound of Louis’ advancing steps. He stayed well out of Brooke’s way, trying to lead Louis to the other end of the room so she at least could escape.
____“There is one woman I care about more.” Louis admitted with a grin, lowering his weapon and fiddling with his neon wristbands, a display Thomas could barely make out from behind one of the counters. He removed the left one and held his arm out, a tattoo of the Apostle symbol previously concealed by the band embedded on his wrist. “Take a good look!” he said proudly, letting the one beam of light run along his arm, “I do love Brooke, but not as much as I love Gaia: our one and only home.”
____He must’ve caught a glimpse of Thomas peeking out, suddenly running over and bounding up onto the countertop. There was no hiding from this, Thomas merely just dropping and rolling away. Only a single silenced gunshot rang out, piercing the floor, before Brooke shouting stole his attention away.
____She had stood up in the other corner of the room, abandoning the pursuit of the door in favor of drawing Louis’ gaze, “What do you mean!? Stop this, Louis! Please!”
____He instantly turned and fired upon her, a bullet grazing her neck and knocking her back down. She cried out and hid again, Louis hopping off the table and walking over in that direction. He moved slowly and methodically, playing with his food now that her wound would leave him a trail to follow.
____“You have to understand all the good your death would do, Brooke.” Louis declared as he calmly pursued her, “This isn’t an apocalypse: it’s worldwide disarmament. Actually think about it. It’s mercy.”
____Thomas both breathed a sigh of relief and felt a pang of fury at Brooke for giving up her position for him. He knew why she’d done it, but the knowledge of her greatly inflated importance still made it a bad trade. There was hardly time to reflect on it though: Brooke needed him.
____“What’s merciful about it?” he shouted, provoking his enemy as he crawled for the door. Louis couldn’t keep on Brooke if the exit was threatened.
____“Think about all those factories shut down now. All the electricity powered off.” Louis explained, “No more smoke plumes. No more bulldozers. No more cars upon cars spewing death every single minute of every single day. You can’t possibly imagine how much waste a single dead person doesn’t produce, let alone billions.”
____Thomas paired the reasoning with the Apostle tattoo, grimacing, “So you’re an ecoterrorist then, is that it?”
____He heard Louis laugh, “Nasty word. Propagandist word. Give me a break, Thomas! You’re all here to try and save humanity. I’m here to keep the world saved from humanity.”
____Brooke avoided his voice as he paced after her, just crawling along and trying to make her way back to Thomas. If they were together Louis would have to be wary of being jumped from behind if he got too close. She could hear him casually pacing after her, following the blood in the dark, taking his time, talking calmly as he went:
____“There’s just too many of us. The truth of the matter that even other preservationists are afraid to admit is that we traded our environment for food security. Countless miles of land cleared away to produce the ungodly amount of safe eating material to feed and feed an ever-ballooning population, with nothing to cull or curb us. That’s the number one contributor, and something we couldn’t undo without killing millions by hunger. Do you think any politician could ever possibly succeed by publically supporting that? Do you think our kind could ever make that species-saving jump in any way other than by forcing it with terrorism?!”
____With a sudden quickening of pace he turned the corner along the path of lab-counters that Brooke had crawled and hid behind. More silenced gunshots fired off as Brooke scrambled on all-fours around the next bend.
____Missing only seemed to amuse him however, Louis grinning and following after her, “Apostle understands this, better than anyone. They’ve reduced man to a more fitting form. It’s better off that way. For all the sadness, the world can finally breathe again.” He quickened his pace, “Why would I ever permit us to get rid of the undead—such a necessary predator as they are? Do you think I’m gonna let Nazar just take that away?!”
____Thomas scowled, helpless to intervene directly. His head was pounding intensely now from the pressure of being in an enclosed space with a gun. Seeing Louis hounding Brooke on the other end of the room, he now stood and bolted to the locked door. In his panic he could only fumble with the lock for a moment, as Louis instantly halted and whirled to face him. Thomas dove, hitting the smooth floor hard and rolling behind the lab counters lining the room, as bullet holes punched into the door and wall behind him. One struck the small portcullis-like window on the door, loudly cracking the thick glass and nearly shattering it.

____Down the hall Sgt. Header perked up at the faint noise. He glanced aside and stood while the others continued to talk.
____“I’ve got bad news, Gauge.” Dr. Lance was saying as he peered down the blood results, “You have nothing more than a placebo in your system.”
____The ex-Apostle frowned, “But they did give me something!”
____“They gave you something made to seem like something.” Lance elaborated, “A dose of King’s blood—which we already can’t crack in the infected cases—dolled up to look like a serum.”
____Nazar nodded, “I told you already, you’re of no use. A dead man walking, with only the virus in his veins. We have plenty of that already in the captured zombies here.”
____Gauge almost stood but then just slumped back in his seat, looking defeated at being unable to help. He said nothing more.
____Thorn meanwhile glanced to his superior: just standing there looking out the hall silently like an alert dog, “What’s the matter, Header?”
____“Thought I heard sumthin’. Brooke’s not here, an’ neither is Thomas or Louis.”
____“Louis is with Dr. Brett.” Lance told him.
____“No he ain’t. I saw him come back before leavin’ again.”
____Instantly Nazar was alarmed, “Check it out now. Immediately!”
____It was rare for him to have an urgent tone. Everyone scrambled out the door.

____Louis saw that his trap was being threatened: smirking and strolling over, “I do take one cue from mankind, Thomas: sometimes natural selection isn’t good enough. Sometimes a shepherd needs to step in and correct any kink in the ecosystem.”
____Thomas moved quickly, trying to continue stringing Louis along and after him. If he could circle, if he could keep this guy walking and talking calmly, maybe Brooke could unlock the door and slip out. If she could sneak over, if he could sneak away without either of them dying… As long as there were two of them…
____He spoke as he went, trying to keep Louis baited along, “Do you really have to kill for this?! Haven’t enough people died already?”
____“I wish I didn’t have to. But I can’t see that short-term. Do you think Apostle wants this apocalypse to be a one-off event? No, this must be a persisting cataclysm, permitting only a meager human race. Accept things as they are now; stop trying to go back!”
____He saw Thomas crawl around the corner and again leapt upon the counter, not permitting his prey to slip off again so easily. Thomas dove but Louis bounded after him, jumping down and landing on the actor’s back. The two struggled for only a moment before Louis seized Thomas’ arm and rolled him over. The pistol came pointing directly at him, Thomas looking into the weapon’s barrel as it stared him down. The cat-and-mouse game had reached its end.
____“I’ve spent my whole life watching the Earth bleed.” Louis smugly told him, “Now we can finally permit it to heal. You should be glad.”
____“Even if you kill us, Brooke’s blood won’t change.” Thomas told him.
____“It won’t stay good for long once she’s dead, I promise you that.”
____“Some of it’s already been bottled.” Thomas heard pounding on the door now, coming from the outside. They’d finally heard the commotion. He glared up at Louis, “You’ve already lost just by her getting here!”
____Yet Louis didn’t seem worried, smiling confidently, “That so? I don’t think it’ll be going anywhere any time soon. All I really need is to destroy the source and the rest won’t get off the ground. Speaking of which…” He grabbed Thomas and yanked him to his feet, standing up with him, “Brooke, away from that door or else Tom will—!”
____But she hadn’t gone to the door, not even with the banging on it continuing. Instead she had crawled over, still foolishly thinking of saving Thomas first, and was much closer than Louis anticipated when he stood and faced the door. Holding a microscope from one of the counters in both hands, she pounced and struck him with it. Bludgeoned with the metal tool, he fell, taking Thomas with him.
____That was the moment. Thomas turned and began viciously grappling with him over the pistol, the two rolling along the floor punching and kicking. The weapon discharged twice before Thomas could get a good grip on it, holding the slide tight to keep it from firing and accidentally hitting someone while he tried to pry it from the Apostle agent.
____At last his grip prevailed, flinging the pistol away and sending it sliding along the smooth lab floor. Thomas moved to steal it but Louis tackled him, punching him repeatedly before kicking him aside. Thomas’ head struck the counter and he rasped for breath, seeing stars. Now unhindered, Louis dove for his weapon.
____He found it in Brooke’s hands now: having easily retrieved it while the other two fought and wrestled on the ground. She now backed away from Louis, aiming it shakily at him but not firing just yet.
____At first his eyes widened at this, but then he calmed and shrugged, holding out his hand, “Give that here, Brooke. You don’t want to kill someone.”
____“You tried to kill us first!” she said. Her eyes fell to the Apostle tattoo there on his wrist, illuminated in the sole beam of light, “I can’t believe you’d do all this…!”
____His open hand clenched tight. “I’ll do whatever’s necessary to protect this planet. You’d do the same if you’d only think about the repercussions!” Louis detected the vitriol in his voice and calmed down, unballing his fist. “Do you have what it takes?” he asked, “If not, you could toss it to Thomas. No doubt he’d be glad to be rid of me. But I might catch it then.”
____“You think I can’t do this myself? I don’t want to kill you at all! But I will if I have to.”
____Louis glanced to the door, still hearing the banging against it. He narrowed his eyes and took a step forward. Brooke took a step back. He smiled, “No, you won’t. You wouldn’t dare, Brooke.”
____She paled. He took another step forward. Another step back.
____“You don’t want that on your conscience. You can’t take a life. You’re supposed to save lives, not steal them away forever.” Louis advanced further, “What would God say to your killing me, when you ought to help even your enemies?”
____“It’s self-defense.”
____“Horsesh*t. You know you’d be better off being a martyr.”
____Another step closer. Still she didn’t act, motionless and pale in the dark.
____The door rattled harder. Louis’ eyes darted to it.
____Knowing they were about to break in, Thomas struggled to sit up. He shouted to Brooke, “Wound him, quickly!”
____The door finally burst open. Seeing this, Louis immediately lunged for her as fast as he could. She shrieked and the gun fired twice. As Thomas stood he saw Louis now lying on the floor pooling in his own blood. Both shots had struck him: one in the upper chest and one in the face below the eye. He was dead.

~TAF

 

[TGRF]

Re: Chapter 18

Reply:

Spoiler Alert!

And that makes me wonder... those things happened frequently in TMHW. So much so that I've forgotten some of them. But unless my memory is worse than I know, we haven't had a single supernatural thing happen yet in this story, despite opportunities at night. I feel like that can't be an oversight.

So far it's occurred when Header heard his wife's voice from King, and when Stacey heard barking and felt spittle while spilling her guts to Silvin.

Hmm, see I had forgotten about Header hearing his wife, and I chalked Stacey up to just reliving what she was talking about vividly. In TMHW these things were obvious and focused on by all the characters, in this story no one has really dwelt on any of it, hence me not seeing it - it still seems a bit odd how dialed down they are so far.

~TGRF.