Dying Light: The Descent

One of them stepped out, driver seat. Glancing around. The other two then did the same.

A low growl escaped the stranger’s charred lips. 

The two big ones below didn’t look right.

Crane examined the bridge’s raised span from the driver’s door. Counterweights were fine but there were no lights. No control box around either. 

Would have been too easy if it were right next to them.

He gazed up to the only place for the answer; drawing his gaze from one side of the Dam to the powerhouse on the other side. 

“Looks like our best bet’s the dam, then,” he said.

Crane had already charted in his head where to go inside and what he had to do. The narrow windows along the Dam’s face glowed faintly, showing that at least some of the systems were still running.

“Hopefully, nothing’s fried.” 

“The Baron should have some men stationed here,” Olivia added, now warily glancing around. “But…”

“No sign of anyone around,” Aiden beat her to the punch, combing their surroundings.

Since arriving here, everything seemed oddly calm. And there was evidence that the Dam had been converted into a Safe Zone. One set of stairs led up to where he spied some floodlights in the treeline. A post setup left abandoned at the Dam’s staff gate.

Crane would had at least seen some trouble coming their way. And yet, no hollers, no guns, not even a warning shot. 

Only for the rushing water.

“Maybe they stepped out?” he tossed that out. As if it were that easy, though.

After everything that happened in Castor Woods, some of the Baron’s men had eventually given up and ran away, tail between their legs. So this far away, clearly, they hadn’t gotten the memo…

Crane didn’t believe that himself, however.

“Hey,” Aiden muttered sharply. “We’re not alone.”

Crane and Olivia followed his line of sight.

Up to the spillway, where the stranger stared down at them.

Had it not been for the angle, they’d never have known someone was up on the spillway. Crane took it upon himself to pull out his binoculars for a better look.

Against the sun’s flare, he could indeed make out a person. 

But they didn’t look like one of Baron’s men. With the sun high, it was hard to see much details hidden into shadow. All he knew was that the figure wore a long, hooded camo coat — the blues discolored.

Alright. So they weren’t the only ones at the Dam. Now, was this person friendly?

Because there was something odd around the face and shoulders. Dark patches here and there that didn’t look like fabric… Something pale and leathery stitched onto the dark blue attire.

More concerning was that their stranger didn’t budge at all. 

Nothing else. Not even a wave of the hand to show they meant no harm like any sort of person.

Just watching them all the way up there.

Crane lowered the binoculars slightly, furrowing his brow. That was what bothered him.

“One of your friends?” Olivia asked.

Aiden heaved a sigh, more perplexed than everyone else. “Maybe… I know they wouldn’t be standing out in the open like that.”

A dilemma at hand. And the stranger at the spillway wasn’t making their move either.

They were at a stalemate — both sides cautious of each other until someone did something.

And Crane was that guy to take the dive, apparently.

“One way to find out.” Crane took out his walkie-talkie. “Hopefully, they have a radio on them.”

Beep!

“Hey.”

Through the binoculars, he watched. As luck would have it, the stranger seemed to stir, as if reaching for something on themselves. 

Attached to their coat was a squat yellow box that crackled and hissed. White noise crawled out of it, a faraway voice bleeding through the static; insistent, beckoning them to answer the box. 

Talons reached out to the radio, molten-orange veins snaking across carapace-covered skin.

“We’re not looking for trouble. Just trying to get across,” Crane’s voice echoed. “Think you can lower the bridge for us?”

Golden eyes flared wide.

As if something long submerged had been jolted upward — then fractured, blue simmering beneath the gold. 

The stranger didn’t answer back. Didn’t tear those eyes away from Crane down below.

“Do you copy?” he tried again.

Somehow, that stirred the stranger again. This time, their head snapped towards the way they came from. 

Something moved inside that building… 

ZZkkk-chh!

“Gark!” 

One clawed hand shot through the long, tangled mass of hair and clutched at something metal around their neck, as if loosening it would stop that insufferable jolt of pain.

But as quickly as it came, the horrible sensation vanished, giving them some relief. 

An endless cycle. Another burn layered atop old burns…

The cloaked stranger lingered for an awful amount of time that Crane almost thought they were trying to pull something. Wordlessly, however, they stepped away from the spillway and strode in the direction of the powerhouse.

Forward, slow, like they had all the time in the world, now that it had long gone to hell.

Until Crane couldn't see them anymore.

“I guess that’s a yes?” Aiden muttered, but was confused. Perhaps that wasn’t a Pioneer, but some unfortunate traveller stuck in the middle of this infested region.

Just downright creepy overall.

Crane didn’t comment on it. Whatever reason that stranger had to be there, wouldn’t mean they intended to follow through. 

He made his mind up, grabbing for his bag and weapons. The controls for the bridge could be damaged, there could be a trap waiting there, the Dam could be a damn Volatile hive for all he knew.

But he wasn’t gonna leave it to a stranger’s goodwill to sort it out.

Who knows. The stranger might need help.

“Whether or not our mystery friend is gonna be of help, I’m heading in either way,” Crane proposed. “...Aiden-”

“You don’t have to ask,” the kid cut him short, arching his head to Olivia. “I’ll keep her safe.”

“I’ll be sure to stay out of trouble for you,” she gave a quick nod. 

Aiden smirked, taking a bow. “Lucky for you, I take my VIP duties very seriously.”

Olivia’s smile, however, softened as she turned to Crane. “You sure about going in alone, Crane? We’re not in Castor Woods anymore.”

Meaning a lot of variables could go out of the window.

They were out in the open. No safety net, no Safe Zone to return to, no plan forward.

Hell, they’ve gone beyond what was on the map of Castor Woods. Once they’d cross the bridge, they would have no way of navigating until they found Aiden’s friends to lead the way through the Ascent.

Crane nodded, firm and unwavering in his resolve. “All the more reason I go alone. If there’s something we can’t handle, then best to hightail it back to the valley.”

“This isn’t you trying to ditch us again, right?” 

Aiden meant it as a dig. But the concern was hinted in his voice. 

Crane couldn’t blame him for that. Damn kid’s been like a shadow at times.

“No.” He wouldn’t back out on his word. All three of them were leaving that valley even if he were to carry them out on his back. “I’ll go in, get the bridge down, and see if that person is ok.”

Aiden slowly exhaled but accepted it nonetheless. The conviction in Crane’s tone left little room for argument.

Because they’d have nowhere else to go if things really went south.

“If anything happens, you pull back. No coming for me,” Crane ordered.

“We’ll keep our eyes peeled.”

He got his revenge. He sacrificed everything to stop the Baron.

This was the end of this story.

Crane could keep staring at the corpse down there for all he liked. That it actually would become like those Old World movies, where the dead refused to stay dead.

A terrible, awful nightmare if that was the case.

The more he bore his gaze down at the dead mutant, the more he thought he was seeing things, tightening his brow.

Like a talon twitching.

But that was a trick of the light. Maybe it was the cold. His paranoia getting the better of him again.

And yet…

“That body isn’t gonna move, you know.”

Crane stiffened, just slightly. He couldn’t hide the tension bottling up from the whole trip before he wheeled around to the last person he expected to be at the complex.

Aiden Caldwell.

“I know that,” Crane muttered back. “...You have a habit of sneaking up on people.”

The guy shrugged his shoulders. “Been good at it for years. You just aren’t exactly that hard to sneak on.”

Crane grimaced. “So, I’m just lucky today?”

Aiden instead took a moment with a stern glance at the old man. Like he would get him talking on the spot if he looked hard enough.

“...You look a little distracted these days.”

Crane huffed a quiet “hm” at that before he glanced back at the unmovable corpse.

It wasn’t like he was trying to hide it. Olivia noticed. Everyone noticed.

“...Just got a lot on my mind,” he admitted.

Without looking back, he knew the kid was studying him for a moment longer than necessary. Anyone would ask, “what was on your mind”? And Crane would actually be fumbling over the answer.

Or dodging it.

Aiden, however, didn’t ask. Rather, he simply joined him on the sightseeing.

“Hell of a view out here,” Aiden uttered.

Really? But Crane chuckled.

If it weren’t for the Baron’s damn corpse…it would have been a nice view to observe. Clear skies, breathtaking snow-covered peaks, and lush forests stretching for miles. Something like this rarely existed anymore.

All the more, it reminded Crane that the world outside Castor Woods was a different story…

Everything he once knew was no longer the same.

“So,” Crane started, still a little guarded around Aiden. “...What’s the occasion?”

At first, he didn’t reply. The steeled sternness in his blue eyes had softened — as if readying himself to say it.

And he did.

“Everything’s ready,” Aiden said. “Just looking for some kindling to start the fire."

Right… So it was time.

It didn’t hit Crane the first time. He even held in a deep sigh before looking over to him. “Alright… Why are you here?”

The muscular, tall guy shrugged his shoulders. “You were on the way. Figured we could find some scraps of paper in this place while I check on you.”

Crane held back a grumble. That was a bad excuse.

But…the consideration in Aiden’s lie was appreciated.

“So I’m included.” He let that hang… Then furrowed his brow. “Did you run all the way here through that tunnel?”

Aiden shrugged. “I needed something to stretch my legs. Makes for good practice.”

Practice?

That was a long-ass train tunnel. Even by vehicle, it took five, maybe seven minutes for Crane to reach the end. And the bastard in front of him didn’t look winded. But he kept those inner thoughts inside.

Aiden was just someone Crane had only met weeks ago. And the one thing that kept Crane from treating Aiden like just another stranger was his connection to Spike.

He was with him from the start when they snuck into the complex to try and break Crane out.

And failed.

The result: completely changed, thanks to the Baron experimenting on him.

Because of Crane…

And yet, within the few weeks prior, Aiden adapted faster than he expected. In fact, he learned a few things about the kid. Other than his whole physique changed, Crane could tell the man — younger than him by two decades — had survived as many battles as he had.

Every scar on him told him a story Crane didn’t need to hear. Kid moved with confidence, unscathed, because he knew what he was doing.

Whatever he had faced before…perhaps paled to what happened to him here.

That resolve showed. The man before him didn’t hesitate to join the fight against the Baron and didn’t question him to go save another life.

He knew he had his back just as he did with his.

Since then, a lot of things have happened since then. Very little was ever talked about between them. But, they didn’t need words.

The understanding was already present between them.

That said, he could be a little impatient sometimes.

Aiden was already turning away from the view, his boots crunching the snow.

“Well, shouldn’t keep everyone waiting,” he started his way towards the entrance, hands in pockets. But not before he glanced back.

The old man didn’t budge.

“You coming?”

Crane inhaled the cool air deeply, lingering on the scene for another second before he pushed off the railing and followed.

It didn’t take long before he stopped in his tracks; his gaze drilling a hole at the entrance.

Just now, there was a faraway low thump. Inside.

“Did you come here alone?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Aiden replied, as if that should have been obvious. “Never asked anyone to tag along.”

The familiar, foreboding feeling rooted deep into Crane’s gut. He’s always been used to it, and never has he second-guessed his instincts. Moreover, the kid’s answer cemented his suspicion.

Seeing that in his expression, Aiden now understood the reason for that question.

They turned to the doorway.

Someone else was in the complex with them.

He glanced down at his hands, realizing he had been squeezing the knuckles in his right hand. With a tug at his glove, he straightened and rolled his right shoulder to brush the anxiety away.

Clanking sounds in the joints.

“This arm’s been needing some adjustments.”

“That’s your own fault for neglecting it again. I told you before-”

“Relax, Oz. It’s just a tune-up, not a funeral. And I have every bit of confidence that you’ll fix it right as rain.”

“He got you there.”

“Shuddap, Sammy… I swear, if they don’t show up soon, I might start talking to the trees.”

The biker chuckled. “You’re telling me. Lately, the woods’…”

He glanced around through his bike goggles. High and low. Almost tempted to slip them off for a clearer look around him.

How long had they been waiting at the meetup points? 

That only now had he noticed the difference in the air. A part of him, warning him that something was beyond the undergrowth.

Then gone before he could pin down exactly what the sounds could be.

“...Been feeling off.”

He couldn’t explain it even if he tried. But for the last couple of weeks…

It was all too still.

“Is this one of your ‘hero senses’ tinkling, Ethan?”

“He’s not wrong, though. Been noticing the infected acting weird. Like…”

“Like what?”

“They’ve gotten smarter.”

And everything fell quiet.

Too quiet.

Nobody could make a joke to shrug off what Sammy just said. Not even himself in an attempt to change topics. 

Smarter.

A word that shouldn’t be used on an infected. Because those shouldn’t have any sense of intelligence behind a pair of dead eyes. 

They drove on hunger — on sound and scent and motion. No plans, no patterns. Just the same blind instinct that had torn cities and communities apart and turned men into nothing but husks of their former selves.

There weren’t many people left who knew how everything was before the first outbreak.

That’s been the order of things for two whole decades. Nothing has changed. And there was that ironic comfort in knowing what to expect.

But lately, that comfort was starting to rot in the undergrowth.

The uneasiness inside Ethan worsened to the point of clenching his fists.

Because he had read up on this pattern before. Twenty years ago.

He slipped right out before the door slid shut, immediately making his next plan ot action.

Put as much distance as possible. Jack was the common denominator in these dreams so if he was far away from her, then maybe that could sever this link. That could work!

“A mysterious woman in a foreign country, out sightseeing. Enough to turn heads at you,” Pierre continued.

“So the ‘tourist trap’ con. Easy enough.”

Crane glanced down to catch her leaning on the side of the van, back to him as she adjusted her shoes.

Tap, tap against the pavement. Snug as a bug.

From the back, she was wearing awfully casual today. Like too clean, compared to the few times he'd seen her in sporty outfits. Here, she wore a blouse tucked into fitted jeans, accentuating her curves.

Then she straightened up and turned on her heels.

The turn caught Crane harder than he had thought. For a second, he thought that was a different lady, not Jack. 

But it was her. With light makeup and rosewood-painted lips. A chestnut brown wig in a straight lob cut over her cheekbones. A pair of aviators dangled from her V-shaped neckline while she clicked a simple gold bracelet around her slender wrist. 

And with a small designer bag to boot.

His jaw dropped. Was this…really Jack?

Damn, she looks…different.

Then Crane snapped out of it, deliberately slapping his face. Which, in hindsight, was a bad idea when using a zombie claw.

But what was he doing, ogling like that? This was a dream. The past.

Too bad that slap didn’t bring him back to reality. Jack still stood beside him, still in her captivating guise.

But the look on her face told him exactly how ready she was to dive in.

Just as she always has been in the present. The she-wolf on the prowl. 

The street where the van was parked was quiet. A bar with a rickety sign next to the door, dim outdoor lights, and a large green awning squatted on the corner. As unwelcoming as any shady pub would to a normal civilian.

But Crane recognized a few other landmarks, such as an old bus stop and a small kiosk; because they had passed by this street on the way to the highway in the real world.

The edges half scorched from that airstrike, but only to happen three years later.

The van’s side door opened again, with Yeong poking his head out.

“This pub is about fifteen minutes from the Military District. If we mess up, they’ll send more friends over within that timeframe.”

“So our window of escape is very short,” Pierre added, unfazed. 

Sounded like an added layer of challenge to Jack.

“We’ll be long gone before that ever happens,” she said confidently. “Fifteen minutes is more than enough for me to reel in what we need.”

And she was off. But slow. Methodical in her steps as she sauntered to the pub’s door.

It was very different from the Wild Dog. 

No, stop this, Crane told himself. 

If he kept on following into another dream, there was no telling what this ‘link’ could lead him into. Everything was just…wrong.

Could the virus do unspeakable things to a person’s psyche? Like tampering with it.

But as he thought about it, it might explain how he was always able to communicate with Jack without opening his mouth at times.

Or why most crooks they met on the streets never saw Crane coming when he went invisible mode. It wasn’t that an infected could go invisible, make a shadow clone or talk telepathically.

This strain could trick infected humans into seeing and hearing all that.

These ‘abilities’ reminded him too much of that last near-death fight with Mother…

All the more, this was too dangerous to continue on. For Jack’s sake.

No matter what, he couldn’t let his curiosity wander. Crane had to find a way out of this dream and wake up.

It was all in the past. Nothing this ghost could do here would make any difference.

There was nothing else he needed to learn about Suleiman…

…

Ding!

“I’m in,” Jack softly said. 

Her eyes carefully wavered to the camera pinned at one corner of the busy pub, which reeked of beer and cigarettes.

“We see you,” Yeong uttered over the comms.

They saw her, but all of them didn’t see Kyle the ghost quickly sliding into the same antechamber as Jack — a blind spot that most of anyone further in the bar. But it was said the same for them behind the partition wall.

He sighed, full of regret. But Crane was inside, and now, he had to commit to being a speculator of another show.

Right away, the ‘actress’ prepared her lines behind the curtains. 

The first cue was pulling her phone out of her bag and tapping away on a blank screen, while her eyes drifted around.

For any hint, any movement, any threat that could come her way.

As of right now, she was just a clueless tourist figuring out her bearings.

Jack pressed her phone to her ear. “So who are our marks of the day?”

“Up front. Lieutenant Colonel Murat Karaca.”

Ahead was a uniformed man finishing a glass of raki. Eyes up at the local news playing on a small, old telly.

“He’s been Suleiman’s go-between in the garrison. Moves orders off the books kind.”

“Also the Monsieur from the photo. Meaning he’s seen the Black Book,” Pierre added.

“Who’s next?” 

“Sergeant Kemal Yilmaz by the window. He’s part of Captain Murat Erdem’s squad. They handle private security details under Suleiman’s jurisdiction.”

“So Suleiman’s delivery boys,” Pierre translated the lingo.

“They’re the first ones called in whenever his convoys move around Harran.”

A few steps across the worn wooden floor, and Jack peeked around the wall to see the sergeant in question, chatting with his squad members.

“Their captain isn’t here?” she asked. 

“Nope. Still stationed. But word on the street is that Kemal’s his closest confidant. And I mean reaaal close from the logs I’ve pulled.”

“Meaning we have to sift through dirty laundry on top of the intel.”

“Not it,” Pierre quickly groaned.

“The last mark’s at the bar.”

Another two steps forward, and Jack was out of the antechamber. With barely a slow turn of her head, her gaze swept across the bar.

Most of the barstools over there were taken by more men in uniform. But one did stand out.

Because he was a towering man, even when sitting down. Just comparing his height to the others made him loom like a shadow over the crowd. And to think the army had a giant like him. 

Oddly enough, he looked familiar. Tougher, meaner, and-

Her hazel eyes widened with creeping dread, her tinted lips stretched into a wide frown.

Just as she recognized who he was, so did Crane.

But fury swelled up in his chest.

He should have known better; that he'd see that bastard in the past.

Looking alive and smug, in a military uniform too. That man. 

There was no way Crane could forget him. If he could in this dream, he’d launch right at him and strangle his neck. That monster might be responsible for Jade’s death as well!

“Supervisor Fischer. You can’t-”

“Move,” she hissed at the guard standing in her way. She didn’t care what his orders were, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out exactly who.

He was sitting in that observation room next to the interrogation rooms.

The guard stepped aside and let her through, the door slamming behind as loudly as she could throw, betraying her fury.

Her guest certainly heard it. But his attention was on the documents on the cold table. 

Page by page, line by line. Delicate, calculated, observant. Like a pathologist over a dish.

Tap, tap, his finger went as the gold sigil ring gleamed under the fluorescent lights. 

The observation room was stiff. Rigid. Besides the audio technicians at the console, two GRE operators stood so quietly, they might as well have taken a career in statues. Their task was supposed to be a babysitting job, but for some reason, it turned around into a takeover. 

The man in the clean suit had more control than any GRE member in the Center that they couldn’t say no.

Thud!

Then the door burst open. Seeing the supervisor did nothing but cement the fact that it was going to be a tiring day for the two operators. Another headache with high clearance had walked in. 

And two contentious elites in the same room were more than enough on their plates.

“You’re punctual as always,” Eveyln remarked at her guest, spiteful.

Nothing out of him, except his pen. She had never expected anything beyond even a hello.

Despite once sharing more than a surname.

“-W-We didn’t talk much.”

Evelyn heard the low tremble of a man’s voice over the comms and turned to the two-way mirror.

In the cold interrogation room was a man in orange overalls, handcuffed. Opposite to him, a GRE agent half-listened to everything he said.

“All she wanted was to know where the boxing ring was. She let me go after I told her.”

“And the prize was Antizin, right?” the agent pressed.

“Yes! That’s what I’ve been telling you! Have you been listening?!”

“Who is he?” Evelyn demanded. Nobody mentioned there was an interrogation going on.

One of the GRE operators cleared his throat. He shouldn’t have said anything, getting a shake of the head from his teammate. But one way or another, she’d find out.

“He’s a detainee from the Scanderoon Bay Prison-”

“I can see that,” she hissed at the obvious. “Now explain why he’s inside the Checkpoint.”

“He used to work under another prisoner named Alexander,” the operator wearily explained. “Seems like they’ve been stockpiling on Antizin, but there’s been no record of any drops sent into Scanderoon.”

“And you didn’t think of reporting this to me?” Evelyn had never been more frustrated. “We’re already drowning in red tape as it is!”

“Yes… But… Doctor Fischer-”

“Everyone, out. Now.”

Nobody moved at first, but orders were orders. One by one, the men filed out, headsets hitting the desks and heads down to avoid her eyes.

Chairs scraped, headsets hit the desks, and boots shuffled. One by one, the men filed out, avoiding her eyes.

Leaving the supervisor with her guest. He hadn’t looked up the entire time. 

“L-Look. I’ve told you everything. I didn’t even know she was Mad Jack.” The prisoner’s voice shook behind the two-way window. “I can leave, right? I-I’m clean! I haven’t been bitten on the way here!”

“It’s just protocol, sir. You still have a criminal record.”

“All I’ve ever done is sell knockoffs!”

“I don’t make the rules here-”

Click! Evelyn walked to the console and killed the comm feed. But she didn’t take a seat. Didn’t make eye contact. Her fists wouldn’t stop shaking.

“...Everyone’s incompetent.”

She let it out of her lips, the first wave.

“‘Control is an illusion,’ Evelyn. You said that yourself.”

Oh, now he starts talking?!

Evelyn spun to her guest. “You have a lot of nerve.”

The raging water inside of her was gushing out of the floodgates, those gates trying their best to stay shut. Because of professionalism.

But that didn’t matter with Evelyn’s neck on the line.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? About the black ops team you signed off on?!”

The man in the suit didn’t flinch. “Clearance would have taken weeks. Longer with those at the top questioning every single thing.”

“Did that also mean withholding information from the bureau?!” Eveylen’s voice cracked. “I just found out those prisoners were the ones behind the hydrodam’s shutdown!”

“I’ve read the mission debrief.” He grimaced. But turned to the next page in the report and barely looked away from it. “A minor setback-”

“We were one breach away from losing the rest of the city!”

The woman stomped about. Back and forth. Fighting for internal control. She spun back to her guest.

“You were the reason we even considered working with that manic! And now he’s running wild behind our backs!”

“Valchos has been a great asset for the longest time. Without his contributions, this organization would have never reached half the milestones it has.”

Always with a justification. Always.

She had to let out a laugh. 

“Do you ever hear yourself?” Evelyn barked. “You have convicts. Running live experiments and hijacking the Military Base in the Border.”

“He’s delivering results. Faster than any regulation would allow through the official channels.”

“By trafficking infected civilians,” she shot back. “And all for what? On some unfinished case study from the Countryside?!”

Again, she stomped about.

“That file. Do you even know what was on it?”

“Enough. The technicians managed to recover fragments before passing it on to the Lab-”

“That’s exactly the problem. Whoever sent you that file could have tampered with it. The colonel in charge wiped the database clean before he fled to the Countryside with his men!”

“Say what you want. But it wouldn’t be in our hands without Valchos’ connections. Even from a cell, he knew which strings to pull.”

“And you wonder why everyone thinks you’re sleeping with a glorified cartel kingpin,” she laughed. Spiteful.

An impressive pitch that Crane had to appreciate their tag-team dedication in sealing the deal with them. If they weren't stuck in the middle of an outbreak, he could see those two making bank.

That said, Jack's expression remained impassive.

"Gonna put that on hold for the moment." She put the brakes on their expansion plan. "…It's my cousin."

Like a drop of the pin, the mood shifted on the other end. Maybe because it was Jack showing them a vulnerable side. Maybe because it was someone like her asking for help.

Whatever the case, she wanted to involve them in this search as well.

"What do you need?" Ender asked without hesitation.

"Anything. Whatever you get from the locals about his last known location."

"We can do that," Riza replied without her usual spunkiness.

"Good. There's a Safe Zone near the Docks. Head there and tell a guy named Spike you know me."

"Sounds reasonable. We'll get ourselves situated and get people yapping," Ender said.

"Don't get too comfortable, though. Place doesn't welcome infected folks."

Two groans followed out of the comms. "You gotta be kidding me," Riza whined.

"Their rules. They're already on edge as it is."

"We'll be on our best behavior then. Happy customers mean loose tongue."

"Also, got in touch with Talo's bird. His group's somewhere on the Border."

"So the search party got bigger," Ender said. "Got it."

"More Ravens on this, the better our chances in finding him," Jack added, hopeful. "We might narrow it down faster and without any distractions in the way."

"Uh…"

The girl on the other end started wary, almost bracing herself for some reason.

"There's…one more thing."

"If it's nothing urgent, I'm sure you two can handle it on your own."

The quickest and smoothest response Crane ever saw out of a person, even Jack herself, and it was justified. Every second counted in their search for Brecken.

"Sure!" And that reply came out far too fast from Riza. "Family's more important right now-"

"Tell her. Or I will," Ender warned. Calmly.

"Tell me what?"

Dead air. Crane could particularly hear the look Ender was giving.

"...Alright, fine!" Riza burst out. "But you don't understand! They could have eaten her if I didn't!"

Ok. Sounded like she picked up a person from being pork chops to the infected. The following, however, didn't sound like it was human.

"And she gave me the biggest, saddest eyes! I couldn't leave her out there. You saw it yourself, Ender!"

"I did. I also saw how capable she was fending herself on the streets," Ender countered.

"But…puppy dog eyes."

"What did you bring?" Jack moaned. Out with it. Now.

"Riza picked up a stray with some GPS collar. Name's Melek."

"Melek?" Crane repeated, out of surprise. The dog from the Animal Shelter? "You brought her here?"

Jack massaged her temple as if she had a mild headache. Like seeing a teacher catching two students bringing home a stray in the middle of a fire drill.

Sure, any normal person would say a missing animal wasn't the priority. But Crane understood the sentiment.

"In our defense, it was the other way around," Ender explained. "She's the one who led us to the water gate. I did think it was odd how she was acting the whole trip, but here we are. Next thing we knew, she suddenly took off."

"So you're telling me she followed us all the way to Harran," Crane muttered. "Damn."

Did this dog have some German Shepherd in her or something?

Jack heaved a heavy sigh. "If we see her, I'll let you both know."

"We'll keep in touch," Ender said, ending their talk.

As the comms clicked off, Jack took a long breath, rubbing the back of her neck. Distractions, distractions, distractions.

Came with the territory. The difference between before the outbreak and now: the stakes became higher. The system she had put for herself for the longest time? She had to tinker with it now and then for a feral world. Adapt to keep some of the pieces together.

A job was a job, but even that could lose its weight.

"So."

That snapped her out of her thoughts. Two steps forward, to the edge of the rooftop, Freakazoid raised a claw over his brow like a sailor scanning the horizon. Just missing the spyglass.

"We can start with the Safe Zones. Work our way towards the Viaduct," he suggested.

He glanced at Jack with reassuring silver-blue eyes.

"Chances are someone's seen your cousin or his group. Maybe a dog if we're lucky."

It surprised her.

Or maybe it shouldn't. While not all of Freakazoid's secrets about his human past were laid bare, there was always an absolute truth in his actions. That he had dealt with pressure before and knew how to maneuver around it.

Adapt to keep some pieces together.

Jack smiled softly. Appreciatively.

"For a guy who's worked as a lone wolf," she began, eyeing him sidelong, "You have a fascinating way of holding it together when it counts."

He shrugged, as if it wasn't a big deal. "Someone's gotta keep the wheels going."

Again, those eyes on her. Always that little hint; just making sure Jack didn't just up and vanish because she spiraled out of control. And it wasn't out of full obligation or because Asem asked him to keep an eye.

Hence, it made her wonder about those people he had lost from this outbreak, to have that tiny protective edge in him.

"A certain someone told me that she was my backup. Always… Only fair I do the same back," Freakazoid said.

That she did, that she did.

"I did say I was a risk-taker," Jack droned.

"Oh. So only now you're gonna bring that up?" he rebuffed, amused.

"And you're any better, Mr. Skydiver?" she countered back, her smirk wider.

He huffed a soft chuckle. "Comes with the territory."