Dead Frontier/Issue 94

This is Issue #94 of Dead Frontier by Walkerbait22, titled ''Crazy. ''This is the fourth issue in Volume 16.

1 Month Later
“It’s official. We’re doin’ it,” Nico says. He sits in his office, at his desk, with a yawning Kendra sitting across from him. "I got in contact with Griffin, and he says he okay with bringing some people over. So we can strategize and all that. Take her down for good."

"How many people?" Kendra asks.

"Eh...about fifty?"

"Plus our 60."

"That's right. Her last attack was the last straw; I'm not taking this shit anymore, I'm not," Nico says, and his tone and expression suddenly turn solemn. "Frankie finally got out of bed yesterday. Took four fucking weeks."

"But she's walking again. That's good. That's really good, Nico."

"Yeah, it's fan-fucking-tastic. Except it'd be a whole lot better if she didn't get shot in the first place."

Kendra takes a deep breath, remembering clearly the attack nearly a month ago. Nico's face when he revealed to her his daughter had been shot in the back while she was playing in the snow by some of Roxie's people. How it could have easily been Ivy, since she was playing right there with her. And the six other people--one child included--that didn't make it.

"Nothing like that's gonna happen again," Kendra assures him.

"That means...you're on board with them coming over?"

"I'm on board. A hundred percent."

Griffin stands behind the podium in the auditorium, going over in detail the plan and goals for the Lane Tech visit. "I'm gonna need about fifty of you. No less than that. I've got the paper right here on the podium, and you can come sign up." A line begins to form, but Cole, still believing that an attack still isn't completely necessary, heads for the exit. Griffin notices this, and expected it, so he rushes from the podium and through crowds of people to reach him.

"Cole, man, where are you going?" Griffin asks.

"Getting some food," Cole says, stopping and turning to him.

"But the sign up sheet's back there," Griffin says with a grin, pointing behind him with his thumb.

"I wasn't planning on going."

Griffin sighs and steps forward, then putting his hands on Cole's shoulders. "Okay, look. I know you're pretty against this fighting stuff, but you're friends told me you were just looking for a better alternative. This is it. We've got back up from Lane, they've got weapons, most of their population has been training for this...we're prepared this time. Really prepared. And this is just a trip, anyway. We get to meet them, you get to see their combat skills, they get to see ours...you can always change your mind."

"And why do you want me to go so badly?"

"We need as many capable people as possible for this. And you've got some fight in you. What do you say?"

Cole sits alone at the cafeteria counter, barely touching the food Joe provided for him earlier. It's just bland rice and frozen vegetables, with a glass of water. He eventually sighs and drops his spoon, refusing to eat any more. Just when he's about to get up, someone sits on the stool next to him.

"Hey," he says as Billie sits, and he sits back down, too, setting his plate back on the countertop.

"You actually signed up," she says.

"Yeah. I did. Griffin persauded me, I guess. We'd have at least 120 people working together, Lane is loaded...I think we actually have a chance with this plan. And it doesn't hurt to get out of this fucking hotel every once and a while."

Absentmindedly, he takes a glance to his left, where Lucy sits with a group of people at a table at the far end of the cafeteria, laughing. He not only wants to leave the hotel, but to escape the awkwardness of having to see her everyday and not being on the friendliest of terms.

"She's going, too," Billie says.

"Really?" Cole asks, genuinely surprised. He could think of many others more equipped than Lucy, combat-wise, to attend.

"Griffin requested it. Since she's known about Roxie longer than anybody, he wants her to talk to Nico," Billie explains. He just sighs and picks up his spoon, pushing his food around. Billie searches for any way to lift his spirits, so she says, "She's still crazy about you, you know."

"Uh huh. And how would you know that?"

"Because I actually talked to her. Yeah, I know, surprising."

"Oh...what'd she say?" he asks, feigning disinterest.

"She said...she wishes you were the guy you were when she first met you."

Cole scoffs. "Whatever."

"Blow it off all you want, but she's right. Everyone wishes that, because we all really miss you, Cole."

"Just stop, please," he says harshly, looking down at his plate. "You don't get it. You really don't."

"No, listen. I do. Because I've known you for almost a year, and I know who you are. I've seen you at your worst, and you always seem to bounce back from it. But now...I don't know."

"Billie, you don't understand all the pain I've caused the people here. Maybe that's why I feel a little shitty, alright?"

Billie furrows her eyebrows together in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

He contemplates continuing on, but he does: "...This whole past month I've been, just, ripping at myself because...you remember when Marsh was here. And when I went to go kill him, Hector was there. Marsh had stabbed him, and I could've left him there to bleed out. Or even shot him. I had the gun right there, pointed at him, and it wouldn't have even taken a second to pull the trigger.

"But I didn't; I actually helped him up and took him to the infirmary. I saved his life. And then he goes and...and he fucks everything up. I gave him another chance, and he goes and fucks us over. Rats us out to Roxie, getting twenty people killed, and then murders Alexander...You know I can barely look Lucy in the face now? Because maybe she doesn't know I could've prevented all this, but I do. And I ruined her life, and Devon's, and everyone else who lost someone in that attack. I hurt so many people by just...not getting over whatever the hell I was scared of and killing him. And I can't...let it go."

Billie appears the be on the verge of tears by the time he finishes; he looks down at the countertop, his head held in his hands in shame. "Do you really think I don't know how that feels?" she asks. Surprised, he turns his head to her, and she nods. "Because I do."

Cole doesn't know what she could be talking about, but before she even speaks he can tell she's hurting inside. "What is it?"

She sighs, and looks down at her hands. "For the longest time, Cole, I felt so guilty about everything that happened when...Hannah and Finn died." She has to pause just after saying their names and compose herself, and the memories of that day immediately gives Cole an all-too-familiar gut wrenching feeling. Billie feels it, too, and she finally decides this is the time to tell him what she's been holding in.

"What I never told you was that I tried to help Finn first. When Finn was bit she was still up, but I knew she was hungover from drinking the night before and she could barely stand but I left her to fight for herself anyway because...I don't know, because he was my first priority and I thought I could save him. And she couldn't do it. Of course she couldn't defend herself, and I could've helped her but I didn't and then she got bit and everything was just so...fucked up...And you know I couldn't even put her down because I'm a fucking coward. I could have, I had the chance, but I couldn't build up the strength to just do it. And I'm so sorry." She sniffles, wipes a few tears from her face with her sleeve. She waits for him to say something--anything--but all that happens are a few tears falling from his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she repeats again, softly. "I think about it a lot, more than I probably should, and I can't get over how much that hurt you. Knowing she turned like that, and that I could've saved her and she would still be here. And I know it's my fault that she isn't."

Cole doesn't know what to say. There's no sufficient response for something like this. She waits in silence, nearly falling apart each second she sits without a response.

"Cole--" she starts.

"It's okay," he says simply, two words that only bring on more tears from her. She pulls him into a tight hug, burying her face into his shoulder, not holding back any of her crying.

"I'm so sorry, for everything," she manages to choke out.

"It's okay," he repeats, swallowing afterward in a failed attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat. "None of that matters anymore."

"It does," she disagrees. "And I'm sorry. But no one blames you, Cole. We just want you back."

Two days later, the morning they’re set to leave for Lane Tech, Cole waits for the last of the stragglers to gather any belongings they need to take. He leans against the wall nearest to the lobby doors when Jake, still in his pajamas, jogs up to him. “G-good I caught you,” Jake says.

“Yeah, we’re leaving soon,” Cole says. “What’s up?”

“I could’ve waited ‘til y-you came back, but I w-wanted to show you th-this. I finished it y-y-yesterday.” Jake hands him a small book, crossing his arms as Cole flips through it. “It’s the comic book I w-was working on.”

“Oh, yeah,” Cole says, extremely impressed. “These drawings are awesome. Wow.”

“Thanks. I sh-showed Billie and Adam yesterday. Billie said th-they were amazing,” Jake says, a proud grin on his face.

Cole looks up from the book and grins at him: “Okay, she’s dating Luke and she’s 19. I thought you would get over her by now.”

“No. Never. She even read it twice.”

“Congrats. Are you planning your proposal already?”

“Yes.”

Cole laughs and shakes his head at him. “Good luck with that,” he says, reaching behind him to grab his backpack. “I’ll read it on the way to Lane.” He puts in his pack, and Jake cringes.

“Shit, don’t m-mess it up,” Jake says. “It’s my only copy so far.”

“I won’t,” Cole promises, and, finally, Griffin begins to round everyone up.

“Alright, see you later, man.” Cole turns to the doors, but Jake stops him.

“Wait,” Jake says. “Just wanted to say thanks for doing this.”

“What?”

“Going to Lane. B-being a part of the attack. I--I don’t want her to get away w-with killing my m-mom like that, and the more people th-that go, the better chance we h-h-have of getting rid of her, pretty much. Even th-though I know you kinda don’t wanna go. But thanks anyway.”

Cole is finally reminded of something that hasn’t crossed his mind in a long time: Jake seeing his own mother shot in cold blood, a smile of the face of her murderer. An image this kid will probably never get out of his head, and here Cole is, defending the idea of not killing her. “I’ll see you in a few days, Jake,” Cole says with a nod, not wanting to get Jake’s hopes up that they’ll eventually be rid of Roxie for good. Jake just waves, a disappointed expression his face, as Cole exits through the front doors with the others.

Lane Tech gives the Hyatt a warm welcome; they’ve set up tables in the large cafeteria for everyone to sit as Nico speaks to them. All that’s served are a few glasses of water for each person, given their effort to conserve as many supplies as they can.

Nico stands among the 100-plus people, a brown hat covering his head, his eyes plagued with sleeplessness. “I’m gonna have some people show you where you’ll be sleeping for the next few days. And, I know, it’s early; I’ll cut you some slack and we’ll do all that combat and fighting evaluations in a few hours. Around 3:00. Get settled in first. I’ll be back to meet all of you, but I’ve gotta take care of some business first.” He forces a smile and a wave to everyone before exiting briskly out the cafeteria doors.

People begin choosing different paths: chatting, heading to their rooms, getting their things unpacked. Chloe searches around the abundance of faces for one single person. It takes her a few minutes to find that person, but eventually, she calls out a single name: “Mae!”

Mae turns at the mention of her name, and smiles out Chloe, pushing through people to get to her. “You came,” Mae says.

“Yeah. Only because I really needed to talk to you. Didn't really get to last time,” Chloe says.

“Don’t I feel special?” Mae says with a smile. “Come on, there’s a free table over there.”

They situate themselves, getting through the pleasantries, until Chloe asks the question that’s been nagging at her for months: “What happened back at the lab?” Mae wasn’t a scientist back at the lab, but Chloe remembers her face, although they rarely spoke. She also remembers hearing something about a few of girls being discovered by a fellow scientist, Mae being one of them, and they were assimilated into the facility. After assisting in breaking out the subjects from the motel, Chloe never saw Mae again. But now that she’s finally reconnected with someone from the lab, maybe she can get some closure.

“It was...a complete mess,” Mae admits. “Almost everyone left. Except a few people, my friend and that Ackerman guy--you remember him? That weirdo?”

“Yeah, I do. Unfortunately.”

“He just went absolutely crazy. He--he ended up killing my friend. I guess he knew where those two subjects were. The one that had already turned, and he fed her to them.”

“Wanda and Melody?” Chloe asks, surprised at herself for remembering their names.

“I didn’t know their names. They were an older woman and a younger one. She was Hispanic, I think.”

“And what happened then?”

“I killed them. The two subjects. It was just sick seeing them like that. And knowing Dr. Choi and Dr. Stowe did that...it still makes me sick to my stomach. You’re really a hero for breaking the rest of them out.”

“I’m nothing like that. Not even close,” Chloe says, looking down at the table. “So whatever happened to Stowe?”

“She offed herself,” Mae says.

Chloe nearly gasps, but manages not to, holding in her shock. Although what Stowe did was evil, unforgiving, immoral, she’d known her for years as a sort of role model. Aspired to be her, to have her success. She’d supported Chloe through her schooling and even gave her her first job at a prestigious lab. “Just like that? She just killed herself?”

Mae nods. “Bullet to the head. I don’t know about anyone else. Just that they all left, and I was there by myself for a while.” Chloe looks like she doesn’t want to hear anymore, and Mae looks at her sympathetically. “Were you really that close to her?”

“I considered her a friend. A good friend,” Chloe says. “I know what she did was...was just completely terrible, but it’s still hard to hear.”

''Chloe wakes suddenly to the harsh ringing of her cell phone. She forces her eyes to open against the harsh sunlight beating through her window, and then reaches to her left and grabs her phone from the night stand. Her one day of the week she’s able to sleep in, and, of course, it’s disturbed. The name ‘Eleanor Stowe’ flashes on the screen, and she answers it groggily. “...Hello?”''

“Turn on your TV, radio, anything,” Stowe demands, not even bothering to greet her.

''“What is it? Is everything okay?”''

''“Some kind of outbreak. Every channel’s covering it.”''

''Chloe rifles through her blankets for her remote and when she finally finds it, she turns on her television. Stowe was right; she doesn’t even have to change the channel, as the channel she’s on is already all over the story. A news reporter trying desperately to keep his cool stands in Chicago’s streets, a microphone held in his shaking hands. He explains the situation: a viral outbreak of some sort, cannibals roaming the streets, the death toll having sky-rocketed overnight. The police and military have been forced to shoot anyone reporting suspicious behavior.''

“Are you watching?” Stowe asks, and Chloe nearly forgot she was still on the phone in her disbelief.

“How?” is the only question she can think ask.

''“We don't know; but it’s spreading unbelievably fast. We’re guessing it’s airborne, but we haven’t come to any conclusions yet.”''

''“ ‘We’? Where are you?”''

''“A lab. It’s underground, the location is secret to everyone but the scientists and military here. And you need to be here. We’re already starting work on this.”''

“B-but--”

''“Get here as soon as possible,” Stowe says, and she rambles off the address to Chloe, repeating it only once to make sure she has it. Stowe hangs up without warning, and Chloe stays sitting up in her bed, unable to move as she stares at her television. When footage of soldiers opening fire on civilians flashes across the screen, she’s finally snapped out of her daze and leaps from her bed.''

''Quickly, she gets dressed, but doesn’t even bother to fix her hair or brush her teeth. As she exits her apartment, she pulls out her cell phone and scrolls through her contact list, trying to determine the fates of anyone she can as she looks for her car on the hectic street. Several other people are on their phones also, some crying and screaming, and others roaming around mindlessly, holding bleeding wounds. Chloe dials the numbers of her mother, her brother, her sister, any of friends, but not a single person answers.''

''She can feel her anxiety finally subsiding as she finally reaches her car, managing at this point to avoid any of the frantic, sick people on the street. But as she opens the driver’s side door, she sees someone stumbling toward her, wincing and clutching his side. His skin is taking on a grey tinge, and he’s glaring right at her.''

''“Oh, no, no, no. Go away, just go away,” she mutters to herself as she settles herself in the seat. She puts the keys into the ignition just as the man slams himself against her window, pressing his face to the glass.''

''“Oh--oh, God, you’re not sick,” he says. He looks to be in about his mid thirties, but in his condition, he could pass for nearly twenty years older. “I need--I need a car. I need to get to a hospital. One of those people, they bit me, and I feel--I’m so sick. Please, lady.”''

''He’s nearly in tears--she can’t tell if they're tears of pain or hopelessness--but she forces herself to look away from him and out the windshield. “I--I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” she calls to him. “I really need to go, I can’t help you.”''

''“But you have a fucking car! Please! Oh, my God, there’s more of them...”''

''Chloe looks through her rearview mirror and a few of the odd, infected people walk in a pack, straight down the street and toward her car. The man begins to punch at her window in his desperation, and Chloe looks him in the eye one last time.''

''“Open--the door!” he screams, now pulling on the door handle. She can’t take it anymore, and she smashes down the gas pedal, her tires screeching as she pulls away. He manages to kick her car bumper, and tries to chase her down. “You fucking bitch!” His strength is depleting rapidly, and he ends up collapsing onto the street, coughing up copious amounts of blood. Chloe forces herself to stop looking back at him and drives on, dodging as many of the infected people as she can. She repeats the lab’s address in her head as a way to forget that man’s face, his pleading, but she can’t.''

Roxie sits back in her living room chair, Walter, Sterling, and Savannah sitting on a couch in front of her. They look nervous, and she looks completely unimpressed. “What is this? Some kind of intervention?” Roxie asks.

Walter clears his throat and decides to speak first: “No...but we think it’s about time we talk to you about some things, Rox.”

“I’m not sitting here all day,” she says, her voice taking on an irritated edge. She impatiently taps her fingertips on the chair’s armrest.

Walter, Sterling, and Savannah look between each other, neither wanting to be the one to get on her bad side. Sterling just shrugs, and Walter stares down at the ground; Savannah sighs at their cowardice and looks toward Roxie.

“We don’t feel we’re ready for an attack,” Savannah says bluntly. Roxie raises her eyebrows and opens her mouth to talk, but Savannah cuts her off. “Before you say anything, realize that our numbers compared to the Hyatt’s are way too small. And with our last attack on Lane being pretty much a failure...it’s probably not the best choice.”

Roxie nearly scoffs in disbelief at this sort of disrespect coming from someone she’s protected for months. But she just leans forward, staring Savannah in the eye. “You really think so?” Roxie asks, and Savannah nods nervously. “Okay. Walter, Sterling, what do you think? You agree with what she’s saying?”

“Uh...” Sterling says, scratching his head. “She’s got a point.”

“Really?” She looks to Walter for a response, and he nods, too. Her expression is pure rage, but underneath, there’s the tiniest bit of hurt. “This is nice. Really nice. The three people I’ve been with the longest, and you don’t even trust me. I’ve kept you alive this long. Almost a year. And now you want to turn against me?”

“Don’t make this about us,” Savannah blurts out, and she realizes she’s too far in to stop now. “This is about you. You’ve dug yourself into too deep a hole with this hotel shit, and now you don’t know what to do.”

“Excuse me?” Roxie says, standing from her chair. Savannah does the same, and she even surprises herself when she realizes she’s able to stare down Roxie, unflinching.

“Savannah, you better sit down--” Sterling warns.

“No, let her,” Roxie says.

“We’re just thinking about everyone here, Roxie, and you, and we don’t want you to mess it up,” Savannah says. She initially thought this was a good idea, possibly talking some sense into Roxie, but she regrets ever even trying when Roxie reaches to her side and retrieves her pistol. Pointing the barrel straight at Savannah’s forehead.

Sterling hops from his seat immediately and attempts to stand between them.

“Alright, we’ll go, Roxie. If that’s what you want,” he suggests.

“Sit down,” Roxie orders, waving her gun toward the couch. She gives him a warning look, but he still decides not to follow her demands.

“Savannah, let’s go--” he begins, reaching his arm out to her, but Roxie fixes her aim on his leg and fires. The bullet hits his knee and he screams out in pain before falling to the floor, clutching his leg. Walter is petrified in the same position on the couch, the shaking of his hands the only movement he makes. Roxie glances at him, practically daring him to try and intervene. When he doesn’t, she returns her gaze to Savannah.

“Killing me isn’t doing you any favors. You need all the people you can get,” Savannah says, her voice shaking.

“I don’t care, because I’m tired of you,” Roxie says. Walter sees her finger press down on the trigger and he snaps his eyes shut, the sound of the gunshot rattling his ears. When he opens his eyes, he sees Savannah with a bullet in her face, writhing on the ground in silent agony. Sterling, his bleeding knee still in his grasp, crawls away, gasping in shock.

Roxie locks eyes with Walter, his eyes ready to overflow with tears, and she steps over Savannah, glaring at her with disgust as she does so. She hands him the pistol, and he takes it with trembling hands.

“Wh--what...” he stammers.

“Shoot her for me. Or you can watch her suffer like that for a while,” Roxie says with a passive shrug. “Doesn’t matter to me.” She doesn’t let him respond to her offer and walks past the couch and to the front door, grabbing her coat on the way out. As she walks, she soon hears a gunshot emanate from the cabin.