(Quintiles 29, 59 / 7:24PM)
(David, Jenny, Jerry, and Loraine)
(David) Keep pushing through. Don’t fall behind.
(Jerry) I could try harder if the air wasn’t this thick with smoke.
The industrial side of the city wasn’t the most eye candy in terms of what lies in Lagefor.
For one, many of the industrial buildings were littered with rust, despite the doors having locks and clean glass windows. This was followed by the amount of black smoke around the district, making this part of Lagefor hard to breathe in.
(Jerry) No wonder Boris always had an inhaler with him. You think he would’ve chosen a building more farther away from here, maybe near the military complex? I sometimes have difficulty breathing in the main building. The smoke from the industrial side can be smelled from out my window…
(David) It’s not as simple as it looks.
Continuing to run, David turned his head towards Jerry, his eyes narrowing at him. Jerry rolled his eyes, his body flowing with the motion of running.
(David) Did Boris ever tell you his background?
(Jerry) No. He only told me that he grew up in Lagefor.
(David) Well, despite Boris being formal and clean, he wasn’t raised on a silver spoon.
David and Jenny’s legs continued to remain the same as their chests moved up and down in a normal motion. For Jerry, his face started to sweat, and his breathing increased the more he ran.
But Loraine's whole body was drenched with her sweat, her legs almost dragging onto the floor as her arms were flailing like a malfunctioning robot.
(David) First, let me just give Loraine a piggyback.
Slowing down, he extended his arms and hands back, his body crouching softly as he turned his head towards the exhausted girl.
Loraine pushed her right leg off the ground with all of her strength, her stomach tightening as she used most of her core strength. Rapidly, her speed made way for David’s back, extending her arms and hands outwards as her body made contact with him, her breathing decreasing.
Wrapping her arms around David’s lower neck, Loraine shut her eyes as she began taking a nap on his back.
(David) Alright back to Boris.
David turned his head towards the other two that were running with him, his chest heaving lightly as his legs continued to push themselves onward.
(David) He was raised by only his mom, a child born out of a one-night stand. With no place to go, his mother found only one suitable housing for her and Boris’s needs…
David looked around the buildings upon buildings of the industrial center, with multiple sightings of industrial camps in little tucked-away places.
Jerry couldn’t find any small industrial camps with his eyes, nor did Jenny too. Yet despite this, Jerry turned his head towards the back of David’s head, his eyes slightly closed.
(Jerry) So he grew up here in this filth? Damn, never expected a man like him to rise from this. How long did he live here?
(David) Until he went to college, even when his mom died when he was 13 or 14.
Both Jenny and Jerry’s eyes widened, angling their heads away as their breaths slightly shook. Having their hands forming into small fists, Jerry managed to squeeze out his palms, creating a squishy noise with his right thumb.
(Jerry) What? So how was he able to make it?
(David) Boris worked in those industrial factories for many of his teen years, and since he always had a chubby body, followed by the pay being less for teens, he had to work the same hours as an adult would while going to school too…
(Jerry) Jesus…
David started to gag, his throat coughing in many black smoke around the area, his lungs already parching from the horrible air. Breathing in and out slowly, he cleared his throat, his eyes containing water as the air was too much for him.
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(David) The amount of smoke and dangerous air he was breathing in through all his early years managed to surprise all of his doctors, with some saying that he shouldn’t be living.
(Jenny) Poor Boris…
(David) So that’s why we’re getting him back. If he stays there too long, who knows how many chemicals his little black lungs will take?
______________________________________________________________________________
(Quintiles 29, 59 / 7:48PM)
(Military Man#1) Where’s our backup!?
(Military Man #2) They’re too busy defending the complex from the zompires!
(Military Man#1) Shit! I guess it’s just us huh… Marines!
Outside of an industrial building filled with rust on the outside, a group of marines aimed towards the front door, their assault rifles and submachine guns on standby as their ears perked up.
A man in the center of the squad, put his right arm high in the air, causing other soldiers to lock their eyes onto the signaling man.
(Military Man#1) Get ready to buckle up, cause we’re going in!
All of the soldiers in the group looked at each other with their faces drooped down, their hands clenching the grips of their guns as their legs began to wobble. Noticing that their leader was walking slowly towards the door, with his rifle on guard, the rest of the group quickly followed suit.
The leader put his body weight on the front of the door steadily, leaning his back to the rusted door, he turned his head to his soldiers who placed their backs to the door as well, yet…
(Military Man#3) Sergeant. Permission to speak sir?
(Military Man#1) Go ahead Mclovin.
(Private Mclovin) Will we die fighting to get those hostages, sir?
The leader’s eyes softened as his thumb rubbed the cartridge of the gun. Seeing his soldier shaking as sweat started to pour out of his forehead, the leader cleared his throat as he placed his left hand on the door.
(Military Man#1) Nobody’s dying unless I order you to. Your top priority is the hostages then your lives. Keep yourselves safe men, but remember…
Taking his back off the rusted door, the leader gently placed his right foot on the door, his leather hard boot firmly tightening, his right leg expanding with a heavyweight of strength. Having both of his hands steady on his gun, the leader pushed with his right leg.
(Military Man #1) A soldier’s job is to protect the weak.
The door to the front quickly opened, with many of the leader’s soldiers looking in awe as their faces slightly opened at the showcase of strength.
But that was overlapped by the hostages in the back of the building, all tied up and bound. With their eyes noticing the soldiers, the leader raised his arm high, making a hard fist with his right hand as he placed his gun on his left.
(Military Man#1) Give em hell boys—
(David) What seems to be the problem, son?
Hearing a deep voice from behind, the leader quickly turned around, his arms holding his assault rifle as he quickly pointed it towards the man dressed in all black. The rest of the soldiers turned their gaze toward the commotion, their eyes widened as they quickly pointed their guns toward the others.
Luckily, David and the others didn’t flinch or make any sudden movements, their eyes calmly seeing the many soldiers with their eyes wide open and their fingers already on the trigger.
(Military Man#1) This is a rescue operation! Get out before—
(David) Here’s some ID.
Already having the ID in hand, David extended his right hand towards the leader, slowly and carefully to not make any soldier flinch. The leader, seeing a badge and picture on David’s right hand, slowly walked and snatched it away.
Upon having the badge in his hand, the badge had a platinum lining metal, with the shape being that of a foreign helmet. The foreign helmet appeared to be a motorcycle helmet but with a visor in the center. Seeing the badge, or rather the symbol, the leader took many steps back as he quickly looked toward David.
(Military Man#1) You’re a… You’re…
(David) I get that a lot, son. Now, is there anything that I can do to help?
The leader quickly gestured his right hand slowly, his left hand holding the grip of the rifle. With his right hand tightened in a fist, the rest of the soldiers casually holstered their guns down, looking toward each other as they silently stared.
(Military Man#1) We were about to rush in, sir, we uncovered two unidentified cases of zompires talking and acting human, and we took the liberty to try to get them back.
(David) Have you heard of blessings, son?
(Military Man#1) Yes sir.
(David) Unfortunately, those zompires have them, so killing them with normal weapons is going to be a hassle unless you have Togo.
The leader looked downwards as he nodded, his breathing haggard as he put his right hand on his chest. With his hand on his chest, he moved it up to where he grabbed the collar of his khaki brown military jacket, his hands softly trembling.
(Military Man#1) So how should we propose saving them, sir?
(David) It’s quite simple. Me and the other three are going to take them head-on. You and your men get the hostages out quickly and efficiently. Any questions?
(Military Man#1) None!
(David) Alright. You three, follow me.
With David in the front, he extended his right hand towards the back of them, flinging up his fingers twice. Jerry, Jenny, and Loraine saw this with their eyes opened wide, their legs moving forward as David pulled out his pistol from his jacket.
Entering inside the building, they took note of the air pungent with humidity and tar, their noses molested with the stench of rotting flesh and body odor.
(David’s thoughts) Oh … oh …
David in particular, clenched his chest as he put his right hand onto his stomach, his throat expanding with a particular liquid.
As he was about to open his mouth, he jerked his head upwards to force his throat to swallow. His forehead was coated with soupy sweat, followed by his body odor ever present as Loraine sniffed David’s back.
(Loraine’s thoughts) Is he nervous?
(David) Alright. Loraine, you’re with me. Jerry and Jenny, take that other lich on the left.
With the two duos reaching towards the two liches from both sides, Jerry and Jenny saw a girl, her body frail and her skin pale.
(Jerry’s thoughts) Who is this freak? She looks a lot like someone I know…
The other duo reached towards a frail man, his hands gently and firmly holding Boris.
(Pedro) I guess you’re a bigshot huh? Let’s put that to the test, shall we?