Wake of the Dead | Three

Chapter Sixty-One | Jasper

"I've got this one this time." Raven said with a determined smile. Jasper stood by and watched as the younger man ran forward with his bat and swung it hard into the biter's skull. The creature stumbled and fell to the ground, where the boy slammed his weapon down on top of its head. He couldn't help but smile when Raven delivered a swift kick to the biter's head just for safe measure, then trotted back over to the rest of the patrol with a very pleased expression on his face. "Told you I could do it."

"Never thought you couldn't." Jasper ruffled Raven's hair affectionately. The kid might jumpier than a toad, but he's got the spirit. He'll learn. We'll just have to see if he can fight more than one at a time. He hadn't doubted the young man's ability to fight off a single biter, but several? That was different story. If there had been more than one, he would have held the boy back. They'd already lost a young group member once before, that one had been a hard blow. Even if he didn't know Dominick well, even if his death had been much more than a year ago, it still hurt to think about. Every once and a while, he could still see the grief in Killian's eyes when he spoke about the other man--one who would have no doubt been an excellent friend, hunter and group member.

A reassuring pat on the back was just what Jasper needed, but it came in the form of somebody he didn't expect, Casimir. When their eyes met they both knew, they'd been thinking the same thing. Raven can't ever replace Dominick, but we can do right by him what we did wrong by Dominick. He still felt guilty, ridiculous as it was, for the death of the young hunter. Maybe if he'd insisted on going to that raid, maybe if he'd told Tom not to let Dominick go or if he'd let the others know to keep an eye out for him. He knew there was nothing he could do, nothing he could have ever done. He couldn't imagine the guilt Killian felt, even though it wasn't his fault either. Nobody could have expected Dominick out of all people--perhaps the most innocent and well-liked person in the whole group--to be the victim of a biter's undying hunger.

"Raven," Casimir said warily, "hey, why don't you stick next to me for the rest of the patrol?" He cast a quick glance towards Jasper one more time, so fast that he wondered if he'd imagined it. Did Casimir feel that guilt too, wondering if he could have saved Dominick from that cruel, painful death? He swallowed back a hard lump that had gathered in his throat, making it hard to breathe without allowing his breath to shudder. Darren took Casimir's place when the hunter fell back with his new apprentice, murmuring something to the younger man with a gentle but constructive tone.

The center was eerily silent, but every other corner always held one or two biters. All Jasper knew was if there was one or two, there were bound to much, much more nearby. When they started grouping up into small pairs, they had to have come from somewhere--from a herd or worse, a hoard. White tiles beneath their feet were now stained with dirt, dust and occasionally blood. The plain ceiling had a spray of red across it at one point, the group had been left to ponder what the hell must have happened for blood to get on the roof. There were many stores on either side of the main walkway, it was more like a small mall than a shopping center. So far they'd only gathered some clothes, basic care products and a few measly granola bars left under one of the registers.

Darren began, "I feel like there should be music playing, you know? It's too quiet." You've got that right. It's way too damn quiet. Something's bound to happen with our luck, I just know it. He tightened his grip on the pack he was carrying. Even with a heavy injury, if he could walk, he was determined to carry his own things regardless of what his groupmates said or offered. "Come on now, I'm getting the creeps, somebody keep a conversation going." Darren huffed.

For once, Jasper wasn't sure what to say. Something about the mall in particular made him extremely uncomfortable, not because it was a mall, but because there was nobody there. Instead of happy faces, delinquent teenagers hanging out around a tattoo shop, mothers power-walking and dragging their children along or confused fathers accompanying their daughters looking for new clothes, there was...nothing. Once a place bustling with activity and the voices of living people, maybe even a service dog or two, it was all gone. The litter of old flyers and newspapers, magazines or books made things worse. All forgotten relics of the world they used to know, the one he used to love, trained and fought to protect. It was all gone.