Shadows of a Dying Light

Chapter 9

Some call them Volatiles. Others call them Nightmares. Whatever they're called, they will only have one objective on their rotten brains; Kill to eat.

And this was the mentality for all citizens of Harran. No one had ever heard of any sort of infected that did anything else besides that.

And it was a big surprise to many when thugs from The Garrison began spreading rumors of a Volatile that attacked the area. It didn't catch anyone's attention at first, but once they mentioned that the same creature used a pistol, it hooked people to hear more. Then, these thugs had told about the creature stealing supplies from the Airdrop crates.

People had started to become fearful. They would never even want to try going out during the night. Runners from The Tower almost never went out, only the bravest ones willing to do so. Now, no one had mustered up the courage to even guard the entrance. Anyone that was on the first floor had stayed, but they kept a fair amount of flares on them, in case something did decide to stumble in.

This one Volatile also sparked many theories. Some had speculated that the Volatiles may have tampered with some chemicals inside the sewers, and now they began to mutate. Others said that perhaps the creatures were starting to gain back their basic cognitive thoughts.

And only a small few had theorized the craziest thing, yet they were the only ones that were correct. These few had talked about Kyle Crane, and that perhaps he was the Volatile that was being talked about throughout the city. Everyone shrugged this particular theory off because many had believed the man to be strong enough to not become a Volatile. People still thought he was in the Countryside, where he was supposed to find a cure.

No one knew the truth. The only things they had as proof of this Volatile existing were the rumors that the thugs had spread, and a few people actually spotting the Volatile. In the span of only two days, all of Harran already knew about this Volatile.

And only one particular man was growing an idea that would perhaps determine the true fate of this Volatile.

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"No, please! Let me go!" The man yelled in desperation, his vision blocked by a bandana. He was currently being held hostage by a few thugs, whom awaited commands from their leader.

"We're not letting you go! We are waiting for a command from our boss."

"Please don't kill me!"

"We're not..." The same thug said. "Well, unless we get confirmation."

The thugs stood around, already beginning to grow tired of waiting around, the only thing they could hear was the man crying and yelling for help. It began irritating them, but if they defied the boss and killed him, their lives would most likely be taken as well.

"He's taking too long to respond." Another thug responded. "What if we just kill him and say that a mob of zombies attacked us and killed him?"

"No, we don't go against his orders. He needs people, but he never specified why."

"Well, he can find others. What's one person going to impact?"

"I don't know, but he can use them to his advantage." The first thug said. "He took us in awhile after Rais died. If anything, he's better than that dead fucker."

"You are right about that." The second thug admitted. "Rais was just an asshole to us. He, on the other hand, actually cares about what happens to everything he owns or has. When that Volatile took our supplies, He was furious. He was also mad that three men died."

The thugs chattered on, talking about their boss. The man that was tied up tuned in on this, but he asked himself why they only referred to their leader as "He" or "Boss".