Chapter 23

Aaron walked through the forest with his hood on and his head down. He'd been walking for a couple of minutes already and he reached a clearing in the Bowland Fells, a deserted cottage standing out among the trees. The unfinished top of Matheson hovered above the treetops in the distance, the steel beams rising up like antennas.


"There's no place like home," Aaron said, staring at the tower from afar. "Especially when everyone in your home wants to kill you."


He approached the front door of the cottage. He glared through the window but was unable to see through the murky glass. Curiosity got the best of him and he kicked open the door.


He glanced around the room once he was inside. Even though it was barely the afternoon, hardly any sunlight entered the house, leaving most of the room shrouded in shadow. The furniture was stationed around the room in a surprisingly organized manner, as many other buildings Aaron had explored were messy and full of destroyed fixtures. Plates and utensils decorated the tabletop, gathering dust like the rest of the house. A flatscreen TV hung above an ash-covered fireplace and several photos of the family who used to live in the house lined the shelf above it.


"Frozen in time," Aaron whispered.


He walked into a bedroom, one belonging to a child. A bed stood in the corner of the room with the sheets lazily dangling off the edge, and movie and video game posters were plastered on the wall. A dresser was placed opposite of the bed, with a mirror and multiple rugby trophies on top. Aaron gazed into the eyes of the soon-to-be-Deadman in the mirror.


Thanks to Bloodletter, his entire sleeve was missing and dry blood dotted the area where his arm was bitten off. There was a long tear in the middle of his shirt where Bloodletter stabbed through him, brownish dry blood smudged around his belly as a remnant of the healed wound. He also noticed that he was more pale than ever. The walls of the bedroom were beige, yet he still looked more white compared to them, standing out like snow on a mountain.


Maybe this kid has some spare clothes, Aaron thought to himself. But then he stopped. I should probably find out his age first.


He looked away from the mirror at a small photograph of the boy placed at the corner of the dresser. The boy in the photo looked around sixteen or seventeen, and he was surrounded by other youths at what appeared to be a school party. Aaron got a bad impression from the kid, mostly because of his prideful smug combined with the formal clothing he was wearing and the uncomfortable looks he was getting from the girls around him.


Something gives me the feeling this kid was a wanker, Aaron thought to himself. But at least I know he has good taste in clothing.


Aaron turned away from the dresser and approached a set of sliding doors guarding a closet. As he slid one of the doors open, the only clothes he could find were a brown T-shirt, a cleaner pair of trousers, and a hooded cargo jacket, much to his disappointment. He wouldn't have complained if it weren't for the fact that it looked almost exactly like a typical DZI uniform.


Of all the memories I didn't want to bring back, Aaron thought to himself as he stared at his reflection, holding the jacket in front of him.


He emptied his pockets to count his belongings. He had his notebook, a pencil, the DZI mask he wore when he killed Dan, a hunting knife, and Dan's gun. He groaned in annoyance at the realization that he could've threatened Bloodletter with the gun since he wasn't wearing his helmet. Maybe even killed him if he had to. But then he'd probably have to face the wrath of the Commoner Deadmen. That is if Bloodletter hadn't ripped him apart first.


After putting on the new set of clothes, he brushed dust off the coat and stuffed his belongings into the pockets of his new pants before making his way out. He reluctantly resumed his journey back to Matheson, following the dirt path away from the house toward the tower. He looked at the greenery around him, trying to find the wildlife he spotted earlier. All he wanted was to see something serene for a change before he'd return to the turbulent refuge he'd once called home.


Several minutes later he found the deer. Or at least what was left of it.


Around the corner of a large shrub, a Deadman was ripping apart the corpse of a deer. Aaron could tell it wasn't even bitten; he had witnessed several animals resurrect before. It was simply being mauled. The Deadman ripped out a chunk of flesh from the poor animal and swallowed it whole, blood dripping down its clothing.


"I think you've had enough for today," a female voice said. The Deadman's skull was shattered by a bullet, and the rest of the body collapsed to the ground.


The sound of footsteps grew closer. Aaron ducked into the shrub, completely hidden in the greenery. He stayed as silent as possible as the female DZI soldier approached the corpses. He realized the soldier was Cassandra, the girl he ran into at the DZI headquarters before ripping apart Rupert's hand. She nudged the Deadman with the edge of her rifle, causing a small stream of blood to drip down the new hole in its skull.


"You wankers find Rupert yet?" Cassandra called.


"Of course not," another soldier replied, this time a male. "It doesn't exactly help that we're also supposed to be looking for—holy shit!"


Aaron almost fell back at the sudden exclamation. The other soldier, a young man Aaron only knew from the roll calls as Duncan, dragged a headless body out of a ditch near a tree. It wore a DZI uniform—boots, jacket, and everything else—and Aaron read the name tag emblazoned on the bloodied jacket in horror:


R. Cromwell


"Found him," a third soldier added grimly. "I know it's already obvious from the name tag, but there's only one other way to tell if it's really him."


The third soldier approached Rupert's headless body and rolled it over so his back was facing the sky. The words Corpse Killer were etched in white chalk across the back of his jacket. The third DZI nodded with disappointment.


"Yep, it's him," he declared. "He drew that on his jacket yesterday in Longridge."


Duncan walked back to the ditch and winced as he lifted out Rupert's disembodied head. His cheeks were bony and pale, almost a greenish pigment. His eyes were still open, lifeless yet electrified, as if gazing back into Aaron's eyes.


"Found the rest of him," Duncan said. He pulled out a black trash bag and nonchalantly stuffed the head into it.


"So much for showing respect," Cassandra remarked, noticing Duncan's apparent apathy.


"He's gonna be cremated anyway," Duncan replied. "It's not like his body is worth hundreds of quid or anything. Besides, his soul is probably in a better place. Wherever that may be."


"Well just hurry up. We're supposed to be searching for Aaron O'Connor, too, remember?"


Aaron had to keep himself from leaping out of the bush. He stayed kneeled down and waited for the three DZI soldiers to walk away.


"What's his deal anyway?" Duncan asked. "I know Shaw expects us to be pissed off at him for the Longridge incident, but it's not like O'Connor was the one giving the orders."


"Schaefer suspects O'Connor of killing Dan earlier, especially considering the fact Dan was testing his blood for infection before he was offed. You really should've been there, mate."


The trio made their way down the road, continuing their conversation. "Lemme guess: they're testing him after his little incident with Rupert?"


"Incident is an understatement, mate," the third soldier replied. "I heard someone say he ate his entire arm!"


Bollocks, Aaron groaned in his head.


"Were you not there?" Cassandra said. "It wasn't his whole bloody arm! He just nibbled a bit off his fist."


"Why don't you check for yourself?" Duncan said, dropping the body bag containing Rupert to the ground.


He unzipped the bag and covered his face with his mask. He reached into the bag and hesitantly lifted up Rupert's arm. Sure enough, a long ragged gash streaked across his hand. The wound was an insidious shade of red since it didn't scab over due to the infection, and the area around the wound was a mix of purple and green as the infection coursed through Rupert's veins.


"Damn." Cassandra winced. "Did O'Connor or a wolf do this?"


"Maybe it was an infected wolf," the third soldier added.


"Definitely rivals the work of a wolf. But nope. It was all O'Connor's doing. And that's why Schaefer wants him behind bars, maybe even executed."


Aaron's desire to return to Matheson decreased with every word spouted from these soldiers' mouths. There were only three people there he wanted to see: Kat, Jonah, and especially Nika.


Duncan placed Rupert's arm back into the bag and zipped it up. "Sadly, in this world, we can no longer mourn the dead. Especially since they don't always stay dead. Now let's go home."


The three of them continued making their way through the forest, Aaron silently following behind them. He kept hiding in the bushes and sneaking behind trees, using the nature around him to his advantage. And the three DZI didn't notice a thing. They were too focused on carrying the body bag.


Several minutes later, the three DZI approached one of Matheson's jeep trucks parked underneath a tree. The three of them placed the body bag on the truck bed and tied it down with ropes. Aaron noticed several other boxes in the back of the truck hidden underneath a tarp. Maybe he could hitch a ride.


And if things didn't go as planned, he had a gun and a hunting knife just in case he had to improvise.


Phase One of his plan to hitch a ride commenced. Aaron grabbed a rock next to the tree he was hiding behind and tossed it in front of the vehicle.


"The hell was that?" Duncan said.


Just as planned the three soldiers were distracted. However, Cassandra and the third soldier returned their focus to the truck and entered the front seats while Duncan walked to the front of the truck to investigate the source of the noise.


Aaron ran for it. He quickly put on his mask and his hood and hopped into the back, sliding across the truck bed. He shoved the body bag away from him and covered himself with the tarp, staying as still as possible.


His plan seemed to be going well until he heard the sound of a door closing. His fear subsided as one of the soldiers simply exited the truck to close the door to the truck bed.


Once the soldier was back in the truck, the engine started and they made their way back to Matheson. It was a rocky ride and Aaron was almost crushed several times by the cargo that surrounded him, but he and the others made it safely back to Matheson. He could hear the sounds of Matheson's generators rumbling outside the walls as they got closer.


The truck paused for a moment as the DZI waited for the gate back into Matheson to open up. The sounds of gears clanking occurred as the gates parted ways, but Aaron couldn't see any of it from his hiding spot under the tarp. However, he exited Matheson so much during his days in the DZI that he knew exactly what was going on.


The truck slowly advanced into the tower and the doors repeated their process of gears clanking and gates shutting. Aaron now realized he didn't have a plan for when he'd finally arrive back in the tower.


The only thing he could think of at the moment's notice was to sneak into the tunnels below the DZI headquarters and exit into the indoor ranch nearby. And even though he still had weapons, he knew there was no way he could pick a fight now.


The truck slowly edged into one of the DZI's parking garages. The door to the truck bed flipped down and one of the soldiers climbed up. The body bag was carried off and the soldier climbed back down.


"Do we need anything else?" Duncan asked. "Like any of those boxes in the truck?"


Shit! Aaron thought, realizing Duncan was talking about the supplies hidden under the tarp alongside him. Please say no, please say no, please say—


"Nah," Cassandra replied. "Maybe next time."


The soldiers closed up the truck bed and exited the garage. Aaron could hear the garage door shutting automatically and he jumped out of the truck as soon as he was out of their line of sight. He ran to the nearest door as soon as the last ray of light coming from the garage door disappeared. He opened the new door up and exited the garage.


He found himself in a corridor leading in opposite directions. One led to the barracks and the other led out into the Commons. Aaron already knew where to go.


He burst out running, his steps echoing through the hallway. He was close to the exit and he no longer cared about the attention he was unknowingly gaining from his loud running.


"Who's that?!" someone called out.


No one you should concern, Aaron thought.


He burst through the doors and continued bolting, speeding across the Commons as if he'd die if he stopped. He then gained more attention thanks to his speed, of course, and his mask, something only the DZI wore.


I've got to get out of the open, he thought.


He approached the elevator and frantically tapped the button pointing up. He took a quick glimpse behind him and noticed a small gathering of DZI soldiers making their way toward him. He was in trouble.


The doors slid open and Aaron jumped in, bashing the sixth button with his finger. The doors closed and the elevator ascended.


He sat down on the floor of the elevator as it continued going up, doing everything he could not to have a panic attack. He could see the group of DZI soldiers gathered at the bottom floor, but he couldn't tell what they intended on doing to him. Would they set him free into the Dead Zone? Or would they execute him on the spot as soon as they find out his dark secret?


The elevator arrived on the sixth floor and Aaron ran to his flat. He slammed the door behind him and locked it, leaving the key in the keyhole. He moved over to the wall and slid down against it in a fetal position.


Aaron let out a sigh of relief, even though—knowing how things constantly went for him—he knew it wouldn't last more than a few minutes.

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