Chapter 113: The Understanding Born

For a long moment, none of them from Basil's group said anything, their eyes gradually widening.

Anton turned completely around to face Basil, his boots grinding tiny fragments of broken glass into the wet floor tiles. The heavy exhaustion that had been weighing down his broad shoulders since his voice returned vanished from his posture in an instant.

"Basil," Anton said, his voice dropping into a hard, flat register. "You know what you are to the people back at the shelter. I'm sure I don't need to stand here and list it all out for you..."

"Then... I would rather you don't," Basil said simply. "It would save all of us the trouble."

"Sixty people are sitting in that hall," Anton pressed, taking a step closer. "Half of everything that keeps them cooperative despite our struggles is because they trust in you if they don't in us right now.

"Yara and Madeline will still be with you, they trust the two of them jsut as much as me. I'd say their even more fond of Madeline than me as wel," Basil replied, his forearms remaining planted firmly over his knees.

He didn't raise his voice in the slightest, keeping his tone as level as a dry stone. "Nothing that I do back there is a job that only I can carry out.

"That's not an answer to why you're doing this," Anton said. "Who do you have to go look for? We can understand Dion... ultimately, he wasn't from our group and likely has a small one of his own... but for you? Even if you do go there, what happens if you don't find who you're looking for? Dion said it himself that he has places to be beyond Novamed, but you on the other hand..."

Basil fell silent at that. His broad thumb moved rhythmically along the damp side seam of his trousers.

His eyes drifted past Anton, looking out through the empty window frame to where the rain slammed onto the giant black carcass lying in the street.

"The hospital is a complete graveyard," Irvin chimed in from his spot near the shelf. "You just watched one creature fold six of us into the dirt, and your response is to walk the worst stretch of this city on the back end of your fifties when you're not even awakened? He can handle himself, sure... but I doubt I can say the same for you if you aren't with enough awakened to keep you safe out there. With him already taking the kid and Florence, you think he'll be looking out for you as well?"

"..."

"Why, Basil? Are you going to look for family or something? You don't think we all want to do that?" Anton asked again, his tone dropping lower this time, stripped of its edge.

"Back at the building," Basil said at last, his eyes rising to settle directly on Dion, who still hadn't lifted his head to look at them, "you said that if they were dead, you'd at least bring back the body so they could bury them."

"...," Dion didn't say anything in response, silently lilstening.

Then, Basil sighed, and he finally said, "My son has been missing since the first night, "And I have spent every single day since then managing food tallies for strangers, telling myself it was the responsible thing to do, and he would be alright, that he can handle himself while we figure out how to eventually get all the way to novamed.."

A slow breath escaped Basil's nose, rattling slightly in his dark chest.

"You're the first person I've heard say it plainly that you're willing to disregard everything to go looking for someone through all this regardless of whether they might already be gone or not. And... as his father, I must do that for him as well. I'll look for him, and if he's alive, I'll find him and bring him back to you all with myself"

Then, his hands clenched and briefly his jaw tensed.

"And if he's turned... Then the very least I can do as his father is bury him."

The steady drone of falling rain filled the building, drowning out the faint sounds of their heavy breathing.

Florence pulled Julian tighter against her hip, her hands wrapping around the child without her appearing to consciously realize it.

Anton stared at Basil for a long, quiet moment. Whatever arguments he had been building up behind his teeth were let go unsaid.

"...Fine," Anton said at last, his head dropping slightly. "Alright."

'So that question in the stairwell was never about me at all', Dion thought, his eyes resting on the ceiling.

"Then, we'll all go together as far as the cars just as planned," Dion said, turning away toward the window.

And Paris, silently watching, pursed his lips a little. He almost wanted to speak and tell them he would be leaving as well, but he couldn't find it in himself to interrupt the moment.

Eventually, they recovered enough to leave and walk back through the flooded district followed the exact same streets, but the streets felt entirely different now.

Three zombies lunged out from the shadow of a loading bay two blocks into their march, and amongst them all, Irvin was the first moving to go kill them.

He moved before Anton could fully turn his head, his heavy machete chopping clean through the temple of the lead zombie with a wet, heavy thud.

He didn't fall back into the safety of the formation after the zombie dropped.

Then he took the point position alongside Anton once more and kept his eyes locked on the road ahead.

'Someone's angry...' Dion almost felt slightly amused at the guy. 'But... it should be a good thing. That frustration would at least move him to get stronger to help them stay alive.'

Dion watched the entire sequence from the middle of the column, his sore thighs aching with every step.

When the next cluster of four zombies spilled around a toppled bus, Irvin struck the first one down immediately.

Paris stepped out just ahead of Dion while he stayed back in protection of Florence and Julian, to meet the second.

The boy's swing was far too heavy, driven by raw panic the way all his attacks were, but his boots were firmly set before his weapon killed the zombie..

When the creature hit the wet pavement, Paris was already pivoting his torso to look for the next threat instead of staring at what he had just killed.

The abandoned vehicles were parked right where they had left them along the curb, rain beading heavily over their glass windscreens.

They loaded the crates of medical supplies into the back of the heavy SUV, saving only the small portion Florence measured out for their own trip.

Her hands moved with practiced speed across the foil blister packs while Anton held the canvas bags wide for her.

When the inventory was settled, Anton stood near the driver's door for a beat, his fingers tapping against the wet frame.

Then he picked his way around the bonnet to where Dion was leaning against the curb.

"Back at the pharmacy," Anton said, his voice quiet over the sound of rain drumming against the roof.

"Before that skunk showed up, I never got to finish asking you about those three options the system gave me." His thumb found the thick leather strap of his shoulder bag again. "The three options that the chronicle gave me were Swordsman, Knight, and Barbarian. Which one would you take if you were me?"

Dion considered the question for a moment, then gave the man the direct truth. R

"I don't know," Dion said, shaking his head slightly.

"I've never had to make a choice between multiple. The chronicle only gave me one option, and thankfully I managed to complete the conditions for it during the fight with the birds. And even if I had... a decision like that, choosing what you're going to be from here on, isn't something you hand off to someone else's judgment. Whatever answer I gave you, you'd be the one living in it, not me. So, you should make the choice yourself."

Anton held his gaze for a long second.

Then the hard tension in his shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch, and he let out a short, breathy laugh.

"Yeah... you're right" Anton muttered. "I suppose... I knew that already and just wanted somebody to tell me anyway." Then, he extended his broad, calloused hand toward Dion. "For everything," Anton said. "From the parking garage to here."

Dion took the hand, squeezing it once.

"You're a good guy, Anton. Much better than me. I'm just a dedicated scumbag..." Dion faintly laughed to himself. "I wish you guys well."

"Madeline," Anton called out, turning back toward the SUV.

She stepped forward from the curb, stopping right in front of Dion.

She offered him a short, stiff nod that was almost a bow before ducking quickly into the back seat before anyone could respond. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze for more than just a few moments, where he, fortunately for her, couldn't see that the rain had disguised her tears.

Although she didn't know that he could tell that she had been.

Irvin walked around to the far side of the vehicle, holding the rear door open while looking at Dion across the wet roof of the SUV.

"Next time," Irvin said, his voice carrying clearly over the rain, "I won't be watching the fight from the dirt."

He stepped inside, slamming the heavy door flush against the frame.

"Uhm..."

Suddenly, Paris walked himself towards Anton and Dion, thier attention drifting to him. Then he shuffled a little closer to Dion.

"I want to go with him as well."

Anton froze for a moment, his gaze drifting between the two of them. Then, surprisingly, he only sighed. He didn't say anything, only faintly nodding then he turned on his heel for their car.

The SUV's engine turned over with a deep, mechanical hum, its headlights cutting twin beams through the dark.

The heavy vehicle pulled away down the flooded street, its wipers slapping rhythmically against the glass, until it shrank down the road and disappeared around the corner.

"That went a lot better than I would have thought..." Paris muttered beneath his breath.

Dion only faintly shook his head and turned to the car where the others were waiting inside. "Let's go, Paris. We don't have any more time to waste."

Dion walked over to the four-door sedan and pulled the rear door open.

Paris slid into the front passenger seat, pulling the door shut.

Basil had been waiting in the driver's seat, setting his heavy CZ pistol flat against his right thigh where he could reach it in an instant.

The sedan's engine sputtered twice before catching, the heater blowing a weak stream of damp air through the vents.

Ahead of them, past the rain-streaked windscreen, the grey asphalt stretched east toward the Novamed complex.

"Drive slow," Dion said, despite his own wishes, leaning his head back against the headrest.

He had said it simply becuase he physically couldn't afford to fight anything as strong as the skunk right now, if they were to be drawn by the noise of the car.