Chapter 17. Scouts Honour

  Wilkes turned to his officers. “Alright. Two teams.

  Shields take point. Spears behind them. Crossbows at the back.

  Keep formations tight. Watch each other’s backs.”

  "One team scouts; the other stays to guard the hospital."

  Liu looked on curiously. “We’re treating this like a riot squad?”

  “Closest thing we’ve got to tactics, military or not.”

  “I hate that that makes sense.”

  Raven smirked. “Welcome to the apocalypse.”

  ” Scouts prioritise food and medical gear. Look for anyone holed up nearby. We move fast, get in, get out.”

  "Swap out halfway through the day."

  "Those staying to guard—basic patrols and rest up when you can. It’s going to be a long day."

  "Hostiles?" one of the officers asked.

  Wilkes sighed. “If it’s just goblins or lizards, engage if necessary. Anything bigger—don’t be a hero, pick your battles you're no use to anyone dead.”

  Liu rolled out a tattered map of the city. “Alright, here’s what we’re working with. Supermarkets are marked, but we don’t know what’s been picked clean yet.”

  “We stick to backstreets,” one of the officers suggested. “Stay out of sight, keep to cover.”

  Raven leaned over the map, tracing a route with his finger. “This stretch here? Close to the hospital, but isolated enough that it might not have been looted yet.”

  Wilkes nodded. “Good call. We’ll start there.”

  Raven hesitated, his mind flashing back to the group that had confronted him on his way to Darryl’s house. They’d claimed to be helping people get to the hospital, yet he hadn’t seen them anywhere since. That didn’t sit right with him. He exhaled sharply before speaking.

  "Be careful of other armed groups. Not everyone out there is as friendly as they claim to be."

  One of the officers, a thick-set man with a scar running across his chin, crossed his arms. “So, we’re just taking orders from a kid now?”

  Wilkes shot him a sharp look. “We’re taking orders from the only person who actually knows how any of this shit works.”

  The officer grumbled but didn’t argue further.

  As the team started dividing responsibilities, a voice cut through the discussion—low, sceptical, edged with distrust.

  From the back of the group the officer Raven had caught hiding in the chapel—stepped forward, crossing his arms as he eyed Raven with thinly veiled distrust. His lips curled, and his voice carried the sharpness of accusation.

  "You sure we should be trusting him?" the man sneered. "I saw what he did. He walked straight through a wall like a damned ghost. You telling me that's normal?"

  The room tensed.

  Raven stilled, meeting the officer’s gaze with measured calm, though he felt the heat of irritation bubbling under the surface. He’d been called a lot of things in his life, but a monster? That was new.

  Wilkes exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "Now's not the time for this."

  The officer didn't back down. "Like hell it isn't! We don’t know what he is. How do we know he ain’t some kind of freak? Or worse—what if he's one of them? Changed by whatever the hell is going on?"

  A murmur spread through a few of the others. Suspicion was infectious, and Raven could see it creeping across their faces, doubt settling in like a fog.

  He pressed on his voice gaining momentum. "Things out there are mutating fast. What if he’s next? What if tomorrow he wakes up with claws? Or worse—what if he’s already changing?"

  Raven’s fingers twitched at his sides, a muscle in his jaw tightening. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or deck the guy.

  He opened his mouth, but Wilkes cut in before he could fire back.

  Wilkes’ voice dropped, low and deliberate. “That’s enough.” As he stepped forward, his skin shifted—darkening to a gunmetal sheen, the light catching in a way that made him look carved from raw iron. “You calling me a monster too?”

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  The officer hesitated, but his expression remained defiant. "I'm just saying—"

  "And I'm saying," Wilkes interrupted, voice dropping dangerously low, "That this kid just took out one of those big bastards you couldn’t even scratch. He got inside the hospital, claimed the Ether sink, and stopped the spawns. So, unless you think you could’ve done all that yourself, shut the hell up and fall in line."

  Silence.

  A few of the other officers exchanged looks but said nothing. The tension didn’t fade entirely, but no one wanted to be the next to challenge Wilkes.

  The officer clenched his fists, but he didn’t argue further. His mouth pressed into a thin, bitter line, and with a final glare at Raven, he stepped back into the crowd.

  Raven exhaled, rolling his shoulders, forcing himself to relax, the words stuck with him more than he liked. He wasn’t afraid of dying—but of becoming something others feared? That was harder to shake. He hadn’t realized how much tension had coiled through him until the moment passed. But the doubt lingered.

  He wasn’t sure what bothered him more—the officer’s accusation, or the way Wilkes’ skin turned to metal like it was no big deal. Was everyone changing? Was he?

  This was why he avoided leadership—too many eyes. Too many doubts. People questioned you. Challenged you. Distrusted you. And when things went south? They blamed you.

  He wasn’t here to be anyone’s hero.

  Wilkes turned to the rest of the gathered officers. “Anyone else got a problem?” His gaze swept across them, daring someone to speak.

  ""No boss," most of the officers called in unison.

  "Good," Wilkes muttered, then turned back to Raven, jerking his head toward the exit. "Come on. Let’s get back to business."

  Raven followed, but as he moved past the officer, he caught the man’s lingering glare.

  This wasn’t over.

  Raven noted the tension. He wasn’t looking for authority, but he knew damn well no one would follow him without question. The doubt hadn’t gone anywhere—it was just biding its time.

  The officers nodded and set out, one team consisting of two shields, two spears, and a crossbow moved through the plaza while the other started patrolling around the hospital.

  Walking into another room, Wilkes clapped Raven on the shoulder. “This was a good call.”

  Raven raised a brow. “What, listening to me?”

  Wilkes smirked. “Let’s not get carried away. We’ll see if this actually works first.”

  Raven chuckled, but there was something in Wilkes’ tone—some underlying caution.

  Wilkes folded his arms, tilting his head as he studied Raven like a puzzle, he wasn’t sure how to solve. Then, in a voice edged with curiosity and something unreadable, he asked:

  "Tell me, kid. Who exactly are you?"

  Raven hesitated, caught off guard by the question. He knew it wasn’t meant to be hostile—Wilkes wasn’t looking for a fight, but there was an edge to it, a weight behind the words that made it clear the man was genuinely trying to figure him out.

  “Who am I?” Raven echoed, running a hand through his hair. “Just a guy trying not to die.”

  Wilkes gave him a pointed look. “That’s a cop-out.”

  Raven sighed, leaning back against the table behind him. He glanced toward the hallway, wondering where Uri had disappeared to. Typical. Just when he was getting grilled, she vanished again.

  Fine.

  Raven crossed his arms and met Wilkes’ gaze. “I woke up yesterday to the world falling apart. Had a weird-ass dream, got handed a magic book, then had to fight for my life against some lizard thing.” He exhaled sharply. “Made it back to my godfather’s house, he got hurt, poisoned. Came here to get help. He died while we were trying to get here.”

  Wilkes’ expression didn’t change, but something in his posture shifted. A subtle softening, the kind that came from understanding.

  Raven forced down the lump in his throat and continued. “I lost Darryl, but I figured if I could at least make it here and help, then maybe I could do something that mattered. Killed the big bastard that nearly crushed me. Claimed the sink. And now I’m here, talking to you.”

  Wilkes nodded slowly. “So, you lost someone.”

  Raven tensed at the phrasing. Lost. As if Darryl had just wandered off somewhere and wasn’t lying dead in a back alley store. His fingers clenched into fists. “Yeah.”

  Wilkes rubbed his jaw. “I get it. The world just flipped on its head, and now you’re standing in the middle of it, trying to keep moving before it swallows you whole.” He met Raven’s gaze again, more serious now. “You’re a survivor.”

  Raven let out a bitter chuckle. “Is that what you call it?”

  Wilkes shrugged. “That’s what I am. That’s what the people in this hospital are. The ones outside? Most of them won’t make it. People freeze up when shit like this happens. They wait for someone to save them.” His expression darkened. “A lot of them won’t get that chance.”

  Something about the way Wilkes spoke made Raven pause. “You sound like you’ve seen this before.”

  Wilkes looked away for a moment, as if considering how much to say. Finally, he sighed. “Not like this. But I’ve been in places where law and order didn’t mean a damn thing. Where survival was about being smart, fast, and brutal.” He smirked faintly. “Guess that’s why I’m still here.”

  Raven studied him, noting the way the man carried himself—the confidence, the readiness. Yeah. He believed it. Raven had met plenty of tough guys before. Most of them were full of shit. Wilkes? He wasn’t just talking—he’d lived through something ugly. And somehow, he was still standing.

  After a moment, Wilkes clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Look, kid. I gave you shit earlier because I don’t like unknowns. But you’ve done more in one day than most of these people will do in a week.

  Wilkes was quiet for a moment, studying him. Then, with a begrudging nod, he said, "You’ve got good instincts."

  Raven huffed. “That a compliment?” he joked, but Darryl had believed in him too. That made Wilkes’ words harder to brush off.

  “Don’t get used to it.” Wilkes smirked. “Now, what’s your plan?”

  Raven exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “I think I’m best suited to scouting. I can get in and out without drawing attention, cover ground faster than a big group.” He hesitated before adding, “And honestly? I need some space.”

  Wilkes frowned but didn’t argue. “Alright. But you check back every two hours. I don’t need you vanishing like a dumbass.”

  Raven smirked. “What, worried about me?”

  Wilkes crossed his arms. “More worried about having to explain to your ghost why I didn’t stop you from getting yourself killed.”

  Raven chuckled dryly. “Fair enough.” He glanced at the door again, wondering just where Uri had wandered off to. He had a feeling she wasn’t done messing with his life just yet.

  But that was a problem for later. Right now, he had a city to scout—and a creeping sense that whatever waited out there would make the hospital look like the easy part.

  He wasn’t sure if he was leading, running, or just surviving—but either way, people were watching now.