In Newbie's dream, he was back in the overturned transfer vehicle.
Gunshots rang endlessly in his head. The metallic scent of blood filled his nostrils, and the bitter taste of vomit clung to his tongue as he knelt on all fours—drenched in the blood of his fellow officer. His breath came in short, panicked bursts. His thoughts were scattered, overwhelmed.
Slowly, the truck's back doors began to groan shut, creaking like something out of a nightmare. He scrambled toward them, reaching out in desperation—but just as his fingers touched the cold metal, they slammed shut in his face.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
Trapped and alone, tears streaked down his face as he slammed his fists against the door, screaming into the void, "Let me out! Please—someone! Let me out!"
His eyes shot open as Jackie shook his shoulder.
Jolting upright, he locked eyes with her—his stare sharp, haunted.
"You alright?" she asked, her voice soft but worried. "You were murmuring in your sleep. You kept saying, 'Let me out.'"
"I'm fine," he snapped, brushing her hand off and sitting up straighter, trying to pull himself together.
All around, the other officers eyed him for his tone. They'd only met her today, but they wouldn't tolerate any disrespect towards Jackie.
"I-I'm sorry. It was a bad dream."
"I don't know if this will be of any help or not," Jackie said as she sat beside him, "but I understand what it's like to be trapped, reliving unpleasant memories. No one can free you but yourself. You have to truly allow yourself to open that door. But with that being said, even with the answers, you won't fully understand until you succeed in doing so for yourself. Keep moving forward, and you'll find your way in due time."
"What do you know?" he asked rhetorically under his breath, careful not to let the other officers hear.
"What do I know?" she asked, leaning forward. "Are you forgetting I'm an only child with deceased parents?"
Newbie's eyes widened as he realized what he'd just said. "Ms. O'Hara, I–"
"I don't have some perfect record of saving everyone; that type of thing only happens in stories. I think the events of today are proof enough of that. I've even managed to lose the closest people to me, unable to do a thing for them. I've freed myself from the weight of most things, but every now and then I visit hell when I close my eyes at night and I see those I wasn't able to save," Jackie paused for a moment.
"Maybe I only half know what I'm talking about, but what other option do we have but to move forward? We might as well try to grow and heal while we do so."
Jackie patted Newbie on the shoulder before standing to her feet and addressing everyone.
"Alright, men. This is as close as we can get to the action with the trolley. From here, we go on foot. We'll take them by surprise."
"Yes, ma'am!" the officers shouted in unison.
BACK IN WESTERN AUCLAIR, THE BATTLE RAGED ON.
"Hold in there, men! Backup will be here any moment!" shouted the chief to his men.
I know I'm asking a lot of you, Jackie, but please hurry, Chief Nkosi thought to himself.
As his worries painted his face and sweat ran down his neck, someone came hurtling past him, jumping right into the middle of the battle.
"What the? Who is that?" asked the chief.
"Get down!" an officer beside the chief shouted, pulling him behind cover as a bullet struck the sandbag barrier protecting them. "I think that was the child from the other day."
"What?! What is he doing here?!" the chief exclaimed, standing back to his feet. But just as quickly as he stood, he ducked back down after a bullet zipped past his ear.
"We've got to get him out of there!"
"With stray bullets coming that close, I don't think you'd be able to make it, Chief."
Chief Kota Nkosi sat there, frustrated. Balling his hand into a fist, he slammed it against the ground.
Where the hell is backup?
As Noir plunged into the fray, searching for Jackie, memories flickered through his mind as he repeated a phrase to himself:
"Just react. Just react. Just react."
He'd witnessed it countless times—an animal of lesser power evading the clutches of much larger predators simply due to its speed. Noir didn't see himself as weaker than the Dread Hunters' tools of destruction. Instead, he knew it was a clash between two tried-and-tested powers.
The night that Theo shot at him was etched vividly in Noir's memory. His keen eye for detail and sharp sense of movement allowed him to recall exactly how Theo fired his gun.
"You don't have to be faster than the weapon—just the man behind it," he told himself.
It was the only way he could think of beating something so much faster than he was.
Making his way to the middle of the battle, Noir looked around. Groups of men fought hand-to-hand and with melee weapons, while others exchanged gunfire—but there was no sign of Jackie.
"You stay right there, youngin'. It's extra points if you kill 'em from behind," a malicious voice growled behind him.
Before the Dread Hunter could pull the trigger, Noir swung his leg around and kicked him—his shin shattering the Dread Hunter's ribcage as he sent him flying.
Lifting the man by his collar, Noir started to question him about Jackie's whereabouts, but stopped when he realized the Dread Hunter had been knocked unconscious.
"Hey! Get away from him!" a trio of Dread Hunters shouted as they ran over, surrounding Noir with their melee weapons.
"We saw that, kid," said one of them.
"Yeah, you're gonna pay for that," said another.
"Mhm," the third muttered, spitting on the ground.
Noir easily took them down, leaving their bodies unresponsive in the dirt. Desperation was creeping in, though he recognized it only as anger. Fueled by that anger, he charged straight into the heart of the battle, determined to find Jackie.
"Hey Theo, isn't that the kid?" asked Neil, who was spectating the fighting like a war general through a pair of binoculars.
"Let me see those." Theo took the binoculars and scanned the battlefield. "Hm. It seems it is. Why don't we go over there and greet him?"