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Published:
2020-09-05
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2020-09-05
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Memoirs

Chapter 3

Notes:

Low life for life 'cause I'm heartless.
"Heartless," The Weeknd

Chapter Text

Snow poured on Manhattan on the day that all hell broke loose. 

 

The JTF, and by extension, The Division had failed to keep the upper part of the borough in check. They had lost countless lives to rioters and disease, not to mention agents of their own. Now, it was almost as if the JTF vanished all together. Everything went to shit so fast, it was no wonder they couldn’t get a grip on the situation. It had spiraled before their feet were even on the ground. 

 

Evelynn knew why they had done it, or at least, imagined why. They weren’t the same as the SHD agents. This was beyond their scope; they were scared . Did it excuse their actions? Absolutely not. But it made them human, and it was only human to fear when everything had been turned against them and the odds seemed impossible. It caused what was left of the agents to become sitting ducks. Comms were scrambled, and they were spread thin.

 

They were hiding out in an alley when Keener asked the question. 

 

“How could they just betray us like that?”

 

Evelynn’s brow furrows at his remark, eyes glancing over to her companion.

 

“Aaron, these people are scared . They’re not like us, nor should we have expected them to be.”

 

The grip tightens on his weapon, anger flaring in his eyes. This wasn’t right- they couldn’t just abandon the city like this. There was a job that had to be done, but suddenly they weren’t allowed to do it? No… No, it wasn’t going to be like this. It couldn’t be.

 

“We need to get going,” Evelynn says quietly, standing to make her way out of the alley, “We have our orders to evacuate.”

 

The woman, already chilled to the bone, takes a few steps towards the exit when she notices a lack of another pair. She’s puzzled, turning to see Keener standing, though he has yet to make any effort to move.

 

“Aaron, if we don’t go, we’ll miss our evac-”

 

“Evie, think ,” he says, cutting her off, a sharp tone lacing his words, “What’s to say that this isn’t going to happen again? No, when it happens again. We need to stay- we have to stay.”

 

The woman can’t believe that she’s hearing these words come from his mouth. She understood his sentiment- it pained her to have to leave this behind. To leave the people drowning in conflict and contamination. But what choice did they have? Without any backup, they would die. And then what was left? No information, no nothing: they would be useless, and then the cause would be for nothing.

 

“Aaron, we took an oath , and you know this. We have to report back to the Div-”

 

“Fuck the Division,” he spat, venom in his words, “we don’t need them! I’m not leaving these people to die.”

 

There is a long silence between the two, their eyes scanning one another. Was he bluffing? Would she leave? Was this really happening? The woman started getting nervous at the way the man was speaking. This wasn’t the Aaron Keener she knew. No, this was someone completely different.

 

Someone she didn’t know.

 

“Keener… you’re blowing smoke. Now’s not the time for this-”

 

“Now is the perfect time for this. This situation? What’s going on? It just proves how broken this all is. Someone needs to take the reins- put it all back together, no matter the cost.”

 

Evelynn began to falter as she saw Keener’s watch briefly flash red. His eyes glance down at the piece of equipment, contemplating. Not moments later is when he made the decision that would put everything in motion. He taps at the screen of the device for a moment until ISAC chimes out, echoing in the small alley.

You have disavowed Division affiliation. This action will mark you as rogue.

 

Evelynn immediately draws her rifle up, prompting the barrel of his assault rifle to point towards her just as fast. The game had changed, and he was rogue. Her watch was orange lit, his red. In a matter of seconds, he gave up everything that the Division was. For what? A self-righteous act that may not come to fruition?

 

“What have you done? ” she asks, her voice shaking, “Keener, you-”

 

“Come with me, Evie. You and I could do this together,” he says, cutting in front of her again, “... don’t make me do something I’m going to regret.”

“Regret?” she counters, “You mean like going back on everything you vowed?”

 

There is another long bout of silence, both weapons still trained at one another. The air was charged; tense and agonizing as they both didn’t speak. The woman’s thoughts are too jumbled to make coherent words. What could she say to the man that she trusted not just moments ago? What could he say to the woman that caused him to second guess the world?

 

“Keener… What the hell are you trying to prove?” she asks, tears threatening to fall from her eyes if she wasn’t careful, “This isn’t you…”

 

“... it is now,” he replied, his voice low, “Last chance, Evie… Please.

 

The look on his face begged for her to come… and she hated that it was all too tempting. But she had to remember her oath; that she had purpose here in all of this. Shaky hands grip the weapon tight, and the soft click of the safety turning off notified the man of her decision.

 

They had both decided.

“Are you really going to kill me, Keener?

“... I could ask the same of you, Hall.

 

She finds herself perplexed when his eyes suddenly widen, flickering to something behind her. As if an automatic trigger, she quickly turns on her heel. Her line of sight peers down her scope-

 

Only to find nothing.

 

What?---

 

A devastating hit to the back of her head with cold metal knocks the wind right from her. She falls to her knees, weapon clattering to the ground before she falls to her side. Her vision was blurry, and she saw her sight start to fade. With what was left remaining of her consciousness, she peers up, helpless, tears spilling from her eyes. Was it from the pain, or from mourning the loss of the man she once knew in front of her?

 

“Aar.. on...”

 

And in a moment, she was out; unconscious, her body crumpled on the snowy concrete of the alley. Keener makes quick work, grabbing up her bag, rifle, and sidearm. He stared for a few minutes, contemplating just what he had done. There was no going back now- his choice had been made, this moment cementing its severity. As he turns to leave, he reaches the end of the alleyway before pausing, turning to glance back at the woman he was leaving behind one last time. 

 

He didn’t have the heart to kill her; he couldn’t do it. He only hoped whoever did would make it quick.

 

Pulling his hood over his head, Aaron Keener disappears into the Dark Zone, vanishing into the night like a ghost.



It takes a month for a small JTF crew to make its way back to the Dark Zone. They comb over the area, horrified by what they see. The area had been ravaged, gutted from the inside out. It was a harrowing sight to witness, and it made the small crew uneasy.

 

Captain Roy Benitez is at a nearby apartment complex, searching for any supplies they may be able to recover. Pushing in on the door to one of the lower floors, he can hear rustling in the room adjacent to him. Assuming the worst, he trains his weapon in front of him before quickly turning the corner.

 

“Don’t move! Hands where I can see-”

 

He’s shocked to see a woman, rattled, with a worn handgun in her hand trained on him. She was curled up in the corner of the room, under a blanket with a makeshift fire going. Her mouth is covered by a respirator coated in dried blood, her clothes torn and tattered. Dark bags were present under her eyes, and it looked like she hadn’t slept in days.

 

For all the rumors and talks, he never would’ve expected this. 

 

Core temperature dropping. Threat of hypothermia increased, ” ISAC chimed from her watch, “ Agent vital signs critical, medical assistance required .”

 

“Holy shit.”

 

The First Wave wasn’t dead, and the living proof was right in front of him.