Chapter Text
Perseverance.
He would reach his goal, undeterred by the setbacks that continued to stand in his way.
A skinny, middle-aged man with blond hair, already streaked with gray from age and stress, stepped into his spacious office.
He sank into a leather chair behind a desk cluttered with books and files, the polished wood barely visible beneath them. At the back of the room loomed a massive rectangular window, concealed behind heavy metal shutters. The walls, floor, and ceiling gleamed in pristine white, giving the laboratory the sterile, unmistakable look of an Umbrella facility.
He let out a deep yawn and removed his glasses, rubbing his tired blue eyes and the dark purple circles beneath them.
You better get some rest; you've got mountains of work to complete in the morning. The man told himself as the lights in the room dimmed.
Sleeping in his office proved more efficient than going home for the night. Besides, his white lab coat and leather chair offered just enough comfort to rest in.
Without warning, the black rotary phone on his desk began to ring. The persistent chime was quickly driving him to the edge of madness, and he begrudgingly propped himself up, letting out a frustrated groan.
Who on earth feels the need to bother me at three in the morning? Hm, I suppose the downside of living here means I'm hours ahead of most places. Still, it's worth it for all of this…
He picked up the phone and held it to his ear, letting out another deep sigh. “Yes?”
"Logan." The voice on the other end of the phone crackled, sending a wave of unease through his body.
“Y-You?!” Logan stuttered, his brow furrowing as he tried to compose himself. “I mean… William, what do you want?” He let out another frustrated sigh, his jaw tightening.
I hope he makes this quick. I don't have the time to waste on the likes of him anymore.
"I'm just calling to congratulate you on securing the funding increase for your work. It must be impressive, especially considering how stingy the executives are with spending on the Australian locations," William replied.
Australian? Hah, close guess. I suppose he isn't aware of the true whereabouts. Not that he should ever be privy to that information anyway.
The thought twisted into a grin on his dry lips as he leaned heavily on his desk, accidentally knocking a pile of papers that tumbled to the polished floor.
“Thanks,” Logan replied dryly, rubbing his forehead. “I think the connection is breaking up. I’m a hundred feet underground. And… well, you’re calling from NEST, aren’t you, Bill?”
“Uhh… yes, I am,” William replied, the conversation devolving into an uneasy silence.
The atmosphere over the phone was thick with tension as Logan tapped his pale fingers against the desk, his impatience mounting. It had been over a year since he last had any contact with this man, and the thought of him trying to worm his way back into Logan’s busy life was far from welcome.
“Is that it, then?” Logan leaned back in his chair, adjusting his glasses.
“No. Why didn't you come to visit us when you were in Raccoon City last week?”
Is this what he's asking of me? After what he did?!
“Oh-ho, you have quite the nerve being upset over that, don't you, William?!” Logan snarled into the phone, rising from his seat and sending the chair clattering backwards. “All I ever asked from you was a tiny sample of your G-Virus! But no-no-no-no-no-no, you couldn't even do that for me, could you?!”
“Logan, Golgotha isn't safe! The G-Virus won't help you save–”
“Bollocks! You're just worried that I'd finally be recognised as the superior scientist!” Logan shouted, saliva shooting from his mouth. “But that doesn't matter now. I don't need you or your family's little virus to save my own! This place contains more wonders than you can dream of, secrets that only I can unlock – secrets meant for me alone!”
Who in God's name does he think he is, attempting to overshadow me again and again after all these years?
“What the fuck are you talking about? You know what? We never got along, even when I tried my hardest to be civil with you! You could never meet me in the middle. Goodbye, br–!”
Logan abruptly ended the call, robbing William of the chance to complete his sentence as he slammed the phone down on the desk with fury.
“Imbecile…” he muttered under his breath, walking to the back of his office and pressing a small, round button on the wall beside the massive shutters.
As the shutters slowly rose, a soft purple glow spilled into the dim office, revealing a vast glass window that overlooked an endless bioluminescent cave network. Shimmering plants cast hues of violet and blue across the rugged stone, illuminating the immense subterranean expanse that cradled the facility.
Logan couldn’t help but smile with quiet pride as he watched the machines in the distance putting the final touches on a massive circular foundation.
My life's work... the cure. What does William have but a primitive tunnel underneath a city? Frivolous compared to my scientific utopia.
He stood motionless, arms folded behind his back as he gazed at his work. The violet glow shimmered in his bloodshot eyes, a reflection of both the light and his exhaustion.
I'll find a way. I'll beat this… for you.
The phone on his desk erupted into another round of ringing, the irritating tone pushing the scientist to the brink of frustration.
“Oh! What does he want now?!” Logan hissed through clenched teeth as he stormed back to his desk, snatching the phone and answering the call.
But it wasn't William's voice that greeted him.
It belonged to a young woman who spoke in an Australian accent.
“Please… She's asking for you.”
Leon drove through the stormy night, eyes flicking to the Jeep’s fuel gauge as it dipped dangerously low. Thick clouds smothered the stars above.
Running out of gas on my first day… yeah, that’s exactly what I need. That’d be real easy to live down. Leon thought as the glowing blue Mizoil sign came into view.
He pulled into the station, parking alongside the pumps.
Best not to chance it, Kennedy. But hey, you’re on the homestretch of this drive.
He settled back in his seat, savouring a fleeting moment of warmth before he'd have to face the cold.
A slight wave of relief washed over the young man. The trip to Raccoon City had been far from pleasant, the relentless storm made him think twice about getting behind the wheel. But he couldn’t risk being late on his first day.
Can’t believe they still haven’t given me a reason to stay away. Real nice knowing I’ve already missed my first official day on the job. Had a good starting date to plan things around and everything.
The message he’d received a few days ago still didn’t make sense. In a way, it stung. He was desperate to reach the city, to start his new job, and to leave behind the small town he’d grown up in. That part of his life was over.
For months, all he had wanted was to escape – like an animal gnawing at its own leg to escape a trap. Each day had dragged by at an agonisingly slow pace.
There was nothing left for him in that place. Not anymore. Still, the thought of starting a new chapter in his adult life was exciting. Moving on from an exhausting eighteen-month relationship wouldn’t be easy. Leaving behind the place where the only two people who had ever truly cared for him were buried added another layer of difficulty.
But even then, he sometimes couldn’t shake the feeling that they hadn’t truly wanted him around either.
I suppose I'll miss their house. Selling it was exhausting. Can't see myself missing her , though.
He shook his head, brushing the memories aside and forcing them to the back of his mind.
Oh well, all I need to do is refuel and be on my way. Then I can finally get some rest.
He ran a hand through his golden-brown hair and let out a long, weary sigh, then unbuckled his seat belt and stepped out of the vehicle.
A fierce blast of icy wind swept through, rattling the towering trees along the rain-soaked road, as a bright flash of blue lightning lit up the dark sky.
“Man, the weather’s in a foul mood tonight,” Leon muttered to himself as he reached for the green pump handle.
The icy breeze bit at his cheeks, but he ignored it. He only planned to be out of his Jeep for a few moments. Glancing back, he noticed a red Harley-Davidson parked beside an occupied phone booth.
Huh, sweet bike. Although I wouldn't be overly excited to ride it in this weather.
He remembered catching a glimpse of the bike speeding past him not long ago. It was the only other vehicle he’d seen on the road for hours.
Other than that, there wasn't a soul in sight.
It's strangely quiet around here. Eh, I guess that's to be expected late at night during a storm. I must be the only one mad enough to be out here.
He glanced back at the bike and phone booth briefly.
Well, I guess I'm not entirely alone.
He shrugged and kept filling the fuel tank. Leon glanced over at the station’s store. The lights were out, leaving the room in total darkness.
Something felt off.
The air felt... different.
He kept his eyes fixed on the pitch-black building as he slid the pump back into its holder.
Bet they're having some power issues, that's all.
The young man glanced over his shoulder at the red phone box, deep in thought.
Maybe they're calling for an electrician. Oh well, I just need to pay and be on my way. They'll get it sort–
Craaash…
The sharp sound of glass shattering echoed inside the building, startling the young man, who was already feeling somewhat on edge.
“What?” he murmured, shaking his head slightly as his intense gaze locked on the glass door through the Jeep’s back passenger window.
Okay… probably just somebody knocking glass over in the dark. No big deal. Jesus, man, why are you so jumpy tonight?
Another flash of lightning lit up the sky as he continued to stare. The rich scent of rain grew stronger as the storm unleashed its fury.
Come on… can I just get a glimpse?
Alas, the door offered only a faint glimpse of the dark interior, marked by a flimsy paper sign that hung haphazardly on the glass, with the word ‘OPEN’ printed in large green letters.
Oh, stop acting like a dumbass. Maybe she was right about you. Maybe you are just paranoid, useless… Ugh. Y'know what? Just go up and pay, don't even think about it.
Leon shook his head, scolding himself as he walked around the side of his Jeep.
Then an overpowering metallic smell hit him, making his stomach churn as he neared the building. He glanced down at the concrete, his mind racing with confusion.
Ugh, what the hell could that… be…
That’s when he saw it.
A trail of red.
Thick, crimson-stained footprints led straight through the glass door looming ahead.
Well, shit.
He reached down and pulled his trusty polymer handgun, Matilda, from his belt.
Might be needing this, keep your guard up.
With a hint of hesitation, he took another step closer and pressed his hand against the chilly glass door.
Okay, people could be needing your help here. Then again, maybe someone just hit a deer and pulled over to get it dealt with?
The young man struggled to find any logical reason why the bloody footprints leading into the building shouldn’t set off alarm bells.
But everything changed when he glanced over his shoulder.
A black sheriff’s car was parked right outside the station’s small store, the driver’s side door left wide open.
You don't just leave the door open to your police cruiser unless you're in a hurry. Stop trying to rationalise it, something's wrong. You can't waste time by being a coward.
Leon took a deep breath and pushed the door wide open. The hinges let out a loud squeak. Inside, the silence was broken only by the steady drumming of rain against the large glass windows.
This place is really giving me the creeps.
He narrowed his eyes, trying to peer deeper into the room, but it was no use. The heavy darkness swallowed everything.
“Hello? Anybody there?” he called out, keeping his voice steady and confident.
Silence answered him.
This does not bode well.
As he stepped forward, his foot caught something, making him stop. Leon glanced down and let out a small sigh of relief – it was just a flashlight.
“Huh, that’s handy,” he murmured, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his forehead.
Leon knelt carefully, picking up the flashlight with one hand and switching it on to light the area around him. To his frustration, the beam only revealed a jumble of cleaning products stacked on a nearby shelf and tiny dust particles drifting aimlessly in the stale air.
The glass door swung shut behind him, leaving Leon alone as he ventured deeper into the store. Moving cautiously past the aisles toward the back, where large freezers lined the wall, he cast a wary glance at the deserted counter. His grip on his gun remained tight.
How about I make this quick? I'm sure that… Wait, what's that sound?
Behind the counter was a door. It looked hefty and was almost certainly locked. Muffled grunts and different sounds he couldn't quite identify escaped from the other side. It sounded like some kind of struggle was occurring in the room, but the details remained unclear to him.
Gotta find a way in there.
As Leon approached the end of the aisle, a new wave of unease washed over him at the sight of another bloodstain coating the floor. The acrid odour intensified as he pressed further round the corner.
Suddenly, Leon stumbled upon a bald man who lay slumped against the wall, wearing a blue uniform that belonged to the store. The clerk was soaked in a deep, red blood that painted him from head to toe. A muffled, pained whimper escaped him, his jaw set tight as he grasped at his neck.
“Holy sh– Are you all right?!” Leon asked as his eyes widened and his mind raced.
Dumb question, Kennedy! Safe to say that he isn't suffering from a mild injury.
The clerk, clearly in pain, didn’t answer as Leon approached him quickly, his breaths becoming increasingly audible. Instead, he met the young man's gaze and pointed toward a door that stood ajar to his right. From further down the hall, the sounds of muffled voices and grunts echoed through the air.
What's happening here? What… who did this to you?
The commotion had to be occurring down that way, and whoever had attacked the clerk had to be there as well.
I guess that's where I'm headed. Hopefully this guy can hold steady by himself until I'm back.
“Don't move… I'll be back for you,” Leon instructed, attempting to sound self-assured in order to comfort the poor man as his breaths became more laboured and strained.
I really wish I could do more to help you right now. But I don't have anything to slow that bleeding. The sooner I actually know what's happening here, the sooner I can help.
Leon tightened his grip on Matilda's handle, his fingers wrapping around it firmly as he cast one last look at the injured clerk.
I'll get you the help you need soon, I promise.
With a long, steadying breath, he steeled himself before stepping into the narrow hallway.
As Leon moved closer, the sounds of a struggle became more pronounced, leading him to a door that was slightly open at the end of the hall. A small lamp dangled above, casting a weak light.
He could feel his heart pounding faster.
I could be dealing with a man with a knife. Hell, could even be a gun. That has to be why the police are here.
Leon hesitantly took one final step towards the door, his firearm at the ready as he carefully swung it open.
Here goes nothing.
He was met with a storage room cluttered with cans, surrounded by sturdy metal shelves that reached toward the ceiling. Leon aimed his flashlight at the back wall, where he finally identified the source of the noise.
Holy shit…
In a tense standoff, a man in a tan sheriff's uniform, sporting short brown hair, struggled to keep a larger, black-haired man pinned against the wall beside a bulky ventilation unit.
The black-haired man was snarling and thrashing, desperately trying to break free from the sheriff's grip.
His movements were violent and sharp – animalistic.
Though it wasn't apparent at first, when Leon directed his light towards them, he could see that the man's skin had a faint grey tint.
That doesn't look right. Ugh, doesn't smell right either. It's like… he's rotting?
“Stop moving!” the officer barked. He was doing everything he could to keep the agitated man from getting away, wrestling with him as he fumbled to bring the handcuffs into play.
What the fuck is this guy on?! Drugs?!
Leon’s eyes widened, and even the mere thought of the word drugs left a foul taste in his mouth.
In an instant, his body went rigid as memories came flooding back, fragments so faint he could barely grasp them.
Don't think about it. Now is really not the time…
He knew that dealing with substance abusers was an inevitability he couldn't avoid. It was bound to happen at some point during his career as a police officer. But to have it happen right on his first day?
Get a grip! Forget about them… and forget about her.
Leon shook his head, taking several quick steps into the storage room and towards the commotion.
There we go. Now make yourself useful.
“Officer, you need help?” he called out, keeping a tight grip on his flashlight and gun.
Jesus, this guy is crazy. Definitely on something, that's for sure.
The sheriff spun around sharply at the unexpected sound of Leon's voice, his eyes narrowing as the flashlight's glare struck him.
“Stay back, sir. I got this!” He extended an arm toward Leon, gesturing for him to stay.
The man with messy black hair pushed back against the wall, causing their bodies to collide. The sheriff stumbled and fell to the ground. In that brief moment, before he or Leon could react, the man seized the chance, pinning the sheriff down with his weight.
With a shaky grip, Leon pointed his firearm at the feral man, his fingers lingering just above the trigger.
Fuck! I don't have a good angle! If I shoot now, I'll hit them both! There's got to be something else I can do! Don't stand here! Help him!
Unable to assist with his gun, Leon took a panicked step forward, determined to help.
Just as he was about to close the distance, a chilling scream from the officer stopped him in his tracks. The dark-haired man had buried his face in the officer's neck, shaking violently. The officer's cries filled the air as flesh was torn away, blood pouring from the gruesome wound, saturating the ground in dark red.
“HE-HEY!” Leon yelled frantically as the man tore into the officer. “Get off him right now!”
Stunned into silence, Leon could hardly process the nightmare unfolding right before his eyes. His gaze trembled as the dark red stain spread across the storage room floor. The officer, lying helplessly, pleaded for help through anguished cries.
What should I do? What am I supposed to do?!
“Help me…” the sheriff pleaded for a final time, glancing up at Leon's wide, frightened eyes – terror and pain reflecting on his own.
A gruesome tearing sound echoed as the crazed man tore a massive chunk of crimson flesh from the sheriff’s mangled neck. The sheriff’s motionless body crumpled to the ground, his pupils fixed and dilated.
“F-Fuck…” Leon muttered in disbelief.
This can't be happening… I'll wake up any second now. This is just a nightmare…
The black-haired man lifted his head slowly, locking his cloudy white eyes onto the young man. The piece of flesh he had viciously torn from the officer's neck remained clamped tightly in his blood-soaked jaws.
His eyes looked dead and soulless.
He looked dead, like he was already decomposing with skin and teeth rotting away.
Leon didn’t understand how any of it was possible, but he was sure of one thing…
This was no man.
What the hell are you?!
The creature slowly pushed itself to its feet, stumbling forward.
“Freeze…! I'll shoot!” Leon warned him in a loud, demanding voice.
Am I really going to shoot someone on my first day? I have to kill someone before I've even put on my uniform?!
None of it was right.
None of it was fair.
Leon felt a wave of fear wash over him as the man stumbled forward, his vacant gaze fixed unwaveringly on the young officer.
What if this really is a man just on drugs…?
Leon wrestled with his thoughts, searching frantically for any tiny justification to avoid pulling the trigger.
Ugh… no! This man is on some fucked-up crap. He's already killed an officer in cold blood. Not to mention that clerk…
Doubt continued to cloud Leon's thoughts as the man advanced, narrowing the already fragile gap between them.
Maybe I can–
“OH SHIT!”
The grey-skinned man made a massive lurch towards him without warning, closing the distance within a fraction of a second.
“Get back, you bastard!”
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The room erupted with three gunshots as Leon fired rapidly, hitting the grey man in the face. The impact shattered his jaw, turning his head into a mushy mass, with bullets exiting through the back and splattering the ceiling with blood and brain matter as his head became a fountain of red fluid.
I don't believe it…
The man halted abruptly, managing to emit a strangled growl before collapsing to his knees with a heavy thump. He then fell over, lying still on the ground.
Leon shook his head as he combed his flashlight over the body of the fallen officer, the colour in the body draining. The young man didn't bother to check for a pulse. Nobody survives having half of their neck ripped out and all of the blood in their body emptied.
How the fuck am I supposed to explain this?! An officer killed and cannibalised…
Leon wanted to look away. His mind pleaded him to.
But he couldn't do it.
You distracted him. He had it all under control before you came in and got him killed!
Leon clenched his jaw hard, standing still in his own guilt, gripping his gun and flashlight tight in each trembling hand as his knuckles turned pale.
“I'm sorry, sir,” Leon muttered solemnly, turning around to leave the room.
I hate to be leaving him like this, but if I tamper with the scene, I'll only fuck things up even more than I already have.
"Rrrrggghhh... hhhhaaaarrgggh…” A low, raspy groan echoed from behind him.
The air in the room grew heavier as he turned around…
“Officer?!” Leon said, his mouth dropping to the floor in shock.
In the dim light of the room, the officer, his tan uniform now stained with blood, stood there with his face hidden in shadows.
“I'm so sorry, sir! I thought you were–” Leon stopped himself mid-sentence, ceasing his approach towards the man.
Hold on, that's… that's not right.
His skin was grey, and his eyes were empty, completely lacking anything that resembled humanity.
He was dead. That man killed him. But he looked sick, and now... he looks like he did?
The sheriff grunted in a deep, inhuman voice as he lifted his arms, reaching out unsteadily towards Leon.
That's… not him, is it?
Opting not to shoot at the reanimated sheriff, Leon turned around, fleeing through the door and hallway that had led him to the horrific scene.
I've gotta get out of here! Get back up!
As Leon re-entered the store, a dark figure lurched towards him from the ground.
“What the–?!”
Leon quickly leaped to the side and glanced down, stunned to see it was the injured clerk, now just as crazed and wild as the black-haired man and the sheriff.
Oh, that's just great! Why are they all like this?!
Leon rushed past the zombified clerk, leaving him sprawled on the tiled floor as he sprinted through the aisles toward the exit.
“I'm sorry… I couldn't help you,” he apologised, panting heavily.
Leon struggled to push away the pain in his chest. This was the second person he had failed to save tonight.
He could only hope that the number wouldn't get any higher.
A massive metal shelf crashed down, nearly pinning him as he sprinted toward the glass door. Behind the shelf, a loud scream echoed as a pair of worn grey arms reached out, grabbing at him wildly.
“Holy shit!” Leon yelled, stumbling forward and dodging the attack.
Leon gripped Matilda so tightly in his fingers that they felt like they were about to shatter.
How many of them are there? This is spreading like wildfire!
The glass door was just a few feet away, almost within his reach. Just before he could reach it, someone burst through, flinging the door open and smashing it against the wall with a deafening bang.
Seriously! What now?!
Leon instinctively aimed his gun at the new threat, his grip faltering as his racing thoughts overwhelmed him.
That's when he was met with a pair of large frightful eyes and a pleading voice.
“Don't shoot!”
●●●
“You know me, I'll be fine.”
Claire spoke into the phone as rain tapped against the small glass panes of the red phone box she stood in.
“I'll be back as soon as I find Chris.” Claire ended the call, sighing as she stepped out of the booth.
Why does everyone I meet worry about me so much? I don't look or act like a goddamn toddler.
The college student found the call tolerable, but she wasn’t exactly thrilled about the lecture on ‘driving safely’ and ‘hanging around gas stations at night.’
Still, Claire felt it was necessary to let her professor know she’d be missing class for a few days due to a ‘family emergency.’
Claire shook her head slightly. “Why does everyone think I'm going to get in trouble?” she asked herself, smiling.
Surely I can't be that problematic.
The cold night air stung her pretty face, and a bolt of lightning flashed overhead, reminding her to get a move on.
Can't believe I'm out here at this time of night getting my ass soaked by this storm... If only that dumbass answered my calls. Oh well, at least I'm not too far–
BANG… BANG… BANG…
Three shots rang out from inside the store, causing Claire to stop dead in her tracks.
“What the...?” she muttered, turning her head toward the source of the banging.
That definitely wasn't an engine misfiring…
She tried to peer through the glass door, but the store was completely dark inside.
I'm sure it's nothing. Besides, I should really get back to finding–
A deep groan from behind her interrupted that thought.
Claire spun around, sending her auburn ponytail flying over her shoulder with the swift motion.
Her light blue eyes widened as she spotted a bald, bloodied man with a gruesome gash on his face stumbling toward her. Behind him, a group of eerily similar figures lurked, approaching the station.
Okay… that's some creepy-looking makeup. It's impressive… but no thanks.
Claire swallowed nervously, reaching for her modest handgun securely holstered on her leather belt. She was only carrying it around because her brother had instructed her to. That, and she could pull it out to ward off any sketchy figures.
Definitely giving me sketchy vibes…
“Hey bud, mind backing up a bit?” she asked, taking a step back as the man stumbled closer. “Ever heard of this nice little concept called personal space?”
Yeah… he ain't stopping. Ugh… he smells like shit too. How much of a jokester must you be to get a group of people to dress up as a zombie horde?
With a deep breath, she tried again. “Hey asshole! Stand still and rip that mask off! I think you've got your dates mixed up because Halloween is next month!”
Unfortunately for her, the man and the crowd behind him kept closing in, their cries and groans escalating in agitation.
“I told you to stop! Is this some kind of joke?! I'm not laughing over here!”
They pressed on. The bald, grey man loomed just feet away, causing Claire's heart to thump wildly in her chest.
Okay, that's it!
“I have a gun!” she yelled, finally pulling it out of the holster and aiming it directly at the man's head.
Woah, woah, let's cool it here. Just in case they really are messing about... I don't feel like blowing some guy's brains out over an impressive-looking zombie mask.
She inhaled deeply, lowering the gun just enough to target the man's unsteady leg as he staggered closer. It wouldn’t be a fatal shot, but it would definitely stop him in his tracks.
“Last chance!” Claire tried to sound stern, but it came out sounding more like a plea than an order.
None of them stopped or even seemed to recognise what she was saying.
Fuck this…
Claire pulled the trigger, launching a bullet directly through the man's leg and causing him to drop to the concrete ground.
Claire stared in astonishment as the man showed no reaction. He was completely devoid of pain, seemingly oblivious to the injuries on his face and the fresh gunshot wound as he started crawling his way towards her.
No-no-no-no-no… This isn't right!
“Jesus… you really are…”
She avoided saying it, but the truth finally struck her.
You're a zombie. But… No, they're not real. Are they?!
“Oh, fuck all of this!” Claire yelled as she spun around on her heel and bolted towards the station's store, passing a parked Jeep as the horde of rotting people pursued her.
That door better be unlocked!
Claire reached the glass door and frantically threw herself against it, throwing it open with a loud crash.
Thank God. Maybe there are some people in here who could–
Then she saw it…
It was unmistakable – the end of a gun aimed directly at her face.
What little relief had filled her mind vanished into thin air, replaced by pure terror.
“Don't shoot!” she cried, her voice desperate and full of panic, as she threw her hands high into the air in an attempt to prove that she wasn't a threat.
I’m clearly not a crazy rotting person! No need to shoot me, right? ... Please?
Claire swallowed hard, her gaze trembling as it locked onto a pair of intense blue eyes, wide with fear. The man’s face remained hidden in shadow.
Please… Please don't shoot me.
“Get down!” the man ordered, his voice booming.
Without wasting a second, Claire dropped to her knees, squeezing her eyes shut tightly.
If she was about to get shot, she didn't want to see it.
Please, I just want to find my brother!
A deafening bang echoed through the air.
WAIT! I DID WHAT YOU SAID–!
But instead of feeling pain, Claire heard a squelch quickly followed by a raspy groan behind her.
What the…?
Her eyes flew open, and she quickly glanced back, witnessing one of the grey men topple over and crash to the ground, lying motionless as blood spread around him.
Shit. That thing almost had me. All it needed was another second…
“Oh my god…” The words came out so softly that she doubted she had even spoken them.
The man in the store shot a quick look over his shoulder before stepping into the light, his gun held high but not aimed at her.
Claire looked up at the man’s face. He was young, probably not much older than she was. His golden-brown hair and deep blue eyes gave him a boyish look.
He looked scared, yet equally determined.
For what it was worth, it gave her a small sense of hope, and this time, Claire’s heart raced for a different reason.
Boy, am I glad to see a friendly face…
“You alright?” the man asked, glancing down at her briefly before shifting his focus back to the horde of approaching zombies.
Claire pushed herself up from the floor and quickly stepped out of the building beside him.
“Yeah, I think so... Thanks,” she said, glancing over at him while catching her breath.
I really would've been toast right now if it weren't for you. Even if you did aim your gun at me.
“You can thank me later, when we're safe.” The man looked back at her, the expression in his eyes softening.
Claire's lips curled into a faint smile, but it quickly vanished as the horde's groans snapped her back to reality.
“Holy shit.” Claire raised her gun at the large group as they approached, threatening to pin the young woman and her newly found ally against the storefront.
We need to get outta here. Fast! Claire thought frantically, looking around for her bike.
But alas, at least three zombies were blocking her vehicle. One had collapsed onto it while it lay on its side against the concrete.
You've gotta be shittin’ me! I swear to God, if it's dented, I'm gonna–!
A sudden crash startled the duo as a zombie slammed against the glass door behind them, desperately trying to reach the two. Its mouth was a gruesome sight, torn and bloodied, with red splatters covering its cheeks.
Fuck. We're not even safe in the store! Maybe we can find a way up to the roof?
“Come on!” the man shouted, nodding towards a police cruiser with its driver's side door wide open.
“I hope you have the keys!” Claire exclaimed. She blew out a sharp breath and bolted after the young man in a mad dash towards their only hope of escape.
I really don't wanna get eaten…
She saw him duck under a zombie's rotting arms as it tried to grab him, feeling thankful when he made it to the driver's door unharmed.
But there was still a zombie blocking her path to the passenger door.
“Get in!” the man yelled as he jumped in the car, the engine roaring to life.
Well, it looks like he had the keys after all! I won't be on the menu tonight, fuckers!
Claire inhaled deeply, shoving the zombie down and narrowly avoiding the grasp of two others. She seized the handle and yanked the car door open.
Ha! Looks like we're–
“Ah! Shit!”
Before she could leap into the car, she felt a strong tug at the hem of her red leather jacket.
“Eat this!” she yelled.
Claire kicked back with all her might, sending the zombie that had grabbed her sprawling. It hit the concrete with a loud crack as its rotting arm broke. She quickly jumped into the car and slammed the door shut.
Claire let out a quick sigh of relief.
Yeah, not gonna get into any trouble, am I?
The car nearly collided with a group of zombies, but the man skillfully dodged them. Claire was tossed around in her seat, muttering curses as she finally managed to fasten her seatbelt. The man swerved to align with the road and then sped off, leaving their attackers behind as they screamed and snarled.
Claire reclined in the black leather seat, gazing out the window as the bright blue lights of the gas station and their pursuers faded into the distance.
What the fuck was their problem? And... like, they're not actually zombies, right? That's just a movie thing.
Claire inhaled deeply once more before facing the man who had just saved her life, his gaze fixed on the dark road ahead.
“What the hell is going on?” she asked, nearly out of breath.
She hoped he had an answer, and preferably one that was more logical than zombies.
“I don't know…” His voice sounded honest, and she had no reason to doubt him. Still, it was terrifying to think they were both equally clueless and unprepared. “Hopefully, they’ll have some answers at the police station.”
Police station? Thank god, maybe Chris will be there.
Claire whipped her head around, her ponytail flying wildly through the air. A smile threatened to curve on her pink lips.
But what makes him want to go to the station? Well, other than the fact we were just attacked by lunatics… Oh…
“Wait, you're a cop?!” she asked.
He could know Chris! That would be convenient.
"Yeah, Leon Kennedy," he replied, then focused back on the road. Claire thought she saw a brief smile on his handsome face. "And you are?"
“Claire – Claire Redfield,” she answered, turning her gaze to the window and watching raindrops dash down as the storm raged on.
“Live around here?” Leon asked as they turned to face each other, their eyes meeting.
She searched his striking blue eyes. The fear she’d seen before was gone, but there was no calmness either.
“No, I’m looking for my brother. He’s a cop, too,” Claire said, a hint of sadness in her voice.
Hopefully he’s still alive and safe... But what if he… No. Stop worrying. He's safe in the city.
She pushed the dark thought away, swallowing hard and pressing her lips together tightly.
“Well, it’s a good thing we found each other,” Leon sighed, eyes back on the road as tall, wavy trees blurred past. “I… I don’t know what to expect anymore…”
“That makes two of us,” Claire mumbled, slumping back against the car seat.
She turned her attention back to the mirror, checking for any signs of being followed.
They were walking like baby giraffes. I don't think they're going to catch us in this car, Claire.
Thunderous booms rang out in the cold night sky as the newly acquainted pair sped towards a large metal sign on the edge of the road.
It stood tall and proud, displaying the words: ‘Welcome to Raccoon City – Home of Umbrella.’
Out the window, Claire was convinced she saw another group of shadowy figures wandering in the dark as they sped by.
Calm down, Claire. Chris will be at the station or maybe his apartment. Then you can kick his ass for all those missed calls.
She tried to convince herself but only partially succeeded.
Everything felt so uncertain.
I swear to God, you better be safe… You're all I have left, and I'm coming to find you.