Nothing here belongs to me! I take no credit. This is based on The Walking Dead which was created by Robert Kirkman, Tony Moore and Charlie Adlard, and made into a tv series by Frank Darabont. I added the characters of Resident Evil which belong to Capcom and were created by Shinki Mikami e Tokuro Fujiwara.

Observations:

a) Kmart's real name is Dahlia Julia Mancini;

b) the Redfields live in Harvardville, a small town near Raccoon City;

c) basically none of the characters will have the jobs they have in the game, except Chris who's still part of the S.T.A.R.S. Team;

d) I'll try to use every single character I can, but they'll come slowly and not all at once;

e) I got some things from S. D. Perry's books;

f) Claire and Kmart are gay, yes, that's right;

g) I'l add more things here as they come to me. Be patient and enjoy it.

Harvardville, June

The mutilated body of forty-two-year-old Anna Mitaki was discovered late yesterday in an abandoned lot not far from her home in northwest Raccoon City, making her the fourth victim of the supposed 'cannibal killers' to be found in or near the Victory Lake district in the last month. Consistent with the coroner reports of the other recent victims, Mitaki's corpse showed evidence of having been partially eaten, the bite patterns apparently formed by human jaws. Shortly after the discovery of Miss Mitaki by two joggers at approximately nine o'clock last night, the police chief made a brief statement insisting that the RPD is 'working diligently to apprehend the perpetrators of such heinous crimes' and that he is currently consulting with city officials about more drastic protection measures for Raccoon citizens. In addition to the murderous spree of the cannibal killers, three others have died from probable animal attacks in Raccoon Forest in the past several weeks, bringing the toll of mysterious deaths up to…

Claire Redfield stopped reading and put the newspaper on the table where she was having breakfast with her girlfriend. Dahlia, whom everyone called K-mart, seemed always prettier like that in Claire's eyes: just out of bed, without makeup, her hair messy, wearing her worn pajamas and rubbing her eyes with sleep.

"Why did you stop reading?" she demanded to know. K-mart always demanded everything and never accepted half-terms or incomplete things. With her, it was all or nothing.

"Because it's goes on like yesterday and the day before. They'll never stop it. It's embarrassing what's happening in Raccoon City and it bothers me that Chris has to go with these incompetents." Claire tried to look indifferent. She couldn't let her feelings take over. She couldn't remember a time when it hadn't been like that. She never liked to share what she felt. With K-mart and Chris she could reveal some things, but even so, Claire never let them see it all.

"Maybe Chris' exactly what they need. Maybe he'll go there and fix everything. Maybe he'll be back before you can miss him."
"And maybe he'll die on an impossible mission." Claire didn't mean to sound so melodramatic, but she couldn't help herself either. She didn't want Chris to go. The S.T.A.R.S. (Special Tactics and Rescue Service) Team had given him full leave for the next two years but now, because of the bizarre events that no one seemed to be able to unravel, they had decided to ask for the help of the best agent they had ever had.

Not that Claire didn't appreciate the opportunity to save the lives of others. She knew how important it was, her brother's job. But the timing wasn't right. For Claire, there was a time, a way, a place for everything. And it wasn't yet time for Chris to go back to Raccoon City. Something bad would happen if he went back before his time.

K-mart shot her a look of sympathy and love. It was one of those looks that should be forbidden because they left Claire unsure of what to say, and made her heart beat out of rhythm. No one had ever looked at her like that before K-mart. Chris was perhaps the kindest guy in the universe (definitely the only guy Claire would love in this lifetime), but he was just as closed up emotionally as his sister, and getting the two of them to exchange any kind of affectionate gesture was a big deal.

"Chris knows how to take care of himself," K-mart said. "If anyone does, it's him."

Claire shook her head. "It's not just him. There's… There's us."

"And we'll be fine."

"And Jessica?" Claire met Dahlia's eyes. "Is she going to be fine?"

K-mart blinked a few times and Claire realized she was trying to consider the situation from another angle, from Jessica's angle. Jessica was Chris' girlfriend. They had been together for a short time only, but had already decided to move in together (Jessica was probably forcing Chris' hand on this, if Claire knew her brother), and Claire suspected they (Jessica) were considering the possibility of starting a family. Now he'd be leaving and Jessica would stay alone in that big house where she would have to keep her dreams in a drawer as she waited for him to come back. If he ever did.

"We can take care of one another," K-mart decided at last. "Like I said, maybe Chris will sort it all out and come back soon. I have faith in him."

"You have faith in everyone," Claire murmured more in wonder than criticism, but K-mart didn't seem to hear her; she was lost in an exciting speech about how they should enjoy Chris' last day with him. Partying. Loving. Having fun. Doing all the things Claire would miss so much after he was gone.

Raccoon City, a few days later

With the reported disappearance of three hikers in Raccoon Forest earlier this week, city officials have finally called for a roadblock on rural Route 6 at the foothills of the Arklay Mountains. The police chief announced yesterday that the S.T.A.R.S. will participate full-time in the search for the hikers and will also be working closely with the RPD until there is an end to the rash of murders and disappearances that are destroying our community. When asked why the S.T.A.R.S. hadn't been assigned to these cases until now, the chief would only say that the S.T.A.R.S. have been assisting the RPD since the beginning and that they would be a 'welcome addition' to the task force currently working on the murders full-time. Founded in 1967, the S.T.A.R.S. organization was originally created as a measure against cult-affiliated terrorism by a group of retired military officials and ex-field operatives from both the CIA and FBI. Under the guidance of former NSDA (National Security and Defense Agency), the group quickly expanded its services to include everything from hostage negotiation and code breaking to riot control. Working with local police agencies, each branch office of the S.T.A.R.S. is designed to work as a complete unit itself.

Chris Redfield sighed inwardly before getting into the helicopter that would take him to his first mission back in with the S.T.A.R.S. Team. He had come of his own accord; contrary to some that thought he'd been summoned, Chris had actually volunteered for this. But he wasn't happy about the way things were being done. He was surprised they would be sending Alpha and Bravo Team in separately. Although it was standard procedure, this wasn't exactly a standard operation. The number of deaths they were dealing with alone was enough to call for a more aggressive offense. The fact that there were signs of organization to the murders should have brought it to A1 status, but the case was still being treated as some sort of training run.

Nobody else saw it… They hadn't known Billy…

Chris thought again about the night call he had received from his childhood friend. He hadn't heard from Billy in a while, but knew that he'd taken a research position with Umbrella, the pharmaceutical company that was the single biggest contributor to the economic prosperity of Raccoon City. Billy had never been the type to jump at shadows, and the terrified desperation in his voice had jolted Chris awake, filling him with deep concern. Billy had babbled that his life was in danger, that they were all in danger, begged Chris to meet him at a diner at the edge of town and then never showed up.

No one had heard from him since.

Chris had run it over and over again in his mind during the sleepless nights since Billy's disappearance, trying to convince himself that there was no connection to the attacks on Raccoon City and yet was unable to shake his growing certainty that there was more going on than met the eye, and that Billy had known what it was. The cops had checked out Billy's apartment and found nothing to indicate foul play… but Chris' instincts told him that his friend was dead, and that he'd been killed by somebody who wanted to keep him from talking.

And Chris seemed to be the only one who cared.

He pushed the thoughts aside as he got into the helicopter. He had to focus, to keep his mind on what he could do to find out why Billy had disappeared, but he was exhausted, running on a minimum of sleep and an almost constant anxiety that had plagued him since Billy's call. Maybe he was losing his perspective, his objectivity dulled by recent events…

He forced himself not to think about anything at all as he neared the place of the mission.

"WHAT?" At the sound of the speaker's high voice, Chris turned to him, along with everyone else. He was agitated, one hand pressed to the earpiece of his set. "Bravo Team, report. Repeat, Bravo Team, report!"

The captain ordered him to put it on 'com. He tapped the switch on his console and the bright, stunning sound of static filled the room. Chris strained to hear a human voice amidst the fuzz, but for several tense seconds, there was nothing.

Then: "…you copy? Malfunction, we're going to have to…"

The rest was lost in a burst of static. Chris felt stunned, saw the feeling reflected in the faces of the others. The helicopter's transmitter was designed to keep working no matter what. The only way it would shut down was if something big happened.

Something like a crash.

"Position?" the captain wanted to know.

"They're in, uh, sector twenty-two, tail end of C," the interlocutor replied.

Chris felt his stomach knot as he recognized the coordinates.

The Spencer Mansion.

Could it be a coincidence? The Bravos were in trouble, and practically on top of the old Umbrella mansion.

There was a slight dip in their altitude as the pilot adjusted the rotor pitch. The ragged outskirts of Raccoon Forest slipped by below. Twilight was finally setting in, the forest growing heavy with shadow.

"ETA… three minutes," the interlocutor said and Chris looked around the cabin, noting the silent, grim expressions of his teammates. Then he stared out at the seemingly endless sea of trees as the helicopter skimmed lower, forcing his full attention to the search. The Spencer Mansion had to be close, though he couldn't see it in the fading light. Thoughts of Billy and Umbrella circled through his exhaustion, trying to break his focus, but Chris refused to give in.

Then he saw it less than a mile away, an oily plume of black smoke boiled up through the last remnants of daylight, staining the sky like a promise of death.

As they neared the plume of smoke, the helicopter's whirling blades pushed it down and out, creating a black fog that blended into the heavy shadows of the trees. Any chance of spotting the downed vehicle from the air was lost to the smoke and dusk. The pilot settled the bird into a scrappy patch of tall grass. Even as the rails wobbled to the ground, Chris had his hand on the latch, ready to move out.

They spread and began to search. They moved quickly through the wooded area, visibility dropping off sharply beneath the needled branches. From the dim light filtering toward them, Chris saw that there was another clearing ahead, high with brittle grasses. They emerged from the copse of trees, and found the Bravo Team helicopter. No one spoke as they surveyed the scene. The long, wide body of the 'copter was intact, not a single scratch visible. The port landing rail looked bent, but besides that and the dying haze of smoke from the rotor, there seemed to be nothing wrong with it. The hatches stood open, the cabin undamaged. From what Chris could see, most of Bravo's gear was still on board.

So where were they?

It didn't make any sense. If anyone had been injured, they would have stayed. And if they'd decided to leave, why had they left their equipment behind?

Chris scanned the thick ground cover. In another few moments, it'd be too dark to see anything. He stopped suddenly, listening. They were in the woods, in the middle of summer; where were the animals, the insects? The forest was unnaturally still, the only sounds human. For the first time since they'd set down, Chris was afraid.

He was about to call out to the others when someone shouted first from somewhere behind them: "Over here!"

Chris turned and started jogging back. In the murky light, he could just make out the shadowy form of one of his teammates, crouched down in the high grass near some trees a hundred feet past the 'copter. His friend stood up, holding something, and let out a strangled scream before dropping it, his eyes wide with horror, and for a split-second, Chris' mind couldn't accept what it had seen in his grasp.

A S.T.A.R.S. handgun, a Beretta.

And a disembodied human hand curled around it, hacked off at the wrist.

There was a deep, guttural snarl from behind his friend, from the darkness of the trees. An animal, growling joined by another rasping, throaty shriek and suddenly dark, powerful shapes erupted from the woods, lunging at the S.T.A.R.S. Team member and taking him down. Chris drew his weapon and stopped in his tracks, trying to get a clear shot at the raging beasts that were attacking his friend.

The captain's penlight sent a thin beam dancing over the writhing creatures, illuminating a nightmare.

The body was now all but hidden by the three animals that tore at him, ripping at him with gnashing, dripping jaws. They were the size and shape of dogs, as big as German shepherds maybe, except that they seemed to have no fur, no skin. Wet, red sinew and muscle flashed beneath the wavering light, the dog-creatures shrieking and snapping in a frenzy of bloodlust.

The Alpha Team member cried out, a burbling, liquid sound as he flailed weakly at the savage attackers, blood pouring from multiple wounds. It was the scream of a dying man. There was no time to waste; Chris targeted and opened fire. Three rounds smacked wetly into one of the dogs, a fourth shot going high. There was a single, high-pitched yelp and the beast went down, its sides heaving. The other two animals continued their assault, indifferent to the thunderous shots. And, as Chris watched horrified, his partner, or what was left of his partner, started to stir, to get up, although he was so obviously dead.

Chris staggered back, his thoughts racing in time with his hammering heart.

Dead, that thing was the walking goddamn dead!

The cannibal attacks in Raccoon, all of them near the forest. Chris had seen enough late-night movies to know what he was looking at, but he still couldn't believe it.

Zombies.

No, no way, that was fiction. But maybe some kind of a disease, mimicking the symptoms?

"Run!" someone suggested and the others didn't hesitate to obey. They stumbled and dodged through the woods, tripping on uneven ground as the killer dogs came on. Chris saw their salvation through the thinning shadows of trees, the Spencer Mansion back-lit by an early moon, and ran in that direction, praying that the others would follow. It looked abandoned from the outside, the weathered wood and stone of the giant mansion crumbling and dark. The full size of the structure was cloaked by the shadowy, overgrown hedges that surrounded it. A massive outset front porch presented double doors, their only option for escape.

Chris reached the doors first, slamming into the heavy wood with one shoulder as he snatched at the handles. Amazingly, they crashed open; brightness spilled out across the stone steps to the porch, lighting their path. Chris turned and started firing, providing cover as the other three gasping men ran for the opening behind him. The Alpha Team piled into the entrance hall and Chris threw his bulk against the door, wedging it closed against the snarls of the creatures.

They had made it.

And now that they were here, Chris silently wondered if they were any better off inside than out…