(Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, don't own RE or its characters. Blah Blah
Blah, enjoy the story.)
Nevada-
8 miles West of Las Vegas . . .
A man with blonde hair, a blue shirt, and tattered black jeans sits inside a dusty gray jeep. His feet dangling out the driver's side as his head sits silently on the window of the passenger side. Sleeping soundly, he doesn't seem to notice the three decayed figures stumbling towards his vehicle. The figures get closer and their eyes widen, seeing the food inside. They get closer and closer, so silently, not emitting any type of a sound except for the crunching sand under their feet. They reach the jeep, hastily looking for a way in. The man sleeps on, not noticing his attackers. One puts its face up to the window where the man's head is propped upon, wanting, craving for one little bite of this newly found food. One climbs up on the hood and goes for the top of the car, hoping that is a way in. The other sees the man's feet dangling out the side and quickly stumbles to them. The man doesn't notice, he is still sleeping, not a care in the world. Exhaustion had overtaken him and now he will pay the price for sleeping on the job. The thing grabs one foot, throws its head back making a long droning moan and dives in for the bite.
Minutes before . . .
Another man, wearing an Army brown T-shirt and baggy black pants lies atop a rock structure 200 ft behind the jeep. He looks ahead, seeing the three undead shuffling towards it. Smiling, the man reaches behind himself and pulls up an old sniper's rifle. He bends his head down, looking through the scope, and starts to sing silently to himself.
"I see a red door and I want to paint it . . . black." He fires at the one readying itself to bite its victim's dangling leg, blowing its face away. "No colors anymore I want them to turn . . . black." He fires again, hitting the one on the top of the car straight through the mouth, leaving only the bottom half of the jaw. Seeing the one on the passenger's side start to stumble away, he gets up and pulls a shotgun from a holster on his back. He quickly paces himself towards the thing while singing loudly "I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes!" He fires, but since the gun's range is limited, the monster doesn't fall, merely gets pushed back. The man then gets a crazy look in his eye and sings on. "I have to turn my head until my darkness goes!" He fires again, this time letting the thing get the full force of the shot. Its head explodes instantly.
He stops singing, strolls over to the jeep and taps on the now sprayed with rotting flesh window. The man wakes up instantly and pulls out the headphones from his ears. The music playing was at top volume. He rolls the window down, looks at the bodies lying around his car and in a tired tone asks "Problems?"
"No, just the usual. replies the other guy. Now scoot over." The guy in the jeep scoots over and starts it up. The other man looks down and cautiously steps over the pieces of dead flesh as he sits down in the vehicle. Eyeing the CB radio, he picks it up and speaks into it. "This is John and Mitch, three bogies taken down, and we are requesting a return to base, over. A loud, southern accent comes over the radio.
"Request granted you are cleared for return, over and out."
"You heard him, John says calmly. Lets go."
Mitch pushes the jeep into drive and they speed off towards Sin City.
Nevada-
8 miles West of Las Vegas . . .
A man with blonde hair, a blue shirt, and tattered black jeans sits inside a dusty gray jeep. His feet dangling out the driver's side as his head sits silently on the window of the passenger side. Sleeping soundly, he doesn't seem to notice the three decayed figures stumbling towards his vehicle. The figures get closer and their eyes widen, seeing the food inside. They get closer and closer, so silently, not emitting any type of a sound except for the crunching sand under their feet. They reach the jeep, hastily looking for a way in. The man sleeps on, not noticing his attackers. One puts its face up to the window where the man's head is propped upon, wanting, craving for one little bite of this newly found food. One climbs up on the hood and goes for the top of the car, hoping that is a way in. The other sees the man's feet dangling out the side and quickly stumbles to them. The man doesn't notice, he is still sleeping, not a care in the world. Exhaustion had overtaken him and now he will pay the price for sleeping on the job. The thing grabs one foot, throws its head back making a long droning moan and dives in for the bite.
Minutes before . . .
Another man, wearing an Army brown T-shirt and baggy black pants lies atop a rock structure 200 ft behind the jeep. He looks ahead, seeing the three undead shuffling towards it. Smiling, the man reaches behind himself and pulls up an old sniper's rifle. He bends his head down, looking through the scope, and starts to sing silently to himself.
"I see a red door and I want to paint it . . . black." He fires at the one readying itself to bite its victim's dangling leg, blowing its face away. "No colors anymore I want them to turn . . . black." He fires again, hitting the one on the top of the car straight through the mouth, leaving only the bottom half of the jaw. Seeing the one on the passenger's side start to stumble away, he gets up and pulls a shotgun from a holster on his back. He quickly paces himself towards the thing while singing loudly "I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes!" He fires, but since the gun's range is limited, the monster doesn't fall, merely gets pushed back. The man then gets a crazy look in his eye and sings on. "I have to turn my head until my darkness goes!" He fires again, this time letting the thing get the full force of the shot. Its head explodes instantly.
He stops singing, strolls over to the jeep and taps on the now sprayed with rotting flesh window. The man wakes up instantly and pulls out the headphones from his ears. The music playing was at top volume. He rolls the window down, looks at the bodies lying around his car and in a tired tone asks "Problems?"
"No, just the usual. replies the other guy. Now scoot over." The guy in the jeep scoots over and starts it up. The other man looks down and cautiously steps over the pieces of dead flesh as he sits down in the vehicle. Eyeing the CB radio, he picks it up and speaks into it. "This is John and Mitch, three bogies taken down, and we are requesting a return to base, over. A loud, southern accent comes over the radio.
"Request granted you are cleared for return, over and out."
"You heard him, John says calmly. Lets go."
Mitch pushes the jeep into drive and they speed off towards Sin City.