Forward:
I have decided to reformat all four stories into one to keep the flow uninterrupted. All the stories are not all from the point of view of one single individual, but each story is unique to someone. Highway to Hell was my first story that I ever wrote and originally was comprised of five separate stories with different lead characters interweaving throughout. I had long since melded those stories and cut out the erroneous sub plots; hence "director's cut". Highway also contains material that some may find offensive, such as male/male innuendo, violence and extreme gore.
Furthermore, I do not own or distribute Resident Evil or claim any royalties.
Introduction to Evil.
Horror exists in our minds, plaguing us with preposterous concepts and images that defy any normal sense of reason. Do the dead ever return? It's horror and terror.
The fear of death, of bodily harm at the hands of some psychopath is terror, the feeling that someone is following you home in the middle of the night, waiting for you to stick your key in the lock, to strike. Fear of being dead, fear of the dead, of deadness, is horror. The idea of death's tangibility. The possibility that death can be seen… this is horror.
It's a great and fundamental irony, that we can fear the dead as much as death. The only thing that horrifies us as much as death, is those who might somehow escape it, or even those who could bring about that escape. It's Frankenstein and his creation, the hideous Monster that terrorizes 'the village'.
Awe is always an element of true horror. Animals feel terror, but they can't experience horror; it's a human sensibility, unique to our way of thinking. Horror informs us that our concepts of reality are incomplete, that something impossible can actually happen. The indescribable and the inexplicable tend to awaken a sort of nebulous panic in us, a suspicion that the universe is even stranger and more uncertain than we ever imagine it can be.
Highway to Hell: Director's CutPrologue: Welcome to the world of survival horror.
June 2000
I was wasting time in the afternoon, waiting for a phone call. I had spent a long time in training, training to become an R.C.M.P. officer and was waiting for the call. A call that would mean a new start on a new career path.
The phone rang and I answered it, my voice quivering slightly.
"Hello?"
"Hey Nate, how's it goin'?"
The caller's voice was recognizable, but I couldn't place it.
"I'm doing good…who is this?"
"It's Devan."
Devan Kincaid, Journalist extraordinaire. At least he thought so. It had been a long time since i had heard from him.
"Nate, I know it's been a while, but I'm coming into the city tomorrow."
I could feel the apprehension in his voice... a nervousness. It had been a long time since we'd last seen each other, yet alone spoke.
"I'd love to see you again… when, will you be in?"
"Two-ish."
I smiled, though I knew he couldn't see it.
"I don't want you to stay at a cheap hotel…. stay here, unless you have other..." he cut me off.
"That'll be great. Hey man, I'll talk to you tomorrow."
Click.
It was strange, I hadn't talked to Dev in over a year, not since he went to do a story somewhere in the states. He told me it was big, involving some pharmaceutical company in a city called 'Raccoon'.
It still hurt when he left, and even worse when he dropped from contact all together.
The phone rang again and I answered, still in a state of shock from Devan's a moment before. It was the call I was waiting for, a call that told me I was hired; when to go down to the R.C.M.P. office and pick up my new uniform, my assignment and a car.
They had told me that I would be doing traffic work along the highway, but that they would give me a car, almost a week ahead of schedule. I still don't know why, but I wasn't going to complain. I guess it's something to do with 'backup'. If they need someone desperately, they can call the 'Rookie', 'cause he's got a car and nothin' to do. Whatever the intent, I'd still do it.
I called a taxi and waited in front of my house, thinking about 'Raccoon'. The cab rolled up and I climbed in, absent-mindedly saying hello to the driver.
What had happened to Raccoon City? I knew it, I just couldn't remember.
It hit me suddenly and I laughed aloud, drawing a strange reaction from the cabbie. Raccoon City was a crater. It was a smoldering hole in the side of the Earth, with enough radiation to put Chernobyl to shame.
The government had done it, something about a virus, Ebola or Anthrax or something.
The car lurched to a stop and the cabby spun to face me in the backseat. "Ten-fifty…"
I gave him eleven dollars, ignoring his attempts to give me change and stepped out of the car.
Entering the main doors, I was greeted by a friendly voice, asking if I could be assisted and I nodded, flashing a quick grin. I said that I had an appointment with Chief Madington and the receptionist smiled, pointing at a door partially ajar.
I spent an hour, talking with the large man as he droned on about procedures and jurisdiction.
I knew all this stuff, but it was obvious that he needed to do it. I wanted to get to work. I wanted my uniform, my weapon and my car, and to get away from this city.
I wanted to be official, but more importantly I needed a new start.
Madington took me on a short tour of the station, ending in a locker room. He opened one and pulled out a uniform and handed it to me. My name had been neatly stencilled on the door and I smiled inwardly. Reaching in again, he pulled out a sidearm and a belt; and placed them on top of the growing pile in my hands.
We walked down a stairwell to the parking lot, our voices echoing distantly around us as shadows crept along the walls from the flickering neon light. In every instance of silence, I would feel a shiver move up my spine and tickle the back of my neck maliciously.
I had the distinct impression of descending into an unknown, an abyss waiting to engulf me in silence. With a shock of stimuli, Madington opened the heavy door and waved me through, letting it slam loudly behind us.
The underground parking lot was big, though most of the spaces were empty, the vehicles out on patrol. After all, it was the job of a Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer to patrol everything outside of the Vancouver Municipal area.
Chief Madington gave me the keys, telling me to pop the trunk. Inside was a sheath with a combat shotgun, ammunition cases, a black vest with RCMP in large white letters on the front as well as a black duffel bag.
"Well Silver," he said to me, "you should get the hell outa this place and get to work. You have to report to the Rock Creek branch office in a few days."
I smiled to him, "Thank you sir. I will."
He turned to leave but paused, turning back to me briefly. I thought he was going to say something, but he just gave me a quick smile and left.
I climbed into the driver's seat, adjusting it, checking my mirrors and slipped the key into the ignition.
I paused.
Something was bothering me and I looked around the front seat nervously. It didn't seem right. Shrugging, I flipped open the glove box and found a note, taped to a gleaming Magnum.
Nate, I can't tell you what you need to know, other than to be careful. –Chief John Madington
This is getting very strange, I thought.
I turned the key, starting the engine and drove home, confused by my circumstances. I was given my own squad car and enough guns to supply an army. I was only a Rookie. Deep down I knew that I didn't deserve any of it. I was to be pulling drunks off the highway and catching speeders in the middle of nowhere, yet it seemed I was being prepared for a war.
I pulled into the driveway of my house and stopped the engine, reaching next to me to gather my uniform from the passenger seat and stepped out of the car, locking it with the push of a button on the key ring.
I went straight upstairs exhausted, cradling the black and beige bundle in my arms and set it down on a chair next to where I set the Magnum down on my night table.
Devan would be here the next afternoon and in spite of my nagging sense of dread and surprise over the gleaming gift- it was late and I needed some sleep.
He had arrived earlier than expected, catching me off guard. The doorbell rang and I had jumped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist, grabbing my watch and my glasses.
Eleven-thirty.
I opened the door and smiled, greeted by the handsome blonde.
"Nathan!!" he beamed, wrapping his arms around me in a friendly embrace.
I held him at arm's length and smiled, looking him over. "Come in, make yourself at home, there's coffee if you want, and even some breakfast that you could warm up…if you're hungry."
He smiled, walking into the kitchen.
"So how did it go, with Chief…'what's his name'?"
I chuckled, "It went great, got my assignment in…" Dev cut me off.
"Rock Creek…."
My jaw dropped. "How did you know that?" I paused, thinking it over for a moment. "And how did you know about the Chief?"
Devan returned to the living room with a steaming mug in his hand.
"I'm going too."
"You are?"
"That police Chief called me…"
"Madington?"
"Yeah. He said that he was sending you and that he wanted me to go, because I knew something about what was going on."
I was confused. Why had Madington contacted Dev?
He continued, "I had a meeting with him this morning. He gave me a black duffel bag and an envelope, telling me not to open it, until I arrived there."
"This is getting weirder and weirder."
Dev nodded, agreeing.
"But then I opened the duffel bag and found guns…even a flak jacket."
I turned to him, "He gave me much of the same, last night…" I stopped and looked myself over, and shook my head with a chuckle. "Pardon me a moment…I should probably put some clothes on..."
Dev smiled mischievously, "Or maybe I should just take mine off."
I could feel the blood racing to my cheeks as I turned away, laughing nervously.
As I ascended the stairs, I could feel Devan's eyes on me, watching me. I didn't even need to look. I just knew.
In my room, I sat on my bed, running my fingers through my dark hair. It was getting longer than I preferred and though it wasn't shaggy, it wasn't exactly regulation for a new recruit.
Dev's never been one to let it grow out, I found myself thinking. He likes his hair short, almost shaved right down, but it suits him. In fact, it looks real good on him.
"Hey Nate?"
I jumped, caught off-guard by Devan's stealthy entry and my musings trailed off.
"Yeah?"
"When are we leaving?"
I turned to the welcomed intruder, unable to answer and I shrugged. "I don't know. I have four days until I need to be there."
"Can we leave tonight?"
I grinned, "Yeah. Why?"
He smiled back. "Still not dressed, eh?"
I laughed, reaching for a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, standing with my back to him as I slipped into them. I didn't see Devan sneaking up behind me and didn't anticipate him to put his arms around me. I turned in his embrace and he kissed me. The type of kiss that everyone wants to experience. Passionate... and long.
"I missed you, Dev. I'm so happy you're back."
He smiled, looking into my blue eyes and leading me to the bed where we fell on top of each other and continued the kiss. Our hands began to explore the areas we had forgotten and time seemed to slow down.
Eternity passed and the pleasure faded, replaced by the intoxication of the moment. My body was unwilling to move, my energy depleted, yet I was full of a vigour, which compelled me to sit up.
I looked at Dev laying next to me, naked, though the lower half of his body hidden beneath the sheets on my bed.
"We should get ready..." I said to him, stroking the bare skin of his back as he lay on his stomach, "Dev…" I paused, but he knew what I was feeling. He smiled to me, as if I was the only living thing for miles.
I stood up and Devan stirred as well. "That thing is huge!"
I struggled to maintain myself and looked over at him on the bed, staring at the gun on the bedside table. I laughed. "Yeah... I guess it is, isn't it?"
Devan slipped into clothes he had taken from my closet and I threw on a pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt that clung to my frame.
"Didn't bring enough clothes of your own?" I asked with a snicker, as he slipped a belt through the loops of the black jeans.
He smiled at me as if to answer. It was that smile which freezes me in place, though with a warmth, unparallelled to anything I had ever experienced before.
I sat down on the bed next to Dev and laced my hiking boots, while he put on his.
It felt as though I was lost in a dream and prayed to never wake from it. I stood up and grabbed the Magnum from the side table and slipped it under the belt on my jeans, careful that the safety was on. After grabbing the last of my things, we made our way back to the living room.
Devan took my hand, entwining his fingers with my own and stroked my hand with his thumb.
"Let's go."
I
threw my suitcase into the back seat and we climbed into the car. I
placed the weapon in the center console and started the engine and as
I pulled out of the driveway, rain started to lightly pelt the
windshield in intricate patterns.
~~
Driving was difficult, but I managed the vehicle on the slick road as it grew steadily darker and darker, all the while making idle chit chat with Devan.
I was heading over to my parents' house, to say goodbye to them, before I left and when we turned the corner, I panicked.
I could see the house, two Vancouver PD squad cars parked on the front lawn.
I stopped the car on the road and grabbed the gun, dashing out of the vehicle and skidding across the wet grass.
Gunshots pierced the night.
BLAM BLAM BLAM!
I started to freak out.
The front door was open, revealing the darkness beyond. In the middle of the front hall, my father lay still, surrounded by a pool of blood.
My heart pounded so hard I could barely swallow.
I cautiously walked forward and found an Officer, wounded, rambling about a big man in a coat, killing with his bare hands.
His account was interrupted by a cough and blood trickled from his lips. After another cough, he died.
I held the gun tightly, moving through the dining room. I found my mother.
I struggled to keep the tears down. She was dead. Worse than dead, she was mutilated, crushed by some unknown assailant.
I could almost sense the other presence before I heard the footsteps and the hairs rose on the back of my neck.
A Policeman entered the dining room, opposite from me.
"Hold it!" He shouted.
I held my hands up with the weapon in plain sight. "I'm RCMP. This is MY family."
He paused, taken aback. "I'm sorry…" He trailed off, unable to meet my gaze as I slowly pulled my badge from my pocket.
He cleared his throat, "He got away. Backup has been requested… leave this to us, you have your own job and you can't help them from here."
I wanted to deck him. My family was dead and he wanted me to have nothing to do with it. Unfortunately, he was right. He was City Police and I was out of my jurisdiction, but it stung to be set aside, not able to take part in this.
I walked back outside, my soul destroyed. I stepped off the front porch and collapsed to my knees on the wet grass and started to sob.
I don't know when, but I felt Devan's arms around me. He was warm in the cold rain, a fire on a winter's day.
He helped me to the car and slipped me into the passenger seat. He didn't ask he only drove.
They were dead... Savagely murdered.
I was so tired. I wanted to sleep, hoping that when I woke up that it would all have been a horrible dream and nothing more.
Devan had stopped at a Motel in the Fraser Valley and took me to a room, leading me inside.
He sat me down on the bed, pulling the gun from my grip and I hadn't even realized that I was still holding it. I had held on to the weapon for over an hour and letting it go left my knuckles stinging.
He sat down next to me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into his and I started to cry.
I don't know how long we sat like that, but my mind seemed to snap back into reality and I blinked hard, reaching for my glasses that Dev had set aside.
I looked into his green eyes then hugged him tightly. I didn't want to let go. I felt that if I let him go, he would disappear from my life and I would be lost in this horrible nightmare alone.
I managed to calmed down, Devan sitting next to me with the manila envelope in his hands. "Let's see what this is."
He opened it began to read it, occasionally pausing to read over a line again. "This can't be right."
I looked at him, puzzled.
He was shocked, and looked at me, attempting to put his thoughts to words.
"Umbrella…"
I didn't understand.
"Raccoon city incident…Umbrella Incorporated…" he trailed off.
It slowly fell into place, the story of the city, nuked by the US government because of a viral outbreak.
"Nate, there's an Umbrella facility somewhere in Rock Creek…Vancouver was a test site!"
A million thoughts stirred in my mind. "A test site? For what?"
He started to read further, flipping through pages, "I don't know…" he paused.
"What?"
"Nate…my article on Raccoon is in here. It was pulled from the papers by the US Government."
"So…"
He looked at me, "I was right…the virus was man-made. Biological weapons."
I was shocked.
"Why us then? Why me?"
"I don't know, Nathan."
My cell phone started to ring. "Hello?"
It was Madington.
"Nate, I'm sorry about your folks, but the city is overrun."
"Overrun? By what?"
"Get away from Van-" the line went dead.
I hung up my phone and turned to Dev, "What the hell is going on?"
A woman screamed.
I jumped up, grabbing my gun and heading for the door with Devan following close behind. Once outside, he grabbed his gun from the car and we proceeded to the registration office curious and afraid.
Inside, we stopped dead in our tracks. I blinked to make sure I was truly seeing what was in front of me.
A woman, the desk clerk, was on the floor dead, crowded by three men. They were eating her, tearing at the flesh of her arms and legs. Blood was everywhere and the stink of it hung in the air.
"Hold it!" I screamed the words loudly, but the men responded slowly, rising to their feet.
This wasn't right.
I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. The men looked dead, their skin hanging off of their bones, their clothes ragged and torn.
I held my gun stiffly at eye-level as one of them moved toward me, snarling. Then the smell hit me, the stench of decaying flesh and I fought back the urge to throw up.
I fired.
The thing kept advancing, only momentarily slowed by the impact of the bullet.
I took aim again and pulled the trigger, disintegrating its head; the body falling to the ground limp.
I felt the rush of adrenaline and aimed again, firing at the second one, splattering red against the far wall.
It felt wrong... horrible.
I heard Dev fire and watched the last one fall, headless. Blood was everywhere and the room was thick with the smell of burnt gunpowder and gore.
What was happening? Zombies weren't real. They were bits of fiction, words on paper… actors on screen. They were not real... it was impossible.
When I was growing up, my parents always told me that there weren't any monsters… any real monsters. Even if I woke up at three in the morning, scared to death to get off my bed, thinking that some creature lurked in the darkness beneath my mattress, my parents would always convince me that there was nothing.
No monsters. Monsters They weren't real, only fodder for cheesy B-movies, nothing more.
Why did my parents tell me that?
Why had they lied to me?
There were monsters and they were everywhere.