Out of Time and Out of Luck
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Resident Evil, yadda, yadda.
Chapter 1: Tara
The streets are always dark this time of night, not because the sun is down, but because Raccoon is a backwater hick town with maybe two street lights between the Apple Inn, where Tara works, and Jay's Bar, where she's going. The streets are always damp with puddles strewn about everywhere, so her leather boots probably won't last the week. To Tara this is just a momentary stay.
She craves the city with enormous crowds every which way, tall buildings with ever-present lights in every window, turning night into day. To her, this town won't do at all. Of course, the big city has some flaws, such as in one night someone could get into your condo, and take everything you have. This is why she's even here in the first place. The cheap rent will allow her to save up enough to start over. Then it's back to the limelight areas she's used to.
Tara herself is a medium height and weight brunette, with a provocative yellow top and black skirt. Her black leather boots tap on the watery streets with every step, especially the wooden slab that is supposed to serve as a "pot-hole cover".
"Jesus, this place is just..." Tara is trying to think of a proper demeaning comment, but comes up empty.
The staircase and bridge leading down to Main Street seems pretty well maintained, though. It's long way around, the the hustle and bustle of traffic puts her at ease when compared to the quiet and serene alleyways. It takes her until she's at the bottom of the stone steps to notice that the cars aren't moving.
"What's going on? Someone find something to do around here?" Tara asks herself cynically.
She passes by a sickening green colored panel wagon, and sees that there's no one inside. She moves to the next one...empty. She repeats this process until she gets to a blue SUV with the doors open. She sees a man lying half in, half out of the backseat door.
"Hey! Are you alright?" She yells to him, but gets a low moan in response.
"Do you need an ambulance or anything?" She yells again, and again the moaning.
She walks over to him and he sort of stirs, but stays in his laying position. She gets right next to him, and kneels down.
"Mister, I-" She is interrupted by the man instantly springing to life, grabbing her by the shoulders, and forcing her to the ground. She now sees that this man is definitely not alright, but has an enormous wound in his chest that is clearly visible though his flannel jacket and torn open white t-shirt. Also, chunks of his arms are missing, and his face has scratches from something trying to pull it off.
Whatever did this to him doesn't concern her at this point. Getting him off of her and getting some distance is. Tara does everything she can to move him. She tries pushing, and pulling. She uses her free legs to knee him in that wound in his chest. Nothing seems to work.
She knees him one more time with everything she has, and it shifts the man's weight just enough to get one of her shoulders free, and uses it to deliver a hard left to that open wound, and is shocked as it goes right through to the back of his rib cage.
The man is still unphased, even with Tara's arm sticking into his chest like a spear. The man pushes his weight to the left to get her shoulder back down, but Tara pulls in the same direction to use the momentum to roll over on top of him. She pulls her arm out of the man's chest and hops off. The man reaches for her again, but she has already taken off back up the steps not looking back until she reaches the middle of the bridge to see that more people have gathered around, probably drawn by the commotion.
They are not walking to him, exactly, but rather awkwardly stumbling to the scene of the fight. The man she fought is rising to his feet, and Tara is amazed when she realizes he's trying to follow her. Not only that, but the rest of the small crowd that had gathered are also making for the stairs. She darts off to the other end of the bridge.
"There are still normal people at the Inn. I have to get there." She thinks out loud.
She gets to the the other stair case that leads down to the Inn's front entrance, and sees a little girl trying to crawl out though an open window.
"Please, hel-" The girl's troubled plea is interrupted when she is yanked back into the window, like she's been sucked into a vacuum cleaner. Tara rushes to the window, and almost pukes. A man and a woman have the girl in a tug-of-war. The man has an arm, and the woman has a leg. Tara can only sit and watch as they rip and tear at her until the arm comes off at the elbow in a geyser of blood. The woman falls down when the arm comes off, losing her grip on the girl's leg, allowing her to run back to the window.
"Come on!" Tara shrieks to her. "Grab my hand!"
The girl does as is instructed, so Tara can pull her out. Then she realizes her own little crowd from Main Street will be catching up soon. The girl's screaming isn't helping that cause any. Anyone in Raccoon could pinpoint them with her going off like that, but Tara forgives her, due to the fact her arm is missing and she's pouring blood all over the stone steps. Tara takes her top off to attempt to wrap what's left of the girl's arm. She doesn't like the idea of showing off her purple bra, but it's an emergency.
The girl can't think straight she's frozen in terror and disbelief, so Tara has to pick her up and carry her down the steps, and toward the Apple Inn.
"Don't worry. There's a phone at the Inn. We can get you an ambulance there." Tara says to console both the girl and herself.
They are almost at the Inn, when more of them show up, stumbling down the road they are crossing. Luckily, the "people" are far enough away for them to make it to the heavy doors of the Apple Inn. She has to put the girl down for a second to open the door.
For something that walks like it downed a gallon of vodka, these things are making pretty good time. Tara quickly grabs the girl while holding the door open with her foot, brings her in, and slams the door shut. Whatever these people have become arrive just as Tara clicks the dead bolts locked. That doesn't mean that they give up, however. They pound the door with their open palms, trying in vain to get it open.
Beat on that all you like, mother fuckers, Tara thinks to herself.
She lays the girl, who is now unconscious, down on a wooden table in the middle of the lobby. After a quick breather, she realizes how quiet and empty the Inn is. There's no one working the counter. The security guard who is usually reading the paper in the corner isn't there, although there is a half eaten box of pizza sitting on his chair. Not even the guests are making a peep, that is, assuming they are still here...and alive.
She makes her way to the phone, and dials 911. There is only dial tone. She looks over to the girl she had just attempted to save, and releases a defeated sigh.
I can at least make her last moments as comfortable as I can, she tries not to think, but can't stop it.
She brings the pizza to the table, just in case the girl wakes up before she passes. If she does, Tara will need something to console her, anything. The bleeding hasn't slowed down. Tara feels the girl's head. It's dead cold. The only good thing about the girl's condition is that she's still breathing normally.
Please make it fast. Please God, make it fast, Tara pleads.
She runs her fingers through the girl's mid-length, blonde hair to move it from her face, and waits, wondering if it would be more merciful to finish her off quickly, or to just let her pass on in her sleep, and hope that she's not in any pain right now.