LEON

Seeking Asylum

The corridor is very lonely. Has it always been like this - Or is it just a figment of my imagination? It's like walking through the inside of a chrome container, yet the walls don't reflect back.
Being committed is not the most enjoyable of experiences as you could guess. Everything echoes. It did echo, sorry I'm speaking in the wrong tense.
It was probably late evening when the Director of the Burkitt Mental Asylum decided that I was a deluded schizophrenic, even though I knew otherwise. I was perfectly sane. I still am.
"You see Mr. Kennedy..." the fifty-something man with thinning grey hair atop a kindly old face that could have belonged to my old English teacher "...We have views here in the Burkitt Mental Asylum, and we have an especially strong view on cases like yours"
I sighed, and said for the fiftieth time
"I'm NOT insane"
"Of COURSE you're not" the director, Malone I think his name was, had said with more than a little sarcasm permeating his voice "But we do tend to see many people who claim that the end of the world is nigh, who claim all kinds of things - What is it you ranted about...A mutant virus?"
"Yes, the T-Virus" I was annoyed by his use and emphasis of the word 'rant'.
"And...it turns people into zombies, yes?"
"We've been through all this!" I snapped, I'd been through an extremely thorough interrogation disguised as a friendly chat conducted by his head attendant whose name was Horowitz.
His questions had been more than slightly patronising, and were designed specifically to bang me up in the nuthouse - Which is precisely what had happened.
"Mr. Kennedy - we have received assurance from our backers that you are acutely paranoid and deluded, which is how you got here in the first place"
"These 'backers' of yours are Umbrella Incorporated, right?"
The old man's face turned to steel.
"We are not at liberty to release such information, but they are trained doctors and psychologists"
I had sat there with the old guy, bound to a wheelchair for maybe fifteen minutes, the entire conversation being a repeat of pretty much the same phrase.
You're MAD Kennedy...You're MAD...
The office was bleak, and had been painted, almost mockingly, a shade of pink to try and cheer the patients up. Or was it there to cheer up the director? I didn't know.
It was after this fifteen minute period that he'd finally lost his cool with me, and pressed the red button on his desk to call two attendants to lead me away.
"Samson? Blissix? Please come in here and take Mr. Kennedy to his room - And be careful with him, he is prone to violent outbursts"
I stared at him.
Violent outbursts? Since when?
I'd stood up before, angry at the interrogation, but I hadn't any intention of attacking anybody. Naturally, every single guard in the room jumped on me, grabbed a limb each and held me down as I loudly protested against their treatment of me.
Then another guard had brought in his hypodermic syringe with that small cargo of unconsciousness, and I was out like a light. When I'd woken up, my clothes had been removed and I was wearing a hospital nightshirt, white shorts and a straitjacket. My arms were secured to me, and my feet were so cold I didn't want to make any moves anyway, but the staff at the asylum had decided, for whatever reason, to bind me to a wheelchair.
They spoke to me like I was some kind of six-year-old invalid, they always did while I was there.
The two attendants, Samson and Blissix walked into the room, and released me from the chair. They took my elbows, and practically dragged me down the corridor.
I stepped forwards painfully, the floor was cold and my limp was acting up again. The floor was like walking on dry ice, it was uncomfortable, and neither Samson or Blissix seemed to give a damn.
"Please, Mr. Kennedy..." one of them said "...Please don't slow up - It's not nice"
"Not nice..." I shook my head in bemusement "...Who do you think I am, some kind of frigging toddler?"
"Let's change the subject shall we?" I think it was Blissix who said that "Why don't you tell us about this...what is it, the B-Virus?"
"The T-Virus" I said, sternly "A virus that can transform human beings into braindead zombies - The first symptoms are itching, complaints about your skin. Then your skin starts to disintegrate, and you feel unnaturally hungry...after that, there's no stopping it as your brain goes dead, apart from the basic motor senses - And you're a zombie"
"A zombie?!" Samson (I think) said in mock surprise "Sounds pretty bad!"
Blissix sniggered.
They were holding me in that awkward position from which I couldn't see their faces, but I knew they were exchanging amused glances behind my head. They probably got hours of enjoyment, laughing at loonies who were committed all the time. That was what I was to them, just another nutjob.
I suppose you're wondering how I got into this mess? It began two months into the new-year, Claire, Chris and myself were in the process of breaking into the New York Umbrella branch - but we were caught. There was no point in resisting, if you've got nine MP5's pointed at your body and your wife's with you? You're not exactly going to say 'No'. Umbrella had us under lock and key for a while, until we were mysteriously 'released'. Why I had no idea, until, in my apartment in New York I was captured by six Umbrella soldiers while I slept beside Claire.
Our original HQ in London had been raided by the police from an 'anonymous' tip off (guess who from) and so we'd take the risky move of returning to my home in New York. We'd remained safe, however.
Quite why Umbrella only took me was beyond me. Umbrella had decided what to do with me, playing with me as if I was some kind of baseball for them to catch and throw.
Prison meant too much media attention, and releasing me would be too dangerous. So they chose to put me inside Burkitt Mental Hospital, in the town of Burkitt somewhere in Colorado. Familiar place, huh?
To tell the truth, the place is nothing like Raccoon City. There's a mountain range right at the edge of the town - In fact, the mountains are almost part of the town. The asylum is somewhere in the middle of town, it's an enormous concrete monstrosity that looks like a location shoot for The House on Haunted Hill.
From what I could see, the main building was surrounded by barbed wire and high security fences to prevent prisoners from getting out which made it quite a formidable fortress.
The building was tall, gaunt and uncompromising - And it was here I was now imprisoned. One madman amongst many, supposedly.
Samson and Blissix took me down the sterile corridor, and stopped me by a thick metal door, one of them stuck their keys in the lock, and after a click, I was pushed roughly into my 'room'.
I gazed around as the door slammed behind me. It was of equal length, width and height. It was also thickly padded, with only a tiny window at the top of the room letting a little air in.
I'd seen padded cells before, mostly in those horror movies set in lunatic asylums. I'd seen some pictures on Police training - but this was the first time I'd been prisoner in one.
A room...for lunatics?
I flew into a rage as the realisation hit me. They thought I was mad, thought I was insane!
"I'M NOT INSANE!!" I screamed, kicking the padded walls with my bare feet, my arms still tightly bound by the straitjacket "I'M NOT CRAZY!!"
I could hear them laugh, Samson and Blissix, their laughing echoing into and bouncing around my cell.
"YOU DON'T GET IT, DO YOU?!" I yelled "YOU JUST DON'T GET IT!! THAT VIRUS IS OUT THERE - NOTHING CAN STOP IT!!"
If anything, they laughed louder.
I fell against the wall, and looked at the opposite wall in my despair. I slowly dragged down the wall, tears trickling down my face as I stared at the white padded wall opposite me. They wouldn't understand. They would never understand. The fact that I was miles from seeing my wife and two children again, not to mention my sister and friends just hit everything home.
"No..." I whispered, bowing my head into my chest as I lay against the wall. My tears stained the fabric of my straitjacket as I sat there, my own mind in some kind of purgatory that was all my own.

I woke up in the morning, I was lying in the middle of the soft floor, face staring up at the ceiling. How nice of them. I suddenly found that I could move my arms, and realised that they had removed my straitjacket.
I staggered up to the grille.
"Hey...you out there" I said to the attendant.
"Mm?" came the gruff, monosyllabic reply from the man outside.
"I want another room"
"Do you now?" he said, sarcastically.
"Yeah - I thought that you were supposed to be good to your prisoners and actually let them sleep properly once in a while" I sneered.
I stepped back as the door suddenly swung open. He was a very heavily built man, clean shaven but with hair that was slicked back, with muscles like melons and a baton in his left hand.
"Complaining, boy?" he grunted.
"Yeah" I said, confidently "I want another room - Or is that tiny brain of yours too small to understand?"
The man's right hand tightly curled into a fist.
He suddenly brought his arm across with such force that I was taken completely by surprise, and within seconds I was on my knees.
"Okay" he hissed "I've got a fun little game for us to play - It's called 'Count the blows'"
He grabbed my neck with one hand, and put his foot on my hand. I winced, but tried not to show I was in pain, because that would just give the sadistic bastard more satisfaction.
Suddenly, a sudden sharp pain thudded through my back and I clenched my teeth, trying not to scream.
"I said the game's called count the blows!! So count the blows!! If you lose count up to twenty, then I start again!!" he bellowed.
He struck my back again, this time with even more force.
"ONE!" I cried.
WHACK!
"TWO!"
The man smacked me again with his baton, the pain shooting through my body like an electric shock.
"THREE!!" I cried out, I was in agony.
WHACK!
"FOUR!!"
He struck me again, and again and again. I knew that if I couldn't keep count he'd probably break my back.
"N-I MEAN EIGHT!!"
"PARDON?!"
"EIGHT, GODDAMMNIT, EIGHT!!!" I screamed
I cried out with each blow, each cry of pain blurted out as I called out the numbers. By the time he reached fifteen, I was just about ready to pass out. I was in pain. More pain than I'd ever been.
My life was saved by Samson bursting in, and saw my torturer beating me to the very fringes of death.
"Neals, what the HELL are you doing?!" Samson grabbed Neal's hand as he tried to bring it down for the sixteenth time "Have you gone utterly crazy?!"
Neals lowered his hand, and with a grunt, walked out.
I started to cry, collapsing on the floor, my back felt like I'd fallen on it from a great height six or seven times over.
Samson helped me up.
"Whoa...you're in pretty bad shape, I'd better get you a doctor"
He helped me up, and almost carried me out of the cell.
I didn't, and couldn't, resist. My back felt red hot as I was half dragged through the corridor, and after a minute, Samson helped me into a small room and flung me forwards. I landed on a soft, comfortable bed, my face pressed into a pillow.
"This is your room now" he instructed, sternly "I was just over to pick you up..."
The rest of his speech was lost to me in my own, echoing dreamworld. I was weeping softly into the pillow. I felt worse than I had done in a very long time.
I prayed for Claire. I desperately wanted to see her again, I wanted to see Sherry again. I was desperate...

CLAIRE

Over the Hills and far away

The green, ex-army jeep that Chris owned bounced along the muddy track as Sherry and I sat in the back, staring blankly out of the window into the blurring green of the alpine trees as they shot by, blurred and distorted by the rain. The distance was marked by the gaunt mountain peaks, capped with snow.
Leon had been missing for nearly three weeks now, and I missed him. We missed him. As I stared out into the distance, I wondered exactly what it was that Leon had been taken for. I hadn't parted from him in the entire two years we'd known each other. Before Leon, I had thought I was in love.
His name was Steve. I met him on Rockfort Island more than a year ago - He was annoying at times, and came off as a smartass, but his character was deeper than ever I had expected - Which drew me, probably out of curiosity, to him. He died, and I cried. I'd never cried about anybody before. When I met Leon again, it was as if my life had a new meaning. A good meaning. Yes, I fell in love with him. I was magnetized to him in a way I could never have been to Steve. We got married, and I was proud to carry his children.
Now he had been captured by Umbrella, and I felt fiercely angry that they'd even dared to take my husband away from me.
We had been travelling for nearly four hours, and I had barely moved throughout the entire time. Sherry lay in my arms, her arms clasped to me, her face staring out through the rain-drenched window.

We'd met a contact of Chris's down in Albuquerque, or at least somewhere in a small greasy diner on the outskirts.
It had been a small diner, hardly anything special. That morning the diner had been patronised by three off-duty cops and a blind man with a white cane. The patron, Luigi, had been less than kind and courteous, grunting gruffly from behind a thick black moustache
The man had been sitting quietly in the corner, in a long trench coat, staring at the wall. Chris announced our presence by coughing, politely, and the man looked up and smiled.
"Ah. Chris, Claire...and..."
"Sherry" Sherry said.
"Of course, pardon me" he replied, and gestured for us all to sit.
We drew back our chairs, and sat down on the padded chrome seats, which were far from comfortable.
"So..." the young, intense man had said, leaning forwards "...I suppose you want me to tell you the plot?"
"If you could" Chris replied, a little brusquely. Chris wasn't in the habit of trusting anybody these days, even contacts whom he kept in regular contact with were now treated with just a flicker of mistrust. Personally I couldn't blame him.
The man gestured to one of the dog eared menus.
"Do you want something to eat or drink? A bagel? Coffee?"
"Stan" Chris snapped "Please cut to the chase"
I did regret that bit though, I was starving after four hours.
"Okay, okay, keep it cool!" Stan had said, holding his hands out in a gesture of surrender "Calm down..."
"We haven't got anything to be calm about" Chris hissed "My sister's husband is missing"
"I know where he is" Stan said, coolly "Leon Kennedy, isn't it?"
"Yes" I suddenly said "Where is he?"
I was a little overeager with that question, I was leaning forwards on my hands like I was threatening him, and he visibly flinched.
"Ever heard of a town called Burkitt?"
"Uh...Rings a bell"
Stan wiped his finger along the smooth surface, smearing cold, spilled coffee into the table.
"It's located somewhere in Colorado, to the north, on the area that borders the mountains"
"And...?"
Stan appeared to drift for a moment, his gaze drifted towards the windows off into the morning sky, before he snapped his head back to us.
"He's been committed"
Chris, Sherry and myself went rigid with shock.
"He's...in a lunatic asylum?" I asked, shocked.
"Unfortunately, yes" Stan replied sadly "It would take a superhuman effort to get him out under normal circumstances"
I frowned at him.
"What do you mean 'under normal circumstances'"
He looked at us darkly.
"Umbrella have something planned" he whispered "I don't know what exactly, but they've got something up their sleeves - Burkitt could become very unsafe soon"
"I don't care" I stubbornly insisted "I want to save my husband"
Stan looked at us. After a ten second silence, he nodded, softly.
"You're determined, Ms. Redfield"
"Yes" I said, clenching one of my fists in determination.
"I respect that - A lot"
He smiled, the sun glinted on a gold tooth.
"What do you suggest?" Chris asked, leaning further forwards at the table.
"Well, I suggest keeping a low profile - there aren't any Umbrella labs there, but they do have their main chemical plant there, so there's a substantial garrison of Umbrella guards"
"Tell me..." I asked, suspiciously "Who funds the asylums upkeep and maintenance?"
"Guess" Stan said, plainly.
I closed my eyes for a moment.
They would pay. Umbrella would definitely pay.

The jeep crawled up and down slopes, and around tight bends where not even the most daring of stuntmen would drive around.
Chris had chosen the most obscure route to Burkitt, he'd made pretty that was the case to avoid any officials on the main roads, so he'd taken what he called the 'scenic' route. This, roughly translated, meant that it was bumpy, dangerous and unsettling.
A spray of mud slapped into the window, and I drew back out of my trance.

The 4x4 slowed a little as Chris took it around the bend, and I stepped to the cab of the 4x4.
"Hey" I said, nudging Chris "When will we get there?"
He looked up at me, his face tired and his eyes a little bleary.
"Mm? Oh...about an hour I reckon - An hour until we get onto the main ring-road that goes around Burkitt"
"You sure you know where you're going?" I asked, raising my eyebrow.
"Providing the road-signs don't lie to me, then we should be on track"
I nodded, and stepped back into the gloomy back seats.
I flopped down into the backseats, Sherry snuggling up to me.
"Will we find him?" she asked, softly.
"Of course" I said, soothingly.
The seat was soft, but the car shook slightly as we hit bumps in the road.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chris looking back a little, adjusting the angle of the rear view mirror slightly.
"Claire...I don't know if you can see this too, but could you look out of the back and tell me if there's a black armoured car following us"
I peered out of the rain spattered back window. Indeed, there was a sleek black armoured car following us at a steady pace.
"Is it real?" Chris asked.
"It's real" I said "It's very, very real"
I could hear the engine sound change slightly as Chris increased the throttle, and as I looked out the car accelerated to keep up.
Wiping away some of the steam from the window, I could now see that the armoured car - surprise, surprise - had the Umbrella logo stencilled on it.
"It's from Umbrella" I said, turning to Chris in the driver's seat.
"Quelle-goddamn-surprise" he muttered, and put his foot down.
The 4x4 screamed onwards down the road, pursued by the rapidly accelerating Umbrella vehicle. I felt the 4x4 suddenly lurch to one side as Chris brought the 4x4 in a screeching 90 degree turn around a hairpin bend that sent me and Sherry falling to the other side of the vehicle.
"Claire!" Chris yelled "Could you give me a hand with this?!"
"What do you want me to do?!" I replied.
"Uh..."
He thumbed back to me.
"There's an AK-47 underneath the second locker, get it out"
I nodded, and rummaged in one of the lockers - and yes, inside was the black metal form of an AK-47.
"Any spare clips?"
"Try the locker beside it"
I flung open another of the dented army surplus lockers, inside were four clips. Just about enough.
"SHERRY!" I cried "Stay to the side!!"
She nodded, and lay face first on one of the seats at the side, face down, not daring to move.
I could feel the pace of my heart begin to pick up as I twisted the handles on the rear doors and then kicked them open. As they swung to the sides, I was blasted with cool damp air and a slight spray of mud hit my boots.
I raised the rifle, and pulled the trigger.
The rifle bucked into my shoulder as I fired the weapon, fire sprouted from its barrel as the car lurched in the road, trying to avoid my fire.
Bullet holes suddenly appeared in the hood of the approaching car, and as if it was infectious the holes spread all the way up the car, spitting holes in the windshield.
I ceased fire for a moment, in the hope that the driver had lost control. But the car stayed still, and I realised that I had missed the driver.
"Chris!! He's still coming!"
Suddenly, a black-clad soldier leaned out of the car with what looked like an MP5, and I leapt for cover at the side of the car as bullets sprayed in our direction, shredding the edge of the canopy.
When he stopped, I presumed he was out so I turned back and fired. Many hours spent practising with Chris on the firing range had now come to good use, as four of my bullets thudded into our attacker, scarlet fountains erupting from his body as he stiffened with the impact, and fell out of the car door, rolling like a sack of limp meat as he rolled through the mud.
I exhaled.
Good shot, but the car was still following.
"You hit him?!" Chris called.
"Yeah, but only the guy with the gun - The driver's OK!"
"Can you hit him?"
"Think so" I raised the gun to shoot again, when Chris suddenly called
"Waitasec....Oh godamnit! There's another guy in front of us!"
I ran to the front, only to see that he was telling the truth. Another one of the cars had pulled out from a fork in the road, and was now blocking us in. A rattle of gunfire from the front car confirmed that they were trying to lay down covering fire, and we both ducked as some bullets thudded into the right hand side of the screen.
We looked at each other.
"How can get them like this?" I asked.
"We've got to try and kill two birds with one stone..." Chris mused, and after a few seconds, turned to me grinning.
"Okay, hold on tight, I've got an idea"
I was suspicious as to how well Chris's ideas functioned, but I gripped onto the seat and held myself hard to the seat, looking out of the back to see exactly what Chris had planned.
Chris moved the car slightly to the left so that the car was no longer directly behind him, and suddenly hit the brakes.
There was a scream from the protesting handbrake system, and the landscape suddenly stopped moving, as the vehicle behind us shot forwards, the baffled driver unable to stop before he thundered into the front vehicle.
There was a sickening metallic crash as the two vehicles collided, metal bending and screeching as Chris veered off to the left of the two crashed vehicles. As we shot past, a stray spark ignited at least one of the car's petrol engines, and I just had time to close the back doors before a pretty glowing mushroom of fire thumped up into the sky, lifting the carcass of one of the vehicles high into the sky, before it crashed down on its counterpart.
I was glad I had never heard the driver's screams.
Chris sighed, and slowed the car slightly.
"Whew...that was a close one"
"Yeah...But I think that friend of yours was right, we have got to keep a low profile in Burkitt - It's a good bet Umbrella know that that's where we're going" I replied.
I flopped down in the seat, looking at Sherry, who looked at me and let off a slight smile.
I smiled back, not broadly but just in an encouraging way.
So our journey continued.

It was an hour before we finally came off the muddy road onto a proper tarmac highway, which relieved us no end, as the endlessly inconstant road surface finally became smooth. The road to Burkitt was practically deserted, although there were nine or ten crashed cars around.
"This is not good..." I muttered as I saw the burned out carcasses of the cars lying around in the lanes of the highway.
"No kidding" Chris remarked.
I looked out of the front windscreen, and saw a large barrier, created out of police fences and two or three cars apart from the centre section, which was manned by three cops.
They were waving us to stop.
"Still humans around" Chris said, nodding at me "At least that's something"
"Doesn't explain the barrier though" I pointed out.
Chris slowed down at the barricade, and a slender, thirty-something man swaggered towards us in that condescending way most patrolmen adopted. For some bizarre reason he was also wearing shades. Chris wound down the window, and adopted an Oscar-worthy performance as an unsuspecting country bumpkin.
"Something wrong officers?" Chris asked, casually.
"I'm afraid you aren't allowed within this blockade" the cop said with a thick New England twang.
"And why is that?" Chris asked in exactly the same tone of voice.
"Civil problems" he replied spitting into the tarmac.
"Define 'Civil problems?' Are we talking occasional muggings or the LA Riots?"
"Somewhere in the middle"
The cop then shrugged, leaning against the car. I rolled my eyes, unresponsive cops were the last thing we needed.
"You sure we can't come in?" Chris asked, innocently.
"I'm sorry sir" the man said, chewing on what was presumably gum "But Burkitt is currently suffering from some civil disturbances, and the police are having to check those coming in to the city - Do you have a pass?"
"Uh...no..."
"Then I cannot let you in, sorry sir"
Chris sighed, glared at the cop, and deliberately wound the window up quickly, making the man jerk back in surprise as the glass nearly crushed his hand.
Chris reversed the 4x4.
"How do we get in?" I asked.
Chris grinned. I'd seen that look before. It generally belonged to those about to attempt acts of insanity. It was the look of stuntmen, the look of those kinds of people who yelled 'C'MON!!' while standing in the middle of some train-tracks as the express from St. Louis hammered towards them at full speed.
"Oh no" I said, smiling a little as Chris reversed the car back about two hundred metres. He revved the engine "You're joking"
"Hold tight" he said evilly, as I buckled up in the front seat (which I had moved into) and I turned to Sherry.
"Sherry?"
"Yeah?"
"Buckle up"
She nodded, and sat down, clicking in the seat belt.
I looked forwards, towards the wooden blockade, and then to Chris.
"You sure this is going to work?" I asked.
"I don't know" he said, shrugging "But that'll be the fun part"
I glared at him.
"We've got a thirteen year old girl in the back Chris - You had better be right about this"
Chris revved the engine again, and reversed a little further back.
"Ready?"
"Ready!" Sherry and I said in unison.
Chris slammed his foot down on the accelerator, and with a screeching of tyres, the 4x4 took off down the deserted section of road.
I looked down at the speedometer, and saw the needle climb rapidly.
Thirty miles per hour...forty...fifty...
Fifty metres from the blockade, the wall of shouting policemen stopped shouting and waving, and when they realised we weren't going to stop, they scattered.
We hit the barricade, which, after being hit by a 4x4 travelling slightly in excess of sixty-five miles per hour stood absolutely no chance of survival.
The barricade snapped, pieces of splintering wood bouncing off the canopy as we burst through the protective line, other pieces sliding under the wheels as we shook off the last excesses of the barrier, and there was nothing but open road.
Chris whooped with delight, and I turned to him, smiling but shaking my head.
"You're an absolute lunatic, Chris"
"Thank you, I pride myself on that" he said, grinning.
We drove on, Chris whistling loudly, and triumphantly.
We were finally hitting the outskirts of the town, the sign loomed up at us through the rain.
WELCOME TO BURKITT
Population: 90,002

Lights appeared in the distance, and as we drove in, we became aware of the city outskirts - Derelict houses, a café, a car park with six or seven cars in it - and thank god, some people walking around. We could tell they weren't zombies, they walked strongly, hands in pockets and disappeared into the glowing café, which was a hive of activity.
"Let's pull over" I said "I'm seriously hungry - I can't rescue Leon on an empty stomach"
"Okay" Chris shrugged "I'm a little hungry myself, let's grab a bite"
Chris pulled the car over, and stopped it just outside. Since nobody appeared to be paying any attention to the parking laws at the moment, Chris parked at an angle, and click on the brake.
We climbed out into the rain, which was falling quite softly at the moment, and with Sherry at my side and Chris leading the way, we stepped into the amber light of the café.
Actually, it was more of a diner - It had seven men sitting down, drinking coffee surreptitiously and a young barmaid with ginger hair held in a tight ponytail serving them their cups.
Despite how inconspicuous we were trying to be, people from out of town were bound to draw some kind of attention no matter how much they were trying to prevent it.
So a small group of eyes watched us carefully as we walked up to the bar, where the barman cleaned the bar, or to be more accurate spread the spilled drink more evenly across the surface.
I tried not to touch the bar as the barman walked up to us.
"Whaddya want?" he asked, gruffly.
"Uh..." Chris turned to us.
"A bagel" I said.
"Uh, me too" Sherry said, softly.
"And I guess I'll have a bagel too" Chris said "And that's two coffees and..."
"A hot chocolate" Sherry put in.
The man grunted again, and went behind the bar to arrange our order.
I gazed around the room. It looked like one of those '1950's' theme places, commemorative plates hung on the walls celebrating Elvis's first hit record, and a plate that celebrated a World Series victory for the Yankees.
There was an emphasis on chrome, which lined nearly every surface.
We collected our food and drink and sat down not far from the other table, starting to eat and drink silently.
As I looked out of the corner of my eye, I could see one of the men whisper, and then stand up. He walked over to us, and sat down with us.
"You from outta town?" he asked.
"Yeah" Chris said "We're here to meet a relative"
The Redfield talent for spontaneous lying had run through the family for a very long time.
"Well, I can see you ain't troublemakers, so I'll give you a little advice..."
He waggled his finger.
"Obey the curfew - Staying off the streets at night is advisable, it's become real dangerous lately"
I looked at him.
"Dangerous?"
"Yeah, we been finding people with their throats torn out in back-alleys - Some rumour about an illness knocking around in Colorado got everybody hoppin', and some guy decided to bring in the armed police"
"What are they doing here?" Chris asked.
"They patrol the streets every night - Some people still go out, but anybody who does? Never heard of again"
The man was absolutely serious, not a single note of mockery or humour hinted his voice.
"Thanks" Chris said "We'll keep that in mind"
"And if I was you, I'd buy a gun - People say they been seeing creatures all over the place lately. And LEAVE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE" he emphasised his last sentence.
He then stood up, not waiting for a response, and then sat down with his friends again.
Chris, Sherry and I exchanged glances.
"A mystery illness" Chris whispered "I wonder what that could be" he added, sarcastically.
"Seems like hell's just about ready to be unleashed" I muttered, peering down into my black coffee.

Bring on the Night

We left about ten minutes later, and climbed back into the car. As soon as the door slammed, Chris spoke.
"Umbrella are already here. If Leon is banged up in the asylum as Stan says, then we've got one hell of a problem on our hands"
"Let's just hope he isn't infected" I replied, crossing my fingers.
Chris threw the car into gear, and accelerated off down the road. Buildings became denser, and after a while we came to a roundabout that signified the beginning of the town proper.
There was something oddly quiet about the town. There was the sound of vehicles driving, and there were lit signs with glowing windows - but the streets were nearly deserted.
Chris brought the 4x4 to a stop, and we cautiously climbed out. Chris went to the back of the 4x4, and pulled out his shotgun, throwing another to me on a strap. I caught it, and slung it around my shoulder. I had my semi-automatic pistols in my belt, so I wasn't worried about that. I also had the reassuring weight of Leon's magnum. I took it out, admiring its shining surface, and as if it was Leon itself, I kissed its barrel.
I had six clips for my semi-automatics, and I pulled on my jacket over my head to avoid suspicious looks.
"Okay" Chris said "We need a base of some kind - This is too exposed out here"
"Right" I said "Any suggestions?"
We stood silently for a few seconds on the concrete sidewalk. It was a cool afternoon, just edging into the evening period. Darkness was starting to filter down onto us, and lights were springing up in odd places down the road.
Bring on the night.
"What about a hotel?" Sherry piped up.
Chris nodded.
"Good idea. Seems like the virus isn't spreading too quickly at the moment, so providing we avoid using the local water supply and keep away from most people, we should be fine. I don't think the T-Virus has an airborne strain from what I've researched, so we're okay there"
"Do you know of any hotels around here?"
Chris shook his head.
"No. Never been here before"
I looked around.
"Across the road" I pointed at a large sign on a large brick building that read 'HOTEL PARADIS'. It was lit up in red neon, which, while being tacky admittedly, was at least a place to stay.
"Let's go" Chris said, concealing his shotgun beneath his jacket.

The lobby of Hotel Paradis was as we expected it to be - Nearly everything was imitation gold, and yes- the carpet was red.
We walked through, the hallway almost empty, apart from a man sitting at a small table in the corner, face bowed down towards the table. Probably asleep, I thought, as we walked down towards the reception desk.
To any observer, we would look like a waylaid family trying to find a place to stay for the night. This was fine with us, and while being only partially true, it was hardly our obligation to tell the truth to the locals who didn't care about what we had to say about Umbrella.
Chris stepped cautiously up to the counter, to the receptionist, who sat, half asleep at the table. He was sweating, and when Chris coughed politely to wake him up, he jolted into consciousness.
We didn't like the texture of his face either. His skin had acquired a waxy sheen to it, and he was looking slightly pale.
He smiled softly, and sat up, scratching his body profusely.
"Uh...hi, this is the Hotel Paradis...how may we help you?"
"You okay?" I asked.
"I'm fine" he replied "Just a touch of the flu, nothing more"
"What about your skin?" Chris asked.
"Just a little eczema"
'A little' was an understatement. He looked as if he'd been scratching so hard that he'd practically dug into his skin. As he scratched his hand, I did notice that it had blistered quite badly. A chill froze my gut. I knew what this meant.
The poor guy hadn't the faintest idea what awaited him.
"So...Can we get a room?"
"Sure! Any specifications?"
"Just a room with enough beds for...say four people"
We had to account for Leon when the time came.
He sounded cheerful enough, if a little hoarse, and he checked the register. His eyes scanned the pages for a moment, before he looked up, smiling.
"Okay, room 50 on the fourth floor is free - Will that do?"
"Fine, fine, fine" Chris waved his hands, and then removed his wallet "How much is that?"
"How many nights are you planning to stay here?"
"Hopefully just the one"
"Got some problems in town?" the man asked, casually.
"Uh...no..."
"Well, we have...I'm going to leave town as soon as possible" the man remarked, throwing us the key, which Chris caught in his gloved hand.
"How much is that?" Chris repeated his question.
"$80"
Chris winced at the price, but handed over the money - in cash of course - anyway.
"Have a pleasant day" he smiled.
We thanked him, before going to the elevator, pushing the button for floor four, and the doors sighed closed.
I turned to look at Chris.
"Waxy skin, sweating, flu...Do you think-?"
"Uh-huh" Chris nodded.
"Poor guy" I murmured "Do you think we'll have to...you know..."
"What, kill him?" Chris said "At some point we may have to"
I sighed, nodding.
When the doors pinged open, we walked down the empty corridor, and located Room 50.
Chris inserted the key into the lock, and pushed the door open. The room was fairly cool, even though the windows were closed. There was a double bed, and a sofa, which I presumed folded out into another double bed.
The room's colour scheme was sickly, a horrible shade of yellow and red, but there was an ensuite bathroom and one or two cupboards, plus a TV.
"Not too bad" Chris leapt onto a bed like a child, and bounced on it slightly "Pretty soft too. Not bad at all"
Sherry fell on the bed, exhausted. I rolled my eyes.
"Looks like I get the sofa"
I unfurled the bed, and flopped onto it.
"Let's get a couple of hours worth of shut eye" Chris said, lying back on a pillow "It'll be worth it - we got a long night ahead"
"Good idea" Sherry mumbled, eyes already closed.
"Just...a couple of hours" I said.
"Fine" Chris said, closing his eyes.
Soon, I closed my own. I wasn't fabulously tired, but I decided to get as much sleep as I could in the meantime.
I could feel the world turn black around me as I fell into a troubled sleep, my dreams filled with images of Leon, smiling at me.
I also thought of my children - Who were currently in Rebecca's care. I wasn't doubting her skills, but there was something about her that got on my nerves after a while. Apart from that, she was friendly and eager, and she'd been delighted to look after Steve and Ada. Barry said he'd keep a close eye on the house they were staying in. So that was okay. But Leon? I didn't know how he was feeling.
I will rescue you, I promised him, if it's the last thing I do.

I woke up to a bloodcurdling scream that tore through the air like a knife. Within seconds I was wide awake, sitting bolt upright. I rubbed my eyes, and looked at the wall clock.
11:30pm
Four hours? Not bad. But my attention was with the scream from downstairs. Chris was waking up, as was Sherry. As I ran to the window, I stared out in disbelief at the scene that confronted me.
The walls were flickering with red and blue light, and as I stared down below, I saw three police cars and six cops - Live ones, I mean - pointing assorted weapons at...I froze.
About thirty zombies were lurching down the road towards the screaming men, who opened fire.
"What's that?!" Chris asked.
"That's what's giving me the signal to get to the asylum"
I grabbed my shotgun, which I had discarded temporarily, and slung it over my shoulder.
I made for the door, but Chris stepped in my way.
"Waitasec...What makes you think you're going by yourself?"
"If you come there won't be anybody to protect Sherry" I pointed out.
"Why doesn't she come too?"
I gave him a cold look
"Oh, great idea...Take Sherry into a building full of zombies and violent lunatics? Smart move"
Chris sagged, unable to think of an argument.
"How can you go by yourself?!" Sherry asked, half angry, half despairing.
"I've got to go by myself" I said, calmly.
"I want to come with you!!"
"It's too dangerous, Sherry!"
"Angel Island was dangerous, and I still went with you then, Finzustown was dangerous, and I still went with you then" she pointed out.
"Yes, but this is...something I really feel I want to do alone...It's something I have to do, do you understand?"
She looked into my eyes, and I could see that she did.
"Will...you be back?"
I smiled
"You won't even have time to miss me" I said, giving her a kiss on the forehead.
"Good luck" Chris said, giving me a hug "You got enough ammo?"
"I've got sixty odd rounds for the shotgun in these pouches" I indicated the pouches "I'm carrying six clips for my semi-automatics and I've got Leon's magnum with four clips"
He nodded.
"That should see you through, providing there's no tyrants or anything" he said, letting off a sly grin and patted me on the shoulder.
"I'll be back in a few hours" I said, smiling - And I stepped outside, closing the door behind me.
For a moment I stood there, eyes closed, concentrating on my breathing. My heart was pounding, because I knew that the task ahead was not going to be easy. Far from it.
I WILL rescue Leon, I WILL rescue Leon, I thought.
I walked down the corridor towards the lift. I pressed the lift call button, and waited as it hummed up towards me.
I pulled out my semi-automatics, and waited for the doors to slide open. As if I knew exactly what was coming, I stepped back. Out of the elevator lurched a zombie, disintegrating greyish skin and blood dripping from its decaying mouth, filled with yellowish teeth. White eyes stared at me in a bloodlust, which I knew would never be sated until I was on the ground and he was eating my guts.
Out of instinct, I pulled both the triggers, and four bullets tore into its skull, two blasting its eye and some of the brain behind it to a pulp, the other two tearing through its skull as if it was a knife going through a balloon, bloody matter spraying against the lift doors.
The moaning zombie keeled over onto its knees, and then flopped over onto its front. I stepped over its body, but it wasn't quite dead, and it tried to grab my boot to get a mouthful out of my ankle.
"Get off me!" I said, annoyed, and stomped down on its skull as hard as I could. My boot went straight through its paper thin skull, a horrible squishing and crunching signifying the destruction of its head.
I walked into the elevator, wiping my boot on the carpet of the lift. I did have morals, but at the moment, nothing mattered apart from Leon.
I stabbed the ground floor button. It took a matter of moments for the lift to reach the ground floor, and when the doors opened, I stepped out into the reception area, ready for the worst. I stepped up to the counter, watching the receptionist asleep on the desk.
I holstered my pistols, and withdrew the Remington 120 shotgun, waiting...
With a hoarse moan, the receptionist looked up at me. White eyeballs studied my face, and with more than a little pity, I pointed the barrel of the weapon at the moaning zombie's head and I said 'Sorry' before unloading the weapon into his head. The shot blasted straight through the receptionist-zombie's head, and it flopped back in its chair, its body twitching.
At least that had killed it.
As I turned, I nearly shrieked when I saw four more zombies lurching towards me, one of them being the man we'd seen at the table as we'd arrived.
I unloaded three shots in rapid succession, the first blew a bloody hole in the first's chest, the second shot obliterated the face of the first, the shot blasting straight through its head into the throat of another moaning zombie, which tore its head from its body in a single, bloody movement.
I tried not to breathe in the smell as I stepped over their bodies, and hurried towards the exit. I pushed open the doors, and I was aware of the rain. There was little in the way of wind, but there was rain - Not tremendously heavy, but it was doing far more than spitting.
I stepped onto the wet road, looking around for a car I could use.
"FIRE!! FIRE!!" screamed one of the policemen, as they fought a losing battle against the horde of zombies.
I had to close my eyes as screams of pain filled the air, punctuated by the tearing of flesh and the moaning of zombies. I turned away, unable to carry on watching what was being done to the men.
I looked up at the sky - and I saw it.
The asylum, a huge concrete monstrosity loomed over the entire city. It had to be, no other building I had ever seen looked like that. The sky rumbled, as if it had indigestion - and then a bolt of lightning illuminated the highest tower, and the word 'Mad Scientists castle' filled my mind for just a moment.
At least I knew where it was now.
I looked around for a car. Yes, there was one with the door open, and...I leaned inside...Yes, the keys were in the ignition. The driver had obviously left in a hurry. I leapt in, and slammed the door.
I suddenly felt a pang of guilt, at having left the cops to their fate - But then again, they were dead men before I'd even stepped outside. Even if I had done anything they wouldn't have survived.
I prayed that they were dead before the T-Virus had a chance to kick in, and then started the engine.
I reversed the car a little, and then brought it out into the street before really putting the pedal to the metal. As I hammered down the road, walking dead littering the streets, I never let the asylum out of my sight.
I gritted my teeth.
I'm coming Leon. I'm coming.

END OF PART ONE
Part two coming soon!!