Rita awoke to the darkness and the hangover that throbed behind her sunken eyes. She reached over to the nightstand for the bottle of pills that had tipped over next to the five dollor lamp with a torn shade. The small plastic bottle that she had bought on the streets the night before came with a dozen capsules, half of which she had taken before falling into a drunken slumber during the ten o'clock news. They went down her throat easy as Rita held her head back with a glass of Jack Daniel's to her lips. She placed the empty glass onto the dirty carpet next to the bed where she had picked it up. Jack always went best with her daily dosage. The ache behind her eyes had already dimmed as fatigue began to consume her. A used litter box filled the room with the stinch of cat urine, even though the cat had been dead for nearly two weeks. Rita had found Chester under the bed stuck to the carpet with his own dried blood. When she had lifted him off the ground it made a horrible tearing sound as the flesh and fur tore from the carcass. It took nearly five hours to completely get the staine out from where Chester had bled to death. The cat had been hit by a car and somehow found his way home without dying. Lucky for Rita.
She rested on the soft pillow with her eyes closed waiting to be taken by the Sandman. Staring into the darkness behind her eyelids Rita could see her mother. A bullethole bled from her forehead leaving a red river down her face. Her Cranium had been blown open exposing what was left of the grey matter that seemed to be swiming in cranberry juice. On her face was the _expression of a daughter's betrayal.
"Forgiveness can be a necessity to those who seek it."
Rita was unable to open her eyes under the weight of the pills but she could feel the pressure of someone kneeling on the mattress at the foot of the bed. And when the intruder spoke it was the voice of someone familiar. More than familiar, it was a voice that she has had to listen her entire life.
"But to many it is a luxury. A luxury you will never get from me."
"Shelly?" Her lips felt numb as Rita uttered her sister's name.
"You took her away from me. The only glimmer of light that has made this life endurable."
"She was threatening to call the FBI. She gave me no choice." Rita heard the click of the hammer being cocked on a gun.
"There is always a choice. You came to the crossroads of your life. You had to choose a path and the path that you have chosen has led you to this." She pressed the cold barrel of the .44 revolver to her sister's temple. The same .44 revolver that killed their mother. Rita began to cry. "She gave you exsistance and you took hers away. Tell me something, Rita, did she beg for her life? Was she in tears like you are right now?"
"Please. I don't want to die."
"Neither did our mother." Shelly pulled the trigger. The back of her sister's head exploded on the pillow soaking the fabric in wet pulp and bits of skull fragments. Now she was in a situation that she knew there was no way out of. They would come looking for her but she wouldn't run. She would wait for them and except whatever came.
On her way out the door Shelly picked up her sister's black overcoat that was slung over the purple chair by the door. She slipped it on stepping into the shadows of the bitter night.
* * * * *
It was raining on the day she found her mother's corpse. It was also the day her pregnancy test came back positive. She wasn't sure who the father was but she knew exactly when it happened. Five months ago in August in the alley behind the nightclub, Insomnia. One of the many clubs that was owned and operated by Yablans, Rita's boss. Most of them were fronts for the business that makes him the real money. Importing and exporting guns. Of course the ATF agents who were on the case called it smuggling.
Shelly was leaning against the brick wall next to a dumpster that reeked of stale alcohol and cigarette butts. Her date was still inside dancing with a red head wearing a tight dress that looked as if it were painted on. She didn't have any money and he had the keys to the car and so she was stuck in the worse place she could be stuck. The hip-hop was loud, even outside. At the end of the alley she could see a man hiding in the shadow of the building begin to walk her way. He staggered as if he had had several drinks over his limit.
"Hey, lady, you got a cigarette?"
Three men grabed her from behind. Where they had come from to this day she doesn't know. It was as if they had materialized out of the particles in the air. Shelly could smell the stink on their breath, a stink that would haunt her for years after theropy. They slammed her hard against the wall in the spotlight of a bare lightbulb above the exit. She tried to scream but the music smothered her chaotic shouts for help. A hand with hairy knuckles went up her leather skirt tearing off the red panties that she wore. Her breasts were being brutally violated that would leave dark patches around the nipples as one of the drunks bit her ear drawing blood. They each took turns satisfying themselves between her legs laughing at her tears and profanity.
After about thirty five minutes the ordeal was over. Shelly was on the pavement with blood running down both of her legs. No one came to her rescue. She was alone.
The men were all strangers and she couldn't remember their faces. Only their stinking breath. She filed a report with the police but it would amount to nothing.
When she skipped her time of the month in June she tried to assure herself that it was only brought on by stress. But the home pregnancy test would prove otherwise. Shelly didn't know what to do. What were her options? Abortion. But she couldn't. She couldn't prevent a life from being what it's meant to be. "Everything happens for a reason" her mother had always said. "There are no coincidences. Only fate." Pearls of wisdom. She had to go to her mother. Find out what she thinks of the situation.
Standing on the front porch her sister opened the door before she could knock.
"What are you doing here, Rita?"
But she didn't answer. She only looked at her with a sadness in her eye that Shelly had never seen before. Something was wrong. Rita walked down the steps into the rain holding something in her left hand. Something that looked like a gun.
Shelly turned to the opened door pushing it wide to walk in. Her mother was laying on the hardwood floor as an expanding pool of redness swelled around her torso.
"Mom?" Shelly whispered knowing there would be no reply.
* * * * *
Cole stood in front of Yablans' desk in his office on the second floor of his nightclub, Broken Dreams. His regular client sat behind his computer wearing a dark suit with potato chip crumbs on his blue tie. He was a heavyset man who had his first heart attack when he was thirty two. By the time he was forty he had had two more. He crushed the cherry of his cigarette into the skull ashtray next to the keyboard. Cole slipped his hands into the pockets of his black vest that he wore over the green button down shirt.
"I want her dead. She killed her sister and stole the key." Yablans lit another cigarette with his Zippo lighter. "I want that key back and I want a bullet in that bitch's heart."
"What's the key for?"
"Lockbox at the airport. What's in it is my business. Your business is to use your talents to get back what belongs to me and to make sure that that fucking family has a group funeral. Do we understand each other?"
"Loud and clear."
"You'll get paid the usual. Debra's outside, she'll take care of the bill and anything else you might need." He pointed a fat finger to the door giving Cole the sign to leave.
* * * * *
In the early ninties Cole had served in the United States Army and was shipped to the Gulf. He had seen combat and the bloodshed that came with it. Near the end of the war he found himself lost somewhere in the desert behind enemy lines. He had been shot in his leg just above the knee with his squad nowhere to be seen. Sweating and hungry his only companion was the enemy sitting across from him in the trench.
They held their guns to each other for three hours before calling it truths. The soilder spoke perfect english and was a fan of the Dallas Cowboys. Speaking long into the evening they realized that in any other situation they could have been friends. He was Cole's enemy only because he was told so by his superiors. Only because of the uniform on his back. Was it his fault that he was born in the country he was born in? Raised to believe what he believes in?
"Here." The soilder handed Cole a yellow hankerchief that he pulled out of his pocket. "You can stop the bleeding with this."
He took the rag putting pressure against the seeping wound. "Thanks."
In any other situation.
Four bullets exploded into his chest knocking him on his back. The soilder was dead before he could see the american standing at the top of the trench.
"What the fuck are you doing, Cole? Chit-chating with the enemy?" Cole looked up at his rescuer. For a split moment he was ashamed to be an american.
The hitman could remember that day as if it were happening now. He took the yellow hankerchief tying it around his palm. Cole settled himself on the grassy hill as he ballanced the rifle on the ground. She was in the cross hair of the scope sitting at a park bench with her hands on her knees.
He was following orders again, had been all of his life. This lady was no more an enemy than that soilder back in the desert. In any other situation she could have been a friend. A lover.
Cole slowly placed his finger on the trigger.
* * * * *
Shelly felt the tears on her cheeks as she watched the lady push her daughter on the chain swing. Memories of her mother came like a flood drowning every other thought that lingered in her mind. She could remember when she was a little girl watching her mother, who thought Shelly was asleep, put a quarter under her pillow for the tooth that she had lost. She could remember staying up all night with her mother holding her close when her prom date didn't show up. She could remember crying at her side the night her father had died of a stroke.
The lady laughed with her daughter as she yelled that she wanted to go higher.
"Higher, Mommy, higher!"
She wiped away the tears with the back of her hand only to have more stream down her face. Shelly wanted to join her mother and as she looked up at the hill across the street she knew that her time had come. The dark figure was on his stomach looking at her though the scope of a high powered rifle. Holding her arms out as if to embrace the man she rose to her feet with her eyes closed.
It's coming, she thought.
But it never did. When she opened her eyes the man was gone as if he were a dream.
Was there no mercy?
* * * * *
Halloween came with the usual children in costumes scavenging the neighborhood for candy. Eggs were thrown at cars and toilet paper was thrown up in trees, nothing unusual for Ocotber 31st. It had always been Shelly's favorite holiday ever since she was a kid. The first cotume that she had ever worn was a costume of Linda Blaire from The Exorcist. Her mother had bought the blue nightgown while her uncle did the make up. He took her mattress out on the front lawn and tied her up with torn sheets. Not one kid that came to their front door didn't run away screaming. Shelly's father, however, hated Halloween and spent that night in front of the television watching the news with a beer in his hand.
The same way she was spending Halloween almost twenty years later.
Shelly was sitting in the white recliner watching Hellraiser on the Sci-Fi Channel. Horror had always been her favorite in cinema, ever since her uncle had rented John Carpenter's The Thing for them to watch together. He was living in the basement of her house which her father had fixed up into a guest bedroom. His brother was going to the university, majoring in broadcast journalism, but the dorms had all been taken by students from out of state. Interning at channel twelve at $5.25 an hour, 20 hours a week, didn't pay the bills and so he was invited to stay in the guestroom until summer break. Shelly felt a sudden connection with her uncle who had always stood up for her whenever her father would raise a fist to her. And the more he drank the more often that became. It was on one of these nights, her father had recently lost his job at the warehouse and he was looking for a new one at the bottom of a Budwiser, that her father had his stroke. Shelly was doing her homework when she was interupted by her bedroom door crashing open. He stood there with his red eyes gleaming at her as if he didn't know what he was suppose to do next. Frustrated he threw his beer can at her, which hadn't been opened, hitting her square in the chest. The wind was knocked out of her and for a moment she couldn't breath. That moment seem to last a lifetime.
Pain began to clamp her lungs as she fought for air. She slammed her hands onto the desk knocking her world history book to the floor with her homework.
"I'm sorry." Her father said.
When she was able to catch her breath and get her breathing under control again she looked back over to where he was standing. For a second she only saw an empty doorway leading into the hall. He must have gone to get another beer. But than she saw the figure slumped againt the wall.
Her father died that night in the hospital.
"What's your pleasure, Mr. Cotton?"
"The box."
"Take it, it's yours. It always was."
Shelly turned away from the TV raising the bottle of gin to her lips. The liquor stung washing down her throat warming her insides. She had nobody anymore.
She was alone.
There was a knock at the door with the sound of laughing children. Shelly set the bottle onto the coffee table walking into the other room. Picking up the bag of Snikers on the kichen table, to hand out to the little beggers, she swaggered over to the front door. The air was cool outside with a heavy wind that picked up the falled leaves on the ground. Four children stood in front of her holding out their bags, each wearing a cheap costume that their mothers had bought for them at Walmart. There was the typical Vampire, Harry Potter, a clown, and what would Halloween be without a witch.
"Trick or Treat."
She handed each of them a candybar then turned to close the door. Not one of them said thank you. That was when she made the dissension not to answer the door for the remainder of the night. Before the door could shut all the way Shelly felt someone holding it open. There was a man standing where the children had once been. Three other men stood behind him all wearing dark suits.
"Shelly Curtis?"
Maybe her time had come after all. The man in front of her pulled out a 9mm semi automatic gloc from inside of his coat. She held her ground as he pointed the barrel center mass ready to put a bullet in her heart. Shelly closed her eyes waiting for The Reapers cold touch.
BANG
When she felt no pain she opened her eyes to see what happened. The man with the 9mm was at her feet bleeding from the hole in his chest. She looked up as the other men pulled out their guns turning toward their assailant. Before any of them could pull the trigger bullets began to rip though their suits as red fluid splashed onto the sidewalk behind them. Several children screamed as the men hit the ground with their blood already running cold. A stranger walked up to the door stepping over the dead bodies. He slid the two Barrettas into the holsters under his black vest.
"Where's the key?"
"What?" Shelly asked not knowing what he was talking about.
"Your sister had a key, where is it?"
"I've seen you before. You were at the park this afternoon."
"That doesn't matter," Cole said. "But what does matter is that key."
"I don't have any key."
Cole was silent for a moment thinking about the situation. "Fine, than we have to leave."
"What are you talking about?"
"There are more men on the other side of this apartment complex and they're gonna be over here as soon as they realize what happened and we don't want to be here when they come running around that corner shotguns in hand."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Do you want to die?"
When Shelly looked into the strangers eyes she could see genuine concern and for the first time since her mother's death she wanted to see what the next moment would bring. "No."
"Than get your jacket and let's move."
She sat in the speeding Dodge wearing her sister's black overcoat watching the houses on both sides of the road rush by. They were homes to families that were just getting ready for dinner. Parents who still had thier children, children who still had thier parents. The evening sky was tinted a red hue as the sun shrank behind the distant mountains on the horizon. Over that horizon was where her new life would be found. A new life with the child that nestled in her womb. And possibly a friend.
"So, who are you?" She asked the man behind the wheel.
"I'm the one who was hired to kill you."
"What happened?"
"Some people shouldn't die that way. Some people deserve a chance."
"A chance at what?"
"Happiness, I guess."
"That train left the station a long time ago."
"If it were anybody else I wouldn't have hesitated to pull the trigger. It would have been like a few days ago. Quick, easy. My target was a guy selling armor piercing bullets. Armor piercing bullets that can tear through the side of a car and out the other end no problem. A bullet proof vest would be a piece of cake, like shooting through cardboard. Anyway, he was selling these fuckers to the Wongs."
"The Wongs?" Outside the red hue in the sky darkened to a deep purple.
"Badass nips that came from Hong Kong. They've been dipping into Yablans' business and Yablans doesn't like that so he doesn't like them. So he's going to make damn sure that they don't get thier hands on those armor piercing bullets. I was sent into the equation with my rifle. The day he was suppose to make the deal with the Wongs I watched him though my scope walk out onto his front lawn. He was dead before he hit the morning due on the grass. Motherfuckers like that I got no problem pulling the trigger. But you were different. I don't know why but I couldn't do it. If you don't have the key than it wasn't for profit."
"She killed our mother. That's why I did it. I've never seen this key you keep mentioning."
"It opens a lockbox at the airport. I'm guessing there's money inside. And if Yablans is willing to hire me to pop you I'm guessing there's a lot of money inside."
"Is that the real reason you spared me?"
"If that were the real reason I spared you we wouldn't be here right now because you don't have the key. If I wanted that money, when I found out that you didn't have the key I would have taken you out right then and there. But that's not the real reason I spared you."
"What's your name?"
"Cole."
They drove into the night as a blanket of stars began to come out shining down onto the mountainous landscape that surrounded them. A few miles back a white van followed them out of the city keeping its distance. Inside the van Yablans' men listened to the radio as Rob Zombie pounded from the speakers. "Crawl on me, sink into me, die for me. Living dead girl."
* * * * *
Morning came with the sun peaking over the pine trees on the road ride. The Dodge had only stopped once all night to get gas in a small town, Willoughby, that was nothing but farmland. That was near three o'clock, over two hundred miles back, and they hadn't seen civiliazation since.
"Look, there's nobody around and I haven't seen a cop all night, so why don't we just drive the motherfuckers off the god-damn road."
Clive glance over at Marcus sitting in the passenger seat with a cigarette between his lips. He had been driving for almost twelve hours and wanted nothing more than a pillow. But there would be no sleep until they got that key and the two runaways got a taste of thier grave. "That's a great idea. Get ready for some road-rage, boys." Clive pressed his boot to the gas pedal.
The Dodge was about two miles ahead of them but they made that distance in no time at all. They passed a sign, the only sign they've seen since Willoughby, that had bold white letters fading with age.
Raccoon City, five miles.
"You better hurry your ass up, Clive. We only got five miles."
"Maybe we should wait to see if they stop."
"Fuck that, man, floor it." Sean yelled from the back.
He did as he was told.
Looking into the rearview mirror Cole could see the white van approaching with a deadly speed. "We've got company."
"Can we outrun them?"
"I guess we're about to find out."
"Try to make it to the city." Outside Shelly noticed that there had recently been a fire in the woods. Trees had fallen to the ground naked with thier bark burned down to a black covering. The earth seemed to be covered with ash and the road had deep cracks running into the pavement. It was like a bomb had gone off.
"What happened here?"
"Looks like a fire." Cole said.
"What about the cracks in the road?" The white van slammed into the rear bumper at seventy-five miles an hour causing Shelly to slam her head into the dashboard. She turned her head to the van watching it speed over to the side of the Dodge. "Faster!" She yelled.
"I'm going!" Cole yelled back. He pushed the car as the speedometer rose to nearly ninty. The van slowly fell behind. "No way that piece of shit can hit ninty."
Shelly could see the buildings ahead of them now as they reached the city limits. There was no traffic or pedestrians walking the streets. There was only an uncomfortable stillness and the ruins of a city long abandoned. Most of the offices and homes were incinerared to piles of rubble. Only a few were left standing after what had to be a massive explosion.
"I don't believe this." She whispered.
"Could have been a terrorist act."
"Something this big I think we would have seen on CNN."
"Maybe there was some kind of cover up."
"Maybe."
To avoid debris in the road Cole had to slow down to make a sharp turn where he stopped the car. A few blocks ahead of them they could see civilians. Hundreds of them.
The white van slammed into the back of the Dodge crushing the trunk. Shelly screamed as she felt her head smash into the dashboard again opening a sore above her brow. Cole broke his nose on the steering wheel as blood sprayed onto his face. The trio in the white van stepped out onto the street while two of them held a shotgun. The third had an uzi.
Cole turned around with blood in his eyes trying to see what was happening. He saw three silhouettes cautiously walking toward them.
"I don't think we're going to make it." He glanced over at Shelly who had a red river running down her timid face.
"Maybe it's for the best." The civilians were ambling toward them like a mob with thier arms out. Shelly watched as they came closer in the dawning sun. "What's that about?"
"Survivors?"
"No one could have survived what happened here. An explosion that could do this wouldn't leave anything alive."
"Why would you do this?"
Cole lifted his eyes to Marcus who stood at the driver side window holding his .12 gauge across his chest. "Hello, Marcus."
"Why would you make us drive all the way out here for a little pussy. Is she really worth all this trouble?"
Clive was standing at the hood of the Dodge holding his shotgun at Cole through the cracks in the windshield that ran the entire length. Sean was examining the front of the van that merged together with the car's trunk.
"I hope we can get out of this place. The van's pretty fucked up."
"Speaking of this place, what the hell happened here?" Clive shouted.
"Lets keep things in perspective, guys," Marcus turned his attention back to Cole. "Now, where's the key?"
"We don't have it."
"I'm not gonna hesitate, Cole. What I'm gonna do is ask you one more time. If you give me any more bullshit I'm gonna fire this Remington into that bitch's face. Then I'm gonna ask you again. Any more bullshit and you don't want to know what I'm gonna do. Now where's the key?"
"Are you sure you wanna do this with all those witnesses." Shelly pointed down the street.
"Who the fuck are they?"
"I told you we should have waited." Clive said. He looked down at his feet to find some kind of notebook, torn with the edges burned. Not knowing why he bent over to pick it up. "Hey, I think I found something."
"Did you find something or you think you found something."
"I found something." The pages were stuck together leaving only a few pages readable. He opened the book to find that it was a journal written by hand in blue ink.
May 23,
My son came home today from playing in the woods near that mansion on the hill. He's been going up there quite often these past few weeks. I wonder what he does? Sometimes I worry about what could be out there. I've been hearing a lot of stories lately about animals being found half eaten near the edge of the woods. Maybe a pack of wolves have been hunting in the area. Maybe not.
May 25,
I've tried to keep Bobby in the house recently but he never listens to me. I don't know what happened, he seems to be in some kind of shock. He came home with his arm bleeding and his skin pale. I think he was bit by something. After taking him to the emergency room at the hospital he was able to utter a few words. "Cold...his skin was cold...he's dead...he bit me..."
May 29,
Bobby isn't getting any better. I've taken him home so he could be more comfortable.
June 6,
My boy is dead. He came into my room last night. When I woke I found him standing over me. At first I thought he was sleepwalking but he was staring right at me. "Hungry." Was all that he said. Then he bit my shoulder. I couldn't believe it. His flesh was cold and covered in lesions. His eyes were glazed over. I knew he was dead. Dead but still hungry. Running out of the house I tried to find help but no one would help me. Did they think it was a joke? I went to the hospital and decided that I was going to stay the night.
June 7,
I went home this morning. Bobby was gone. There was a man waiting for me at the door. He claims to work with some organiztion called Umbrella. They took my son's body and wanted to run some tests on me at thier facility. I refused.
June 9,
I'm writting this now because I don't think I have much longer. Over the past two days I have gotten sick. Weak. Hungry. Whatever I eat nothing seems to satisfy my gluttony. That is until I tasted Sammy, Bobby's dog. What am I becoming. Outside I can hear the banging of someone at the front door. It's one of the men from Umbrella. I don't think they're going to take no for an answer.
"She ate her fucking dog?"
"What?" Marcus asked.
"I don't think we wanna know what happened in this town." Clive said.
"What did you find?"
Clive turned around to look at the people staggering down the street. He could see there was something wrong with them. They moved as if thier bodies were stiff, as if they had gone through rigor mortis. They wore shredded clothes exposing sores on thier livid flesh that peeled from the rotten meat on thier bones. Clive could see a glaze over thier eyes, the same glaze that Bobby had gotten.
"I think we have to get out of here people."
"What are you talking about?" Sean walked over to his side.
"I don't think they're here to welcome us into thier city."
Marcus raised his Remington. "What are they?"
"They look infected with something." Sean said.
"This journal talked about a kid who was biten by something in the woods. After a few days he was dead but still walking around." He dropped the book to the ground pumping a shell into his shotgun. "He tried to eat his own mother while she was in bed."
"Jesus Christ."
The ghouls were only a few feet away. "So, what the fuck are we suppose to do?"
"Try to survive." Sean pulled the trigger of his uzi letting the bullets rip across the mob as they reached for him. Thier skin tore open as bits of muscle and coagulated blood sprayed onto the street. This seemed to only slow them down.
Clive pulled the trigger of his .12 gauge causing a thunderous BOOM. A nurse that was still wearing her purple scrubs collapsed onto the road with her head missing. "In the head, get them in the fucking head."
"Back to the van." Marcus called out.
Cole opened the car door with his two Barrettas drawn. "Stay in the car." He told Shelly. Holding a 9mm in each hand he began to fire into the crowd watching the carcasses fall to the ground with every head shot.
Marcus sat in the driver seat of the van trying to start the engine with the key still in the ignition. He could hear the horrible wet sounds of the approaching creatures as the motor heaved under the pressure and smoke began to rise from under the mangled hood. "God-damn it, the fucker's dead."
"What did you expect after ramming us like that!" Cole shouted at him.
"I'll tell you what I didn't expect. I didn't expect to find fucking zombies prowling for thier next meal in a fucking ghost town!"
"Will all of you just get in the car!" Shelly was behind the wheel with the engine already running. Cole pulled the back door open getting inside as he emptied the clips in both guns.
"Are you coming, Marcus?"
He got out of the van rushing to the Dodge. Sean climbed into the front seat with Shelly as Clive hurried to the back. "Now get this piece of shit in gear."
She hit the gas but the car didn't move. They could hear the tires picking up a lot of smoke on the asphalt but they weren't getting anywhere. "Now what?"
"We're fused to the fucking van!" A teenage girl wearing a highschool cheerleader outfit slammed against the driver side window clawing at the glass. She had dark bruises around her throat as if she had been strangled. Shelly could see in this young girl face that she had once been beautiful before this plague had taken effect. Most likely invited to all the parties and raves. But now none of that mattered. All that mattered was the insanity and hunger behind her crazed eyes.
"Floor it, we can still break loose!" Cole shouted from the back seat. Two other cadavers fell onto the hood of the car reaching for the fresh meat inside. They were both in swat team uniforms with ghastly burns on thier exposed tissue. "Floor it, Shelly!"
She watched the speedometer rise to ninty-five...ninty-six...ninty-seven. The shrieking sound of tearing metal was deafening as the Dodge ripped itself free of the van racing down the road into the sea of bodies. They all felt the car shake everytime someone fell under the tires leaving scarlet streaks on the black rubber. Several of the dead hammered against the hood painting it with drops of human liquid and gristle. It wasn't long before they were clear of the ravenous mass and into the open space of the city.
"Now, get us the fuck out of this city." Clive muttered.
"What happens then?" Shelly asked.
"What do you mean?"
"She means are you gonna kill us after we saved your ass?" Cole responded.
"What do you think, Marcus?" Sean looked back at him staring out the window.
"I think we lost them over in Willoughby."
"Thank you." Shelly said.
"Just get us out of here."
On the streets a few of the languid cadavers ambled around aimlessly when a dark figure dashed in front of the Dodge. Instinctively Shelly swerved to avoid hitting whatever it was. The car smashed violently into one of the few buildings that was still standing on its hinges. It was a warehouse that had cement walls that were five feet thick. Orange flames danced on the engine trying to escape from under the hood.
"What the hell are you doing?" Sean yelled at her.
"I'm sorry. I saw a dog."
"So, we're going to be eaten alive by those things out there because you saw a fucking dog. Why couldn't you swerve away from the concrete wall? Why did you have to swerve into it?"
"I think we better do something besides argue because the car is on fire and our friends out there are coming this way." Cole was looking out the back window watching a few dozen of the dead turn toward the wreckage. "This isn't good."
"Our best bet is to break into that warehouse. If we can lock ourselves inside they won't be able to get in." Marcus suggested.
"You're assuming that none of them are in there already." Clive stepped out into the morning sun. He could smell the rancid odor of decay in the stale air as the ghouls came closer.
"Have you got a better idea?"
"He's right, the warehouse is our only chance." Cole followed Marcus out of the car as the others got out. "How are you three on ammo?"
"Could be better. Most of our shit is in the van."
"That doesn't help us. We're just going to have to work with what we got." He walked over to Shelly handing her one of his Berrettas. "Take this. I think you might need it."
"I'm sorry about this."
"Don't sweat it. We're still alive so let's make every second count." He led the group over to the front door of the warehouse to find a cardkey panel with a series of numbers under it. Above the steel door was the companies logo, a picture of an open umbrella with red and white stripes. "Does anybody have a cardkey?"
Clive reached for the handle pulling open the door. "There's no power, nimrod."
Shelly smiled at Cole as they entered the shadows of the interior. Beams of light shining through the broken windows illuminated the clutter of the warehouse. The ceiling was nearly sixty feet high with a number of rafters at the top shrouded in tangled cobwebs. Metal beams supported the structure, keeping it from crumbling to the ground. There were several cubicles at the far left corner of the building that had blank monitors sitting on the desks. Rows of empty shelves that reached up to the high ceiling filled most of the space with a couple of forklifts lined against the wall. Typed papers that had colorful graphs on them and hollow boxes with the company logo were scattered about the floor.
The rusted hinges on the door squealed as Cole slammed it shut.
"What is this place?" Shelly wondered examining one of the papers on the floor.
"Umbrella."
"And what's Umbrella?"
"Most likely the company that destroyed this place," Clive said. "They knew what was going on according to the writing in that journal. Actually, hell, they were the ones who probably started the whole fucking thing in the first place and when they're experiments started killing off the local folk, instead of taking responsibility for what they did, they packed up thier shit and blew the whole-damn town up."
"What kind of experiments?" Marcus asked.
"The kind of experiments that bring the dead back to life."
"Why would somebody want to create monsters?"
"Biological warefare." Clive answered.
From somewhere in the shadows they could hear a sequence of clicking as if something were tapping on the cement floor. Click-clack...click-clack...click-clack.
"Okay, now what the fuck is that?"
"Do you really want to know, Sean?"
"Where is it coming from?" Cole was turning his vision of site from one side of the room to the other trying to find whatever was making that noise. Click-clack...click-clack...click-clack. The sound was echoing off the walls making it impossible to locate. He slammed a fresh clip into the 9mm tossing another one to Shelly.
"I'm begining to think this was a bad idea." Sean saw a glimpse of a silhouette moving behind the shelves. "There it is!"
"Where?"
"Over there." He pointed his uzi.
"What did you see?"
"Whatever I saw it wasn't human."
Click-clack...click-clack...-click-clack. The figure stepped out from behind one of the shelves watching his prey. It was a Doberman pinscher.
"Is that the dog that got us into this situation?" Clive asked.
"I don't know."
There was something unusual about this animal but they weren't sure what it was. It took a step foward into the sunlight with its lips curled back in a snarl. The flesh on this dog had been peeled away to expose the wet mustle beneath as the veins and nerve endings appeared to pulse with every hearbeat. Three more Dobermans came around the corner.
"Jesus-Fucking-Christ!"
The dogs pounced. Clive ran as one of them gave chase across the warehouse. He reached an open office door slamming it shut behind him as the skinless Doberman crashed into it shaking the frame. Cole held his gun out pulling the trigger as two of the dogs leapt at him snapping thier slobbering jaws. The 9mm jammed.
He lowered the weapon knowing his fate about to come.
"Cole!" Marcus shouted. He tossed the Remington at him watching him catch it with perfect ease. With no hesitation Cole turned toward the dogs firing the shotgun. The blast knocked one of them to the floor nearly torn in half with its entrails spilling out in a red heap. He pumped another shell into the chamber pulling the trigger again. BOOM. The second creature fell into a pool of its own brain matter. Sean emptied his uzi into the remaining Dobermans riddling thier mangled bodies with cold steel.
"And that's that." He suddenly felt something wet embrace his body as everything went black. Sean was lifted off the ground as a piercing agony ripped into his spine. His chest cavity collapsed under the crushing pressure while the others watched as the Copperhead swallowed him whole. The monstrous snake was seventy-five feet long dropping down from the rafters above.
"Does this never end!" Shelly screamed.
Marcus pulled out a .38 Special from the holster under his jacket as they all began to shoot thier weapons. The snake curled into a striking position as the bullets ripped into the reptilian skin with no avail. Shelly backed away toward one of the forklifts while she finished off the clip in her gun. Dropping the Barretta to the ground she ran toward the vehicle in a wild sprint. The Copperhead shot its head down with an amazing speed biting into Marcus. Cole could hear his muffled screams in the maw of the beast as he went down the snakes throat.
Shelly climbed into the forklift hoping there was enough juice in the battery.
* * * * *
Clive sat behind the desk in the office looking over the paper that he found in the old typewriter. Whoever was the author had never finished because the ink ribbon had dried out.
July 14,
I have been working for Umbrella now for nearly two years. I can't believe that I trusted them and at one time believed in thier work. Now I know the truth, I have seen it. I have seen what's below the city. Last night I went into one of the labs to find animal experimentation. It was horrible. Animals that have mutated into monsters. Genetic weapons. I have heard about thier human experiments, also and tonight I will get the evidence that I need. My contact has given me a gold cardkey that should give me full access. They can't get away with this. I won't let them. If I fail I can't imagine what will become of Raccoon City. I can only pray.
July 15,
I have pictures now. I also have a sample of the virus that Umbrella will sell to the highest bidder as a biological weapon. This new creation is called the T-Virus. I'm meeting someone tonight from Channel 48. Umbrella will be exposed and I will expose them. I just have to make it through the next few hours.
He had written more but the print faded to a dim blur and Clive couldn't make out the rest.
"Poor son-of-a-bitch, I wonder what Umbrella did to him." He saw something move across the desk. It was a shadow that had been there the entire time, a shadow that fell across the desk and onto the floor. Clive slowly turned his head up toward the ceiling. tarantula
A tarantula was casting the shadow with its eight legs reaching out to all four corners of the office. Clive could see its body was covered with coarse hairs and many black eyes that were the size of dinner plates. He saw his reflection in those eyes as the massive arachnid prepared to attack. Reaching for the shotgun that leaned against the desk he knew that it was too late. The spider dropped to the ground capturing its prey. Clive felt the power of the creature as it tore open his rib cage with its ample fangs. He held the shotgun to its underbelly pulling the trigger.
* * * * *
The forklift slammed into the Copperhead tearing into its meat with the steel prongs. They ripped out the other side of its body crashing into the wall. To his amazement Cole saw that Shelly was able to pin the snake against the wall with the forklift. It wrapped its long body around the machine trying to crush the metal. Shelly rushed out as the forklift began to buckle under the pressure crumbling into the tightening body of the Copperhead. An expanding pool of blood seeped out from around the reptile as it appeared to weaken.
"Where's Clive?" She asked Cole.
"I haven't seen him."
The snake's head flopped to the cement with a heavy THUD.
"How many more shells do you have in that thing?"
"Not enough. Take the clip out of my Barretta for the one I gave you." Outside the cadavers reached in through the broken windows trying to climb inside. "I suggest you do it fast."
The front door burst open as the unburied dead staggered in one after the other. A naked woman was the first to enter with an oozing gash on both of her wrists. She would have been sexy if her rotten skin hadn't been covered in festering sores that seem to move with the vermin that fed on them. Her arms reached out for them as her friends gathered behind her.
"Right there."
Shelly loaded the 9mm with the clip looking up to where Cole was pointed. There was a crack in the cement that yawned into a hole spilling out darkness. "I hope you're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting."
"What do you think I'm suggesting?"
"I think you want us to drop into that hole and if that is what you want us do you've got to be insane. Who knows what could be down there."
"It can't be any worse than up here, now come on."
Shelly walked over to Cole looking into the hollow. "We don't even know how deep it is." She sat down with her legs dangling in the opening as Cole took arms lowering her into the unknown. "If we die we all know who to point the finger at."
He let her slip from his fingers listening to her slam against the hard ground. "Are you okay?"
"Just fine, asshole. I think it's some kind of underground sewer system."
"Okay, I'm coming down." Picking up his shotgun he jumped through the crack landing on his feet. "We're gonna have to be fast. I don't think those motherfuckers up there are gonna be afraid to follow us."
The naked suicide victim was already looking down at them.
"So, which way?" Shelly asked. They were at an intersection that lead in four directions. The walls were covered with dripping slime with rusty pipes exposed near the top leaking waste onto the wet ground. There was a distant light in the passageway ahead of them.
"I think I see something up there. It could be a way out."
"And if it's not?"
"Then we're fucked either way so just follow me." They began thier journey toward the light with the stink of sewage all around them. Cole thought he could hear something that seem to be moving toward them. A chirping sound. "Do you hear that?"
"What?"
"It sounds like a bird."
"What the hell would a bird be doing in the sewers?"
"Maybe it'll be the size of a house." Cole laughed.
"Please don't joke about that."
The closer the chirping got the more positive Cole became that it wasn't only a bird but a flock of birds flying down one of the corridors. He prepared the Remington as ten of them came into sight. They were crows.
Cole fired before they could attack taking out three of them with the buckshots. Black feathers expoded everywhere as the remaining seven began to feed. Shelly could feel her skin tear open as several of the crows dug thier sharp beaks into her. She held out the 9mm pulling the trigger as fast as she could. A bullet hit one of the birds ripping into its neck. It dropped to the wet cement still trying to move its wings. Cole shredded two more of the birds as he felt them scratching at his face.
The four crows that were still alive escaped down one of the dark tunnels like cowards. When Cole glanced over at Shelly he could see that she was in tears. He stepped over gently embracing her.
"I'm sorry I did this."
"What do you mean?" She looked up into his eyes.
"I brought you here. It's my fault."
"After my mother was murdered it was hard for me to find a reason to live. I killed my sister hoping to find some kind of peace. That peace never came and so I waited for death knowing that it would come because Yablans would come for me. But when he did he sent you into my life giving me hope and for the first time in a long while I wanted to live. You gave me that, so even if we never make it out of this town I'll always love you."
Cole didn't know what to say so he just held her in his arms without saying a word.
A sudden pain filled Shelly's womb as if someone had stabbed her.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Maybe we should get moving."
"Good idea." Shelly said.
They walked for over an hour watching the light grow at the end of the passageway. Shelly stared down at her feet as they stepped one after the other with her hands nestled in the warm pockets of her sister's overcoat. She felt something against her fingers. It was something small, something hard. She pulled out the key that had been in her pocket the entire time.
"I don't believe it."
"What?" Cole asked.
"The key." Shelly held it up to the light where she could see the numbers 1506 etched into the metal surface. "My sister had it in her jacket."
"Than I suggest we go back to the city and get paid."
"How much did you say could be in there?"
"Most likely we're talking about at least fifty thousand bills."
"I've never even seen that much money."
"Well, I think it's about time you have."
They could see sunlight sneaking in through the opening that lead out into Raccoon City. Several cadavers blocking the exit wandered toward them reaching for thier meal. One of them was a boy, that couldn't have been more than ten years old, wearing a black suit as if he just come from a funereal. Possibly he had been the one in the casket.
"How many more bullets do you have, Shelly?"
"Not many."
"Stay behind me." Clive edged his way closer to the sunlight holding the barrel of his shotgun to the oncoming dead. He pulled the trigger watching the buckshots tear into the boy's face. Two of the deceased pushed him against a rusted gate that closed off a room with a two hundred foot drop. Clive tried to push the zombies away but was forced back against the hard metal as another corpse grabbed ahold of him. Shelly lifted her arm pointing the 9mm at a fat man dressed in drag with his blond wig fallen askew. She fired the gun as the cross-dresser fell to the ground with a seeping hole in his cranium. The clip in the Barretta was empty before she noticed the hinges on the gate begin to give way. Clive was able to place the barrel of the .12 gauge under the chin of one of the cadavers. He pulled the trigger feeling a wet spray against his face.
Shelly ran over to him as the metal gate tore free dropping into the pit with Clive following it down. He splashed into a deep cavern that was filled with a pasty sewage as the two zombies went under water with him. Gasping for air he looked up at Shelly.
"I don't think I'll be able to climb back up."
"What should I do?"
"Get the fuck out of here!"
"I'm not gonna leave you."
"Don't worry, I'll find a way out and meet you outside."
"Where?"
"Get back to Willoughby, I'll meet you there."
"You better be there."
"I said don't worry." He watched her disappear over the edge as he floundered in the muck. Only one of the dead bodies had come back up. He splashed the water with his arms trying to remember how to swim.
"Looks like you're shit-out-of-luck, pal." The creature was jerked under the sewage as if something powerful had gotten ahold of him. There was nothing but silence as the waves on the water began to settle. "Looks like I'm shit-out-of-luck."
Cole saw something surface across the room. Something large.
As it began to swim towards him he could see the green pebbled skin on its back. It was an alligator with a body larger than a fire engine. Cole closed his eyes as he felt the gator's massive jaws snap shut around him.
* * * * *
Shelly had made it out of Raccoon City without further incident. She walked alongside the road weary to her surroundings of shrubs and pinetrees. Her eyes filled with tears knowing that she would never see Cole again. Never feel his touch or know what it could have been like to be loved by him. She had heard him scream before he was pulled under the water. Shelly knew him for only a few hours but her love for him would be eternal.
A sharp pain filled her womb again as if something were tearing at her insides. She screamed as she dropped to her knees on the road. What if she had been infected by whatever it was that infected all those people in Raccoon City? What if her unborn child was infected? Shelly pulled up her shirt to expose her rounded stomach as something pushed against it under the flesh. Blood splashed onto the asphalt as her belly was torn open. She saw the dead fetus eating its way out into the world as she fell into the cold embrace of death.
Her child had become part of the resident evil.
THE END
She rested on the soft pillow with her eyes closed waiting to be taken by the Sandman. Staring into the darkness behind her eyelids Rita could see her mother. A bullethole bled from her forehead leaving a red river down her face. Her Cranium had been blown open exposing what was left of the grey matter that seemed to be swiming in cranberry juice. On her face was the _expression of a daughter's betrayal.
"Forgiveness can be a necessity to those who seek it."
Rita was unable to open her eyes under the weight of the pills but she could feel the pressure of someone kneeling on the mattress at the foot of the bed. And when the intruder spoke it was the voice of someone familiar. More than familiar, it was a voice that she has had to listen her entire life.
"But to many it is a luxury. A luxury you will never get from me."
"Shelly?" Her lips felt numb as Rita uttered her sister's name.
"You took her away from me. The only glimmer of light that has made this life endurable."
"She was threatening to call the FBI. She gave me no choice." Rita heard the click of the hammer being cocked on a gun.
"There is always a choice. You came to the crossroads of your life. You had to choose a path and the path that you have chosen has led you to this." She pressed the cold barrel of the .44 revolver to her sister's temple. The same .44 revolver that killed their mother. Rita began to cry. "She gave you exsistance and you took hers away. Tell me something, Rita, did she beg for her life? Was she in tears like you are right now?"
"Please. I don't want to die."
"Neither did our mother." Shelly pulled the trigger. The back of her sister's head exploded on the pillow soaking the fabric in wet pulp and bits of skull fragments. Now she was in a situation that she knew there was no way out of. They would come looking for her but she wouldn't run. She would wait for them and except whatever came.
On her way out the door Shelly picked up her sister's black overcoat that was slung over the purple chair by the door. She slipped it on stepping into the shadows of the bitter night.
* * * * *
It was raining on the day she found her mother's corpse. It was also the day her pregnancy test came back positive. She wasn't sure who the father was but she knew exactly when it happened. Five months ago in August in the alley behind the nightclub, Insomnia. One of the many clubs that was owned and operated by Yablans, Rita's boss. Most of them were fronts for the business that makes him the real money. Importing and exporting guns. Of course the ATF agents who were on the case called it smuggling.
Shelly was leaning against the brick wall next to a dumpster that reeked of stale alcohol and cigarette butts. Her date was still inside dancing with a red head wearing a tight dress that looked as if it were painted on. She didn't have any money and he had the keys to the car and so she was stuck in the worse place she could be stuck. The hip-hop was loud, even outside. At the end of the alley she could see a man hiding in the shadow of the building begin to walk her way. He staggered as if he had had several drinks over his limit.
"Hey, lady, you got a cigarette?"
Three men grabed her from behind. Where they had come from to this day she doesn't know. It was as if they had materialized out of the particles in the air. Shelly could smell the stink on their breath, a stink that would haunt her for years after theropy. They slammed her hard against the wall in the spotlight of a bare lightbulb above the exit. She tried to scream but the music smothered her chaotic shouts for help. A hand with hairy knuckles went up her leather skirt tearing off the red panties that she wore. Her breasts were being brutally violated that would leave dark patches around the nipples as one of the drunks bit her ear drawing blood. They each took turns satisfying themselves between her legs laughing at her tears and profanity.
After about thirty five minutes the ordeal was over. Shelly was on the pavement with blood running down both of her legs. No one came to her rescue. She was alone.
The men were all strangers and she couldn't remember their faces. Only their stinking breath. She filed a report with the police but it would amount to nothing.
When she skipped her time of the month in June she tried to assure herself that it was only brought on by stress. But the home pregnancy test would prove otherwise. Shelly didn't know what to do. What were her options? Abortion. But she couldn't. She couldn't prevent a life from being what it's meant to be. "Everything happens for a reason" her mother had always said. "There are no coincidences. Only fate." Pearls of wisdom. She had to go to her mother. Find out what she thinks of the situation.
Standing on the front porch her sister opened the door before she could knock.
"What are you doing here, Rita?"
But she didn't answer. She only looked at her with a sadness in her eye that Shelly had never seen before. Something was wrong. Rita walked down the steps into the rain holding something in her left hand. Something that looked like a gun.
Shelly turned to the opened door pushing it wide to walk in. Her mother was laying on the hardwood floor as an expanding pool of redness swelled around her torso.
"Mom?" Shelly whispered knowing there would be no reply.
* * * * *
Cole stood in front of Yablans' desk in his office on the second floor of his nightclub, Broken Dreams. His regular client sat behind his computer wearing a dark suit with potato chip crumbs on his blue tie. He was a heavyset man who had his first heart attack when he was thirty two. By the time he was forty he had had two more. He crushed the cherry of his cigarette into the skull ashtray next to the keyboard. Cole slipped his hands into the pockets of his black vest that he wore over the green button down shirt.
"I want her dead. She killed her sister and stole the key." Yablans lit another cigarette with his Zippo lighter. "I want that key back and I want a bullet in that bitch's heart."
"What's the key for?"
"Lockbox at the airport. What's in it is my business. Your business is to use your talents to get back what belongs to me and to make sure that that fucking family has a group funeral. Do we understand each other?"
"Loud and clear."
"You'll get paid the usual. Debra's outside, she'll take care of the bill and anything else you might need." He pointed a fat finger to the door giving Cole the sign to leave.
* * * * *
In the early ninties Cole had served in the United States Army and was shipped to the Gulf. He had seen combat and the bloodshed that came with it. Near the end of the war he found himself lost somewhere in the desert behind enemy lines. He had been shot in his leg just above the knee with his squad nowhere to be seen. Sweating and hungry his only companion was the enemy sitting across from him in the trench.
They held their guns to each other for three hours before calling it truths. The soilder spoke perfect english and was a fan of the Dallas Cowboys. Speaking long into the evening they realized that in any other situation they could have been friends. He was Cole's enemy only because he was told so by his superiors. Only because of the uniform on his back. Was it his fault that he was born in the country he was born in? Raised to believe what he believes in?
"Here." The soilder handed Cole a yellow hankerchief that he pulled out of his pocket. "You can stop the bleeding with this."
He took the rag putting pressure against the seeping wound. "Thanks."
In any other situation.
Four bullets exploded into his chest knocking him on his back. The soilder was dead before he could see the american standing at the top of the trench.
"What the fuck are you doing, Cole? Chit-chating with the enemy?" Cole looked up at his rescuer. For a split moment he was ashamed to be an american.
The hitman could remember that day as if it were happening now. He took the yellow hankerchief tying it around his palm. Cole settled himself on the grassy hill as he ballanced the rifle on the ground. She was in the cross hair of the scope sitting at a park bench with her hands on her knees.
He was following orders again, had been all of his life. This lady was no more an enemy than that soilder back in the desert. In any other situation she could have been a friend. A lover.
Cole slowly placed his finger on the trigger.
* * * * *
Shelly felt the tears on her cheeks as she watched the lady push her daughter on the chain swing. Memories of her mother came like a flood drowning every other thought that lingered in her mind. She could remember when she was a little girl watching her mother, who thought Shelly was asleep, put a quarter under her pillow for the tooth that she had lost. She could remember staying up all night with her mother holding her close when her prom date didn't show up. She could remember crying at her side the night her father had died of a stroke.
The lady laughed with her daughter as she yelled that she wanted to go higher.
"Higher, Mommy, higher!"
She wiped away the tears with the back of her hand only to have more stream down her face. Shelly wanted to join her mother and as she looked up at the hill across the street she knew that her time had come. The dark figure was on his stomach looking at her though the scope of a high powered rifle. Holding her arms out as if to embrace the man she rose to her feet with her eyes closed.
It's coming, she thought.
But it never did. When she opened her eyes the man was gone as if he were a dream.
Was there no mercy?
* * * * *
Halloween came with the usual children in costumes scavenging the neighborhood for candy. Eggs were thrown at cars and toilet paper was thrown up in trees, nothing unusual for Ocotber 31st. It had always been Shelly's favorite holiday ever since she was a kid. The first cotume that she had ever worn was a costume of Linda Blaire from The Exorcist. Her mother had bought the blue nightgown while her uncle did the make up. He took her mattress out on the front lawn and tied her up with torn sheets. Not one kid that came to their front door didn't run away screaming. Shelly's father, however, hated Halloween and spent that night in front of the television watching the news with a beer in his hand.
The same way she was spending Halloween almost twenty years later.
Shelly was sitting in the white recliner watching Hellraiser on the Sci-Fi Channel. Horror had always been her favorite in cinema, ever since her uncle had rented John Carpenter's The Thing for them to watch together. He was living in the basement of her house which her father had fixed up into a guest bedroom. His brother was going to the university, majoring in broadcast journalism, but the dorms had all been taken by students from out of state. Interning at channel twelve at $5.25 an hour, 20 hours a week, didn't pay the bills and so he was invited to stay in the guestroom until summer break. Shelly felt a sudden connection with her uncle who had always stood up for her whenever her father would raise a fist to her. And the more he drank the more often that became. It was on one of these nights, her father had recently lost his job at the warehouse and he was looking for a new one at the bottom of a Budwiser, that her father had his stroke. Shelly was doing her homework when she was interupted by her bedroom door crashing open. He stood there with his red eyes gleaming at her as if he didn't know what he was suppose to do next. Frustrated he threw his beer can at her, which hadn't been opened, hitting her square in the chest. The wind was knocked out of her and for a moment she couldn't breath. That moment seem to last a lifetime.
Pain began to clamp her lungs as she fought for air. She slammed her hands onto the desk knocking her world history book to the floor with her homework.
"I'm sorry." Her father said.
When she was able to catch her breath and get her breathing under control again she looked back over to where he was standing. For a second she only saw an empty doorway leading into the hall. He must have gone to get another beer. But than she saw the figure slumped againt the wall.
Her father died that night in the hospital.
"What's your pleasure, Mr. Cotton?"
"The box."
"Take it, it's yours. It always was."
Shelly turned away from the TV raising the bottle of gin to her lips. The liquor stung washing down her throat warming her insides. She had nobody anymore.
She was alone.
There was a knock at the door with the sound of laughing children. Shelly set the bottle onto the coffee table walking into the other room. Picking up the bag of Snikers on the kichen table, to hand out to the little beggers, she swaggered over to the front door. The air was cool outside with a heavy wind that picked up the falled leaves on the ground. Four children stood in front of her holding out their bags, each wearing a cheap costume that their mothers had bought for them at Walmart. There was the typical Vampire, Harry Potter, a clown, and what would Halloween be without a witch.
"Trick or Treat."
She handed each of them a candybar then turned to close the door. Not one of them said thank you. That was when she made the dissension not to answer the door for the remainder of the night. Before the door could shut all the way Shelly felt someone holding it open. There was a man standing where the children had once been. Three other men stood behind him all wearing dark suits.
"Shelly Curtis?"
Maybe her time had come after all. The man in front of her pulled out a 9mm semi automatic gloc from inside of his coat. She held her ground as he pointed the barrel center mass ready to put a bullet in her heart. Shelly closed her eyes waiting for The Reapers cold touch.
BANG
When she felt no pain she opened her eyes to see what happened. The man with the 9mm was at her feet bleeding from the hole in his chest. She looked up as the other men pulled out their guns turning toward their assailant. Before any of them could pull the trigger bullets began to rip though their suits as red fluid splashed onto the sidewalk behind them. Several children screamed as the men hit the ground with their blood already running cold. A stranger walked up to the door stepping over the dead bodies. He slid the two Barrettas into the holsters under his black vest.
"Where's the key?"
"What?" Shelly asked not knowing what he was talking about.
"Your sister had a key, where is it?"
"I've seen you before. You were at the park this afternoon."
"That doesn't matter," Cole said. "But what does matter is that key."
"I don't have any key."
Cole was silent for a moment thinking about the situation. "Fine, than we have to leave."
"What are you talking about?"
"There are more men on the other side of this apartment complex and they're gonna be over here as soon as they realize what happened and we don't want to be here when they come running around that corner shotguns in hand."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Do you want to die?"
When Shelly looked into the strangers eyes she could see genuine concern and for the first time since her mother's death she wanted to see what the next moment would bring. "No."
"Than get your jacket and let's move."
She sat in the speeding Dodge wearing her sister's black overcoat watching the houses on both sides of the road rush by. They were homes to families that were just getting ready for dinner. Parents who still had thier children, children who still had thier parents. The evening sky was tinted a red hue as the sun shrank behind the distant mountains on the horizon. Over that horizon was where her new life would be found. A new life with the child that nestled in her womb. And possibly a friend.
"So, who are you?" She asked the man behind the wheel.
"I'm the one who was hired to kill you."
"What happened?"
"Some people shouldn't die that way. Some people deserve a chance."
"A chance at what?"
"Happiness, I guess."
"That train left the station a long time ago."
"If it were anybody else I wouldn't have hesitated to pull the trigger. It would have been like a few days ago. Quick, easy. My target was a guy selling armor piercing bullets. Armor piercing bullets that can tear through the side of a car and out the other end no problem. A bullet proof vest would be a piece of cake, like shooting through cardboard. Anyway, he was selling these fuckers to the Wongs."
"The Wongs?" Outside the red hue in the sky darkened to a deep purple.
"Badass nips that came from Hong Kong. They've been dipping into Yablans' business and Yablans doesn't like that so he doesn't like them. So he's going to make damn sure that they don't get thier hands on those armor piercing bullets. I was sent into the equation with my rifle. The day he was suppose to make the deal with the Wongs I watched him though my scope walk out onto his front lawn. He was dead before he hit the morning due on the grass. Motherfuckers like that I got no problem pulling the trigger. But you were different. I don't know why but I couldn't do it. If you don't have the key than it wasn't for profit."
"She killed our mother. That's why I did it. I've never seen this key you keep mentioning."
"It opens a lockbox at the airport. I'm guessing there's money inside. And if Yablans is willing to hire me to pop you I'm guessing there's a lot of money inside."
"Is that the real reason you spared me?"
"If that were the real reason I spared you we wouldn't be here right now because you don't have the key. If I wanted that money, when I found out that you didn't have the key I would have taken you out right then and there. But that's not the real reason I spared you."
"What's your name?"
"Cole."
They drove into the night as a blanket of stars began to come out shining down onto the mountainous landscape that surrounded them. A few miles back a white van followed them out of the city keeping its distance. Inside the van Yablans' men listened to the radio as Rob Zombie pounded from the speakers. "Crawl on me, sink into me, die for me. Living dead girl."
* * * * *
Morning came with the sun peaking over the pine trees on the road ride. The Dodge had only stopped once all night to get gas in a small town, Willoughby, that was nothing but farmland. That was near three o'clock, over two hundred miles back, and they hadn't seen civiliazation since.
"Look, there's nobody around and I haven't seen a cop all night, so why don't we just drive the motherfuckers off the god-damn road."
Clive glance over at Marcus sitting in the passenger seat with a cigarette between his lips. He had been driving for almost twelve hours and wanted nothing more than a pillow. But there would be no sleep until they got that key and the two runaways got a taste of thier grave. "That's a great idea. Get ready for some road-rage, boys." Clive pressed his boot to the gas pedal.
The Dodge was about two miles ahead of them but they made that distance in no time at all. They passed a sign, the only sign they've seen since Willoughby, that had bold white letters fading with age.
Raccoon City, five miles.
"You better hurry your ass up, Clive. We only got five miles."
"Maybe we should wait to see if they stop."
"Fuck that, man, floor it." Sean yelled from the back.
He did as he was told.
Looking into the rearview mirror Cole could see the white van approaching with a deadly speed. "We've got company."
"Can we outrun them?"
"I guess we're about to find out."
"Try to make it to the city." Outside Shelly noticed that there had recently been a fire in the woods. Trees had fallen to the ground naked with thier bark burned down to a black covering. The earth seemed to be covered with ash and the road had deep cracks running into the pavement. It was like a bomb had gone off.
"What happened here?"
"Looks like a fire." Cole said.
"What about the cracks in the road?" The white van slammed into the rear bumper at seventy-five miles an hour causing Shelly to slam her head into the dashboard. She turned her head to the van watching it speed over to the side of the Dodge. "Faster!" She yelled.
"I'm going!" Cole yelled back. He pushed the car as the speedometer rose to nearly ninty. The van slowly fell behind. "No way that piece of shit can hit ninty."
Shelly could see the buildings ahead of them now as they reached the city limits. There was no traffic or pedestrians walking the streets. There was only an uncomfortable stillness and the ruins of a city long abandoned. Most of the offices and homes were incinerared to piles of rubble. Only a few were left standing after what had to be a massive explosion.
"I don't believe this." She whispered.
"Could have been a terrorist act."
"Something this big I think we would have seen on CNN."
"Maybe there was some kind of cover up."
"Maybe."
To avoid debris in the road Cole had to slow down to make a sharp turn where he stopped the car. A few blocks ahead of them they could see civilians. Hundreds of them.
The white van slammed into the back of the Dodge crushing the trunk. Shelly screamed as she felt her head smash into the dashboard again opening a sore above her brow. Cole broke his nose on the steering wheel as blood sprayed onto his face. The trio in the white van stepped out onto the street while two of them held a shotgun. The third had an uzi.
Cole turned around with blood in his eyes trying to see what was happening. He saw three silhouettes cautiously walking toward them.
"I don't think we're going to make it." He glanced over at Shelly who had a red river running down her timid face.
"Maybe it's for the best." The civilians were ambling toward them like a mob with thier arms out. Shelly watched as they came closer in the dawning sun. "What's that about?"
"Survivors?"
"No one could have survived what happened here. An explosion that could do this wouldn't leave anything alive."
"Why would you do this?"
Cole lifted his eyes to Marcus who stood at the driver side window holding his .12 gauge across his chest. "Hello, Marcus."
"Why would you make us drive all the way out here for a little pussy. Is she really worth all this trouble?"
Clive was standing at the hood of the Dodge holding his shotgun at Cole through the cracks in the windshield that ran the entire length. Sean was examining the front of the van that merged together with the car's trunk.
"I hope we can get out of this place. The van's pretty fucked up."
"Speaking of this place, what the hell happened here?" Clive shouted.
"Lets keep things in perspective, guys," Marcus turned his attention back to Cole. "Now, where's the key?"
"We don't have it."
"I'm not gonna hesitate, Cole. What I'm gonna do is ask you one more time. If you give me any more bullshit I'm gonna fire this Remington into that bitch's face. Then I'm gonna ask you again. Any more bullshit and you don't want to know what I'm gonna do. Now where's the key?"
"Are you sure you wanna do this with all those witnesses." Shelly pointed down the street.
"Who the fuck are they?"
"I told you we should have waited." Clive said. He looked down at his feet to find some kind of notebook, torn with the edges burned. Not knowing why he bent over to pick it up. "Hey, I think I found something."
"Did you find something or you think you found something."
"I found something." The pages were stuck together leaving only a few pages readable. He opened the book to find that it was a journal written by hand in blue ink.
May 23,
My son came home today from playing in the woods near that mansion on the hill. He's been going up there quite often these past few weeks. I wonder what he does? Sometimes I worry about what could be out there. I've been hearing a lot of stories lately about animals being found half eaten near the edge of the woods. Maybe a pack of wolves have been hunting in the area. Maybe not.
May 25,
I've tried to keep Bobby in the house recently but he never listens to me. I don't know what happened, he seems to be in some kind of shock. He came home with his arm bleeding and his skin pale. I think he was bit by something. After taking him to the emergency room at the hospital he was able to utter a few words. "Cold...his skin was cold...he's dead...he bit me..."
May 29,
Bobby isn't getting any better. I've taken him home so he could be more comfortable.
June 6,
My boy is dead. He came into my room last night. When I woke I found him standing over me. At first I thought he was sleepwalking but he was staring right at me. "Hungry." Was all that he said. Then he bit my shoulder. I couldn't believe it. His flesh was cold and covered in lesions. His eyes were glazed over. I knew he was dead. Dead but still hungry. Running out of the house I tried to find help but no one would help me. Did they think it was a joke? I went to the hospital and decided that I was going to stay the night.
June 7,
I went home this morning. Bobby was gone. There was a man waiting for me at the door. He claims to work with some organiztion called Umbrella. They took my son's body and wanted to run some tests on me at thier facility. I refused.
June 9,
I'm writting this now because I don't think I have much longer. Over the past two days I have gotten sick. Weak. Hungry. Whatever I eat nothing seems to satisfy my gluttony. That is until I tasted Sammy, Bobby's dog. What am I becoming. Outside I can hear the banging of someone at the front door. It's one of the men from Umbrella. I don't think they're going to take no for an answer.
"She ate her fucking dog?"
"What?" Marcus asked.
"I don't think we wanna know what happened in this town." Clive said.
"What did you find?"
Clive turned around to look at the people staggering down the street. He could see there was something wrong with them. They moved as if thier bodies were stiff, as if they had gone through rigor mortis. They wore shredded clothes exposing sores on thier livid flesh that peeled from the rotten meat on thier bones. Clive could see a glaze over thier eyes, the same glaze that Bobby had gotten.
"I think we have to get out of here people."
"What are you talking about?" Sean walked over to his side.
"I don't think they're here to welcome us into thier city."
Marcus raised his Remington. "What are they?"
"They look infected with something." Sean said.
"This journal talked about a kid who was biten by something in the woods. After a few days he was dead but still walking around." He dropped the book to the ground pumping a shell into his shotgun. "He tried to eat his own mother while she was in bed."
"Jesus Christ."
The ghouls were only a few feet away. "So, what the fuck are we suppose to do?"
"Try to survive." Sean pulled the trigger of his uzi letting the bullets rip across the mob as they reached for him. Thier skin tore open as bits of muscle and coagulated blood sprayed onto the street. This seemed to only slow them down.
Clive pulled the trigger of his .12 gauge causing a thunderous BOOM. A nurse that was still wearing her purple scrubs collapsed onto the road with her head missing. "In the head, get them in the fucking head."
"Back to the van." Marcus called out.
Cole opened the car door with his two Barrettas drawn. "Stay in the car." He told Shelly. Holding a 9mm in each hand he began to fire into the crowd watching the carcasses fall to the ground with every head shot.
Marcus sat in the driver seat of the van trying to start the engine with the key still in the ignition. He could hear the horrible wet sounds of the approaching creatures as the motor heaved under the pressure and smoke began to rise from under the mangled hood. "God-damn it, the fucker's dead."
"What did you expect after ramming us like that!" Cole shouted at him.
"I'll tell you what I didn't expect. I didn't expect to find fucking zombies prowling for thier next meal in a fucking ghost town!"
"Will all of you just get in the car!" Shelly was behind the wheel with the engine already running. Cole pulled the back door open getting inside as he emptied the clips in both guns.
"Are you coming, Marcus?"
He got out of the van rushing to the Dodge. Sean climbed into the front seat with Shelly as Clive hurried to the back. "Now get this piece of shit in gear."
She hit the gas but the car didn't move. They could hear the tires picking up a lot of smoke on the asphalt but they weren't getting anywhere. "Now what?"
"We're fused to the fucking van!" A teenage girl wearing a highschool cheerleader outfit slammed against the driver side window clawing at the glass. She had dark bruises around her throat as if she had been strangled. Shelly could see in this young girl face that she had once been beautiful before this plague had taken effect. Most likely invited to all the parties and raves. But now none of that mattered. All that mattered was the insanity and hunger behind her crazed eyes.
"Floor it, we can still break loose!" Cole shouted from the back seat. Two other cadavers fell onto the hood of the car reaching for the fresh meat inside. They were both in swat team uniforms with ghastly burns on thier exposed tissue. "Floor it, Shelly!"
She watched the speedometer rise to ninty-five...ninty-six...ninty-seven. The shrieking sound of tearing metal was deafening as the Dodge ripped itself free of the van racing down the road into the sea of bodies. They all felt the car shake everytime someone fell under the tires leaving scarlet streaks on the black rubber. Several of the dead hammered against the hood painting it with drops of human liquid and gristle. It wasn't long before they were clear of the ravenous mass and into the open space of the city.
"Now, get us the fuck out of this city." Clive muttered.
"What happens then?" Shelly asked.
"What do you mean?"
"She means are you gonna kill us after we saved your ass?" Cole responded.
"What do you think, Marcus?" Sean looked back at him staring out the window.
"I think we lost them over in Willoughby."
"Thank you." Shelly said.
"Just get us out of here."
On the streets a few of the languid cadavers ambled around aimlessly when a dark figure dashed in front of the Dodge. Instinctively Shelly swerved to avoid hitting whatever it was. The car smashed violently into one of the few buildings that was still standing on its hinges. It was a warehouse that had cement walls that were five feet thick. Orange flames danced on the engine trying to escape from under the hood.
"What the hell are you doing?" Sean yelled at her.
"I'm sorry. I saw a dog."
"So, we're going to be eaten alive by those things out there because you saw a fucking dog. Why couldn't you swerve away from the concrete wall? Why did you have to swerve into it?"
"I think we better do something besides argue because the car is on fire and our friends out there are coming this way." Cole was looking out the back window watching a few dozen of the dead turn toward the wreckage. "This isn't good."
"Our best bet is to break into that warehouse. If we can lock ourselves inside they won't be able to get in." Marcus suggested.
"You're assuming that none of them are in there already." Clive stepped out into the morning sun. He could smell the rancid odor of decay in the stale air as the ghouls came closer.
"Have you got a better idea?"
"He's right, the warehouse is our only chance." Cole followed Marcus out of the car as the others got out. "How are you three on ammo?"
"Could be better. Most of our shit is in the van."
"That doesn't help us. We're just going to have to work with what we got." He walked over to Shelly handing her one of his Berrettas. "Take this. I think you might need it."
"I'm sorry about this."
"Don't sweat it. We're still alive so let's make every second count." He led the group over to the front door of the warehouse to find a cardkey panel with a series of numbers under it. Above the steel door was the companies logo, a picture of an open umbrella with red and white stripes. "Does anybody have a cardkey?"
Clive reached for the handle pulling open the door. "There's no power, nimrod."
Shelly smiled at Cole as they entered the shadows of the interior. Beams of light shining through the broken windows illuminated the clutter of the warehouse. The ceiling was nearly sixty feet high with a number of rafters at the top shrouded in tangled cobwebs. Metal beams supported the structure, keeping it from crumbling to the ground. There were several cubicles at the far left corner of the building that had blank monitors sitting on the desks. Rows of empty shelves that reached up to the high ceiling filled most of the space with a couple of forklifts lined against the wall. Typed papers that had colorful graphs on them and hollow boxes with the company logo were scattered about the floor.
The rusted hinges on the door squealed as Cole slammed it shut.
"What is this place?" Shelly wondered examining one of the papers on the floor.
"Umbrella."
"And what's Umbrella?"
"Most likely the company that destroyed this place," Clive said. "They knew what was going on according to the writing in that journal. Actually, hell, they were the ones who probably started the whole fucking thing in the first place and when they're experiments started killing off the local folk, instead of taking responsibility for what they did, they packed up thier shit and blew the whole-damn town up."
"What kind of experiments?" Marcus asked.
"The kind of experiments that bring the dead back to life."
"Why would somebody want to create monsters?"
"Biological warefare." Clive answered.
From somewhere in the shadows they could hear a sequence of clicking as if something were tapping on the cement floor. Click-clack...click-clack...click-clack.
"Okay, now what the fuck is that?"
"Do you really want to know, Sean?"
"Where is it coming from?" Cole was turning his vision of site from one side of the room to the other trying to find whatever was making that noise. Click-clack...click-clack...click-clack. The sound was echoing off the walls making it impossible to locate. He slammed a fresh clip into the 9mm tossing another one to Shelly.
"I'm begining to think this was a bad idea." Sean saw a glimpse of a silhouette moving behind the shelves. "There it is!"
"Where?"
"Over there." He pointed his uzi.
"What did you see?"
"Whatever I saw it wasn't human."
Click-clack...click-clack...-click-clack. The figure stepped out from behind one of the shelves watching his prey. It was a Doberman pinscher.
"Is that the dog that got us into this situation?" Clive asked.
"I don't know."
There was something unusual about this animal but they weren't sure what it was. It took a step foward into the sunlight with its lips curled back in a snarl. The flesh on this dog had been peeled away to expose the wet mustle beneath as the veins and nerve endings appeared to pulse with every hearbeat. Three more Dobermans came around the corner.
"Jesus-Fucking-Christ!"
The dogs pounced. Clive ran as one of them gave chase across the warehouse. He reached an open office door slamming it shut behind him as the skinless Doberman crashed into it shaking the frame. Cole held his gun out pulling the trigger as two of the dogs leapt at him snapping thier slobbering jaws. The 9mm jammed.
He lowered the weapon knowing his fate about to come.
"Cole!" Marcus shouted. He tossed the Remington at him watching him catch it with perfect ease. With no hesitation Cole turned toward the dogs firing the shotgun. The blast knocked one of them to the floor nearly torn in half with its entrails spilling out in a red heap. He pumped another shell into the chamber pulling the trigger again. BOOM. The second creature fell into a pool of its own brain matter. Sean emptied his uzi into the remaining Dobermans riddling thier mangled bodies with cold steel.
"And that's that." He suddenly felt something wet embrace his body as everything went black. Sean was lifted off the ground as a piercing agony ripped into his spine. His chest cavity collapsed under the crushing pressure while the others watched as the Copperhead swallowed him whole. The monstrous snake was seventy-five feet long dropping down from the rafters above.
"Does this never end!" Shelly screamed.
Marcus pulled out a .38 Special from the holster under his jacket as they all began to shoot thier weapons. The snake curled into a striking position as the bullets ripped into the reptilian skin with no avail. Shelly backed away toward one of the forklifts while she finished off the clip in her gun. Dropping the Barretta to the ground she ran toward the vehicle in a wild sprint. The Copperhead shot its head down with an amazing speed biting into Marcus. Cole could hear his muffled screams in the maw of the beast as he went down the snakes throat.
Shelly climbed into the forklift hoping there was enough juice in the battery.
* * * * *
Clive sat behind the desk in the office looking over the paper that he found in the old typewriter. Whoever was the author had never finished because the ink ribbon had dried out.
July 14,
I have been working for Umbrella now for nearly two years. I can't believe that I trusted them and at one time believed in thier work. Now I know the truth, I have seen it. I have seen what's below the city. Last night I went into one of the labs to find animal experimentation. It was horrible. Animals that have mutated into monsters. Genetic weapons. I have heard about thier human experiments, also and tonight I will get the evidence that I need. My contact has given me a gold cardkey that should give me full access. They can't get away with this. I won't let them. If I fail I can't imagine what will become of Raccoon City. I can only pray.
July 15,
I have pictures now. I also have a sample of the virus that Umbrella will sell to the highest bidder as a biological weapon. This new creation is called the T-Virus. I'm meeting someone tonight from Channel 48. Umbrella will be exposed and I will expose them. I just have to make it through the next few hours.
He had written more but the print faded to a dim blur and Clive couldn't make out the rest.
"Poor son-of-a-bitch, I wonder what Umbrella did to him." He saw something move across the desk. It was a shadow that had been there the entire time, a shadow that fell across the desk and onto the floor. Clive slowly turned his head up toward the ceiling. tarantula
A tarantula was casting the shadow with its eight legs reaching out to all four corners of the office. Clive could see its body was covered with coarse hairs and many black eyes that were the size of dinner plates. He saw his reflection in those eyes as the massive arachnid prepared to attack. Reaching for the shotgun that leaned against the desk he knew that it was too late. The spider dropped to the ground capturing its prey. Clive felt the power of the creature as it tore open his rib cage with its ample fangs. He held the shotgun to its underbelly pulling the trigger.
* * * * *
The forklift slammed into the Copperhead tearing into its meat with the steel prongs. They ripped out the other side of its body crashing into the wall. To his amazement Cole saw that Shelly was able to pin the snake against the wall with the forklift. It wrapped its long body around the machine trying to crush the metal. Shelly rushed out as the forklift began to buckle under the pressure crumbling into the tightening body of the Copperhead. An expanding pool of blood seeped out from around the reptile as it appeared to weaken.
"Where's Clive?" She asked Cole.
"I haven't seen him."
The snake's head flopped to the cement with a heavy THUD.
"How many more shells do you have in that thing?"
"Not enough. Take the clip out of my Barretta for the one I gave you." Outside the cadavers reached in through the broken windows trying to climb inside. "I suggest you do it fast."
The front door burst open as the unburied dead staggered in one after the other. A naked woman was the first to enter with an oozing gash on both of her wrists. She would have been sexy if her rotten skin hadn't been covered in festering sores that seem to move with the vermin that fed on them. Her arms reached out for them as her friends gathered behind her.
"Right there."
Shelly loaded the 9mm with the clip looking up to where Cole was pointed. There was a crack in the cement that yawned into a hole spilling out darkness. "I hope you're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting."
"What do you think I'm suggesting?"
"I think you want us to drop into that hole and if that is what you want us do you've got to be insane. Who knows what could be down there."
"It can't be any worse than up here, now come on."
Shelly walked over to Cole looking into the hollow. "We don't even know how deep it is." She sat down with her legs dangling in the opening as Cole took arms lowering her into the unknown. "If we die we all know who to point the finger at."
He let her slip from his fingers listening to her slam against the hard ground. "Are you okay?"
"Just fine, asshole. I think it's some kind of underground sewer system."
"Okay, I'm coming down." Picking up his shotgun he jumped through the crack landing on his feet. "We're gonna have to be fast. I don't think those motherfuckers up there are gonna be afraid to follow us."
The naked suicide victim was already looking down at them.
"So, which way?" Shelly asked. They were at an intersection that lead in four directions. The walls were covered with dripping slime with rusty pipes exposed near the top leaking waste onto the wet ground. There was a distant light in the passageway ahead of them.
"I think I see something up there. It could be a way out."
"And if it's not?"
"Then we're fucked either way so just follow me." They began thier journey toward the light with the stink of sewage all around them. Cole thought he could hear something that seem to be moving toward them. A chirping sound. "Do you hear that?"
"What?"
"It sounds like a bird."
"What the hell would a bird be doing in the sewers?"
"Maybe it'll be the size of a house." Cole laughed.
"Please don't joke about that."
The closer the chirping got the more positive Cole became that it wasn't only a bird but a flock of birds flying down one of the corridors. He prepared the Remington as ten of them came into sight. They were crows.
Cole fired before they could attack taking out three of them with the buckshots. Black feathers expoded everywhere as the remaining seven began to feed. Shelly could feel her skin tear open as several of the crows dug thier sharp beaks into her. She held out the 9mm pulling the trigger as fast as she could. A bullet hit one of the birds ripping into its neck. It dropped to the wet cement still trying to move its wings. Cole shredded two more of the birds as he felt them scratching at his face.
The four crows that were still alive escaped down one of the dark tunnels like cowards. When Cole glanced over at Shelly he could see that she was in tears. He stepped over gently embracing her.
"I'm sorry I did this."
"What do you mean?" She looked up into his eyes.
"I brought you here. It's my fault."
"After my mother was murdered it was hard for me to find a reason to live. I killed my sister hoping to find some kind of peace. That peace never came and so I waited for death knowing that it would come because Yablans would come for me. But when he did he sent you into my life giving me hope and for the first time in a long while I wanted to live. You gave me that, so even if we never make it out of this town I'll always love you."
Cole didn't know what to say so he just held her in his arms without saying a word.
A sudden pain filled Shelly's womb as if someone had stabbed her.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Maybe we should get moving."
"Good idea." Shelly said.
They walked for over an hour watching the light grow at the end of the passageway. Shelly stared down at her feet as they stepped one after the other with her hands nestled in the warm pockets of her sister's overcoat. She felt something against her fingers. It was something small, something hard. She pulled out the key that had been in her pocket the entire time.
"I don't believe it."
"What?" Cole asked.
"The key." Shelly held it up to the light where she could see the numbers 1506 etched into the metal surface. "My sister had it in her jacket."
"Than I suggest we go back to the city and get paid."
"How much did you say could be in there?"
"Most likely we're talking about at least fifty thousand bills."
"I've never even seen that much money."
"Well, I think it's about time you have."
They could see sunlight sneaking in through the opening that lead out into Raccoon City. Several cadavers blocking the exit wandered toward them reaching for thier meal. One of them was a boy, that couldn't have been more than ten years old, wearing a black suit as if he just come from a funereal. Possibly he had been the one in the casket.
"How many more bullets do you have, Shelly?"
"Not many."
"Stay behind me." Clive edged his way closer to the sunlight holding the barrel of his shotgun to the oncoming dead. He pulled the trigger watching the buckshots tear into the boy's face. Two of the deceased pushed him against a rusted gate that closed off a room with a two hundred foot drop. Clive tried to push the zombies away but was forced back against the hard metal as another corpse grabbed ahold of him. Shelly lifted her arm pointing the 9mm at a fat man dressed in drag with his blond wig fallen askew. She fired the gun as the cross-dresser fell to the ground with a seeping hole in his cranium. The clip in the Barretta was empty before she noticed the hinges on the gate begin to give way. Clive was able to place the barrel of the .12 gauge under the chin of one of the cadavers. He pulled the trigger feeling a wet spray against his face.
Shelly ran over to him as the metal gate tore free dropping into the pit with Clive following it down. He splashed into a deep cavern that was filled with a pasty sewage as the two zombies went under water with him. Gasping for air he looked up at Shelly.
"I don't think I'll be able to climb back up."
"What should I do?"
"Get the fuck out of here!"
"I'm not gonna leave you."
"Don't worry, I'll find a way out and meet you outside."
"Where?"
"Get back to Willoughby, I'll meet you there."
"You better be there."
"I said don't worry." He watched her disappear over the edge as he floundered in the muck. Only one of the dead bodies had come back up. He splashed the water with his arms trying to remember how to swim.
"Looks like you're shit-out-of-luck, pal." The creature was jerked under the sewage as if something powerful had gotten ahold of him. There was nothing but silence as the waves on the water began to settle. "Looks like I'm shit-out-of-luck."
Cole saw something surface across the room. Something large.
As it began to swim towards him he could see the green pebbled skin on its back. It was an alligator with a body larger than a fire engine. Cole closed his eyes as he felt the gator's massive jaws snap shut around him.
* * * * *
Shelly had made it out of Raccoon City without further incident. She walked alongside the road weary to her surroundings of shrubs and pinetrees. Her eyes filled with tears knowing that she would never see Cole again. Never feel his touch or know what it could have been like to be loved by him. She had heard him scream before he was pulled under the water. Shelly knew him for only a few hours but her love for him would be eternal.
A sharp pain filled her womb again as if something were tearing at her insides. She screamed as she dropped to her knees on the road. What if she had been infected by whatever it was that infected all those people in Raccoon City? What if her unborn child was infected? Shelly pulled up her shirt to expose her rounded stomach as something pushed against it under the flesh. Blood splashed onto the asphalt as her belly was torn open. She saw the dead fetus eating its way out into the world as she fell into the cold embrace of death.
Her child had become part of the resident evil.
THE END