The Simpsons Fan Fic

Springfield Ghost-Town

Chapter One

Authors Notes

This is Springfield in the future… Bart is now about twenty-four years old, and although Lisa isn't in this chapter she is obviously twenty-two, and will feature in the story, so don't worry to all those who like stories with Lisa in them, she will be here eventually. I promise. While this is not my first fanfic (I've already removed that one) it is my second, and since my first was removed, I would like this one to be considered my first. It's like a cross-over of The Simpsons (obviously) and Resident Evil. Please R&R. P.S Sorry if I spelled anything wrong, but I'm English, and am not used to spelling some words the American way. Thank you PLEASE R&R… And now on to the story. . .

Bart rolled up to a very aged sign reading "welcome To Springfield". He pulled into the side of the road and got out of his car. He looked around the very run-down surroundings, noting that everything looked so different to when he had left. He looked at his watch, 11:37 pm. "Right on time" he told himself. From the pocket of his battered leather jacket he pulled a 9millimeter berretta, and loaded a full clip into it. It began to rain slightly, giving an even more war-torn feeling to his once peaceful home-town. He wiped his long-ish, light brown hair out of his eyes, and consulted his watch again. 11:40 pm. "Okay, time to go". He jumped into his car, thought to himself for a moment, and decided it would be quieter (and therefore safer) to walk. He killed the engine, and got back out of the car. Pocketing the keys, he began to head into the lonely looking town, Berretta held in front of him. He looked in disgust at what had happened to his town. He past houses and shops all more or less destroyed, and looking like at least one rocket had hit each building he seen. There where holes seven foot tall in the walls, allowing him to see into the buildings, doors just lying on the floor absorbing rain water, broken glass lying all over the place where windows had been broken, no doubt opening the shops and houses to looters and thieves. The whole of the U.S.A had gone insane when it was announced that a new, and incredibly deadly, disease was hitting the country. Every two in five people (it was estimated) became infected. After they where infected the only cure was apparently death, as the victim would become violent and even cannibalistic, however they did appear to loose a lot of mental power, becoming slow and dim witted. That was a very fortunate thing, making it easier to kill the victims of the disease. After a further 15 minutes of walking he at last found where he needed to be, the Springfield Police Station. Looking through the window, he saw a fire and three darkened outlines standing around it. He headed to the door of one of the only buildings in all of Springfield that remained undamaged, and opened it.

Upon entering, a double-barrelled shotgun was immediately thrust into his face. For a moment he just stared straight down the barrels into the eyes of his would-be assailant. Pushing the weapon out of his face, he said in an unnervingly calm voice "still as jumpy as ever, eh Milhouse?" "You can't be to careful, Bart" came the reply from his best-friend. Bart lit a cigarette, looked out of the window for a few moments, and turned to the second of the three people there. "So why did you drag us here Martin, I told you years ago I never wanted to return." Martin Prince, now not the un-popular nerd he once was, said in a deep, calm voice "you're not the first to ask Bart, in fact until now I've been the only one who knows why… You may have noticed at the top of your contract form it stated you where all specially assigned to this mission" Bart, Milhouse and Nelson all nodded in agreement "that's because I chose you, not The Agency. Recently there have been reports of non-infected people walking the streets of Springfield, but The Agency considered it too dangerous to find and rescue them, due to the high rate of infects around here" (infects are what the infected are called for short). He paused for a second, probably remembering the day six years ago, when he had killed his own family with a crow-bar after he found their infected bodies on the floor of his living room. He knew they would still feel the pain, but they weren't his family any more and it was him or them, still though it was the hardest thing he had ever done, especially at age 19.

He continued with his little speech "Well I don't care! Those people out there are our people! There are Springfielders at risk and I for one am going after them! Who's with me?" Bart, Milhouse and Nelson just stood there, unable to say anything. Bart looked at the other three, and nodded at Martin. "Okay, I'm in…but I haven't been here since I was thirteen, that's eleven years ago, so you can imagine I don't really know my way around, this place is gonna be like a whole new town now."

"Ya got me" said Nelson.

"Well I'm already here, so why not" was Milhouses answer.

"Right" said Martin. "Now we need a plan. Fortunately, this Police Station is still standing, with no major structural damage, it's got plenty of weapons and food supplies and it is pretty big, so I propose this to be the base point." "Have you checked the holding cells for infected criminals?" asked Nelson. "Yeah, I checked when I got here, just a few dead bodies, but I shot them all up a bit just to make sure." Nelson looked over to the stairs leading to the cells "okay then, so we're safe there. No nasty little surprises then?" "Shouldn't be" said Martin. "Good" said Bart. "Now, where are the weapons rooms?" Martin pointed to a set of very cracked concrete stairs "up those stairs and to the right, there's some body armour and extra ammunition there as well." "Anyway" interjected Milhouse "the rest of your plan please…"

Martin looked at a map of the town that was taped to the wall. He walked over to it, pulled it down and placed it on the nearest table to them. As they all started to gather round it, Martin began to mark little circles on it with a red marker pen he had taken from his pocket. "What're you doing that for?" asked Milhouse. "According to reports that I er, borrowed, from The Agency, these are the areas which have shown most un-infected activity, though it is still believed to be quite dangerous in most of these areas, so we travel in pairs got it?" "Alright" the other three said in unison.

"Good" replied Martin. "As well as being able to cover more ground that way, we have less chance of being infected or eaten." Bart looked at him and said in a worried and puzzled voice "what do you mean less chance, there should be no chance." Martin looked at Bart, and rather nervously said "ah… erm… yes, about that. Listen I didn't have time to get all the necessary equipment for this, so all we have is standard Police-issue body armour" Milhouse looked pissed off. "Ah well shit then." He said. "Well lets go and suit up" said Martin, heading towards the stairs leading up to the weapons room.

Bart was the last one into the weapons room, and after looking around he saw there was still a fair choice to pick from, which he was grateful for. From the yellow-stained wall, he picked up a belt with a holster to put his Berretta in, and a few slots for spare clips as well. Next he headed over to the armour and picked the heavier armour. Its added weight didn't really affect him too much because he was quite athletic, so he could rather easily manoeuvre in it. He put it on and walked over to the weapons. It wasn't too bad, and he considered the added weight a small price to pay for the extra protection. From the range of weapons on offer, he picked out a snipers rifle only it had the scope removed. He picked up a strap, attached it to the weapon, and slung it over his shoulder. After waiting for Nelson to gear up, the four men headed back down into the front area, walked to the front door, opened it and walked out into the rain and inevitable, danger…