Operation Nemesis

By: Jason Bosch

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil, Sony, Capcom or any of those other wonderful billion dollar companies and franchises which I have drawn ideas from.

AN: Here we go. A Resident Evil fanfic. This should be a three-part story that will serve as a prologue to another one. That is only if you people like this one.

Chapter 1

It's raining again; tears from heaven. Why would heaven shed tears? I was told it's because of the sadness in the world. Like I believe that. Up in heaven there's no sadness. In heaven there's no pain and no suffering. Those in heaven look down on the world and have the gall to cry. They can turn away, like watching a cheap movie on TV. I have to live here. I have to experience the pain everyday. There's no turning away for me; the pain is my life. I can create my own rain with my own tears. I know I've shed more than enough in my time.

"Rage! It's time to eat! Come in!"

Hope's calling me now. Do they really think that supper will entice me to that stuffy orphanage? I'd rather be hungry and stay out here. I'll go back when the sun's set. I can still see it peeking through the gaps between the black clouds. I wonder if the sun can see me. What would it think as it traverses the skies every day? Maybe it knows where my parents are. Then again, maybe they're dead. That's what happened to everyone else; they all died. Why? Because one man wanted to control the world. Just one man. But hundreds died and the whole world was changed forever. It'll never be the same as it was and it will take years for the scars to fade.

"If you don't get inside and out of the rain right now, Rage, Nana says she's going to come out and drag you in by your ears!"

That's right. Don't let me savour my time alone. Oh well, It's not like my life can get any worse.

"I'm coming," I sigh, hoping she can hear me over the rain.

I drop from the tree branch I'd been nestled in and land easily. The cold mud squelches up between my toes in a strangely soothing manner. That'll get me in trouble when I go inside. Nana insists that everything remains neat and tidy. I can't imagine why. The orphanage is a ruin. It used to be a museum, I think, but it was one of the innumerable buildings that were destroyed during the war and we live in the remains now.

"You're getting mud all over the floor," scolds Nana, hands on hips and her hair tied up in a bun.

"Sorry," I mutter, otherwise ignoring her and making my way to the table.

Nana was a nice lady really. She looked after us all by herself. There are thirty of us, all orphans between the ages of about five and going up to seventeen. I'm a sixteen-year-old boy with aloof green eyes and loose brown hair that I can't do anything with. I've been here for about half a year. That's how long it's been since the Great War. I don't see what people found so great about it though. My dad left for the war and I don't know why. He wasn't a soldier. He worked in a laboratory. He was one of the smartest men there. It was then just mom and me until she got a massage from dad that he needed her help. She apologised to me but said she had to go and help my dad. She couldn't fight either, she was a vet. She was one of the most helpful people you would ever have met; I think that's why she left. I stayed with my aunt for over a year as the war drew on and on. When the soldiers came my aunt was killed; so many people are dead now. After that I was alone for a long time before I found Nana. Now I live here though I still hope my parents survived somehow. One day I will find them again. That's a promise I've made to myself.

"Rage, the radio's broken again. Can you please fix it?" asks Nana.

"I'll try," I reply.

I don't mind, it'll keep me distracted for a while. I don't know what to do anymore. I'd hoped to become a computer programmer before the war and I'd also been pretty interested in all electrical and mechanical contraptions. But almost everything's been destroyed, all over the world. I don't think anyone knows what's going on now so I don't know what to do with my life. In any case I get asked to fix everything around the orphanage; it's my 'job'. All of us have a special task to do. Nana looks after everyone. I fix stuff. Hope nags; actually she's learning to cook. She's young but that's the majority of the people here, young and with no real future. I pick up the radio and a screwdriver and open it up. I know what the problem is before I've even taken the thing apart. There's a loose wire. If I had solder I could fix it permanently but there's nothing like that for miles. All I can do is hook it to where it's supposed to be and hope it doesn't detach itself too soon.

"Here. It's all done…for the moment," I say and I hand it to Nana.

"Thank you," she says.

She turns the radio on and we listen to what it has to say.

"…CRZZZ…and I think that's all the news we have for today."

Darn. We missed it. One radio mast in our area is still up and a group of people broadcast at a set time every day.

"Wait I think Brink has something to report. He looks very distressed. Brink, what seems to be the problem?" asks the voice on the radio.

"The war's started again!" came Brink's breathless answer.

All of us were silent. The war had started again? What was there left to fight with…or over. There was only a fraction of the world's population left. That was thanks to modern technology. One bomb for one city. In one flash of fire everyone dies, no chance to survive.

"I've just been informed that in the larger cities groups that supported Phoenix have begun to fight again."

Phoenix was a militaristic faction that believed the world needed to be changed radically in order for us to survive. Their solution to the world's problems was genocide. They reasoned that if you killed all the poor, sick and stupid people, leaving only the best selection of people, the world would be a better place. It makes some sense and spread throughout the world. Some governments began to follow that way of thinking as well. That infuriated the non-Phoenix countries and began the war. Strangely enough even large amounts of poor and unintelligent people supported Phoenix; it just goes to show people always see themselves as superior. While those that didn't support Phoenix saw the war as a horrible but necessary evil the Phoenix supporters saw the war as the beginning and it certainly was. Millions died in the war, accelerating Phoenixes plan. If Phoenix had been left alone it might not have spread but people seem to have a need to interfere. If something isn't the way they want it, even if it's in another country they rush in, guns blazing, and then blame the other side for the ensuing war and death.

"The conflicts have been spreading," continued the radio presenter, Brink, "and the military is mobilising. They'll be travelling around to recruit more soldiers and due to the lack of suitable candidates the age for conscription has been lowered to thirteen."

"Stupidity," muttered Nana, "Turning the radio off angrily, "Didn't they learn? More fighting is only going to lead to more death."

Everyone is talking about the war. It's already isolated the survivors into small, scattered pockets and now it threatens everyone once again. Nana is against the war, she's a pacifist. She believes all problems can be solved by discussion and agreeing on a solution that appeals to both sides. I don't like war; it seems to me to be a bunch of people killing each other and accomplishing nothing. After the last war nothing changed; a lot of people lost their lives but the views of Phoenix live on. Even though I don't like the thought of war there's a strange idea forming inside me. A stupid idea that will probably get me killed and accomplish nothing, but still it's there.

The soldiers have arrived today and everyone's come from all around to see who'll go and fight. Everywhere I look people's eyes are red from crying, those are the ones whose loved ones have decided to fight, or blank, the ones whose families are completely gone, like mine. They're also hoping the soldiers will have news. With the communication lines down the only way to get news is the old-fashioned and slow way, physically transporting mail or word of mouth. The soldiers are saying that they can't release any information to civilians. They're probably afraid there are some secret Phoenix sympathisers in our community. I can understand how they feel. Everyone's afraid and paranoid.

"Is that so?" asks a demanding voice.

It's Nana! She's confronting the soldiers now. I hope she knows what he's doing.

"You come here, after our homes and families have been torn apart by your war, asking any young men to join you in your fight but you refuse to tell us what's going on?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but all our information is classified and unavailable to non-military personnel," Answers the soldier-in-charge.

"Really? So you don't think we should know what's going on? You know you make me sick. All you do is kill and breed hatred because someone disagrees with you. Did you ever talk about your differences? I doubt it. Right away you turn to force and where has it brought you? Nowhere!"

"Will you please move aside, ma'am, we have a job to do here."

"Take our men away to be killed? Why take them away to die? If you killed them here we would at least be able to bury them!"

Nana turned her back on the soldiers and walked away. Everyone is incredibly uncomfortable after that confrontation.

"Rage, come. Let's go," she calls.

I take a breath. It's time I told her what my plans are. I know she won't like it but it's what I have to do.

"I'm…I'm going to join the military," I say.

Nana stops, stunned, and just gives me a disbelieving look. I can see in her eyes that she is sad. I know this has hurt her but this is the only way I can find my parents…if they're alive anyway.

"It's your choice," she says finally, "You know I don't agree with it but I won't stop you."

She walks over to me now and gives me a tight hug. Her voice is quivering slightly when she speaks again, "Good luck. Don't get yourself killed."

After that she walks away. I think she was crying. I never knew she felt like that about me. I swallowed hard, fighting back my tears. I didn't know felt like that about her either. By the time I manage to compose myself se's gone. It's too late to say goodbye, too late to say how grateful I am for what she's done for me. I'm alone again and the only way I can go is forward.

"I want to sign up," I tell the registration officer.

"Do you have ID?" he asks.

I shake my head, "I'm sixteen."

"Do you have any identification?"

I shake my head again. There's no way for them to know who I really am if I lie but I'm sure that this happens a lot now. When you're fleeing for your life you don't bother to collect a few identification papers.

"What's your name, son?"

"Rage," I answer, "Rage Winter."

He writes it down on the page.

"And you said you are sixteen?"

"Yes."

He sighs but continues his little interview. He asks about my medical history, fitness level, allergies and all that sort of stuff. When I don't know he doesn't seem surprised. I doubt that many people know what blood-group they are in.

"Here," he says, handing home a carbon-copy of the sheet he's just filled in, "Take that to the trailer and they'll give you a uniform, ID and weapon.

"Thank you," I say politely, take the paper and continue on my way to become a killer.

At the trailer there is an old computer where another officer types everything up. He then uses an old, mechanical press to make me a pair of dog tags. They are attached to a silvery chain and I hang it around my neck. It's icy cold but it'll soon grow warm from touching my body. He then measures me and gets me a uniform that will fit. It's made out of a tough material that isn't very comfortable but I don't think it'll take too much to keep it in good condition. It's shades of blue and grey. Next he hands me and automatic rifle. It's heavier than I expected. He gives me a quick overview on how it works and hands me a couple of clips, already loaded with bullets. I take them and go sit and wait for us to leave. I'm now a soldier. I'm in a profession I don't like so I can find my parents who might not even be alive.

I'm now sitting in the back of a truck. There are a few other new soldiers with me. We can't see anything outside because we're surrounded by sheeting. The back end is open but all you can see is the dust in the road that has been kicked up by the truck's tires. The seat is hard and my bum's going numb from the rough ride. I hope it won't take too long to get to base. Apparently there's already a mission for us when we get there. Due to the shortage of troops they are unable to give us any training; we're just going to be kicked out into battle.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

What the hell!? I drop to the floor along with the other recruits. Large holes have been torn in the tarpaulin that was shielding us. I glance around. One of the recruits is lying face down on the floor. There are splinters of bone on the floor around him and blood is running over the floor from the gaping hole in is head. I try to shake it off and load my rifle. Another recruit throws up noisily, unable to handle the gristly scene.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

BANG! BANG!

More gunshots. The truck has stopped now. The other recruits have loaded their guns. Phoenix must have attacked us before we reached safety. One of the braver recruits takes the initiative and jumps out of the truck, raising his gun. The rest of us follow.

Outside we realise we've entered the remains of what was once a large city. There's a phoenix soldier pulling the corpse of our driver from the truck. I raise my gun reflexively and squeeze off a few shots. The gun shakes wildly as it spews deadly projectiles in the direction I've pointed it. The bullets fly all over but the first miraculously hits its target. The other man falls back and a squirt of blood squirting out of his chest. I can barely believe I just killed him but I don't have time to think about it before more enemies arrive. I dive for cover as the ear-splitting sound of automatic fire rends the air. Dirt from the street is kicked up as bullets miss their targets and trace lines of death through the air. I see another enemy and pull the trigger while pointing the gun in his direction. The wall he was crouching against explodes in a shower of dust and grit. He falls back in surprise and swings his gun to aim at me. One of my team-mates fires and I watch the enemy's chest torn open by a close grouping of bullets.

The battle rages on. Miraculously I survive my first skirmish without taking a hit. I can't say the same for everyone, unfortunately. The enemy fled when too many of their side had been killed and more than half of us recruits die. Our commanding officers didn't make it either. It's sad but we can't waste time to bury the dead. We cover some with the tattered remains of the canvas from the truck, the rest we leave out in the open. Someone knows how to drive and he climbs into the driver's seat despite the fact that it's covered in blood. The rest of us climb back into the truck and hope that we'll be able to find the base by ourselves.

The rest of the journey went off without incident and we manage to get where we are supposed to be. After the fire-fight I'm starting to wonder whether made the right decision to come on this foolhardy expedition. I left the safe orphanage on a hunch and already I was almost killed. I hate to admit it but things don't seem to bode well for the future.