Novelist Extraordinaire: The Untold Story of Dario Russo

by Zak Cole

Prologue:

Dario Russo was asleep on his couch, his daughter inattentively watching the soap opera Passions. He was a plump man of about forty, with light brown hair, and always had a smile on his face. He turned in his sleep, and his daughter Erza turned to him. Tip - toeing, she picked up a nearby pillow, and threw it at him. He woke up with a start, and they saw his beautiful daughter, her hair beaming in the light.

"How long have I been zoning out for?"

"Hours, I guess. Guy, you're always taking naps. What's up?"

"Tired. I just lost another lumber supplier. This is business isn't going as well as I thought I would. I should've stuck with Kendo."

"Its better that you're on your own. Get some rest. I'll throw together some coffee."

He watched his fifteen year - old daughter walk towards the kitchen in their apartment, looking back at him as she went.

Outside, a homeless man infected with an invisible, odorless virus grabbed another person, a fire fighter. The biohazard had begun, but Dario and her daughter didn't know. They couldn't know...

Chapter 1:

The kitchen was a mess. It was stacked with old pots & pans, and the refrigerator was covered with Stick - it notes and memos. beside those were novel ideas, most of them years old. He had given that up before she was born.

If asked, Erza's father would tell everyone that we was a novelist, but in truth he was a salesman, a rather sleazy one, as she had figured out not to long her. This bothered her.

Why would Dad do this?

She looked at the pitchers on the fridge. Four were of her, the others of friends and two of his ex - wife, Samantha, who he was still on good terms with. Then one, partly covered with notes of all sorts, of his mother and her grandmother, the infamous Bess Russo. She was a very large woman with greasy black curls, a purple polka - dot dress, and a mean expression. The picture had been taken nineteen years ago, and she didn't look any better now.

Bitch, Erza thought. And she knew that her father felt the same way. She was the one who had basically stopped his writing career in it's tracks, and gotten him an appointment at the local gun shop, run by his friend Robert Kendo. He had worked there for five years, until he had been able to start his own business, a small warehouse, a lumber business. She knew that he didn't like the work, but it paid well, and so he had stayed.

She flicked on the coffee machine, pouring in a half - cup of the grounded bean, then one cup of water. As it began to drip into the pot, she walked back into the living room, where his father was on the phone. He hung it quickly as she came in.

"You was that?" she asked sternly, knowing already was the lie would be:

"Rob. He wants to meet up."

"At the gun shop?"

"Well, no... the shop on Main St."

"You mean the strip bar ?" Her eyes narrowed. Don't do this, dad, her eyes said to him. He flashed her a look of guilt, then pretended he hadn't.

"What about the coffee?" she asked.

"I'll picked some up on my way there." He simply got up, grabbed his coat, and walked out the door. She watched him go, then waited twenty seconds. She then got up, and followed.

Dario walked down the steps, and opened the door, a cold chill passing through his body.

Raccoon City. Cold as ever. He looked both ways before crossing, and headed up the street.

He looked around as he walked, paranoid as always. He did this every time he bought it. SOAP, it was called on the streets. He hated drugs of any sort... but, they paid the bills. His lumber company was going straight to hell, and he had to do something to support himself. He watched all forms of life pass him; everything from businessman like himself to bums to gangsters.

Is this the type of life I want to expose Erza to? What have I become? what does she think of me? The thoughts ran rapid in his head, and he finally shook it in guilt. He came up to the corner of the street, but stopped in his tracks. He looked at the building next to him, a small gas station. He stepped in, and ordered the coffee. It came quickly, there was only one other customer there.

Erza watched his father from the window. He looked cal, but she could see through this expression. He sipped at his cup slowly, and Erza leaned against the window, determined to catch him in the act this time; to stop him. He backed away a little, and continued to watch.

The truck driver's name was John Cole, a man of forty - seven with blackish hair and greasy skin. He had been driving trucks for fifteen years, and considered himself quite good at it. he usually drove from Maine, stopped in this area, then drove the cargo to Maryland. He liked this town; near the bay, nice people. He saw the man sitting close to him, a calm man by the look of it. After a few minutes, the man got up, paid the waitress, and walked out the door. Soon after, an invisible virus came up through the floor vents...

Erza Russo watched her father walk through the double doors, and head up the street. He looked more nervous now, the calm walk replaced by a jerky step. He turned his head constantly, watching people move around him. Erza tried to back, to keep out of eyesight. he walked until he reached the bar, and opened the door.

God, I hope I don't look suspicious, Erza said as she opened the door, her father already being inside.

The dealer was not there, but a man approached him, saying that he was a representative.

"How much?" Dario asked.

"Forty thous, easy. But, you cool. 20?"

"Fine." He handed the man a neat envelope, and he walked off. Dario sat down, and watched the topless girls around the pole.

Erza ran up to him , all her anger boiling over. He shoved him onto the floor, and he turned slowly.

'Look here, you drunken asshole..." He turned completely, and saw his daughter standing right in front of him, tears streaming from her eyes, shaking her head.

"Erza... what are you doing here?" He looked around at the other tables, hoping no one was paying attention.

"Dad, I... why are you doing this to me? Why do you buy drugs?" She looked away again, then turned.

"I'm going home." She walked away, and Russo got up to follow her. She weaved threw the seats, until she reached the door.

"You need to listen to me." Russo said, just to stall.

"No, I don't. I know what you do, and I hate..." Inside the bar, a scream ran out. Cutting their conversation short, Dario walked back in.

The screaming person was a blonde female, choking in the corner of the room. Waiters and others were running up to her, but she flung back and forth, avoiding them. When she finally looked up, her flesh was a sickening purple. people in the crowd started to move back, but it was too. She grabbed one man, and bit deep into his muscles. People ran, and fast, Dario and Erza the leaders of the group.

And one by one, they started to transform, too. Turning purple, then biting one another. The two were too far away to get injured, but they still ran. They ran until they could run no more, and then looked back.

"What's going on?" Erza Russo asked, but Dario didn't answer. He just stared, watching the carnage...