Chapter One: Where are we?

The helicopter roared loudly as it took off. I looked around at my fellow prisoners, and finally realized all that was happening. I had been part of the resistance, along with most of the people here. They were wearing their regular, dirty street clothes, with bloodstains. I glanced up again, and I watched the helicopter zoom off into my only salvation.

"Those bastards!" shouted a man in a long, black trench coat. Everyone nodded with tears. Some of the women burst out crying. If I could speak, I'd try to ease their sorrow. Yet, we are going to die. I know none of us will survive the night. I could only wonder, "How long will I make it?"

Death no longer scared me like it once had. "We have to get out of here… now! I am not going to just stand here and let what ever it is on this island to just kill me." I opened my mouth, and tried for a sound, but I knew I was mute, and I knew I couldn't make a peep.

I abruptly shut my mouth, seeing the man in the trench coat speak aloud again, "I think we should go… the sun is going down." A weeping women burst into an even louder fit of hysterics. Her eyes, nose, and mouth leaked with fluids, and she screamed. I looked at her with compassionate eyes. She looked up at me, and choked back on her tears. I tried to smile, but I don't think it was very successful.

Her red face matched her shoulder length red hair and freckles. She bellowed quietly, "I don't want to leave this spot. I want to go home." She looked about seventeen, which was my age as well. The black trench coat man shouted at her, "We must leave! If we don't, we surely will die before nightfall. You know what those Umbrella freaks are capable of creating. The can wipe us all out, unless we find a way out. We are going to live!" He shouted with confidence. Even I was moved, but only for a brief second.

I looked around and my surroundings finally came into view. We were on top of a building, in what looked like a demolished city. A man ran to the edge of a building and threw up. I understood what he was going through, but this is nothing compared to what I've endured.

I sat down and clutched my knees as I started rocking back and forth. I remembered my high school being raided, being locked in a room, and being interrogated for weeks. They didn't even let me leave the small room to take a piss. They just asked me questions constantly, not knowing I couldn't speak. Now, standing on top of a building waiting to die is now what all of it came down to.

"I don't want to be like one of them… I don't want to be here when anyone else becomes one, either," one man hollered and cried out. He took some steps toward the edge and leaned back on his heels. The sound of his flapping clothes filled our ears with suspense. One man roared a "no!" and ran over towards the edge to look. I loud smash rumbled my body slightly, and I couldn't help but agree with the now dead man.

Should I jump? I won't go through the horror or the pain of being attacked by the walking corpses. People ran to the edge, and for a second, I thought they were going to jump, too. The people seemed to mourn for a second, then walk back over. We knew what must be done… we all knew we had to leave this fucking rooftop and get off this island.

At that very moment another helicopter whizzed by, and hovered above us. "This can't be possible," I thought to myself. An enormous wooden box dropped down from the helicopter, and dropped on the center of the roof. I looked at it, then back up at the second helicopter that night to abandon us into the horizon. "No! Please help us!" the crying redhead shouted, even though she knew nothing would happen.

The man in the trench coat said for all of us to hear, "Screw it. I'm going to open this crate. Hey big guy," he signaled to me, "Give me a hand, will you?" I stood up and clutched on edge of the box. I tugged as hard as I could on one side, and with one swift yank; the side of the box was off. People looked at my shocked expression, and then looked into the box. The light from the setting sun gave it an eerie glow.

The walls of guns and ammo that filled the box made my eyes twinkle. The rifles, Berettas, shotguns, snipers, and magnums made me draw closer. I saw my gun! The magnum with the words Take 'em down carved into the handle. I reached for it and checked to see how many bullets I had that were already loaded. I saw there wasn't one, and I reached in for a clip.

In seconds, everyone around grabbed their guns, that had been confiscated by Umbrella. It made me wonder if everyone here was part of the Resistance. They all looked strong, and to answer my thoughts, the red headed woman said, "Are you all part of the Resistance, too?" I nodded, and noticed everyone around me had nodded as well. A team of Resistance prisoners were dropped onto an island by Umbrella to die, and I was with them….

Something caught the man with the trench coat's eye. He bent down and picked up a half crumpled piece of paper inside the box. He flattened it out as best as he could, and we were silent. Our guns and clips hung heavily from our pockets. The man began to read out loud:

"Dear Resistance fools, you are on a test island in the Caribbean. It is covered with tiny cameras that record your every move. There is a chance that you survive, but you must go through our newest experiments. Your guns we took earlier should be ready for any sudden bumps in the night. If you survive, we shall grant you freedom, but that won't happen. I shall enclose this letter with a map of the island and the escape pad. I'll see you soon, or I won't… Signed, Michael Birkin."

Some people shook their heads in disbelief; I shut my eyes and pressed them down tightly. "Okay. That's it," the man in the trench coat said. He chuckled insanely for a second. The crumpled the note and tossed it over the side of the building shouting, "Those sick fucks." Someone vomited, but I hadn't seen them. I heard the gag sound, then the rushing sound of bile.

The man in the trench coat spoke again, "My name is Richard Perkin." Everyone looked at him, I even found myself starring. He said something else, but it was incoherent and I couldn't hear it. A man in a red vest said, "I'm Andy Carn." Everyone seemed to mumble his or her names. I caught a few, but not all. Richard smirked a bit and looked at me. "What about you? You got a name, right." I nodded, and opened my mouth, then closed it. My expressions drained from my face. How do I tell them I can't talk?

I never really associated with anyone in my life. I just found myself raging a one-man war against Umbrella, and now it has come down to this. The woman with the red hair (I had caught her name, it was Sarah Mick.) walked to me, and said out loud, "I don't think he can talk." I nodded violently, trying to tell her she was right. She continued by saying, "At least we know he's not deaf." She stepped away and checked her ammo again. Richard's trench coat waved in a gust of wind. He muttered, "Now… let's get off this damn island!" He grabbed the map, and set off towards the other end of the rooftop. He found a door, and turned the knob. It opened itself to a staircase.

"Well, come on!" he shouted as the doors hinges creaked. We jogged over, making sure our guns were ready. "Your guns we took earlier should be ready for any sudden bumps in the night." Those words repeated in my mind. It wouldn't be the first time I went into sheer death, but I fear it might be the last.