Chapter 1

Chris breathed in air that was crisp and cool. Dark, ominous clouds hung overhead, preventing the morning sun from delivering light to the ground. Chris could see the mist of his breath as he slowly exhaled. It was all he could do to keep his heart from leaping out of his chest. He had gone back…he had gone back to where it all began. Raccoon city.

He stood on the edge of the city now, looking at the ruins from afar. A large chain-linked, 50-foot fence was erected around the outskirts, fitted with barbed wire to keep any curious passer-by out. Warning signs were placed every 20 yards or so, each warning any on-looker about the radiation. A sign just off the highway was half-missing, charred edges creating a darkened boarder. It said, "…ow Entering …coon City." Any other time, the sight would have been comical. Eighteen years had gone by and only a few remnants of the city remained.

He had left his dark green pick-up truck parked off the side of the exit ramp while he walked up to the fence. Grasping the fence with his bare hand, he felt the cool metal chill him to the bone. The city that he remembered was long gone. Instead, only an apocalyptic vision lay before him, a window into the future of mankind. No evidence that life – or the undead – ever resided in the barren wasteland. Chris had to shake himself out of a haze of relentless thoughts and memories of his long-lost home. He took a step back, unsure of how far the radiation extended from the bomb site.

Chris had decided to leave most of his gear behind. After all, this visit was on his own time. He wore a simple black t-shirt, dark blue jeans, and his combat boots. He had also brought his favorite black jacket that Jill had given him for his birthday. It was wearing thin, but it was sufficient to keep the cool air at bay. He always took his survival knife with him wherever he went. Chris touched the handle, protruding from the sheath on his belt.

Still there.

He relaxed a little bit, but was still weary of his surroundings.

He had left his trusty handgun back in the hotel room – a decision he was now starting to regret. The files had assured him that all experimental creatures were obliterated in the explosion. But what about the outskirts? Would they still be here so long after the incident? Chris rubbed his chin, feeling the stubble as thoughts of paranoia continued to race through his mind.

Jill had warned him not to come.

"What exactly are you looking for?" She asked after she caught him looking at the files of the Raccoon City Incident. He had brought the files to his office at BSAA headquarters after pulling them from Records. She came in to see if he wanted to take a lunch break with her.

He explained that he was planning to go to Raccoon City. "I just want to make sure there wasn't anything we missed," he lied, "Neo-Umbrella is probably looking at anything to get back into the game. I want to beat them to the punch." He offered a small smile, but Jill saw right passed it. She was always able to read him better than anyone. He hated lying to her, but he didn't know how to explain the real reasons behind his journey.

"Do you want me to come with you?" she asked.

"No, you've got your work here. I'm taking my vacation early this year."

"That's one hell of a vacation," she said, arms crossed.

"Well, you know me," Chris said, trying to make his smile more convincing, "I'm not happy if I'm not working."

Jill became solemn. "Just promise me you'll come back in one piece, partner."

He mimicked her mood. "I promise."

Chris was never fond of showing affection, but he offered her a hug, and she accepted it. After that, they went out to lunch as usual, talking about trivial things. She accepted his secrecy, for which he was grateful.

As he looked upon the desolated city, he found himself wishing he had brought Jill with him. Chris found it difficult to be apart from her for too long. If she had been with him in Edonia or China, things may have turned out differently.

She would have died instead of Piers.

The thought came like a sharp knife to the stomach. Piers.

Too soon.

It had been years since Piers rescued him from the HAOS monster. Chris held onto hope that Piers was still alive, but after weeks of searching for the body, the BSAA came up empty. Chris tried balancing his emotions between hope and despair for Piers, finding it easier to just avoid the thoughts altogether. When his comrades offered their condolences again and again, he found himself wanting to punch half of them in their insincere faces. Fortunately, people moved on with their lives after a few weeks of offering fake sympathy to Chris.

He pushed the thoughts of his lost partner from his mind. Looking around, he took in his surroundings once more. The tall fence stretched on for miles in both directions. Knowing full well that he could not enter the city for fear of radiation poisoning, Chris decided that he would travel to the forest of the Mansion where it all started. No doubt, that portion was partitioned off as well, but he had to see it. He just had to try…

He went back to his truck and started the engine. The radio was set to full volume and it shook the entire vehicle as an old rock song played. Chris turned it off. He usually liked to listen to loud music as of late. When the music was loud, his thoughts were silent. But now…now he had to think.

Chris decided to head east first, trying to think back to the best route to the forest. He knew he had to go off road eventually, but for now, the road would take him to the tree line. A helicopter would have been faster, but Chris wanted to remain inconspicuous. He would have to sign a 'copter out of the BSAA, giving a reason for the use. Only Jill knew his true location and he wanted to keep it that way.

The outskirts were just as empty as the apocalyptic scene to his left. When the order was made to neutralize the city, the surrounding towns were given a few hours to evacuate. No one came back. Whether it was because the once great Raccoon City was now in ruins, or people were still fearful of the "cannibals" living in the forest, Chris didn't know. Yet, he was grateful that he had his privacy on this journey.

Looking to his left, Chris could see the decrepit skyline of the city. Buildings that were once skyscrapers were reduced to rubble, and houses were reduced to ashes. Chris was able to see his old apartment building – or, what was left of it.

He had enjoyed the city when he lived there. As a new cop, he was moving up in the world rather quickly. Chief Irons promoted him right away, placing him in the STARS unit, despite Chris' previous infractions with the air force. Irons saw potential in him. The Chief turned out to be a deluded psychopath, easily bribed by Umbrella, but Chris still took the promotion as a compliment. By helping Chris, Irons may have known that he was choosing a potential enemy. Irons was a man who wanted formidable enemies, not weaklings who could easily be destroyed.

Or maybe he was just an ignorant coward. Chris shook his head at the thought.

After a few miles, Chris made it to the edge of the forest. The combination of the radiation and winter air had deprived the trees of their greenery. In a previous life, the forest would have been a paradise, filled with life. Now, it is merely a ghost of something long forgotten. Only brown rot remained. The forest ran for miles behind the city, and the fence continued straight through, dividing the trees. A path was formed a few yards to the right of the fence, just large enough for Chris to fit his truck. The mansion was still several miles in the forest, so he decided to drive down the path.

Branches scraped the outside of the truck as he drove, almost as if to say, "keep out" or "turn back while you still have a chance." Chris couldn't help but feel like he was making a poor choice by coming…

THUD.

Chris slammed on the breaks after the truck jolted. He got out of the truck, leaving the engine on and door open. A low-pitched alarm came from the vehicle, warning him that he left his keys in the ignition. Chris ignored it, stepping out of the cab and looking back down the path.

A few feet back he saw an animal lying on the ground. It was covered in brown, matted fur. As Chris approached it, he saw that the skin was decayed in various places. White bone protruded from holes in the in the skin. When he was right by the animal's body he saw that he had hit a dog. He knelt down to take a closer look. Tire treads were imprinted on the rear of the animal where he ran it over.

"Sorry, Fido," Chris said, relieved to see that he wouldn't have to put it out of its misery. It looked like it had been dead for quite awhile.

Just as the words came out from his mouth, a low growl came from the body. Before Chris could move the dog got up and jumped on top of him, knocking him onto his back and pinning him to the ground. He held the animal's neck with both hands as it snapped its sharp teeth at his face. He could only pray that the animal wouldn't tear his guts out. Drool fell on Chris' face, making it difficult for him to see.

He tried to kick at the dog, but the full weight of the canine held him down. Chris cautiously tried to remove one of his hands from the dog's neck in an attempt to grab his knife. As soon as he released some of the pressure, the dog gained some ground. Chris felt the heat of the beast's breath on his face and pushed back with all his might. His only hope was to outlast the dog's endurance.

This is how I die, he thought, how ironic.

Chris closed his eyes so that he could focus on keeping the dog from ripping into his face. He could feel the dog's movements and he struggled underneath the body. The bones that protruded from the animal felt like sharp knives in his torso. A few moments later, he felt the pressure release and the dog whimpered somewhere on his right. The beast had flown off of him somehow. Chris opened his eyes and saw the tree line above him, but no dog. He sat up and looked around.

The dog's body lay by the side of the dirt path, a knife in its skull. Chris started to approach when the dog's body began to move once more. Pulling out his knife before the dog could jump on him again, Chris got into a defensive stance. But the dog didn't attack. A man was beneath the body and was shifting it to the side.

The man sat up, facing the away from Chris, dusting himself off. Before the mysterious figure could gain his bearings, Chris jumped over and held the knife to his throat from behind.

"Who are you?" Chris said into the man's ear.

The man swore loudly, throwing his hands into the air. "I just saved your life, man! What the hell?"

I've heard that voice before.

Chris let go and took a step back. He held the knife in front of him, aimed at his savior. "Turn around," he said, "Slowly."

As the man stood up and turned around, Chris couldn't believe his eyes.