This is just a quick one-shot that popped up in my head while listening to Forsaken by Mutiny Within. I hope you all enjoy. Remember, I'm a huge fan of reviews.
Summary: Set during Extinction with my own twist on the timeline. Alice finds it easier to be on her own until one dream changes everything.
Rated: T
Disclaimer: If I owned Resident Evil, I wouldn't be sitting here writing fanfiction, now would I? Obviously I own nothing.
The desert was once a place full of rugged beauty. It was a place full of life, despite the harsh environment. Plants and animals adapted to the intense heat and little water, and thrived in it. This was a source of hope that life could endure anything thrown at it.
That was once upon a time in a land far, far away.
After the outbreak of the T-virus, almost everything died. The virus seemed to suck the life out of everything. Rivers and lakes eventually dried up, plants shriveled and died. Humans and animals alike succumbed to the virus, unfortunately they didn't stay dead. Once gripped by the T-virus, they were rejected by both Life and Death, left to wander the barren wasteland as rotting corpses and cannibalize whatever living beings they could find.
The desert, once a beautiful place, stretched beyond its confines. The sands rose and swallowed up the rest of the land. The spark of hope that the desert had offered before was now the source of fear and desperation.
In this forsaken land, that handful of survivors that were still alive found that hope was more and more a commodity they just did not have. They were forced to remain living on the road, less the walking dead find them. They turned into scavengers, picking at the remains of a long dead society in hopes of holding Death off a little while longer.
There was little variation to those who managed to survive the outbreak; there were the ruthless, the ones with survival sense, and finally those that managed to find the others who had survival sense. As time wore on, more and more it was the ruthless ones that found the most success – though it was usually short lived.
There was one, however, that wandered the barren sands alone. The only company she kept was her motorcycle and her weapons. At one time, she had traveled with others, but then the unhappy reality that she was no longer one of them struck and she left. Umbrella had turned her into something far more than human and she was only a danger to the few other survivors in the world.
"My name is Alice… and I remember everything."
She did remember everything – all the time she spent as security for Umbrella, all the things she could have done at the Raccoon City Hive to stop the outbreak, and all the things Umbrella did to her after that. What got her the most was how she could have stopped the outbreak.
Now, she lived in isolation with that burden. Every now and again she came across a small pocket of survivors, but even they were getting fewer and farther between.
Currently, according to her watch and written logs, it had been well over a month since her last run in with actual, living humans. That suited her just fine.
Without having to worry about anyone but herself, she was a harbinger of Death to the undead. The only worry that ever crossed her mind was where she'd find the next fuel source for her motorcycle – gas stations were starting to dry up quickly.
Tonight, she didn't have that worry. She'd filled up the day before and could usually manage at least three days on a tank of gas. She set up a small camp for herself, which consisted of an overly worn blanket being tossed on the ground, her coat bundled up to act as a pillow, and a small campfire.
She pulled out a can of food – she gave up on caring about what she ate long ago. With the infection of the T-virus, she didn't really need to eat or sleep, but some sort of repetitive pattern was necessary to retain her sanity. In a way, she was lying to herself, saying she needed these things because part of her was still human. Umbrella had taken that away from her.
While the can of food was heating by the fire, Alice pulled a tattered notebook and worn down pencil from her pack. She was halfway through filling up this notebook – it was the third one she'd used so far. Briefly she wondered where she would find another, but since notebooks weren't all that necessary for survival, she decided it would be fairly easy to find another.
Alice opened up the book, leafing through the worn pages and looking over the familiar notes she'd written. There was little diversity in her activities from day to day, the only thing that ever seemed to change were her thoughts. However, those too were on the brink of turning monotonous.
Once she found the next empty page, she picked up the pencil and began to write.
Another day without human contact of any kind. I just made it into Nevada and have plans of moving north in the morning. My plan is to cross over into what was once Canada and spend a week that far north to ensure continued evasion of Umbrella satellites – I have no doubt that they are still working and trying to find me.
It's been over a month since I've seen signs of real life. Is there anyone left out there? I'm beginning to wonder if this is my punishment, to be the last one alive, to be the final witness to all the destruction I could have stopped.
If I had moved quicker, remembered sooner, done ANYTHING differently, then maybe the world wouldn't be the god-forsaken wasteland that it is now.
The blonde stared long and hard at her last entry. It was the truth, she could have done something, anything back at the Hive she was charged to protect.
Unhappy, she cast the offending book of guilt and the instrument of its creation aside. Her appetite was now gone and that was perfectly fine with her. She laid back on the thread bare blanket, head resting on her bundled coat as she looked up to the stars. It was a clear night and the sight it offered was nothing short of beautiful.
She scoffed to herself, rolling over to avoid such a thing. The mere thought of anything left in the world worthy of the description was laughable. The world was ugly, filled with death and despair… and she could do nothing to fix it.
At some point in the middle of her self-loathing she fell asleep. The one thing that could offer her an escape from the world and herself usually didn't manage. Dreams and nightmares plagued her almost every time she fell asleep, but this time… it was different.
She was standing among the half-buried ruins of Las Vegas. There were vehicles coming into sight, a handful of them led by a yellow Hummer. They were heading for one of the hotels, likely looking for fuel. This was one of the worst places to find supplies, with so many people having been in the city before the outbreak…
That was when she realized there was no sign of the undead. It was strange and cast an eerie silence over the sand.
Her attention turned back to the vehicles as they stopped. A large shipping container was blocking the path to the hotel. She moved closer to get a better look as a striking redheaded woman stepped out of the Hummer. "Spread out! Let's move this thing. I want to get out of here as soon as we can," she ordered.
People got out of their vehicles – they looked desperate, but that wasn't surprising since they'd come to Vegas looking for supplies.
A young man got the wench cable from his van and moved toward the shipping container. Another man made an appearance – it was Carlos. He was helping the younger man. Everything seemed to be going rather well for them, but then Carlos stopped and looked at the container.
After that, everything happened in a flash. The container opened up and infected poured out from within. Carlos and the young man he'd been helping were the first ones downed. Panic immediately hit the other people and they began firing frantically.
Alice, strangely calm, moved forward into the fray. She didn't have any of her weapons, but she wasn't here to fight anyway. The infected that had come out of the crate were much faster than they should have been and were wearing similar jumpsuits – all with the Umbrella logo on them.
People were dying left and right, ripped apart by the infected. The redhead that Alice had noticed first was trying desperately to fend off the undead, but there were just too many. A blonde teenager screamed as she was caught by a powerful hand and dragged down to the ground. A black man – LJ, she now realized – swore vehemently as two infected rushed him; one took a chunk out of his arm and the other bit into his leg. That striking redhead, now filled with such despair that Alice could hardly continue watching, was one of the last to be overcome.
Everything had begun and ended in less than ten minutes. The screams of agony from those being eaten alive still rang in her ears, even as she was surrounded by nothing more than dead bodies and those who were still feasting away.
Alice jerked awake, finding her pistol as a first instinct to ward off whatever had startled her. She realized that it had only been her dream that woke her, but did not find comfort in it. In fact, she was nauseous, recalling the gory, horribly vivid details of the dream.
This was not something she'd witnessed, though. Yes, she knew Carlos and LJ, but she hadn't seen them in a long time. The others, she had no idea who they were. She reached up to rub her forehead, unsure of what the dream meant. It was certainly unlike any dream she'd ever had.
She remembered the radio in her pack and pulled it out, switching it on. The only thing working now was the emergency broadcast frequency, but she wasn't disappointed.
"This is Claire Redfield's convoy broadcasting on the emergency frequency for survivors. Our current position is the Desert Trails Motel. Is there anybody out there?"
The voice belonged to a man that sounded fairly young with an Australian accent. A convoy meant a group of people… maybe the ones she'd just watched die in her dream? But if they were still broadcasting and weren't in Vegas…
New determination filled Alice as she gathered up her things and packed them away again. It was at least two hours before sunrise and traveling in the dark was dangerous, but she didn't care. She pulled her coat on again and swung the bag over her shoulder before kicking sand over the dying fire.
She was still a ways out from the convoy and the city that would ultimately kill them, so she needed to move quickly. Now, more than ever, she was happy her bike could cover long distances without guzzling down the gas.
By the time the sun had risen above the horizon, she had put a good bit of distance between her and the camp site she left behind. Her radio was still on, but the transmissions had stopped. That had to mean they were on the road now – and that only lengthened the distance between her and the convoy. She pressed on, trying to catch up before her dream became a reality.
But why did she care? She could pretend that it was for Carlos and LJ, but they weren't the ones that had stuck out in her dream. The red haired leader was what caught her attention.
Mid-morning offered up the Desert Trails Motel, but it was vacated. There were signs of activity, which was a very good thing. She wasn't too far behind them. If she was right, they were heading for Las Vegas, and that was the direction she was moving in now.
Her race to catch up with the convoy was wearing on into the afternoon when she picked up on their radio signals again. She'd managed to close some of the distance between them and was well within range again.
"Take a look at this." Her radio crackled to life – it was so unexpected, it nearly startled her.
She recognized that as the redhead's voice from her dream. The next voice that spoke was familiar as well, it was Carlos.
"Without anyone to hold the sand back, looks like the desert took back the city."
They were in Vegas, just arriving by the sound of it. She had almost caught up to them, less than ten minutes outside the city. Those ten minutes could be exactly the same ten minutes as what cost the convoy their lives.
Alice could almost see the yellow Hummer come to a stop and everyone started to get out of their vehicles as she pressed forward. For the first time in a long time, she hoped she wouldn't be too late to help these people.
It seemed to take forever to cover anymore distance, but the half-buried ruins of Las Vegas eventually turned up on the horizon. The motorcycle beneath her was threatening to give out, but she just needed it to get a little further.
Moving into the city, she could see the vehicles of the convoy. People were out moving around already, but they weren't dying. That was a very good sign. Her attention moved to the front of the group – Carlos and the young man were moving toward the shipping container.
She reached behind herself and fished a submachine gun from her pack. Time seemed to slow down as she approached, watching as the container opened up. She swung the gun around, as the first few undead tried to spill forth, and fired a handful of shots.
The members of the convoy were temporarily distracted, trying to figure out why the infected figures seemed to drop dead for no reason. Then they noticed the approaching figure on a motorcycle.
Time returned to its normal course as the other survivors got into combat mode and started to defend themselves. Dozens of infected were rushing out now, but now that they knew about the threat, the convoy actually stood a chance.
Alice stopped the motorcycle by the container, pulling out a shotgun in hopes that it would take out two or three of the undead with one shot. Her ammunition was expended rather quickly and she was forced to default to her kukri blades. They were just as deadly though, and certainly wouldn't run out of ammunition.
After beheading a few of the enhanced infected, she spared a quick glance around the area. There were a few people dead, but not nearly as many as she'd seen in her dream. There weren't anymore undead coming out of the container, so she moved away from it to help the other survivors.
The blonde teenager was running from a pair of undead, but one thrown kukri blade and another shoved into an undead back remedied that situation. "Th-thank you," the teen said breathlessly, but with an undeniable sincerity.
Alice offered her a nod, moving in the direction she heard more gunshots from. She saw the redheaded convoy leader at a van, trying to reload a rifle as one of the infected approached – there was another one coming up behind her as well. The other woman was able to reload and fire at the one before her, but she had yet to notice the other.
Alice pulled out one of her revolvers and with deadly accuracy, planted a bullet in the other infected's brain. The sound of the shot drew the redhead's attention, and a look of relief shown across her features as she noticed that she had just been saved from an unsavory death.
Carlos came to check on the other woman, and then noticed their unexpected guest. "Alice? Jesus, you have great timing," he said.
"You know her?" the redhead inquired.
"Yeah. Claire, this is Alice. Alice, this is Claire Redfield," Carlos made quick with the introductions.
Claire looked the blonde over, sizing her up, before stepping forward and offering her hand. "Thank you for your help."
Alice merely nodded and shook the redhead's hand. As she looked at Claire, she couldn't help but think that maybe – just maybe – the world wasn't as forsaken as she thought. There might just be beauty left in the world, something worth fighting for.