Title: Dire Straits

Summary: A reflective piece on Luther West before and during the events of Afterlife.

Disclaimer: Resident Evil and all things related are property of Capcom, Sony Pictures and Paul W.S. Anderson. I own nothing but this story before you.


Luther considered himself a fortunate man. In the world before the fall, he lived a comfortable life of celebrity in Los Angeles; a star basketball player with a lucrative deal to advertise watches and look pretty for all his adoring fans, Luther had little to nothing to worry about besides a sex scandal.

And what brother wasn't hit with a sex scandal?

All things considered, when the news of a viral outbreak started to spread around the news, he didn't think much of it. As long as he kept himself out of the areas that were quarantined, he was sure he would be alright. Los Angeles had it covered, advising the populace to following the rhetoric given to them by the Umbrella Corporation on what to do and what not to do. Yet, when and how things deteriorated as fast as they did was still a relative mystery for Luther. One morning he getting ready for his workout, the next he fighting off his brick house of a bodyguard, now a flesh eating monster.

None of it made any sense to him; he spent barely half a day in his lavish mansion before he realized the building was too exposed in its design to keep him safe. So, like anyone in his position, he packed whatever was necessary to keep him going (a few non-essentials) and jumped into his SUV. As expected, the roads were jammed with cars trying to leave city, he spent a good half an hour in his car before daring to hoof it. A bad idea, he would later decide. There wasn't anywhere he could good without running into one of the shambling monsters; there wasn't anyone that could help him, as they were all too preoccupied with their woes to give a damn about the man across from them.

Internalized prejudices became twice as apparent now that there was no law to abide by and people feelings to consider. If being Black and famous was hard when the world was sociable and organized, then it was thrice as worse when you were constantly being labeled as a potential thief of a survivor's foodstuff. And the worst part of it was, he never knew when someone was being a racist asshole or a paranoid survivor hounded one too many times by scavengers. Hell, all he had to do was walk around out in the open and some redneck lunatic was bound to go off on him if he wasn't careful. But was it racism or survivalism or both?

Thinking about it made him crazy.

When he met the other survivors, Angel Ortiz was leading them out of the convention center, a former haven before it was overrun with infected. The citadel correctional facility, ironically, was the last and unexpected place for safe haven; and as if to signify they were only delaying their inevitable deaths, the dead began to enclose the otherwise reinforced walls of the prison. Help seemed a false hope that kept them going, the dank and concrete environment of the prison made for a surreal experience that seemed to tell them their number was up and it was only a matter of time before they were some zombie's dinner.

Sleeping in cells once meant for criminals was uncomfortable for the first few months, then it became routine. Everything about the prison that was once seen as a punishment became vital to their survival. Despite Ortiz's obvious experience in leading and organizing the many, people looked to him, Mr. Star Power himself, for answers. Given the situation, Luther wasn't going to upset an already fragile balance so while he took a modicum of control, he never once tried to usurp the chain of command. Instead, without so much noticing, Ortiz allowed him to take the lead regardless and supported his decisions when necessary.

Eventually it became second nature to take the lead, second nature to confide in Ortiz when things seemed at their lowest.

Luther gelled relatively well with the likes of Ortiz, Crystal and Kim. Despite the latter two's duress brought on by the situation, they tried their best to work in unison with the group as opposed to the being combative. Wendell and Bennett, on the other hand, were argumentative, twitchy and quick to question the chain of command.

Bennett had his head so far up his ass Luther was convinced he didn't realize the world was changed and he couldn't be an asshole to everyone anymore. Wendell was content to sit around and read dirty magazines and attempt to peer in on Crystal during shower time. They caused minimal problems, but there were times he wanted to feed them to dead.

Which was not a good thing to think about when you were a leader of the last of mankind.


(FIN)


Author's Note (SPOILERS): As much as I enjoyed "Retribution", screw you Paul W.S. Anderson for knocking off all the Characters of Color in your sequel, but most especially Luther West who wins the award for pointless death of the year. Way to stick to the status quo, brah.