Author's Note: This is my own sequel of sorts to the events in Raccoon City. I do not own Resident Evil and while this is in no sense cannon, I will try to keep it so that the story fits well with the rest of the series. Enjoy
Rated M for strong violence, strong language, and sexuality
Resident Evil: Ashes
Robert K. Anderson
"The living are stretched bows, whose purpose is death" -Heraclitus
Interval 01: Contamination
Matthew Riley ran as hard as his legs would carry him, tearing through the ruined streets of Raccoon city. Everywhere he looked he saw corpses, ruined cars, buildings with fire flaring out the windows, and the undead. The zombies were everywhere, their bloodied hands reaching out for Matthew's still warm flesh.
Matthew could only scream as he ran into an alley to try and escape the zombies. He saw a police officer standing just ahead of him, pistol clutched in a fist held by his side.
"Officer, help, the things are right behind me," Matthew cried out, coming up right behind the cop.
The officer turned, revealing the stomach that had been torn open, spilling intestines in greasy loops across the thighs of his uniform. A horrified expression came across Matthew's face. He struggled to stop from throwing up, but failed, spewing his last meal all across the zombie cop standing in front of him.
The creature paid no head to the vomit now staining its uniform along with its own blood. Its hands opened, dropping the pistol to the ground, and grabbed Matthew's shoulders. Matthew seemed unable to move, though he knew he had to run.
He screamed out as he felt the teeth of the monster tear into the meat of his shoulder. He could feel his blood gushing from the wound, and he instinctively dropped to the ground. The zombie's jaws tore a chunk of flesh from the shoulder, causing Matthew to bleed heavily.
As he fell to the ground, he saw the pistol laying just within reach. He grabbed it and spun onto his back as the zombie was lowering itself to feast on this fresh meal lying before it. Matthew didn't know much about weaponry, but he knew enough to squeeze the trigger.
The sound of the gunshot echoed through the valley, but the bullet had hit its mark, striking the zombie in the right side of the forehead. Blood ran from the wound and the mouth as the creature fell to the ground, truly dead. Its head struck the concrete hard enough that Matthew could hear a cracking sound upon impact.
He looked down the alley and saw more of the zombie approaching, moaning for his flesh.
Matthew sat straight up in his bed, the covers falling off his shirtless form. Cold sweat glistened on his skin as his chest heaved with exertion. The dreams had never stopped, ever since he had escaped Raccoon by slipping through the forest and the Arklay mountains.
He ran a hand through his graying hair, before looking down at his shoulder. Ten years had passed since Raccoon city was destroyed, and the mark was still there. The ragged scar he had never shown anyone before. What would he tell them, a zombie bit him in the shoulder before Raccoon city had been wiped off the face of the planet? The story was so outrageous that sometimes Matthew thought that perhaps he had dreamed all of the events that haunted his dreams. That was until he looked down at the pale scars over his shoulder of course.
Matthew let out a long sigh and looked over at the clock beside his bed. The red digital numbers read 3:00 am. He didn't have to be up for another four hours, and he didn't have to be at the hospital until eight.
Matthew placed his hands on his forehead and leaned back in his bed. As the skin of his back came into contact with the sheets covering his mattress he noted with some disgust that the sheets were damp with his own sweat.
The mechanic closed his eyes, and slowly he fell back to sleep. Hopefully in the short span that he was going to get, he wouldn't dream.
"…mayor greeted Richard Carmichael in front of city hall. The visiting Canadian Ambassador…" a news anchor on the radio had been trying to report just before Kyle Hamilton's hand slammed down on the snooze button, cutting the monotonic voice that had interrupted his sleep.
"I don't wanna get up," he whined into the soft goose down pillow.
"Aww baby," his wife Jessica joked beside him, rolling over onto her side to look at him, the white covers pulled up just enough to cover her body.
Kyle pulled his face from the pillow to look over at the woman he loved. Her long, smooth strawberry blond hair fell around her face like a frame, bringing out the cheery light of her forest green eyes. Her full, almost pouting lips were turned upwards in a bright smile.
"Baby?" Kyle asked, propping himself up on an elbow, raising one eyebrow slightly.
"Mhmm," Jessica sounded between closed lips, her face still glowing with her smile, which seemed to grow a little bigger.
Kyle immediately attacked, his fingers finding the bare skin of her stomach and beginning to tickly her mercilessly. She shrieked and began to let out uncontrollable fits of laughter, her legs kicking out, throwing the covers of the bed into disarray.
"Baby?" Kyle asked, now smiling himself.
Jessica could barely talk through her laughter, her hands vainly trying to push Kyle's away. Then something clicked in her mind. She grabbed her pillow and hit him across the head. He stopped tickling her and rebounded. The pillow hit him in the face and dropped into his lap.
"Yes… baby," she said, huffing between deep breaths.
"Okay you win," Kyle said with a small chuckle looking down at his pillow. The very one in which he had been taking solace from the waking world, and the very one which had defeated him, once again, in the tickle war.
He looked up to see his wife crawling towards him across the bed on all fours like a cat, a sexy smile she reserved only from him spreading across her face. Kyle felt all his love for this woman rush through his veins and every fibre of his mind, even as her delicate hand pressed against his chest and pushed him slowly back so that his head rested near the foot of the bed. She climbed slowly on top of him, laying herself atop him.
Their heat swirled through their skin, even as their lips gently came together in a tender and loving kiss. Kyle's arms encircled around his wife, holding her body close.
"Should have shaved hun," Jessica said, running a hand down Kyle's unshaven cheek, feeling the growing stubble.
"Yeah, I know… oh well. Hopefully it'll be a slow day, I'll see you tonight hun," Kyle said, kissing her good bye before heading out the door. The warm morning sun light the subdivision he lived on, and the summer air was full of children's laughter.
"Surprised so many are out this early," Kyle thought to himself as he followed the small walkway to the driveway where his blue Honda was parked. A black mug, with Pittsburg Steelers written across it in gold lettering over top of their symbol, was clutched in his hand filled nearly to the top with coffee, with a dab of Irish cream and a hint of Bailey's, just as he always took it.
As he opened his door and got inside his car Kyle thought to himself: 'I bet cops are the only guys who hope they have a slow day'. He pondered this a moment before starting up his car.
Matthew looked up at the front doors that led into the lobby of Riverton General Hospital. He let out a sigh as he started up the steps, a noticeable limp in his walk.
As he stepped into the lobby Matthew let his gaze shift across the room, taking in the nurses, the secretaries, the patients waiting for treatment, and family waiting for the good or bad news. Matthew spotted an older man in a brown coat reading the Riverton Times. There was a picture on the front page of the president's daughter, Ashley, with an accompanying headline reading "Presidents Daughter Rescued".
Matthew nodded; it was good to know that she was back safe and sound but he wasn't entirely interested in the full story. It more than likely wasn't that exciting.
Matthew walked up to the receptionist's desk, a weary smile on his aged face.
"Matthew Riley, here to see Dr. Kirkpatrick about my pre-operation appointment," he said politely.
"Okay just a second sir," the receptionist said, taping on the keys of her computer, fishing through gigabytes of information to find one man and his appointment.
"Alright, he's expecting you, go on ahead," she said with a smile.
Kyle sat in his cruiser on the side of one of the downtown streets watching pedestrians walk past and cars drive to wherever their passengers were off to. Kyle sighed, it was a slow day, and that was a good thing, but damn was he bored.
He really doubted anything would happen with the visiting ambassador in town. Not only was the Riverton Police Department out in full force, the ambassador had a few RCMP cruisers with well trained officers within.
Slow day, he couldn't wait to get back home to Jessica.
Matthew drained his beer, feeling the refreshing liquid run down his throat, slowly washing away his memories. There were others around him, for the most part enjoying themselves. There was a couple pressed against each other at one of the tables, occasionally sharing a deep kiss between drinks. There were some guys wearing leather football jackets from the local university drinking heavily and shouting out in merriment.
Matthew sighed, wishing he was able to just let go of all worries, maybe find a woman to spend just a night with. Just one night; he hadn't had a woman's company since Raccoon City, and would like to forget his journey through hell, for just one night.
He sighed taking another chug of beer. It was too much to ask for.
An ice cube hit him in the side of the head. Matthew turned around to see one of the university students staring at him, wearing a shit eating grin across his ugly mug.
"Cheer up ya old fart," he said with a laugh, and his friends quickly joined in.
"Fuck you and fuck off asshole," Matthew shot back with a glare.
The football players were taken back by the outburst, and the one who had thrown the ice cube stepped forward. Matthew's only warning of the incoming punch was the bartender's body tensing up for the imminent fight.
Matthew grabbed his bottle and turned on his stool. His bottle smashed across the kid's jaw, shattering on the impact. The kid stumbled out of his punch, blood running from his mouth as a broken tooth fell to the floor.
His friends immediately reacted by running over to help their friend, one of them punching Matthew square in the face. The mechanic felt his nose break, could feel the blood running from the wound, but he thrust out with his broken beer bottle, slashing the kid's forearm.
The kid recoiled grabbing the bleeding wound and Matthew tackled him. They crashed to the ground and Matthew began to pound his fist into the kids face. He could feel and see his own blood dripping from his nose onto the kid's face, but he was beyond caring.
He felt strong hands grab him and throw him off of the mauled kid on the floor, moaning in pain, hands grabbing his face. Matthew landed with his back against the bar, ass on the floor. He looked up to see on of the kids ready to start pummeling him.
"Stop" came the bartender's voice, followed by the cocking of a shotgun.
The kids backed away, and someone came by the help Matthew up. Once on his feet Matthew turned to his helper.
"Thanks," he found himself saying a pretty blonde woman. She wore a smile on her face, her eyes a sparkling blue.
"Not a problem. Let me take you home, you look like hell," the woman said, whipping a kerchief beneath Matthew's nose to remove the blood.
The kids had already left scared away by the shotgun, and seeing the woman with Matthew the bartender put the gun away after unloading it.
"Sure," Matthew said almost in a stammer, his dark thoughts from earlier on lifting from the clouds of his mind.
Kyle wandered into his house, kicking off his shoes and running a hand through his hair before letting out a long yawn. He tilted his head at the soft music playing, running through the walls of his home.
"Have you eaten honey?" Jessica's voice called out.
"Yeah I did," Kyle said walking into the bedroom, where he found his wife in bed, blankets pulled up to her waist, revealing her naked top half.
Around the room candles burned, sending soft light into the dark crevices and erotic shadows across the bed.
"Good, cause I've got something better for you," she said, beckoning him over with a single finger.
"Oh its going to be a good night," Kyle muttered to himself.
Matthew wasn't sure how it happened, the last hour was a blur to him, but he now found himself in his bed, looking down at the glistening body of a beautiful woman as he gently thrust within her.
Her hands held him close as they expressed their lust, their bodies coated in sweat. Their kissing was fast and fiery, tongues dancing as one as their bodies melded.
It didn't last very long, it had been so long for Matthew, and soon he grunted as his climax struck, and he laid himself on the warm body of Angela, the woman he had met at the bar.
In the back of his mind he scolded himself for not wearing a condom, but the main part of his consciousness was more interested in Angela's actions as she started to tease his body for more sex.
It was the first night in ten years that Matthew didn't worry about the undead.
Ricky groaned as he stumbled into his dorm room. His buddies helped him to the bed.
"That old fuck just beat the living shit out of you, of course you're going to have a headache," Tom told him.
They had had to drop Bill off at the hospital, the beer bottle had done some good damage to his jaw and mouth. But Ricky, his face was just going to be sore for awhile.
"No guys… it's… it's different. I've been beaten up before, never had a headache like this before," he said, laying down on his bed. His vision was swimming he couldn't concentrate on anything. He didn't know what was happening to him.
Did that old fuck have some kind of disease? Did some of his blood get inside him somehow? The troubling thoughts followed Ricky into a tormented sleep as his buddies left him.
In the darkness of night Angela stumbled to Matthew's bathroom. He was fast asleep but she was feeling sick. She opened his toilet and threw up, she was almost thankful for the distorted vision so that she wouldn't have to see the mess that splashed into the water, but that didn't stop her from smelling it.
Trembling Angela reached up and pulled the flusher on the toilet, even as a headache pounded within her skull. What the hell was wrong with her?