The Cold
Juno woke up as slowly as if she was one of them, one of the newly risen dead. Her breathing, so discreet she could have been mistaken for a fresh suicide. Her eyes, opened only enough to allow a little slit of vision. She didn't move, she didn't flinch or stir more than a corpse. Her eyes stayed as still as the person next to her had taught her.
Her eyes, unfocused, looked only for movement. There was none, everything was as it was left.
Still and in its place…
She focused on her hearing, there was nothing, no sound, nothing but the low whispering of the wind through the railing wall in the gas station they were in.
The sky was grey, she felt cold, she always felt cold, everything, everything was always cold and dark, and dead.
She focused on her sense of smell, there was the same acrid, sweet, sickly smell in the air. Humidity, rotting food, rotting meat, and smoke.
How long had it been?
How long had it been since she had had a shower?
Sleep in a warm bed?
Sleep at all….
Juno had no trouble falling asleep but for some reason she never got much rest out of it. Sure, physical fatigue went away but she always felt weary of the mind.
Perhaps it was how things had changed. She had never had to fight for her life, run for her life. The ways things had changed kept her in a constant state of stress. She learned to deal with it, but it had paid off in several occasions to be on her guard at all times.
To be alert, to be paranoid
Ever since the first outbreaks of the sickness everything had changed. She had always believed that people were essentially decent beings. She was wrong, she had never been more wrong in her life. Now, she was hesitant to trust anyone outside the group. She couldn't, for the sake of her friends.
Her eyes focused on the person next to her, her older brother Thomas. He had always been there for her, as children, and now as young adults. He would never leave her behind that was his promise.
She gazed around her, barely moving her head.
In the corner, snuggled together both covered by a gray, shabby blanket, was the only other adult in the group.
Samuel
He was an older man in his forties, heavy set with a southern gentleman demeanor, he was after all from New Orleans. He had supremely enjoyed being a father and his experience in the same, reflected on how he interacted with the adolescents of the group, which was to say, everyone present at the moment. He had owned a restaurant next to the bayous and was its owner and chef.
His daughter whom was back at Bulwark, was a perpetual ray of sunshine that kept the group in good spirits. A dark skinned little girl with three braids, who always had the strange ability to never let anything, no matter how bad, let it down her spirits. She always carried a stuffed horse with her. A run down, but obviously lovingly taken care of little thing.
Then there was Madel sleeping in her corner while sitting in her perfectly strait posture. She was one of Juno's childhood friends, the only one that had survived the outbreak. A curvaceous and voluptuous looking girl who was obsessed with literature and Aerosmith, Thomas had a thing for her, Juno knew.
Then there was Elizabeth, a Goth girl from New Jersey, she was in a perpetually nasty mood, she wrote sad poetry in a black book which she had allowed no one to read. She didn't do much of anything and was a terrible shot, she did however fill the role of babysitter for Nikki, albeit unwillingly. She was always a pessimist and smoked like a chimney, this bugged Juno in how they were both the same age but both had such markedly different ways of health.
Elizabeth was somewhat sickly and did nothing to improve her condition.
Juno was healthy and fit and did everything to keep it that way.
Being in shape was an asset as to survival in general she always said, smirking at the obviousness of the thought.
The only person Elizabeth had ever warmed up to was Edward
Everyone had lost parts of themselves and been affected profoundly by the virus, but Edward was a case apart. He had embraced the new spirit of a world post-apocalyptic with open arms and with no moral compass, completely willing to do anything to survive, no matter how outside the comfort zone it was.
Edward was an oasis in calm in the worst of situations.
Still, for all of his plusses in battle. He was an indecipherable human being, although he was kind and could always be depended on to do the right thing, he was not a person who was taken with expressing his doubts with others. He didn't trust anyone in Bulwark, or anyone he knew if fact.
At any rate, that had been six months ago a little before the S.T.A.R.S had shown up, bless them.
He had never backed down from danger. He had never left them behind or lied to them. And he saved all of them at least once. Even Elizabeth, a person for which she knew Edward had a degree of contempt for.
Come to think of it. Where was Edward?
Juno stood up slowly as to not wake up anyone. She looked about stressfully, feeling the chill of the expected realization that this was the day he decided to abandon them.
Edward was not around, he was not in the room at all, and his sparse belongings were gone as well.
Shit…
She walked briskly to the door after snatching up her handgun and checking to see if there was a bullet in the chamber.
She stepped outside while zipping up her mountaineer jacket knowing the slap of the winter's cold.
She had to look for him, at least the immediate area, but in all probability, he was nearby killing something.
Edward sat crouched outside amidst some wreckage not too far off from the gas station.
The entire surrounding area was shrouded in a light, frosty mist. He liked these conditions, no sun, cold, cloudy.
He caressed his rifle lovingly. Admiring the aged synthetic stone that made up the body of the rifle, the engraved vine patterns and the few marked symbols that marked the whole of the creamy smooth weapon, the gunsmith had been an artist, this was her pride and joy. Often he had wondered if the owner would come to reclaim the gun one day, he didn't think so.
But was it too much to hope for that the owner was dead? Likely yes
He carefully leaned the rifle on a piece of broken glass inside the ruins of the house on the second floor.
His sublimely sensitive hand coiled around the handle of the gun, his index finger rested on the trigger patiently.
Edward unfocused his eyes to detect any movement, he was more than certain that something had been stalking the group from a few nights before.
His mind paced quietly with the possible stalkers, he salivated at the thought of hunting them.
It could be one of the skinless monsters known as Lickers. Fast bastards, they could climb on walls and dart around faster than you can train the gun on them. They were however, blind, crouching down and being perfectly silent made them stop and listen, confused, probably trying to discern if their prey had gone or disappeared.
A Chimera, the experimental offspring of a fly and a human being, would have followed a similar pattern, and so would have a Tyrant, stubborn creature.
Remembering the names of the B.O.W his mind wandered back to the S.T.A.R.S he had met over a year ago.
They had broken into a lab trying to find a cure to the virus that was allegedly kept there. Edward had had his reasons for being in the lab as well. But his hunting had proven to be fruitless, and so had the S.T.A.R.S' searches. After escaping from the circus of monstrosities that was that lab, he left them. He had failed in his search, and had nothing else to do with them, so what other thing to do but leave.
Chris Redfield
Claire Redfield
Rebecca Chambers
Leon Kennedy
Jill Valentine
Edward smirked at how he had caused a childish wariness in them, he was wearing the same armor and the same head gear, the same glaring gas mask helmet. He never took it off during the entire search and hadn't uttered one more word than he had to in order to join them. That included not giving them his name. And to this day they were unaware that it was he who had joined them in their search and now had ended up in the same band of survivors.
But this new facility they had found was a huge one and it seemed promising. It likely contained the cure he had so desperately wanted at the time, and now no longer.
His eyes focused intensely at the source of movement at his right.
It was Juno coming out of the gas station.
"Edward!" she called out to him, looking around to see where he was.
He was just about to call out to her when he felt a chill in his spine. The cold air around his lungs inside his chest cavity, the feeling of prey being stalked, his eyes were glued to the front but every one of his now adrenaline enhanced senses, were concentrated behind him.
He slipped his hand around the tip of his mother's overpowered and oversized rifle in order to bring it behind him in a second with precision and steadiness into an aim, if he felt he had the chance to fire.
There was something behind him. And he could sense it was big, he could also sense it was salivating at his scent, it was supremely enjoying the feeling of being behind its prey soon to be meal without the same realizing it.
Whatever was behind him, it knew what it was doing, it was an able and competent hunter. It had to be in order to have snuck up on him.
The creature as if sensing that the man knew it was right behind him released its breath.
A low growl whispered out of its maw. Saliva dribbled out of its now gaping mouth ready to bite down.
Edward's adrenaline fueled body tensed, he could make the jump down to the small patch of broken wall outside no problem. He was ready to jump, but before he did, he moved his head around slowly to look behind him. Out of morbid curiosity, a curiosity aimed at placing a face at his adversary hunter. After he did, he wished he hadn't.
The creature roared a terrifying and disturbing roar. Like a hoarse wolf howling, and three people moaning in a symphony of agony at the same time.
It was low and high at the same time, it was off keyed, like someone unused to singing. It caused a primeval fear in anyone who heard it, something of time immemorial. A fear embedded in all human beings in the deepest recesses of the human mind, from when human beings were still prey.
The roar gave Edward even more of a push; he jumped out of the window to hard concrete.
Thomas woke up at the sound of a roar. It was the most disturbing and horrifying thing he had ever heard.
Everyone jolted out of their sleeping places with a massive gush of adrenaline. Everyone stood up, alert and all thinking the same thing.
Something was attacking them.
Thomas instantly looked to his side where Juno had been sleeping, she wasn't there, she wasn't in the gas station and neither was Edward.
Shit…
"Juno!" he screamed to the top of his lungs, fearing the worst as he bolted through the door.
Juno felt terror bloom within her anew. What in the hell had that sound been? Where was Edward? Was he dead?
She trained her weapon where the sound had come from. She could hear the sound of rapid steps on the tar of the littered streets.
She saw a shadow make its armored silhouette in the mist from some ruins. The shadow twisted around and fired, one, two, three shots behind it and kept running.
It was Edward.
She lowered her gun slightly, when she saw him running , he was running hard, harder that she had ever seen him move which was impressive.
He must have seen what made that sound and come back to rendezvous with them.
She saw another shadow, one bent on all fours running after him, it was the size of a horse.
It materialized in the mist, Juno, had to double take at the shadow, for a moment she thought she saw the one thing she had always been afraid of hiding under her bed or in her closet as an infant. She trained the gun on Edward and took careful aim, her senses sharpened by fear.
She fired twice, both shots whizzed past Edward's head and hit the creature.
It whined pitifully like a hurt dog and skidded to a halt, backed off, and charged back running into the shadows.
Juno smiled in disbelief, she had driven back that…that…thing. But the whine, it sounded like that of a dog's.
She heard Thomas calling her name, and he followed the call in quick succession out of the gas station along with the rest of the group, armed and training their guns neutrally in the general direction where Juno was aiming hers.
Edward however didn't slow down, when she could make out his body language was excited and angry, her heart sank. It was never a good thing when a mercenary veteran like him was scared.
He kept running to them.
"Edward what where you doing out here what happened?!" yelled Thomas in an accusatory tone.
Edward latched onto Juno's arm, who was some feet in front of the group, spun her around and shoved her into the direction of the gas station.
"We have to go, we have to go now, right now!" he yelled at them letting the fear flow into his voice as it rasped from his helmet's voice box.
Samuel, Madel and Elizabeth didn't have to hear it twice, if it was bad enough to get Edward this scared, then they had to get away.
"Get into the car" he ordered to everyone with a more level tone.
"Edward, what happened?!" yelled Thomas at the man who was shoving Elizabeth in the direction of the heavy minivan they used, while shepherding Juno as well.
"Answer my fucking question nutcase!" he said shoving Edward.
The man spun around on his heel and smacked Thomas across the face with his white rifle, and then jabbed the gun into Thomas's check violently while grabbing him by the collar.
"Get into the fucking car!" he yelled at Thomas to the top of his voice before kicking the young man away into the direction of the car.
Before Thomas could brandish his own gun, in defense, Edward took aim into the mist at a target only he saw and fired two shots.
Something whined that same pitiful sound in pain. That disturbing shriek, whine and it backed away. Then, it howled.
The monstrous howl, it echoed throughout the ruins of the damned city.
A chorus erupted from it in response, a chorus of its kin.
That was the last incentive they needed.
Everyone made a flash blitzkrieg to gather their supplies into the large, armored pickup and started the car.
Juno helped everyone and everything into the van and saw that Edward wasn't inside.
He was standing in the middle of the plaza of the gas station with his pistol and rifle taking and switching aim at several different directions of the street, shrouded in the mist. He would fire the occasional shot and hit something producing the same haunting whine.
Whatever it was, it was sticking to the mist and away from Edward's sight.
Samuel pulled the car next to Edward and the same let himself drop backwards into the open pickup's side door. The door closed, and the tires screeched as they pulled away.
Edward took deep breaths as the car pulled away into the light of the rising sun and into the open highway.
"Edward, what was that?" asked Juno, straining slightly because of Edward's weight on her petit frame. He had fallen on her when he jumped backwards into the car.
The man remained silent for a moment
The inside of the van was silent, Edward looked back at Juno who was looking at him fixatedly and confused, not minding the weight at all so much as wanting to know what in the hell had just attacked them.
Edward got off her and sat on the seat next to her, who was sandwiched between him and Madel.
"Children of the Moon" he said, pulling off his helmet and clutching his rifle to his lap.
"And in English that means?" interjected Elizabeth who was sitting in the back, wide eyed and gulping.
"Werewolves"
One month later…
Rebecca Chambers was running. She had been running for as long as she could remember, and it was getting increasingly difficult to discern when she had started and when she had to stop.
The T-Virus at the Spencer Mansion spread. It spread even though the mansion was destroyed, and despite the efforts of the Umbrella cleanup crews, it spread and people began to die.
She had been in a coma after a car accident soon after she survived her ordeal at the laboratory where she had met an Umbrella mercenary that was also looking for a cure. But now it seemed things had gotten worse, so much worse. It was almost like her youthful fantasies when she was younger.
She was a princess in medieval times, she had servants, a grand castle, a prince and knights who loved and protected her. These were her favorite dreams, but this felt like a nightmare. One that no matter how hard she tried, she could not deny.
Every time she woke since that hellish start, she found that she could not wake from the nightmare.
Everything had degraded so quickly. The frail order of society was torn asunder so quickly, she didn't recognize the city anymore.
She wasn't sure where she was exactly. She had woken in a private part of the hospital, she was somewhere but she was not sure exactly where. But she knew one thing; it was cold.
Her fellow S.T.A.R.S took care of her while she was asleep, and they told her what it was that this disaster had wrought after they had returned to the hospital which happened to be a center of operations for what was left of S.T.A.R.S and other federal branches of enforcement.
What followed the wake of the terrifying pathogen was one thing...
Complete and utter chaos...
Deaths by the thousands and armies of the dead.
She was running, she had to run, she had to run, or else they would catch her. Not the dead, but the living.
After all the fighting, all the blood, all the deaths. Firearms became a luxury of sorts. And a new and long dead art took its place; Melee combat.
She was outnumbered and alone, separated from Enrico, from Jill, from Chris and his sister during the infighting as a horde of survivors, refugees and marauders came to the city.
If she stopped, if she let go, she would die.
She was running, she was running even when her legs wanted to buckle.
She was running even though her insides were screaming at her to stop and rest.
She was running even as her body cried for nourishment not having been fed for days.
Her head was swimming, her body was drained.
She realized then and there, she had never truly understood the concept of exhaustion before.
She could hear the shouts from the men chasing her, armed with pipes, bats and al sorts of other make shift weapons.
She could hear them but she couldn't understand what it was they were saying.
She couldn't understand anything anymore, why people sought to kill other living people when there was a bigger threat around, in the form of the infected.
And why was it that they turned to religion to satisfy their misery and terror?
Was it hatred?
Was it fear?
Whatever it was, it was beyond her, all that she could understand, was that for all her desire to prove herself a worthy S.T.A.R.S, she could not fight them. She was too tired, too weak from exhaustion.
She felt like a child again, running from her nightmares.
All she could understand was her fear, the basest fear a human being can have. The fear that animals feel when they meet something that can hurt them.
"Run or it's going to get you!"
That was all she could understand...
She understood however, she was going to die when she ran around the corner of the street, in the carcass of what was this once beautiful city. The streets littered with paper, trash, burnt out cars and drenched in blood. But with no bodies around. Just the thick, palpable smell of death and blood and gore.
She was in hell, and her legs gave when she saw what it was she had run into.
A trio of survivors, all masked and armed, with uniforms that looked like modern versions of the SS troops of World War II. They turned as they saw her and drew their weapons and raised their firearms. Rebecca felt, somehow, her dreams had come to life, she was looking at the knights from her castle. She didn't know what their intentions were, all she could understand was that she was going to die.
The one of middle height drew his bayonet, a long cruel blade that was long enough o be a short sword.
The last thought to pass her mind was the one question she still had the strength to ask herself as she lay on her knees, defeated, as her executioners approached her in all their horrific glory.
Is this how her life was to end?
After all she had been through.
Was this it?
A flurry of shots echoed through the city like a canyon. Everything was silent once again, save for the whisper of the coming winter storm.
The snow was crimson, but this was soon to pass just like all the other blood spilled since the outbreak. Covered under snow, ice and cold, it would disappear with a virgin coat of new fall snow, waiting to be tarnished with new blood, and new death.
This was the world…