Imagine a city

Imagine a city. Imagine a decimated city. Imagine a hollowed out, burnt shell of a city. The sky was perpetually dark, wind blew softly across the river and worked its way into the various nooks and crannies that the upright buildings still possessed. Many buildings were still upright, but nobody had set foot in them for years.

The city was the anti-Manhattan, a skyline monstrous and pale against a dark, cloudy sky. The empty streets were silent and numb, waste paper skipping across the roads when prompted by the wind. Burnt out cars adorned street corners, shop windows smashed, windows and doors boarded up.

Softly, almost mockingly, an old radio abandoned on the Ironmongers shop front crackled into life, playing a crackly, thirty-second excerpt from 'What a wonderful World' before shorting out and fading again.

Nothing lived in this town.

Apart from its undead inhabitants, shuffling out of shop doorways, lurching through alleys and into the streets, a cancerous plague upon the city. Plaintive moans floated through the air, the cry of a lost soul.

Leon sighed, admiring what had once been a fine looking city from the open hatch of the Helicopter as it headed east, to the financial district.

He turned to his right, where Jill, Claire and Luke Bremen, the other member of their patrol sat, all waiting for the helicopter to drop them off.

Leon reloaded his Colt M16, and slung it over his shoulder. After a certain amount of thought, he slung his AK-47 around his neck. Never knew when you needed the extra weaponry. As well as his ammo for both of the weapons, he had two grenades clipped to his belt.

He felt the wind gently massage his face, and closed his eyes as if deep in thought. The weather was always reliable, it pissed down sometimes, but apart from that it was always pretty dry and clear. During the winter it was cold, but it was currently early summer – so it was warm.

The problem is that summer conjures up images of children dancing in the sun, barbecue parties, sunbathing under a hot summer sun. This description certainly did not apply here.

"Ready?" Jill asked, disrupting Leon's thoughts, and he quickly turned to her.

"Yeah" he said, giving her a lopsided grin "Just about"

He looked over the city for a few seconds before turning back.

"Just wondering what the city would have looked like if the whole country hadn't gone to hell"

He was part of the resistance, part of a small resistance that still held out in the smoking remains of Gregaville, a town practically pounded to dust by the USAF's attempts to wipe out all of the zombies. Yet they still came, and it was eventually decided that bombing wasn't the answer. The T-Virus had been released after Umbrella failed to negotiate with Albert Wesker, who pulled the trigger on the apocalypse by systematically releasing stocks of T-Virus throughout the world via computer. The virus spread quickly through the US, and before anybody knew what was going on, mutated creatures lurched, crawled and slithered through alleys through towns all over America – The government practically disintegrated, and so out of the smoking remains out of what had once been the world, resistance emerged to try and stop the zombies. War raged against the zombie terror along the banks of the river Thames in London, battles against the plague were waged in Tokyo, and the rest of the human population fled underground. Yet the zombies kept coming. Despite the fact an antidote had been obtained, more zombies were created and armies of creatures roamed the countries of what had once been North and South America, Europe and Asia. The seemingly unlimited zombie forces put a strain on ammo supplies, which were hurriedly removed from air force and army bases around the world, and were smuggled underground for the various resistance groups to use. Yet the number of zombies and creatures outweighed the resistance nearly five to one.

The resistances kept in contact via stolen radios and still functioning telegraph poles, but the latter were hard to come by.

Leon was one of the lucky survivors of what was now labelled as 'Zombie day', along with various other survivors of the first zombie disaster, and a girl he'd grown quite close to – Claire Redfield. The young girl Sherry was also safe, but she held close to Claire for most of the time, even sleeping in her room. The main base underground was a constructed concrete bunker, secretly built underground in times of war by the US government, now completely decayed. It had a living capacity of nearly 200,000 – So there was plenty of rooms to spare, and lots of rooms were assigned ammunition storage.

The world was now merely Zombies versus humans, the hunters versus the hunted.

The problem was that the humans were quite often the hunted.

A sad smile pinched Jill's lips.

"Yeah…We'd all be normal people if this hadn't happened"

"And here we are" Claire said, edging closer to Leon "Scrounging for food like rats"

"All we can do to stay alive" Leon said, turning to her.

He gently placed his hand on hers, her fingers linked his. She smiled at him, and leaned against his shoulder.

"Do you think…Chris is okay?" she asked, softly.

"I'm sure he is" Leon replied.

Claire swallowed.

"You're the only guy I really admire, Leon" she whispered.

Leon gave her a squeeze.

"Same goes for you, babe"

He realised he'd used the word 'babe'.

"Whoops…Sorry, no sexual intentions meant there" he apologised.

She grinned.

"Apology not needed, but accepted anyhow"

There was a yell from the front.

"Okay guys, let's get ready to rock and roll! Two minutes, maximum until we reach the Arubia building"

Leon nodded.

"Was that a city bank?" Luke asked.

"I think so – But one of the huge kinds, a skyscraper I think" Leon replied.

"Right" Luke said, nodding "I thought it was weird they said 'drop them off on the twenty-fifth floor'"

"They've got great imaginations" Jill said "No, the ground floor's too boring, why not drop us off about two hundred feet above the ground?" she added, sarcastically.

They all became aware of the chopper leaning in towards an enormous glass building, spare rays of sunlight reflecting off its mirror like surface.

"How do we get in?" Luke asked.

Leon shook his head, wonderingly.

"How do you think?"

The helicopter turned toward the building, and suddenly the air was filled with the staccato thudding of the chopper's built in minigun.

There was the sound of glass smashing, and when the chopper lurched back with its side parallel to the building, they all saw seven or eight windows on their destination floor completely shattered.

"Ah" Luke said, simply.

"That's our entry point" Claire declared "Let's get ready to jump"

The chopper got closer and closer, as close as it could without its blades tearing into the building itself, and Leon found himself poised on the edge of the door, the thumping blades whipping up his hair into a frenzy as the chopper got close.

"Okay!" the pilot yelled "I reckon we've got five minutes before Umbrella's Terror-patrol moves down here again, so be quick!"

Five minutes?

Damn, Umbrella were getting better all the time. A demented faction of Umbrella still existed known as Terra-Umbrella, whose avowed aim was Umbrella's domination of the world.

This included the destruction of any human resistance groups who posed a threat to them, which meant them. They had what the resistance called, 'Terror Squads' usually consisting of helicopters and grunts who would shoot on sight and without mercy.

"GO! GO! GO!" The pilot screamed, and Leon clipped on the zip wire attached to a winch on the chopper, and fired its end into one of the solid steel support struts of the building using its custom launcher, designed by some of their engineers to scale large buildings in air-transport. The head buried itself into the steel, and Leon clipped himself on.

With one push, he slid down the fifteen-foot length of the blades, and into the side of the building. He stepped onto the surface, disconnected and jumped inside, withdrawing his M16.

Claire, Jill and Luke followed in quick succession.

"Okay" Leon said, turning to his compatriots "Let's find this cache of food the Air-force supposedly dropped"

They were all sceptical about the intelligence they had received from 'mysterious sources' in the USAF, but when food was at stake, you didn't doubt intelligence. Apart from the people who were sent out to get it.

There were assorted moans.

They spun around, and out of the gloominess of the office they had landed in lurched five familiar looking creatures, all rotting, pale white drool leaking down their decomposing chins. Eyes blank, mouths open and hungry. They had just found their lunch. All four of them were dressed in ragged office uniforms, a Christmas tie hanging off one of the lost souls bodies. One of the creatures gurgled loudly, a nauseating, bloodthirsty snarl that came right from the throat.

Leon was the first to open fire, feeling the assault rifle jerk in his grip as he unleashed a torrent of bullets into one of the creatures, bullets thudding into it and sending fountains of scarlet blood splashing against the work surface it stood in front of, the creature jerking spastically as if it was a Z-list extra in an old Cowboy movie.

Claire's M16 demolished the second zombies kneecaps, bullets shattering the bone quickly, the creature dropping on its front, knees snapping with a nauseating wet crunch. The third took four accurate shots in the head from Jill, the creature toppling over onto one of its shattered comrades. The fourth was dealt with by Luke, who simply shot it again and again with his 12-bore shotgun until it fell on its back, its stomach the consistency of mashed potato.

"Right" Leon said "After that little interruption, I think we can get on with it"

They scoured the office space, every now and then coughing on the dusty air that lingered in the place. Abandoned desktops covered with papers were the dominant features, old coffee cups turned over, their dry contents spread over old print-outs like an unwanted mould.

Which it now was.

"Yuck" Jill said, seeing the furred brown mass that had once been coffee "I'll never think of coffee the same way again"

Leon raised an eyebrow in bemusement.

"You're revolted at mouldy coffee, yet you happily blow the brains out of a decomposing, walking corpse?"

"I don't know" she said, shrugging "I guess there's a difference"

Claire grinned.

"No shit" she said, poking around one of the old and extremely dead photocopiers.

"HEY!"

They all turned, to see Luke waving at them from the open doorway to the next room.

"I think I found it!"

All of them ran towards him, bundling into the room.

Sure enough, only a few feet from where Luke stood, were two large crates. It probably contained about five days worth of food supplies for the soldiers and their families, but not much for the civilians. There were civilians in the base, but not an enormous amount, and anybody old enough was fighting. Therefore, breeding was encouraged but not to such an extent they'd be impossible to feed.

"That's what we want" Leon said "Come on, we'd better move"

In twos, they carried the food crates to their entrance point, where they hooked them onto the zipwire, where they were hauled back in to the copter.

As they hooked up the last load, Claire turned to Leon.

"Come on, let's get back" she said.

"I'll be along in a minute" Leon said, running back into the office.

"DAMNIT LEON!" he heard Luke yell.

Leon just wanted to make sure he hadn't missed something. His head flicked through the second office. Yes…he ran up to a square object on the ground, and blew the dust off its surface.

Beneath the layer of dust was a label that proudly declared it to be a box of twelve assault rifle clips.

The box had been wedged under a workbench, so he yanked it out.

Then, the room was bathed in an unnatural white light that made Leon squint as he tried to make out its source…the light swept over him, and as he looked, Leon could see a blackened silhouette with roaring, thumping blades hovering outside the windows.

An Umbrella terror squad.

"Not good! NOT GOOD!" he exclaimed, running back towards the smashed windows from where he'd come. There was a deafening shatter of glass, and Leon looked behind to see the minigun of the chopper letting rip, its deafening chatter filling the air as Leon ran, the bullets it fired hammering into the floor just behind Leon.

He saw his own helicopter up ahead.

Leon stopped by the gap, and hurled the box into the chopper.

"WHAT'S GOING ON!" Claire cried.

"TERROR-SQUAD!" Leon yelled back.

"THEN GET ON BOARD!" she replied, indicating with her hand that she wanted him to get into the chopper.

Leon looked towards the light, which was now moving quickly down the building.

"NO TIME!" he yelled, disconnecting the cable himself, allowing it to flop down the side of the helicopter.

"LEON!" Claire cried "PLEASE!"

"I'LL BE OKAY!" he shouted back "I'LL FIND ANOTHER WAY OUT!"

He nodded encouragingly, and ran down the corridor. He could hear the helicopter, their helicopter, hurtle down the side of the building and towards the other end.

Then, Leon felt the world seemingly explode as he ran, a lethal wall of glass exploding outwards behind him as the determined Umbrella chopper fired once more.

He looked up ahead, and tried to consider his options.

Maybe, if he calculated this right…

Leon fired a few bullets into the glass wall up ahead. It shattered under the impact, and within seconds he could see Claire and Jill in the hatch of the helicopter as it hovered close to the building. He felt some sharp pain in his head as he ran against the falling glass.

Almost there…

He picked up the pace, and then in one swift movement, leapt out of the window. He almost hung in mid air, time slowing as he leapt, feet kicking against the air below.

Leon realised he wouldn't make it. Not by a few inches, but by about two feet.

Then, Leon felt a hand grab his, and he suddenly felt as if his arm was about to be torn from its socket as he dangled in the air. He felt dazed, and as he was dragged onto the helicopter, he fell unconscious as the ratta-tat of the minigun on their helicopter fire on the Umbrella chopper…and that was all he heard before he passed out, gunfire perforating his thoughts as he fell into a deep sleep.

END OF PART ONE

Authors Note: This is a return to my roots, I felt an action adventure coming on and now I'm writing it, as well as my other romances involving Chris & Jill!

Hope you like it!

-Mark 'Manix' Odell