He lay there for a while, waiting as the infected man drug himself closer. Maybe it was his time to die, he thought to himself as he swiped off bits of zombie flesh from his shoulder. He slowly pulled himself up on an empty barrel that cowered next to him. He couldn't keep up this fight much longer. He watched as the infected body came closer, hissing and showing his black blood stained teeth. He started to think about how these monsters use to be people, each with their own jobs, their own lives, and then he imagined what they were like when they were human. Of course, they probably weren't as nice as he thought they were, but still...they were people. The body was too close now, his white eyes beaming with hunger as he went to take a bite of his victim's tender flesh. However, he would not be a victim today. He wasn't ready to die.
"It's not fair," he said softly as he grabbed a screwdriver that was near by and jabbed it in the eye of the infected man.
The undead corpse fell down, twitching violently so that his victim stood above him, screwdriver in hand ready to strike again if the body wasn't fully inactive. He studied the corpse he stood above, imagining meeting him for the first time, before the virus had broken out. The zombie looked kind of like a Roger to him, Roger Smith.
"Hello Roger Smith," he said with tears in his eyes, "my name is Scott Gaelic."
Scott looked around the building he had been sidetracked to. It was an Auto Shop, though not a car was in sight. Looters, Scott knew, had taken every car they could in order to get out of Raccoon City, but Raccoon City had other plans for them. Scott walked around slowly, hoping not to be greeted by an inhuman object that would try to eat him, but he had already scoped the area out and used his last bullets to secure him from the monsters that overtook the city. The sun's last rays entered the shop through a small window. He'd have to make camp in this shop, he figured. It'd be unsafe for him to brave the city at night, without weapons. Scott found an empty metal trash can and searched for the Shop's office. He'd make camp there. He walked into a cage-like office, locking the cage door behind him. He found fax papers and mechanic bills and placed them in the trashcan, where he threw a lighted splint in and started a fire.
"Well, they're not going to need those anymore," he said trying to make himself smile. "I need a gun." He said getting up to look around the office. Then he heard it.
Tap tap tap.
Scott stood still, quickly scanning the room for a weapon he could use against whatever was closing in on him, but the screwdriver was useless if there was more than one creature on it's way to get him. Scott listened carefully for any sign that someone was in there. He felt his heart race as the flame from his fire died out, leaving him in the pitch-black room. Night had come quickly since he had gotten there, and now he found himself stuck in a cage hoping someone would rescue him, however that would never happen. After a few minutes of standing there, Scott reluctantly started a fire again. This time the light from the fire exposed a safe that was hidden behind the desk. Scott looked at it, reluctantly inching his way towards the safe. It was locked, he knew, but he hoped that it wasn't the case.
Tap tap tap.
He heard it again, this time closer. He remembered when a sound like that wouldn't have aroused fear in him, but now his heart would skip a beat when the wind whipped through the trees. Scott prayed under his breath hoping that some miracle would deliver him from Raccoon City, but that wouldn't happen, he knew. He'd have to fight his way out. Scott scanned the boundaries of the light provided by the fire, then he saw the comfort of an axe unsheltered by the cage. Scott inched his way to the entrance of the cage, he was going to get the axe.
Crash.
Scott screamed, pushing himself away from the metal door as he heard the clashing of metals slamming against concrete floor. Scott looked at the axe mocking him from the other side of the cage. He needed to get it before it was too late. His duo sided decision needed to be made, he'd either have to bear watching the blood thirsty undead work it's way into the cage, or he could leave the protection of the cage to get to the axe.
Which way would be wise? He thought. Whatever was out there would make its way into the cage. These undead creatures only knew one thing--flesh and they'd work on getting it no matter what. Scott ran to the cage door undoing the lock in pure panic. He slid and tripped around the cage running to the axe for his protection. Then he saw him. He looked alive to Scott. Barely standing, a police officer drug himself towards Scott, his clothes still intact with minor scratches on his face. Scott watched him carefully as he walked slowly towards him-he wasn't alive, but still, Scott wasn't so sure in the dim light of the fire. He picked up the axe and prepared to make a blow at the man.
"Who are you?" Scott asked, gripping onto the axe ready to make use of it if it were a baseball bat.
The man didn't answer, but instead moaned softly with his head slightly pointed down. Scott knew that the officer was dead and without hesitation he swung the axe, cracking the man across the head so that he hit the ground with a loud plop. Scott stood there; watching the body lay lifeless on the ground he inched towards it making sure it was dead. Then he saw the flashlight and handgun dangling to the side of the holster. Scott held the axe tight still, inching his way forward. He could never be sure with the undead. He was on top of the man now, his hand inches away from his face, when suddenly, the body became animate once again thrusting at Scott, its mouth wide open to devour him. Scott dodged out of its way, and then with one quick blow separated its head from its body. Scott stood there for a moment, his pulse quickening as he watched a puddle of blood form by the neck of the dead body. Gagging, Scott knelt down, undid the holster, and quickly strapped it onto him.
I'm just a bit more secure, he thought as he found a box of bullets in the pockets of the zombie. He looked back into the cage. The fire was almost spent though it burned slower then the last one. Scott walked around the body, watching it suspiciously as he moved. He could never be too sure. Walking back into the cage he locked the door and settled down next to the trashcan wishing he had something to satisfy his empty stomach, but he was content to be alive at that point, and with that he closed his eyes to get a few moments of rest.