Darkness Arises: Reborn

By Metal Harbinger

Author's Note: Alright, here is the second half of what was originally Ch. 4 in the original. I finally got it done and am very please with the way this chapter turned out, especially that I've added some new elements. Now, on with the story!

Chapter 6: Things Go Boom in the Night

"Damn it Jake, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?"

Jake sat at the very back of the police van, for once questioning his own motives for getting involved in this mission. This was supposed to be a simple assassination, he had told himself. Not to sound like he was brooding over his decision or anything, but he seriously thought all he would have to do is track down some lone scientist and take him out. It should have been as simple as that, but unfortunately fate had something else in mind.

He now had to curse himself for getting too overconfident.

Being the mercenary hitman of his caliber, naturally he had found himself in high demand within the criminal underworld. He had been recruited to eliminate high-level targets ranging from rival mob bosses to unrelenting politicians to snitches who knew too much. So far, he had completed all of his missions with lethal accuracy and always made sure to prepare himself down to the smallest details to ensure that he would never be caught off guard.

Snuffing out a scientist working for a multinational pharmaceutical company was something new to him, but he always liked a challenge and the money he was promised in the end had suggested this individual was of general significance to the Umbrella Corporation. However, he had not expected to find himself thrust into the middle of an invasion of the undead.

Fighting the reanimated corpses of ordinary citizens was a new story altogether for him. Sure he had managed to handle himself very well so far, crediting his rudimentary knowledge from what he had seen in horror movies. He had to remind himself that these monsters could feel no pain and would keep coming until he was able to find some way to incapacitate them for good. The only way he could think of right now was to sever their brain stem, which could be done either through a simple head shot, or decapitating them entirely. Judging by what he had just witnessed back at the canal, complete immolation was another possible solution.

If killing them wasn't an option, they could be easily outsmarted and were slow enough to dodge with ease. They were dangerous in large packs and if left alone would only be a matter of time before he would become exhausted, and if he could not find shelter immediately, they would overwhelm and systematically devour him.

The odds were stacked against him a million to one, but that's exactly how Jake Cavanaugh liked it. He was at his most dangerous when his back was pinned against the wall. Knowing of the elevated risks seemed to sharpen his skills and make him focus to the top of his game to help him prevail in the end.

All he knew for sure right now was that whoever the bastard was who put him up to this had better pay him the ten million dollars up front and in full, or else he would kill the man where he stood. If this mysterious benefactor was sincere with his offer, then Jake would have to find some way to make sure all that money he was putting his life on the line for would be worth it in the end. He highly doubted he would retire afterwards like most people. The urge for battle and adventure still burned brightly within the young man and he would die fighting if he had to.

Jake let out a heavy sigh and looked around the van's cramped quarters to take in his surroundings. This was not the first time he had been in the back of a police van, but this time he actually wanted to be in one. The last time he had been in a van like this, he was being transported to the Almondville Correctional Institution. This time around, the van was actually meant to protect him and the others as they were being guided through the dangerous streets and taken to the police station for further protection.

Like his last time riding in the back of a police van, the atmosphere was relatively quiet, broken only by coughs and small whispers. Back then the inmates had been instructed by the guards that there was to be absolutely no communication amongst themselves. This time the silence was voluntary as it appeared that all of the people present had a lot to think about. They probably pondered whether or not they would make it out of this situation alive and possibly contemplated what they would do afterwards, also thinking about family, friends, co-workers and other loved ones they had outside the city and if they would ever see them again or not.

Sitting at the very back of the van near the doors he was seated next to George, who had attempted to start up a small conversation with him. Unfortunately he didn't have much to say in return, other than largely repeating a lot of the cover story he had devised for himself of being a Marine who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The good doctor in turn didn't have much to say either, aside from telling a little more about his job and his ex-wife. He had gone into detail telling how they had gradually drifted apart from one another, largely because of his high-demand job and how he had been angry with her for a long time after she dropped the bombshell upon him that she had wanted a divorce. Recently though, the developing situation had forced him to rethink his feelings towards her and hope that she was alright.

Jake could feel pity for the man, but tried to keep the conversation as brief as possible. He felt there was no point in getting attached or further acquainted with any of them because he would possibly grieve for them and vice versa. Besides, he was here to do a job, not make new friends.

George had since turned his attention towards Mark, who had also attempted to further converse with the hitman when he talked further of supposedly being a Marine. In all honesty, Jake didn't know much about the daily doings of the Armed Forces and tried to avoid the subject for fear of being discovered. Instead, the conversation had gradually turned to how the security guard had first become acquainted with his long-time friend Bob while serving in Vietnam and how they fought side by side in several battles. It truly was a shame in his opinion how the plucky old man had survived so much horror, only to be done in by some mysterious virus in the end.

Cindy sat next to Mark, still quietly whimpering to herself. The blood of Jake's most recent kill had begun to dry on her uniform. At her feet lay the makeshift spear, its once glimmering blade now coated in the blood. Her sudden transformation had left many feeling concerned for her well-being. Gone was the bright and sunny waitress who had done so much to lift the spirits of her terrified companions, now a broken woman whose psyche had fallen to the madness around her.

The hitman could only hope to himself that he hadn't contributed to her current state after killing that zombie just inches away from her face. She was a civilian and therefore was nowhere near as desensitized to death as he was.

David sat next to the waitress and also refrained from getting better acquainted with the other survivors, as did Yoko sitting next to him. On her behalf though, it seemed more out of fright that kept her from socializing.

In between the benches, Kevin stood leaning over the partition that separated the front seats from the back area where everybody else was seated, engrossed in a conversation with Dorian and the driver, a riot officer referred to as Tyson. At the same time, he was avoiding trying to accidentally step on both of the survivors from the streets, who now gave their names as Ralph and Phil. Both men remained silent and would only look up to give blank, death-like stares, bringing about great concern from the others.

Across from him, the other bench was crammed to the point where the other survivors were bumping each other with every movement of their arms and legs.

Alyssa was wedged into a corner and nearly had her legs crushed by Ralph's form. He could tell by the look on her face that she definitely did not like this position and wanted to shout at everybody else, but for the fact that they had all just been through Hell and back she chose not to.

Jim sat right next to her, again clutching his lucky coin and muttering some kind of gibberish to himself about how he hoped it would truly help him survive this madness. It was something he truly found pathetic and for once began to question if it was a good thing that they allowed him to ride along.

Eric and Miranda were at the very end seated right across from him. Aside from Kevin and the other officers, they seemed to be the only ones attempting to socialize in hushed whispers. To the hired gun, they were probably chatting about things that he frankly didn't care much about.

Although just looking at them still made him think. There were times when he often would ponder what his life would possibly be like had he not become a professional hitman. He imagined that right now at his age he probably would have just been getting out of college and probably in a steady relationship with a pleasant young woman. Right now, he was too far gone and if he wanted anything close to a normal life he would probably have to fake his own death and assume an entirely new identity.

"Easier said than done," he thought to himself. With his intimidating appearance and conspicuous tattoos, he knew it would be extremely hard to do so.

Jake turned towards the front of the sitting area, where Kevin still conversed with the two officers up front. He was interested in their conversation and had to strain his ears to listen. Fortunately, there wasn't much noise to distract him.

"…The highways are too dangerous for us to travel on, so we'll have to rely on the side streets to get around to the station," one of the men spoke, whose voice he recognized as Dorian's.

He felt the vibration beneath him slow and saw some smoke through the front window, suggesting the driver may have been swerving to avoid a car wreck or something. The van suddenly picked up speed and a few people gasped at the sudden movement.

"Probably more zombies making their bothersome presence felt," the hitman thought as he took the time to reload both Berettas. What he wouldn't do to have his other weapons right now. For now, he would just have to make due with what he had. "I'll have to get back there one way or another."

Several minutes later, the van rounded a corner and skidded to a halt.

"Damn it, another road block!" Dorian grunted in disgust.

"What are we going to do?" Kevin asked, "We need to get these people to the station and we need to get over there to help out Elliott and the others."

Tyson picked up the transceiver and spoke, "Main St. Barricade, this is Transport Unit 4! What is your current status?"

Gunshots and moans sounded from the other end before an agitated cop spoke up.

"This is Adler," the cop named Elliott shouted, "We're in serious trouble right now. It's down to myself, Nordstrom and Muntz, that's it! We're still trying to get the explosives prepped, but we don't know how much longer the barricade behind us is going to last. We need backup right now!"

Kevin looked at both his colleagues and then back to the survivors. "Those guys need our help, but we can't just leave these people here!"

"We might have no other choice," Dorian replied, shifting his gaze back and forth between Kevin and Tyson. "We might have to park the van here for the time being and send some people on foot to help them."

"We're on Stanton St. right now," Tyson added, "that means we're not too far away from Main St. We might be able to send some people over on foot."

"But who will that be?" Kevin asked again, "I'd be willing to go, but we're still going to need some people here to guard the survivors."

Dorian peered over his colleague's shoulder and looked to the survivors, some of whom carried weapons and some of whom looked experienced enough to be of use. "You might just be looking at your backup right now," he whispered.

The younger officer looked back to his fellow survivors. So far he had managed to fight his way out of J's Bar and survive the streets of Raccoon thanks to their assistance, maybe they could be of assistance in this scenario.

Tyson seemed to agree with Dorian and again spoke into the transceiver, "Hang tight Adler, we're sending help right away."

Dorian again peered over Kevin and spoke to the survivors, "As you can see, there are plenty of road blocks all over the streets. If you want to go any farther, you're going to have to proceed by foot." This news brought anguished groans from several occupants.

"Don't worry about it, we appreciate all the help we can get," Kevin said grabbing his shotgun and turning to address the others. "There's going to be a slight change of plans. Those officers on Main St. desperately need backup right now and I'm going to help them. Any of you are welcome to join me."

"I'm in," Mark said, quickly offering his services.

"I've got nothing better to do," David spoke up, "might as well join in on some of the fun while it's still there."

"Count me in," George added. A few looked at him warily for suddenly volunteering, but Kevin seemed to trust him and nodded in approval.

"I'm going too," Alyssa butted in, "you will need all the help you can get."

"As long as you're not just looking for a story, then feel free to join," Kevin replied looking to the others.

"Hey asshole, I'm not as defenseless as I look," the reporter seethed, waving her newly acquired handgun to emphasize her point.

"Let her come along," Jake said rising to her defense, "I'm coming too. I'm up for popping a few more heads with the shit all those rotting fucks have been giving us all night long."

"Alright, I think we've got enough people then," Kevin reported, only to be met by Eric.

"I want to help too," the college student said, rising to his feet and proudly displaying his shotgun.

"You better stay behind," Kevin said, "Dorian and Tyson need help guarding the others and I'm sure they'll want some serious firepower here too."

Eric looked stunned by the news, especially after all the help he had given them while fighting to get here. He then looked over to Miranda, who stared fearfully like she truly cared for his safety. Grunting in defeat, he finally spoke up.

"Oh alright, I'll stay here then," he replied grudgingly, "Just come back in one piece though!"

"The rest of you, stay here and obey Officers Grassley and Michaels instructions," Kevin ordered, walking to the doors. Placing an ear to the doors, he listened intently for any sinister sounds. When the coast appeared to be clear, he nodded to Dorian and slowly pushed the door open.

Nothing appeared to be amiss as the young officer jumped to the tarmac and quickly spun around with his weapon drawn. They were situated between some old tenement buildings and he kept a close eye on some shadowy areas, ready for any unseen attackers. When nothing happened, he motioned for the others to follow.

Jake and Mark were the first to step out, both splitting up and checking both sides of the van with weapons drawn. The hired gun saw a stairwell to his right and remained focused for any threats.

David and George soon followed, the latter looking visibly nervous, but they could sense the determination within. Alyssa then followed close behind and soon, the others would gradually pile out and stretch their limbs after a long, bumpy ride.

"God I don't wanna sit around like this," Jim whined, shaking nervously, "It's too damn scary!"

"Sorry Jim, but we don't have any other choice," Kevin replied, waiting for Dorian as he came from the front and then climbed into the back to unlock the built-in weapons cabinet.

"You're going to need to get stocked up if you're going to proceed any further," the older officer spoke, withdrawing a SPAS-12 assault shotgun and handing it to David, along with some shells and additional magazines for his empty handgun.

It was then time to distribute the rest of the ammo to the others. Kevin was up first, gathering two additional clips for his .45 and more shells for his shotgun. George was next, being given a handgun and three spare clips for it. He gave his makeshift flamethrower to Miranda before moving on. Mark's turn came and he scooped up two additional clips for his gun and more shells for his already emptied shotgun. Alyssa was then up and grabbed a few more clips for her handgun, and for the first time revealed she had been carrying a stun gun the whole time. It was doubtful a zombie could be immobilized by such a weapon.

Jake was the last and gathered additional clips for his Berettas, knowing it was all he needed for now. So far he had not needed to use the S&W revolver, wanting to save the powerful weapon for any tougher enemies, if they even existed. He also didn't want to get too stocked up on other weapons, knowing he had more of his own back at the Apple Inn. No matter what the circumstances were, he was still determined to get back there one way or another.

There wasn't much left for those who would be staying behind, aside from a few clips that were given to Miranda and another gun, which was given to Jim.

"Make sure you know which way to point that gun, kid," Mark chuckled, giving the subway worker a hearty pat on the back.

Jake again shook his head at Jim. Frankly he didn't know what was scarier, a bunch of mindless, bloodthirsty zombies, or a jumpy coward with a gun. For once he almost felt bad for him, thinking that he was only a greater danger to himself. It was weak stomached people like him who would get knocked back by the recoil and possibly take out one of his own companions, or fire wildly and waste bullets period. Plus, he would probably feel pangs of guilt for killing a zombie that was out to kill him for no apparent reason. If all else failed, he would probably put the gun to his own head rather than try to figure some way out of the whole mess.

The hitman took one last look around at the survivors who would be staying behind. All of them stuck close to the parked van, ready to bolt the second their safety would be compromised. The riot officer Tyson stuck close to the opened driver's side door with an MP-5 submachine gun in hand, visibly shaking as he looked around nervously. Eric and Miranda both stood at the back near the opened doors, both walking around cautiously and nervously watching the many shadows for possible threats. Cindy sat on the rear bumper, appearing to be a little more alert and talkative, much to everybody's relief. Jim and Phil both remained in the back of the van, the latter of whom had collapsed into a fetal position.

"Oh god, I'm next on the menu…why must my life end like this?" the man trailed off, struggling to hold back tears.

Ralph meanwhile was standing near the steps, engaged in a heated argument with Dorian.

"How can you do this to us?" the bearded man shouted, "You're the police! You're supposed to be protecting us! Now you're expecting people to move through these streets on foot? It's suicide, and I refuse to move any more!" he roared, getting into the officer's face.

"Sir you need to calm down," Dorian replied, raising his hands protectively, "we have colleagues who desperately need help out here and they must be helped if we wish to progress any further! Now please settle down and join the others. You have our sworn word that we are doing everything in our power to protect you."

Eric and Miranda were able to sense the volatility of the situation and slowly approached the man from behind, whispering into his ears and doing whatever they could to calm him before leading him back to the van.

With Ralph dealt with, Dorian turned to face the departing party. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you more. Right now, you're better off on your own and should try to find some way past this mess." He then addressed his fellow officer, "Kevin, do whatever you can to help those guys. We're counting on you."

Kevin nodded solemnly and looked back to those who would be accompanying him and then up the flight of stairs. The moans of zombies lingered in the distance, sounding like some seriously messed up cult chanting that made his blood chill. He was scared of what he would possibly encounter, but knew he had to keep moving for the sake of his colleagues.

"Alright, let's get rockin'. We don't have much time left!" he said and proceeded to climb the stairs with Mark at his side.

"Man piggy, I sure hope you know what you're doing," Jake thought to himself when his time came to climb the stairs. Two group moved in a two-by-two formation with Kevin and Mark at the front, Alyssa and George in the middle and David and the hitman bringing up the rear.

The "unit" moved shoulder-to-shoulder at a careful pace, focused on the windows at their sides, some of which had been left open in haste and could still have threats lurking behind them. It was when they reached halfway through the alley that Mark motioned for everybody to stop.

"Hey what gives?" Alyssa called out and stood on her tiptoes trying to see over the bulky guard's shoulders.

"Look!" he whispered to Kevin, pointing at something in front of him.

Jake knelt down and tried to see around the people in front of him for what the guard was pointing at.

"Yeah, it's a gun!" Alyssa said, "We know what it is, it's not like we haven't seen one before. Now we need to get going! Please!"

"Hold on a minute," the guard spoke, raising his shotgun and cautiously approaching the windowsill, where a Magnum revolver lay abandoned. Kevin followed closely behind and the two men focused their weapons on the opened window, careful to make sure nothing would leap out after them. Keeping his eyes focused on the blackness before him the entire time, Mark scooped up the powerful gun and leapt backwards like he expected some bony hands to reach out after him.

"Looks to be in good condition," he said carefully examining the weapon before inspecting its cylinder, "and it's loaded too. Whoever left it there must've been in a huge hurry to leave something like this baby behind."

"You said it," Kevin said checking the weapon over before handing it back to the guard.

"Okay, can we please get moving now?" Alyssa irritably groaned, looking nervously to the windows around her.

The sextet soldiered forth down the alley, feeling as if they were charging straight into the mouth of Hell itself as the undead groans grew louder. Coming to the alley's end, they found themselves on a footbridge overlooking Main Street itself and everybody else came to a complete stop.

"What's going on?" Jake asked aloud, but was quickly silenced as he saw the carnage for himself. "This is bad!"

"Oh…god," was all Kevin could muster as the air drained from his lungs.

"Oh the smell…that's an odor I never wanted to experience again," Mark spoke, shutting his eyes to block out the sight.

"Oh no…no," Alyssa spoke with a quiver, "the city must be gone…"

"What a mess," David rasped, speaking for the first time in quite a while.

"Dear lord…what happened to everyone," was all George could offer.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry Muntz was officially the most frightened he had ever been in his entire life. Instead of being home in the safety of his bed, here he was on Main Street, being approached by what appeared to be hundreds if not thousands of mindless zombies. All he could see was a horrible death staring him in the face as the cadavers stood wall to wall, held back by a pitiful barricade of mounted fences attached to a concrete base. Once the base broke, he would be swarmed and ripped into tiny strips.

This was literally a nightmare come true for the young officer and he could barely function as he held the Beretta 9mm in front of him with shaky hands. He wanted to pull the trigger and put one of those monsters out of its misery, but their ungodly moans kept frightening him beyond comprehension whenever he would get the urge to perform a seemingly simple function.

"Heavenly father, what did I ever do to deserve this?" he thought to himself, trying his best not to stare any of those freaks directly into their cold, soulless eyes. Doing so would only take him back to last night and that incident outside the Raccoon City Zoo's front gate, where he was attacked by what he believed to be a coked up junkie that had been scaring the patrons and bit one of the zookeepers. All he could remember were the guy's glossed over eyes as he was tackled to the ground and just inches away from having his throat bitten into. Had it not been for an expertly placed shot to the back of the man's cranium, courtesy of Elliott, he would surely be dead.

Now here he was confronted by hundreds of them, all just like his attacker. He could now tell the man certainly wasn't on drugs, it was like he was already dead.

"This shouldn't be…I shouldn't even be out here!" the officer thought. He was supposed to be a simple desk officer assigned to shuffling through daily paperwork or getting coffee for his superiors. Sure they had been boring tasks before, but now he desperately missed them. Harry Muntz had wanted some action in his dull daily existence, but this was asking for way too much.

Next to him his colleagues Elliott Adler and Eric Nordstrom worked frantically, Elliott firing at the zombies as they pushed against the barricade and Eric down on his knees, hurriedly wiring the detonator for setting off the explosive charges.

Indeed Elliott and Eric were considered to be two of the department's finest. At first he thought he would feel safe by their side, but now he was seriously questioning not only his own aptitude, but theirs as well. Eric had been a demolitions specialist, but the breakneck pace at which he was forced to work, along with Elliott's constant barking of orders and the constant screeching of metal, seriously flustered him and made him forget things.

Elliott fired a round into one of the zombies and killed it immediately; leaving its corpse to be flung around by its "colleagues" before it finally slumped over the railing. He fired two more random shots into the crowd, but failed to kill any this time.

"Eric, what's taking so long? Hurry up!" he barked, forced to load the final remaining clip into his gun.

Again distracted by his colleague's outburst, he could only grunt in reply. "I'm trying! I'm almost done, just a few more seconds!"

Harry stood off to the side, still too frightened to fire his gun. He was not trained to deal with this kind of situation and neither were any other members of the department staff. Then again, he was surprised he was even here in the first place after having performed poorly in the academy. It was only because of his familial connection to Mayor Michael Warren that he had gotten this job.

It was a loud crash against the gate that had finally snapped the officer out of his thoughts, committed by a zombie that had somehow managed to climb on top of its companions and be passed forward, only to stumble and break its jaw on the barricade. He could only let out a startled yelp as the section of fencing was nearly knocked over.

"Ahhh! Hurry! Hurry this way! Quick!" the tubby officer barked, expecting the worst. Somehow he had finally found the strength to pull the trigger, but his own hysteria had left him unable to accurately take aim. His bullets had found themselves embedded within the torso of a zombie up front, who still thrashed away wildly.

"Shit, hurry up!" Elliott shouted again, firing more rounds into the crowd.

"Hold on," Eric cried twisting some more wires together, "Okay it's done!" The detonator was finally set up and ready to go, but at a great cost.

CCCCCCRRRRRRRAAAAAAASSSSSSSHHHHHHH!!!!

A whining screech of metal strained the officers' ears as the zombies had finally knocked down the barricades and were now piling over each other, anxious for their next meal.

"Eric, watch out!" Elliott cried, but it was too late.

Eric looked up from his work to find an entire wave of zombies hovering over him ready to strike. It was the last thing he would ever see.

"Get away from him!" Elliott cried raising his gun, but his partner had been completely swarmed and more snarling attackers were already onto him. Before he could squeeze off a single round, several zombies had already tackled him to the ground and began biting into him.

"Oh just great…" Harry whined, finding himself backed against a wall. Elliott and Eric were dead and now he was all alone. He grew pale and struggled to cry out for help as the zombies had turned their attention away from his dead comrades and now focused on him.

"What should I do?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kevin's blood began to boil at the sight of his own colleagues being slaughtered, but yet he managed to contain himself. "Come on! We have to help him!" he shouted, bounding quickly down the stairs with his shotgun drawn.

"Wait up!" Mark cried chasing after him with shotgun drawn, followed closely by the others.

Jake rushed from the end of the group, ready to blow away any zombie that ventured into his crosshairs. This was a fight he was ready for, both physically and mentally.

Reaching the street below, Kevin would immediately run over to his frightened co-worker. "Harry!"

"Kevin!" the officer shouted back. He was now pinned against the nearby fence and felt like he was about to faint, until his fellow officer's voice snapped him out of his trance.

"K-Kevin, thank God you're still alive! Look, you've gotta help me here. We were trying to detonate the explosives the S.W.A.T. team set up underground, but those things broke through! They killed Elliott and Eric! I would fight them myself, but…oh god, I just don't have it in me!" the man whined nearly breaking into sobs, "Listen, you've got to get the pieces of the detonator together. They should be scattered somewhere here on the street. Once you get them assembled, you'll have to get over to the rig kit by Eric's body."

"Alright, we'll do what we can, just stay back!" Kevin ordered with a pump of his shotgun.

"Please, just get these freaks cleared out!" Harry shouted from behind.

The group turned to face the zombie threat head on. For now, most of them had stood around dumbly, swaying back and forth with their heads down, but there were a select few who had picked up the scent of the still living humans and began to charge forward.

Wasting no time, Kevin fired a shell into the face of a zombie that had lurched toward him. Another stood close by and the officer brought his elbow up to knock the monster flat onto its back. Once it had fallen, he brought his foot down and repeatedly stomped its head in until its bones gave way beneath his boot. His adrenaline was pumping after seeing two of his colleagues savagely murdered right before his very eyes. He was out to punish as many of these freaks as he could.

"Chew on this, fuckers!" the officer shouted, giving one zombie yet another hole in its head and then blasting a female's head clean off. He let out a mighty roar, firing shell after shell into the crowd of undead, unleashing frustration that had been pent up all night long.

Mark and George stood with their backs to each other, firing round after round into any zombie that came within a five foot radius of them. Their main objective for now was to carve a path through the crowd so one of them could reach the rig kit.

One of the zombies had tried to sneak up on the doctor for a quick bite, but George spotted him and with some extra energy, tackled the monstrosity to the ground and planted his foot on its chest. "Let this be your funeral, monster!" and with those words, fired a round point blank into the zombie's face.

David ran alongside the duo and fired his gun repeatedly into the approaching zombies, dropping three in rapid succession. He continued firing until his clip ran out, only to find another just inches away from him. With no time to reach for his folding knife, he pulled out another lug wrench and tossed it into the zombie's face, knocking it to the ground and destroying one of its eyes. Delivering a swift kick to its neck, the zombie was nearly decapitated.

"Eat that you undead bastard," the plumber thought to himself.

Alyssa had already managed to drop several of the zombies with carefully placed potshots. "That's right, keep coming to me you fucking freaks. Looks like all that time I spent at the shooting range is paying off tonight."

Yet another zombie fell to the pavement with a smoking crater left in its forehead. Jake had both his guns drawn and looked down upon the fresh corpses he had just laid out. He stood over them looking completely badass and showing no remorse, almost as if he was the Angel of Death himself. Deep down, he may have felt sorry for these things at one point, but now they were beyond reason and were just obstacles that stood in the way of his mission success.

A loud moan sounded from behind him and he turned to find another zombie rising to its feet, ready to strike at the first thing it saw. A frown forming on his face, the hitman withdrew his combat knife and stabbed it directly through the monster's eye.

"Go to Hell!" he grumbled at the fresh corpse. Looking beyond the multitude of dead bodies, his eyes lit up as he spotted a green cylindrical object of great importance.

"The detonator's main unit!" he mentally shouted to himself.

Swiping the object up, he saw Kevin standing near the rig kit and was about to approach him.

BLAM!!!

A shotgun blast went off behind Jake and he turned to find a zombie collapsing to the pavement missing half of its skull. He saw Eric Sampson standing before him with his feet planted firmly on the ground, staring down the remaining zombies with pure hatred and determination.

"Eric, what the hell are you doing here?" the career criminal said getting in his face, "You were supposed to stay back at the van and help guard the others!

"I know, but I heard the big firefight and I just couldn't sit around waiting anymore!" the college student shouted back, firing a round of buckshot into the face of a dark-haired zombie in a bomber jacket. "These bastards are destroying a beautiful city I've grown to love. I'm not going down without a little payback."

"Keep pulling shit like this and you will be going down!" Jake shouted back, firing a blast into the face of what had once been a punk rocker with a purple Mohawk and black leather outfit.

Eric only offered a slight nod and continued firing away, "Alright you heartless fucking bastards!" he growled while pumping his shotgun, "You freaks have already caused too much pain and sorrow and tonight, I'm going to send as many of you worthless pieces of shit back to the grave as I can!"

With his words of rage, the college student fired another round that completely decapitated one zombie and then pumped his gun, firing into another's torso. The brutal shot disemboweled the walking cadaver, but its upper half still crawled after him, letting out more primordial groans.

"Shut up and die!!!" Eric roared, bringing his foot down and smashing the zombie's skull into the pavement. He quickly had to slow down as he could feel his rage getting the better of him, knowing he would leave a weak spot open if he became too angry. Yet another zombie trudged towards him with arms extended.

"Not tonight…" he replied in a calmer manner, blasting its brains clear across the pavement. Unbeknownst to him, both he and Jake had gradually moved over to the west side of the street as they battled the living dead. An officer's corpse rested against a street light not too far from him and through all the surrounding debris, he spotted something that was crucial to stopping these monsters.

"Is that the detonator handle?" Eric shouted over to Jake, who had just finished dropping two more zombies staggering towards him.

"Crap, it is!" the hitman shouted back and reached into his pocket for the detonator's main unit, "Quick, give it to me!" he ordered.

Quickly scooping it up, he tossed it over to Jake, who then attached it to the main unit.

Turning around, the hired gun noticed that Kevin had made it over to the rig kit. The officer blasted away at the remaining zombies who immediately surrounded him. There were seemingly thousands more ahead of him, but appeared to be confident they still had time to detonate the explosives. He turned to see his dark-clad companion approaching him.

"Kevin, think fast!" Jake shouted and tossed the completed detonator unit to the officer.

The officer wasted no time in connecting the detonator to the rig kit and saw that another wave of the undead was getting dangerously close. "Somebody cover me! I'm going to blow these fuckers to Hell!"

Jake, Mark, David, George, Alyssa and Eric all ran up behind Kevin and began laying waste to the approaching zombies as Kevin struggled to connect the detonator to the rig kit. A loud click signaled that he was ready.

"Get ready, here goes nothing!" he shouted to the others, turning the lever.

An ominous roar sounded from below, muting out the symphony of undead groans, and within seconds the tension was broken by a loud explosion that obliterated most of the zombies within its radius. That was not the last. A chain reaction of large explosions occurred back to back, moving down the street toward the toppled barricades, sending charred limbs, entire bodies and cars flying in all directions. Pieces of concrete smacked through glass and crushed several unfortunate souls whole and an endless stream of flames swallowed anything that stood before them. The explosions were of biblical proportions and the final explosion would create a large mushroom cloud those rose high into the nighttime sky.

"Damn…" Jake muttered as he rubbed his sore ears after the stream of explosions. Everyone else remained silent around him, clearly entranced by the large wall of fire shining brightly before them.

All of Main Street had been decimated in the blasts, leaving only a line of craters in its place. Pavement had been forced upward, creating several walls that would be impossible to climb over, as evidenced when a moan broke through the crackle of flames.

A lone zombie had somehow managed to survive the blasts and struggled to climb over the wall, its blackened skin literally tearing under its effort and several burning embers still rapidly eating away at its form. Eventually, it proved to be too much for the zombie and it fell back into the smoldering crater, left to a fiery death.

The smell of burning flesh wafted in the air, surprisingly with nobody gagging in response. As the smoke began to clear, the criminal could now make out the splattered forms of some of the zombies who had been thrown by the blasts, their bodies still clinging to the outer exteriors of the buildings.

"Dispatch, this is Ryman," Kevin said into his radio, "The explosives on Main Street have been detonated. Repeat, the explosives have been detonated and we are awaiting further instructions."

"Copy that Ryman," the dispatcher replied, "We're sending help right away."

Both the officer and Alyssa stood rooted to their spots, still staring passively at the flames as police sirens sounded in the distance.

Behind them, Mark could be seen checking up on the still dazed Officer Muntz, who had quickly ran over to vomit in the nearest available trashcan. David had found a discarded iron pipe and again pulled out his roll of vinyl tape, along with the concrete piece he had found back at the shantytown, going about crafting another crude weapon. Dorian by now had caught up to Eric and was in the middle of harshly reprimanding the college student for his insubordination, who had little in the way of a valid excuse for his actions. George meanwhile collapsed against the fence Harry had been near, engaging in a quiet conversation with Mark.

"Is it over?" Alyssa asked, a look of concern etched across her usually astute features.

Jake looked at her without speaking and studied her closely. He could tell by her facial expressions that she was uncertain in her claim, as were those of the others present.

This had only been a small victory in a brewing war and could only tell himself that this was only the beginning. He stared silently into the jet black sky and then looked down to the others with foreboding certainty.

"No…this is only the beginning…" he spoke, not even bothering to sugarcoat details and boost the morale of his companions. He told it like it was, blunt and to the point. With a scary, yet determined gaze he looked to all of the other survivors and took a seat on the nearby steps.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Several squad cars and another police van congested what was left of Main Street. Parked behind them were an ambulance, an RCNN news van and what almost looked like an RV, but proudly bore the logo of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, or C.D.C. for short.

Several white-clad researchers milled about and the officers did everything they could to assist them, including unloading equipment from their mobile laboratory.

At this point the underground fires had been extinguished thanks to the R.F.D. choppers flying overhead. Smoke still billowed in the air, forcing many to cover their faces to avoid inhalation and some to move with their hands in front of them so they could carefully navigate the crowded area.

In front of the nearest crater stood a gray-suited anchor from RCNN and his cameraman, filming their latest report. An RCNN news chopper also flew overhead, illuminating much of the area with its searchlight.

Dorian was in the process of being interviewed, nobody else seeming to pay attention. Jake stood on the footbridge overlooking Main Street and although most of the officer's interview was broken up by sounds of radio chatter and officers shouting orders to each other, he did manage to catch tidbits, including the whole "stay inside and lock your doors" spiel.

David and Eric had since retreated back to the waiting police van over on Stanton St., but the others still lingered about.

Alyssa had now pulled out her notepad and was in the middle of taking statements from one of the researchers and an officer.

George was in the back of the ambulance with two paramedics treating a wounded officer, who had been accidentally shot while reinforcing another barricade. Mark was nearby, hauling another officer over who had a nasty gash along the left side of his head.

Kevin stood directly beneath him chatting with three other officers, all of whom appeared equally battle worn with their uniforms covered in black grime and blood of their previous kills.

"Heck of a job Ryman," said a tall, pale-skinned officer with dark brown hair cropped closely to his head, offering his colleague a hearty pat on the shoulder. "You sure did well on this one."

"Thanks Aaron, I had to do what I could to get those people to safety and what I could to get those explosives detonated," Kevin said gesturing to the smoking craters behind him.

"Yeah, I just wish Elliott and Eric could've made it through," a dark-haired officer spoke, watching ruefully as workers from the coroner's office zipped shut the body bags holding Officers Adler and Nordstrom, prepping them to be loaded into the back of a black van that had just arrived.

"We all do Jean, believe me," Aaron replied, quietly bowing his head in remembrance of his fallen comrades.

"We lost too many good officers tonight," spoke the third officer, a man close to Kevin's height with short brown hair.

"We tried to help them Fred," Kevin spoke from the back, wary that his colleague would probably blame him for his friends' deaths. "Believe me, we tried, but there were too many of those freaks. Nobody could have known this would happen."

"None of us did," Aaron said as he carefully stared down a dead zombie wearing a bloody hooded sweatshirt and camouflage pants, one that had been shot dead by Jake.

"How's Harry holding up?" Kevin asked as he looked back to the police van he had seen his co-worker lead over to after the blasts.

"Beside himself," Jean replied, "he's taking it pretty hard. He blames himself for being unable to help Elliot and Eric, can't say that I blame him for feeling that way though. He may have been a bungling goof, but still, nobody needs that on their conscience."

"I know it's tough, but right now we have to focus on surviving and save as many of these people as we can," Kevin spoke with fierce doggedness, thinking of the people he had been struggling to lead to safety.

"Amen to that," Aaron spoke up and again placed his hand on Kevin's shoulder, "Hey listen, Fred and I have to get back to the station right away. We'll talk to you later man."

"Sure thing," Kevin replied as his friend walked away from him. Fred followed him close behind, but stopped and turned around to address him one last time.

"Kevin, you do whatever you can to get those people to safety," he spoke firmly, in a tone bordering on aggression. He then turned on his heel and marched after his departing colleague.

"You can count on it," Kevin said back. He knew the man couldn't hear him, but still he had to say those words so he could depart with a strong resolve. Dorian had now returned from his interview and signaled that he was ready to move.

"I'm needed over at the First National Bank. I'll talk to you later and until then take care," Jean spoke and shook hands with his friend one last time.

"I will," Kevin replied, returning the handshake.

Deciding he had seen enough, Jake turned around and made his way back to the waiting police van.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Once again Jake found himself in the back of the police van, exhausted by his recent ordeal and struggling to keep himself awake. He looked around to see most of the other survivors had either fallen asleep or sat quietly in deep thought. They might have been victorious over these rotting freaks tonight, but he himself still had a mission to complete and another paycheck to acquire for his hard work.

The van was currently en route to the local police station and he had to plan out how he would escape and complete his mission while avoiding the police and other survivors. At the same time, he had to relax and regain his strength.

"A city where the dead walk? Again I'm forced to ask myself what the hell I've gotten myself into?

"Mercenaries like myself aren't supposed to question the guy writing out the paycheck, but whoever this schmuck is, I'm almost wanting to track him down and rip his still beating heart out of his chest for putting me into this mess, but his time will eventually come.

"For now, I'm going to focus on this Birkin scum."

Slowly, he tilted his head back against the wall and felt his eyelids closing.

Author's Note: Alright this note is going to include spoilers for those who haven't played the Outbreak games. To tell the truth, I haven't played "Outbreak – File 2," but I know who is who thanks to a link another author on this site sent me back when I was working on the original DA. I just want to point this out because of the random faces shown and letting everybody know that the 3 officers Kevin chats with towards the end are not original creations of mine.

Aaron is the officer who rushes towards the camera at the end of the "Outbreak" scenario if you score a good ending. From what I hear, he also appears later on in the "Desperate Times" scenario. Apparently, Kevin views him as his "hero."

Jean is the officer whose corpse you find in the "Underbelly" scenario on Hard and Very Hard modes in File 2, an apparent victim of a suicide. You're also supposed to be able to find a note on his corpse that gives out a code to the desk in the East Office.

Lastly, Fred is another officer you encounter at the R.P.D. in "Desperate Times," I guess he's the guy on the rooftop with a shotgun.

Well that's all for now so until then read and review! This is Metal Harbinger saying SPREAD THE SICKNESS, ONE MIND AT A TIME!