Resident Evil and all of it's characters, locations, etc. belong to Capcom.
"I'm dry. What about you?" Kevin asked Mark, the big, black security guard.
"As a bone." He answered. "Ain't a shit shot either. Made everyone of 'em count. Those bastards just wouldn't go down."
"Yeah, tell me about it."
Kevin reflexively checked his clip for the third time in the past five minutes. Still empty.
"So, I'll ask you again, cop."
"Kevin. My name's Kevin."
"Kevin. What's the plan here, Kevin? You're the cop so I was gonna let you take the lead on this thing, but if we stick around here for much longer there may not be a chance to get out later. We gotta move."
Mark looked up at Kevin who remained unmoving against the wall with his arms folded.
"Hey! Wake up!"
"I hear ya! I'm thinking! Gimme a goddamn minute."
"We ain't got a minute!"
Ignoring Mark, Kevin turned to Cindy who was in the fetal position to his left.
"Cindy, you still with us?"
Cindy lifted her eyes to meet his and managed a small nod.
"Does this building have access to the roof?" Kevin asked the frightened waitress.
"Yeah, but you'll need the keys. Jack should have them in his room."
"Jack?"
"The owner? He lives down the end of the hall."
"Right. You mentioned that earlier. He's probably holed up in his room. Smart move. You doing okay?"
"I-I guess. I guess I have to be."
"You're doing fine. Just try and hang on for awhile longer. I'm gonna get us outta here."
"Okay."
Kevin met the girl's gaze for a moment longer, but it appeared she had nothing left to say. Mark was on the other side of the locker room checking on Bob, the short, white security guard. Bob was clutching the towels they'd found for him to the gash in the side of his neck. Kevin was afraid the carotid artery had been severed when the spook had bitten into Bob, but evidently it hadn't, as the man was still alive. His breathing had been labored, but had evened out and he now seemed quite relaxed as he and Mark spoke to each other quietly. Mark patted Bob on the knee softly before rising to join Kevin in the other corner.
"How's he holding up?" Kevin asked.
"He's hanging in there, but for how long I don't know. You figure out a way outta here yet?"
"Well, I know the way, but I haven't figured out how to get there yet."
"What do you mean?"
"You know as well as I do that just because things have quieted down out there doesn't mean it's safe. You saw how many there were. Seven or eight at least. And with the doors and windows wide open, who knows how many more have trickled in."
"What's your point? Yeah, it's a bullshit situation we're in. Me and you go out there and do our best to clear the way to get these people out. The odds ain't good, but they're the only odds we've got."
"As much as an advocate of the gung-ho approach as I am, I think it'd be suicide to go out there now, especially unarmed."
"So, what? We just wait here? Hope somebody shows up? Cindy tried 911 when we were still downstairs. The line's are completely dead. I even tried 'em myself."
"Look, I know nobody's coming. This rioting or whatever is probably city-wide. I'm not saying we sit here and wait anyway."
"Well? What then?"
Kevin's eyes moved from Mark to the wall behind him. Kevin gestured with his head, and Mark turned to face the window that lent a view of the street below.
"The window? Then what? A two story drop?"
"Look, one of us has to stay here. We can't risk something happening to both of us and leaving these people alone. I'll climb outside and maneuver on the ledge. See if I can find an open window into the owner's office and find the keys for the roof."
Mark looked at Kevin blankly.
"'Maneuver the ledge'?"
"Well...yeah."
"You must be outta your goddamn mind. Hope you ain't scared of heights."
"Gee, thanks for the encouragement."
"Alright, look, it ain't a bad idea. It's better than mine, I admit. Only reason I didn't think of it is because I could never see my big ass tip-toeing around the edge of a building two stories up. You got balls, kid."
"Yeah, well, we'll see when I'm actually out there."
Mark laughed to himself, then looked over to Bob, still clutching the bloody towel to his neck.
"You mentioned the owner's office. He lives here, right? Any idea if he's here?"
"By all accounts he should be. But the fact that we haven't heard a noise or anything from him worries me, but keeping quiet is probably the best thing he could do."
"Yeah, well, just be careful."
"I'll try my best. Believe me."
Kevin moved to the window and looked down to the street below. Barren. No movement. Nobody in sight. He flicked the two switches at the bottom of the window frame and attempted to lift the window open, but it wouldn't budge.
"Shit. Gimme a hand, will ya?"
Mark moved to the window and pushed upwards, opening the window with ease without Kevin's help. Kevin scratched the back of his head,embarrassed.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it. And, Christ, be careful."
Kevin nodded and positioned himself to crawl through the window to the ledge on the outside. Before he could, George spoke up behind him.
"So, you're gonna clear the way to the roof? Then what? Jump from rooftop to rooftop? This guy can barely stand! Think he's gonna be able to pull off acrobatics?"
"We'll figure it out when we get there."
"Oh yeah. Good plan."
Kevin moved from the window over to George who was sitting up against a row of lockers. He crouched down to be eye-level with the man and he spoke.
"It may not be the best plan, but it's the best we've got right now. In the meantime, seeing as you're a doctor, why don't you quit whining and get off your ass and try to help this man."
George never met Kevin's gaze and stared down at his lap. Kevin waited for a response, but when he didn't get one, rose to his feet and moved back to the window. He stuck his right leg out onto the narrow ledge, nodded to Mark, and then moved out onto it completely. A cool breeze was blowing as he made his first movements far above the street below. Even though he was only on the second floor, the distance to the street below looked fatal, and at the very least incapacitating. Inching along the ledge, hugging the wall, Kevin slowly approached another window. Carefully crouching down, and looking inside he saw it was an apparent spare locker room turned store room. Not what he was looking for. Inching along further, he came across another window. Just inside, Kevin noticed a stairwell to his right leading upwards. Fully standing, Kevin kicked with all his might, smashing the window pane just above the latch on the other side. Carefully crouching and careful not to cut himself on the broken glass, Kevin reached inside and unlocked the window. Pushing upward on the window frame, the window slid open much easier than the one in the locker room, and Kevin stepped into a stairwell similar to the one they'd come up earlier. There was a door in front of him that he was sure led into the hallway where the mob surely was. The hallway he'd have to brave in order to make to the the owner, Jack's, room. Not to keen on that thought, Kevin opted to ascent the staircase to the third floor. At the top of the stairs was a lone door. As Kevin had suspected and feared, it was locked. He'd have to get those keys.
Kevin went back down the stairs to the door that led into the mob hallway. He stood motionless and listened for anything on the other side. He stood for around a minute but heard nothing outside the door, or anywhere else for that matter. Kevin took a deep breath and put his hand to the doorknob. When he deemed himself mentally prepared, he turned the knob and pushed forward, but was met with only a noisy thud as he bumped into the still locked door. Kevin turned the lock and it clicked loudly, making him tense up at the sound of it. Turning the knob again, he slowly opened the door an inch or two, peering out into the little bit of the hallway he could see. Not seeing anyone or anything, he opened the door a bit more, and a bit more until he was standing the dimly lit hallway. Looking down towards the locker room, he saw them. Three of them hanging around quietly around the door as if on guard. Kevin, as quietly as he could, turned and approached the door at the very end of the hall. The owner's room. Holding his breath, he turned the knob, and thankfully, it slid open smoothly, and he was out of the dim hallway, and into the nearly pitch black bedroom. The little bit of illumination came from a neon Bud Light sign on the wall. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, Kevin realized there was no one in the room with him. Thinking maybe Jack was hiding somewhere out of sight, Kevin spoke in a whisper out into the room.
"Jack? Hey! You there?"
Nothing. Almost relieved, Kevin let out a deep breath. Less one person to worry about. A selfish thought, but an honest one. He moved to a nearby desk, and clicked on the lamp. Opening the drawer, Kevin learned that Jack was awfully unorganized. Frustrated, Kevin finally resorted to pulling out the drawer completely and dumping it out onto the desk. He heard the rattle of keys as he did so, but didn't see them immediately. Thinking he heard another sound under the racket of the junk on the desk, Kevin paused for a moment to listen, but heard nothing. Feeling as if he were being watched, he looked up and scanned the room, before his eyes found a mounted shotgun on the wall.
"Ho-ly shit."
Kevin moved quickly to it and grabbed it down off the mount. Fearing it to be a replica, as soon as he held it in his hands, he knew it wasn't. He opened the barrel, only to find it empty.
"Shit."
Digging through the junk he'd dumped onto the desk, he found a large ring of keys. Finding what he'd come for, Kevin felt an urgency to get back to the others, but something else was tugging at him as well. Surely, there had to be a box of shells here somewhere. Kevin pilfered through the junk again, setting aside old bills, receipts, and batteries, but finding no shells. Holding and rattling the keys in one hand, and leaning on the old shotgun with the other, Kevin scanned the room again and thought. Spying the liquor cabinet next to the door he'd entered in, he had an idea. Opening it, he stood dumbfounded at the quality of some of the booze before him. Breaking him out of his soliloquy, Kevin spotted a tiny cigarbox on the bottom shelf. Opening it, he found half a chewed cigar and five shotgun shells. He loaded two into the shotgun, and shoved the remaining three into his breastpocket. Turning off the lamp, he quietly opened the door and stepped back into the dimly lit hallway. He approached the three figures at the end of the hall. Halfway down the hall, they noticed him. He stopped, raised the gun and spoke.
"I don't know if you understand what I'm saying, but I'll say it anyway, but only once. I'm getting the people inside this room outta here one way or another. Whether you move or not is irrelevant. Now, I'm coming to open the door."
He began inching his way toward the door, still aiming the gun at the three of them. They watched him with what seemed to be curiosity as he did so. Kevin pressed his back up against the locker room door, his eyes never leaving the ones watching him. He held the old gun with one hand and knocked on the locker room door with the other.
"It's me. I've got the keys. They're out here, but it's okay. I've got a gun."
Kevin heard murmuring and movement inside before finally hearing the door open behind him. He stepped to the side, and Cindy slipped around him. They watched her, but still did not move. She looked from them to Kevin. He spoke.
"Here. Go on ahead and open the door at the top of the stairs."
He handed her the ring of keys and she nodded and walked hurriedly down the hall. George followed after and stopped next to Kevin, staring as if in shock at them.
"Keep moving. It's okay. Hurry." said Kevin.
George did so. Kevin could hear Mark struggling with Bob inside. As soon as he heard them in the doorway behind him, the bloody woman behind him lunged toward them. Kevin jumped back in surprise at the woman's speed and bumped into Mark and Bob, nearly knocking the already struggling pair to the ground. With limited room to maneuver, Kevin delivered a well placed boot to the woman's bloody and exposed midsection, sending her backwards into her shambling companions. Mark recovered behind him, and began slowly making his way down the hall with the nearly unconscious Bob. Startled by the woman crashing into them, the other two joined her and started towards Kevin. Judging by the speed Mark was moving behind them, Kevin knew he didn't have the time to hold them back any longer. He waited for the three of them to get a bit closer in the cramped hallway, aimed dead center at chest level, and pulled the trigger. The buckshot tore into the woman and the two men behind her as all three went careening backwards to the ground as blood and gore splattered on the hard wood floor behind them. Once all had settled, Kevin heard movement further down the hall, near the first floor stairwell. The stairs were creaking, and the sound of footsteps coming up them were the only sound he could hear, replacing even the ringing of the shotgun in his head. They were coming. Lots of them. Looking behind him, Kevin saw that Mark and Bob had just reached the door leading to the second floor stairwell. Hurrying behind them, Kevin went around to Bob's other side and began assisting Mark to get him up the stairs. The footsteps were coming down the hall now. Not only that, but Kevin could smell them. A smell he'd already had enough of for one night, now for a lifetime. The three he'd just encountered were in bad shape, but simply looked banged up. What was coming for them now could only be described as the walking dead.
Thankfully, the door at the top of the stairwell stood open once they reached the top, and Kevin let go of Bob, letting Mark take full hold of him again. Kevin looked back down the stairwell and thought. A moment later, he was tearing down the steps. Before he reached the bottom, he was reaching for the door to close it, but was unable to due to the mass of bodies now crowding the cramped hallway and trying to force their way into the stairwell. Fifteen to twenty were outside the door alone, with more coming down the hallway behind them. And they were all reaching out for Kevin, groaning and moaning in exasperation and hunger in unison. Kevin gave up on closing the door immediately, and instead began backpedaling up the stairway, opening the barrel of the shotgun and expending the used shells to the ground. He reached into his breast pocket and fumbled around before pulling out tow shells between his fingers. He managed to load them into the barrel as the mob piled into the small stairwell, advancing upon him quickly. As he tried to take another step backwards, he miscalculated and fell backwards. Lying on his back, he aimed downwards at the ever advancing and expanding mob, and shot at the ones nearest him that had just taken a hold on his boot. The front of the crowd rocked backwards momentarily, some of them falling to the ground from the blast, others advancing regardless. Kevin pushed up the stairs backwards using his legs and elbows, and when he found he'd made enough distance between himself and the mob, he turned and attempted to stand. Just as he did, a cold, bony hand grabbed hold of his leg and tripped him up again. He managed to break free and scrambled the short few remaining steps to the doorway. As he attempted to shut the door, a lone member of the mob had managed to get ahead faster than the rest and stood directly in the doorway. Kevin slammed the door, but the lone, decomposing man prevented it from closing. As the door bounced off of him, he lunged at Kevin and grabbed hold of his shoulders. Kevin managed to get his forearm between himself and the man, and began fumbling for the remaining shell in his breast pocket. The man began snapping his jaws inches away from Kevin's face, exposing him to the rancid smell of rot and death as his fingers finally found the remaining shotgun shell. Other members in the mob reached the top of the stairs as Kevin simultaneously attempted to fend off the decomposing man and load the shotgun. The man managed to gain greater leverage, and came dangerously close to tearing off a piece of Kevin's cheek. The mob slowly advanced and grew behind him. As the man came in for another bite, Kevin shoved the large, last remaining shell into the man's open jaws. Just then, Mark threw all of his weight into the door, and knocked the stunned, decomposing man back into the stairwell with the rest of the mob. The door clicked shut, and Kevin turned the lock before turning and collapsing his weight backwards into the door. Outside, the mob began pounding against the heavy, oak door. Kevin took a look around the room for the first time. They were in the wine room.
