Kennedy of the West


Author's Note: Thank you to my anonymous reviewers for leaving reviews and I'm glad you are enjoying the story thus far! Unfortunately, there is at least one reader who found the last chapter (and possibly the one before it) to have some "unneeded drama", to which I have to disagree, at least to some point. I'll admit that those chapters in particular have been the most dramatic out of all of them, and sure Claire was more emotional than before, and Leon may be a little more thick-skulled than previously, but you have to remember that this story takes place one year after Raccoon City 1998, so the characters are relatively younger than most fans know them nowadays. Not only that…but Sherry's freakin' dead. Tell me that isn't reason enough for them to be going crazy. Maybe I have this all thought-out wrong, but most people seem to be happy with what I've been doing so far so I'm going to continue on the path I have laid out for the next few chapters. Do speak up if you feel the need to say something about the story, anything at all, because I do take feedback seriously. I may go back to those chapters and change a few things up, but the main plot will follow the same course it always has been. Sorry for interrupting your reading with this huge block of text; I'll try to keep it down in the future. Anyways, enjoy the next chapter.


Chapter 12: The Leader's Backstory


"It was the September of 1998 in Raccoon City when it all began," said Shamus. "I'm sure you're both familiar with it."

The two guests nodded in unison as they recalled the horrifying night they had fighting for their lives against the army of the living dead. It surprised them all the same how this Black Dog gang apparently had ties to the outbreak.

"I knew him at that time," continued Shamus, staring into the blackness of his beverage. "He was a client of mine in the city. Back then I worked a lot on cars, had my own family-owned business and everything, handed down to me from my gran-pappy. Anyway, back then we never knew him as the kind of man to perform crimes as serious as what you've witnessed. He went by the name of Zachary Freeman, 'course that was the name given to him by his mother. He wasn't bad by any means. In fact, he was a proud father of one child with a beautiful wife and worked as an accountant for one of Umbrella's business sectors. I…You're familiar with Umbrella right?"

"Yes, we know," replied Leon as he glanced at Claire.

She nodded her head again, trying to piece together how Umbrella could possibly fit into this mess.

Shamus swirled his coffee around again, a small whirlpool starting to form in the center.

"Life was great," he said. "Well, it wasn't great but it sure as hell was somethin' better than this. Everything changed during the night of the outbreak. You started seein' articles in the paper about people gone missing, police urging families to stay inside after dark, an' so much chaos that eventually erupted into what some perceive as the most terrifying event since the Holocaust. When those zombies started appearing, it became a matter of life and death for those people. Fight for yourself and survive. You learned very quickly never to trust anyone; not even your own friends…"

His story was beginning to remind Leon of his feelings when he first entered Little Town. Claire understood where Shamus was coming from, but felt herself feeling a little impatient, as most of the stuff he was telling them about they already experienced firsthand. She wanted to know more about The Leader, this "Zachary Freeman".

"Our end of the town hadn't been made aware of how fast these monsters were taking over the city," continued Shamus. "By the time I had Margaret and…and my son packed up and ready to go, people were already being devoured right outside our own house. We got in the car and headed out west, but were stopped when we saw Zac and his family stranded in the middle of the park outside the local school. Hundreds of children were flooding from the doors…but that's when I noticed that those children weren't real children. They were monsters. They surrounded Zac, his wife, and his little boy, who was no more than 2 years old at the time. I wanted to help them, but my fear was too great, and all we could do was sit there and watch as inevitable doom fell upon him."

Shamus put the cup down on the table, the liquid splashing up slightly but remained within the boundaries of the container.

"That's when I noticed he had a weapon: A machine gun or something like it. He must have gotten it from a fallen victim. Either that… or he stole it from Umbrella. He began shootin' down the school kids by the tens, twenties, fifties. The sound was so loud I felt like my ears were going to snap. He was so caught up in the attack that he didn't notice a zombie come up from behind and bite his wife in the legs. She screamed a blood-curdling scream, one like none I had ever heard a person scream before. Before old Zac noticed what had happened, two more kids grabbed onto her, pulling her to the ground. She held on tight to that baby though. It got worse after that because when Zac turned around and started shootin' down those monsters, he accidentally shot his wife and kid to bits as well. He couldn't control the recoil of the gun, and that ultimately is what led to his family's downfall. I heard him cry out into the night, damning mankind for his loss, and going on a rampage in that playground. By that time though we had booked it out of there, and thankfully found a side passage out of the city."

The mustached man poked at his cup on the table as he tried to remember any more details from the event, but nothing else seemed to come to him. Leon sat with his eyes closed, picturing the whole train of scenarios in his head, and to be honest, he wasn't very pleased with it. If Zachary Freeman really was The Leader, then that horrific tragedy was reason enough for him to go insane. But Leon wasn't buying it; he knew The Leader wasn't all crazy. There was some sort of rational thought going on in the man's head when he spoke with him at least.

"What happened after that?" asked the ex-cop, opening his eyes in the process.

"Well, we moved out here to Little Town, the farthest place inland from the city. We had to downsize and change our way of living, but we got used to it…It didn't last long though."

Claire leaned forward a bit, realizing that this was the part that the Black Dogs in the hotel were talking to them about earlier.

"He just showed up one day out of the blue, as if he was carried in by the desert sands. That was the day Little Town changed completely. He threatened every person in the town, saying that if they didn't listen to him, he would gun them down on the spot. Most folks of course thought he was just some looney who spent too much time in the sun (and who knows, maybe he did), but we soon learned the power of this man after he killed the sheriff and his deputies, as well as every other authority figure in the area. And he cut the phone lines, leaving us stranded in this desert. My…my little boy was out playing with his friends when he attacked. And I never saw him again after that. People were dyin' in the street, some of them begging for mercy on their own doorsteps…but The Leader was relentless. He shot people down, some of them he even sliced right open with a blade and left their insides to bake under the sun. He recruited anyone wishing to join his side, promising them a longer life so long as they pledge their lives to his own selfish needs. We called them the Black Dogs for their speed and lethalness, and if you got caught fighting a pack of them, you better have prayed that they don't make your death an agonizingly painful one. To this day, I still don't know what he wants from this town. Whoever isn't here right now is either dead or is a member of his gang, so it's not like there's anything left for them to take. Margaret and I are just waiting for the day when he finally leaves so we can have our old lives back…"

He pushed the cup of coffee away and pulled a small flask out of his vest, taking several swigs from the holy water.

"Marge doesn't like to hear that story… If you hadn't already guessed."

Claire glanced out to the hall to see if Margaret would return, but she remained to be hidden.

"I'm sorry about your son," said Claire quietly, unsure of what else to say to that tragic story.

"It's alright, I understand," replied Shamus, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "I feel the same for you and your little girl. It's strange how much you don't realize you love someone…until they're not there anymore…"

Leon noticed his eyes beginning to water and quickly jumped onto another question to get his mind off the subject.

"So the reason why The Leader has such a grudge against kids is because of the traumatic experience he had in Raccoon City?" he asked.

"I like to think so," replied Shamus, regaining control of himself. "I never spoke to the man after that night, but I can tell you for sure that he was never like that before the incident. It still isn't right for him to do this. He's been a lonely man since his wife died, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't consider any of his followers as friends. Something happened to him between those two events that caused him to act this way, but I'm afraid I don't know all the answers."

"You know enough," said Leon reassuringly. "We at least have a better understanding of who we're dealing with here."

"Are you thinking about fighting the Black Dogs?"

Leon looked at Claire who returned the gesture with a nod. He knew that previously, she was well against his decision to fight The Leader and the Black Dogs, but with the recent turn of events regarding Sherry, she figured there was nothing else for them to lose besides their own lives. And to be frank, it's not like that fact has ever stopped them in the past.

"We're thinking about it," replied Leon. "We don't know how we're going to do it, but we'll figure out a way."

"You sound mighty confident in yourselves," commented Shamus as he took another swig. "I'm not tryin' to down-talk you or anythin'. If you've come up with something to put a stop to these crooks, then let's hear it."

Claire still couldn't get over the fact that not only was The Leader in Raccoon City when the outbreak occurred, but he also had an affiliation to Umbrella at the time. It was just as she and Leon had been suspecting from the beginning, that these Black Dogs were in fact terrorists. If they weren't that, and by some odd chance they actually just happened to be a group of innocent men led astray by some demonic power, she'd have no problem dealing with that either.

"The information you've given us is useful," said Claire, "but it's nothing we'll be able to use against them. We don't even know where they are right now."

"Well I can tell you one thing for sure," replied Shamus. "Those Black Dogs have taken over the mayor's house and made it their own 'secret hideout'. But if you ask me, there's no point in having a 'secret hideout' when there's no one to hide from. Everyone knows they're there."

"The mayor's house, huh…" muttered Leon as he sat back in his seat. "I assume that's the biggest building in town?"

"Yes it is as a matter of fact. It's also pretty historic as every mayor who's ever lived here has lived in that house. Although, chances are now it's probably been destroyed and desecrated by those bandits."

"Are they there all the time?"

"When they're not out killin' other folks or lookin' for folks to kill, yeah. They don't do anythin' besides drink and party if they have no job to do. It's a sad reality we have to face in Little Town, but the days when the Black Dogs are hung over from a night of drinking are actually the more peaceful days. The Leader will kick their butts if he needs to, but unless he's got a job to do, he lets 'em do whatever they want."

This newfound information gave Claire an idea for fighting back against the bandits. If what Shamus was saying was true, then essentially what they were dealing with was a hive of Black Dogs that never left their nest unless told to by their "queen". If they could find a way to destroy the nest, along with every crook inside the building, then there would be no need to engage in a gunfight with them. The question was, where were they going to find something big enough to destroy an entire house?

"Claire, you've got something on your mine?" asked Leon as he noticed his partner focusing heavily on the empty plate in front of her.

"Something," she replied plainly. "There just might be a way for us to turn this whole thing around."

"I know what you're thinking, Claire," said Shamus all of a sudden. "And believe me, we've thought about it too. We've even gone so far as to make our own bomb. The problem is, we don't know how to get it in there without getting shot."

"Hold on," replied Leon. "Did you say you have a bomb?"

"Yep, and homemade too, thanks to Marge," said Shamus proudly. "She used to work in a fireworks factory."

Leon and Claire both exchanged glances, reading each other's minds like an open book.

"Do you mind if we took a look at it?" asked Claire.

"Heh. Well don't ask me, my wife's right there."

The pair turned to the kitchen entrance to see Margaret leaning against the doorframe. How long had she been standing there for?

"Come on, I'll show you," she said, gesturing for them to follow.

The trio got up from their seats and followed Margaret up the creaky stairs to the bedroom. Compared to the rest of the rooms in the house, the bedroom seemed relatively clean as there were no signs of litter or trash anywhere like there had been in the main hall. She glided over the dark green carpet to the closet, digging through piles of clothes and towels. Leon and Claire stood to the side watching her throw various items out into the middle of the room.

"This is an entire month's work right here," said Margaret as she tossed a pair of dirty boots over Leon's feet. "I was saving it for a rainy day, but the days have always been rainy since those Black Dogs showed up, if you know my meaning. Ah, here we go."

She pulled a shoebox out of the closet, placing it in the middle of the floor next to the pile of clothes and removed the lid. The other three peered into the box over her shoulders. A set of silver tubes sat in the box thickly taped together, giving off the illusion that they were sticks of dynamite. A small piece of metal plating was taped to the top of the tubes, with a thin set of yellow wires protruding from the plating and digging into a central tube. Also attached to the metal plating, was a small remote with antenna. For a homemade bomb, it was impressive to say the least.

"Looks promising," commented Leon. "But how good is it?"

"How good is it?" replied Margaret in an almost dumfounded manner. "This thing goes off, you'll level an entire block in this town. Umbrella execs would pay big bucks for one of these babies. I call it the 'M-Bomb'. Name after yours truly."

Margaret lifted the small object up out of the box, bringing it into the light. The reflections of what little sunlight came from the boarded up windows was more than enough for the silver casing to shine brightly.

It was then that the spark of hope Claire had been searching for since the saloon burnt down found its way back to her.

"We have the weapon," she said. "All we need now is a way to get to the mayor's house."

She looked at Margaret, who promptly looked at Shamus, who then promptly looked at Leon.

"Please tell me you have a plan," he asked, his face giving off some form of regret.

"I do…" she replied reluctantly. "But you're not going to like it."

That was the moment when Leon realized he had been demoted from a sheriff to a package-delivery boy.