Chapter 34: Exodus
(REBECCA)
The old woman, whose name was Loretta, led the two cops down a narrow corridor between the tall wooden bookcases. She had her shotgun resting on her shoulder, making her look all the more like something out of an old Western. The children followed on all sides, quiet forms in the shadows, like wraiths. Only the nervous shuffle of their feet and the occasional whispered remark let Rebecca know they were real.
"Spencer…" she asked, watching Loretta out of the corner of her eye. That name sounded familiar for some reason. She'd heard it before, but she couldn't remember where…
Then they rounded a corner, and Rebecca gasped, half drawing her handgun. Loretta let out a squawk of protest, while Rita swore and groped for her own weapon.
Then Rebecca felt like an idiot and let out the breath she'd taken, slowly easing her Samurai Edge back into its holster. "S-sorry" she stammered, shaking her head ruefully as she and the others stared at the horribly life-like statue of James Marcus before them.
It was a little taller than the sad, crazy old man she remembered meeting back in July, but the facial features themselves were the same: the same harsh facial lines, the same hawk-like nose, the same beady little eyes. It was clear whoever the sculptor had been, he or she had seen Marcus in the flesh.
The Marcus statue stood beside another, this one of a fit looking middle-aged man in a military uniform. He had a short beard and a stern, serious expression.
Both statues flanked a third, this one standing a little taller on a pedestal. This individual was clearly shorter than the others, and Rebecca suspected he suffered from a Napoleonic complex, if the little boost his representation got was any indication. He looked a bit more like Marcus, but was balding, and had a cruel, arrogant set to his face, especially his eyes.
"Miss Chambers, please" Loretta said, aghast. She refused to call Rebecca and Rita anything other than Miss; Rebecca found it more than a little irritating. "There are far more dangerous things loose in the city than our statuary. Honestly! You're scaring the children."
"Sorry about that" Rebecca said again, turning to the old librarian. "Who are these…people?"
Loretta smiled, apparently forgetting she'd been mad less than a minute earlier. "These are the three men responsible for this building" she explained. She pointed to the man on the left, in the military uniform. "That is Arthur Abernathy. His family founded Raccoon City back in the 1860s, just before the Civil War. The man in the middle is Lord Ozwell Spencer, a member of the British aristocracy. And the man on the right is-"
"James Marcus" Rebecca finished. "Yes, I'm…familiar with him. But what do they have to do with this building?"
"Lord Spencer believed in a simple creed" Loretta explained, gesturing toward a plaque beneath his statue. "Knowledge and brilliance are the gift of the heavens to all mankind" she read. "It is the responsibility of the brilliant use their knowledge to its fullest extent. Only through this can man truly attain greatness."
Rebecca listened to Loretta, realizing the creed bore a striking resemblance to the motto Marcus had read over the old UMTC's PA system. Obedience breeds Discipline. Discipline breeds Unity. Unity breeds Power. And Power is Life. It was the same sort of elitist drivel Umbrella seemed to enjoy so much. And that meant Spencer must've been somehow connecting to the company. Great Rebecca thought. Just what I need.
Loretta kept talking about the library and how wonderful its three benefactors were, for some time. Rebecca tuned her out, for the most part, simply studying the building. It was a lot like the library she and Billy had passed through at the Umbrella Management Training Facility back in July, although it didn't feel quite so sinister. She suspected this was the public face Umbrella put on for the world, like that Beatles song about the woman who kept faces in a jar. This place felt all homey and safe, although Rebecca knew that was an illusion. Somewhere, there had to be something monstrous lurking. All her experience with Umbrella screamed it.
Loretta stopped in front of a pair of large, dark oaken doors. "Here you are, ladies" she said. "These doors lead outside."
Rebecca stared at her in shock. "These doors are the entrance? Why aren't they blocked off? Those things could get in-"
Loretta smiled faintly. "Dearie, that door is three inches thick. I highly doubt anyone would be able break through it, especially not with their bare hands. We're safe here. Trust me."
"Well, now that we're up here, I'd better call Harry" said Rita, pulling the small handheld radio off her belt and thumbing it on, causing it to emit a faint buzzing noise. "Harry? Harry, come in. This is Rita. Over."
There was a crackle of static, followed by a voice on the other end of the line. "Rita? Thank God! I thought you were all dead!"
Rita gave him a minute, apparently waiting for an over that never came. "Roger that" she finally said. "Marvin sent us out lookin' for ya. Please tell me you've still got the van. Over."
"Yeah, I'm still here" Harry replied. "I'm parked over on McKnight and Kearney. You want us to head back to the station?"
Again, Rita paused, waiting for Harry to sign off. It was becoming clear he didn't know much about radio etiquette. "No, you need ta stay put. We're gonna come ta you. Over."
"Roger that" Harry replied. "Where are you, and when can we expect you?"
Rita didn't wait this time. "We're at some sort of library. We've got a job to do nearby, and then we'll be on our way to you. Expect us in half an hour to forty-five minutes. And we're gonna have ta come back here. There's a group of civilians here we're gonna have ta take with us. Over."
"How many we talking here?" Harry asked.
Rita turned and did a brief count with her eyes. "I'd say somewhere between fifteen and twenty, give or take. Over."
"Fifteen or twenty?" Harry whistled softly. "I'm not sure they're all gonna fit…"
"It's a bunch of kids" Rita answered coldly, a dangerous edge to her voice. "I hope you're not suggesting we leave them behind."
"N-no ma'am" Harry replied. "I'll-I'll see what I can do."
"Good" Rita said curtly. "Rita out." She turned to Loretta and the kids. "We're gonna go to the power station" she explained. "We gotta reset the generator there, so the fuel pumps at our station will start working again. Then we'll be able to get y'all oughtta here."
Rebecca hadn't heard this part of the plan. She knew they were going into the city for something, but she hadn't realized it was electricity. "I thought we already had power" she said, confused.
"The station runs on a generator when the power goes out" Rita explained. "It keeps the essentials going: the computers, the lights, the cell doors, that sorta thing. But the fuel pumps take a lotta juice, so Chief Irons figured it would be simpler to cut them out of the system. Apparently it never occurred to him the generators need gas to run." She shook her head in disgust. "But that's not important right now." She looked at the kids. "Do y'all think ya can handle waitin' here a little while longer?" There were a lot of wide-eyed nods. Rebecca suspected the children were in awe of the two crazy women who'd climbed out of the floor and were talking about getting them to safety. It was odd for Rebecca to have a kid idolize her (she sometimes suspected her maternal instincts had been surgically removed when she wasn't looking, an odd trait for a nurse); in truth, having anyone look up to her was new.
Rita turned to her. "Ya ready?"
Rebecca nodded. "Yeah."
Rita smiled, pulling out her handgun. "Good. Then let's go!" Together, they shouldered open the big oaken doors and stepped out into the cold early morning air.
There was a shriek, and a hunter dashed out of the shadows, arms raised as it charged. Rebecca and Rita spun to face it, firing their weapons point-blank into the monster. Then, at the last second, they side-stepped, letting the BOW's momentum carry it into a wall. It slammed into the stonework headfirst, then collapsed backward and didn't move.
Rita was breathing hard, eyes wide as she looked from the dead monster to Rebecca. "What. Was. That?" she asked.
"A monster" Rebecca replied, turning to Loretta, who stood at the door, eyes wide, the children arrayed behind her. "Stay here, and lock the doors. Don't open them for anyone but us, okay?"
Loretta nodded slowly, then turned to the others. "Alright, kids, let's get inside. It won't be much longer." With a final dull groan, the doors swung closed. There was a clang a second later as a bar was slide into place over it, and the two police were now locked outside.
"Well, I guess that's it, then" Rebecca said.
Rita nodded. "Yeah. Let's get a move on."
There were a few zombies on the street, wondering around, lost and dazed. Rebecca and Rita moved quietly, not wasting ammo on the solo walkers. Shooting would only make noise, noise would attract more, leading to more shooting, leading to more infected: it was a vicious cycle neither of them was especially interested in starting.
The power station was only about a block and a half away, and they managed to reach it without incident. Better still, while the compound was fenced in, the rusted gate hung partially open, and it was easy enough to slip inside. Rebecca knew the open door was going to be trouble, since an infected had almost certainly found its way inside, but that was a problem not immediately needing dealt with.
The two women hurried inside, then swung the gate closed behind them. A few zombies looked up, dazed, mouths hanging slackly open, then went back to whatever it was infected people did when they were bored. So far, it seemed to Rebecca they just stood around and moaned a the world. It got old pretty fast.
"This way" Rita said quietly, motioning for Rebecca to follow her down a hallway. As she did so, Rebecca noticed a thin trail of blood, leading toward the only building within the fence. Wonderful.
The door to the power station was hanging partially open, and unsurprisingly, there were still lights on inside. They entered quickly, weapons at the ready, but there was no need.
There were three bodies in the room, their blood painting the walls a sick red color. Two were close together; Rebecca could see obvious bite marks on their bodies. One was a city worker, the other a civilian, a random citizen at the wrong place and wrong time. The third wore a set of green combat fatigues, just like Carlos Oliveira and the other Umbrella mercenaries. He was also missing his head, a shotgun clutched tightly in his fists, the barrel still propped up against his nonexistent chin.
Rita pointed to a control panel. "That's it" she said triumphantly. "This is what we came here for." She pushed a button on the console, and a big, boxy machine in the center of the room began to churn.
"How long will this take?" Rebecca asked, peeking out the still open door. A few zombies had turned to look at the power station when the machine started up, but didn't really seem interested…yet. She had no idea when that would change, though, so she reached down and, as gently as possible, pried the shotgun away from the dead mercenary. She hadn't known him, but Carlos and his men had saved her life, and the Umbrella soldiers Mat had met had done the same for him. She owed his service a lot.
She checked the shotgun's magazine. It was a Remington, a Model 870, which normally had an eight-shell magazine. Three were missing, but she found a box of them in his pockets, along with a snub-nosed .357 Colt magnum revolver…and a very creased photograph, folded up and stuffed into the man's breast pocket. Rebecca carefully unfolded it, revealing a pair of little girls. There was writing on the back.
Peggy and Grace
Easter, 1997
Below it was a smaller, messier script:
Miss you, daddy! Hope you're having lots of fun in Nicaragua!
Oh…no Rebecca thought. This guy had…oh God…
"What is it?" Rita asked.
Rebecca shook her head. "Nothing. Just…nothing." When I get out of here, she vowed, Umbrella's going down.
(ALYSSA)
The whir of the pumps in the garage outside made all five of them jump.
Dawson realized what it was at once. "She did it!" he exclaimed. "She fixed the fuel lines. We can get out of here now." He turned to Ben, reaching for the cell door. "C'mon, it's time to go-"
"Forget that" Ben replied, shaking his head. "If what you're saying is true and the T-virus is out, then I'm staying right here. It's too dangerous out on the streets. You said so yourself."
"Damn it Ben!" Alyssa snapped. "Don't tell me your balls have fallen off now! This is our chance to get out of here."
Dawson nodded. "Yeah. If you don't come with us now, who knows when you'll get another chance?"
But Ben wouldn't be dissuaded. "No, I've made my choice. I'm staying here. Maybe, once this all blows over, you can come back for me. Until then, I'm staying right here. If I die, the truth dies with me. This way, if anything happens to you," he looked at Alyssa, "there will still be other people who can get the word out."
Alyssa didn't know about anything happening to her, but she was very close to making something happen to Ben. Then she felt a hand on her arm, and looked over to see Yoko gripping it. "Please" she said in her usually quiet voice. "We need to go."
Alyssa sent a last dirty look at Ben, then turned to the others. "Fine. If he wants to stay here, let him rot."
Dawson pulled out the cell key and tossed it to Ben. "Here, take this. If you decide to change your mind, you at least won't be locked in here."
Ben nodded. "Thanks Mat, but I suspect this is the safest place in Raccoon City." He picked up the key, then settled back down on the bunk. "Good luck out there. You're gonna need it."
(KEVIN)
The infected were everywhere. It was like someone had wrung the dinner bell, and now they were all coming in for…Kevin glanced down at his watch. 4:30. Breakfast. Shit. We've been at this all night.
They had retreated to the perimeter directly around the main door to the HQ. Zombies milled around on the courtyard and the strange tunnel which ran beside it. Several more pounded on the main gate. Kevin had no idea how the first ones had managed to get over the fence, but a few more climbers had since repeated the trick. For every zombie he and the others killed, it seemed like half a dozen more were just waiting to step in.
The slide locked back on Kevin's .45, and he ejected the spent magazine, patting his right leg down with one hand as he searched for more, cursing for the hundredth time this morning the fact that he hadn't opted for the high capacity M1911. The weapon had twice the magazine size, but suffered from a much wider grip as a result. Kevin hadn't been impressed with the weapon's handling, since shooting the extended Colt was akin to trying to hold an extremely angry, extremely fat chinchilla…as opposed to the normal model, which was similar to clutching an average sized one.
But seven rounds just weren't enough for him, he was learning quickly. As tightly packed as the monsters were, his magazine kept running dry at the most inconvenient times. David had bailed him out twice, casually firing the tiny .44 one-handed, as if it was nothing.
The others were handling themselves pretty well. The two Umbrella soldiers, Karl and Dustin, were firing their shoulder arms on semi-automatic, the two H&K weapons giving short, sharp barks with each shot. David kept firing his damn magnum like it was a .22, while even Jim was making a decent accounting of himself. He'd only managed to actually put down two of the infected, but he'd shot others in the kneecap, allowing the others to take their time finishing them off.
There was a crash from behind Kevin as the big door swung open. He and David spun around, weapons at the ready, only to find Chase Mathison and the guy claiming to be a former Marine standing there.
"Jesus" Chase muttered. "They're everywhere!" He turned to Kevin. "We just heard from Rita. She's on her way back, but we've got to get these doors open."
"Sure thing, boss" said David irritably. "Just as soon as we clear all these fuckers oughtta here, I'll be happy to oblige." He fired at a zombie with the Smith and Wesson, the flicked the cylinder out, shook out the empty shells, and loaded in six more.
Chase unslung his rifle, clicking a round into the chamber. "Okay. We'll stay here and help you out." The Marine nodded, pulling a bizarre looking Colt out of his waistband and clicking off the safety.
With seven people, they gradually managed to turn the tide. Chase, Dustin, and Karl provided cover fire from the top steps of the station while the others got up close and personal.
At last, the flow infected slowed down. David kicked a former postal worker in the back of the leg, used his foot to shove him to the ground, then smashed the man's brains out with his boot.
Chase nimbly jumped down from the steps, slinging his M14 over his shoulder as he walked. "Hurry" he said, his boots clicking on the cobblestones. "Let's get this door open."
He and Kevin took positions on opposite sides and shoved. With a groan, the huge iron gate swung outward, opening onto the street behind. Kevin got a good look at what Raccoon City had become since he'd arrived at the station, and what he saw…wasn't pretty.
The buildings across the street from the precinct were covered in soot and blood. Crimson handprints dotted the walls, and just about every window had been broken. It looked twenty times worse than any riot he'd seen. The infected must've come stumbling out of every nook and cranny, wherever they'd come to rest, in their rush to get to the station. That explained why everything looked worse now.
A zombie lunged at Kevin, mouth open wide, a few teeth missing, the rest stained black. It was close enough he could smell the stench of decay on its breath, see the pieces of…people it had lodged in its teeth. It grabbed Kevin by the shoulders, raised its head back to take a bite…and then went limp, its skull shattered by a single shot.
Kevin kicked the monster away from him, then turned to see the Marine, a smoking handgun held to the side, like he was in a shooting competition. "Thanks" he said weakly. Damn, that was close.
"Not a problem" the Marine replied, with a shrug.
Chase pulled a radio off his belt and held it close to his mouth. "The gate's open. Get a move on. I don't know how long we'll be able to keep it that way. Chase out." He replaced it, then turned to the others. "Well, gentlemen, we're almost there. Just a little farther, and we'll be out of this nightmare."
Kevin nodded slowly. He found he liked the sound of that.
(DAVID FORD)
He could hear their moans behind him as they followed him down the narrow hallway. He turned and fired the Mossberg from the hip, knocking the things back, but not actually killing them. Damn, why don't they die?
David Ford was sober, which he was finding probably wasn't the best way to meet the zombie apocalypse. He couldn't help it, though: the sight of three men squatting beside the eviscerated corpse of a woman was enough to drive the alcohol out of his system.
He hadn't known the lady; she was one of the survivors they'd taken in, that was all he knew. But he did know that was a terrible way to die. And then the woman had looked over at him, while the undead tore her intestines out, and their eyes had met.
Please she mouthed, and that was when he realized she was still alive.
He let out a scream and ran the other way, but his voice attracted the attention of the infected, who began to shuffle after him. They were faster than the others, the undead he'd encountered on the street. He suspected it was because they'd just eaten.
A door swung open and a head poked out. "Ford? What are you doing out here?" an officer asked. He didn't have time to see who it was, though. He kept running. A second later he heard the other man scream as the infected found him…and began to feed. He didn't stop.
He didn't stop running, in fact, until he ran into Marvin Branagh, coming out of the watch room, his Beretta in one hand. "Ford?" he exclaimed, looking up. "What the hell are you-shit!"
He turned, raised his handgun, and shot at the nearest zombie, putting a round into the man's shoulder. The zombie twisted under the impact, but kept coming. Worse, the others who were still devouring the cop down the hall looked up…and began to shamble toward them.
Branagh corrected his aim and shot the dead man in the head, putting him down again. But more and more infected were rounding the corner, and Ford knew the other cop wasn't going to have enough ammo to kill them all.
He tried, though. Marvin Branagh kept firing even as the zombies closed in around him. He shot those at a distance, and punched two in the face, causing them to stagger back.
"God damn it Ford! Fire your weapon!" he snapped, cold fury on his face. Then a zombie clamped its teeth down on his shoulder, and he shrieked in pain.
David Ford huddled in the corner, watching as the fighting ended. He wondered idly why his courage had suddenly deserted him. Then, when the cop at the end of the hallway rose up and began to shuffle toward him, he put all such thoughts out of his head. It didn't matter anymore, anyway.
Then something else shifted out from under the huge pile of corpses in the center of the room. Dazed and bleeding from at least a dozen wounds, Marvin Branagh leveled his handgun at the undead cop and pulled the trigger. "I'm sorry" he said quietly, shaking his head…then turning toward David.
"You son of a bitch" he bit out through clenched teeth. "You stupid, cowardly, son of a bitch!" Then he aimed the Beretta, and pulled the trigger. David saw a flash of light…then nothing more.
(MAT)
The big metal grate began its agonizing climb into the ceiling. Mat and Dean readied their weapons, but it didn't look like any infected had wandered down the ramp. It was clear…for now.
"Great" said Rita, gesturing to two other mechanics. "Let's get these things going, while we've still got a corridor.
It didn't take long to fuel up the RPD vans. Rita acknowledged they were gas guzzlers, though; even with both tanks completely topped off, the drive from the precinct to the Arklay Lookout was still probably going to be a one way trip. Still, it was their only option; they didn't know how bad the streets would be, but trying to drive out of Raccoon City would almost certainly end up with them stranded somewhere in town, and that was no one's idea of a good time.
"We'll get the trucks fueled up, then load everybody in upstairs" Rita was explaining. "I don't want a bottle neck of folks trying to get down here. It'll be easier if we line everybody up on the street and do it that way."
Mat listened with only half an ear. The rest of his concentration was focused…elsewhere. Rebecca had made it back, for which he was eternally grateful. But he hadn't seen her, and that meant he hadn't had time to address the seven-thousand pound elephant in the room. It was going to be messy, no two ways about…
Mat looked over at Dean when the other man tapped his shoulder.
"What's the deal, brother?" he asked.
"I was just…thinking" Mat replied.
Dean snorted. "Yknow, that can be pretty dangerous." He paused, fiddling with his shotgun a little. "Well, things look pretty quite here. Why don't you go find someplace quiet to, uh, think?"
Mat blinked at him in confusion. "Seriously? You sure you don't need me down here?"
"Buddy, I think I can handle watching a bunch of trucks sit around on an empty lot just fine on my own" Dean replied. He made a shooing motion. "Go ahead. It'll be fine."
Mat nodded. "Thanks." Then he turned and made his way back upstairs.
It didn't take him long to find someone who could help him. Soon enough, he spotted the blonde woman, the waitress, running around with an armful of towels.
"Hey, wait!" he shouted, briefly scanning his memory for a name. "Uh…Cindy, right?"
She paused, nodding slowly, looking a little confused. "Yeah, that's right. What can I do for you, officer?"
"My friend Rebecca, has she come back to the infirmary yet?"
Cindy thought for a moment. "You know, I think I may have seen her when I was on my way out." She patted the towels in her arms. "George wants these. They'll make pretty good bandages, and he wants to change everyone's out before we move the patients."
"Makes sense" said Mat, slinging his P90. "Want some help?"
Cindy shook her head. "No, I've got these. But we might need some assistance upstairs?"
Mat started to nod, only to be cut off by a burst of automatic weapons fire. "What the hell?"
Cindy's eyes went wide. "That came from the infirmary" she said, her face going white.
Mat clicked the fire selector switch on his SMG from safety to semi-automatic. "C'mon" he said. "Let's go."
He hurried down the corridor, and almost slipped in a puddle of blood spreading around the body of a police officer. He heard Cindy gasp, and was close to loosing his lunch himself. He'd seen bodies messily devoured before, but this was among the most brutally killed people he'd ever seen. It almost looked as if the man's head had been twisted off…
"C'mon" he said, motion for Cindy to follow him. He led her past the briefing room where he'd first learned of the STARS mission back in July, past the dark room where Guthrie had murdered Heather, and up a flight of stairs. He could hear Cindy keeping pace with him, even in her high heels, and was impressed.
They rounded a corner and hurried past a trio of statues, down the hallway where the STARS office was located. Through the door to that hallway, they found a massacre.
A single Umbrella mercenary stood, shoulders heaving, smoke still billowing from the barrel of his AK-74, a wild expression on his face and in his eyes. He jerked the weapon at Mat and Cindy, only to have Mat's P90 return the favor.
"Sorry, officer" the man said, lowering his assault rifle. "Just thought you were…never can be too careful." He looked around at the bloody remains up and down the long wooden hallway, as if the whole scene was some sort of cautionary tale.
"What happened here?" Cindy asked, eyes still wide as she tried to take in the sight.
"I-I dunno" the soldier stammered, eyes darting around frantically. "I heard something, so I came up here, but there was this thing, and it-"
The soldier cut off suddenly as a long, pink-colored appendage smashed through a boarded-window and wrapped itself around his throat. He had enough time to let out a horrified scream, before the thing ripped him, kicking and struggling, through the window. Mat hurried over, weapon up, clicking the fire selector to full-auto, but he couldn't see anything.
"Damn" he muttered softly. Then he heard it: a soft, raspy breathing, coming from the other side of the boards. There was something there. Something familiar.
"Cindy?" he asked quietly, stepping away from the wall.
"What is it?" he replied, sounding terrified.
"Run" he said quietly, then repeated himself a little louder. "Run now!"
He heard Cindy make a break for it, just as the wall in front of him exploded.
(REBECCA)
They were slowly packing the patients up when Cindy burst into the room, eyes wide.
"What's going on?" Rebecca asked. She'd heard the gunfire earlier, and a pair of police (a female officer named Danvers and the one who resembled Tom Cruise) had shown up to reinforce the cops at the infirmary. Since that currently consisted of Rebecca and…Rebecca, she was grateful for the help.
The fire had slackened off, and after a few tense moments George had directed them to start helping gather up patients for transport to the Arklay Lookout. It seemed like a good idea to get out of the station now, while they still could…
"There's something out there!" Cindy exclaimed, hurrying away from the door. Just then, someone opened fire with an automatic weapon, the bark of the submachine gun sounding familiar.
"Mat!" Rebecca shouted, heading for the door. Tom Cruise (she thought his name might've been Kevin) made a grab for her, but missed.
"Damn it!" he shouted, "Come back here!"
Rebecca ignored him, heading for the door, only to have it suddenly ripped from its hinges as a huge, reddish pink mass shot through into the room, landing on the floor a few feet in front of her.
"Holy shit!" Danvers shouted, while Kevin screamed at her to move, beckoning wildly with one hand.
Rebecca brought up her handgun and fired, shooting the creature twice in the head, her bullets striking its hideous exposed brain. The creature staggered backward but didn't go down, opening its wide, needle-lined mouth and hissing at her. Another of the obscene, hideously naked monsters clambered around the corner, its hands and feet adhered to the wall like suction cups.
Kevin opened fire with his .45, his heavier bullets slamming into the new monster's back. It hissed and squirmed but didn't go down. Worse, two more monsters scuttled into the room after it. Now there were four of the headshot-immune monsters inside the already cramped infirmary. This is gonna be a bloodbath she realized.
One monster lunged at Danvers, who dove out of the way, rolling over and firing her handgun as the creature leapt past. But the monster had simply been trying to fake her out. It landed among the patients behind her, slashing wildly with its wicked claws. Blood flowed freely, and people screamed in terror.
Kevin was still shooting at the monster on the wall. It opened its mouth and a huge, spear-like tongue shot out. Kevin dodged to the side, but the monster cracked its tongue like a whip, sending him sprawling, his .45 sliding across the smooth wooden floor.
Rebecca felt something wrap around her leg. She looked down in horror to see the first monster had wrapped its tongue around her leg. "Oh-" she began, only to have the monster yank her off her feet, dragging her toward it.
The monster loomed over her. Rebecca brought up her Samurai Edge, trying to fire into its brain, but it knocked away the handgun, before placing its left claw on her shoulder, like it was confiding in her. It shoved her down, while raising its right claw over its head. It hissed loudly, splaying its huge talons, then putting them together, like a gigantic spade. This it angled down, ready to ram into Rebecca's chest.
Then the monster's head jerked back, a bullet striking it between where its eyes ought to have been. The monster's body reared up, and Rebecca got a look at the huge, muscular growth on its chest. A heart she realized. Just like Tyrant.
Then a second bullet struck the monster's heart and it exploded, spraying blood in all directions. Rebecca shut her eyes and looked away, but felt the hot liquid splash across her face anyway. Then the monster slipped off her, landing with a thud on the ground beside her.
"C'mon, up and at 'em" Mat said, offering her a hand. His other was wrapped around Captain Enrico's .45. His P90 was slung across his back, and he looked anxious. "Hurry, before more of those things show up."
"Thanks" she said, letting him help her up, then looking around.
Kevin had a nasty slash across his arm and leg. He was leaning on George. Cindy stood nearby, awkwardly holding his .45 like she was afraid it'd bite her. Danvers was on her feet as well. She spotted Rebecca's handgun and kicked it to her.
"Thanks" she said, collecting the weapon and stuffing it in her holster. Then she looked around. It was just as bad as she'd thought it'd be.
The monsters had blown past the police, then set into the primarily helpless patients. The floor was slick with blood, some of bright and arterial, and covered in eviscerated bodies. A few patients, those who could move on their own, or who'd been at the back of the room, were still alive. The two civilians who'd been helping out, a nurse named Linda and another woman whose name she'd never learned, were both dead as well. She looked away.
Mat studied her face for a minute. "I'm sorry" he said. "We've gotta go."
She nodded. "Yeah. Let's get out of here."
(RITA)
They'd loaded most of the vans already. It just came down to the one Harry had driven up. Rita was glad things had worked out. It was getting a little hairy out there.
The one remaining truck Carlos Oliveira had brought was on rear guard duty, idling just outside the precinct's gates. The corporal himself sat in the passenger's seat, the man named Yuri at the wheel. A third mercenary, a big Samoan man whose name she didn't know, manned the gun. Two more soldiers sat on the tailgate, weapons in their laps. One smoked a cigarette, a cheap, nasty French brand. Its acrid smoke blended with the already pungent odor of Raccoon City, creating a cocktail she could only barely tolerate.
Harry sat in the driver's seat of his van, fidgeting, his hands drumming the wheel. He kept nervously glancing over his shoulder at her. "Can't we go now?" he whined, his face pale, eyes wide.
Rita ignored him. He was getting on her absolute last nerve, with all his constant complaining. It was getting old.
She wished there was someone out her for her to talk to. Rebecca had already climbed into the van with Loretta and the kids from the library, plus a few other survivors. It was second in the convoy, parked down almost at the end of the street, engine idling like all the others.
They were waiting on three cops: Kevin, Chase Mathison, and Mat Dawson. Mat was convinced there was still a survivor, a little girl, somewhere in the station. He refused to leave until they'd searched for her. Rita could appreciate the sentiment, but while she had no desire to leave anyone behind, especially a kid, it seemed penny wise and dollar stupid to put everyone at risk.
Of course, Marvin was still in the station too. Chase had told her he'd go track down the other man and tell him to come on. Rita was worried about her friend. He'd sunk into a depression since she and Rebecca had made their plans to fix the fuel lines, and no one had seen him since. She hoped he was okay.
The station doors were open, meaning one minute Rita could see into the main hall, and the next her view was dominated by Chase, jogging toward the van, M14 unslung and in his hands.
"Did you find her?" she called out.
Chase shook his head.
"Shit."
Kevin and Mat came around next, Mat shaking his head. "I don't know where she could've gotten to. We went all over the place, yelling her name, but never found her. Wherever she is, I hope that poor kid's safe."
"What about Marvin?" she asked.
Kevin shook his head. "I don't know. I'm sorry. We found David Ford and a bunch of dead zombies. It looked like someone had been fighting. But…there was a lot of blood." He shook his head and climbed into the truck behind Mat.
Rita sank to the floor of the van, disbelief weighing on her shoulders. Marvin… She'd met him when she'd first lived here, but they'd kept in touch when she moved out East. He'd helped her get a job at the RPD, looked out for her during training, and now…
There was someone staggering toward the door. Someone in an RPD uniform. Rita's head jerked up. "Marvin!" she shouted. "You're alive!"
But something was wrong. His uniform was all bloody and he was clearly limping. He was injured and breathing heavily.
"Go!" he shouted, leaning against the door, waving frantically at them with one hand. "Go on, get out of here!"
"Shit" said Chase, turning to Harry. "Go on, move it!"
"Marvin!" Rita started to jump out of the van as it began to roll forward.
Kevin grabbed her from behind, pulling her back inside. "No" he said quietly. "Rita…I'm so sorry."
"Marvin…" she said again, watching as he slowly dwindled away.
Kevin looked over at Mat. "How long does he have?"
Mat shook his head, his eyes not leaving the retreating figure of the RPD Captain. "I don't know. If he's strong? A few hours, maybe a day if he's lucky."
"Nothing can be done?"
Mat shook his head, then sat down on the bench and stared down at the armored deck plates.
Eventually, Kevin managed to coax Rita into onto the bench as well. He smiled, trying to put the best face on things. "Don't worry about Marvin. He's tough, and he's straight to the job. Besides, that Kennedy guy's supposed to be coming in tomorrow, right? Marvin's supposed to be over seeing his training. He's not the kind of man to leave a job unfinished, is he?"
Rita shook her head. "No, he's n-"
Suddenly there was a loud bang from somewhere ahead, followed by a humongous crash. The van swerved and Chase, who'd been recharging an M14 mag, swore ass 7.62mm bullets flew in all directions.
"What the fuck?" he demanded, glaring at Harry. "Where the hell'd you learn to drive?"
"Hang on!" he shouted back, twisting to avoid something huge looming ahead. Rita's eyes went wide as she caught a glimpse of a burning police van, then everything was topsy-turvy. The van flipped, the floor became the ceiling, and Rita saw it rising up to meet her…
Hey guys, thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter. I really appreciate it. Anyway, you all know the drill by now. Please drop me another review, if you have the time. Thanks for reading, and happy Easter!
-Godzillafan93