"…This is Jensen, we are OVERRUN. Any available units, please respond!"

"Fire FIRE!"

"Jesus Christ, they're everywhere!"

"GOD! NO! HELP ME!"

We'd looped into RPD radio traffic as we got close, hoping to get some idea of what was going on.

I switched back over to our primary frequency; I couldn't listen to them die anymore.

We flew low over the city, gunfire and explosions dotted the streets and alleyways, off to my right, through the acrid clouds of smoke, a rocket flew through the air and detonated amid a horde of undead, blasting them to pieces and scattering them like grisly confetti, someone was still putting up a fight.

"One minute!" The pilot's voice came over my headset; I tapped Rebecca on the leg, holding up one finger to confirm. She nodded, clinging to the bird for dear life as we jinked around buildings, some of them half-destroyed, others engulfed in flames. We started in for a landing five blocks from downtown; I lifted my feet as the skids made contact, hitting the quick release on my lanyard and moving away, head down, weapon up. Rebecca and Connor followed suit second later, and our ride peeled away, heading back to a safe distance. I checked my sector and keyed my radio.

"Dagger, this is Oxide Actual, I pass checkpoint Omaha."

"Dagger copies Omaha, start the clock, and be advised, the city is going to fold, JSOC teams report minimal survivors and are pulling back, but will remain on standby to cover your exfil if necessary."

The enormity of that statement horrified me; over a hundred thousand people and Delta barely found enough left alive to justify the risk.

Goddamnit.

And on the heels of that thought.

Jill, God, please.

"Actual copies all, Moving to last known position of secondary objective, Oxide Two and Three are en route to primary objective, time now."

"Dagger copies. Out."

I switched over to the team freq, "Alright Connor, We'll rally on the roof of the hospital. You guys be safe and stay in contact."

"Rog' On me, Chambers."

They both gave me a short wave, cutting down an alley and disappearing into the night. I checked my watch, a little after seven in the evening, and started in the direction of home, praying to God that Jill was still there; Rebecca said that she hadn't moved out, even after everything she'd stayed in our little place, maybe she was waiting for me to come back?

Game time Kelly, lock it up.

A zombie came shambling out of an alley in front of me, joined by a crowd that I quickly lost count of, and they were closing fast.

"Oh, fuck."

I looked up at a street sign, seven blocks to the apartment; I didn't waste ammo, I cut right, across the street towards Moon's Donuts, climbed a dumpster, and hopped a fence, the horde hot on my heels. My boots made contact with the slick concrete, and I pushed. I didn't have to go for before screaming reached my ears, coming from the adjoining street, I could see people running. I kicked it into high gear and emerged into hell itself.

The main drag I'd walked my first night in Raccoon was a charnel house, bodies lined the street, zombies stooped low over some, tearing chunks of flesh from their stricken, but still living, victims. The smell of death was everywhere, people were screaming and running, but they were few and far between. Suddenly, I was sent sprawling, hitting the ground, and re-orienting myself as fast as I could to get my rifle on target, targets that happened to be a young guy hauling an infant, dragging a woman by the hand that could only be his wife. We stared at each other for a heartbeat before he passed the little girl to his wife, and wordlessly offered his hand, pulling me to my feet.

"Thanks, man, go, get them out of here."

He nodded, grabbing his family, and running off. As they passed, I noticed a wound on the woman's leg. One that looked an awful lot like a bite mark.

Fuck.

But they were gone before I could call out. What would I say if they'd stopped? Sir, your wife, is as good as dead? Kill her before she eats you alive while your daughter watches?

I turned my attention back to the street, sadness, anger, and desperation welled up inside me, but I had to keep moving. I crested the small hill, near Fox Park, where Jill and I had spent our first day together in Raccoon, a date that both of us were too scared to call a date, to find an absolute sea of zombies waiting for me, cutting across my route, my mind boggled at the sheer number, there must have been hundreds if not thousands of the undead roaming the streets, mindlessly baying for blood. To see the city that held so much promise, so much life, especially for me after everything I'd seen and done, reduced to a slaughterhouse…It was almost more than I could bear.

Something cried out, so close I could feel it's a pain in that growled moan, my head snapped around, and I realized I was all but surrounded; where had they come from? And so fast that I hadn't even known they were there? I didn't think; I just bolted for the first building I could see, the familiar neon signs beckoning me. I crashed through the door and yard-sale'd my gear across the hardwood floor, kicking the door shut behind me as I rolled to my feet.

"Fuck me."

Click-Clack

There are a few unmistakable sounds, the racking of a shotgun in close quarters is one of them, "Say something!"

I already had my hands up, my mind registering the odd but practical question as I turned.

"Clint?"

"Mike?"

The big bartender had an 870 pointed at my face that slowly lowered, "Holy shit kid, I thought you were one of those things."

I shook my head, "Not for lack of trying on their part, how ya doing, man?"

"Surviving."

"Fuck, right? Listen, I can't stay here, I've gotta do something, you shouldn't either, come with me, I can get you out."

Now it was Clint's turn to shake his head, "I can't leave, my girls are still at the university, they know to come here if anything goes down. I won't leave without them."

My mind flashed back to the briefing.

The hardest-hit areas are downtown and the college; we estimate ninety-five percent casualties, based on flyovers.

"Clint, listen…"

His eyes hardened, "I won't leave without my girls Mike, no way."

He was always telling stories about those girls, how pretty and smart they were, just like the wife he'd lost to a drunk driver a decade earlier.

Clinton Rogers wasn't losing anyone else.

I nodded, my heart and my resolve breaking in an instant," I got it, bud, stay, but barricade those doors, don't let anyone unless you know they weren't bitten. Hang tight, and I'll send someone for you and the girls."

I knew it was a lie the moment the words left my lips, "How many rounds for the scattergun?"

"I got half a box left."

Not nearly enough to give him a chance, I pulled my Glock from its holster and handed it to him butt first; the sleek customized Model 34 held seventeen rounds, it wasn't much, wasn't anything, but I owed him something to try to help him survive for a moment longer. I stripped the pistol mags off my vest and belt, laying them on the bar and holding out my hand.

"Good luck Clint."

Somewhere deep inside him, I knew that he knew this was it, as the zombies outside started pressing on the double doors, but he smiled warmly, taking my hand.

"You too, man."

I gave his hand a squeeze, turning to leave before I remembered, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a single frag grenade, I set it on the end of the bar as I made my way to the back deck, bailing over the railing with a sad smile on my lips.

Always take care of your bartenders.

There were blockades set up on our street, concrete and chain link monstrosities, just beyond a horde of zombies milled, moaning. More bodies lined the streets, old, young, it didn't matter, I'm sure they all tasted the same to the monsters. I stepped over a father who had clearly been trying to protect his son, the kid couldn't have been more than five, both their bodies had been savaged almost beyond recognition, muscle and bone exposed, with just enough humanity remaining to chill my soul.

I retched, my MRE painting the sidewalk. I'd seen death before, all over the world, from genocide in Africa to religious zealotry in the Middle East, but this was slaughter with so much more horror behind it than anything before; this didn't just come for your life, it came for your soul. Turned you into a monster that killed and killed and killed, that would eat the faces of your own screaming family and ask for seconds. I'd seen it in the mansion, but nothing in my wildest nightmares prepared me for this.

I tried to calm my rolling stomach, leaning against a light pole, the cold metal felt amazing on my sweat-soaked face.

Get it together, Kelly. Gotta find Jill.

"I'm coming, baby," I whispered it like a prayer as I tried to shake off the horror, picking up the pace. I broke through the shrubs that ringed the apartment building, rifle up, scanning, keeping the rules in mind despite my pounding heart, and sweaty palms. Panic building inside me, the closer I came to the steps.

I pied the stairwell corner, visions of Jill and I drunkenly staggering up these same steps, desperate for each other's touch, tortured me.

Finally, I arrived at our door, and my heart stopped.

The door laid on the floor, smashed off the hinges, something had put a boot to it in a big way, the interior of the apartment darkened and foreboding. I hit my light, moving into the entryway, almost tripping over a familiar pair of boots, memories hitting me like a freight train.

"Trying to butter me up, Mike?"

The kitchen island was on its side, ripped away by a massive force, and tossed into the counter, the pipes slowly filling the place with water.

"You made me breakfast."

"…Can't send my girl off to fight bad guys without a solid meal."

My…Our couch was upended, the stuffing from the shitty IKEA cushions spread everywhere.

"Race ya!" She sprinted for the bedroom, her laugh ringing behind her.

I moved down the hallway, my vision blurry with unshed tears, slicing the corner and checking the bathroom, fully expecting to find Jill's body any moment, or worse yet, having her body find me. The walls were in shambles, holes smashed clean through them, chunks of drywall and wood all over the place. It looked like someone had set off a bomb.

I cut the last corner… the one I was dreading.

I cleared the bedroom where Jill and I first made love, spent not nearly enough nights together, talked about the future, and skirted around plans to have a family one day. The bed had been destroyed, along with the far wall, open air flooding in. But that wasn't what stopped me in my tracks.

The blood spattered all over the floor did it, though. The medic in me knew that is was too much to be survivable; it tracked and traced all over the walls, there was even some on the ceiling. Still wet from whatever fight had taken place.

Jill was gone. She was gone.

Oh God…No…

I just…sat down, dropping my rifle and sliding to the floor. Everything all at once, it overwhelmed me; I don't know what I expected to find. Did I really believe that I'd show up here, find Jill, and we'd ride off together?

You don't get that lucky twice.

I sat there shaking for I don't know how long, so broken that the tears wouldn't come, finally I reached up, keying my radio, "Oxide Actual to Oxide Two."

A second later, Connor came over the freq, "Go for Two."

I tried to keep the despair our of my voice, "Actual has negative precious cargo, last-known is empty, signs of a s-"I took a deep shuddering breath, my soul felt like it was cracking into pieces, "signs of a struggle are apparent. Have to assume the PC is K-…KIA…" I let the PTT go and stifled a scream as a fresh wave of pain swept through me, my whimpering swallowed up by the darkness.

When Connor answered, I barely heard him, "Two copies all Actual… secondary PC is presumed KIA. Two and Three are bogged down by infected eighteen blocks from Primary."

A few tears slipped out of me; I wiped at them; I couldn't afford to break down now.

Any more than I had.

But later, after, once we had the vaccine.

Yeah, that sounded good.

Connor and Rebecca needed me now.

"Actual copies, moving to you now, hang tight."

"Will do Actual, Out."

I stumbled out of the apartment, still in shock. I imagined that I'd be able to find her, always held on to the mad hope that there was a happy ending out there for us.

The clatter of a trashcan down the block brought my rifle up more out of reflex than motivation, my ears straining to make out anything more, I got my answer seconds later.

Something massive stepped into the light, and my mind couldn't make sense of it.

Easily ten feet tall and built like a Mack truck, it wore some kind of black trench coat, massive combat boots adorned its feet. But it was its face that captured my gaze. Its skin was the greenish-yellow of putrefaction, one milky white eye blazed with something as it stared through me, the other was entirely absent, a line of staples seemed to hold it's head together, the skin around its mouth had been excised or torn away, revealing too long teeth gritted together. Bullet holes marked it in a cluster just below that glaring eye.

The crowning horror was the air around it, I felt it from a block away; whatever this thing was, it radiated the kind of malevolence that was reserved for nightmares.

And then it spoke, a deep growling rumble that pushed its way through me, one word chilling me to my bones.

"STARRS…"

The briefing came rushing back again.

Careful on the ground, Kelly, Chambers, there are rumors of a BOW sent after ex-STARS members specifically…

Ice filled my veins, chasing away the sadness and replacing it with a rage like I'd never felt in my life. I knew in my soul that this thing had killed Jill, those bullet holes marking her last stand, the final desperate moments of her life. And now it was here to kill me, sent after the surviving STARS by who else?

I dumped my helmet on the pavement, squaring myself up with Jill's killer, my rifle tracking onto it's ruined face.

I took a deep breath and roared with everything I had

"COME ON! I'LL GIVE YOU STARS, YOU FUCKING PUSSY!"

The thing started towards me, slowly at first, before breaking into huge strides, eating up the distance between us like lightning.

I emptied my magazine into its head, starbursts of blood blossoming, but it didn't go down, of course, it didn't. I dropped the mag and withdrew as I slammed in a fresh one, hurtling dead bodies and sliding over cars as the thing chased me down. I glanced over my shoulder; it was throwing vehicles out of the way like they were toys, more importantly?

It was catching up.

Good.

I used a light pole to slingshot myself around a corner, grabbing for my radio. My voice stayed level when I keyed up, growling a little as I called for help.

"Break, Break. Oxide Actual to any available air, Actual is being pursued by a BOW, requesting fire. Actual will be strobed."

"Watcher copies, Actual, OGA Predator armed with Hellfires, what's your location?"

I crossed an intersection, zombies on my left, but I spied a street sign, "Actual is turning onto Rocker Street, no further information available. Heavy contact Watcher."

I turned, firing the mag on full auto into the thing's chest; it barely slowed down.

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU! COME OOON!"

"Watcher has your sparkle, we see you Actual."

I changed mags again, jumping over a cab that was ablaze, barely feeling the heat that blistered the skin on my arms. Firing my IR Laser the second I touched down on the other side, the monster hurtled a bus a long block in back of me. I snapped my rifle to my shoulder, the IR beam that I couldn't see playing over its chest, guided by feel and pure hatred.

"Watcher, cleared hot."

"Rifle."

The metal on metal screech from the incoming Hellfire rent the evening air; a half-second later, everything south of me lit up in a fireball that reached a hundred feet in the air. The shockwave threw me back into an overturned cop car, my ears rang as I slid down to the blood slicked pavement. I stood shakily, surveilling the damage; Rocker Street was ablaze, bricks water falling off of destroyed buildings, shaken free by the blast; if that thing survived, it deserved to kill me.

I grabbed for my radio, "Oxide Actual to Watcher, Delta Hotel, thanks."

"Always happy to help Oxide, Out."

I tried to re-orient, make my way to the hospital, and help Rebecca and Connor, but my leg wasn't working right; something was off. Each step was getting more and more painful as I pushed myself towards a gas station, finding the place deserted was a small miracle, but I swept it anyway and locked myself in the back office.

A small hole in my Crye's marked the worst of the pain, so I slipped my fingers in a ripped the hole large enough to see; I almost laughed when I saw it. A massive gash scored my leg from the top of my ankle to just below my knee, shrapnel from the blast was my best guess, and it had laid me open something fierce. I backed up and slid down the wall. Fuck it.

Let this place kill me then.

Like it killed her.

My breathing got ahead of me first, my heart began to pound, and I broke out in a cold sweat as rushes of memories, flashbacks, and all manner of nightmares flashed through my mind faster than I could handle. I was confronted by what we were facing, and I realized that all we were doing wasn't enough, and neither was I. The dam broke seconds later, and in that fucking necropolis, everything since the mansion came rushing out of me. I cried my heart out for the unnamed family on the street, for Clint and his beautiful daughters, Chris, Rebecca, Joe, all their faces flashed by faster and faster until they became a blur.

Jill's face shot right through me, the final insult from my mind, penance for showing it more than it ever needed to see.

Everyone has their limit, and I found mine right there, in the wreckage of what had been my life. I wailed, screaming at the top of my lungs in that shitty office for everything life had heaped upon me, all the shit I was forced to take and ask for seconds, for finally giving me something good and taking it away just as fast. I don't know how much time passed before my voice gave out, but it finally did; pain tore through me, reminding me that I was still alive, mocking me with it.

I collapsed, letting the silence take me; I laid there on the now bloody tile, shaking and crying.

"Oxide Two to Actual. Come in, Actual."

I tried to find the strength to answer, and I just couldn't.

"Oxide Two to Actual, Come in Actual…C'mon Mike."

…You're the guy who's trying to save the world.

My eyes snapped into focus, something shifted inside me, some forgotten piece snapped into place. Connor, Rebecca, they were out there, counting on me, there were still people to save, out there in hell. The world would crumble if we didn't get that vaccine, and Umbrella would win.

What would Jill want you to do, Mike?

And like an old friend, a soft, husky voice whispered in my ear.

"I've got your back, babe, all the way."

I wrapped that hallucination around me like a blanket, and God help me; it gave me strength, "All the way, baby girl." I whispered to no one, my abused vocal cords protesting, my hand slowly reaching up and finding the PTT button.

"…Go for Actual."

A/N:

Mike has had about enough, everybody breaks. Read and review; I appreciate any and all feedback. Until next time.