Chapter 7: September 30

The city is beyond help......... The police are dead, Umbrella is gone and those "freaks" now rule the street. Those lifeless, hideous "freaks". The streets are no longer safe to walk on, the parks no longer safe to play. My wife was ripped to pieces when the first hours of the attacks began that cursed night seven days ago. Umbrella was behind the whole thing. They had been using hundreds of machines to pile cars 20 feet high, blocking the citizens from escaping this cursed city. They had to have launched the virus into the water system, and then let the "freaks" out of the cages and set them loose. All this credited to one man, William Birkin. He had to have been dead by now. The day before the first attacks, a secret operation was sent to collect Birkin's new pet project, the G-Virus. None of them made it out alive. No one but them knowing their killer.

I was brought aware of the situation driving home from work, the day of the first attacks. Two people were lying down in the middle of Main Street with a younger man kneeling beside one. It seemed as though he was gouging her eyes out and eating them. No one there was lifting a finger to stop him. Pulling out my Beretta, I ran up behind the man and plugged three rounds into his chest. It didn't even faze him. He turned around and looked me straight in the eye. His eyes were cataract, skin peeling off his face and the stench of death on his body. He stood up and made a lunge at me. I smacked him in the back of the head with the butt of my gun. Then I heard the sirens in the distance. Thankfully help was on the way. I moved the bystanders away and told them to run. I ran to my car and grabbed another clip. When I brought myself up he was slowly moving towards me. I took aim at his heart and fired. Once, twice, three times. But he kept on coming. Just then two police cars came flying past and side swiped the young man. Sending him 10 feet backwards. Four cops surrounded it waiting for it to get back up. A young black cop came out with a shotgun and poised for it to get back up. The man stood up again looking for another meal. The cop fired and the buckshot round ripped into his skull and he fell to the ground, moving no more. After checking my ID they let me on my way. Knowing I worked for Umbrella was good; they knew I wouldn't give away any secrets.

And that was a week ago today. It seems I am the only one left. I often thought of pulling the trigger on myself a few times. But I stopped myself, knowing that I wanted to make it out. The night of the first attacks, as the police were being devoured, three helicopters arrived and at least 125 soldiers arrived. Seeing the umbrella on the side of the chopper gave me the tip that they were the U.B.C.S. Umbrella's own strike force. And mostly all of them were killed in less then 3 hours, hahahaha. No one can stop the "freaks". No one. They run this town now. They are the judges, they are the jury, and they are the executioners. And they are very good at their jobs.