*Reminder - I do not own the RE series/title or the characters.
Thanks to those who read and reviewed. Also, I'm sorry for the many
uploads of Ch.2 - Seeking Help. Format wasn't right after I'd posted it.
Thanks.
Anthony and Dylan proceeded into Clint's house. The dogs could be heard in the backyard kennel as they closed the door behind them. The kitchen area was shrouded in darkness. Anthony reached for the light switch and flipped it.
"Madre de Dios!" Dylan yelled.
Clint was sitting in a chair slumped over the bar. There was a little bit of blood that trickled down the barstools legs and onto the floor.
"Mother of God, indeed." Anthony said as he walked over to Clint's corpse. "You think he's completely dead?"
"I'm not sure." Dylan answered as he walked to the Clint's room. "I'm going to check back here for his rifles."
Anthony followed Dylan into the room. All the guns that used to line the wall were gone all except for two. Dylan grabbed the one that was hanging on the pegs and Anthony grabbed the one that was on the floor. Anthony dropped it as soon as he picked it up. The one on the floor was covered in blood on the opposite side.
"Hey go check his body for bullet wounds, Dylan."
Dylan walked back into the kitchen. The floor boards squeaked underneath his feet. Dylan grabbed Clint by his hair and sat him up. There was something that looked like a entry wound from the shotgun Anthony picked up.
"Yeah, he's been shot. Do you think he did it?"
Anthony nodded. "It's very likely. Anything else is better than being one of those mindless creatures. Poor fool."
Dylan walked back into the room. "Are there any rounds left in the shotty?"
"Yes, just one though."
As soon as he said that something sounded like it fell to the ground. Dylan peeked his head around the door way.
"Shit! Clint is on the move." Dylan said as he put his K-Bar up and cocked the rifle.
Anthony cocked the last shell into the chamber and walked out ahead of Dylan. As soon as he reached the bathroom Clint jumped out and attacked him. Dylan shot but only hit the door entrance to the spare bedroom. Anthony slightly lost his balance. He kicked Clint in the stomach, which sent him stumbling back into the hallway. He aimed the shotgun at Clint's rotting face and pulled the trigger. With a loud boom reverberating through the house, his head exploded giving the white walls a new paint job. Clint's body slammed up against the wall and slid down it leaving a blood streak. Anthony dropped the blood soaked shot gun and ran off into the bathroom.
"What's wrong?" Dylan asked.
"I'm cleaning my hands. I'm not sure if this blood is infectious or not. I don't want to take the chance."
"That's understandable." Dylan voice faded away as he walked by. He raised his voice a little bit. "Are you going to take that shotgun?"
Anthony answered as he walked out the bathroom. "Nah, it's empty. It's of no use to me now."
Anthony looked around the living area for anything useful. His search was in vain.
"Let's go."
Anthony opened the door and proceeded back into the rainy evening. Dylan followed with his new rifle in hand.
"Where are we heading to now, Chief?" Anthony asked.
"We could either go into town or to the police station."
Anthony started up the vehicle and backed out. When he hit the end of the driveway there was a thud that hit the back end of the Jeep. "What the hell was that?"
Dylan looked at Anthony. "Probably another one of our walking dead pals."
Anthony drove off looking into the review mirror. Dylan was right. Another zombie lay in the middle of the road. Anthony didn't even stop at the stop sign and made an immediate left back onto Viola Street. He then turned onto the Park Avenue and made his way towards town.
"Too bad about Clint, huh?" Anthony asked.
"Yeah, it's a shame really." Dylan replied.
There was a moment of silence between them. The silence was broken when a living person ran out into the middle of the road. Anthony slammed on the brakes. Dylan hopped out into the frigid rain. The woman had been badly wounded. Her top was torn nearly exposing a breast. The white sweater she wore was soaked in blood. She was frantically speaking to Dylan. Anthony still inside the Jeep could not hear the conversation. She then began to walk away from Dylan and dropped to the ground. Dylan went to her aid. He checked her pulse looked up and Anthony and mouthed the word 'Dead'. Dylan climbed back in.
"What was she screaming about?"
"She was too frantic from bleeding to death. All I picked up was something about town, people. She didn't specify if they were dead or alive though." Dylan paused then looked at Anthony. "Should we check it out?"
"Yeah, we should. Maybe we could get some answers out of someone about what the fuck is going on in this town."
Anthony sped off down Park Avenue once again. He made a right on Jake Street. He passed in front of the local McDonalds. It was dead as it could ever be. Anthony stopped the Jeep at the corner of Jake and Laurel Avenue. Laurel Avenue ran right through the middle of town. It was really the only way out of town, but nothing could compare with what their eyes were set upon on this rainy evening.
There was another moment of silence between the two, but not for their friend Clint. They both stepped out into the rain and gazed in amazement at what they were looking at in the streets.
Anthony and Dylan proceeded into Clint's house. The dogs could be heard in the backyard kennel as they closed the door behind them. The kitchen area was shrouded in darkness. Anthony reached for the light switch and flipped it.
"Madre de Dios!" Dylan yelled.
Clint was sitting in a chair slumped over the bar. There was a little bit of blood that trickled down the barstools legs and onto the floor.
"Mother of God, indeed." Anthony said as he walked over to Clint's corpse. "You think he's completely dead?"
"I'm not sure." Dylan answered as he walked to the Clint's room. "I'm going to check back here for his rifles."
Anthony followed Dylan into the room. All the guns that used to line the wall were gone all except for two. Dylan grabbed the one that was hanging on the pegs and Anthony grabbed the one that was on the floor. Anthony dropped it as soon as he picked it up. The one on the floor was covered in blood on the opposite side.
"Hey go check his body for bullet wounds, Dylan."
Dylan walked back into the kitchen. The floor boards squeaked underneath his feet. Dylan grabbed Clint by his hair and sat him up. There was something that looked like a entry wound from the shotgun Anthony picked up.
"Yeah, he's been shot. Do you think he did it?"
Anthony nodded. "It's very likely. Anything else is better than being one of those mindless creatures. Poor fool."
Dylan walked back into the room. "Are there any rounds left in the shotty?"
"Yes, just one though."
As soon as he said that something sounded like it fell to the ground. Dylan peeked his head around the door way.
"Shit! Clint is on the move." Dylan said as he put his K-Bar up and cocked the rifle.
Anthony cocked the last shell into the chamber and walked out ahead of Dylan. As soon as he reached the bathroom Clint jumped out and attacked him. Dylan shot but only hit the door entrance to the spare bedroom. Anthony slightly lost his balance. He kicked Clint in the stomach, which sent him stumbling back into the hallway. He aimed the shotgun at Clint's rotting face and pulled the trigger. With a loud boom reverberating through the house, his head exploded giving the white walls a new paint job. Clint's body slammed up against the wall and slid down it leaving a blood streak. Anthony dropped the blood soaked shot gun and ran off into the bathroom.
"What's wrong?" Dylan asked.
"I'm cleaning my hands. I'm not sure if this blood is infectious or not. I don't want to take the chance."
"That's understandable." Dylan voice faded away as he walked by. He raised his voice a little bit. "Are you going to take that shotgun?"
Anthony answered as he walked out the bathroom. "Nah, it's empty. It's of no use to me now."
Anthony looked around the living area for anything useful. His search was in vain.
"Let's go."
Anthony opened the door and proceeded back into the rainy evening. Dylan followed with his new rifle in hand.
"Where are we heading to now, Chief?" Anthony asked.
"We could either go into town or to the police station."
Anthony started up the vehicle and backed out. When he hit the end of the driveway there was a thud that hit the back end of the Jeep. "What the hell was that?"
Dylan looked at Anthony. "Probably another one of our walking dead pals."
Anthony drove off looking into the review mirror. Dylan was right. Another zombie lay in the middle of the road. Anthony didn't even stop at the stop sign and made an immediate left back onto Viola Street. He then turned onto the Park Avenue and made his way towards town.
"Too bad about Clint, huh?" Anthony asked.
"Yeah, it's a shame really." Dylan replied.
There was a moment of silence between them. The silence was broken when a living person ran out into the middle of the road. Anthony slammed on the brakes. Dylan hopped out into the frigid rain. The woman had been badly wounded. Her top was torn nearly exposing a breast. The white sweater she wore was soaked in blood. She was frantically speaking to Dylan. Anthony still inside the Jeep could not hear the conversation. She then began to walk away from Dylan and dropped to the ground. Dylan went to her aid. He checked her pulse looked up and Anthony and mouthed the word 'Dead'. Dylan climbed back in.
"What was she screaming about?"
"She was too frantic from bleeding to death. All I picked up was something about town, people. She didn't specify if they were dead or alive though." Dylan paused then looked at Anthony. "Should we check it out?"
"Yeah, we should. Maybe we could get some answers out of someone about what the fuck is going on in this town."
Anthony sped off down Park Avenue once again. He made a right on Jake Street. He passed in front of the local McDonalds. It was dead as it could ever be. Anthony stopped the Jeep at the corner of Jake and Laurel Avenue. Laurel Avenue ran right through the middle of town. It was really the only way out of town, but nothing could compare with what their eyes were set upon on this rainy evening.
There was another moment of silence between the two, but not for their friend Clint. They both stepped out into the rain and gazed in amazement at what they were looking at in the streets.
