Dr.William Birkin
David slumped against the wall, the pain of the concussion ringing in his mind. Alexandra stared down at him, fear and doubt in her brown eyes. "Don't even ask..I'll answer it for you...." David sighed, "Yes..he was correct..I am..or..should I say WAS..one of the pawns in the big chess game Isis and Blair were playing...I could try to explain why..but you probably wouldn't understand...I guess I'm just a horrible person..that..and you have no idea of the things they said they could do for me.." continued David, the depression now crushing him fully. "David..no...you...you cant be like them.." said Alex, turning her face away from him. "Yes..I suppose I am...a murderous traitor....but I wont trouble you or your friends with the execution.." he said quietly, pressing the berretta to his head and pulling the trigger.
The click of the empty magazine echoed off of the walls of the stairwell. "David..now now...suicide is NEVER the answer..." said a voice from somewhere off in the darkness. Right on time..just like a nightmare that comes back to haunt me... , David turned to face the speaker on the wall above him. "Now..you have two options...surrender now..lay down your weapons..and we can make a deal...you come work for us...we kill those whiny little pricks...and I make sure Alexandra ISN'T shot to death by the cleaner troops..come on..we've still got a chance..." laughed Markenson's voice. "THEY ACTUALLY TRUST THE ISIS TROOPS! They think they've come to...get this..SAVE THEM ALL...". Laughter echoed off of the walls. "You are a murderous scumbag..and now you've come to the end. I don't care if I die in the process..I'm going to kill you..DO YOU HEAR ME!" yelled David, his voice echoing off of the walls, tears of rage and hatred welling up in his eyes..hatred of Piers, hatred of Isis and Blair, hatred of Markenson, and hatred of himself. "Fine David, have a temperamental little fit..I really didn't want to have to kill you..no, I was growing to like you in fact..you showed so much potential...unfortunately..you had to let personal feelings get in the way of your destiny...I can only keep you from harm for so long...my superiors grow quite tired of this whole little drama that's unfolding...but, I will give you some friendly advice...right now..on the first floor....the REAL "cleaners" have arrived..the finest assassins Isis has to offer..and they have orders to kill whoever they deem a threat..since Ryan and the other one have vacated the premises...that means YOU..surrender David...surrender, or you WILL die...those are the only options....". the intercom switched off.
David slammed a clip into the Beretta, pulling the slide back and walking down the stairs. "DAVID...wait! Didn't you hear him?! You'll be killed if you go down there..." screamed Alexandra, a wave of unexpected concern coming over her. David turned, his eyes burning coldly with intense anger "That's what I'm hoping for...then again..maybe not..if I don't come back..well..I'm pretty sure its obvious how I feel about you...". David walked deeper into the shadowy depths of the stairwell..
4 heavily armed paramilitary personnel ran through the devastated city hall entrance, m4 carbines sweeping the hall. "Spread out...I will cover this hall.." said a dark suited figure, acting in the command role. "YES SIR, MOVE OUT, TARGET AND ELIMINATE!" the soldiers moved out quickly, boots clicking on the floor.
The ground floor door swung open. The Isis commando leader fell to one knee aiming his weapon, a desert eagle .44 "STOP RIGHT THERE.." said the figure in a cold, pitiless voice. "Or you'll do what..shoot me? Good..please...death would be an ideal release..." said the figure in the shadows. "STOP RIGHT THERE OR I WILL FIRE.." reiterated the assassin, anger showing itself. "Now, now..there's no need to yell..." David responded, firing 3 rounds from his Beretta, the flash illuminating the shadowy entrance. The man rolled out of the way, jumping for cover behind a desk as the bullets shattered tile under where he had been standing. "JESUS CHRIST..WHO THE HELL ARE YOU..DO YOU HAVE SOME KIND OF DEATH WISH?!" screamed the assassin, firing two unarmed rounds at the doorway, both missed.
"Think of me as a virus....a virus circulating in the corrupt veins of your sick little plans...and yeah..I guess I do have a death whish...". David sighed, refusing to show any fear..and walked out into the open, prepared to die as long as he got to take some of those bastards out with him....
Jill Valentine
How do I let go when I've loved him for so long and I've given him all I could?
Maybe love is a hopeless crime, giving up what seems a life time, what went wrong with something once so good?
How do you find the words to say,
Goodbye,
When your heart don't have the heart to say,
Goodbye....
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The pain throbbed steadily in her chest.
The blood continued to swarm out of the open wound, and it didn't seem to want to stop. She felt the beats of her heart gradually slow down to a silent, yet rhythmic beat. Jarred held the syringe in his hand, getting ready to insert the blue liquid into her arm. Vanessa flinched her arm back, refusing to let him inject her with the serum.
"Please let me do it,"Jarred pleaded, trying to hold her arm steady.
"No...it, won't, work." she breathed weakly. "I, was, shot...not, bitten..."
Jarred knew she was right. He knew that she was in an extremely critical situation, the bullet had just inched her heart as is whipped through her chest. He just didn't want to believe the serum wouldn't cure her; because he didn't want her to die. John and Winsor stood back in awe, watching Vanessa struggle for her life, a sense of deep sympathy and sincerity relevant in their endless gaze.
"It's, my time to, go Jarred." she finally said, tears forming in her eyes. The green speckles flourished beautifully in her deep, ocean blue eyes, and Jarred caught his reflection in them as he watched salty tears stream down her flushed cheeks.
"No, I promised you'd make it out of here, and I keep my word!"he responded, his tone growing more furious at the sight of her wickedly painful eyes. "You'll be okay, just believe in yourself and me okay."
Vanessa managed a smile, as she ran her bloody fingers across his distressed, rugged face.
"When skies above you, start to pour, and all of your doubts, rain like a storm, and you can't fight the pain anymore, just let go..."
Her smile slowly weakened, and her hand dropped peacefully by her side, the gentle breeze whizzing through her silky auburn hair; the blood finally stopping. Everything froze. Time had already began to run out.
City of the Dead
CNN News building, Atlanta, Georgia
November 23, 2001
8:10 A.M.
Laura Andrews rushed around the offices, many secretaries answered phones that rung constantly, ever since the satellites were interrupted with that bizarre video clip, the place had been flooded with calls from confused civilians and businesses a like.
Not to mention several sponsors that weren't too thrilled about having their ad time interrupted by what seemed like some Night of the living dead flick.
She had no idea what was going on, she didn't know if some kind of signal was trapped in the system and it had filtered through the other ones, or if it was some kind of malfunction, all she knew was that she was stressed out and had a serious headache.
This is crazy, why can't everyone just forget about it, it was probably nothing more than an error in the program.
She went into her office and closed her door, where most of the noise couldn't filter through. She sat down at her desk, yanking open a bottle of aspirin and downing two pills, chasing it with a Dr. Pepper out of the coke machine in the lounge. All of a sudden, Greg opened up her door.
"We've got something else" Greg stuttered, his hair was a little frizzy and his suit was untidy.
Greg was a college graduate who was instantly promoted as lead journalist, apparently he was good. He was fairly younger than almost everyone there, so his work environment was often full of age-related tensions.
"What is it?" Laura mumbled.
"We got some new info, a broadcast was made about ten minutes ago by a Vanessa Williams from a city in Colorado, apparently something has happened there that no one seems to know about. We picked it up on our scanner, before we lost the signal, we heard laughter and gun shots, so something must be happening. I think it may have something to do with that satellite interruption earlier." He said excitedly.
"Any more details than that?" Laura asked.
"Yeah, the phone lines to the city are down; there's no way to make contact" Greg said.
"Should we send someone in to check it out?" Greg asked.
"For now Greg, stay on this okay?" Laura said shoeing him out of her office.
She laid her head down on her desk and thought.
What is going on? A whole city, no communications, and now some kind of burst transmission, things don't add up. Nothing we can do, except wait to see what happens...
Jarred stared in complete disbelief. The room was in complete silence, almost in a surreal, dream-like state, no one moved or said anything. Vanessa lay lifeless on the third floor of a practically destroyed news building. Even the vaccine Jarred injected before she lost consciousness was ineffective now.
Jarred kissed her on the forehead, and stood up.
"Jarred...I'm...Sorry man" John said, trying to console him.
"Yeah" Jarred said in a low, saddened tone. He walked past John and Winsor and headed out into the debris filled hallway.
"What are you doing?" John asked, following him out of the room.
"Take care of yourselves" Jarred said, keeping up his pace.
"What? Where are you going?" John yelled again.
"I hope you guys make it out of town...and start a new life" Jarred said.
"Your not leaving in a Nathan or Ryan blaze of revenge or courage are you?" John said.
"No...I'm after nothing, its over for me, just get out while you guys still can. There are a few unmapped, old mountain roads that lead into and out of the city. Several of them take you to other highways past the mountains, and some are just broken off somewhere, find those and follow them out of here. It's been a pleasure knowing you guys" Jarred said.
John ran down the hall, jumping past Jarred and standing in his way.
"Move John" Jarred said.
"No...Look, I'm sorry about Vanessa, I know how you felt about her, but we can all make it out of here, we have too, what happened to the determination I saw back at Warren High?" John asked.
"I no longer have a motive for survival, my only goal was to get her out alive and I've failed" Jarred quickly responded.
John couldn't think of anything to say he was really bad at these situations and rarely gave good advice, he didn't want Jarred to leave, but then again, he didn't know how to stop him.
"John, it's been a pleasure, get yourselves out of here" Jarred said.
John watched helplessly as He walked down the condemned stairs and out of sight. Now they were down to only two.
Only two, out of eight, Nathan and Ryan are gone, Alex and David went missing at the park, Vanessa just died, and now Jarred has wondered off as well, probably with a suicidal attitude.
At about that time, Winsor stepped out into the hallway and found a motionless John who was standing by the stairs.
"What do we do now?" She asked.
"I...I don't know, to tell you the truth, I don't know" John said, still shocked by the unfolding events. Everything was falling apart, things couldn't get any worse...
The helicopter hadn't been in the air for more than a minute. Ryan was surrounded by identically dressed guards and finally coming face to face with Piers.
"So you're the one who made the broadcast if I'm not mistaken" Piers growled.
He didn't answer; he acted like he wasn't even paying attention to the madman.
"Your friends will come, and they too, shall meet what I have in store for you" Piers chuckled lightly.
Ryan looked out over the soldier next to him, barely seeing out of the window, but he could tell that he was nearing the mountains, which housed much of the industrial district of town.
"Sergeant, please make Ryan a bit more comfortable" Piers said.
Ryan felt a sharp stinging pain in his neck, it was obvious, he was hit with some kind of tranquilizer. His thoughts quickly faded, and he fell unconscious.
Piers' plan was finally on the right track. Ever since Markenson had sort of disappeared. He was finally going to defeat those surviving kids, and to top it all off he had new strengths and powers thanks to the augmentation machine. It didn't give him the appearance or body altering changes he thought it would have, but he knew that it wouldn't really be necessary. His strength and Speed were radically increased, as well as his endurance. He chuckled lightly, he would bring Ryan and lure all the others to the mountains, and there, he would pit them against his most ultimate creation...
Joker
Ryan started to stir a couple of hours later with one of the worst headaches he had ever experienced. It was so bad, it was making his vision almost pitch black... or was it really that dark?
Feeling around for anything that might bring light into the place, Ryan only found wall. Stone, stone, stone and metal. One exit in this room and it was closed. He knew calling for help was pointless. Nobody could help him now. He was in Blair's hands now and they could do whatever they wanted with him.
As Ryan felt around in futility for a light switch or a loose piece of wall or anything to make the darkness go away, he felt something cold. As his eyes started to accustom to the dark and his headache started to recede, the thing came into focus. It was a very familiar sight to Ryan even though he had not seen this person in years. Now that he saw it here, the thread his sanity clung to was strained severely.
Laying in the corner was the preserved corpse of Joanna Bartlett.
Ryan gasped in shock and backed up against the opposite wall. This couldn't be happening. Blair might have been sick enough to turn the populace into the undead, but forcing one to look upon their dead relative whose demise was only known to them less than a day ago was just cruel and twisted.
It was then Ryan heard the sharp grating of metal and a glimmer of light filled the room.
"Oh, I see you've gotten acquainted with your new roommate", the voice of Piers taunted on the other side of the door.
"You sick bastard!" Ryan yelled, slamming his fists on the door, making a loud clang.
"Now, now, save your energy. One usually requires rest after sedation. You'll burn yourself out", Piers said calmly.
"Why? Why this?", Ryan demanded angrily.
"Well, she was in the morgue and I found out I had the brother of one of my victims in custody. So, I arranged a family reunion. You should be thanking me. I took her straight from cold storage to your cell", Piers replied, a hint of madness entering his voice.
"Yeah, I'll thank you. Step inside this fucking cell and I'll thank you, you psychotic bastard... You can't even kill them yourself, you have to take credit for other's hard work. What kind of fucked up maniac are you?"
"One with an alias", Piers replied. "I thought someone might stumble upon that document sooner or later. Who'd have thought it'd be her own brother?". With the irony of the situation, Piers had to laugh. "She was just as guilty as I am. She helped create the virus. The only problem was she started to develop a conscience, so I resolved the situation. Isn't that what you do, Ryan? Resolve situations?"
As Ryan turned away in disgust, all he could say was, "Don't compare yourself to me, you fucking wacko. I'm nothing like you, nor will I ever be."
Piers paused for a moment, just to let that information sink in, then said, "James Bartlett... Have you heard that name, Ryan?"
Ryan froze at the mention of his father. Emergency services were going ballistic after this outbreak. "Not Dad too...", Ryan thought, his heart rate jumping about 20 beats per minute.
"Why do you want to know? One of my family you haven't fucked with yet and you want to make a clean sweep?!?", Ryan snarled, staring holes into Piers' skull, all the while thinking, "Just come in here. Just for a minute. I won't kill you... quickly... I promise I'll make it as long and drawn-out as possible".
"Oh, it's just that we went picking through some of the remains of the Gaines PD blockades. We found one that matched your father's description, even though dental records were the only way to identify it. Even stranger was the bullet he had taken to the stomach. Oops."
Piers cackled madly as Ryan clearly started to suffer a mental meltdown.
"It was as if someone shot him and then left him to the zombies... still alive and in great pain...", Piers added, before shutting the hatch and leaving Ryan in the dark.
"You rat-fuck son-of-a-bitch!", Ryan screamed as he started ramming the door with his shoulder. The sheer anger and hatred consuming his thoughts masked any sign of pain. He kept ramming the solid metal over and over until, finally, his rage-inhibited mind realized that it was all a waste of effort. He wanted it all to stop. His whole family now confirmed dead. Their murderer outside imprisonment and him in it. Ryan, completely unable to gain retribution, nor able to even escape. Because of the cell's design, he couldn't even kill himself!
Right now, he would have done anything to make it stop. But there was nothing he could do. Nothing but look at his dead sister and wait for the frayed thread of his sanity to break once and for all...