Surviving A Nightmare
Chapter 6: Disagreements/The Introduction of Tyrant
Disclaimer:: I do not own Resident Evil, Capcom does.
'Fuck, how long are they going to argue?' The last hour and a half has been just one big ass headache, not only for me, but for everyone else. Paul and Leon have been at each other's throats ever since the sun went down...which was the same time the back-up light started to flicker. So now, not only were we stranded with hundreds, even thousands, of undead trying to devour us; but we were also running low on gasoline for the generator.
Now, I'm sitting atop the librarian's desk, watching them debate on two subjects. Leon felt that it'd be better if we just stayed there; that help would surely come sooner or later. While Paul, his idea sounded much more reasonable. He felt that someone should go cipher gasoline from a vehicle in the parking lot, then at dawn, try and find a way out of town.
Even as they spoke I was preparing to do just that. With some duct tape found in the storage closet, I'd taped a flashlight to the bottom of the shotgun barrel. It'd certainly make things easier. I would have better control of the gun with both hands, instead of just one. While I was finding gas, it would also be a good idea to check out that secret doorway in Mr. Roy's office.
Sitting there with the shotgun in my lap, I started down at the floor in thought, while my feet occasionally bumped against the wooden desk. First thing, a hose and some sort of gas can would be necessary; which I'm sure those could be found in the generator room. Why not? The room was right there by the Ag. Department. Surely they would have something in there. Second, I'd have to be sure it took regular gas, and not diesel. And third, as much as I hated it, I would need someone to watch my back while I did all this. The thought of a zombie taking a bite out of my neck while I was stealing gas from a car was far from appealing. Okay, it wasn't appealing in any way. The main question was...who'd be willing to go?
"If we wait for help to come, we'll surely be dead you asshole! I know you suffer from being a little slow, but god damn, I didn't know you were that retarded!" Paul shouted. He might have been a short fellow, but he could still be just as intimidating as the jock he was currently bickering with.
"Hah! Oh yeah, let's go along with your idea of going out there with those..those...zombie-things!" Okay, so as the saying goes, "Quantity does not equal quality." Tsk..tsk..that was certainly the thing in Leon's case. Can't blame the poor guy for trying though.
Okay, it was time for this to stop. I had a bad enough headache as it was. What I wouldn't give for just two aspirin. The pain from the wound on my head wasn't as bad as it was before..but it was far from feeling damn skippy, too. Clearing my throat, I looked up at the two, who were staring back at me, along with everyone else. "Are the two of you finished?" I asked in a tired voice.
"Yeah....", they replied in unison.
"Good, " Hopping off the desk, I held the shotgun so that the barrel and flashlight were pointed down at the floor. "I'm going to go extract some gas from one of the vehicles in the parking lot."
"Wha...Are you insane?! Those damn creatures have got to be everywhere by now!" Leon shouted, ignoring the look he was receiving from Paul.
"They are everywhere. It doesn't change anything." I let my gaze drift down to the handgun holstered at my side, and as I remove it from it's holster, I look back up to speak. "I need someone to come with me."
"Huh? Why?"
"To watch my back while I cipher the gas from the car. I can't do that, AND watch my back at the same time." Yeesh, these people could be so dense. Holding up the gun, I look around. "Any volunteers?"
The entire room was quiet. As anyone could see, I was the only one willing...or crazy enough to go out there and square off against those sons-a-bitches. Just as I was about to head over to the door, a quiet voice spoke up somewhat shyly. "I'll go."
"Huh?!" Stopping dead in my tracks, I slowly turned around to find the owner of the voice. As I turned around, my eyes finally came to rest upon the only other person standing, besides myself, Leon, and Paul. That person was one of the people I, along with my small group of friends, disliked the most. Frances Pierce was actually volunteering to help me. 'Should I be relieved that she's helping? Or is this some kind of omen-type thing?' Oh well, no time to ponder these things.
I handed her the Beretta, and realized she didn't know what she was doing. Without even waiting for her to ask, I took the gun once again and began showing her how to fire the weapon, and how to reload. "It's easy. Right now, all you have to do is pull the trigger, because it's already loaded. But, when the clip is empty, all you do is this...", I showed her how to release the clip, then once it was out, I snapped it back into place. "Once you have the fresh clip in, you rack back the slide so you can put a round into the firing chamber. After that, just pull the trigger."
"O..okay. What else am I supposed to do?"
"Just watch behind us. You know, watch my back? It's not brain surgery, so don't worry." Even in the worst times, I could still be quite arrogant. I had to say, I was impressed with myself.
"Smartass..."
"Thank you. Now, enough with the chit chat. Let's go." Turning for the door, I began to walk over to it when I remembered something. "Oh...here." I unhooked a small flashlight from where it was hooked onto a belt loop. "Hold the gun in one hand, and this under it with your other hand."
"Alright." She took it and pressed the small button that turned it on; well, atleast she was a fast learner.
After running straight from the library to the Ag. Department, we now found ourselves searching through the deserted metal workshop for anything we could carry gasoline in. To our luck, we found one resting next to the tractor used to cut the grass, along with several weedeaters and an air compressor. Now, all we needed was some kind of hose. That was easy enough to find. Picking up a nearby wrench, I knelt down next to the air compressor and unscrewed the hose from the compressor.
Now, we were finally on our way. As we exited the Ag. Department, I deducted that the quickest way to the parking lot would be to head right, that way we could easily get to the main hall that lead from the metal detectors, all the way down to the English Dept.
Immediately after turning the corner, the beam of my flashlight revealed a group of four zombies in front of us. Piece of cake. A single shotgun blast, and a quick jab to the head with the combat knife would put them all down. As I stepped forward, Frances had the intuition to look left, instead of focusing on the foes in front of us.
Just after I'd fired a single round from the shotgun, I heard her opening fire on another three zombies that'd been standing a little further down the hallway. Taking a moment to check her progress, I noticed that she'd already dispatched two of the zombies of their rotten brains. Convinced that she could handle the last one, I removed the large combat knife from it's sheath and, being careful to avoid the flailing hands of the monsters before me, I either stepped on their rotten craniums or jabbed the knife's blade through one of their eye sockets.
As I lifted the knife to place it back in it's sheath, I noticed that when I'd removed it from the socket of a zombie's skull, the monster's eyeball had come out with it. Now, the slimy mucus was running down the blade and handle, and onto my hand. I quickly flung the knife to the ground and proceeded nearly wanted to gag at the atrocious sight.
"Sooo, you're not as tough as you pretend to be." Frances stated as she approached me, the Beretta was hanging limply in one hand at her side while she held the flashlight out to go over the damage I'd done to the creatures.
"I have a right to be somewhat afraid. We don't know whether this...virus, or whatever, is simply transmitted through biting; or through the transfer of body fluids." Even though I was sure this sickness wasn't airborne, I didn't want to take the chance that it might simply be spread by that mucus touching even the smallest cut on my hand or arm.
"Good point...", she continued to stare at the knife, before moving her flashlight back to the desimated corprses.
I walked back over to where the knife lay on the floor, and kneeled down to pick it up; not before ripping off a piece of the zombies clothing so I could wipe the projectile weapon off. It was simply too valuable an asset to leave behind.
We finally reached the parking lot after irradicating atleast ten more of the walking dead. As we came out into the open, we stopped dead in our tracks. The night sky was lit up with the orangish glow of fire. Piles of cars were almost stacked on top of one another on the streets that lined the school. The sight of these things only proved that the rest of the city had now been occupied by numerous ammounts of undead.
Now, with the gasoline can in one hand, I walked over to the nearest of the student vehicles and knelt down so I could open the car's gas tank and insert one end of the hose.
"Okay. I'm getting ready to begin, so stay alert. If you as much as see anything coming this way, kill it."
"Okay...."
I picked up the gas can and unscrewed the lid before placing it back on the ground. Now, here came the tough part. I had to make sure I didn't end up swallowing a big gulp of gasoline, because if I did, it was bye-bye Natalie.
"Well, here goes nothin'." I said as if talking to no one. Wrapping a hand around the end of the hose, I pressed my lips to the opening and began to inhale. I repeated this process a couple more times before feeling the gasoline come rushing towards the opening. Removing the hose from my lips, I placed the end inside the can and let the can fill up. That's when we heard it.
In the distance, we could hear the sound of what sounded like a helicopter approaching. As the sound became clearer, it was certain that it was only one chopper.
Quickly removing the hose, I replaced the lid back onto the gas can before looking up. The lights of the chopper seemed to pass right over us. Mere common sense told me that this wasn't a rescue. From the helicopter hung a large capsule of some sort.
Standing up, both Frances and I watched as the capsule was released; while the chopper took off once again. This definitely couldn't be good. The capsule landed mere yards from where we were standing.
Suddenly, the capsule just burst into shards of metal. And there, amongst the remains of the transport capsule, stood one of the most horrendous sights ever.
The creature had to have been genetically engineered in a lab. For nature could never produce something like what we were seeing now. It's head was a grayish color, and from what I could see, it was as smooth and bald as Mr. Clean's. It's eyes were like black, bottomless pits that frankly, could scare the shit out of anyone. Garbed in what looked like specially made armor, maybe Kevlar, I wasn't sure, it looked like some sort of super-soldier. The one thing I couldn't figure out was; what was that thing it held in it's hand. It appeared to be some tall pipe.
When it raised that very arm up, I realised that it wasn't a pipe, but an actual rocket launcher. 'Fuck no!' And, it was aiming it right at us. Without thinking, I quickly picked up the gas can and shotgun, all the time shouting for Frances to run back to the entrance. I didn't have to tell her twice.
After just three strides, I heard the whoosh of a rocket flying from the launcher. That wasn't nearly enough distance to get out of the blast radius. In mere seconds, I felt my body being lifted into the air and thrown forward at an alarming speed. Yet, everything felt as if it was in slow-motion. Before I knew it, I found myself landing atop the hood of a vehicle that was close to the cop car I'd visited earlier.
Once my feet hit the hood, I immediately rolled off the side, the gas can went flying off to the side somewhere in the process; while thankfully the shotgun didn't go anywhere, for it was slung across my shoulder. I wasn't worried about these things too much, for the pain running through, what seemed, my entire body was so immense, I felt as if I was going to lose conciousness. And, sure enough, I found myself slowly crawling towards blackness.
Until finally....that's all I saw as I drifted into unconciousness.
A/N: Okay, I know the introduction of the Tyrant here is similar to the one from RE2. Can you blame me? RE2 is like, the best Resident Evil, besides the Gamecube remake of the original.