Chapter Two: The precinct and the press conference

September 26th, 1998- 7:15 p.m.

Raccoon City Police department-parking lot

I pulled my Oldsmobile up next to the curb, parking it and stepping out. The sun had gone down and the sky had turned to dusk. I walked around the beaten car and up to the back gate, with my key in hand. Unlocking the gate door, I walked through finding Warner standing around talking to the parking lot guard about football this season. He noticed me and said his good-byes to the guard and hurried over to me. Frank Warner was a tall, lanky, brown skinned African American in his mid forties. He wore a dark Grey suit and tie, and had a goatee. He was taller by me by about 6 inches at 6 foot 3.

" C'mon let's go." He commanded tugging at my arm.

" Where?" I asked.

" Get ya cleaned up a bit." He replied pulling me towards the underground parking lot. " There's a press conference, about the cannibal attacks."

" How many have we had so far, inside the city?" I asked him as we walked through the parking garage.

" 9 so far." He replied holding the door into the basement open. We walked past the arm storage and past the generator room into the little hallway that connected with the stairs, and then up the stairs. We walked through the detectives division where everyone was running about, talking on phones and writing down information. Frank took me out into the east wing hall and into the men's bathroom. He stood by me as I splashed cold water on my face, and tore off a piece of paper towel from the dispenser to dry my face.

" Didn't your mama ever teach you how to dress?" Frank asked looking at my leather jacket disgustingly. " And tuck in your shirt."

" I don't ever tuck in my shirt." I replied crumpling up the paper towel and throwing it away. I looked in the mirror at my face, which needed shaved pretty badly. My hair was medium length and parted in the middle. Not too bad, not too bad at all.

" So why am I needed at this press conference anyway?" I muttered straightening my tie. " Isn't that Alpha team's case?"

" Nope, they were suspended remember?" Frank reminded me as we walked out the door. " Homicide has to pick up there half now. Leave the grunt work to S.W.A.T."

" Hey isn't Jill Valentine still in town?" I asked as we walked down the hall towards the conference room. I had to admit I had a thing for Jill, but didn't every guy?

" Yeah I think she's up in the S.T.A.R.S office getting some stuff." Frank replied checking his watch.

" I'll have to go up there and say hello." I piped opening the door into the conference room for Frank. We both walked in as Mayor Warren was up at the podium going through his long-winded speech about how the cannibal attacks are a major unfortunate tragedy and how the attacks would be taken care of and put to rest once and for all. Smug prick, of course everyone could see he was talking out through his ass. Behind him all alone sitting at a folding table was Chief Brian Irons. Frank sat down next to him.

" And now I will open the floor for questions to Detective Brewer, head of the cannibal case." Mayor Warren said

and sat down next to Frank. I was up now to answer the jackal's questions. The room was full of reporters holding notepads or tape recorders and cameramen holding cameras, standing room only. I stepped up to the podium and cleared my throat. I wasn't prepared for this, but I had a good chance at answering all the questions.

" If there are any questions at this time I will gladly entertain them." I spoke into the microphone. As if on cue a million hands flew up. I pointed to a stout balding man all the hands went down.

" Based on the S.T.A.R.S report, are these cannibal attacks related to the Spencer estate conspiracy in anyway?" He asked me.

" As of this time we are uncertain about that." I said. " Next question?"

The hands shot up again. I picked a female reporter in a black suit and tie with auburn hair. The hands went down.

" Is it true that Ben Bertolucci is being held in police custody for having knowledge of a tie to the Spencer estate conspiracy and someone in the local government?" She asked me.

" No. This is highly not true. Ben Bertolucci is being held in police custody for breaking into the station." I replied. " Next question?"

The hands shot up again, and for the entire press conference that's how it went. By my 12th question chief Irons got up and interrupted me.

" Okay I believe that has been enough questions for right now. I assure you all and the citizens of Raccoon City that the police have this situation under control." Irons spoke into the microphone. " Now go home to your loved ones, and remember the 9 o'clock curfew is still in effect. Goodnight."

One by one the reporters and cameramen left through the door, some talking among themselves. They seemed satisfied, more than doubtful. I'd probably find out tomorrow in the papers. Irons walked up to and held out his hand, I shook it.

" Good job Brewer, I think you bought us some time." Irons said in a low voice as the jackals filed out through the door. " Listen I'd hate to have to do this to you, but you're on duty now. Everyone in the station is until this whole thing blows over."

" No problem sir." I replied. " I've nothing else to do at the moment. And I was coming back here anyway."

Irons nodded and walked off as the last cameraman stepped out the door. Michael Warren stepped up to me and shook my hand.

" I have full confidence that that the Raccoon City police department will be able to handle this situation." He said, just like he said before. " Keep up the good work."

He walked away and I found Frank leaning against the empty gas burning stone, which was ridiculously put in the corner of the pressroom for no apparent reason. The stove belonged to a set of 3 gas burners that ran along the wall behind the podium. Another piece that was completely out of place was the chariot portrait in the far back corner, with the metal cog piece built into it. Frank stood up as I approached him.

" Man you look tired." He commented eyeballing me.

" What time is it?" I asked rubbing my temples.

" 7:23." He replied. " Wanna go grab a bite to eat?"

" Yeah sure why the hell not."

As we were walking back to the garage we heard a scream echo from the morgue. Frank and I ran to the double doors just as the coroner, Jason Dinnalli burst through them. He was clutching a bloody scalpel, and his white jacket was smeared in crimson red streaks. I ran up to him and crouched down next to him, as he was covering on the floor hunched up.

" What is it?" I asked him.

He pointed through the open doors with a shaky finger. I looked and found the same terrifying face I had sawn on Tv. It was a different person thought, but none the less a zombie covered in tattered jeans, its dark greasy hair hung limp. Rotting decayed flesh, bony fingers, and milky white eyes. It ambled towards us with its arms outstretched. I jumped up and reached under my coat, drawing my Berretta and aiming it at the creature.

" Stay back!" I commanded. Of course it wasn't listening. " I'm warning you!" I shouted but to no avail. It kept coming for me. I flipped off the safety and cocked back the hammer. And for a brief second I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

And that's when it lunged for me.

I woke up form my trance and pulled the trigger as the zombies open jaw dove for my abdomen. The 9mm hollow point punched into its jaw, knocking it back. The zombie stumbled back, and came at me again. I aimed at it's chest and pulled the trigger.

BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM!

The gunshots echoed off the cold cement walls, and the muzzle fire strobe in the hallway. The creature was pushed back by the gunshots into the morgue and fell over backwards; knocking over a tray of autopsy tools lying on the table, scattering them all over the floor. The creature let out oomph and a moan and just lay there on the floor not moving. I turned back to Jason, my Berretta empty and smoking, and I offered him my hand to help him get up.

" Brewer watch out!" Frank yelled at me. I turned to see him lunge at me, knocking me over. I landed on my back and watched as he raised his Smith and Wesson Model 29, and fired into the morgue.

BLAM!

The .44 round was deafening, as it traveled and landed with a hard sickening, wet smack into the zombie. I got up and dusted myself off. I peeked around the corner into the morgue, the zombie now lay on the ground like before among the sanitized scalpels and sutures. But now the upper half of his head was missing, leaving behind a ragged bloody hole and a splatter of brain matter dripping off the temperature controlled body lockers. I cringed at the sight, and turned to the coroner.

" You bit?" I asked him. He shook his head no. All off a sudden a bunch of patrol cops ran out into the hallway, their weapons drawn. Patrol cops were different from the cops who worked in the department. See the patrol cops were issued high hazard uniforms with kevlar attached to them. On the torso, back and shoulders basically. They were all blue with R.P.D. printed on the front and their badge attached to their right upper arm. They were also were issued a new sidearm; H&K VP70's. The city bought them surplus in liquidation, now that the company heckler and Koch put them out of production. Not only that but they were a good reliable gun, 18 rounds one in the chamber. The desk cops still carried their old Browning High Power 9mm's. This was all instated for the patrol cops soon after the cannibal attacks broke out, seeing as they were in the field and needed better firepower. Leading the Patrol boys was chief Irons.

" Whats going on here?!" He demanded.

" He was attacked by a cannibal sir." I replied standing up and jamming my gun into my holster. Which then I noticed it was still unloaded. I ejected the clip and pulled out a fresh one from the holder under my left arm in my shoulder holster.

" Was he bitten?" Irons asked.

" No sir." I replied slamming a fresh clip into gun and chambering a round. I flipped the safety back on and snapped the gun back into its holster.

" Good work detectives." Irons said shaking my hand and Frank's as he pulled Dinalli. The patrol guys holstered their weapons and clapped their hands. As Frank and I were walking away Irons took a radio from one of the patrol guys and spoke into it.

" Get CSI down here in the morgue." He commanded the dispatcher. " We've got one hell of a mess down here."

Which oddly reminded me I wanted to dorp in and say hi to Jill.

" Hey Frank I'll meet you at Grill 13." I said walking away from him as we reached the garage door.

" Where you going?" He asked me.

" There's someone I need to see." I shot back over my shoulder.

Just as I had figured I had found Jill in the S.T.A.R.S office. She was sitting at her computer flipping through files when I walked in. Immediately on a reflex she closed the file, but then saw it was me.

" Oh hey, Brewer." She said with a sigh of relief, and opened the file back up again. She knew pretty ok from working on the Arklay case together.

" Whats up?" I asked looking over her shoulder to see what was on the screen.

" Oh just grabbing a few things out of the office before I leave for Europe." She said. She was wearing a Dark Blue R.P.D T-shirt and a pair of Blue jeans. I noticed sitting next to her chair on the floor was a file box filled with various things.

" What's all this?" I asked looking through the stuff. Mostly diaries and journals, manuals. Old files and reports related to the Arklay mountain cases.

" Oh just some stuff that Barry and Chris want me to bring to Europe." She replied. I reached into the box and pulled out a stainless steel plated Colt Python .357.

" Just some stuff huh?" I asked playfully, holding up the revolver. She let out a chuckle and stole the revolver back, throwing it into the box with the rest of the things.

" It's Barry's." She replied. " He asked me to mail it to Europe for him, considering it's his. There's also a few model Airsoft pistols he made in that box, you know like the S.T.A.R.S Samurai edge and stuff. Sort of sentimental value for him."

" So why aren't you taking anything else in here?" I asked motioning to the stuff on the desks and the trophies on the shelf. I noticed the team picture hanging next to the Raccoon City PD picture.

" Oh I'm having some people come in here and pack up the rest of the personal possessions." She replied popping a minidisk out of the computer, and shutting the PC off. She put the disk into a plastic case and dropped it into the box with the other things.

" Hey I have a question." I muttered.

" Hmm?" She asked picking up the box and heading towards the door.

" Jill this might be a sore subject for you, but when you guys were in the mansion. The cannibal zombies you encountered, if one bit you did you change into a zombie?" I asked her. She looked at me and set her box down on the computer desk next to the door.

" Yeah." She replied, digging through the box. " Basically if a human is infected with the T-virus in any way they turn into a zombie. Luckily we got there after the virus was spread airborne and we weren't infected." She pulled out a half-inch thick black binder, marked SPENCER ESTATE INCIDENT, JULY 1998, and handed it to me. " That's the entire case. The story told through each of the surviving members eyes, the files collected that were related to the umbrella B.O.W experiments and so forth. Basically almost everything of what happened there that night. Even floor plans." She explained.

" Thanks." I replied looking at the binder.

" Don't mention it. Why did you ask anyway?" She replied.

" Well there was a cannibal my partner and I gunned down downstairs in the morgue." I replied. " I was just wondering incase one of those fuckers bit me."

" Ah." She replied. " I heard the shots, I was wondering what was going on, and then I heard the call through the switchboard right there." She finished motioning to the switchboard next to the gun safe.

" Hey can I help you carry your stuff to your car?" I asked holding out my hand.

" Sure." She replied handing me the file box. It was heavy but I could carry it. She held the door open for me as I walked through and she shut it behind her locking it with the S.T.A.R.S office custom emblem key.

" Wait a second!" I exclaimed. " Don't you want that team photo of Bravo and Alpha?"

" No." She replied. " I think it's time to move on. The Raccoon City S.T.A.R.S are dead."

We reached Jill's car parked outside in the back, a 76 Red Gremlin parked in front of my battered Olds. She opened the back hatch, and I noticed her shirt lift up a little and a Compact Glock tucked in the waistband of her jeans.

" Carrying some protection huh?" I asked placing the box inside the trunk.

" This little thing of course?" She asked holding the gun out in the palm of her hand. " It's a Glock 19, good for concealment. Sides if I ran into a zombie. I'd rather have a .44 or .45 caliber. If possible a .357, but hey even my standard issue Berretta M92FS would be better than this Glock." She slammed the trunk lid closed and slipped the gun back into her waistband. I followed her to the driver's side door and opened it for her. She replied with a simple "thank-you" and got in, I closed the door

" So when are you leaving for Europe?" I asked her through the rolled down window.

" Tomorrow." she replied.

" Wow I'm really going to miss you." I replied. " We never really go to know each other that well."

" Same here." She replied with a sigh. " Listen there's something I want you to have."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a Nickel Plated zippo lighter, and handed it to me. I looked at it, on it was an engraving of an angel throwing an atom bomb. The words; " MADE IN HEAVEN" were engraved in a circle around the picture. On the back it said in cursive letters To Jill.

" Wow Jill I can't take this." I said handing it back to her. She didn't accept it.

" Keep it, I want you to remember me by it." She said starting the car. " See you around Brewer."

" Right back at you." I replied.

She put the car in gear and drove off down Hazel Street and then turned the corner onto Joel Avenue. I looked at the zippo for a while then pocketed. I remembered I was meeting Frank at the Grill 13.

Jill was one hell of a woman, I could tell that right now. Maybe one day we would meet again…maybe…

TO BE CONTINUED