Chapter 3: Pandemonium
September 26th, 1998- 7:55 P.M.
Grill 13, Downtown Raccoon City.
I pulled my Olds up next to the curb outside grill 13. It had taken me about 35 minutes from the precinct to grill 13, pushing through the traffic that littered the streets of downtown Raccoon. The business district of Raccoon, which consisted of Uptown Raccoon and Downtown Raccoon, was in complete pandemonium. People raced home trying to beat the 9 o'clock curfew, while businesses closed shop early. I was the only casual stroller, grill 13 hadn't closed yet and in fact it never closed, opened 24 hours.
I walked through the double doors of the diner and looked around, there weren't many people in the place but tell me something else new; with the cannibal attacks going on and such. There was a guy sitting in a both in the far corner to my right, which I found out to be Frank. I walked over to him and sat down across from him in the booth. He sat reading a copy of the Raccoon Times and nursing a cup of coffee. His radio was lying next to him on the table, spewing out a mixture of static and chatter. I picked up a menu and leafed through it.
" Any word on the cannibal attacks?" I asked him.
" 3 more in the last hour." He replied frowning at the paper. he folded up his newspaper and taking a sip of his coffee. "It's being broad-casted live on the local news." He pointed to a Tv mounted in the opposite corner. There was a 21 FIRST ACTION NEWS placeholder on the screen at the moment. A large, portly waitress bustled over to our table.
" Can I take your order?" She asked.
" Coffee." I replied.
" Anything else?"
" No. Not now." I finished.
She gave me an odd look and hustled away. I rubbed my temples, I had a hell of a headache.
" Got any aspirin?" I asked Frank.
" Huh?" He asked, looking up from his coffee.
" Aspirin. Got any?" I repeated.
" Yeah sure. Here"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, white bottle of Safsprin. I popped off the lid and gulped down too, the medicinal taste sticking to the roof of my mouth, bitter.
" How's your brother Ryan?" Frank asked me.
" Nathan? He's fine. He just got promoted to Lieutenant."
" I notice he's a bit young to be in S.W.A.T. Say how old is he?"
" About 23, 2 years younger than me." I replied. The waitress came back with a cup and a pot of coffee and poured me a cup. I thanked her as she walked away. " The only reason why he's in swat is because he was in the corps for 4 years before then. Why did you ask anyway?"
" Well considering if we have a mass outbreak of cannibals, the chief will most definitely call in swat." Frank replied.
" Ah crud." I replied. " Just what ma needs, another dead cop in the family."
" What do you mean?" Frank asked me.
" My dad was N.Y.P.D." I replied relating an old story. " He was killed on duty in a drug bust. It was some Rastifarian punk dealer with an Uzi that got him. Just 5 years ago too, Ma was devastated."
" Wow." Frank said in awe. "I'm sorry."
" Don't really matter." Replied. " Nathan was always liked by my old man more than me. I more came from my ma's side. He sent me to the academy though, but I never joined the nypd. Nathan was always close to me for some odd reason so he left the corps and joined the R.P.D. swat. Go figure."
Suddenly two gunshots rang out in the distance, sounded like from behind the resturaunt.
" The hell?" Frank said craning his neck to look out the window. Suddenly a crash rang out in the kitchen, it sounded like a door being slammed opened, and then another of a stack of plates being shattered. Somebody in the kitchen started screaming
" HOLY SH- AGGH AGGH! HELP ME SOMEBODYPLEASE HE-." The screaming was cut short by the sound of sinew and muscle being torn apart.
" Fuck! Kid let's get out of here." Frank said picking up his radio and pocketing it.
" No I'm going to go see what it is!" I replied pulling out my Berreta. I kept it pointed to the floor and hurried over to the kitchen entrance. I looked through the small order window into the kitchen. All I could see was the face of a man lying on the floor, the lower half of this body shrouded by a metal counter. He had greasy string hair, and a pudgy face, he was probably the cook. I could here something, like a dog's teeth tearing into a raw bloody steak.
" Cripes another one." I breathed. I flipped the safety off my Berreta and slowly walked around the corner. It seemed deserted in the kitchen, the only sounds were hamburgers frying on the grill and the wet smacking shredding sound. I slowly inched around the corner-
And I came face to face with it.
The creatures hair was matted with dirt and grime and it's skin was ashy and decaying, just like the zombie I had put down in the morgue, but instead it wore a black business suit. It's bony fingers clutched onto my shoulders as it's yellowed gleaming teeth inched closer and closer to my neck!
" FUCK OFF!" I screamed, using my free hands to fire into its abdomen. The zombie staggered back after 4 shots, and fell backwards knocking into another cannibal munching on the cook lying on the floor. The one on the floor looked up at me with its soulless eyes, blood splattered all over its face, it's clothes were tattered. It let out a moan of sorrow and hunger.
And then I noticed we were fucked.
The grill was filling up with the undead as the filed in through the back door, it looked like there were 6 or so of them in the kitchen. They all had the same decayed skin and soulless eyes, wearing tattered remnants of clothing that was splattered with blood from the wounds on their necks or their chests or there stomachs. I turned and fled, Frank stood in the doorway into the dining area, his .44 drawn. I slammed into him and pulled him along.
" Let's get the fuck out of here!" I screamed, dragging him along like a dog. He stumbled along behind me, his tie flailing.
I slammed through the entrance doors into the dark September night. I looked down the street at where the construction was going on down near the movie theater and saw a group of more zombies, maybe about 4, stumbling towards us; in the light of the marquee. Frank ran to his car, which was a brand new Cadillac and much nicer than my olds, and started fumbling with the keys. He dropped them and let out a curse, crouching down to retrieve them he didn't notice the zombies stumbling towards him from inside the Restaurant.
" Frank forget the car and let's go!" I screamed dragging him up off the ground. A zombie wearing overalls from the Restaurant group lurched ahead, stumbling over and falling on its face. It gripped my partner's leg, and inched forward straining to take a chomp out of his leg.
" Shit!" Frank screamed, firing at the zombies. The .44 slug tearing straight through its skull, splattering brain matter all over Frank's pant leg.
" This is a new fucking suit!" Frank screamed rather futile at the corpse on the ground. I yanked him over to my car on the curb, on the other side of the street opposite the grill and plunked him down on the sidewalk, his back leaning to the passenger's side door. I holstered my piece and pulled my car keys out, walking over to the trunk. I unlocked the trunk and pulled out my ride along shotgun; a Remington 870 with a pistol grip and no stock, an R.P.D issue scattergun. I then walked back over and pulled Frank up off the ground, smacking him out of his daze. The undead were getting closer.
" Get in." I commanded yanking the passenger side door open. He nodded quickly and got in obediently. I guess different people act differently in various situations, but this is an outbreak not psychology 101.
I jumped up on top of the hood and fired at the closest zombies; a shell of a man wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. The shotgun blast sent it reeling back into the other group. I racked another shell into the chamber and hopped off the hood. The grill pack kept coming towards me, walking right over the guy in the t-shirt, which I had successfully tore a hole into his stomach with a round of buckshot. I aimed at the group and fired again, the shot tearing into two of the lead ones knocking them back. The last three kept coming towards me. I yanked over the driver's side door and jumped in slamming it shut.
" Time to go." I said handing the shotgun over to Frank. He took it and holstered his revolver. I started the engine and gunned it. Frank switched on his radio and made a call out.
" This is car 508, we have a code 4-1 I repeat a code 4-1. Retreatign due to overwhelming numbers of cannibals. Requesting backup at Grill 13 in Downtown Raccoon City to avoi9d further attacks."
September 26th, 1998- 8:06 p.m.
R.P.D front gates, Downtown Raccoon City
My car lurched to a sudden stop as we pulled up in front of the precinct. Night had fallen, and the dark clouds were mixing in with gray ones, in the distance I could hear gunshots. The day of judgement was unfolding right before our very eyes. I put the car in park and stopped Frank from getting out.
" What?" He asked surprised.
" Got your back-up?" I asked him.
" Listen, I may be getting old but I don't forget my gun at home. So don't lecture me rookie, I ain't that feeble minded."
" Rookie? I asked. " Who just saved your ass back there?"
" I could've handled it on my own, so stop treating me like an old man!" He barked.
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a Kahr P9, with a nickel-plated slide and a black matte' frame. I also had the same one, my uncle a former cop in the N.Y.P.D., bought me a pair of those guns as a graduation gift. I gave one to Frank when the chief started yelling at him for not carrying a backup piece and his old .38 snub nose revolver kept failing on him. Which even I admitted, it was strange for a Smith and Wesson cylinder to swing open when firing. I guess it was a manufacturer defect. He now carried the Kahr P9 in a holster on his belt.
" Happy he asked?" Putting the gun back. I nodded.
" That means I get the shotgun." I said finally getting out of the car. Frank just looked at me all steamed and followed suit. I yanked open the rusting doors to the courtyard, and walked on through with Frank at my heels as the gate banged shut behind us. Sitting on one of the low walls next to the grassy part were two patrol guys, drinking coffee. One had a buzz cut and that other was unshaven and had lengthy hair, I think his name was Kevin but I didn't know who the one with the buzz cut.
" Pretty messed up shift today eh?" Kevin asked the buzz cut, sipping his coffee as we plodded past. The one with the buzz cut replied nodding his head and said:
" Yeah, I had to work two bloody shifts today! Back to back." The buzz cut replied with his arms folded across his chest. " I wonder when that new guy Leon gets here…"
We walked into the main lobby of the police precinct, the place was in disarray. Desk cops and patrol boys walked to and throe between the east and west wing. The all call intercom was working, spewing out directions and orders. Frank headed over to the East wing door.
" Hey I'll catch up with you later okay?" He called back to me. I nodded as he pulled the door open and stepped through.
" Attention, all Primary S.W.A.T. Members are on call and to be dispatched to the Raccoon City shopping mall in 20 minutes. All secondary kit-up S.W.A.T. teams are on standby. All shifts are now running over time. Repeat, all Primary S.W.A.T. Members are on call and to be dispatched to the Raccoon City shopping mall in 20 minutes. All secondary kit-up S.W.A.T. teams are on standby. All shifts are now running over time" Came one of the calls. I was shocked when I heard primary S.W.A.T. was on call, my brother Nathan was on primaries. They were the guys who were sent to the situations first when S.W.A.T. was called in and there were only about 20-25 of them. Secondary S.W.A.T. were just the guys who were called in as backup and who were more experienced cops that got kitted up. I walked over to the 20 year-old receptionist Maria who was sitting at the desk in the main hall. She knew me a little bit, I didn't know her too well though.
" May I help you Officer Brewer?" She asked looking up form her terminal computer.
" Yes why is primary S.W.A.T. being sent to the 'coon city mall?" I asked her.
" Oh there is a cannibal outbreak out there." She replied looking back to her monitor. " They've been dispatched to round up and secure the living civilians who are taking shelter inside the mall."
She knew too much for a receptionist.
I turned away from her and walked over to the east wing's door. Spencer my own flesh and blood was going into a cannibal nest. And I remembered what Jill had said;
" Basically if a human is infected with the T-virus in any way they turn into a zombie."
I couldn't let that happen to my brother. I had to warn him, and I only had ten minutes to do so. I hurried over to the eastern wing and yanked the door open. I hurried past a patrol boy coming from inside the detective's division, and stepped through the double blue doors. Inside the detective's division, phones were ringing off the hook, people were shuffling through files and detectives yelled things back and forth between each other. I passed by Frank whom was sitting in his little office with the door opened, he was talking on the phone to someone; Maybe the chief. I decided to do an about face and walked into the office dropping the shotgun on his desk. He looked up at me confused.
" Hold onto it for me for a little bit." I said. He nodded and went back to his phone call. I walked around the corner and literally ran into something. The person stumbled back in surprise and looked at me. I noticed he was in full S.W.A.T. garb including a gas mask. There was a Glock 9mm strapped to their side.
" Sorry my fault." I said dusting myself off. The S.W.A.T. took off his helmet and I immediately recognized my brother Nat. He totally looked different than me, with his short brown hair and goatee. Like I said he took after my father's side.
" Hey Ryan." He said. " Whats up?"
"Nat you heard the call right?"
" Yeah I know were being dispatched to the Raccoon Mall, to take care of some cannibals who attacked the shoppers there." He replied.
" They aren't cannibals, they're fucking real life Zombies, the stuff George Romero movies are made of. If they bite you you'll turn into one of them. Jill Valentine told me."
" Ryan I'm not stupid, there is no such thing as fucking zombies. Christ you watched too much Dawn of the dead when we were kids." He said pushing away and putting on his Gasmask. " And don't listen to Valentine or any of those S.T.A.R.S., they're fucking delusional!"
I watch as my brother opened the break room hall door and slip inside. That wouldn't be the last time I would see my brother. No. I had to warn the chief.
September 26th, 1998- 8:09 p.m.
Brian Irons office, Raccoon City police department 2nd floor
" What do you mean you don't believe me?!" I screamed slamming my fist on the desk. " I'm fucking telling you that these aren't cannibals but actual zombies!"
" When S.T.A.R.S. came back from the mansion they were delusional from fatigue and dehydration." Irons responded. " The possible comprehension that zombies or anything they else saw is utterly hogwash."
I was sitting in Brian's office now across from him at his desk. I had just explained to him about the zombies and Jill's report.
" Yeah well how do you explain Alpha team and Captain Wesker not coming back? Or the giant ass explosion in the forest?" I shot back. " Plus these cannibals are not very lively anymore, and then the bite victim in the morgue my partner and I took down earlier?"
" Alpha team was killed in their chopper crash and Wesker was killed when the mansion exploded to what the arsons investigation led to a gas leak. The only reason why the bodies weren't recovered was because the explosion took everything out in a half-mile radius!" Brian replied.
" Pretty big explosion for a gas leak!" I shot back with. " And what about the zombies-"
" I DONOT WANT OT HEAR OF THIS RUBBISH ABOUT ZOMBIES!" Irons roared. " Ryan Brewer you are the lead detective on the cannibal murders and all I'm hearing form you is campfire tales about zombies! I expect better than this from you! Now get out of my office before I take your shield!"
Pouring steam, I got up from the desk and strode out of his office, slamming the door behind me. That sonovabitch had to know something. Maybe he was being paid off by Umbrella to keep his mouth shut about something. Obviously something was going on in this town behind closed doors, I mean Umbrella basically is the number 1 funder of Raccoon. I think I would check out the water treatment plant across town that Umbrella owned.
And then I remembered…
"Did he get bitten?"
That sadistic bastard knew…and yet he wasn't telling anyone in the station. Umbrella had to be paying him off.
TO BE CONTINUED