RESIDENT EVIL
A N A M N E S I S
Written by Nick Blackford
Based upon Capcom's Resident Evil created by Shinji Mikami
Chapter Two: Fate Has a Funny Way
The bus made its way through mid-town Raccoon City. Streetlights rushed passed, glowing streaks of light dancing behind the window Celeste's head was leaning against. She honestly didn't think she'd be able to make it through the day awake, she imagined it now; asleep at the counter, dead to customers, Leila would come in and catch her sleeping of course.
Thinking about how bad it would be if she lost her job, Celeste went through her bag and pulled out a small bottle of pills. "Stay-A-Wake" tablets were a necessity at times like these; she swallowed a couple, finding it hard to take them without water.
Nathan looked around the bus as it drove, looking out the window had lost its appeal, and there was no one outside to eye up anyway. However, he had spotted Celeste as soon as he'd gotten onto the bus, it was hard not to notice her, she wasn't wearing anything particularly flashy so he'd figured she was probably from one of the less attractive parts of the city.
It didn't matter though; her face was stunning in a simple, beautiful way and even someone as arrogant as Nathan could appreciate that. Her dark complexion and shapely cheekbones had pinned his eyes to hers, hers of course remained focused on the streetlights which were now the main source of light outside.
Lisa had her breath back now. There were only a couple of other people on the bus so embarrassment was minimal. She had sat down after seeing a pretty, slim girl on the bus, which had again led her to thinking about her weight.
Lisa wasn't looking forward to work today, this wasn't unusual and often on the way to work she would fantasize about an extraordinary event stopping her from work in the same way a child would hope to evade school. A freak snowstorm would do, or maybe terrorists could hijack the bus, anything would be okay right about now for Lisa.
As the bus continued at a high speed down the high street, the driver had noticed just how empty the roads were. The bus's lights struggled dimly to illuminate the road ahead. In all his years of bus driving, of which there were twenty-three, Mike had never once seen roads as clear as the ones in front of him now.
Mike drove confidently because of this; it was a route he had driven more times than he cared to think about. Every day an array of people boarded his bus; did one of them remember his face? Out of the hundreds and hundreds of people, not one of them did, and if it weren't for Mike's losses than it wouldn't be a thought that haunted him constantly.
Twenty-five years ago Mike had everything, a beautiful girlfriend, the best friends a man could ask for and a fortune. Michael Sunderland was a well-known name in America twenty years ago, lead guitarist of Project Detour, a hugely successful rock band that consisted of his most treasured of companions.
The band made it big, Mike got rich and found the girl of his dreams. But fate has a funny way of taking away what it gives to the most deserving of people and Mike lost everything. A heroine addiction sucked any goodness straight out of Mike's life and to that day a past that felt like it belonged to another person lay dormant in his memories.
For a man that wanted to forget most of his life, being a bus driver wasn't the best of occupations for Mike as it allowed constant time to think. Now was one of those times.
The black tarmac swept effortlessly, silently beneath the bus, there wasn't another vehicle in sight. Mike checked out the side mirror to his left through the window, nothing. Looking back at the road ahead of him Mike saw, for what can only have been half a second, a figure in the road.
The impact blew any thoughts from Mike's head as glass showered him. The bus span erratically, its bulk and weight thrown completely out of control. The road screamed as the bus threw its passengers from their seats and rattled them inside its metallic belly. Twisting metal squealed as the rubber tires burnt into the road, injecting smoke into the bus. The lights outside, which had seemed distinctively pretty once, were now a nightmarish whirl surrounding the bus as it ground clumsily to a halt.
Finally the bus was still; thin smoke floated through the bus as its passengers lay wrecked among the glass, still as the dead.
