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 Eleven: Derry Downs
The rising sun coldly but brightly lit an approaching sign as the last of the larger buildings shrank away into the distance. 'Welcome to Derry Downs' the old wooden sign had read, it was in need of a lick of paint as were the buildings that surrounded it.
Derry Downs was possibly the most rundown suburb in Raccoon City; it had received no attention from the mayor, the chief of police or any other authority within the city which meant it had never fully prospered. Industrialisation had drawn tourism, money and affluence into the city's center and away from the surrounding suburbs such as Derry.
"This place is a dump." Mike said, and while it was still a sight for sore eyes in comparison to where they'd come from, it was a lifeless, baron place.
The residents of Derry consisted of the elderly, living out their days in rows of small white houses, all of which were guaranteed to have flaking paint, porches with broken banisters and roofs with missing tiles. It was a town where people had stopped caring, not unlike the rest of Raccoon City.
"There should be a gas station on the other side of town," Lisa said as she watched Mike clamping his hands around his lower leg "Mike, you sure you're alright?" She asked quietly.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just not the most comfortable I've ever been." He smiled at her nervously. She had seen him hide the fresh blood on his jeans awkwardly with his shaking hands as she looked over at him.
"Did one of those dogs bite you?" She said looking straight ahead, careful not to the let the others hear as she drove.
"No," He replied slowly. The pause he had made before dismissing the bite was enough for Lisa to know he wasn't sure whether to admit it or not. He was lying and she knew why; if what had chased them out of the city was the result of a viral epidemic then Mike was now a part of it. Lisa didn't say anything, instead she took a deep, sharp breath and carried on driving, looking out for a sign that would direct them towards the gas station.
"There was somebody else." Jake said solemnly. The others turned to him, confused.
"At the bar?" Mike asked.
"A girl."
"I didn't see anyone."
"One of those things bit her, she passed out behind the bar before you showed up."
"But –"
"The dogs got her, it's better the place went up in smoke," He turned to Lisa. "The bite, I think it made her sick." Lisa glanced at Mike.
"Maybe." She said, but Mike was staring out of the passenger window, he looked old, watching the dust rise out from behind the ambulance in the wing-mirror outside.
"But it's not your fault," Jake said to Mike brashly. "It's mine. It's me who should've been looking after her."
"It's no one's fault." Celeste said.
"Yeah it is," Nathan interrupted. "It's someone's fault that girl is dead, that all this has happened. That Amanda's dead." Celeste gripped his upper-arm.
"Don't say that."
"Well it's the truth isn't it?" Nathan said shrugging his arm back.
"It's not his fault," She said, gesturing at Jake. "It's not your fault. None of us did anything to deserve this. Yeah it's someone's fault, but it's not ours." She said sternly.
"You wouldn't know, you haven't lost anybody yet. You don't know what it's like to feel responsible for it," Nathan noticed her wince slightly, he'd hit a nerve. "Why not Celeste? Everyone else has, you must have lost someone." She locked solidly onto his eyes which were now eager for her answer.
"I didn't have anyone to loose," She explained quietly, almost whispering. "I haven't lost anyone because I was alone."
"No one's totally alone." He threw back at her, how could she have possibly felt as alone as he had when he'd sat on the bed he'd shared with Amanda, the only person he'd ever cared about, looking at their photo back in the flat?
"When I was seventeen I had my little girl, my parents told me if I didn't give her up for adoption they'd kick me out on the streets. I didn't have anywhere to go, I didn't have a choice and when I realised what they'd made me do I just took off, alone. I know what it's like to loose someone." She'd spat out the story, rushed it reluctantly to prove a point, but the memories of her child had drawn out any resentment towards Nathan from her voice. "I've been working in that goddamn delicatessen's since, saving up so I can set up a good home to bring my daughter back to. I'm going to find her and bring her home... because I feel responsible for it, for loosing her."
"You didn't say anything." Nathan said concerned.
"We didn't need another reason to stick around." She forced a feeble smile.
"Ok guys, this is it. Let's do this quickly." Lisa maneuvered the ambulance next to the nearest gas pump.
"It's okay, let's fill this thing up and get out of here." Celeste put her hand on Nathan's shoulder and together they dropped out of the back of the ambulance brandishing two large bread knives from the drawer she had taken from his flat.
The gas station was empty with the exception of a rusting, red, vintage Cadillac which had been abandoned at the pump next to theirs, its engine was running, choking with all of its doors wide open, it was clearly empty, a handbag and its contents were sprawled across the sandy ground around it. A metal sign for gas squealed as it swung with the morning breeze. The sun had almost risen and while it allowed them to see more, it also made them notice the stillness more, Celeste wondered if perhaps the darkness was better.
"Celeste, Sorry about before." Nathan started.
"It's fine."
"I mean it, I shouldn't have –"
"And I mean its fine. Don't worry about it." She smiled sincerely at him before pouring the gas from the pump into the side of the ambulance; the meter began to tick upwards as it filled up.
"Think they'll mind if we don't pay?" Nathan asked, nodding towards the station's derelict front. The reinforced window glass had survived but behind it were the signs of a struggle, as if the place had been ransacked. Celeste smirked, drawing the gas pump out of the ambulance and throwing it to the ground.
"Nah." She said before her smile dropped. "Nathan!" He swung around finding himself face to face with an overweight man in dungarees, his sun burnt, swollen face screwed up into a display of dirty teeth. The man thrust his arms out quickly, grabbing Nathan by his shirt and pulling him towards his garish, yawning mouth. Instinctively he plunged his knife deep into the man's bulging stomach, twisting it. As it forced its way through the denim of his dungarees it slipped effortlessly into the blubbering flesh beneath, releasing a torrent of cold, black blood over Nathan's hand.
"Get off him!" Celeste yelled as she ran aside him and drove her knife deep into his shoulder blade, she jumped back pulling it out and releasing a flurry of the same septic, watery blood. The man was unfazed, if anything more determined to bring Nathan's face to his in an attempt to bite him. His face shook with anger as he snarled, his vacuous eyes blue marbles sunken into his fat, raw face.
Nathan struggled to push the man away from him, the fat man was weak but his weight gave him the kind of stability that the woman in the café they had encountered earlier didn't have. In one last push, Nathan managed to trip the man over, his bulk collapsing backwards into the dust. He suddenly looked ridiculous; angry, rolling in the dirt, struggling like a frustrated, podgy toddler in his filthy, soiled dungarees.
"Look." Nathan pointed, several more figures had begun to appear, slowly but collectively creeping from open doors and around corners in the distance. Quickly he picked up the gas pump and doused the fat man before whipping it around, soaking the ground and the pump itself. He looked up at Celeste who quickly felt her pockets and pulled out her lighter.
"Step on it! We're leaving!" Nathan called. The engine started promptly and Jake opened the back doors, reaching out, helping the couple in. Celeste chucked the lighter out at the fat man as she clambered in and the entire area quickly erupted into flames. The fat man screamed, not in pain or fear but frustration that Nathan had gotten away. As they drove off the flames engulfed the man completely, cooking his flapping, obese body on the ground before swallowing the entire gas station in an explosion of fire.
The ambulance shook on the road as a mushroom of smoke and flame rose out of Derry.
"How many places are we going to have to blow up before we get somewhere safe?" Nathan joked nervously, his arms sore from being clamped so strongly.
"We can't stay here," Celeste said wiping the blood from her knife onto a blanket in the back of the ambulance. "There were so many of them." The image had haunted her, the lifeless people wondering from their porches, drawn to Nathan and herself from wherever they'd been standing dormant. "They heard us and they all started coming." Celeste had carried on wiping the knife which was now spotless until Nathan put his hand on her back.
"We've got a full tank; we'll be way out of here in no time, way out." He assured. Celeste broke into tears suddenly, she wanted it to be over right there and then, she wanted to wake up in her flat and realise it had all been a terrible dream, to realise that life is too short, that she should begin her search for her daughter that very day. But no matter how hard she cried with her eyes clasped shut and her body folded over; she could still feel the moment of the ambulance, Nathan's hand on her back, the terrible reality that everything that had happened was real.
