A DAY IN THE LIFE OF AN OMEGA

By The Dark Wraith

Notes: This story is by no means based solely on Resident Evil. I believe that RE didn't spring fully formed from the minds of the creative team at Capcom. And so this story owes its existence to a number of sources. Some of those sources are perhaps instantly recognizable to readers. In any case, thanks to all the touchstones of this particular expression of my creativity.

CHAPTER ONE: Groceries

Daniel tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the music playing on his AMUV's radio. Normally he would be tuned in to whatever overseas stations his radio could pick up; however, he finally found a CD that he'd been looking for since he was in college and he was giving it a spin. After all, it had been a while since he'd listened to some good rock and roll.

He came to an intersection with traffic lights that still worked. Out of habit, he stopped when the light turned red. He looked around even if he knew there could possibly be no traffic coming from anywhere. Once the light turned green, he proceeded cautiously to the other side of the intersection. As he passed by an abandoned church, he noticed that it was already nearing noontime. A small grumble came from his stomach. Daniel smiled. I guess a lunch break wouldn't be so bad, he thought.

"All Omegas," he spoke into his headset mike, "this is Bravo Thirteen. It's chow time, over."

"Bravo Thirteen, this is Bravo Eighteen—acknowledged. Anything happened on your patrol so far?" a voice answered.

"Negative. Manila's quiet. How's your patrol, Eighteen?"

"Ran into some dead men walking a couple of hours ago, Thirteen. Nothing major, though."

"Are there any survivors in your area?"

"Negative, Thirteen. Survivors aren't really expected in this area." Daniel nodded grimly at Bravo Eighteen's statement. Another reason why he hated Umbrella…he thought of Payatas' squatter colony. They made their living—if you could call it a living—scavenging the trash that came to the Payatas landfill. Then Umbrella came around, distributing their high-nutrition food products as part of their "poverty alleviation program" in Metro Manila. At first, it seemed as if Umbrella were miracle workers. The mortality rate among people living in Payatas went down and they seemed to have significantly boosted their immunity to disease. Children were no longer dying by the dozen every day.

At least, they weren't dying yet. That didn't happen until a year later—that and all the rest of the horror.

Daniel shook his head to clear his mind of the anger that was building inside him. It was always there and the object of his anger was always the same: Umbrella. That was why he gladly joined Omega, despite being warned of all the dangers that came with the job. And that was why he asked to be assigned to the Philippines. Umbrella had destroyed his home. Therefore, he would do anything to reclaim it and make it livable again. And if he ever ran into anyone from Umbrella within his home turf, well, nobody told him he wasn't allowed to extract a little restitution.

"Hey, Daniel," Eighteen said. "You still there, pare?"

"Yeah," Daniel replied. "Keep looking anyway, buddy."

"Copy that, Thirteen. Over and out."

"Out," Daniel responded. He turned left at the next street that he came to as he went past a smaller intersection. He saw a couple of wrecked jeepneys. The first time he'd seen jeepneys abandoned and burned in the streets of Manila, he felt sick to his stomach. Manila without jeepneys plying the streets was unthinkable; it was unreal. He still wasn't used to the sight of it.

He drove on until he came to a grocery store. Like the church he'd passed, it was abandoned. Wrecked vehicles lay nearby but didn't obstruct his path or his line of sight. There were no dead men walking in front of the place but that didn't stop him from parking the AMUV as close as possible to the grocery store. Before disembarking, he went picked up his "tools": a 9mm. pistol with a silencer, a MAC-10 Ingram, and several clips of ammunition for both guns. He tucked them inside his trench coat—something that the other Omegas he was serving with never failed to kid him about, after all why wear a trench coat in a tropical country?—and then went inside the grocery store.

Miraculously enough, the doors were intact. Shatterproof glass—good, Daniel remarked silently. He'd take note of that; perhaps he could add this store to his list of "supply depots". He grabbed a big cart and began to comb the aisles, methodically checking the expiry dates of the items he picked off the shelves.

As Daniel made his way towards the right side of the store, a zombie noticed his passing and began to shamble after him. A second one spotted him as well, followed by a third as he obliviously went by, whistling the Def Leppard song that he'd been listening to inside the AMUV.

He stopped at the aisle where the various oils were stacked. He selected a bottle of olive oil and soya oil and placed them into his cart. His eyes found the sesame oils and he went over to inspect the different brands.

The third zombie that had spotted him rounded the corner of the aisle Daniel was in and made its way towards him, letting out little mindless growls. It came closer to its unsuspecting prey, raising its arms to grab it…

The pistol made a small noise, like a polite cough. The zombie fell with a hole in its head. Daniel calmly put the bottle of sesame oil in his cart. The second zombie appeared within the range of his peripheral vision. Effortlessly, he fired at it and felled it. He began to make his way towards the second central aisle between the shelves. Just as he was walking towards the aisle behind the oils, the first zombie showed up behind him. Daniel heard it—smelled it too. He whirled around with an economy of movement and shot it in the head.

With that business taken care of, Daniel turned towards the ice cream bin. He hoped that there was Rocky Road. He felt like a double helping of Rocky Road after lunch today.

He was sorting through the selections in the ice cream bin when he heard something—a stealthy noise coming from the back of the store. Daniel left his cart by the bin and went to investigate. He soon found out what had made the noise. It was a zombie coming through the open emergency exit. Daniel waited for it to enter the store all the way in and then approached it quickly and quietly. The gun coughed politely once more and the zombie collapsed onto the floor almost soundlessly. He made for the door and peered outside. There were eight more dead people walking outside; luckily for him, they were the slow-moving, slow-witted type.

Daniel retreated back into the store and locked the door. Then he went back to his cart and resumed his search for his chosen dessert. He found a half-gallon container and added it to the supplies in his cart. With his shopping done, he spoke into his personal communicator. "Would you please bring the rear doors as close as possible to the main doors of the grocery, Road Warrior? And please activate defenses," he said as he walked towards the checkout lanes. He was almost near them when he saw a pip of movement to his right. Four zombies lurching—no trotting—no running towards him. Daniel instinctively grabbed an empty cart and ran towards the creatures full-tilt. The cart struck the two zombies in the lead and sent them flying against the two behind them. As they struggled to get up, he finished them off with headshots. With the creatures lying permanently dead on the floor, he went off in the direction the creatures had come from. It was the grocery's storage area. Daniel put his pistol aside, brought out his Ingram, and walked into the storage area. There were boxes piled there—dish detergent, disposable plates, canned goods, soda bottles, among other things. Daniel hugged the near wall, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of the storage area. If it was dark, that meant that there was no outside light coming in. Good—that meant that the loading bay doors were most likely closed. He hoped that they were locked from the inside.

A smell hit his nostrils—decomposing flesh and blood. Like a bloodhound, Daniel tracked the smell to its source. It was coming from some point near the loading bay doors. His Ingram waited expectantly in his hands, the black silencer seeming to grow larger as he came closer to the spot where the stench was getting stronger. Daniel crept in and out of the boxes piled around him. He could see well enough now; his eyes were now on "visual purple", in the lingo of Special Forces troops.

Here, his mind whispered. He'd reached the source of the stench. He heard no movement, saw nothing trying to sneak up on him. Daniel's hand went inside his trench coat and pulled out a small flashlight. He switched it on and immediately saw the source of the rotten scent he'd been sniffing out. A few feet away from him, on the floor, lay two or perhaps three bodies. One was wearing a security guard's distinctive blue and white uniform. The other two had t-shirts that bore the grocery store's logo—baggers or something like that, most likely. From their appearance, it looked like the four runner zombies had been dining on them before they decided to include him in the menu. He stepped closer, index finger resting lightly on the Ingram's trigger, but he soon saw that there would be no need for anymore shooting. The bodies on the floor were just that—bodies. They appeared to have suffered head trauma. The most obvious source was the revolver still held in the guard's hand. Daniel tried to pull it off but the guard kept a death grip on his weapon. Probably killed themselves when they say that they didn't have a prayer of making it out. Speaking of prayers…he knelt down in front of the three corpses and said a quick prayer, asking God to bless and keep their souls. When he was done, he checked the loading bay doors and found them shut but not locked. He went back into the store, to the hardware section. He picked out five padlocks. He used the first one for the loading bay doors. Then he returned to his neglected cart. Outside, the AMUV—which he affectionately called "The Road Warrior"—was backed up towards the grocery's front doors.

Daniel brought his cart to the front and pulled the doors back. "Please open the rear doors, Road Warrior," he said into his communicator. The AMUV did as it was told. Daniel began to load the supplies into his vehicle. As he was halfway through his task, the mini-gun mounted on top of The Road Warrior came to life. The eight zombies that had been prowling the back of the grocery store had either heard Road Warrior's engine or had just come up front to see if anything edible had strayed within reach. The Road Warrior easily took care of them. Daniel finished loading up his groceries; he wanted to lock down the grocery. Dead bodies aside, it was stocked well enough as a supply depot. He'd return to decontaminate the place later, telling The Road Warrior to note the store's location on their maps.

He closed the rear doors and began pulling down the steel blinds that were used to keep unwanted intruders from breaking into the store. Road Warrior put up a fire-for-effect defensive screen around him as he went about his task. The new padlocks were put in place. Daniel matched each key to each lock in his head, memorizing the brands of the locks and keys and their shapes. He was just snapping the last lock on the front door's blinds when The Road Warrior let loose a couple of long bursts from the mini-gun. He didn't bother to look at what his vehicle had been firing at; he could hear the sounds of running feet and hungry groans perfectly well. Once the lock was fastened, he got up, went to The Road Warrior's driver's-side door, and went inside. It was only when he was up in the cockpit that he got to see what was trying to get to him—more runner zombies. Road Warrior had taken care of twelve of them but there were about ten or twelve more coming from the left.

"Sorry, people," he said, putting The Road Warrior in gear, "I've got to grab me a bite to eat now and you're wasting my chow time." The AMUV rumbled forward. Those zombies who tried to block its way were simply crushed underneath the vehicle's big wheels. The others were hurled aside as The Road Warrior picked up speed and collided with them. As they left the zombies behind them, Daniel hoped that he could find a park or someplace like that where he could enjoy the scenery as he ate. He always felt better taking his lunch or dinner surrounded by nice views whenever he was on patrol.