Author's note: This chapter was both enjoyable and a pain to write. I wanted to cover most of the RPD part of the story in this chapter, because I want to move on to the stuff this story is really about. This is probably the longest chapter yet. Also, I'd like to thank everyone whose reviewed so far (Ardivian, thanks for the frequent reviews. Lost survivor, I'm really flattered and if I get stuck I'll keep your offer in mind ). So enjoy!

The trip through the RPD's two hallways had been pretty straightforward. To his relief, James hadn't encountered anymore monsters. Most of the windows had been boarded up, though there was still shattered glass all over the floor.

For some reason, the brightly lit hallways made him a little uneasy. Perhaps it was because it reminded him of some horror film he and Debbie had watched a long time ago, where the hero walked through a hallway just like this one. Of course, he'd rather it be lit then stumbling around in the dark. The fact that he had to step over a couple of bodies on his way wasn't comforting either.

He was in a larger section of the police station now. It was very fancy looking, more so than what he saw when he and Joseph first entered. There was a large, well-polished staircase at the far left of the room, with a potted plant right next it. There were a couple of small corridors that James could chose from, instead of going upstairs. He had no idea where the S.T.A.R.S. office was, or where to begin looking.

He sighed with frustration. He didn't have time to search through every room of the police station, and he was certain that William didn't have that kind of time either. He walked to the door on his right and turned the door knob.

Locked.

Okay, that's one door down…

James walked towards the stairs, passing by a window. The glass shattered behind him. He turned to see what happened, and saw a couple of gray hands grasping the window sill. Two disfigured faces appeared in the window.

He backed up, pulling out his gun. The two zombies climbed through and clumsily landed on the floor. They staggered and clawed at each other in their attempt to get up. The back of his heel bumped against the first step, cause him to trip and land painfully on his back.

The zombies were now facing him. He quickly got to his feet as the first zombie lunged. He stepped out of its way, pressing his back against the wall. The zombie missed and he elbowed it into the wood banister. As he did, its partner lunged for him. He didn't have enough time to guard against it or shoot it and was caught its grasp. He struggled to pry it off him before it sank its teeth into his neck. He saw that there was something wrong with its mouth. There was a sickening fluid dripping from it.

What the…?

He wrestled the zombie off of him and pushed it away. It lost its balance and fell backwards, spewing out bile as it did. He leaped back in disgust as the vomit covered the staircase and the zombie that was trying to get up. Before the zombies could attack again, James bounded up the stairs as fast as he could. He was too busy looking at the zombies behind him to notice that there was one more unfriendly inhabitant waiting upstairs. He crashed into it, sending him sprawling to the ground. He grunted and sat back up, looking at what he crashed into.

"Whoa…"

A very obese, very tall zombie was lumbering around the hallway. It looked at James with lifeless, blank eyes. Seeing that he was its new prey, it reached out with large, meaty hands to grab him. The other two zombies were making their way up the stairs as well. He slipped out of the large zombie's reach and tried to squeeze around it. He brushed up against its cold, sickly skin that sent chills down his spine. As soon as he was free, he sprinted towards the door at the end.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

'What the hell?' James thought. The thumping sounded like heavy footsteps. They gradually got louder, and quicker. He turned his head and realized that the large zombie was chasing him.

To his surprise, the zombie was a lot faster than it looked. In fact, it was doing a good job at catching up with him. He looked ahead of him. The hallway diverged into a room with a large statue of a man in the middle of it, with two other statues sitting on opposite ends of it. In the northwest corner of that room, was a door.

Yes! I can escape!

The zombie was almost on top of him now. James wheeled around statue, causing the zombie to slide into it. He threw open the door and slammed it shut behind him, hoping that it wouldn't try to follow him into the other rooms. He was safe, but now he faced a big problem.

'Where the hell did I end up?' he wondered. The hallway was a bit darker than the others, but they all looked them same. Shattered windows, boarded up doors, and blood splatters all over the room.

There was one door that wasn't boarded up. It was near the end of the hallway, right before it curved to the left. He was almost afraid, well, he was afraid to try it. He didn't want to see anymore zombies, or weird inside-out creatures, or god knows what else…

He opened the door, with the gun clenched tightly in his hand, ready for whatever threat was waiting for him.

There was none.

He blinked in surprise. It was an office. There were several desks, with each area around the desk customized to the former owners' likings. James was overjoyed when he saw the S.T.A.R.S. logo that was on the wall across from him.

I'm here! I found it!

He scanned the room, hoping to spot any equipment laying about that would help him. Mainly medical supplies for the police officer. In the back of the room there was a bag hanging on the wall, next to a desk with boxes piled near it. He walked over to the bag and began rummaging through it, hoping that the person who owned the bag wouldn't be back for it.

He grinned when he discovered what kind of items were it. It had everything he needed to treat William's arm. He was tempted to take the whole bag with him.

But what if someone else needs it? I don't need everything in here. I'll just take what I came for.

James snatched a spare first aid spray, and enough medical gauze to patch up William's arm. He glanced at the small name tag on the bag. The words "Rebecca Chambers" was printed on the tag in bold print. He smiled, as if she were actually there, and mumbled a "thank you".

He placed the supplies in his pack, only to notice that something was missing.

Oh damn! My rifle's gone! I must have dropped it!

James felt a twinge of sadness. The rifle had meant a lot to him. It had been a gift given to him by his grandfather when he was a teenager. It quickly became his favorite gun to use, and it was what caused him to take an interest in hunting. Even though Debbie didn't like it when he did hunt.

"This gun," his grandfather said, "has always gotten me first place in every hunting competition I've been in. No other gun can match it. Maybe someday you'll be able to pass it on to your boy."

Except my boy's dead.

He shook his head. He didn't have time to dwell on the past, or the damn rifle. William needed help, and he needed it now.

He exited the office and walked to the end of the corridor, rather than going back the way he came. He tugged on the doorknob, hoping that it wouldn't be too much of a detour.

Locked.

James' jaw hung open. He tried a few more times, unsuccessfully. Then he started pounding angrily on the door.

"OPEN UP! I don't have time for this!" he banged his fist one final time against the door before leaning against it in a sulking manner.

'I can't believe this,' he thought miserably. He'd have to go back the way he'd came, through the zombies. As if to make him feel worse, a chilling chorus of moans could be heard from the other end of the corridor.

He gulped, walked to the end of the hallway, and opened the door.

I'm going to die.

His old friend, the big zombie, was still there. At the sound of his entry, it quickly turned its attention to him. His eyes widened, and he broke into a sprint down the hallway to escape it. The zombie began its chase again, trying harder than last time to catch up with the young man.

He turned his head, seeing that the zombie was quickly catching up with him. He aimed his gun behind him and fired several shots, which slowed it down. He skidded to a stop when he reached the stairs. The two zombies he fought earlier were also there to greet him.

"Ah…"

He was trapped between the monsters. He knew it would be an instant death sentence he if tried to take on all three of them at once, but there was no way to escape…

Wait!

He eyed the wood banister that lined the staircase and got an idea. He ran over to it, grabbed it with his hand, and swung his whole body over it. He landed on the first floor on his feet. Pain shot up through his legs from the impact.

The zombies stumbled down the stairs after him, and he took that as his cue to exit. He felt rather proud of the move he pulled. So proud, in fact, that he failed to notice right away a new female zombie that was blocking his exit.

James halted, swearing to himself. It dived at him and he backed up. His body was quicker than his mind, as he instinctively raised his gun and fired. Blood sprayed from its eye and the monster stumbled back. He fired two more shots, one bullet hitting its cheek and the other hitting its forehead.

The zombie fell motionless to the ground and he quickly exited, running back to the fallen officer as fast as he could.

William checked his arm for what was probably the fiftieth time. It still hurt, but the pain wasn't as bad as it was before. It had been a while since the man who had helped saved his life left. He wondered if he was even alive now.

All the other civilians are dead. I thought police officers were supposed to serve and protect, why the hell is it the other way around now?

He had been pretty idealistic when he joined the force. He imagined himself being like Superman, always saving the weak and the innocent. Instead, it was he who was being saved. It just didn't seem fair.

His mind wandered back to his encounter with the monster. All of his fellow officers had been slaughtered off by these kinds of creatures. Would it only be a matter of time before he'd go? After all, he was nearly helpless now. If a zombie where to walk in-

Something stumbled in through the doorway, causing William to tense up with fear. He looked up in horror, expecting to see a zombie, but instead found himself staring at a weary-looking James.

"Hey, I made it back," he smiled. William relaxed.

"Good. I was afraid you didn't make it," he said.

"I ran into some turbulence, but I came out okay. How's your arm doing?"

"Still hurting like a bitch."

"Well, I have something that might cheer you up," James dug out the first aid spray and the gauze, "let me see your arm."

William held out his arm. James took the first aid spray and applied it to his wound. He winced slightly at the spray's sting. James went on to fixing his arm with the gauze.

"I hear that first aid sprays work wonders on injures like this. No, no, don't fidget. Just relax. I'll be done in a few seconds," James wasn't exactly sure how to set a broken arm. The only thing he could do for William was try to fix it up in a sling. Thankfully, he was successful at making a decent sling for William's arm.

"Okay. I got it. Here, let me help you up," James pulled William to his feet.

"Thanks," William said. James took out the handgun he received from him and handed it back to the police officer. William held up his hand in refusal.

"No. Don't bother. I wouldn't be able to do much with it. You hang onto it," he said. James looked at him for a moment, before taking the gun back. A scream erupted behind them, causing the two men to jump.

"What the hell was that?" William asked. A sense of dread hit James, as he recognized where the scream had come from.

"That's Joseph!" he cried. He ran off to where he last left Joseph, with William following behind him, hoping he wasn't too late.