Author's Note: Huzzah! It's done. Fastest I've gotten a chapter finished, I think. Lady Frost1, I'm glad you like James. Before this story, the rough draft of his character had originally been closer to Kevin's than Leon's ;) There's no action here (sorry action fans! I'll make it up to you!), because this chapter still sets the stage for the events to come. Lots of Hursh dialogue, and some angst! So enjoy!

Dr. Hursh quickly escorted the three survivors into his office. As soon as they stepped inside he locked the door. The office was in a disarray. There was papers strewn everywhere and medical equipment lying around. The most odd object they saw was a blood pack resting on top of the doctor's desk.

William was the first to ask the question that had been on everyone's mind.

"Are you the only doctor left?"

"Yes, unfortunately. All the other doctors either left or died," Hursh replied, "it's a shame that it all came down to this."

"Are there anymore survivors?" James asked.

"I think there's still one left. A young girl was brought in a couple days before the riots broke out. She's on the second floor, but I don't know if she's still alive. It's very dangerous past the first floor," Hursh said. He wiped the sweat from his forehead again.

"Wait, you just left her all alone up there?!" Bethany asked in shock.

"No, no!" Hursh held up his hands in protest, "I've been trying to get to her, but I can't get the lift to work properly. I need to go down and restore power to the lift."

"Where can the power be restored?" James asked.

"The first-floor basement. You'd have to take the stairs to get down there," Hursh said.

"I'm sorry if I'm stating the obvious here, but couldn't you just take the stairs to the second floor?" Bethany asked. The doctor sighed.

"I've already tried that, but the second floor is blocked off. The lift is the only way to get up there," Hursh said.

"Blocked off? By what?" James asked.

"Part of the hallway collapsed. It's a real mess," Hursh said. He shuddered, remembering the reason why it had collapsed in the first place. They just didn't have enough power to stop that monstrous thing-

"Anyway, all this talking isn't saving that girl any faster."

James nodded. The doctor was obviously through with answering anymore questions.

"Okay, I'll go turn on the power," James volunteered. Before he could leave, the doctor stopped him.

"Wait, you need a key to unlock the passageway to the basement," Hursh dropped the basement key into his hand.

"Thanks," James slipped it into his pocket. Hursh retreated to the back of the office and began rummaging through the mess on the back table. Papers fell onto the floor, but the doctor didn't seem to notice. He pulled out a slender, black flashlight. He flicked it on to make sure it was still working. He then turned it off and handed it to James.

"Take this too. It's very dark down there. I doubt I have to tell you this, but be careful. The second floor isn't the only thing that's dangerous," Hursh warned.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'll be back in a few minutes," said James. At least, I hope it's just a few minutes…

"I'm being very serious here. There's something wandering around this hospital, something a lot worse than the zombies. I can't really describe it, but I don't want you getting caught by this monster. If you run into it, don't fight it. Get back here as quickly as you can," Hursh said.

James gulped, but he tried to not let any fear show.

"Okay. I'll do that."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to keep your friend here for a minute. I couldn't help but notice how his injury was patched up. I'm afraid his arm will heal wrong if it was kept in that position," Hursh said, motioning to William.

James flushed.

"A…ah, well, I'm not exactly a good medic…" he said, embarrassed. Hursh laughed.

"That's quite all right. It's easily fixed," Hursh looked over to William, "is this okay with you? I just didn't think you'd want your arm to heal wrong."

"Hey, go ahead. Anything to fix it," William said.

"That's good. Okay, hurry back. I'm worried about that girl," Hursh said. James nodded and left.

As James walked further away from Hursh's office, he heard footsteps behind him. Alertness kicked in and he turned his head around. To his relief, he saw that it was only Bethany.

"What are you doing?" he asked. She raised an eyebrow.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I thought you might need some backup," she said.

"All I'm going to do is turn the power back on. I don't really need any backup," he said. She looked like she was going to be angry with him, but instead her red lips curved into a mischievous smile.

"Oh, I get it. You're the big strong man, so you don't need a little girl like me in the way," she purred, "am I right?"

He looked at her suspiciously. What is she trying to do? Is she just trying to mess with me?

"No, that's not what I meant…" he actually wanted to take a small detour before he headed downstairs. There was a place he wanted to visit alone.

"Nah, it's okay. I understand," she said, "I'll go stay with William. He doesn't seem like the type of guy who can take a lot of pain."

"You'd be surprised," he said, sticking up for the young officer. She chuckled.

"Well, see you around. Don't take too long," she turned away from him and started walking back towards Hursh's office.

James felt uncomfortable. Was that what she was aiming for? It sure as hell worked…

He pushed his uneasy feelings aside and continued on his way. He stopped at the eerie hall that he had passed earlier.

Room 105...

That number sounded familiar, but he didn't know why.

He knew it was wrong. He knew he should be trying to turn the power back on, rather than trying to stir up old memories. He knew that the survivor upstairs was more important than what was in that empty room.

But he had to know. He had to see inside just once.

He swallowed his fear and walked down the strangely-lit hallway. He gently pushed open the door and went inside.

It looked like any other hospital room. Everything was in perfect place, a sign that the room hadn't been used in a while. The curtains had been opened, allowing him to see outside. The beautiful night sky had been replaced with a dark sheet of clouds. Below him, the city looked like it was burning.

He turned away, walking over to the bed. He sat down, quietly gazing off into space.

"This…this is our son?" James asked. The woman nodded, smiling. The pink thing wrapped in a blue blanket gave a soft cry.

"He wants to meet his father," she said. He eagerly walked over to her and she placed the baby in his arms. Its eyes were closed and its hands were curled into tiny little fists. It cried, louder this time, as it was taken from its comfortable, safe place. James looked at Debbie worriedly, fearing that the baby didn't like him. She laughed at his concerned expression, then took his hand and placed it gently under the baby's head. Its cries faded and it drifted off to sleep in its father's arms.

"What are we going to name him?" he asked. He honestly hadn't even considered a name.

Debbie smiled and shifted in her bed. She looked so exhausted.

"I like the name Daniel," she said.

"Daniel?" James stared down at the baby. He smiled, "Okay, we'll name him Daniel."

He looked lovingly at his baby boy. He was a father now. He still couldn't believe it.

"Daniel…"

Another memory drifted into his head. One that he had forgotten a long time ago. It was after the car accident. He remembered storming out of the room where he had been kept in. No, not storming. He was limping, his leg was hurt. His side was stitched up and wrapped in bandages. There was a large band-aid on his forehead. His arm was bloody from where he ripped out the IV. There were doctors and nurses yelling at him.

"Sir! You can't come in here!"

"The hell I can't! Where is my son?!"

"Are you Mr. Turner?"

"Yes! Let me see my son! Please!"

"Mr. Turner, your son is dead. You can't see him."

"No! Your lying! Let me see him, dammit! He can't be dead! He can't be!"

He shoved the nurse out of the way. She yelped and stumbled as he forced his way through. A couple of doctors leaped up and tried to restrain him without injuring him further. He fought like a dog, but before they were able to drag him out, he saw a bed.

A small figure was laying on it. A white sheet with blood stains on it was over the child's head. He saw strands of red hair sticking out above the sheet. He stared in shock.

"Daniel?" his voice was weak.

The figure didn't answer.

He broke down crying. The doctors dragged the grieving man to his room. All the way he fought weakly, mumbling his son's name over and over and trying to clear away the flood of tears that clouded his vision. They tried their best to comfort him, but it didn't work. His child was dead.

The memory faded. James realized that his hands were pressed tightly against his head, his fingers digging into his skull. He allowed his arms fall limply to his sides.

It had been this room, hadn't it? The room Daniel died in.

He reached into his pack and pulled out the family photo. He looked at the three smiling faces in the picture.

Tears hit the glass case the picture was in.

It wasn't fair.

He wiped his eyes. Coming to this room had been a mistake. No matter how many memories he had of Daniel, it wouldn't bring him back.

He put the picture away.

'I've got to go save that girl,' he thought. He needed to get to the basement, needed to get out of this room. He was wasting too much time here.

He got up, suddenly feeling very tired. He walked out the door. Right before the door closed behind him, he thought he heard a soft voice speak.

"Daddy…"