The whole family had heard the reports of zombies literally taking over the city and eating people. The screams that came from outside...both 11-year-old Kenny and his 8-year-old sister Samantha cried hysterically.
"Don't worry kids," their father said. "We're going to go check on your aunt. The phones are down, and we need to make sure she's okay. I want you go upstairs and hide. We should be back in just a few minutes." His father took the gun that the family kept "just in case". He saw the look of determination on his father's face, and it had actually made him stop crying.
"C'mon Sam. Mom and Dad will be back soon...let's go upstairs and hide," he said. Samantha kept crying, so as his mother and father stepped out the front door, he took his sister upstairs and hid in a closet.
Kenny checked his watch again. Four hours had passed. Aunt Lindsy's house was only two houses over. Which meant...
Which meant he would probably never see his parents again. He looked down at his little sister, who was quietly snoozing away. She could be a pain sometimes, but he loved her, and knew that he had to protect her now. He softly shook her awake.
"H...hm?" she said drowsily.
"We need to go..." he said. She looked at him wide eyed.
"But mom and dad said not to go until they got back," she said innocently.
"Mom and dad...it's been four hours and they aren't back..." he said painfully. She suddenly burst into tears.
"C'mon Samantha...don't cry!" Kenny said, trying to soothe his sister.
"But...but mom...and dad...those bad people got them," she said between choked sobs. She hugged her brother tighter.
"I...I hope not. It's been a while, but we should go before anything happens. Mom and dad might just be trapped. I hope." Samantha wiped away her tears, and nodded. They got out of the closet and walked down the stairs.
"Where are we gonna go?" Samantha asked.
"We'll try Aunt Lindsy's first. If it doesn't look good...well, we can always try the mall. There might be people still there." Kenny looked out through a window to see if it was clear. Luckily, except for some wrecked cars, the street looked empty.
"C'mon," he said. He took Samantha's hand and they both walked out the door.
"Man, you'd think Umbrella could afford to make their escape passages a little more stylish," Ryan muttered to himself. His booted foot splashed through the thin layer of water that covered the passage. It was narrow, but lights overhead made sure he could see where he was going. Other than that, the passage was empty.
Finally arriving at the end, he came to a ladder. He doubled checked the safety so he wouldn't shoot himself, then tucked it into his waistband. He climbed the ladder, and before long came to a manhole cover. He pushed lightly on the cover and it flew off. He climbed up all the way and looked around himself.
'What the fuck...' he thought. Dusk was setting in, and the city wasn't looking in that great of shape. A good portion of the cars he saw had crashed into each other, and small fires seemed to litter the street. A few of the living dead walked the street. Noticing him, a couple shuffling towards for him.
Ryan shook his head. Umbrella just kept messing up. He wondered how anything got accomplished with all these accidents.
Ryan caught himself. Normally he'd be feeling bad over the fate of the people who once had lives. But...oddly enough, he felt calm and rational. There was a small sense of pity, but it took a back seat to the rational side of him.
He snapped out of his self-analization as he noticing the approaching zombies. He'd rather not fight if he didn't have to. Jogging in the opposite direction, he ran towards an alley. He didn't know the layout of the city very well, but he thought if he could get on top of a building he could spot the mall. From there, hopefully he could find a salvageable car or something and hit the road.
A few feet into the alley and a blur a flashing lights caught his attention. He turned to see a cop car with its light on go whizzing by. He started to run towards the street, but the car was all ready gone before he could even think. The car had to be doing at least 60.
"No way I'll catch them now..." he said. Shrugging, he turned back towards the alley, tuning out the cries of hunger from the undead.
Allison had figured out how the work a gun. Lucky for her, the gun shop owner stocked firearm books, including "Guns for Dummies". Reading through it, she figured out how to load a gun, and general handling. She emptied her purse and loaded up on ammo. She took a gun that the book had called a "Colt Python". The book had said it was hard to handle, but packed a pretty big wallop. Allison really wanted a rocket launcher, but of course there weren't any.
She would've taken more guns, but she really wasn't strong enough to carry much. As it was, the weight of the Colt Python felt odd in her hand. She steeled herself, and then opened the door.
