Leon stalked away from the flaming wreckage that was the large tanker. Well, stalked is too strong of a word. Leon ran like a little girl. Arms flailing and all. It was actually quite amusing. He ran past a few of the flesh eating monsters, ducking past one to dart left down an alley, toward a dark SUV. He darted to the building in front of him, noticing a huge freaking "GUNS" glowing neo-flourescent in the store window.
"Hmmm... this might be a good idea."
And with that. Leon stepped into the building. Leon stood there, oblivious to all, and glanced around the room. He didn't see anything, except a camera, which was poised in such a way that it must have been doing a close up on his body. Shrugging it off, Leon took a step ahead.
"Freeze! Who are you, what are you doing here?"
It was a man, a fat man. He was wearing a bloody white shirt, and suspenders. Apparently this guy fell off the fashion train, and got ran over. Twice. We are going to assume his name is Bob, because he looks like a Bob. Aimed directly at Leon, was a sawed off pistol grip remington shotgun. Even though those would be more issue toward either a SWAT team or a group of terrorists, and not a gun store owner. Leon held up a hand, shaking his head.
"Hold your fire! I'm a human!"
Bob lowered the gun, cocking his fat head to the side.
"You think I don't know that? If you were a zombie, I would have shooted you. Duh."
Leon sighed, letting his head drop. Bob turned, walking out from behind the weapon counter he happened to be hiding behind.
"Sorry about that babe, I thought you might have been one of those zombies."
Bob walked over to him, Leon looking baffled by the "term" babe, when used on a male cop.
"What's going on here!"
"Hold on."
Bob stepped past Leon, reaching over casually to dead-bolt the door, as the young virgin cop's internal radar went off. Why was the large white partially bald guy locking the door now that Leon was inside, when he didn't bother to earlier. And why did he call Leon babe?
"I haven't got a clue cutie. By the time I knew anything was wrong, the entire city was infested with zombies. Because I was sleeping, and I didn't wake up from my four day drinking bender."
Leon nodded, looking back toward the door. He was nervous, those zombies had been right behind him.
"Don't you worry cutie, you'll be safe in here. I'm keeping a close eye out."
"Right... I'm going to walk over there now."
Leon pointed toward the gun cases, and walked away from Bob, more nervous about THAT than the monsters outside. The cop walked around the gun case, noticing that there wasn't a SINGLE gun in the cases. Not one. For a gun store, it sure was empty. The Democrats must have gotten to it. But, Leon did find a box of handgun ammo behind the counter, a picture of a fox on it, even though nobody in their right mind would use a nine millimeter handgun to hunt fox. That's retarded. Looking up, he noticed Bob standing right next to the display window, watching his every move carefully.
"Um... don't you think you should move away from the giant thin window behind you? I WAS just being chased by about a dozen zombies, and you couldn't even hope to see them coming from that position."
"Why would I want to do that?"
Leon shook his head, giving up on Bob. He walked around the counter, and toward the other, finding another box of bullets.
"Because the zombies could dive through and kill you in seconds, and if I-"
Leon was cut off, by the sound of glass shattering into hundreds of shards. He spun, just in time to see Bob turn, raising the shotgun, as a group of five zombies burst through the window, and onto Bob. He fired, and Leon saw the arm of one of the creatures go flying back into the street, as Bob fell, screaming like a small child. They quickly devoured him.
"Well, I told him. Good thing I picked up this ammo."
Leon quickly dispatched the zombies. By quickly I mean he shot them with a whole lot of bullets in the chest, instead of a simple head shot. Once they were all down, he walked over, and bent down, snatching the gun from Bob's cold, greasy, dead grasp.
"Abra cadaver. Man, The Simpsons is awesome, I get all kinds of action hero lines from that show." (Author's Note: I don't own The Simpsons, obviously. But, Matt Groening did lose a poker game or two to me, and owes me. Cheap punk.)
Tossing the shotgun over his shoulder, to look cool, of course, Leon made his way out the back door of the gun shop, turning to walk down an alley as this sentence keeps running on, and on. Leon walked down the dank and cool alley, walking past a fence. As he turned the corner toward said fence, it began to rattle violently, causing him to spin, whipping the gun up, and clamping his eyes closed. After a beat, one eye slowly opened, revealing the three zombies that stood on the other side, shaking the gate to a basketball court. It was obvious they weren't players, as all were white.
"Heh, can't get me huh? Stupid things."
Leon lifted the gun, aiming the nine millimeter at them, and fired. After like another thirty pointless shots, they died. Leon then turned, ignoring the gate, and walking down the alley, leaving the basketball court without anything inside, save a basketball. He kinda wanted to play. Besides, they would hog the court, and were witnesses. Those witnesses, they were all over!
Leon continued, seeing a large white van blocking the alley. Normally, this would lead right out to the Raccoon Police Department, but this van was a complication.
"Rats. I could have walked right to the RPD through there. But this van is in the way. I could climb over it easily, and stop from going through all of the obvious hardships that I am bound to stumble across if I go the long way. But, I don't have that kind of logic. Oh look! Are those bullets in the back of this news van?"
Leon snatched up the box of bullets, again with the stupid fox. Just then, the gate behind him FLEW open, with the force of somebody opening it and PUSHING it! Which was INTENSE! Leon spun, whipping the handgun up, and opening fire, eyes tightly shut as he screamed, unloading an entire clip. A loud thud, and Leon let his eyes slip open, to see a body hit the ground.
"Hey, I didn't even have to shoot it that much, before the zombie...-"
Leon walked to the corpse, finding it amusing to notice that the person had yet to decay, and was bleeding profusely from several ragged wounds in his chest. Apparently, it wasn't a zombie at all. But, still a witness. Witnesses blew donkeys for nickels, I tell ya what.
"Well, he scared me. Serves him right."
Leon walked over the corpse, and jogged through the basketball court, bursting into an alley. He ran up a flight of stairs, around a balcony, then back down, bringing him between a dumpster and a trash can. Needless to say, Officer Kennedy felt right at home.
"Woo hoo, more bullets in this garbage can. Just like real life!"
Leon took yet MORE bullets, stuffing them into his "inventory" where they vanished. Climbing the dumbster, he saw a group of zombies shuffling toward him. Deciding to save ammo, Leon removed his knife. Well, his sword, basically, and waited for them to get close.
About fifty slashes later, after his boots had become quite covered in icky sticky zombie vomit, he had killed them. For such a big knife, it sure did less damage than an ice pick. Leon hopped down, jogging through yet another alley to emerge into a large lot, hearing the sound of loud munching. Still hungry, he walked around a wrecked bus, and he saw them. About four zombies, all crouched over a single corpse, and munching absently.
"Good, bad, I'm the guy with the gun. Man, I am so funny!"
Laughing at his own stupid, stupid joke, Leon took out the Remington, aiming the sawed off stock at the zombies. Being the stupid cop he was, he wasted all four remaining rounds on the zombies, before walking toward the bus. Stepping on, he wrinkled his nose. The dead bodies in the bus were quite rank. And the fact that Leon had been in that uniform all week didn't help matters. Turning around, he pulled MORE bullets out of a women's purse, before turning back. Two zombies, one crawling, one walking. He shot them, and walked through the bus.
As soon as he hopped off the bus, Leon felt his heart sink. More zombies.
"This is getting so five minutes ago."
Deciding "screw it," Leon ran past the few shambling corpses, and into a large metal gate. He pushed it open, knowing that he would now be in the small courtyard of the Police Department. Finally, this fic was going nowhere fast.
Looking to his right, Leon saw two zombies. But, deciding he didn't want to fight them, he walked ahead, and down some stairs. Well, there happened to be one down here too. At least it was only one, and one ugly zombie at that. Ugly yellow pants, ugly camo vest. Leon began firing, but the stupid thing wouldn't die. Finally, it managed to go down, with a big "thud". Leon walked over, crouching to pick up the key that had fallen from it's ugly vest pocket.
"Hmm. I'm sure this opens something important to me in the police station, which will give me a cool gun or a bad outfit or something. I better keep it."
Leon was about to go back up the other set of stairs, until he remembered something VERY important.
"Uh oh. I left my jeep running. I'll run out of gas!"
Turning on his heel, Leon sprinted up the steps, and to the gate. But, when he tried to open it, something very odd happened. Above his head, in floaty white text, came these words.
"It's too dangerous to go back out there."
"What the HELL is all this?"
Leon tried to open the gate, but, it was closed tight, and only showing him that same message. Where it came from, he had no clue. So, Leon turned, sighing, and running back down the stairs, then up, then around a small corner. Finally, he was standing in front of the RPD's main lobby doors. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the doors open gently, and stepped in, trying as hard as possible to look as calm and cool as he could, in case somebody was watching. But, being Leon, he stubbed his toe, tripped, and rolled down the three stairs just inside the door, as it closed slowly behind him. Landing on his butt, the cop looked up and around, taking in his surroundings. He was in.