Chapter Two

Sirens blocked out the strange moaning sounds coming from Rose and Mr Clark, bringing Cindy's mind back to the madness unfolding in the large kitchen of Remy's. The place she had once felt safe in was now turning into a house of horrors. What had happened to Mr Clark? And Rose, wasn't her lifeless body on the floor a minute ago?

She would have to find out later. It was just too weird for her brain to take in. She pushed the door open with all her strength and almost fell into a pile of leftover food. But she was up and on her feet in an instant pushing herself more and more. I have to get out of here, fast. But where would I go? I need to just find somewhere to gather my thoughts. There has to be a reasonable explanation for this.

To her right were two or three garbage cans that she could make out in the evening sunlight as the sun began to hide beneath the horizon. To her left was an alleyway that led into the street.

She ran down the alleyway, straight into the road, not wanting to stop, to have to go back in that room. Finally she stopped herself to catch her breath, pushing her blond hair back behind her ears, her palms sweating. What had just happened in there?

Suddenly, Cindy was blinded by light coming straight toward her and thought no more.

"What the hell is that? Hey! Get out of the way!" Kevin swerved to avoid the human shaped object that had just come into view. They had just come running from the back alley of Remy's and stopped. Doubling over as though they were catching their breath.

Who could it be? Joggers wouldn't just run into the street like that. What's going on? As Kevin opened the door of his jeep to investigate, the object came towards him and he could now see that it was a human, a waitress to be precise.

Her cheeks were red, a look of confusion covering her delicate features. Her long blond hair was put up into a ponytail, but most of it seemed to have fallen out of it and was tucked behind her ears. She was wearing a grey dress with a white shirt underneath, a black bow at the neck completing the look.

The she spoke, her voice filled with fear. "Hey, can you give me a ride out of here?"

"Sure. Hop in" Kevin locked eyes with the girl and could sense her distress. His training had taught him a lot about these situations; if somebody looked rattled, then they were to be given what they wanted, anything to calm them down a bit. Then you could ask the questions and get to the bottom of things.

The woman walked slowly to the jeep and opened the passenger door sitting next to him at the front. "Who's back there?"

"Oh. I found him in the garage shop. He didn't look too well and he looks a lot worse now. I'm glad that I decided to take him to the hospital". The man's face was now so pale that you could almost see beneath the skin. He wasn't moving at all. Maybe he's dead. Now stop being pessimistic, he'll be fine once he gets to the hospital. It's just a cold. Isn't it?

Kevin started up the jeep again; nothing would get in the way of getting this man to the hospital no matter what. It would just have to wait. "So what's your name?" Kevin asked the woman trying to keep his voice as calm as possible.

"It's Cindy. Cindy Baker. I work at Remy's; although by the way I'm dressed you probably could've guessed it. What's yours?"

"My name's Kevin. So where do you wanna go? After I get this man sorted out I should be able to get you out of here."

"I'm still not sure if I want to leave Raccoon City. It's just. No, you wouldn't believe me if I told you".

She was actually opening up to him, even though she had been so distraught before. He couldn't miss the opportunity to find out what had spooked her so much. "C'mon you can tell me. I've seen a lot of weird things on the job. Surprise me".

"Okay. But you're not going to like it".

Cindy filled him in on the situation at Remy's and the mindless things that had once been her friends. As well as Rose's mysterious resurrection from the dead.

"Wow! Are you sure she was actually dead? Maybe she was just unconscious," Kevin said.

"I know what I saw! She had bite marks in her neck. Her eyes were frozen open. Her face was blank. What more do you want". She couldn't believe this guy. He asked her to tell him what happened and then dismissed it almost immediately. "Oh, Whatever. You don't believe me anyway do you?"

"Well maybe there's some sort of explanation for all this. When I drop this man off at the hospital we'll go back to Remy's and check it out".

She couldn't argue with that. She probably would have said the same thing if she hadn't experienced it for herself. Maybe there was some sort of reasonable explanation. I just hope that he's right.

"What's happening to all of my patients?" George Lyson flipped through the medical charts of the ten victims of the latest outbreak of a killer disease at the Raccoon City Hospital.

'Day 1 – Patients complexion becomes pale, almost translucent.

Day 2 – Eyes become red and bloodshot accompanied by a fever and temporary loss of vision. Complexion remains pale.

Day 3 – Patient feels a mild discomfort in their throat followed by a straining of the voice. Hours later they fall into a coma.'

The file ended there. That was the stage that his patients were at now. Just a few hours ago his last patient to come in, Mr Rawlinson, had fell into a deep sleep, the room falling eerily quiet.

Through the grey blinds of his office he could see Mrs Alexander. She was very frail, had been when she came in here, was about eighty-two, eighty-three, he couldn't remember. His mind concentrated on more important issues. Suddenly, she got up from her bed, dazed and confused and slowly staggered towards George's office.

He could barely contain his excitement, if one of his patients had come up from a battle of this killer disease, an eighty-something year old, then there was definitely hope for the other nine. But he had to be sure first before he could crack open the wine and have a party; he would have to give Mrs Alexander a full examination before confirming what he believed.

Getting off his comfy office chair and actually getting a good look at Mrs Alexander revealed to him that he had been wrong, terribly wrong about his earlier assumption…

Her face remained deathly pale as before but was now badly dehydrated, folds of skin peeling away from her face. She was coming towards him in a trance like state, moaning slightly as she lifted her feet up and moved along the floor. The sound of hunger underlying her weak moaning rasps. She was coming straight towards him, but why? He didn't have any food on him or around the area that he was standing. In fact the kitchen along with the snack machines went off in the other direction. Why is she coming towards me? How is she coming towards me? She hasn't eaten for days. Shouldn't have the strength to stand let alone walk.

Then she came at him faster, as though she could sense his fear and she stopped-

Right in front of Mr Rawlinson's bed eyeing him up like he was some piece of meat. And then she lunged at him, biting into his torso like a crazed animal. Ripping through the man's shirt and drawing blood, the taste of which seemed to drive her to go for more, ripping through his flesh as though he was a turkey at Christmas.

George had to do something. He couldn't just stand there and watch her rip the guy to piece, literally. He searched the room for something, anything to stop her. He didn't have a gun, wouldn't have been able to use one if he had. Then he saw it. An iron pipe propped against the wall in the corner, in his reach - the plumbers had come a few weeks ago and removed it after water had started leaking over the floor – and he grabbed it. Putting both hands around it, locking them together. He came towards Mrs Alexander and lifted the pole into the air, bringing it down full force on top of her back. It's okay. She's not Mrs Alexander anymore you had to do it. You could have been next.

He heard the crack, echoing as it bounced off the walls of the room, piercing through the sound of flesh being ripped out. But the thing didn't move, carried on devouring flesh as though nothing had happened. He hit it again, this time cracking open the skull with the pole, and it fell on top of Rawlinson, dark liquid pouring from the wound, bathing him in black. It was over now. It was gone.