Cranky had found who he was looking for, though he hadn't quite reached his intended destination yet – the Raccoon City clock tower. He was just a few blocks away from it when he noticed Kenny, alive and about, looking alert – and then Cranky's eye caught sight of a larger form just behind him, a large, threatening looking man chasing him looking pretty pissed off.

The thought that anyone would dare lay a finger on Kenny enraged Cranky enough to approach the matter with his firearm raised. As it were, they were all in enough trouble being in a city infested with the walking dead and here was someone trying to create more trouble. It was the combination of both factors that made Cranky lose his temper in an instant.

Quick as he was, by the time he leapt into action, the man already had Kenny pinned to a crashed car with a combat knife through one of the straps on the backpack he wore. The kid slipped out of the bag while the man tore into it, pocketing its contents.

"Step away from the kid," Cranky said, bringing the shotgun up to waist level, aiming it so that it would punch a hole right through the assailant's chest and abdomen.

"Cranky!" Kenny cried in surprise. The man raised his arms, as if to surrender.

"Put everything back in the bag," Cranky ordered. The man listened, emptying his pockets, putting little boxes back into the bag. What in the world was Kenny carrying?

"He's trying to take our ammo," Kenny said, cocking his head in the larger man's direction. "You can't let him get away with it, Cranky. It's our only way of getting out of this mess!"

"And I got a head to collect," the man said, a smirk forming on one side of his mouth. "You're only standing in my way. Let me have what I want, and nobody gets hurt."

"And who the hell are you to be telling us what to do!" Cranky demanded, keeping his firearm raised.

"Jake Cavanaugh, career criminal," the man replied.

"Never heard of you."

"Then you're about to find out what I'm all about." Something moved quickly in the air in front of Jake. There was just a blur of flesh and the next thing Cranky knew, something hard collided with the barrel of the gun with such force, that it was knocked from even his strong grip.

Cranky was still shocked and awed when Jake make his move, ramming his shoulder into his chest, knocking Cranky off his feet. As he landed on the ground, the career criminal lifted a booted foot and came down hard and fast on Cranky's chest, pressing the air out of him. He grasped Jake's ankle with both his hands, pushing the foot off his chest with all the strength his chest and arms could muster, but Jake was putting his full weight on it.

Kenny's friend was wheezing, he could hear it. Jake was slowly crushing Cranky's lungs in and there was nothing Kenny could do. Or was there? He felt around this pockets for something he could throw. There were those bottles filled with that strange, combustible gray liquid. But there weren't any more. Perhaps if he could get to his backpack while Jake was occupied with Cranky ...

But the career criminal seized Kenny by the arm just as the teen began to take off and twisted it behind his back. "Don't you get and fucking bright ideas," he spat into his ear.

Cranky delivered a well timed karate chop into the back of Jake's knee and shook himself free from the ground. He performed a kickup, landing squarely on two feet and threw a punch aimed at Jake's jaw. Jake was forced to let Kenny go, throwing him into the crumbled remains of the car and retaliated against Cranky's attack, blocking the punch effectively with his forearm. Jake took Cranky's upper arm in one hand, his wrist in the other, and threw him over his body in a wide arc, planting him into the ground for the second time in ten seconds.

Cranky shook his head, gathering his thoughts. This guy was no pushover. Then again, neither was Cranky. Which only meant that whoever he was fighting, this guy had some serious martial arts training behind him. Cranky could hold his own in a fight, but because he'd spent most of his life as a thief on the streets, he never had to apply his brawling skills that often. Nab and run, that was always his method, it was what he was good at. But Jake ... had this guy been living on the streets of Osaka alongside him, Cranky knew Jake would've own the whole lot of them when it came to fighting for food. He wondered how Jake would've been able to scare the Japanese police officers if he was ever caught.

But there was no time to think about that now. The career criminal was barelling towards him in a football style tackle. Cranky dodged off to one side and kicked his leg out, bashing his knee into Jake's arm. He must've hit the nerve, because Jake suddenly went down, cradling his arm. Cranky took the opportunity to attacking, bashing Jake with an double-fisted overhead strike that connected with his upper back. Jake's face met the concrete immediately and now it was Cranky's turn to stomp the living daylights out of the career criminal. He brought his foot up took it down hard on his upper back. He could've crushed his skull, but Cranky wasn't interested in killing anybody.

"Get me the shotgun, Kenny," Cranky ordered, and the teen went to fetch the fallen firearm without a word. He picked it off the pavement and tossed it over to Cranky, who caught it with one hand. He aimed the shotgun and pointed it at Jake again, but this moment of triumph wasn't to last as Jake turned the tables again, seizing the barrel of the gun, pushing the handle into Cranky's nose. There was a splash of warm blood on his face – but it wasn't Jake's.

"Holy shit!" Kenny cried, panicked, "Watch out Cranky, he's gonna …"

BANG!

XXXXX

The viral streets of Raccoon raced by Billy and Ada as they ran as fast as their feet could carry them, their bodies warm with adrenaline while the gentle wind against their bare skin did nothing to cool them down. Two pairs of eyes scanned the surrounding environment for any movement, any sign of life – uninfected life, Kenny's life. They had been jogging up and down the same stretch of road for five minutes … or had it been ten already? It was hard to tell.

"We've lost them," Ada finally admitted defeat. "He could've killed Kenny by now."

"He's not dead until we confirm it," Billy said, taking his handgun from its holster on his waist. "They could've run anywhere. The streets are a maze and we don't have the time to search them all, especially not with the possibility of zombies around every …"

"Shh! Did you hear that?" Ada said, holding a finger to her lips.

Billy quieted down and listened. Yes! There was someone moving just a few feet from where they stood!"

"Kenny!" Billy called. "Are you alright?"

"Ughhh …" There was a weak reply coming from a dark alley that flanked them on the right.

"Sounds like him," Ada said, "let's go check it out."

"Ada, wait!" Billy insisted, but it was no use. She had already gone, disappearing around the bend. Billy rolled his eyes at her impulsiveness. He was glad to have her along for the ride to get out of Raccoon. He wasn't so sure anymore that he could've rescued Rebecca even if she had been in the city.

That was the reason he'd come here after all. Rebecca, the rookie member of Raccoon's Special Tactics and Rescue Squad, otherwise known as the S.T.A.R.S. that had saved Billy's life, not just on their mission in the Raccoon forest together, but what happened after as well. She'd lied to her superiors, telling them that Billy Coen was dead. He guessed they believed her because there was no hit squad sent after him following the train incident in the forest.

Billy hadn't expected to get the opportunity to repay her for her kindness. Doing so would probably draw attention to him, taking into consideration who she worked for and who she must've associated with as a result. And if any of her co-workers recognized him, all of Rebecca's work covering his ass would've been undone. He'd be executed, and she'd probably be jailed for conspiring with a "dangerous offender." He wouldn't put her at such a risk, and stayed well away from her.

But after reports of the Raccoon murders were sent through the airwaves, Billy couldn't help but wonder if she was okay. He'd fought alongside her before and was well aware of her capabilities in the field. But there was a voice at the back of his mind forcing him to go into the city to check up on her. It wasn't even going to be a meeting. He was just going to walk by her somewhere in the halls of the precinct, make sure she was okay, and then get himself the hell out of there. It was such a simple plan, absolutely nothing to it. And what had happened instead?

Billy had walked right into the S.T.A.R.S. office without even knowing it – his first mistake. And his second was meeting up with … well … Kenny – who proudly informed his to his disappointment and to his relief that Rebecca was no longer in town. The little Chinese kid had a smart mouth and a fuck-all attitude, but there was something about him that Billy felt protective of. They had been separated already once that night and ran back into each other at the clock tower with Ada by Billy's side.

The woman was good with a gun. Kenny wasn't. Ada could fire in rapid succession and not even blink, not to mention her aim was impeccable. Kenny was flimsy. He picked up how to shoot pretty quickly for a novice, but given their situation, he wasn't learning fast enough. Together, the ragtag group of survivors had scaled the Raccoon City park, right beside the cemetery, promising not to lose sight of each other – and then Jake came. And now, they were separated within a few seconds of making their promises to each other.

"AHH!" An ear piercing shriek had interrupted Billy's thoughts. It was Ada! He dashed around the corner after her, hearing three quick gunshots. He saw her backed up against the back of the alley, sitting on the grungy ground with her handgun extended out. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated. A trickle of sweat dripped down one side of her face.

Billy's eyes followed the direction of Ada's gaze and he saw it – a dead zombie, a teenager around Kenny's age, lying in a pool of its own blood, lifeless on the ground.

"It wasn't him," Ada managed to choke out.

"Good," Billy said. "Now what do you say we get out of here and find him?"

And that was when they heard it, a familiar voice traveling through the dead air of the night.

"Holy shit, watch out Cranky! He's gonna …"

Then a gunshot. Then, silence.