It had been a few hours since Cranky had seen a decent human being – decent being one who wasn't trying to eat him. He opened his heavy eyelids, and the first thing that his eyes registered was the ceiling. He rubbed the sandy grits of sleep from his lashes and swallowed a thick wad of spit. Smacking his lips, Cranky realized he had been asleep. He turned his head to find it resting comfortably on a pillow, and then noticed the bars at the sides of the bed, making sure he wouldn't roll off. Judging from the that feature, and the fact that a curtain partially separated him from the rest of the room, he was in the Raccoon City hospital, where Officer Aaron had recommended he go for his wounds.
Cranky sat up, scratching at his red, matted hair, and tried to remember how he got there in the first place. Officer Aaron had made the call for an ambulance and it had only been a few minutes before one arrived just for him. Given the chaos that the city was currently in, Cranky was happy to know that the police, in cooperation with the hospital had secured a route to get civilians to safety. Upon arriving at the hospital, he was greeted by a Dr. Hursch, one of the last surviving doctors who worked there.
He remembered Hursch giving him some shots and bandaging him up quite well. Cranky looked down at his shoulder, realizing for the first time since waking up that he was half naked. The bandage was wrapped around his shoulder and across his broad chest. He searched around the bed for his black T-shirt, realizing how cold he felt.
Cranky found the black shirt sitting in a crumpled pile on the floor next to the bed. He debated for a second whether it would be a smart idea putting it on, seeing as how the entire city was infected with something, and he wasn't entirely sure how the infection spread. He looked at his shoulder where the open wound sat nice and raw, now tightly bandaged up. He figured of all the places in the city, the hospital would still be sterile at least, especially if Hursch was brave enough to wrap him up in its bandages. He doubted the good doctor would be stupid enough to wrap an infected bandage around an open wound, risking having Cranky turn into a zombie. As if they needed another one.
A large crash caught Cranky's attention. It sounded like something metallic crashing into the tile flooring of the hospital, just outside the room door. And judging from the volume of the noise, it must've been a really heavy metallic object that had crashed. The next sound that Cranky registered sent chills up his spine. It sounded like wet lips kissing the floor – extremely wet, slimy lips. They were strong, indicating heavy mass, and reoccurred at the rate of … footsteps?
"Shit," Cranky cursed to himself. Something was in here, and his gut was telling him it wasn't human. He hoped to hell it was a zombie – at least he faced zombies before. But it was this uncertainty that was getting him really nervous. Glancing across the room, sitting a few feet against the wall was the shotgun that he'd been carrying this whole time. The mere sight of the weapon brought him great relief, but whatever the creature was, it was a little too close to the room door. If it chose to bust its way in … Deciding against reaching for the weapon – it would have taken too much time and he would've probably made some noise in the process – Cranky got up silently from the bed, biting his lip from crying out in pain as his wounds screamed bloody murder. He lowered his body as silently as he could to the cold floor and swiped his shirt as he crawled under the bed.
He lay there on his belly with the shirt protecting his bare torso from the chilly floor. Cranky was still in pain from the wounds, making it hard for him to breathe, forcing his breath to come out in short gasps. He forced himself to breathe as regularly as he could, so he wouldn't be as audible. From where he lay, Cranky could see the shotgun sitting there, leaning against the wall, waiting to be used.
The door to Cranky's room opened suddenly, followed by a rush of cold air – and a pair of inhuman legs stepped into full view. It looked as if they acted like legs or some kind of support device for the creature – but they weren't made of flesh and bone. No, it looked as if they were made of thousands upon thousands of little slugs or … leeches! Cranky put a hand over his mouth and tried not to gag at the sight. The sounds of their wet, slimy movements didn't help his stomach either. He could feel his hot breath escaping from his nose and mouth against his fingers. Was the creature sensitive to heat? And if so, how sensitive was it? Could it sense fear? Were the little leeches covering its legs able to see him as he crouched under the bed?
As the questions ran through Cranky's mind, there was another metallic clash, only this one was closer. From his peripheral vision, he could see the cause of the noise. The covering of the room's vent had crashed to the floor. The twisted piece of metal lay close to the bed, just inches from Cranky's reach. He kept his eyes on the legs of the creature, with skin that looked like it could eat him, and saw them lift off the ground, and out of his vision. Within a few seconds, the slimy, wet movements of the leeches could no longer be heard. Just to be safe, Cranky waited under the bed for another few moments until he was certain the creature was gone. Those few moments felt like an eternity, and the silent seconds that followed tortured him. He wanted to get out and grab the shotgun, but he was too afraid. For all he knew, the thing could've been suctioned to the ceiling, waiting for him to come out of hiding.
Getting tired of just lying there against the cold floor, he crawled cautiously from under the bed, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. There was nothing there, just white, sterile ceiling. Cranky was able to breathe a sigh of relief before continuing his hunt for Cindy. He put on his T-shirt as he headed towards the shotgun, picking it up and holding the firearm close to his side. He wasn't going to get caught without a weapon anymore. At least if he ever ran out of ammunition, he could always use the gun itself as a melee weapon.
XXXXX
The hospital's corridors were eerily dark and quiet. The passage to his left was cut of by a barred shutter. Cranky placed the shotgun on the floor and took a firm grasp of the bars, lifting upward with all his might. Either the shutter was bolted down or it was just too heavy for him to lift. Whatever the case, he wasn't going to pass through here. Perhaps he could crawl through the vents? But he changed his mind quickly, considering that leech monster was using the ventilation system as a way of getting around the hospital, probably to get past the shutters too. So Cranky headed right and rounded a corner, seeing a beautiful sight.
There was a flight of stairs leading down! The stairs leading to the higher levels were shuttered off as well, but it wasn't like he was going to head for the rooftop. But then again, was leaving through the lobby such a smart idea? It was a tough choice, taking his chances in the hospital with the leech monster, or on the streets with hoards of zombies.
Deciding to try some other options before having to resort to that method of exit, Cranky headed towards the elevator on the opposite end of the hall, passing a door on his left titled "Nurse Center", the letters engraved into a metal plate screwed to the wooden door. The tapped the call button for the elevator but it didn't even light up. Cranky tapped it again, pushing it harder into the wall, but no results were yielded. The power must've been off. That could explain the darkness of the hospital too, come to think of it.
Just as he turned around to check out the nurse center, he heard the whir of power being restored, realizing the generator must've kicked in. Some of the lights in the hall turned on but about half of them remained off, indicating burnt out bulbs. At least he wouldn't have to check out the nurse center in darkness. Holstering the shotgun, he turned the knob of the door and pushed it open, stepping into the room.
A zombie greeted him. He could smell the thing before seeing it. It was a nurse, oddly enough. Half of her face had been peeled off. A skeletal grin smiled at him from one half of her face, while the other licked hungrily at the air with a blistered tongue as she lay her undead vision on him. Her uniform was tattered in several places, stained with a creative variety of bodily fluids. A lazy moan escaped her mouth as she lunged for Cranky.
Frowning in disgust, he raised his shotgun and aimed it at her head. She must've been some kind of super zombie. She dodged the barrel of the gun and continued on her merry was towards Cranky, pushing her disgusting, rotting body against his as she tried to take a bite from his wounded shoulder. He kept her at bay with the gun against her throat, making sure those teeth wouldn't get anywhere near him. He wrestled with the zombie nurse for a few moments, he quickly grew tired of the game and pushed her away with his foot. He pumped the shotgun and fire, shattering the nurse's skull with a single round, sending shards of bone and wet brain matter all over the opposite wall.
"Did you hear that?" someone said, from out in the hallway, sounding nervous and terrified. Cranky's heart leapt with joy as he heard the voices of other human beings. He didn't realize that despite only a few hours by himself in the hospital room – with most of those hours spent sleeping – he was missing the company of other people already. Considering the creatures lurking about in here, he found it hard to blame himself.
"That sounded like a gunshot," a deep, booming voice said.
"Do you think we should check it out?"
Cranky opened the door to the nurse center to see a hefty man dressed in a security guard uniform and a beautiful restaurant waitress standing beside him. It was her – it was Cindy. Cranky couldn't help but let a smile creep across his face. He didn't know if it was from laying eyes upon her or the fact that there were other people there, probably a mixture of both. Then he noticed their guns pointed at him.
"It's okay," he said, raising his hands, "I'm human – still." She might have been a sweet, harmless looking petite waitress but in the course of the last few days, she'd certainly learned how to use a gun. No wonder she was still alive.
"Thank goodness," the man said, as the two of them lowered their firearms.
"Another survivor," Cindy said, putting a hand to her mouth in awe.
"Did you guys see that monster?" Cranky asked, referring to the leech creature that terrorized him minutes earlier.
Cindy and the man exchanged worried glances. "So we're not the only ones being stalked," the man commented. "I'm not sure if that's good or bad."
"You're welcome to join us," Cindy offered. "We could use a little more help getting out of here."
"Well they say three's a crowd," Cranky said, offering a small joke to lighten the atmosphere.
"Then try three squared," the man replied. "That makes nine of us, if you're willing to join."
Cranky shrugged, "the more, the merrier I suppose."
"Nice to meet you," the man said, extending a hand, "Mark Wilkins."
Cindy smiled that sweet smile of hers Cranky remembered back at the bar, "Cindy Lennox."
"We've met," Cranky replied, taking her hand into his. He planted a kiss on the back of her palm. "Craig Crankurt, at your service."
"You're quite the charmer, aren't you?" she giggled. "You're that tourist who just came into town, right?"
"Yeah."
"Is your friend okay?" she asked.
"My friend?" Who was she talking about? Oh that's right, Cranky came into town to see his little brother, Kenny. "Yeah, he's doing okay. I left him with some people who are taking good care of him."
"So there are others alive," Mark said, his eyes widening with surprise and hope.
"Yeah, but I doubt there's anything we can do for them at this point. We have to focus on getting ourselves out of here first. Where are the others you speak of?"
"Kevin, Alyssa and Yoko are checking out the B2 level of the hospital right now," Mark explained. "George, Jim and David have gone to the rooftop to check if we can escape by roof hopping."
"I guess the desperate will do what they can to survive," Cranky said, scratching his head.
"Oh believe me, we've done it already," Mark replied, sharing some kind of inside joke with his companion. "Cindy and I were looking around on the B1 level, but we've come across a locked door – there was a notice saying something about a keycard that we'd need in order to gain access."
"We're searching for the card right now, checking as much of the hospital as we can get to," Cindy finished. "And then we ran into you."
"Why would you want to gain access to some strange room?" Cranky asked. "Isn't the priority right now to find and secure an escape route? The sewers should be safer than wandering the streets."
"We also have to restock on ammunition," Mark said. "Thanks to Yoko and her handy knapsack, we're able to store most of our stock in there. But I don't want to take any chances. If we can find more, we'll take it."
"That's a pretty handy looking shotgun you've got there," Cindy said, eyeing his firearm curiously. "Do you have any ammunition for that thing?"
"I'm running pretty low, myself," Cranky replied, holding the gun up. "I've been trying to conserve ammunition by using this baby as a bat."
"Come on," Mark said, leading the way down the stairs at the opposite end of the corridor from the nurse center. "We need to find that keycard. Have you been down this way yet?"
"No."
"Good, then let's get this place checked out."
XXXXX
"I can't believe you're making me do this," Alyssa said nervously, her arms rigid by her side. She looked fearfully at her companions through a wide window, standing at some kind of computer panel concentrating hard at whatever it displayed.
"I can't figure out how this thing works," Kevin said, brushing his brown bangs out of his eyes. He rubbed his stubbly chin with a gloved hand as he tried figuring out what the buttons did.
"I'm not sure it's a good idea messing around with this thing when we don't know what it does," Yoko said, hunched over the panel with her weight on her palms. "After all, it says we're in a temperature room … for all you know, you could end up cooking us alive in here."
"Hmm …" Kevin ignored Yoko's warnings and moved a lever up. The room suddenly filled with the hum of unseen machinery at work. Kevin and Yoko exchanged worried glances then looked around the room in confusion. They didn't feel any different, or see anything strange. What had the machine done?
"Oh my goodness, Alyssa!" Yoko cried, pointing at the journalist through the window. The room Alyssa was standing in was separated from the control panel by a wall and an automatic sliding door. Whatever temperature change Kevin had initiated, it had taken effect in the room in which she was standing in right now. Yoko began fanning herself rapidly. She looked at them with a terrified expression, slicing her hand across her throat to tell Kevin to cut it out, whatever he had done.
"Holy shit!" Kevin cried, and he began to panic, trembling hands flying all over the control panel. "Hold on, girl, I'm gonna shut this damn thing off!"
But the police officer was taking far too long to figure things out than Yoko liked. She took control of the situation, squeezing her way in to where he stood, shoving Kevin aside with her hip. She grasped the level tightly and pulled it downwards. Another mechanical hum sounded as steam began filtering from the vents from the wall. From inside the room, Alyssa seemed to calm down a little and was now running for the sliding door. It opened with a whirr and she stepped out, breathing heavily. Her face was flushed red and her face was coated with a thin layer of sweat.
Kevin ran to her side. "Are you okay, Alyssa? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to …"
She slapped him hard on the shoulder. "We were supposed to trap the leech creature in there! It's bad enough you used me as bait, but you could've killed me in there! Next time, stick to sharp-shooting! I'll handle the brainwork!"
"Wait, hold on a minute," Yoko said, holding up a hand. "We could use that room as a weapon …"
"That's it!" Alyssa cried with joy. "Instead of trapping the leech creature in there, we could cook it, like you almost did to me!"
"Yes," Yoko agreed, "but how are we going to get the thing in there? I doubt you want to be used as bait again."
"Well we could always use the bozo," Alyssa said, elbowing Kevin in the ribs.
"Hey, it was an accident!" he said, raising his hands in defense. "I'm sorry, okay?"
"There was a cabinet in the last room," Yoko remembered, "I saw it on our way in here. I think it stores donor blood."
"And how would you know that?"
"It said so on the cabinet label," she replied simply. "Now if the leech creature is anything like normal leeches, we could lure it in there with the blood."
"First," Kevin said, extracting his custom handgun from its holster, "lets make sure that cabinet's got some blood left. If it's true that the leech monster likes blood, it might have gotten to the supply already."
"Not if it's refrigerated," Alyssa suggested. "I've covered stories on the city's blood supply shortage because of the lazy-ass federal government. And I know for a fact that the blood has to be refrigerated for it to be reusable. Unless their sense of smell has increased a hundred-fold, there's no way the leeches could have detected it."
"Only one way to find out… Let's go."
XXXXX
Cranky frowned with disgust as he entered the doctor's office on the first floor of the hospital. This room reeked of decay, indicating corpses, or even worse, zombies nearby. The door led to a large room, most of it blocked from this angle by the side of a large partition, forcing whoever entered to walk around it to gain access to the rest of the room. The wall was to the right and the passageway was three to four feet wide at the most. Windows were built into the walls, covered by simple white curtains. Despite the smell, everything in the room appeared to be in order.
"The coast looks clear," he said, making sure to keep the shotgun pointed protectively in front of him. Cindy was the next to step into the room, looking around her nervously for any danger. Mark followed her, his eyes and handgun trained on anything that could approach them from behind.
"Oh," Cindy groaned, pinching her nose, "get a load of that smell!"
"We may be running low on herbs," Mark said, closing the door behind him. "Check around to see if they've got any lying around here."
"Some ammo would be nice, too," Cranky noted.
Cindy headed right for the cabinets across the room from where they stood, decorated on the tops by potted plants. Cranky stood right where he was, keeping watch for any of the undead that might want a piece of them. Mark turned around the partition to the left and checked out a doctor's working station and reeled back in horror. The body of a dead nurse lay at the table, probably recently dead as her body hadn't completely rot away. Her dried, crinkly hair was tied into a bun at the back of her head. Her skin was gray and her full lips dark blue, set in an open mouth with eyes wide open. This was the source of the odor of death in the room.
"What's the matter!" Cranky asked, his voice straining with tension as he poked his head around the partition.
"It's nothing," Mark replied, waving him off with one hand, the other clutching his chest to calm his rattled nerves. "I'm getting too old for this, I tell you."
"Anything else worth noting?" Cindy asked, approaching the middle-aged security guard. "I've found some blue herbs on the counter there – probably for decoration. It's kind of funny, actually, using medicinal herbs as decoration, especially in a place like this. How fitting." Cranky and Mark stared at her for a moment with cocked eyebrows, not following her twisted sense of humor. "Oh, nevermind! Just grab that keycard lying on the table … a keycard!"
"That's right," Mark replied. He reached for it, careful to not touch the corpse that lay spread out in front of him. He held his breath as he reached over, not wanting to take in any of the pungent odor. Who knew if the virus could be spread through the air? As he had the card in his grasp, the body unexpectedly came to life, jolting the three survivors from the momentary calm. It seized Mark by the forearm and bit down on it, but the leather of his security jacket was strong enough to hold off the zombie's strength. But it would only be a matter of moments before the creature's teeth broke through the material and into his skin, depositing the virus into his body.
"Kill it, kill it!" Mark screamed, struggling to pull himself free from the undead's surprisingly strong grasp.
Cindy fell back in fear and surprise, the shock disenabling her to do anything to help Mark in his perilous situation. Cranky was quicker, raising the shotgun in an instant with a single arm. He pulled the trigger and sprayed the walls with the zombie's cranial matter and crimson blood. What little that remained of its head fell back to the desk as its whole body convulsed with the movements of dying nerves, and finally went limp. Mark removed with hand from the zombie's mouth – or the lower jaw at least. The upper portion had shattered with the power of the gun blast.
"It didn't break the skin, did it?" Cindy asked with wide, worried eyes.
Mark shook his head. "No," he replied, sighing in relief. "But it would have in a few more seconds. If it wasn't for this jacket …"
"Let's forget about it," Cranky suggested. "We're lucky, but we have no time to count our stars if we want to make it out of here alive. What's that keycard say?"
"Right." Mark, in his sudden surprise attack, had momentarily forgotten about the new find. He picked it up from the floor, where only now he realized he'd dropped it in the brief scuttle, and eyed it carefully. "It says B1 on it. I think this might be just what we're looking for."
Cindy wiped her sweaty forehead with an arm and sighed. "Thank goodness," she said. "What are the chances it'd be left out here in the open? Imagine if the card had been on one of these walking zombies …"
"No star counting," Cranky reminded softly, as he headed back for the door from which they entered, shouldering the shotgun as he went. "Let's get down to the basement and open that door you were talking about …"