11: Martial Law

Days passed, but Raccoon City's fear didn't. Every day the newspapers reported new "cannibal murder" cases, attacks by dogs and birds, deaths from the mysterious virus, and more sightings of "zombies" in downtown.

That was bad enough. What was worse was Lisa's rapidly deteriorating family life. Her parents were almost never home now, and when they were, they argued constantly, shouting about something called the L-Project. They no longer paid the slightest bit of attention to Lisa, and it was getting depressing.

At school Julie chattered on endlessly about the party, and how much fun it was going to be – despite all the gossip and rumours about the zombies, and all the newspaper reports, none of the students in Raccoon City High seemed too bothered about what was reputedly going on in the town.

"It's just sensationalism in the media."

"I bet they made it all up to sell more papers."

"My daddy says it's not true."

"I haven't seen anything weird."

"Even if there is something going on, it's nothing to do with us."

"It's all happening in downtown, isn't it?"

"We're perfectly safe."

"I'm sure the police have everything under control."

Only Jack and Lisa were worried. Neither of them believed in zombies, but they knew that there was some kind of trouble brewing in Raccoon City, even if their classmates didn't.

A big clue had come on Thursday the 24th of September, when martial law had been declared in Raccoon City – the official reason was that due to the increasing number of cases of the mystery virus, the authorities wanted to contain the disease before it spread to neighbouring towns.

The reaction of the townspeople was bizarre to say the least. On one hand, hundreds of people were frantically trying – and failing - to get out of the city, their cars stuffed with personal possessions. On the other hand, just as many of Raccoon City's citizens were cheerfully going about their business, insisting that everybody was overreacting and that it would all be over soon.

"I got a real bad feelin' 'bout this," said Jack, as he and Lisa watched some police officers setting up a roadblock near the edge of the city. "I think we should get outta town right now."

"We can't, remember?" said Lisa irritably. "They blocked off all the roads. There's no way out of town. Believe me, I should know. Mom and Dad drove round for hours this morning trying to leave, and every time we even got close to the city limits we were turned back. We're trapped. Like -"

"Rats," Jack finished.

"Exactly."

They both sighed, and carried on watching the roadblock. The sun was starting to go down, and the light cast a soft pink glow over the whole scene. If it hadn't been for the ominous presence of the roadblock, thought Lisa vaguely, it would have been quite romantic.

Jack thought so too. In fact, part of him was suggesting that now might be a good time to ask her if –

No, no, I no can do it, he thought. I be too scared. What if she say no? Or what if she laugh at me? Oh, God, I prob'ly die if she laugh at me... I dunt want her to say no, please dunt let her say no. Okay. Okay. I gonna ask her - no, no, I be too scared to ask! But I never gonna know if I dunt ask… well, here goes…

"Lise?" said Jack nervously. He could already feel himself starting to blush.

"Yes?" said Lisa.

"I dunt really know how I gonna say this," said Jack awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "It be real difficult. I be wantin' to ask you for a long time…"

"What is it, Jack?" said Lisa.

Jack opened his mouth, and to his horror he realised that he'd forgotten what he was going to say.

"I – uh, I mean, uh, would you…" he trailed off, unsure of what to do next.

"Yes?" said Lisa, looking at him expectantly.

"Oh man," Jack groaned, and buried his head in his hands. He took a deep breath, looked back up at Lisa, and tried again.

"What I be tryin' to say is," he began, "Will you - "

"Hey, you kids! Move along, will you? Nothing to see here," one of the police officers called. "Come on, it's nearly time for curfew. Go home, yeah?"

In the privacy of his own head Jack swore loudly and repeatedly, in both English and Spanish. Why, why, why? he thought. It ain't fair! I be just 'bout to ask her to go out with me, an' now this stupid cop guy hadda go an' wreck everythin'!

"Sorry, Jack," said Lisa. "I'd better go now. Ask me tomorrow instead, right?"

"Right," said Jack, cursing inwardly. "See you later, yeah?"

"You got it. Well, see you tomorrow. Bye, Jack!" Lisa called as she started crossing the street.

"Yeah, bye," said Jack glumly. With one last look at the setting sun, he started to make his way home.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" muttered Jack. "You a damn fool, Jack Carpenter. Why the hell dunt you just tell Lise you love her? It ain't hard – oh, who I tryin' to kid? It be the hardest thing in the world."

Without warning, something grabbed Jack's ankle. He gave a start, and looked down at what was impeding his progress – it was a beggar, sitting on the sidewalk. His skin was covered with scratches and patches of sore-looking skin, and his eyes were a milky white; he was blind.

"Pleeeaaase," groaned the beggar, clutching Jack's ankle even tighter. "Itchy, hungry. No money hospital. Help meeee… so hungry…"

"Agh!" cried Jack, realising that the man was infected. "Let me go!"

"So hungry… itchy… need hospital…"

"Let go!"

"Feeed meee?"

"No!"

Panicking, Jack broke free and ran away. The beggar's plaintive cries followed him down the street:

"Itchy… help meeee…"

----------

The door was open – not just unlocked, but actually open and swinging in the breeze. Jack stared at it, wondering if one of his aunt's clients had left it open. It certainly wasn't like Aunt Rosa to leave the front door open.

Very cautiously, Jack went into the apartment.

"Aunt Rosa?" he called.

Silence. Jack felt uneasy. Something wasn't right…

He looked around. There was no-one in the living room. Still calling his aunt's name, Jack checked the kitchen, the bathroom, and his aunt's room, but there was no-one there.

"What the hell…?" said Jack to himself.

There was a faint noise in the other bedroom. Frowning, Jack went to investigate.

"Aunt Rosa?" he said, puzzled. "What you be doin' in my room?"

Jack's aunt was lying on his bed, apparently asleep, but her eyes flickered open as he came into the room.

"Jack?" she said, in Spanish. "Oh, I'm sorry. I came in here to open a window, and I just felt exhausted, so I lay down for a minute and I guess I fell asleep. I've been feeling tired all afternoon."

"Business?" said Jack.

"Yes. You know, one of my clients bit me this morning when you were out. Can you believe that? Must've got a bit carried away."

Jack felt his blood go cold.

"He bit you?" he said quietly. "Let me see."

"Don't fuss, Jack. It's nothing," his aunt protested, as Jack came over to look.

"Auntie, it's important," Jack argued. "Now where did he bite you?"

"My arm," said Aunt Rosa, lifting up the sleeve of her shirt. "It itches a little."

Jack stifled a gasp as he saw the bite-marks.

"Auntie, this is bad. You have to get to the hospital right away!" he told her.

"Why?"

"Haven't you been following the news?"

"I don't understand the news, Jack! You know I don't speak English!"

"I'm talking about those murders, and that weird disease! They think the two things are related. The disease is dangerous, Auntie, people have died already! First something bites you and the wound gets infected, then you start itching and feeling tired! After that comes headaches, nausea, vomiting, more itching, rapid mental degeneration and death!"

"Don't tell me you're starting to believe this zombie nonsense," said Aunt Rosa.

"I don't believe it – at least, I don't think so," said Jack. "But I do believe in the disease, and I know you've got to get to hospital right now!"

"Jack, I'm fine - "

Aunt Rosa stopped, and started to cough violently.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she gasped.

"I'm calling an ambulance," said Jack, backing towards the door.

"Don't be stupid, Jack," said Aunt Rosa, in between coughs. "I'm all right."

"No, you're not!" Jack shouted. "Aunt Rosa, if you've got this disease, then you have to get to the hospital right away. If you don't, you'll die!"

He ran to the phone in the living room and called 911.

Later, as the ambulance drove away with his stricken aunt in the back, it struck Jack that Aunt Rosa might die anyway. After all, there was still no cure…

As this thought sank in, Jack's initial adrenaline-fuelled panic evaporated, only to be replaced by a deep feeling of nervous dread. He felt cold, sick and scared. What would happen to him if his aunt died? He'd be all alone. He'd lose his home – he was old enough to get a job, true, but he wouldn't earn anywhere near enough money to pay the rent, and Mr Ziegler wouldn't let him stay there for free. And he had nowhere else to go, no-one to turn to.

Ever since his mother had died, Aunt Rosa had looked after him with barely a word of complaint. She'd gone hungry on countless occasions in order to put food in his mouth and clothes on his back, she'd refused clients in order to nurse him whenever he was ill, and she'd always been there for him when he needed her. She'd cared for him as if he was her own son instead of her nephew, and Jack knew she loved him dearly, despite all the trouble he'd caused her over the years. He loved his aunt, and the thought of losing her as well was almost more than he could stand.

"Oh, Auntie, please be okay," he whispered. "Please. You be all I got."