15: Leaving Home For The Last Time
Jack sat by the window in his living room, looking out and wondering what to do. He hadn't believed in zombies before his aunt died, and even afterwards he still wasn't sure if he believed it. But now there was no doubt that zombies did in fact exist, and that they were all over town.
The thing that had finally convinced him had been a television report aired earlier that day. He'd sat down in front of the television with a bowl of cereal and turned on the breakfast news, and had watched in horror as the reporter was grabbed from behind and ripped apart by someone who looked like he'd been buried for six months and then dug up again. This had been followed by screams, some shaky footage shot by someone running with a camera, then a bloodcurdling scream that was mercifully interrupted by hissing static. Needless to say, he hadn't finished his cereal.
When he looked out of the window, he could see a few people shuffling aimlessly down the street, their faces blank, their clothes bloodstained and their skin the bluish-white hue of the dead. The glass in the window muffled the sounds from outside, but he could just make out a few faint moaning noises.
Where had they all come from? Even yesterday there had only been one or two odd-looking people wandering around. Now there seemed to be dozens, hundreds of the things he now knew to be zombies.
Jack's first instinct was to stay put, but there was no point in that. The problem wouldn't just go away, and he couldn't stay in here forever. Eventually the food would run out, or one of those things would come crashing through the door and get him just like they got his aunt.
So he couldn't stay here. That was definite. Perhaps he could escape; arm himself to the teeth, shoot anything in his way, climb over the barricades and run as far away from Raccoon City as he could. Yes, that might work. Either way, it was better than sitting here and waiting to die.
Then Lisa drifted into Jack's thoughts like a ghost, and he realised that he couldn't leave. Not without her. He'd rather die than abandon her to the endless hordes of the undead.
Jack tried to imagine what would happen if he did leave town without going back for Lisa. Would she be able to escape on her own? Or would she too fall victim to the zombies? The thought of being alive while the girl he loved lay dead in an empty house, with those things feasting on her corpse, was completely beyond the pale.
No. He had to save her – and if she was already dead, then he'd kill himself. He didn't want to live in a world without her.
"It's okay, Lise. I gonna rescue you," he said aloud. "I just hope I ain't too late."
Before he left, Jack scoured the whole apartment for anything that might be useful; his skateboard, the first-aid kit from the bathroom, spare clothes from his room, some food from the kitchen cupboards, and one of the kitchen knives tucked into his belt as an afterthought.
"What else?" Jack said to himself, and then he remembered that his aunt always used to keep a gun in her bedroom, just in case one of her clients suddenly turned nasty.
He hurried into his aunt's room and eventually came across the gun, which had probably been hidden under the pillows but had since fallen underneath Aunt Rosa's bed. More searching turned up a box of bullets in the drawer of her nightstand.
"Gracias, Auntie," said Jack under his breath.
Jack took one last look at each room in the apartment that had been his home for a few short months. Each room brought back memories – his aunt washing dishes in the kitchen while he told her about his first day at Raccoon City High; staying up all night watching horror movies and falling asleep on the couch ten minutes before he had to go to school; Aunt Rosa cursing as she tried to unblock the bathroom sink; sitting on his bed trying to write a short story for an English assignment; Aunt Rosa digging out a photograph album from her bottom drawer and showing him a picture of his mother.
He'd never be here again. Everything – the threadbare couch, the monochrome television, the striped curtains in the kitchen, the temperamental bathroom taps, the heavy metal posters taped to his bedroom walls – would stay like this forever, exactly as he left it.
Jack sighed as he left the apartment, closing the door carefully behind him – not that it mattered any more. No-one would be crazy enough to worry about looting when monsters roamed the streets.
The stairs creaked beneath his feet as he went down to street-level. Very slowly, Jack opened the front door, and found himself standing face to face with a zombie. Her eyes were milky-white and sightless, and her golden hair was matted with drying blood.
He recognised the pale, expressionless face. Just a few days earlier he'd seen her standing next to Alena, crying as she realised that Valerio had just been shot dead before her very eyes.
"Columbine," he whispered. "Oh, no…"
The thing that had once been his friend Columbine moaned as it reached out towards him; Jack dodged just in time and ran for his life, praying that he could outrun these things and that they really were as stupid in real life as they were in the movies.
The streets of downtown Raccoon City flashed past Jack's eyes as he ran towards uptown, ignoring his protesting leg-muscles and dodging the undead. Some of them he vaguely recognised as fellow Street Rats, but there was no time to mourn for his not-quite-dead friends; he had to get to Lisa.
Jack didn't stop running until he reached Lisa's front door.
"Lise!" he bellowed, pounding on the door. "Lise, you there?"
----------
Lisa heard Jack at the front door, and relief washed over her like warm water. He was alive!
"I'm coming, Jack!" she yelled, throwing the back door open and running through the kitchen and hall. She opened the front door, and nearly cried with relief when she saw Jack standing on the doorstep, shaken but unhurt.
"Oh, Jack, you're okay!" Lisa exclaimed. "I was so worried… what's going on, Jack? Why is everyone turning into zombies?"
"I got no idea," said Jack hopelessly. "They say you get bit by one an' you turn into one too, but where they come from in the first place? You should see downtown, it be like Night of the Livin' Dead out there! We got zombies all over the place!"
"I know," said Lisa quietly. "There was a zombie at my birthday party – one of my guests, Paul, he didn't look well, and then he attacked Alex, he killed him, and everyone was running and screaming…"
Lisa swallowed hard, trying not to cry, and continued:
"And now everyone's dead, and I can't call the police, and my mom and dad aren't answering at work, and – and – oh, Jack, I'm so scared!"
Lisa couldn't keep the tears at bay any longer; the first one fell like a raindrop and splashed on her red camisole top, staining the material a slightly darker red. She felt ashamed; she hardly ever cried, but here she was, standing on the doorstep and sobbing like a frightened child.
Not wanting to see the dismayed expression on Jack's face, Lisa closed her eyes. She felt the wind blowing through her hair, the tears falling from her eyes – and then she felt a warm, soft hand wiping away her tears.
"'S okay, Lise," said Jack gently. "'S okay. We gonna make it through this, I promise. Dunt cry, Lise. Please dunt cry. You gonna make me cry too. I always start cryin' when I see other people cry."
"I can't help it!" Lisa sobbed. "I'm so frightened! Oh, God, I don't want to die!"
"You ain't gonna die, Lise," said Jack. "I ain't gonna let those things hurt you, I promise. C'mon, dry you eyes an' get you stuff. We need to get outta town b'fore it be too late."
"What about my parents?" said Lisa, wiping her eyes.
Jack had forgotten all about Lisa's parents.
"Where they at?" he asked.
"They work for Umbrella," said Lisa. "You know, the pharmaceuticals company? They make medicines and vaccines and stuff. There are a couple of Umbrella facilities in town, but my parents work in a lab at Umbrella's headquarters."
"Okay, we go look for you parents first, then we get outta town," said Jack. "Dunt know how we gonna get all the way there when there be zombies all over town, but never mind. We better go see if there be anythin' useful we can take with us."
They went inside, closing the front door behind them.
"So what do we need?" said Lisa.
"Weapons," said Jack simply. "Food, warm clothes, maybe a first aid kit. But you gotta pack light. You no can run away from zombies with a wardrobe on you back."
"Right," Lisa agreed. "You pack some food from the kitchen, and I'll get some clothes and stuff from upstairs."
"If you got anythin' you no can bear to leave behind, you better take it," Jack suggested. "Somehow I dunt think we be comin' back here real soon."
"I think you're right," said Lisa. "Okay, I'll be down in a minute."
Jack nodded, and Lisa ran upstairs to her room. She had always wondered what she'd take with her if she had to leave home in a hurry and couldn't go back; now she had the perfect opportunity to find out.
Lisa looked around at all the things in her bedroom, and suddenly none of her possessions seemed terribly important any more. All her clothes, jewellery, makeup, CDs, posters and ornaments – there was nothing here that she couldn't live without. Certainly nothing that she valued more than her own life.
She picked out a favourite bracelet from her jewellery box, and one or two pieces of clothing that she would have regretted leaving behind, but nothing else.
Was there anything else up here that might come in handy? There was a first-aid kit in the medicine cabinet; maybe that could be useful.
Lisa went down the hall to the bathroom and opened the door.
----------
Jack was sitting at the kitchen table when he heard the scream from upstairs. A door slammed, and Lisa came running downstairs.
"Lise? Lise, what is it?" he called, getting to his feet.
"Zombie… in the bathroom… it almost got me," said Lisa, gasping for breath.
"We better get outta here," said Jack, and he went to look out of the kitchen window to see if there were any zombies in the street outside.
"Is it safe?" said Lisa.
"No," he said. "But much better than stayin' here, right?"
"I agree," said Lisa, shuddering. "Oh, God, that was horrible! I've never seen anything so disgusting and creepy in my whole life. And that thing's inside my house…"
There was a loud thud from upstairs, followed by another, as if someone was trying to break down one of the doors. Lisa looked up nervously, half expecting the zombie to come crashing down through the ceiling.
"Any zombies out there, Jack?" said Lisa.
"No," he said, turning away from the window. "Coast be clear as crystal."
"Good. I don't want to stay here another second. We're out of here!"
A splintering crash above them indicated that the zombie had just succeeding in breaking down the Hartleys' bathroom door. With a panicky squeak, Lisa grabbed Jack's hand and pulled him right out of the room, down the hall and out through the front door before he even had chance to protest.
"You know," said Lisa, as they went down the street, "If you'd told me two weeks ago that I'd be leaving home at sixteen, I would have laughed in your face. Funny how the world works."
"It ain't funny at all," said Jack, frowning.
"I meant funny as in weird, not funny as in "ha ha", Jack," said Lisa.
"I know that. I mean the world sucks. Why'd my aunt have to die? An' my mama? An' why my dad gotta be in prison? Why can the world no just leave me alone for once?" he said angrily.
Lisa didn't know what to say to that, so she stayed quiet until they'd turned the corner and crossed over to the next street.
"Lise?" said Jack.
"Yes?"
"I forget to say happy birthday. Although I get the impression it ain't a real happy birthday an' it prob'ly gonna get much worse."
"True. But it'll be the happiest birthday of my life if we manage to get out of here alive. I hope my parents are okay."
"I sure they be fine," said Jack, although privately he doubted it.
"I hope you're right," said Lisa.
"Only one way to find out," said Jack. "We gotta get to Umbrella fast."