18: The Hounds Of Hell

Dogs.

Three snarling, slavering, hunger-crazed Dobermans, tearing savagely at the dead man's flesh, their jaws dripping with blood and specked with rabid foam. Like the zombies, their eyes were a blank greyish-white, and they looked like something straight out of Hell.

"Maybe we shoulda gone the other way," said Jack quietly.

"I think you're right. Quick, let's go before they notice us."

One of the dogs stopped eating. Very slowly, it raised its head. A growl started in the back of its throat, low and menacing at first, then it rose in volume and pitch and became an angry snarl.

"Uh-oh," said Jack quietly. "We be in trouble…"

The other two dogs looked up at the sound of the growls, and stepped over the body. Never mind a stiffening corpse, they'd seen something far more interesting to eat…

Jack and Lisa took several steps backwards as the dogs moved forward.

"Uh, nice doggy? Good doggy?" ventured Jack.

The first dog snarled again.

"I don't think that's going to work, Jack," said Lisa, trembling with fear. She didn't like dogs even at the best of times. And this was most definitely not the best of times.

Still snarling, the first dog leapt.

"Run!" yelled Jack.

Lisa didn't need to be told twice. She broke into a run, and Jack did the same. So, unfortunately, did the dogs. She could hear the relentless pad, pad, pad of paws on asphalt, a noise that seemed to be getting closer with every heartbeat.

She didn't look back. Nothing that she could see, not even zombie dogs, could possibly make her run any faster, and there was always the danger that if she didn't look where she was going, she might trip and fall. And then, without a doubt, the dogs would get her.

Lisa's muscles were already starting to ache, a reminder of how hopelessly out of condition she really was. She had been skipping gym class for years, denouncing it as a waste of time and calories – after all, she didn't need to lose weight, her figure was exactly right, and besides, exercise was boring.

She wished someone had told her that she might need to run away from zombie dogs some day… suddenly gym class seemed like an attractive prospect. Although anything was better than being chased by zombie dogs.

Jack, however, was still going strong. He didn't like gym class either, but he did like skating and playing basketball with the Street Rats, and he'd run away to avoid Lisa's parents so often that running was practically second nature. Jack was in good shape, and he could run much further and faster than Lisa could. He was already far ahead of her.

Then he stopped. When Lisa caught him up, she saw why. Right in front of them was a barricade. They were trapped, and almost certainly doomed. She felt like sobbing.

"Now what?" yelled Lisa.

"I gonna shoot 'em! You might wanna do the same!" Jack yelled back.

"You think that'll work?"

"You think we got a choice?"

One of the dogs leapt, but Jack managed to shoot it in mid-air; the dog gave a yelp and fell to the ground, blood pouring from a head wound. It didn't get up again.

There were still two dogs left, and they were getting closer. Jack was running out of bullets, and Lisa was already halfway through emptying her gun into a second zombie dog. Despite being riddled with bullets, the dog showed no signs of stopping, or even slowing down.

Jack glanced quickly at the barricade. No way through – no way around. Was there any way over? It was higher than their heads, but was it too high to climb? There was only one way to find out.

"We gotta climb over the barricade!" he shouted to Lisa.

"What?" shrieked Lisa. "Are you insane? It's too high! And we don't know what's on the other side!"

"It no can be worse than this!" shouted Jack. "C'mon, I help you up!"

Lisa ran over to him, and Jack helped her climb onto his shoulders. She was surprisingly heavy for someone so petite, but he ignored the weight.

"Hurry up!" he yelled. "They be comin' fast!"

Panicking, Lisa stood up and grabbed the top of the barricade, pulling herself up and scrambling over. She jumped down – and she was safe. There were no dogs or zombies or other monsters in sight.

"Jack!" she called. "It's safe, come on!"

Jack had forgotten exactly how he was going to get over a barricade that was taller than he was. There was no-one to give him a boost. Thankfully he was taller than Lisa. Could he reach the top if he jumped? The other option was being eaten alive by blood-crazed zombie Dobermans, and he had no intention of dying young if another alternative presented itself.

The dogs hurled themselves at Jack, but they were too late; Jack had already leapt up and was hanging onto the top of the barricade by his fingertips. He hauled himself up, kicking out at one dog as it snapped at his heels, and pulled himself over the barricade.

He lost his balance as he tried to get down, and fell to the ground with a bone-rattling thud, but he was so relieved to be alive and out of immediate danger that he didn't care.

"Are you all right?" said Lisa, helping him up.

"Well, the dogs dint get me," said Jack. "So yeah. I guess I be okay."

There was a loud thud as the two remaining dogs threw themselves frantically at the barricade, trying to break through, but without success - the barricade held firm.

"They can't jump over, can they?" said Lisa worriedly.

"Nah, too high. Even zombie dogs no could jump as high as that," said Jack, although he was wondering too. Could the dogs possibly get over the barricade? He didn't want to stick around and find out.

"Let's get out of here, just in case," said Lisa.

Jack nodded gratefully. He'd been thinking exactly the same thing.

----------

This had once been a very nice part of town, with lots of little shops and French-style cafes. Now it was a mess, barely recognisable as a street. It was the usual story – ruined buildings, burnt-out wrecks, crashed cars and shattered glass, fires burning everywhere. But, as yet, there were no zombies.

What's happened to our town? thought Lisa. It was so nice until the zombies came. Why are there zombies in Raccoon City? Where did they come from? And why is this happening to us?

Raccoon City had been a nice place to live once. Calm, peaceful, affluent, attractive, with everyone happily living out their lives, blissfully unaware of what was about to happen to their little town. Now Raccoon City was a place of fire and blood and broken glass, the air heavy with smoke and the stench of death, the wind carrying the distant cries of the wandering dead to the ears of those who were still alive to hear.

"I hate this," said Lisa. There was a whole mix of emotions in her voice – anger, fear, bitterness, sorrow, anxiety, and simple distaste for their current situation – but no particular tone of voice prevailed. Even so, something in her voice told Jack that something was wrong.

"You okay?" said Jack, concerned.

No, I'm not, Lisa wanted to say. It's cold and getting dark and my town is in ruins, I don't know where Mom and Dad are and I'm scared of the monsters and I want to go home but I can't, I can't ever go home again, and I'll never sleep again because every time I close my eyes I'll see that little girl, or those dogs chasing us, and I think I'm falling in love with you, but I can't ever say in case we find my parents and we escape and my parents take me away from you and it breaks our hearts…

"Fine," Lisa lied. "Just a bit cold."

Without a moment's hesitation, Jack took off his shirt and put it around Lisa's shoulders.

"Jack, this is your shirt," Lisa protested.

"I got other shirts," said Jack, shrugging off his backpack and pulling out a spare shirt. "You have that one, it be nice an' warm 'cause I been wearin' it. Look, I wear this one instead. B'sides, I already got a T-shirt on. You only got that pretty red top, an' you gonna freeze when it start gettin' dark. I dunt want you to catch cold."

Lisa felt guilty for accepting it, even though she knew Jack was right. He had his T-shirt – plain white, and maybe a little too tight, but it looked good on him – and he now had one of his spare shirts on, worn open as always. She only had her strappy red top, an old favourite of hers, and she was indeed cold.

"Keep the shirt if you want," Jack offered. "It look good on you."

Lisa had to admit that it did. The shirt was white with a navy check pattern, which went well with navy jeans and her red top, and it smelled nice; it was the musky scent of warm skin, with a hint of the aftershave that she'd bought Jack for his birthday. It was a bit too big for her, but she didn't mind – it was comforting as well as comfortable, a bit like being held by Jack even when they were standing apart.

"Mmm," said Lisa, wrapping herself up in the shirt. "I like this shirt. Thanks, Jack. This is really comfy."

"Hey, no problem," said Jack. "Glad I can help. You need anythin' else, you just say, right?"

The sound of a piece of debris falling into a fire made them both jump, and that brought all the depression and fear flooding back into Lisa's heart and mind.

"Well, I could do with a hug," said Lisa.

It had been a joke, but Jack didn't realise it. He just went over to Lisa and hugged her, taking her completely by surprise.

Lisa was about to tell him it was only a joke, but then it struck her that for the first time that day, she felt safe. So she returned the hug without saying a word, and clung on tightly to Jack, the one good thing left in a world full of evil.

Until the first zombie report had appeared in the papers, Lisa and Jack had always thought that the world was a relatively safe place, where things like zombies only existed in video games. But now that world had collapsed around them, leaving them both frightened and alone, surrounded by danger. There was no guarantee that they would make it out of the city alive, but they had to hope. Hope was all they had left. That, and each other.