Raccoon City : Demon's Gate
Chapter 3
September 27, 1998
12:32 A.M.
An hour ago, relentless pounding of an undead on the other side of the barricaded shed doors and the incessant groaning of the beast had woken them all up. Ten minutes later, it pulled itself away, apparently giving up and heading off to search for a meal that would be easier to grab. Shortly after that, the group had fallen asleep.
She didn't move until the snores of Kristin and the grumbles of Sarah let her know that the two were undoubtedly in the realm of dreams and nightmares, and even then her footsteps were quiet and slow. She didn't want to wake either of them up because of her early morning trek - something her body rebelled against, but her mind forced on her. She couldn't rest until she knew the answer, and she didn't want to abandon those she was about to check on by not coming to their aid.
Stifling a yawn, Rowan reached to her left, feeling around for an item she might be able to use as a weapon to fend off the beasts as she headed out. Her hand sought out a thick piece of metal with one curved, sharp edge - a crowbar - and she dragged it out from under the pile of various other things before moving to her left. The lantern that was turned on a little after they arrived in this safety zone gifted her with the sight of a piece of cardboard near the door. She snatched it up and, managing to find a black marker admist the other things, wrote on it a small note:
I'm heading off to get some food. Be back in a little bit. And don't worry, I'm armed.
If you follow me, I'll be sure to kick your asses. >:o
-Rowan
Grinning, Rowan looked down at her note, idly wondering if it would be the last thing she would ever do or say to her friends, even if it hadn't come from her throat. Shaking her head, the girl turned, brushing back a locke of her brown hair from her eyes. She snatched up a broom that was leaning against the wall of the shed. She slid the stick of the broom through one of the handles on the inside part of the door, and, opening the other, sidles outside and pushed the rest of the broom partially into the other handle, then closed the door, hoping that it would be enough to keep the beasts that wandered the streets in search for food out of the safe-haven of her friends. She silently wished them well...and hoped they would be safe...even if she didn't come back.
Turning to stare at the darkened backyard that harbored the shed they used as a shelter for the night and probably more nights to come, Rowan finally noticed two stumbling figures making their way slowly towards her from an alleyway, having caught the scent of fresh blood and flesh. Another shambled its way through a crack between the fence that surrounded the backyard to her left. It was a miracle she hadn't been pounced on while she was setting up the door so that it would be safely locked from the inside. Looking from one to the other, she decided it would be a good idea to make a break for it, having them follow her in a futile attempt to chase her because it seemed that they could do more than moan and shuffle their feet, occasionally speeding their pace when they saw something they wanted. And besides, if they were chasing her, they wouldn't pay attention to the shed that contained two live humans until she was well out of their reach and they were left unsatisfied.
So she ran through the darkness of the city near midnight, using only the street lamps and pure instinct to guide her way, and using only hope to push her body forward. She had to find out for herself...she had to see for herself that her parents were safe!
...Ba-bump...Ba-bump...
It seemed like she had been running forever, darting through those small obstacles in the middle of the road and avoiding taking the alleyways in case there was an ambush of undead beasts waiting for her to made what could be a fatal trip through them. More than once she had stopped to take in huge gasps for oxygen, and once or twice she had simply collapsed on the ground to gain her breath, weakened and immobilized for a minute or so, and very vulnerable to the creatures, the once human monsters, that now wandered the streets in search of food. Luckily for her, there had been nothing besides those humans, though at the time she was not aware of the other dangers - and the zombies were not very fast, so a minute to rest did not endanger her.
For the moment, however, it seemed that it would be her heart that would fail and endanger her as she looked on at the wreck that lay before her...at the streets now smeared with blood and haunted by death.
It looked like something seen out of those old black and white movies depicting Hiroshima shortly after it was bombed. Fumes curled into the air like death showing that it had taken presidence here, and Rowan could feel the heat that radiated from the large trailer park as nearby trailers caught flame and burned. Admist the smell of acrid smoke was that of decay, and amongst the trailers and the streets were crumpled bodies - completely gone and torn, as well as those that struggled to stand at the scent of a live one. Blood was splattered in various places, staining the walls of the mobile homes and leaving large pools in the middle of the road. In some cases - Rowan shuddered as she looked at this - there were long streaks in the middle of the road, leading to the large alleys between trailers or in the field that lay further ahead, like something had dragged the dead away to feed privately on them.
It was all she could do to keep walking as she caught the vision of many figures of people she had once known alive and well on the ground, their bodies broken and empty. There was Calvin, the great friend of her stepfather and somebody who always looked after their well-being. The person who had once been so full of vitality was now clawing at the ground, not able to gain footing and resorting to crawling, towards her, low guttural moans issuing from his throat. One look at her legs made her turn her head out of disgust. They look like they ad been chewed through extensively. It was easy to make out the femur bone in that mess.
She jumped at the sound of something pounding against a window nearby, and Rowan shot her eyes to look in the direction of the noise. In the mobile home closest to the entrance of the park itself, the woman named Hallie was pounding on the glass that separated her from the outside world, and to the walking flesh that was Rowan. Her eyes were wide and pale, her face cut in numerous places and bleeding only slightly. But her voice was that of a dying banshee - she was not alive anymore.
Shaking her head, she covered the top of her head with her hand and forced herself to look downward, and then made herself look up, away from the blood-stained streets. If she had only arrived sooner, there would have been people living and breathing, aiding her and being there for her. If she had only arrived sooner...
A bark from nearby startled her into spinning around. She saw sharp gnashing teeth and jumped back - and that was what saved her skin from her first encounter with an undead mutt as it leapt past her and landed on all fours behind her. Rowan could feel its wet, bloody fur rake against her neck...too close.
Spinning around again, she held up her only weapon, a crowbar, in defense. Like it would do any good against something with much more stamina and speed than a human being, and with sharp razor teeth and blunt but powerful claws. The Rotty that faced her snarled and growled, at the same time allowing blood won from other fights it had with various living humans ooze from its clamped and crimson-smeared jaws. It's rotting body shook as it growled, and then it was in the air again. Rowan jumped to the side, narrowly missing it once more. At the same time, she brought the crowbar up and swung, missing the body but striking the hind leg.
It landed and turned toward her, its back leg hanging limply. Did she break the bone?
Here, Fido! Here boy! Go fetch a bone! her mind laughed nervously.
It leapt again, and this time she was not prepared - it was lunging head on at her, aiming for her face. She brought the bar up again, clasping it with both hands to bar the beast's gnashing teeth from her skin. It's line of fire intercepted by the bar, the dog grabbed onto the bar instead, by accident. It was then trying to tear it from her, like it knew that was the only weapon she had.
It let go at the last minute and aimed for the hand trying to pull it back. She was quicker - she lifted the hand it was after in defense, and with the other, brought the bar slamming into the beast-
-and into its skull. It fell down, dead.
How can something be dead when it's already dead? Rowan shook her head at that paradox. An image of Frankenstein, the infamous mad doctor from Day of the Dead, popped into her mind. She grinned. I'll just say...It has ceased to exist.
She yanked the crowbar from its skull, sticking her tongue out in disgust at the blood coating the sharp end of the crowbar. Wiping it on the patch of grass nearby, she looked the canine over, blinking. So...dogs turn to? Into zombies? She stared at the crowbar. I need a better weapon...
Laughing inwardly in a frightened manner, she continued on. In less than a minute, she saw her own trailer.
She gasped aloud in shock.
The door was broken open, blood smearing the outside of it and pooling on the steel steps leading to it. Crimson flecks were smeared on the window of the kitchen.
There was no sound from inside. Rowan was suddenly reluctant to go in, but she forced herself too. She climbed the steps with a numb feeling over her body, holding the bloodied crowbar over her head.
On entry, she saw two figures lying on the floor. One of them was a child that lived across the street from them, her mouth gaping wide. there was a large bite wound on her neck, and her eyes were wide and glazed. Her face was deathly pale, but had flecks of dried and old blood marking it. There was also a nice deep gash in its forehead, more than enough to take a zombie out. Beside her was Celia, Rowan's mother...long dead, with bites all across the empty shell that was her body.
Rowan looked on for about a minute, staring dumbfoundedly. Then she fell to her knees. "Mother," she began, her voice wavering. "Mom...mommy. Why..." Two tears fell from her eyes, and her fists began to clench and unclench. "I... I told you...you had to be safe too!"
Her shout seemed to shake the trailer. Outside, zombies stirred at the noise and began to wander, relentlessly searching for the source of the voice. Further from the zonbies, in the field behind the trailers living on this street inside the park, two pearly white eyes opened with a start. A feral snarl rang from its mouth, and it stood, and walked.
Rowan was unaware of this, not capable of hearing the zombies starting to moan outside over the sobs that wracked her body. Her mother, the person who had taken care of her for her entire life, was dead...dead.
And there's no way to bring her back I should've been here to protect you, mother...I should have stayed instead of going to that goddamn mall, stayed to protect you...
She looked up. And my sepfather...I...
"...Ro-wan?" a shaky voice asked from nearby. Rowan shot up with a start, looking from one side of the trailer to the other. She wiped some tears from her eyes, enough so that she could see through them clearly. She recognized that voice...
"Daddoo?" she called out, using her old nickname for the stepfather she knew for five years of her life. The voice - where had it come from?
"...Row..."
The voice sounded strong to her left, to the master bedroom. A second after the call, she heard the click of a door unlocking or locking, and she took to the bedroom door, shoving it open to see her stepfather lying before her, covering his wounds with both hands. his eyes were half closed, and his cuts were extensive. The thick brown hair that was cropped atop of his head was matted with blood, and small streams of the substance were caked to his scalp and down his cheek. Light blue eyes stared on, but they were faded, afraid, and gave him an overall tired appearance. Through the small rays of moonlight that managed to penetrate the smoldering smoke outside as well as the window to the bedroom, she could see the scratches across his chest and arms - long, jagged marks, thick and made by sharp things. What could have those kinds of claws?
"Daddo...crap...shit...you're hurt..." Rowan leaned beside him, forcing him to pull of an arm that coated his chest. Removing it, she found more of those long scratches, bleeding slowly. the pool that formed around his body and stained the rug showed that he lost blood, too much. He won't make it, Rowan thought reluctantly.
Her stepfather, Roid, chuckled softly at her statement. "Apparently..." He looked down. "I tried to help her, Rowan... I-I tri-ied." His words broke off as he began to cough. He removed his hand from his mouth, but she could see the blood that came from his throat. "Kara attacked...I fended her off as...best I c-coooooould." Another long hack. "She ...g-g-"
"Shh," Rowan silenced him with a finger to her mouth. "I know...I understand." I think. How could I understand the mess that's fallen on this city? How can I understand the death of Victoria, of my mother, or that my stepfather's dying before me?
"Damn cat came in, too...our pet, you know...H-he ch...chaaa..." He began to hack again. more blood clots fell onto his hand.
"Sphynx? He turned into something...?" Rowan finished for him.
Roid nodded.
"There was a dog outside that turned into something, too... It attacked me...i beat it up." She grinned at the sight of a smile on his face. "Listen...let's get you out of here. We can stop the bleeding-"
"No," Roid cut her off, his voice as firm although weak. "I sa...aw Calvin become...-" A cough. "-one of them... I'll change...too..."
"This isn't Night of the Living Dead!" she hissed. "You're bleeding, I'll fix you up-"
"No, Rowan."
"I lost Victoria, I lost Mom. I'll be damned if I lose you, too!" her voice held more rebuke than she wanted but she stared at him with such a hard glare that he looked away.
But he didn't give up. "Goddamn it Rowan, can't...you see? I'm...dying too..." Rowan made an attempt to cut him off, but he silenced her by speaking again. "I'll...slow you down...I can't breath as is...and...and..." He smiled. "The pain's...fading..."
"You can't leave, Daddoo... you can't leave me alone, please...please...," Rowan begged, tears falling from her eyes. Roid reached up to touch her cheek.
"You're strong...like your mother..." A cough. "She fought Kara...off like a ...beast." He smiled affectionately. "Just lie...she fought of that last...bastard husband...or her's."
"Daddoo...Please...""I love you...Rowan, you know that...?" He smiled. "Celia...begged me to help you... I couldn't. I failed." He coughed, his entire body shaking with this one. "Please...You have to...escape. Get out...of the city. Live you life...we beg of you..."
His eyes were closing. Rowan reached for his hand and clamped it tightly in her own. "Daddoo..."
"I love you...please..."
"I love you too, Daddoo...I do! Daddoo?" She watched in horror and fear as he stared at her, that smile still upon his face. His face was locked in that expression, eternally. "Daddoo!"
None of the moans and groans outside could break through the sound of cries that ensued.
...Ba-bump...Ba-bump...
A few moments after Roid had died, his body convulsed, and he rose again. At first Rowan thought it was a miracle until he began to swipe at her, trying to claw her, to kill her, and then lunging forward to try to bite her. Shocked and angry at the fate that befell him, she put him down as quickly as possible, not wanting to see his body endure more suffering. Walking out, her mother also rose, and Rowan repeated the process.
The trailer park seemed to be filled with the groans and grunts of the undead as they smelt and heard live flesh. They were all shambling towards Rowan's trailer home and, as she exited, towards her. She was quick to walk past them, not wanting to be bothered with them or lose her chance of escaping the city in one piece. She would keep her promise...she had to.
Shuffling towards the exit of the trailer park, she didn't notice the pair of eyes that had been following her, nor the deadly beast that stalked quietly behind her until she heard a small, menacing growl and then a hiss of anger.
Rowan turned to come face to face with Sphynx, the orange and black tabby cat that lived with the family since its birth two years prior to today. but the creature that stood before her bore little to no resemblance to the house cat that she had stroked and fed, ad let fall asleep at the foot of her bed at night. Well...the only resemblance being the size.
Massive, jagged claws shot from its leathery and raw feet, the flesh of them exposed and the tips of the claws stained with red blood. The fur of its body was no longer the bright orange color it once was, nor did it cover much of the body because of the great tears in its skin and the falling pieces of rotting flesh, but was now a dim brown color as the crimson blood and the orange fur mixed. the black stripes Sphynx had been born with made him look like some small, bloodied tiger. The tail of the cat wavered dangerously behind him, lined with what looked to be spikes. Its eyes were a milky white, and its teeth had been elongated and sharpened, the two primary canines the length of the nose to the bottom of the top jaw.
And its temper was burning. Without hesitation, it lunged at her, aiming for her throat. Rowan was lucky enough to dodge when she did, for Sphynx, being the small cat he was and the talented hunter from the start, was quick on his feet as well. She lifted the crowbar up to defend herself as it leapt again, but as she brought the bar up, Sphynx's reflexes reacted as if he somehow knew the bar would block the cat from her chest and her face. At the last minute, the feline flung out his paw, raking his claws against her tender skin. Alarmed, Rowan jumped to the side, feeling her neck quickly to be sure it didn't break through the skin. No, she was safe...
That was an understatement. Sphynx didn't leap again, but this time ran for her legs, outstretching his claws to swipe at her flesh. When Rowan retracted and made to strike the feline with the crowbar she clutched in a death-grip in her hands, Sphynx jumped into the air again, this time at her eyes.
Rowan jumped back on impulse, bringing up the crowbar in defense. She felt the bar hit home on the side of the feline, and as soon as she saw the body lying on the ground, she pivoted on her heels and ran.
Sometimes, it's better to take flight than fight...
However, Sphynx was back on his four paws by the time Rowan made her way into the street. The next thing Rowan knew, something had latched onto the back of her New Jersey Devils jacket and was hissing vehemently. She didn't see the one sweet and playful house cat raise a jagged paw, pull it back, and strike for the back of her skull.
She did, however, hear two loud 'BANG's ring throughout the air, and she felt the feline that clung to her back yowl in shock - or was it pain? And although she still felt the weight of the cat on her back, it no longer moved. Desperate to get it off of her, she shook vigorously, and when that failed she slipped of the jacket and whipped it around. The limp figure of Sphynx flew into the air and landed some ten feet away from her, one hole embedded in its side, the other in its head.
Bullet holes...?
Blinking confusion, she turned her head to see who it was who had saved her skin, just as the person took a few steps forward and rose a hand to his face, asking in a somewhat shaky voice, "Are you alright?"
The person standing in front of her looked to be in his mid-forties, and the look on his face was contorted in an odd mixture of concern and fear. His hair, dark brown, was cut into a tall buzzcut, and his eyes were wide and whirling with various emotions, giving him an overall weary appearance. He wore a simple white t-shirt with a yellow vest covering it up, and green camo pants to go along with the outfit. On his left sleeve, she could make out writing, and as he drew closer, she felt both relief and fear when she saw the word S.T.A.R.S. written across the emblem that represented the R.P.D.
S.T.A.R.S....the very team that may have witnessed the first variation of what fell on the city. They were the team that put to an end the cannibal killings that occurred in June, three months ago, even if it meant the explosion of the old Spencers Estate in the Arklay Forest, and their exemption from the R.P.D. they were all suspended after what happened in June, according to the news. The media claimed that they were drunk, and that they blew up the mansion because they were intoxicated. Now, looking back, she seriously doubted it.
"Shooken...but yeah...," she said in a voice barely above a whisper. She blinked in surprise at the weakness in her voice, and shook her head softly. Rowan looked up. "Thanks...." She took a few steps forward, tilting her head, then smiling softly.
"I'm glad there's somebody alive in this city." They both blinked as they said this at the same time, and they chuckled.
Such was the meeting with the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team pilot, Brad Vickers.
...Ba-bump...Ba-bump...
Rowan looked over for not the first time since the two had met up. they were making a trek back to the shed where Sarah and Kristin were hiding, hopefully waiting patiently for Rowan to return and not making an attempt to go out and find her. The moment Rowan informed him there were two other survivors as well as herself, Brad said he would follow her to their safe-haven and help them get out of this city turned into a war-zone. Still, there was an odd aura of this person, like a worry that wouldn't fade away, or a fear that was strong enough for others to pick up on it. She blinked and smiled wearily at him, feeling the first effects of fatigue now that she had relaxed enough to get a chance to feel it. Only two hours of sleep last night, nothing more. And it had been about two hours since she left the shed.
She sighed softly and looked up, wincing at the smell of acrid fumes from the smoke and fire that had engulfed so many houses in the few hours since the nightmare first began. The smell that was prominent over all of those things was death and decay, and that scent would never leave her mind.
"What happened to this place?" she found herself whispering. Brad looked over with a weak smile and then at the ground as they walked.
"I'm not really sure...," he said honestly. "It's a virus of sorts, I heard. My teammate-" there was an odd strain on his voice there. Guilt was clear in his tone. "-, she's still in the city."
"So you're trying to find her?" Rowan asked, hoping to make conversation to lift the dull cloud of depression and fright that smothered them.
"Yeah... She knows more about what's going on than I ever did. Her name's Jill Valentine."
Rowan rose a brow. "You're not the only S.T.A.R.S. members in the city, are you?" she asked, hope tingeing her voice.
"Unfortunately... Everybody else left for Europe."
Both of them paused when they heard a pair of nearby moans. They disregarded it, and Brad took the moment to make sure the Beretta he held was loaded before they continued on.
"It's wierd how everything worked out," he added, brushing one hand through his hair. "Just before she's about to head off to join them, this happens... It's like somebody was planning on trapping her here."
"Once we get to Kristin and Sarah, we'll do everything we can to help you look for her, promise." Rowan offered a light smile.
"It's too dangerous for you to travel the city," he began. Then another thought popped into his mind, and he lowered his head in defeat. "Then, it's too dangerous for you to stay in one spot either."
"We managed to make it out of the movies of Raccoon Mall last night," she replied with a light-hearted chuckle. "Weird thing is...there sounded to be some explosions. I just remembered that now..."
"I heard that a group was able to bomb away Main Street." At the confused look on Rowan's face, he grinned. "There were many more zombies flooding the streets last night then there are today. A lot of them piled onto Main Street for some reason... That's all I heard."
"Goodie, then we're not alone in this wierd city." Relief and hope crowded her mind once again. Something else fell into the back of her mind, about something Brad mentioned a moment or so ago. "You said your teammates went to Europe. You're going with them, right?"
Brad paused for a moment, and Rowan wondered if she touched a tender subject when he began to walk again and responded. "Don't think they'd want me with them. Long story-"
"S.T.A.R.S...."
"The hell?" Brad whispered. He froze in place, as did Rowan, and both stood in complete silence for a moment. The voice sounded nearby, but low and husky, like it came from something big. For a moment, there was not one noise.
Then the heavy footsteps came.
They both swung around in time to see something large coming directly towards them. Neither of them had time to react when it suddenly dashed and caught Brad by the neck, lifting him up and staring at him with a look of distorted satisfaction before throwing him aside. The trench-coated thing, whatever it was, turned and stalked towards the fallen one as Brad landed with a yelp of confusion. Rowan had to force herself from backing away, not only because of the sudden frightening appearance of this person, but the incredible height of him...well over six feet. But the stench of decay lingered with it, hanging in the air dominantly.
As it bent to lift Brad up again, Rowan found herself rushing forward, clutching the crowbar tightly in her hand. She drove it deep into the side of the beast, whatever it was, and heard it grunt in surprise and turn to face her as she yanked the bar out of the skin. There was no look of pain on its face...what was left of its face.
The street lamps showed her that the creature's lips seemed to have been ripped off, leaving instead a vile, unfaltering grin. The right eye was sewn over with skin and three or four metal clamps, but its left eyes, pale and white, narrowed in anger. The head of this creature was bald, and the skin around its face was brown and rotting. A large purple object that Rowan at first thought was a snake reached out of its shoulders and around the back of its neck. the left shoulder was exposed, and its huge hands were gloved, and its feet booted.
She had no time to jump back as one well aimed punch from the creature knocked her to the pavement. She struggled to her feet, expecting the beast to pick her up or kill her. She was shocked, however, to find it turning back towards Brad. It lifted him up from the ground, and Brad was shoving himself away from the arm of the beast, trying valiantly to break free.
"S.T.A.R.S.," it hissed once again, and then threw the pilot once again, this time sending him into the side of the nearest building. The creature, something of a S.T.A.R.S. hunter, Rowan told herself, walked towards him again, and in its left palm she could see something trying to emerge from the skin. Fearing for Brad's life, she lunged again. Once again, it turned, it struck, and it followed after its initial target.
Her eyes didn't fail her this time. Out of its left palm, a thick, purple tendril emerged. Frantic, she turned to look at Brad, who stared at the S.T.A.R.S. hunter with great shock as he realized it would not leave them alone until it killed the one it wanted to hunt.
"Brad, the left hand! Look out for the left hand!"
As he struggled to his feet, he did look out - and he dodged just as the tendril shot forward from the hunter creature's hand. It implanted itself into the wall where Brad's head had been only a second before.
"Shit...Rowan, get out of here!"
"Are you kidding me?" Rowan shouted. She struck at the beast with her crowbar, and once again it struck at her, but this time Rowan was able to dodge its powerful fist.
Seeing the one vulnerability the beast seemed to have as it began to turn to face him again, Brad fired off his Beretta. Seven bullets struck the chest. Four hit the skull - but they didn't penetrate the muscle surrounding its bony scalp. the S.T.A.R.S. hunter turned its back toward Rowan, lifting its hand up to pummel the ex-S.T.A.R.S. pilot to the ground, and Rowan lunged once more, this time burying the crowbar into its back, missing the spine but making contact nonetheless. As she yanked it out, the thing brought its fist down and swung to strike her, but one well-aimed bullet from Brad penetrated the tendril around its neck.
A thick, violet ooze began to slide from the wound, dripping from the shoulder tentacle of the creature who stared on, puzzled. The hunter creature then looked down at its shoulder, as if realizing what had happened and knowing that it couldn't do a thing about it. A second later, it clutched at its shoulder and fell to the ground with a groan.
Brad stared down at the creature for such a long time that Rowan wondered if he was facing some mortal dilemma. When he looked up, his eyes were wide, and one look at them told Rowan what he was worried about. the creature was after S.T.A.R.S. members... He was in danger, and so was Jill. The creature at their feet grunted and moaned again, then began to twitch. Fearing it would wake from its state, they took to a run.
"Guess I can't go with you," Brad said as they stopped a minute later. both were panting for breath.
"You can't go alone!" Rowan protested, looking up in shock. "That'd be suicide!"
"I don't want to put you in danger either, or your friends..."
"We can help you..."
"Sorry, I can't." He said that in such a way that Rowan knew it would be useless to try and make him think otherwise. "Idea...Get your friends, and meet up at the R.P.D. Hopefully I'll find Jill before..." He trailed off.
Rowan sagged her shoulders, but she nodded. She was reluctant to lose a friend...to lose somebody else. "Fine...I will."
"I might arrive there tonight..." He looked up suddenly, and grinned weakly in slight humor. "But do yourself a favor. Go to Kendo's...Get yourself something other than a crowbar."
Rowan smirked softly. "I won't get to whack the beasties in the head?" she mock-whined, earning a small chuckle from Brad. But she nodded. "Gotcha... But remember what you said."
"I'll be there. Be careful, though."
"You too," Rowan responded sternly, although with a smile. "Come back safe and sound, y'know."
Brad nodded. They stood in silence for a moment, and with a nod, they both turned to head off in the opposite direction of the other - Brad to find a comrade who was just as in much danger as he was, and Rowan to find her friends and lead them safely to the R.P.D.
As she continued to walk and caught sight of the house whose backyard held their safe-haven, she heard a roar in the distance, one that was all too familiar. Silently, she wished him luck as she headed to the sanctuary.
...Ba-bump...Ba-bump...eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
W00t! Chapter 3 is finally done and over with! Meh, I fgured that I would change the way everything went one in the original story, so expect some dilemmas, dramas, and much, much more over time. Thanks for all of the reviews, and nah, i don't intend on giving her a boyfriend here, sowwy. -
Next chapter up sometime next month. -