Girl on Fire

Angela's feet made hollow thumps against the linoleum floor and echoed through the empty building. She would have been much happier staying to the streets but a large group of undead had made that impossible, better to go around than fight through the decaying mass of once humans. So she'd ducked into the nearest open door, finding herself in an empty mall.

Maybe I can pick up some better cloths while I'm in here. She thought, catching a glance of herself in a store mirror.

Her clothes were torn where the creatures roaming Racoon City had gotten too close. The Left strap of her tank top had been torn when a zombie had taken a chunk out of her and the shorts did little to protect her from the cold.

"But," she said aloud, feeling she had to do something to alleviate the silence, "I'm going to have to get a similar outfit if I want to be able to move right."

On the other hand, clean clothes would be a welcome trade from her gore caked outfit. With a sigh she headed up the unmoving elevator toward a second story-clothing store.

A small pile of unwanted clothes had developed in the fifteen minutes since she'd entered the store, her messenger bag and Specs sat leaning against the full-length mirror that was set up outside a dressing room. Holding up a silky light blue shirt with elbow length sleeves that flared out and hung toward her knees Angela regarded herself in the mirror.

"It's cute," she said, turning this way and that, "but it's not very smart for a fight."

She tossed it into the growing pile.

"I guess I'm just no good at shopping. What do you think?" she said, holding up another shirt and talking to the nearby corpse of a woman.

For a moment she just looks at the dead lump, blonde hair splayed around a white face, blue eye's staring. Angela was sure in life she had been relatively beautiful.

"You're right," she finally said, tossing the shirt to the others, "just not my style."

She knew it was stupid, talking to something that had left this world long ago, but pretending to have a normal conversation; it kept her from going completely loopy.

What I wouldn't give for someone to talk to. She thinks as she scoops up her bag and the specs umbrella had given her and heads to the next store; did no one make clothes you could fight in?

At this point she'd be glad just to get something that didn't hang low or was cut high.

Your wasting time, the voice was back, but it no longer surprised her.

Now that Angela knew it was the part of her not controlled by Umbrella and was simply keeping her on track.

Sunrise isn't waiting and neither are the zombies.

She rolled her eyes. It'll be easier to fight with new stuff, and anyway, it's not that close to sunrise.

Great, now she was arguing with herself.

Angela was so caught up in her own thoughts she didn't notice she'd already passed the store she'd been headed for, or the half open bathroom door she was walking toward until it swung open and nearly hit her in the face. Automatically Angela fell into a crouch and had her gun out of its holster and aimed at the open door, only to find herself staring into the muzzle of an automatic.

Zombies don't use handguns. The little voice told her. No shit. She retorted silently, her aim never wavering and her gaze locked on the barrel.

"Who are you? Are you one of those things?" the voice was female.

Angela leaned to the side and looked up at a young woman, her dirty blonde hair fell into her face and she glared down at Angela with intense dark green eyes. Angela slowly turned her gun away and raised both arms above her head.

"I'm not one of those zombies, promise." Slowly, the girl lowered her weapon.

"Sorry," the girl said, not looking totally trusting but a bit more relaxed, she offered a hand and helped Angela to her feet.

"My names Billy, Billy Rose, I didn't think anyone was left."

Angela nodded, "I'm Angela and neither did I. how'd you survive this long?"

Billy shrugged, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "My mom and brother were at home and they got, um, eliminated, so I tried to get out on my own. When they closed the gates I grabbed a gun from one of the dead guards and locked myself in the bathroom."

She glanced around nervously, pulling at a silver charm bracelet on her left wrist; they started to walk with no definite destination. "There were some really freaky things climbing around here before, but they moved on, took out the last couple hiding in the stores. They had claws as long as my arm and these huge tongues and no eyes."

"Lickers," Angela said calmly, double-checking her clip. "Bio-engineered eating machines, your luckier than most, I'm surprised they didn't go after you."

Billy gave her a sideways look, "Serious?"

"Serious."

"Well…" she paused, unsure what to say, "You're welcome to stay here with me. The food courts well stocked and the zombies can't seem to figure out the concept of 'pull'. I figured I would just hole myself up till help arrives."

Angela shook her head. "No go, if you wanna survive to see dawn we need to get out of here, by tomorrow morning there will be no Racoon."

"Impossible, the whole city is closed off, there is no way out. And any way, they have to send help in sometime…"

She gave Angela a worried look, "Right?"

Angela stopped, her eye's cast downward. She turned and walked over to the guardrail, staring down at the ground level.

"Wrong," she said it gentle, not totally sure how to explain it, or even if she wanted to,

"What do you mean, wrong?" she asked, coming to lean on the rail besides her.

"I'm saying, that at dawn, a nuclear missile will be armed and fired at this city destroying everything and everyone and all traces of the virus."

An eternity of silence followed. "H-how do you know so much? How can you be so sure?"

Angela took a deep breath, "You really wanna know? Are you really ready to hear this?"

She turned calm eyes onto the other girl. Billy stared her down, "Yes, this is my home; I deserve to know why it's going to hell in a hand basket, with my family."

Angela smiled at her, this girl had attitude.

"Well, I guess I'll start with what's happening and move into how I know." A loud crash came from below, followed by the hungry moans of the undead.

"But first we need to get out of here, follow me!" Billy grabbed Angela by the arm dragging her towards a shop. "I saw a window looking out onto one of the other buildings; we can probably make it to the fire escape." Billy shouted, as the moaning grew louder.

"I knew I'd like you." Angela laughs while firing three shots into the previously mentioned window. Snagging a handful of clothes from passing wracks she flung a thick coat in front of them as they crashed through the plate glass and onto the fire escape.