Adam Luck - Ey! Thanks, man! Glad to see you around once again as well!
Yes, I have read your final review from the previous fic and I have considered many of your suggestions. I've actually combined certain remake segments to the original layout of the police station so look forward to that! However, I have some other plans for Kravchenko, which will have him more involved in a future sequel. If I do end up adding him to this one, it may crumble most, if not, all of the events I have in mind for certain other things I have planned out for him. Trust me, his involvement is guaranteed, but I can't make any promises for this story. The whole thing of Kravchenko taunting David is a nice idea, but again, I don't wanna risk having a long writer's block either.
And yes, David already knows Mike Harper by this point (I'm sure it was the complete opposite in the original timeline as they met later in life). Since this is an alternate timeline in which RE's universe is combined with the Black Ops' universe, I decided he'd take on the role as a close friend, similar to how the RE1.5 cut character, Elza Walker, is to Claire in many people's headcanons.
Everything else that you mentioned is for you to speculate until the time comes. ;)

Recommended BGM:

1. Resident Evil 6 - Silent Party

2. Resident Evil: Revelations 2 - Fishing Village

3. Call of Duty: Black Ops III - Damned III

Chapter 2

The jeep was running low on gas, and Leon had been hitting himself mentally for forgetting the fact that he had just passed a gas station at the last rest stop before he hit Burger Town and never bothered filling it up since then. He only had twenty more minutes to spare when he saw a Mizoil Gas Station ahead of him and decided to pull over for a quick minute to put in enough gas to last him for the rest of the night at the very least.

As he finished pulling over in front of one of the gasoline pumps, he looked for his wallet through the dim lights of the station above and figured he had only brought himself enough money to even feed himself for a few take-outs at most.

Damn! Guess I'll have to really work my ass off if I wanna get my future paychecks slowly fattening up.

He hadn't even calculated the amount of money he needed to save up for the expenses he was about to face when arriving in Raccoon, but with the little money he had, it'll have to last him until his first paycheck comes in.

Good on you, rookie. Now all you need is for someone to—

There was a subtle crashing noise nearby, low, but close from somewhere.

He checked his surroundings, and the whole environment looked deserted, unusually silent as well. Nightfall had already enveloped the whole place and no one seemed to be around anywhere. However, there was an empty car of a Sheriff's, the passenger's door wide open. It was almost as though whoever was driving the car had tried grabbing something and left in a great hurry.

That's weird…

The store inside seemed to have no lights showing through the closed blinds, even though the sign on the door ahead said they were still open.

And yet not one customer or employee anywhere in sight…

True, it could mean that they weren't at their rush hour peak or rarely anyone ever comes by the gas station as he has around this time. But it was only barely a quarter before nine and usually, a city like Raccoon would have ongoing traffic on the highway he'd taken. At least that was how he remembered it as a kid.

Still doesn't explain why it would be lights out if the store was still open…

Thump.

Someone or something had managed to trip elsewhere across the gas station just near the large welcoming sign. As he walked closer into the heavy shadows ahead, underneath the large sign was an abandoned motorcycle, a Yamaha if he wasn't mistaken. Why anyone would leave such a nice motorcycle in the middle of nowhere was beyond him. A helmet and a pair of thick biker gloves were placed on top of its seat. The helmet appeared to be scratched, but still quite usable.

Oh, God…

As he turned his head to look back around, he immediately saw a human body in the middle of the road, lying maybe ten-fifteen feet away from the abandoned bike. Face down, it looked as though it were a woman, and judging from the red stains all over her once-white dress, it didn't necessarily look like some happy drunken college student who decided to take a nap in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Hit-and-run? Or was she the one riding the bike and somehow crashed against the sign? Man, what a mess…

It didn't explain the helmet and gloves that were placed neatly on the seat. If it were a crash, she would've most likely still had the helmet on or the helmet would have flown off elsewhere.

The stench of death filled the air and it smelled like some random skunk had peed and thrown up on itself before dying. His mind was busy with racing thoughts about what could've happened to the young woman that was lying on the ground, motionless.

Alright, so it wasn't a crash or a hit-and-run. What if there's some crazy gunman that shot the poor wandering woman as they passed by, stopped, and now they're assaulting the gas station right now, which would explain the lights going out and why the Sheriff's car is empty, probably dealing with the gunman themselves.

They may need some help for all I know…

He quickly ran back to his jeep and fumbled over the passenger seat for his graduation gift given by his father who was a former cop, a Desert Eagle .50AE Magnum with a customized ten-inch barrel. It wasn't exactly RPD standard issue, in fact, it was much more powerful. Leon grabbed a magazine from the glove compartment and slapped it right in, feeling the shiny, solid weight of the gun in his shaky hands as he retrieved two more magazines and put them inside one of his belt pouches, each only holding up to six rounds. He knew it was the best present he'd ever received in his whole life.

Holding the magnum in one hand as it pointed at the ground, he stepped out of the jeep and took a deep breath, not entirely sure what he was going to be dealing with out here. It was odd to him that several of the streetlights that were ahead of the road were all entirely turned off, almost like there was some sort of power outage ahead of the road into the city. Still, he edged forward towards the woman's body again, feeling extremely unnerved as he felt like he was horribly exposed, the shooter probably being aware that he may be walking directly into a trap. Even as he checked his surroundings before entering the building for any sudden surprise, there was nothing and no one anywhere, except the body ahead of him and himself.

No one's around… so far at least.

A few more steps closer and the woman was much clearer to see at a specific angle. The long dirty blonde hair obscured her face entirely, but the white clothing was a long nightdress, covering most of her body, all seemingly covered in spots of dried blood. The exposed arms looked as though they'd been bruised up, and on her left arm, a large bite exposed much of her glistening flesh and torn crimson muscle beneath.

Swallowing heavily, Leon remembered reading about wild animals across the outskirts of the city, mauling people aggressively and in some instances, leaving them bleeding to death. The woman he was seeing was no hit-and-run victim or one-too-many-beers kind of girl, but rather a victim of a vicious wild animal attack, slowly confirming the fact that what he saw earlier on the road was no ordinary dog that was chasing down a deer across the highway.

Switching the grip of his weapon to his left hand, he crouched next to her, afraid of what was about to come next. Slowly putting his fingertips around, he felt the body cold and stiff as he began to slide two of his fingers across the throat and the side of her neck, hoping for any type of pulse. A few seconds passed and it made him feel horribly sick and unprepared, trying to remember the procedure for how CPR works, praying at the same time to even feel a tiny pulse at any second.

Just like they said in training, five compressions, two short breaths. Nothing much to it, right? Please don't be dead…

He wasn't able to find it and decided not to wait any longer. Putting his Magnum into his belt, he proceeded to turn her over slowly and check to see if she was even breathing. However, as soon as he started to lift her up, the sound of exposed flesh was heard and much to his shock, her spine was partially exposed as he moved the thick, wet hair out of the way. Much of her pale skin that showed was covered in large quantities of crimson liquid blood that poured from another set of flesh wounds on her back and chest, her skin within those wounds disappearing into the masses of shredded tissue. It looked as though she was shoved onto the road and a wild animal took advantage and chewed on her while being unable to move anywhere.

So who could've done this? Was it foul play? Was it an animal attack? And if it has been foul play, could it be the same perpetrator that could be inside the store? And that smell… she couldn't be smelling this bad if she died recently—

The cannibal killers…

No. No, not this far off the city and close to a public gas station in the middle of a highway. But could it be—

What was that?

Behind Leon, there was a low, soft groan within the darkness of the field near the road. A shuffling footstep, and another. A pair of wet sounds.

It wasn't much of a second before Leon stood up and took out his Magnum instinctively. Two of the most weird-looking people staggered toward him, both of them looking as though they were extremely drunk out of their minds, revealing themselves from the shadows and slowly coming under the direct light of the streetlight above them. One of them was a woman in blue shorts with a red blouse that revealed some cleavage, mold appearing just above her chest. The other was a man in work attire, his black pants ripped from the knee down and his white dress shirt covered in dark liquid spots of blood and bile, all of their faces wrapped in rot and red open sores.

As if it wasn't disturbing enough, another came into view from the shadows in front. It was a beefy guy that looked as though he had feasted on something bloody, his mouth holding a piece of flesh, blood covering half of his face just as the rest of his hands and clothing.

The trio kept stumbling toward him, past the edges of the pavement itself, pale hands raised as they moaned inhumanely, the sounds of hungry wailing beasts that sounded almost neither human nor animal alike.

Some dark and yellowish bile came gurgling out of the beefy man's mouth as whatever piece of flesh it had on its mouth had dropped to the ground elsewhere. Leon was quickly overwhelmed by the fact that whatever smelled like skunk roadkill was coming from the rotting flesh that came from the trio of sickened people in front of him, desperately reaching out to get to him as quickly as they could…

…and there was yet another one, stepping out of a broken part of the wired fence just ahead near one of the closest streetlights. It was a young woman in a stained pink T-shirt, hair tied to the back with a mindless, dazed face.

Another groan erupted from within the shadows. Leon looked over his shoulder to the right and saw another young man with dark, brown hair, its rotting skeletal arms eager to take a grasp onto him as it moaned and shambled slowly onto the pavement from within the darkness that led towards the main road to Raccoon.

Leon smoothly raised his magnum to the closest one, the man in the white dress shirt, his instincts screaming at him to run to safety. He was feeling terrified, but as a cop, he knew he had to remain calm and use his rationale to deal with the situation at hand, a situation that had a hidden explanation of what he was seeing, not exactly looking at a group of walking dead corpses.

Self-control, process, and deal with it. You're a cop for a reason…

"Alright! That's far enough! Don't move!"

He made sure to have his voice strong, firm, and authoritative. He was wearing his uniform, which meant that they needed to listen to him.

But my God, why won't they stop?

The man in the stained dress shirt continued to moan, shamble, and act indifferently in response to the gun that was being aimed directly at his chest. The others followed mindlessly, all of them now at least less than ten feet away from him.

"Don't move!" He commanded again, and the sound of his own panicked voice made him back up a small step, switching his gaze left and right, frightened at the sight of them shambling ever so closer to him, wailing and groaning with deathly hands raised to reach out to him.

Immediately something beneath him grabbed his ankle.

"No!" He shouted, both terrified and in disgust as he whipped the magnum around…

…and saw that the same wild animal attack victim had come back alive and started scrambling and pulling at his boot with one bloodied hand, working hard to drag her crippled body closer to him. Her frantic gasping cry of hunger roared to life as it joined the others, trying her best to take a good bite into his boot, pus and blood coming out of her saliva as it slavered off her pale, deathly skin, dripping over the leather itself.

Leon fired into her back and the shot tore a violent hole directly into her already crippled body, making her loosen her grip as the massive weapon up close probably obliterated her already post-mortem dead beating heart.

She dropped back into the pavement, spasming, and as he turned, he saw the others were already less than five feet away and began to fire twice at the one closest to him, the rounds splattering chunks of flesh and blood, making new entry wounds in his chest that poured down dark scarlet liquids of blood.

The man in the dress shirt was hardly fazed by the shots and merely kept shambling towards him, letting out a renewed determination of a hissing mewl of hunger that only drove him to stagger slightly faster as if he were a free bag of walking freshly fried potatoes.

Must be on something because firepower like that could easily knock down an elephant in one clean hit…

Taking huge steps back towards the gas station, Leon fired again and again. One shot after another. And then his magazine fell empty, another slammed in and kept firing. And they were still coming at him relentlessly, oblivious to any of the shots that had destroyed large chunks of their flesh, but still, he kept on going. It had to be a horror movie, a bad dream, couldn't be real at all, but if Leon didn't start believing what he was seeing in front of him, he could end up being another victim of the chaos that may even have ensued within the city itself if these creatures were already invading the outskirts of the city. If he wasn't careful, he was going to be eaten alive by these so-called…

Say it, Leon! You know exactly what they are!

Zombies.

As he stumbled away towards the facade of the gas station's building, he kept firing.

"Hello?"

"Harper," David smiled as he looked down at the payphone's keypad. "Hey, bud."

"Hey, hotshot! Where the hell did you go? I take a nap and the next thing I know, your ass has completely gone out; had me worried there for a moment."

"Sorry, it's just…" David couldn't find the right words to express himself to his best friend without embarrassing himself at the same time, looking directly into the darkness across the road from the phone booth itself. "It's… it's Uncle Woods and dad, man. I couldn't just sit back and pretend that everything's fine while not knowing whatever happened to them. After I'm done looking for them in Raccoon, I'm giving up college and probably heading back to Alaska. College hasn't been my thing anyway and I actually miss the cold weather there, believe it or not."

There was some silence in between for a few moments. And then, Mike spoke almost empathetically.

"I get it," he said. "I get it, man. Just… don't get caught up in any more trouble, alright? Not that it matters since trouble always comes looking for you every damn time anyway."

David gave out a short laugh. "Likewise, Harper. Also, don't mess with my things until I come back. I swear if you even touch any of my old comics—"

"No promises there, kiddo," Mike interrupted, David only being able to imagine the sardonic smile on his face right now, giving a low, subtle groan in response. "I'm just kidding with ya. Call me back when you find them, capeesh? Dinner's on me when you get back."

David nodded, now looking back at the darkness past the payphone in front of him. "Sure thing, brother. Gotta go now so I'll see you in a few days. Alright?"

"Alright, hotshot. Take care. Later."

"Later. Bye."

David hung up the phone and walked out of the phone booth, feeling slightly more relieved after hearing Mike being understanding about how worried sick he's been feeling for his dad and uncle. He was at least glad that he didn't mention the recent bike accident he had just several minutes ago.

What was I gonna tell him? "Oh hey, by the way, I just got myself in an accident and almost ran over a girl in the middle of the road, looking and acting strange. But don't worry, she disappeared like a ghost, and almost maimed myself when jumping off the motorcycle as I rolled several meters at high speed."

Yup, way to go, Dave…

As he finished partially unzipping his dark green camo, lightweight jacket that Woods had gifted him on his nineteenth birthday, feeling somewhat hot despite the fact that it had begun to feel slightly cooler during the fresh night, there was a sudden slamming sound of a door inside the unlit store.

What the…?

He turned his head around and looked at the sign in front of the door that said they were open, but no one had gone in or out of the building as far as he was aware. As he turned sideways to check if there was anyone out there besides himself, he saw an empty sheriff's car, its passenger door wide open. What the sheriff was doing here was anyone's guess, but it couldn't be anything good if he heard noises coming from inside the store, the whole area unlit, meaning there could be a potential robbery going on…

…or maybe some sort of hostage situation?

He wasn't able to hear anyone's voice, but whatever the case was, he decided to check it out for himself, feeling brave enough to do so since after all, if any bad guy were to try and get the upper hand on him, he could easily handle it himself if extreme measures were to be taken.

And if someone needs my help, then I sure as hell will be glad to do so.

He only had a combat knife to protect himself. However, that was more than enough to help David deal with whoever would be waiting for him on the other side. Slowly opening the door as it creaked open, the bell behind it already letting anyone know of his presence, he took a sneak around, poking his head in to see if there was anybody inside.

"Hello?" He said almost in a loud voice. "Anybody home?"

The store was almost completely dark. His voice fell flat through the surrounding silent darkness. David felt stupid for a moment, thinking to himself how could he just introduce himself like that while still being aware of the possible consequences in a place that could be set up as a trap to lure in wandering victims.

No sound at all except for some muffled movement from further inside the store. Gripping the handle of his sheathed knife behind his lower back, hiding inside his jacket, he slowly walked inside, his footsteps echoing as his spine chilled at the thought that there was no motion or sound in the immediate vicinity except for his own.

There was a flashlight laying on the ground next to what seemed like…

…blood?

And there was a long trail that followed into the darkness through the last aisle ahead near a visible line of refrigerators with what little light was coming through from outside.

He crouched down to pick up the flashlight, silently hoping that it still had some juice left in it. He clicked the power button and much to his relief, everything ahead shined in a white circular beam of light. Besides the trail of blood, there were products of both food and hygiene-related things, all carelessly thrown to the ground. Bloodied footprints also followed through the visible scarlet trail, making him feel nervous, but determined to help whoever may be injured.

Then he heard someone struggling to say something not far from his location.

Shining his way through and carefully passing by the counter that had piles of snacks, candy, and boxes of cigarettes, he took the left aisle near the refrigeration section, and upon shining the flashlight ahead, he saw someone slumped against the wall near an opened door that led inside a section only employees were allowed to be in.

It was one of the gas station's employees, his hand holding onto his bleeding neck on his left side, struggling and groaning as he looked back at David with eyes of great agony. David hurried and crouched next to him, his heart beginning to pound louder as the seconds flew by.

"Oh man… are you okay?!"

It was obvious enough that the man in front of him was doing anything but okay. However, he really needed to know what the hell was going on and if anything that was happening inside the store could also be happening inside the city itself.

No… no that's ridiculous! A city-wide robbery attack? And then you wonder why Uncle Woods keeps telling you to keep your shit together…

The injured man slowly raised his right arm and pointed at the door that was wide open, seemingly as though the guy was telling him where the source of the problem really was at.

"Stay here…I'll be back for you," said David, trying to be more reassuring even to himself as he stood up.

He carefully walked past the man, straight to the back, and found himself inside a corridor that was a rather large refrigeration room where employees restock anything that required refrigeration. There were large boxes of stored liquor and beer bottles, alongside other frozen products that had been making him hungry as he hadn't eaten since the flight he took from San Jose to St. Louis, having only been served stale crackers and bland sandwiches that tasted like old plastic covered in rat's piss.

The same blood trail led directly into another room up ahead and there were growing sounds of a struggle that was going on, which indicated it could be the sheriff and whoever attacked the employee that was just outside of—

There was a sound of a door slamming shut.

David turned around and found that the door that had been open earlier, had now been shut by none other than what seemed to be the injured man from before.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing!?" Confusion settled in on his busy mind. He didn't know why he'd keep him inside, locked up with the people that were in the middle of a struggle. The man might've just shut his only way out to safety. He proceeded to knock as hard as he could, seeing that the door wouldn't budge at all. "Open up!"

"Hold still, goddammit! You're under arrest for aggravated assault!" A faint voice was heard just across. The sounds of slamming and banging were getting louder and what he could only assume to be the sheriff commanding the other to stop resisting, he proceeded to go inside the other room, not really having any other choice now that the crazed injured employee had just shut them inside for no good reason.

As he got closer to the back office of the gas station, the sounds of the ongoing struggle became louder and clearer as he slowly pushed the steel door open. Through the dim emergency lighting of the room, he saw two figures trying to get the upper hand over the other. Quickly beaming the flashlight ahead, he saw it was a sheriff and another guy who looked awfully crazed and bloodied on the back of his clothing. Something felt extremely wrong about the man in ragged clothing…

…and that smell! Where the hell is that coming from?

"Uhh… officer, any help? David didn't know what to say exactly, but it looked as though the sheriff was really struggling to keep the other guy against the wall. Maybe some additional manpower could help him out.

The sheriff looked away for a moment, still struggling with the man in front as he looked at David, his expression looking as though there was worry and nervousness behind his authoritative voice that began to try to come out as fearless, but couldn't.

"Stay back, sir. I got this!" He said as he took a hand away to wave it back at David.

However, that short moment was all it took for the other man to immediately begin spinning back around from against the wall and grab at the sheriff's shoulders, tackling him to the ground from behind.

"Get off of him!" David commanded, his shaky voice not letting him sound as authoritative as he'd like. He immediately pulled out his knife, putting himself in a military combat position as he slowly stepped closer. "I said - GET THE HELL OFF OF HIM!"

The crazed man was now on top of the fallen sheriff, not listening to a single word he had said, and almost without warning, the pale man began to sink his teeth directly into the poor sheriff's neck, blood squirting away as a faint gurgle was heard from the sheriff, calling for help as he was now going into shock. Flesh ripped like the sound of an animal chewing violently on its unfortunate, fallen prey, the gnashing sound of soft tissue almost making David flinch away helplessly as he looked down in complete distraught at what he was just witnessing.

No…No— No what the hell!? He's literally EATING him! This… this can't be!

His own eyes were the witnesses to the violent disaster that was happening right in front of him, but his brain could still not process that it was realistically possible something like this could ever happen in real life.

He continued to watch with widened eyes, frozen in a state of pure shock as the pale man pulled his head away from the now motionless sheriff, finally snapping away the long, red bulbous mass of flesh and tissue. The man's eyes seemed cataracted and bleached in a deathly white color, the eyes of a… dead person staring back at David, having now noticed him as though he were now his next meal of the night. The sickening scent of rot and decay had to be coming from the guy that was now slowly standing up, his brittle, atrophic arms now seemed to try their best to reach out to him, letting out a low, inhuman moan, the sound piercing David's skin with overwhelming chills of unspeakable horrors.

What the hell has he become?! He's… dead! But also… alive!

The walking corpse had begun to stagger and shamble slowly towards him, wet echoing sounds being generated as its eagerness to feast on David only grew with each second that passed by.

"Stand back!" He exclaimed, almost feeling terrified for his life, the knife in front of him slightly shaking in the grip of his right hand as he slowly stepped back. "Not an inch closer, you hear me?!"

The man had dropped the sheriff's torn flesh off of its sickly mouth, saliva dropping as some sort of dark liquid began to drop from the sick man's nostrils across his decaying mouth, filled with disgusting red open sores that revealed his own crimson flesh. The stench that permeated the air as the walking corpse got closer was becoming too unbearable to breathe in, causing David to gag and almost throw up in the process.

And then he lost his balance on top of some fallen cans of beans and soup, stumbling back as he fell to the ground, and the rotting man was only less than a few feet away when he began to drop himself on top of David and wrestled him as the repulsive man opened his rancid mouth to take a large bite on David's face.

"Shit!"

David did not realize that he had now begun to yell out in complete disgust, trying to shove the dead, stinking man away from himself as he struggled to grab the knife that lay just an inch out of his reach. For someone who appeared sick and dead, the guy had a brute strength that was comparable to his uncle, Frank, if not, twice as much.

"Get the fuck away from me!"

Putting all of his might on one arm against his cold, bloodied chest, he tried his best to grab the knife underneath the shelving rack beside him, pushing his own head to the ground as much as he could to avoid being eaten alive, much like the dead sheriff in the back.

Finally managing to grab the knife, he quickly jabbed it directly into the man's left temple, twisting it inside as his deathly, hungry expression froze over just as his eyes rolled back and became limp on top of him, blood spraying almost all over his shoulders and face and the man gave one final spasm before dying completely. Immediately throwing the revolting corpse out of the way as he took the knife out of his temple, David was now laying on the ground, shocked, terrified, and motionless, a million questions lingering inside his panicked mind.

I… I— I killed him… No. He was already dead…the eyes— those weren't the eyes of a normal human being. The eyes and the soulless cries of hunger…

…it was a zombie! A damn ZOMBIE!

It finally dawned on him that whatever the sick man was, he was not a man or human anymore. He knew his fair share of horror movies and the way how he— …it acted, it couldn't have been anything but. As much as he was now aware that zombies were actually a real thing now, he still wasn't able to fully grasp the concept. It was all fictional. It was made up. But the thing that he just killed wasn't. He was in no action or horror movie. Everything that happened just recently was all real and there was nothing he could do about it but simply deal with the awful revelation.

Dad…Frank… are you…?

No. He couldn't think of that yet.

He hasn't even been inside the city and Lord only knows if what was happening here on the outskirts of the city wasn't happening there as well. For all he knew, the gas station is just an unfortunate isolated case of someone becoming sick and attacking the building, crazed.

Damn it, David! Call him what he was! An actual zombie! Yeah, that's right. A. Fucking. Zombie!

After having been lost in his own thoughts for a while, there was some loud groaning outside of the room he was in, wet footsteps slowly shambling in search of probably the only other person who was still alive inside the building. David didn't think the employee was gonna make it, but if there were more zombies he hadn't seen when entering the building, he had to move and think about how he was gonna get out of there.

Quickly standing back on his feet, he crouched and used the dead zombie's clothing to wipe out any remaining blood and bits of disgusting scarlet tissue stuck on the knife. He didn't bother checking for a pulse on the poor sheriff that had suffered what would've been a painful death. If only he could've helped him sooner instead of hesitating whether or not to interfere…

He then looked down at what the sheriff was wearing, thinking that he may need some of the things he had more than he did now.

Sorry, sheriff. If there are more of those things out there, I'm gonna need more than just my knife…

He shook the pitiful thoughts out of the way and quickly snatched up the sheriff's utility belt that held a Glock 19 pistol and two magazines, each holding up to fifteen rounds. He then took out the handgun, checked the magazine, and it was fully loaded, bringing a slight smile to his face.

A Glock fully loaded, two magazines to spare, a bullet already in the chamber, and just like dad said; keep your finger off the trigger until your sights are on the intended target.

It was one of the very few things he actually appreciated from his dad as he rarely ever gave him any reason to appreciate him for anything, ever since he went back to the army last time he promised him he was never heading back again.

Dad… I hope you and Uncle Woods are someplace safe…

Hoping against hope, he proceeded further inside the back office, until he found a lone key on the rack close to where what would most likely be the manager's desk. As he grabbed it, he heard an inhuman growl behind him. Quickly turning around to see what it was in the blanketing shadows, he froze. His eyes began to widen as he stood still for a long moment, trying not to believe what he was seeing.

"No…" he gasped as he slowly began to aim the Glock at what he was looking at, shaking his head in both fear and complete disbelief. "No way… This is a nightmare!"

The corpse of what had once been the sheriff himself had slowly stood up, growling and now acting the exact same way as the other sick— zombie had been acting. Arms raised, his deathly expression now showed and erupted the same merciless cry of hunger as the sheriff slowly began to stagger towards him, eyes lost in a limbo between life and death, blood still seeping from the exposed flesh wound he had endured right before what should've been his permanent death.

It's the night of the fucking living dead!

"I'm sorry, officer…" said David sympathetically, and he began to shoot him twice in the chest, splattering chunks of crimson blood and tissue just about everywhere in the former sheriff's vicinity, and still, barely fazed and determined to continue after him, groaning and moaning for the hunger it had begun to feel the moment his corpse had come back alive.

Those should've been clean hits! How is he still standing?!

As the creature in front of him began to walk almost less than five feet away from him, David continue firing three more shots near where his heart would be. The entry wounds squirted more blood, too much in fact that the creature shouldn't even have the energy to be standing anymore, but still, the spine-chilling wails from the former sheriff continued and it kept on going, already catching up to him as his pale, deathly hands were less than a couple of feet away from him.

Seeing no other possible way to kill the walking corpse, he quickly aimed at the head in a desperate attempt to put it down for good, and in just one single shot in the forehead, the former officer stumbled back and quickly tumbled to the ground, now laying flat on its back. The corpse gave a few death spasms before becoming as motionless as he'd been before, its eyes having rolled backward as the previous zombie before it.

David held the Glock firmly with trembling hands, still aiming at the fallen zombie for a few more moments before finally putting his grip on one hand, and aiming it down. His expression was still frozen in shock as he stared back at the one person with whom he just had an interaction not even several minutes ago.

Whatever thing was responsible for the quick transformation that he had witnessed so far, he knew deep in the back of his mind that whatever Woods had told him about the mysterious attacks, murders, and disappearances, it must be connected to this somehow…

…and whatever disease has infected some of the population out here, the cannibal killings, animal attacks…it all had to have a connection with…

…this.

There was an immediate banging on the door that was next to the other side of the one he had come in from. The hungry muffled wails of a couple more zombies were heard, pounding on the door relentlessly as they must've heard the shots coming from inside the room.

David shuddered at the noises, but if he wanted to get out of there alive, he needed to go through and deal with whatever was waiting for him outside the locked door.

If the guy hadn't died of blood loss already, he must've been dinner by now, maybe turned into one of them, and joined by a couple more of them…

And then he heard loud shots from a really powerful firearm.

Is there someone out there alive?

Feeling slightly relieved knowing that he wasn't the only one fighting for his life, he firmly held onto his newly acquired weapon and rounded around the corner of the shelf racks. He then proceeded to go through the door that had a keyhole on it, quickly assuming that the key he was now holding was for that specific door.

The growls behind the door only grew louder as he now stood right in front of it, joined by the sounds of a weapon being fired almost continuously, probably coming from outside of the gas station.

Alright. So you're in the middle of a zombie real-life horror film. Think about how they did it in the movies…

…always aim for the head. Worked with the sheriff so far.

Quickly unlocking and opening the door, he immediately stepped back as two more zombies came in almost bursting with high levels of energy to grab David for their next meal and he immediately began firing without hesitation, now knowing those people were too far gone from the world of the living.

One by one, they stumbled back and their bodies toppled in loud thuds. The smell of rot and decay has already begun to overwhelm the faint, sweet stagnant smell of the gas station. Another zombie was walking overhead and David quickly knew exactly who that person was before he had begun to aim at its head.

Sorry, man, but this is for locking me and the sheriff with that first zombie inside.

He shot him directly in his left eyeball, feeling pity for the employee but not as much as he had for the officer he had to scavenge from and kill. Dark liquid spluttered down over his cheeks and glistening neck wound of exposed crimson flesh and bone tissue as it rolled its other eye inwards. Its entire body then collapsed to the ground in an unnatural moan, no longer moving.

Crash!

Through the dark shadows on his left, another zombie had come forward, knocking an entire rack as David almost tripped forward in trying to avoid being hit by the large falling object.

Gotta get out! NOW!

Another growl was heard from elsewhere and David did not stop to look back and figure out where it was coming from. Adrenaline pumped all over his body and he continued running down the refrigeration aisle, making a couple more turns to the left as another guttural moan soon followed, a shelf suddenly almost falling on top of him, barely dodging his way out.

Where are they all coming from?! Jesus!

David hadn't noticed any corpses inside when he last entered the store, quickly making him baffled at just how many more of them were hiding initially beforehand. There was movement outside, a shadow of a figure coming closer to the door leading his only way out to safety. Afraid that it was going to be another zombie, waiting for him to come out, he immediately stopped, only for the other figure to finally shove the door almost directly into his face.

The figure was no zombie, however, and he was now faced with a gun pointed directly at him. David's eyes began to widen, afraid that the guy was going to mistake him for one of the gnarly creatures he had to face inside the gas station. Instinctively, he dropped the Glock, raising his hands up as if he were to block the incoming shot to his face.

"Hold it, man! Don't shoot! I'm not one of—!"

The gunman did not move or flinch, the firearm still firmly aimed at his head as he immediately interrupted what he had to say.

"Get down!"

Without a single thought, David crouched to the ground immediately, bending his knees as they shook almost uncontrollably in anxiety, the cold fingertips from behind suddenly groping at his shoulders…

BAM!

The man fired a loud, explosive shot and David fixed his gaze behind his back, a close call from another of those walking dead corpses as another former employee had quickly toppled to the ground, its head having become half-mush of brain matter as it rained down in thick droplets of scarlet red, the sickly sound making David swallow back bile. The corpse twitched for a few more seconds before it finally stopped moving.

David turned his head back around to the other man who had saved his life as he slowly stood up, his blue uniform finally beginning to register in his brain for the first time - an RPD cop. He was about his and Mike's age, almost just as tall as him, and he looked massively terrified, his blue eyes wide and unblinking, the same mirrored look that told David exactly how he was feeling himself. His voice, however, gave out the complete opposite feeling - authoritative and confident.

"We can't stay out here any longer," the cop said as he crouched down and gave David back the gun he had dropped. "Keep this close. We should head to the police station together. It'll be a lot safer."

Welcome to The Rapture…

Claire did see a few people wandering around as she entered one of the main roads into the city, but it wasn't nearly enough. The place seemed deserted, almost as though everyone had just left town and left no address to go from. Her white helmet didn't do her much favors to see any activity around, but it was enough to see that there was definitely no business going on across the east side of town. She had just traveled through and across town to the west side, and again, not only did the town seem like it was lacking any activity, but there were barely any lights on and traffic was entirely made of parked cars across many streets she had ridden by. However, considering the recent disasters she had been informed about by her brother throughout the city, it didn't look anything like what was described, which calmed her nerves down a bit.

However, she did see a large group of partiers around Motel Dere, some of which were all walking down the middle of the street, seemingly drunk.

Eugh… boys and their heavy drinking…

They all seemed like the obnoxious type, but it was hardly a sign of the biblical apocalypse anyway.

Okay. No bombed ruins, no fires or smoke, no air-raid sirens, no riots or looters; so far, so good.

She had firmly planned to head to Chris' apartment but decided otherwise by the time she realized she was now passing Emmy's Diner on the way there. Chris wasn't the type to cook for himself. If anything, he knew how to cook just as much as someone's grandma knew how to play video games. He always lived on cold sandwiches, cereal, and to her surprise, instant noodles, but he would rarely ever bother with them as he'd burn himself with the kettle and hot water almost every time.

With the fact that Chris was a regular at Emmy's for almost five to six nights a week, it may be worth stopping by and checking in with one of the waitresses if they'd seen him lately.

As Claire managed to pull the Harley to a gentle stop in front of Emmy's, she noticed in the corner of her eye some strange movement, a couple of rats skimming over an overflown garbage dumpster as they jumped down and headed to safety near the sidewalk. She put down the stand and began to hover one foot over the bike as she slowly stood up, her butt and muscles aching even more as she moved her stiff legs.

She began to take off her helmet and put it down on the warm seat, now able to fully grasp her environment with a much clearer view of the dark and silent city

Well…I'm finally here at least.

As she began shaking out and fixing her ponytail, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. The smell that was overwhelming her senses was terrible, to say the least. She thought it could be coming from the stacks of trash bags that had been overflowing out of the dumpster for some time, a severe toxic stink that almost made her gag.

It's barely Tuesday night. No holidays. All the garbage should be gone by now. Something's not right…

Before deciding to head in, she shook her legs and arms slightly for a brief warm-up, wiping any remaining layer of road grime on her as well. She had been feeling cold. Shorts and a simple vest were no match for the nightfall temperatures around this time of year, once again reminding her how dumb she'd been to ride bare and unprepared.

Yeah, and I'll get another lecture from Chris for that as well. So dumb!

She wasn't feeling all too hopeful that Chris would be in Emmy's Diner, but asking around might give her a clue as to where he's been for the past month or so. The building had its front glass brightly shining in a clear, yellow-orange light, meaning that the restaurant was still well-lit and active. As she slowly entered the once lively restaurant, she looked front and back around, immediately frowning.

"Hello? Is… anyone here?" Her voice fell through and there was no indication of any sort of sound change through her flowing voice in the environment itself. The only other sounds were that of the soft hum of the ceiling fans that spanned across the diner from above. The familiar scent of stale oily grease permeated the air, but something unusual started to smell too - bitter, but a faint rotting smell of something… dying.

Her disappointment had turned into sudden confusion. Remembering the times when she had visited Chris almost regularly over the past few years, she'd always been at the diner, whether it'd be day or night. The place would be filled with a chatty, calming atmosphere, teeming with life at just about every corner you could imagine inside the diner. Whether it'd be at the red stools, the wide, brown booths, or even the kitchen further up ahead, which would be filled with cooks during busy hours, communicating with one another through the steaming and roasting sounds of food on their appliances. On top of it all, there was always the one regular that'd stay just about the whole day, chatting with one of the waitresses, the young brunette girl if Claire remembered correctly. Not to mention a pair of middle-aged friends who would always come during the night, sipping their small cups of decaf coffee as they each read the local newspaper of the day, their conversations almost loud enough for everyone in the diner to hear.

So then… where are they? It's not even past nine yet…

The restaurant wasn't huge. It was merely L-shaped, with booths stretching off from her right, all the way to the back, and a sudden left turn. Still visibly confused and bewildered, Claire walked slowly, unsure what to make out of the empty place that used to be packed at all hours of the day. Over the lunch counter, there was the wait station and past it, the entrance to the kitchen itself. If Emmy's was still open, the staff would be hanging around between the wait station and the kitchen, probably just as surprised as she'd be for not seeing a single customer around anywhere…

…but then that wouldn't explain some of the mess, would it?

The place wasn't an entire mess in itself, but it was subtle enough to cause some red flags on what kind of incident happened at the restaurant. A few menus and plates were on the floor, some of them upturned. Several napkins on the booth tables were out of place, their silverware carelessly dropped on the seats, and a lone drinking glass on the counter with a spilled clear soft drink that no one had bothered to clean up.

Uhh… yeah this is getting a little… creepy.

Claire had very few clues and dots to connect about what had happened around her, but considering all the unusual things she had seen so far after having entered the city, she did not even want to bother checking the building any further and her instincts screamed to get herself out of there. Who knew if they all were setting up for a surprise party, or if there had been a robbery gone wrong? All she knew was that the diner did not look like an ideal place for her to be anymore and…

…there was some strange sound of movement from underneath a hidden space between the booths at the other end of the restaurant, a sudden movement of a table moving ever so slightly, followed by a small grunt and what sounded like someone eating their dinner. Somebody was here, probably hiding so they wouldn't get caught stealing food.

With her heart beginning to race and thump loudly, Claire called out again.

"Hello?"

For a short moment, there was nothing - then another grunt, a muted sound by what seemed like an unnatural moan that didn't sound anything pleasant, making her hairs raise on the back of her neck.

Claire did not like any of it. For as much as she wasn't afraid to do most things that girls her age wouldn't dare to do, her inner childish instincts were telling her to just run and leave the building. Maybe it could be someone who committed a robbery, killed everyone in the vicinity, stuffed their bodies someplace inside the kitchen, and took all the money and food they could get. If they were to see her now, she'd probably be their next victim and may end up getting herself killed if she wasn't careful.

But another realization came to her mind.

Maybe it could be someone who is gravely injured, eating whatever scraps of food they can to help them survive and needs her help, possibly grunting as they could be in severe pain - a possible survivor.

Whether she liked it or not, entering the building had already made her involved with whatever has happened around the diner. Claire sighed and hurried to the back, almost having no expectations at this point. She knew how to take care of herself so if worse comes to worst, she'd deal with it somehow.

She reached the last booth at the end and looked to her right…

…and froze, eyes widened, feeling as though she had entered into a horrible crime scene of a disturbing documentary. Just between the booth stand and the table underneath was a balding-old man, dressed in a cook's attire, his back facing her. The back of his skull looked almost unusually pale, the faint stink now becoming a lot stronger, smelling as though a dead skunk had been baking under the intense summer heat for days. The man was crouched over the body of one of the waitresses. She didn't know what exactly he was doing, but as she gazed closer at the waitress' body, something was seriously very wrong with her, so wrong, Claire wasn't willing to believe it right away.

She took a closer look at the name tag in the pink uniform she wore, her whole body brimming with growing dread and anxiety.

Petunia!

…her head. Her head is gone!

Once Claire had slowly realized what was wrong, she could no longer take it off her mind for as much as she wanted to. A dark pool of coagulating blood was where the waitress' head should've been, the thick and sticky puddle with splattered chunks of skull and hair fragments all over the gory floor. The cook in front of her had one hand over her left shoulder while the other had a red, scarlet mass of flesh as he was…

Eating her?! No. That'd be… What the hell is—?!

Claire let out a large gasp, her mouth wide open as she began to prepare to say something in response, but nothing could come out. Speechless and shocked at the sudden sight of an ongoing night terror, she stepped away as the man turned to stare back at her, hands dropping away from the body in front of it, and began to let out a low, pitiful wail, the cataracted eyes showing himself to be completely dead.

His face was smeared with blood, the fingers clotted and encrusted with bits of dark crimson tissue, the strange dead alien look as he came face to face with her, pale skin with decaying features, and the stink of a sunbathed roadkill.

Zombie…

It was a child's late-night horror story during a common sleepover and campfire, her mind quickly accepting it in a split second as she looked at the man in front of her; she'd never turn a blind eye to the seeming impossibilities of life itself. However, she wasn't an idiot either to not be able to describe exactly the way he acted and sounded, whether she was superstitious or not.

Zombies, huh? Not even close to what I'd imagined Raccoon to have…

Claire continued to stumble backward, a blind, feverish panic starting to settle in, but tried calming herself down as much as she could. She knew that if she were to give in to fear itself, any hopes of her rationale and logical thinking would be instantly wiped away the second she'd let her emotions overcome her survival instincts. The cook continued to turn as he began rising from his crouch. He was a huge man, almost a foot over her own height of 5'6.5".

He's… dead! And just like he did to Petunia, he's going to eat you too! Don't let him come any closer!

The cook took a step closer and Claire had taken three quick successive steps backward, almost slipping over a fallen menu as her own face began to drop into a dull, pale color, her eyes unable to blink away.

GET OUT ALREADY!

"Look… I'm sorry I bothered you, okay?" She said in a nervous and fearful tone as she continued to babble. "Just don't come any closer… Are you listening?!"

The cook began to stagger forward, his white, emotionless eyes of pure hunger fixated on a fearful Claire as she looked for the handle through the air behind her, unable to look away from his hideous appearance.

She immediately found the handle of the door from where she had first come in from. Without thinking twice, she turned around to quickly get herself out…

…and a sudden scream and sharp cry of horror came out from her as she saw there were two more of them, waiting for her outside as they mindlessly clawed their gory hands over the glass window of the door, desperately reaching out for her, the chilling moans and wails causing her skin to crawl even more.

One of them had two holes from where their nose should've been; another had its cheeks slowly disintegrating away as they pushed their face onto the glass itself, tearing off dead skin as it revealed the gory details of its rotten flesh. Beyond the two zombies in front were dark silhouettes of a bigger horde that Claire never saw just minutes earlier after arriving at the diner, all of them shuffling out in the wide open in search of prey.

Jesus! I'm trapped…

…the back door! Yes, run over there!

Claire turned around and wasted no time as she turned to face the glowing green exit sign that shined above the door to her left, her full attention on her only hope of escape, and made a full run toward it. Everything around the center of her vision had become an entire blur, her body pumping in adrenaline as her arms and legs raced to give her speed that she hadn't felt in a long time.

The door led to an alleyway and she prepared herself to give a full push towards the door as soon as she managed to hit it, hoping that it wasn't locked or else she'd be into real trouble.

Claire slammed the door open, pushing herself against the brick wall of the alley, and she found herself shoving a wandering zombie by accident, its head becoming into complete mush as the impact it took against the hard, concrete floor made it burst apart. She sat down for a quick moment to take in some air, but the air around her had become more bitter, filled with a deadly toxic stench that immediately caused her to throw up bile, completely disgusted after seeing the violent detail she had caused on a zombified man that could've been waiting for her just on the other side of the door she slammed into.

As she turned her head around, there were at least five of them, shambling and wailing mindlessly as they began to look for the source of the abrupt noises she had made, all of them blocking the way that led deeper into the alley.

Fortunately for her, the way out of the alley that face the street had only one staggering woman, her cries of hunger piercing the air around, her arms raised as her brittle, bare legs covered in red sores and dried blood worked their way towards Claire, fingers flailing almost excitedly.

Gotta get to my bike! Gotta move!

With a bigger motivation to leave the place, she ran towards the shambling zombie, shoving her out of the way as she slammed against the alley's wall with a loud thud, and Claire began to move to her left, only to be faced with the realization that there was no way she could reach for her Harley any longer.

The shambling corpses had now overrun the entire street. An endless wave of hungry wails and cries for afterlife dinner had filled the once-deserted street. Many more were seen walking around, still not aware of her presence, but the ones that were within a fifteen-foot radius had begun to slowly take several staggering steps toward her, their faces all covered in blood, all of their eyes bleached in a dead, white glow.

How is it that an entire city had turned into zombies?! Are there any survivors left?

As if the city itself prepared to give her an answer, there was a sudden pair of growing lights ahead of the road, almost coming forward at an alarming speed. Desperate to look for help, she ran to the middle of the street, stopped, and began to wave her hands, shouting back at the incoming driver to pull over and get her out of the hellhole she had involved herself in.

Author's Note: Oh boy... here we go!
Things have gotten pretty intense for our three main characters. I'm sorry for the extremely long chapter. I wanted to get their initial predicaments out of the way first before having all three of them meet up together in the next chapter, which is another long chapter in itself. As I said before, these chapters will be a lot longer than usual. Not by this much, but at least more than 5k words long. Hopefully, I managed to make this chapter decent...