Sewer Gators
Tall Oaks 2013
Windows burst with the musical tinkle of shattering glass. Bodies fell onto the cobblestone walk to chase them. More poured from open doorways and surrounding buildings.
They battled, they retreated, they tried to turn back. And they were blocked there as well.
They pushed forward, and there was a police cruiser there with rotating red and blue lights. Hurrying toward it, they leaped in. Helena jumped into the passenger side, Jill slipped into the back, and Leon grabbed the driver's seat.
They started digging for the keys while the slapping started. It echoed. It was hands and faces and blood and moaning. They shook the car with it. Helena checked the glovebox. Jill looked under the seats. Leon finally found the keys in the visor above the windshield.
Jill didn't find the keys under the seat, but she found a shotgun. She hefted it, grinning.
Leon hit the gas, and the cruiser shot forward, bumping, crunching, and taking bodies with it. They left blood smears on the ground as they ran over their attackers and hit the road at a fast clip.
Over his headset, he said, "Hunnigan – we're off the campus. Headed to the cathedral."
"Good. Stay clear of the main part of town if you can. It's overrun. Take the back roads."
"Roger."
The little cruiser shot down the road, fast and smooth. Jill leaned back in the seat and buckled herself in. Helena shifted in the front seat. Leon glanced at her face, "You said it was your fault. Tell me what you meant."
Helena shook her head, "Not yet. I have to show you. Ok? Please."
"Goddamnit. You think I have time for games?! Start talking."
"I-it's-you won't believe me. If I just-you won't listen."
"You think I'm here because I care about your demons!? I have my own, lady. And they're legion. But the one I put a bullet in for you? He wasn't a demon. He was like a father to me. He was my friend. And I put him down. You better get on your knees and pray like hell that what's on the other end of this road is worth that cost. Otherwise? You'll find out what happens to my enemies. It'll make a bullet to the head feel like a gift."
Softly, Jill advised, "Easy. Breathe."
"Fuck that." He shook his head angrily, "Fuck easy. I'm about two seconds from losing it here. Give me one good reason I shouldn't leave you on the side of the road and watch them tear you to pieces."
Helena made a slight sound of fear. "...I had no choice."
His beautiful face was feral in the moonlight. "There's always a choice. Only a coward chooses their needs over a nation. And that's what you did tonight. You think whatever is waiting makes a difference? It doesn't. It never will. Listen to the screaming, Harper, and look at the faces of everyone around you dying. Whatever it is. Whatever you had to do...it wasn't worth it. And you'll spend the rest of your life trying to pay the price."
What had he done? Jill wondered. What kind of life had he known? The kind that left him washed in regret and haunted by the screams of people he couldn't save. There's always a choice, he said. And he was right. There was always a choice.
And sometimes, you pick the wrong one. You just had to live with it. Could he? Could he live with what he'd done?
Could Helena?
If she said nothing and let Leon shoot this woman dead between the eyes for her betrayal, could she live with herself?
Cautiously, Jill soothed, "We want whoever is pulling the strings here, Leon. You shoot her; we lose that small hope. Just breathe."
His eyes caught hers in the rearview mirror. She nodded with solidarity. She repeated it softly, "Breathe."
He didn't want to. He wanted to roar. He wanted to lift a fist and punch the woman in the seat beside him. He wanted to punch her until she was hamburger and blood. The rage ate along the edges of his careful control and threatened them all.
The blue gaze watching him so solemnly in that rearview mirror steadied him. She wasn't judging. She wasn't doing anything but lending him a quiet sense of reason. Rage would get them killed. And he wanted more than Helena Harper's blood for what she'd done. He wanted every single person behind it.
He wouldn't get it if he didn't pull it back and swallow that rage.
Leon opened his mouth to say something else, and a little boy ran out into the street. Jill shouted. The boy lifted his hands to scream at them to stop, and Leon hit the brakes. The body waiting on the roof for just that moment tumbled to the hood and reared back.
Time stood still, Leon jerked the wheel and missed the little boy in the road by inches, and the zombie on the cruiser's hood punched clear through the safety glass of the windshield. It shattered in a spill of chunky glass. It didn't hurt where it landed, which was the purpose of the safety glass. Real glass would have cut them to ribbons. It rained down on them like chunks of hail while Helena shot the advancing zombie through the broken windshield. It grabbed Leon as it went backward, ripping him toward the shattered window. He lost control of the cruiser, Helena grabbed for him, Jill grabbed for the wheel….and it was too late.
The car spun, skidded, squealed, laid rubber, and toppled left. And it flipped. It flipped, sparking with metal and fire; it skidded and tumbled. The zombie was obliterated in the roll, and Leon fell back in his seat.
Helena hit the roof, Leon hit the broken windshield and felt it cut his face, and the car spun like a top on its roof and came to a stop. Jill had been saved from being tossed around by her belt. The engine clunked and sputtered and burst into flame.
Jill turned and kicked out the shattered window beside her. She crawled free and turned back to help Leon through. Helena emerged from the other side. She was limping and bloody but alright. Jill looped his arm over her shoulders and led them away from the car. After a few moments, it erupted with flame and sound. The explosion was loud and forceful. It tried to knock them around like bowling pins. It erupted and took out two other cars, creating a symphony of flame and crackling heat.
They were surrounded now by fire.
Over his headset, Hunnigan said, "Oh my god! Are you alright?"
Helena answered, "We're ok. But we're trapped."
"You have to take the sewer system. It will take you to the subway tracks. From there, you can get to the main part of town. But…it's horrible. It's bad. I wish I could tell you a safer route. What's in that cathedral? Is it worth all this?"
Helena held their gazes as Jill and Leon turned to her.
She nodded. "We need what's there. Need it. It's how we stop the man who did this. Please. You have to trust me."
Leon said, into the headset, "Yeah. It's worth it."
"Be careful. I'm sending a subway and sewer map to your phone. I'm getting reports in from all over. The town is lost, Leon. If you find any survivors, do your best to get them out. But it may be a lost cause."
Leon breathed a little and let go of Jill. He turned to the manhole cover that waited for them, sore but ok. His phone beeped on a map. He glanced at Jill in the flickering firelight.
She turned, and Helena leaped down into the open manhole. Leon sighed a little and followed her. Jill went last and stumbled a little in the dark when she landed.
Leon steadied her and clicked on his light in the darkness to see her face. She lifted her hand to smear her fingers over the blood on his cheek. She said softly, "That might scar."
"I'll live. Just won't be so pretty anymore, huh?"
She gave him a cool look, steadying him again. She whispered, "Still pretty."
He smiled a little. And they realized they were both whispering. Helena was too. She whispered, "Is this really the only way?"
Leon let go of Jill reluctantly. She rolled the shotgun in her hands and offered it to him.
Curious, he lifted his brows at her. "Me? You keep it. I'm better with the pistol."
Nodding, she kept it and swung it onto her back again. She palmed her pistol, and they moved down the stairs into the damp and the dark. Someone was making a raspy sound of breathing. She realized it was Leon and caught his arm.
She turned her light to his face. Jill queried, "What? Not a fan of sewers?"
He laughed a little dryly.
"Is anyone? The last two times I was in the sewers, I faced an alligator as large as a school bus and some enhanced monster with claws that tried to cleave my head from my shoulders. Turns out sewers and I aren't friends."
Helena whispered, "IT lived in the sewers too, right? That clown from that Steven King story?"
Jill glanced at her wryly. Leon gave her a bland stare.
Helena laughed weakly, "Sorry. Sorry. That is not helping anything. Nope. Not helping."
Leon shook his head, "If there is a clown in this sewer, I will force-feed it one of its floppy shoes."
Jill chuckled softly, "Would you punch it in its squeaky red nose?"
Leon snorted. "That's the Chris Redfield special, dollface. I'll just shoot it."
They cleared the dark tunnel and emerged in the stinky, moldy, rotten stench-filled sewer lines. The smell of old garbage and human waste swelled up like the world's worst perfume. Helena wrinkled her nose, and Jill shuddered.
Leon said, "Do not fall in here. It's like the Bog of Eternal Stench. You dip one toe in it; you'll smell forever."
Jill paused to look at his face. He glanced at her and lifted his brows.
"What?"
"You are something. Did you just reference Labyrinth?"
He held her look. "….no?"
"You did. You total geek." God, she thought, they should have had more time for just being...them. Nothing but nightmares, it seemed, even if you'd been bungee jumping hours before. Being in the sewer, surrounded by the rotting stench of the undead, stagnant water, and the feces of others, put a damper on the need for it. "I'm on to you, Leon Kennedy. You're a geek in three thousand dollar designer clothes."
He studied her in the soft light. "Like me, do you?"
"Too early to tell. But it's leaning that way."
They pressed forward, clearing as they moved. The sewer was relatively safe. Rats scurried, they hurried, they squeaked. But they didn't find any trouble waiting for them. They stepped out into the maintenance chute for the subway and were still without trouble.
Maybe they'd get lucky here?
And then they heard it.
Growling.
Shimmering eyes lighted the darkness. It flickered with trashcan fires in the distance. There was the shimmer and crackle of electricity from broken lines. And dogs.
There were dogs.
Everywhere.
Fifteen, twenty…thirty. Dogs. Packs of dogs. The strays under the city were all living here and all infected. They growled, they rotted, they gathered. Exposed muscle and sinew, glinting bone and pus, dripping blood and rot. They were horrifying.
Helena lifted her gun.
Jill shook her head and jacked a shell into the shotgun.
She blasted the first one that charged, and Leon braced.
The second one got a clean shot in its leaping face. He dropped low, and the third one that leaped was met with his boots as he rolled to his back, stuck his feet into it, and threw it up and out. Jill blasted two more, and Helena drove her knife into another while it yelped and squealed.
Where two fell, four took its place. They were in desperate trouble here.
There was a chugging sound in the distance. Leon glanced at Jill, she glanced at Helena…and lights began to flicker down the far tunnel. Bodies started running and lumbering toward them. The dogs gathered closer, forcing the three of them against the wall.
Jill blasted two more, and a train horn's sound filled the tunnel.
Leon exclaimed softly, "What the fuck!?"
And the train burst around the corner on its rickety track. There was a squeal of metal as it cornered sharply and smashed into bodies as it went. Dogs scattered and went down, splattered and bursting with blood. Bone crunched; yelping and whining and screaming filled the tunnel. Leon threw Helena against the wall, and she flattened. Jill threw herself against him and flattened them both together.
The wind rushed, and the world ran white and loud with light flashes and barreling speed. The wind tossed their hair, and the train thundered passed them. It passed inches from Jill's back; it tried to take Helena's nose. It was that close.
Leon looped his arms around Jill and pulled her into him so tight it left her breathless. She slid her hands around his back and into his pants and gripped his ass. And as the train rushed passed, so close, so scary, so loud…she could hear him laugh in her ear. The flash of spinning lights lit the tunnel, and she turned her face. His hair was being thrown around like a tornado. He turned his cheek, and she gave him a brilliant smile.
It had no place here amongst the smell of copper and the squeal of metal inches from death. It had no place while they balanced the line between life and death. But weren't they always?
What the fuck? Why not? What else could you do but laugh at how impossible it all was? He gathered that single breath of good humor to him and she took it on a short laugh. And she took something else with it. She took the edge of panic and hopelessness that had been trying to eat him since he'd put a bullet in his oldest friend. She took with her laugh while the wind rushed and the world burst with speed and sound and death. She took his pain and spilled the ridiculousness of this moment into him like healing light.
She drew back, and it warmed her chest to see that look on his face. The rage, the grief, and regret were still there, but it was mixed now with the humor and gratitude.
The train rocketed past finally, rickety and clackety on its tracks. Helena heaved out a gasp of fear and shuddered. Jill let go of Leon reluctantly and stepped back from him. He watched her, amused and grateful for her. She didn't let you linger there in your pain for long. This girl…she just jerked you out of your misery and made you remember what you were fighting for.
Not alone, his brain said; you're not alone now. Don't you see? She's here to remind you that you're not in this alone this time. Where would you be if she wasn't here? Probably still kneeling on the floor in Adam's blood.
He'd started to question the fight lately. It had felt like a road that never ended. It was watching people die and bleed and burst apart. It was waking up alone and looking for anyone who wanted to hold your hand when the night was long, and the world was hopeless. He'd started to turn his head toward retirement.
At this moment? He didn't want to retire. He wanted to fight forever…as long as she was there to fight beside him.
No wonder Chris Redfield never wavered, never backed down, and never gave up. It was her. She was the fight. She was the drive. She was the purpose. She offered you hope when there was none. She offered light when the dark was everywhere. She was it. She was why you kept fighting.
Because Jill Valentine was standing beside you.
He'd known her for one whole day. And it was the best day he'd ever had. Ever. Because she just slid into him and took away his pain. And filled him with her hope.
They moved up the tunnel together quickly. They cleared as they moved. The train had left a mess in her wake. She'd left blood and guts and splatter. She'd also cleared the way for them. So that was the positive part. They had a subway train for an ally.
Helena said, "There was no one driving it."
Curious, Leon met her eyes in the darkness. She nodded. "No one."
Leon glanced at Jill. "Zombie Express."
Jill nodded a little. "Let's get out of here. Quickly."
They leaped up onto the platform by the train car that was now silent. It was still hissing with the release of gears and hydraulic brakes. It smoked a little. They moved toward the dropped shutter that would take them to the street. Leon could hear the beating on the side.
Jill looked at his face. "Overrun?"
"Without a doubt."
"You want to push on to the next exit?"
He opened his mouth to answer, and the subway train door was kicked loudly. A heavy-set woman in a bloody pink t-shirt was slapping the doors. She shouted, "HELP ME OUT OF HERE! HURRY!"
Helena pried open the doors, and the woman gushed out. She rushed for the shutters.
Leon tried to grab her, "Hey! Don't!"
But she hit the button and heard the click and clunk of gears with a rusty peel of noise as it started rising. "BENNY! I'm coming! BENNY!"
Hands grabbed her from beneath the small opening as the shutter rose.
Leon shot into the hands, but it didn't matter. They pulled her under while she screamed. They could hear her screaming and the crunch and rip of flesh. They could listen to her gurgling and gasping. They could hear them eating her.
Eating her.
The shutter jerked and stopped halfway up.
And the zombies came through the opening. They moved together. They started stomping and kicking and crushing skulls. They shot, they stabbed, they stomped. The ones that didn't die in the crawling died from a knife in the head.
Finally, the silence was loud.
Leon ducked under and cleared the other side. What else could you? Huddle in fear and cry?
Helena and Jill followed, and they moved toward the street above.
The moment the doors opened, they heard the screaming. The city was on fire. Everywhere you looked, it burst with flame and smoke and death. Inky clouds of acrid stench curled upward like hungry tongues. People ran and fell, dying and turning and dying again. People fired into them, screaming, fleeing, and failing. Cars flipped and caught fire in squeals of metal and smoke.
It was hell on earth.
They hurried toward a group of survivors, making a stand near the gas station in the center of town. A cop, a girl, a guy with a mohawk...and the little boy from the street. They ran in to join the fray. No time to greet, meet, or make friends. They fought, shouting, shooting. The girl was crying. The mohawk guy was yelling at her to shut the fuck up.
"Help me!"
"NO! Fuck you!"
"PETER! PLEASE!"
And a semi came toward them. It blew its horn. It hit a group of cars and burst with fire. It barreled at the gas station. Jill shouted. Leon grabbed her and dove. Helena grabbed the boy and did the same.
The rolled, the semi hit the gas pumps in a rush and burst of screaming brakes and ripping metal. The gasp pumps were torn free from the ground, and gas geysered up into the flickering sky with a burst of sound. There was a WHOOSH, a WHOMP of pressure, and the exposed fuel erupted into a volcano of fire.
The world shifted and exploded, and the sky split with fire, fear, and death. Bodies were blasted free like macabre confetti; blood splashed in pink mist as corpses were instantly obliterated, and monsters fell and burned and stank. Humans did the same, reduced to melting flesh and bone like candle wax.
"GET IN HERE!"
A man was gesturing from a gun shop across the street.
They raced toward it. The girl was crying. The little boy was helping her. Peter, the douche with the mohawk, shoved her aside and ran. The cop was muttering, "My first day, and I'm in the middle of a firefight."
With sympathy, Leon slapped his shoulder as they ran. "I feel ya, buddy."
They slammed the door to the gun shop, and everyone scattered, stumbled, and collapsed to relearn to breathe. The girl was sobbing loudly. The little boy was standing there, stricken and pale. Peter was laughing like a loon.
The cop turned to him. "Thank you. I'm Carl."
"Leon. This is Helena and Jill."
Carl nodded. "Let's get to the roof. This way."
The gun shop was raided. There were scattered rounds on the floor that Jill gathered for her shotgun. Leon picked up an assault rifle and cleared it as he grabbed two magazines from the floor and started collecting stray ammo.
At the top of the stairs, a voice called. "Beat it! You're not coming in!"
The door was locked. They were stuck in the shop. Leon replied, "Don't be an idiot; let us in!"
"No! Go away!"
The front window of the shop exploded with glass. The girl in their rag tag group screamed. Leon turned back, and the shop started to fill with the undead.
Beyond the door, the man there shouted, "Clear them out, and I'll let you in!"
With no choice, they turned back.
And prepared to make a desperate stand.