The fuel tanker exploded. Its fiery inferno burned the air and tore through the eardrums of anyone above the surface. In unison, all three of them gasped for air and kept themselves afloat. They were swimming in the stale murky water next to a patch of burning fire. Their eardrums were ringing, but still grateful to be alive.

A small tunnel above the water level was behind them; it was pitch black inside. Also very silent as only the gentle howls of the which whistled through. It was small. Mark could barely fit; he had to crawl on his hands and knees.

Apart from the rotten odour of decay and staleness, the sewers weren't the sewage type. Not the one for local waste. That was the best part of the day, not walking around ankle-deep in human faeces. After the small drop, the walls of the rotten tunnel were layered with lines of growing moss and muck.

Vermin was scuttling around close to their feet, but it was too dark to see them, bright enough to not bump into anything. There was only natural light. Around a left turn, there was a ladder to the surface. There was no other way as iron bars from top to bottom halted their advance. ;t could've been a way out, but it was never meant to be.

Kevin pushed the manhole cover away and climbed onto the surface first. The Apple Inn Hotel was a marvel of Raccoon City, a popular attraction for tourists and citizens alike. Now it's a barren eyesore with nothing of value. The building was four stories of death and emptiness. Kevin inspected the glass double doors to be barricaded from the inside. No one was getting in or out.

A makeshift safe area on the road outside comprised a small flat road with wrecked cars forming a semicircle. The rest of the road beyond that was blocked off with rubble. There were three other people there too, civilians and a bald police officer. The checkpoint was kept in check by the R.P.D.

Up close, the bald policeman had a thick black moustache. He and Kevin took a moment to shake hands and check out the area. Apparently, nothing has been happening around the checkpoint recently. No recent arrivals or zombies. The streets were battered and also empty of life. The railing to the left was too high, and a door to the right was boarded up.

A blue S.W.A.T. van was fully operational in the middle of the road. It wasn't strong enough to plough through everything, but it could still drive on the road. The other direction. Cindy took a look through the rear window. There were some weapons inside the back. A shotgun and a handgun were resting on a weapon rack, with some ammo too.

"This will certainly help," Cindy murmured. Mark stepped behind Cindy and looked over her shoulder.

Kevin stepped into view with the policeman close by. "Dorian set up this checkpoint yesterday. So far, only these two arrived." Kevin pointed to two other survivors by the left railing.

Dorian had a broad Texan accent. "I was hoping to escort survivors to the R.P.D. with this checkpoint here," he said, "Though, with the situation on Main Street, we may have to rendezvous with Harry, Elliot and Eric and wait for extraction."

Kevin glanced at Dorian. "What's going on with Main Street? They're still having trouble keeping it secure?"

"The infected population increased rapidly over the last few hours." Dorian took a glance and met Kevin's eyes with his." They're setting up some explosives to clear the road." He walked by the driver's side of the van.

"Are we ready to leave?" Cindy asked.

"I need to give it some time," Dorian replied.

"Until when?"

"Soon… Maybe some more people will show up. This will be the last trip from this checkpoint, and I want it to be good. You three look like you could use a rest anyway."

"Sure." Kevin took a short walk with Cindy and Mark to sit with the other two survivors. They just glared and said nothing. The injured one wearing the grey shirt looked like he was ready to die, and the other just looked like he couldn't be bothered anymore.

"What did he say about Main Street?" Cindy asked again. Slumping down on the cold floor with her legs crossed.

"We'll hopefully get escorted to the Police Department once we meet up with some more officers."

"Hopefully?"

"I'm not feeling so lucky," Kevin muttered. He shook his head and leant against a stone archway by the railing. "Kinda shit-show out here, can go one of two ways really."

"Guess this is gonna be a long day..." Cindy placed her head in the palm of her hands.

Five minutes later...

Dorian took out a megaphone from the passenger seat of the van and licked his lips. "This is the Raccoon City Police Department!" he announced loudly through his megaphone. The sounds of his voice stretched far and wide. Who would hear it outside the vicinity was the question. Not as many as you'd think. "Please try to stay calm! A vehicle is standing by for evacuation! We need everyone here as quickly as possible!"

Dorian allowed his pleas to be digested by everyone's ears before he decided to get the S.W.A.T. van ready to move. The loud message sank in well enough for everyone to hear. Sadly, there was only six of them in total. No one else showed up.

Dorian was working with a skeleton crew. No new arrivals. The situation was that bad. The five made their way to Dorian and waited for his authorisation to make a transit to Main Street. All the way to the haven if possible.

The R.P.D. was the only safe place to stay until good luck strikes. They were all ready to leave the checkpoint, and Dorian, unfortunately, knew it. He directed everyone in the back of the van and took off without any delay.

Once everyone boarded the van, Dorian operated the wheel and kept to the road. The road ahead was destroyed with rubble and vehicular wrecks. Now and then, a bumpy ride along the side streets was the only way forward.

Any way to get to the rendezvous was a priority; the department was the best solution, only it wasn't that easy. Zombies weren't the only things blocking and obstructing the evacuation. Sometimes it was blue roadblocks.

"The highway is too dangerous," Dorian said and came to a halt at a blue R.P.D. barricade. It blocked the road and was a huge hassle. So huge it was too much trouble than it's worth. Dorian exclaimed loudly out of frustration. "Damn it! Another barricade?" Dorian leant and gazed at the people in the back of the van. All five of them. "There are too many roadblocks. I'm afraid you may have to get out and continue on foot."

"For fuck's sake!" one of the survivors exclaimed.

"That's fine, Dorian," Kevin said, "I'll lead them to the guys."

"I'm sorry for only taking you halfway, Kev. I'll do my best to make my way to Main Street, see if I can find anyone on the way or something."

The survivor in the blue jumper kicked the van's rear doors open with a mighty boot and growled to the incompetence of the local police. "How irresponsible they are! How dare they leave us in a place like this?! They told us to walk the rest of the way?! It's as if they were telling us to die! I'll die my own way. Not like this."

Kevin stepped out of the van and scanned the surrounding area. It was from a local residential area. The backlot of several apartment complexes. Most doors and windows were boarded up, and the only shelter from the light drizzle of rain was the SWAT van and under a small building. One suspended by iron girders & rebars. The van sat dead in the middle of the road with solid, blue R.P.D. barricades firmly placed to cease road movements.

The road ahead looked like it was ready to collapse and cave in, though that was the last resort. It might just lead to the Police Department, but only if the plan to rig Main Street with explosives fails. Harry, Eric and Elliot were there to bring the massive zombie horde there to a standstill; if they failed in any way, all hell would break loose. Either way, they all needed to reach the department. If the detonation plan was a problem, someone had to finish it.

Kevin says the other two unimportant survivors sought shelter under a small platform. The injured one slumped on the wet floor while the other in the sweater was still complaining like a critic. "You're not exactly helping, sir," Kevin said.

"Whatever. Me and my bud are going to stay here and wait for you louts to get us to the safe zone we heard about."

Kevin had to fight his urge to punch the arrogant man in the face, break an arm or two, but he was better than that and shrugged off the criticism. "The R.P.D. knows what they're doing."

Cindy stepped out of the van and brushed her blonde hair. It really needed a wash. Mark stepped out behind her, and she sighed. "How you holding up?" he asked.

Cindy placed her head in her cupped hands. "This day has been just awful. Just completely awful."

"I hear you. Those creatures of the night is a terrible omen in this city. I've never seen anything like this before, and I fought in 'Nam."

Cindy straightened her back and wiped her tired eyes. She rested her hand on her chest and tried to smile. She just couldn't, considering the recent chaos. "My fiancée said these zombies were citizens infected with a virus that leaked into the city. If we don't evacuate soon, the whole town will be full of these monsters."

"I figured as much."

Mark reached into the rear of the van and took hold of the shotgun inside. It was a 12 gauge Spas-12 shotgun. Pump-action. A box of ammo had plenty of cartridges. He placed his favourite handgun back in his holster and took a firm hold of the shotgun. Kevin stepped over by Cindy and Mark; he wasn't very amused.

"Unless you're staying, I suggest you follow me," Kevin said, "We're checking out Main Street."

Cindy nodded. "If you think that's best."

"Barricades are getting in the way of our transit. If there's no other way to Main Street, we'll come back and see what we can do."

The S.W.A.T. van was stopped by a small barricade. Beyond that, in the distance, the moans of the infected were heard wailing away. The road they were on led straight to Main Street, they joined. Though a short walk was to reach it first, just for the sake of observation.

After the three had passed the van, there was a small path of stairs between apartment complexes. Both were long since abandoned and vacant. The old remains of a residential area. The doors and windows were boarded up, and even if they weren't, there was no one inside. A path to the footbridge overseeing Main Street was in plain sight.

Main Street was behind mayor Michael Warren's hideous bust; they watched over the street with a picture-worthy view. The bridge wasn't far off the ground, but it was enough to fit the rows of vacant stores on either side of the street well into view.

That wasn't the worst part. They all instantly regretted taking a gaze because of a specific factor; the massive horde of zombies, only it was more of an army. Moreover, the amounts of infected were demoralising to the survivors...

Easily over a thousand strong in numbers, the zombie army was milling around aimlessly, spilling off the streets and onto the pavements. It was enough to strike fear in the steadiest of veterans. In unison, the fear was instant as they stood agape with little hope and enthusiasm to march on. The smell of raging fires and body odour tore at the sense of smell.

"Oh, God..." Kevin muttered, turning his eyes down.

"That smell… That's an odour I don't want to experience again," Mark murmured.

"No, no, it can't be. So many of them."

The sight was overwhelming, so full of stench and decay; all of that was enough to stun a horse. But, despite the strength in numbers, the horde hasn't yet claimed the city high street as their own. Some shuffled just under the bridge, and almost the entirety of the horde stayed back by a collapsed barricade.

Beyond that were raging fires, so powerful it burned the sky an unhealthy mix of orange and yellow. The sky was burning, and the air was smoking. A small crowd of zombies crawled over each other in a single small area. They were fighting over something.

There were the choices of fight or flight. Kevin knew three of his colleagues set up explosives at the barricade up front, though they were nowhere to be seen. So Cindy and Mark stayed near the stairs, and Kevin took a quick jog to the horde; until someone under the bridge stopped him.

"They're dead, Kev," the man said. He was a police officer, wearing plain glasses with short ginger hair. Kevin thought of him as a coward. Still an honest guy at that. He was hurt, holding in his gut and slouched under his weight. "They're all dead."

"Harry? You're not talking about-"

"Eric and Elliot?" Harry sighed. "Yes. They're both dead."

"They never set the explosives?"

"I saw the detonator next to Eric's body."

"Set up or not, the horde needs to go. Dorian can't get past the barricades, and even if he does, these freaks will tear him a new one." A lumbering zombie shuffled behind Kevin; it was dangerously close. Then Mark killed it with a quick blast to the head. Then, after a short cheer, it was all okay. After that, the other shufflers minded their own business. "If we try to get around them on foot, there's no telling if they'll follow us to the R.P.D."

"Captain Wesker ordered us to cull the horde. He asked for a convoy of reinforcements."

"Here?"

"Yes..."

"If they see the horde is still alive, they'll abandon us! One look at that shit, and they're gone."

"The explosives are your best bet, Kev. Otherwise, you'll have to get back to Dorian and take another route to the department."

"If I remember anything the sergeants said, it's a fact the convoy is important to their cause. We need reinforcements. Leaving everything the way it is now is not an option unless we make a call and tell them to turn around."

Cindy stepped over to Kevin and Harry with Mark behind her. He had his Beretta handgun handy in his big hand. "What's going on here?" Cindy asked.

"This street is our only way out of here."

A quick look at Main Street again was still as bad as it was from the bridge. The other way under the bridge was barricaded, and the only way forward was just suicide. They couldn't run away, though. Hellfire combusted and engulfed the street behind them ahead; it wasn't as bad, just looked worse. The four were safe under the bridge. Too far away for the zombies to step forward. Too stupid above all.

"I hate this job sometimes..." Kevin admitted.

"What are we going to do, Kevin?" Mark's palms were getting sweaty, and his trigger finger was itching up. It felt like Vietnam all over again.

Kevin drew out his .45 automatic from his hip holster and checked the loaded rounds. He had two left before he topped them up with single rounds back up to seven. "The horde needs to for us to get reinforcements and for you beautiful bastards to reach the R.P.D. Unless someone finds the detonator, we're fucked."

"Why?"

"An R.P.D. convoy is coming this way, and they expect this horde to be dealt with; otherwise, they'll leave us on our own. After that, we can get to the R.P.D."

"They wouldn't just leave, would they?"

"If we don't clear the zombies, they'll avoid the entire street and find another way around. Not only they'll miss us all and leave us to die, but they might also get into bigger trouble. We need to keep as many people alive as possible if we're gonna make it through this. The convoy is our only chance."

"Kill the zombies, survive and get to safety. Or fail and possibly die."

"The R.P.D. convoy will give us the manpower the sergeants need for their plans to work. The R.P.D. isn't too lucky, I'm afraid," Kevin admitted. "Everything fell on Eric and Elliot, and if we don't finish what they started, no one will."

"There wasn't many of us, to begin with," Harry added."

"How are we gonna do this then?" Cindy asked. She waved her arms, and no one made any wild suggestions. Kevin kicked the dirt under his boots.

"For a start, I'll head back to Dorian and try and get things moving," Harry said. "Can't really help much after they killed Eric and Elliot."

Kevin shrugged. "I can't ask everyone to help out-"

"You're not telling an old man to sit down and let you do this without him. Are you Kevin?"

"No, of course not, Mark."

"How are we doing this then?"

"I'm thinking we take up each side of the street, and one goes down the middle to reach the detonator," Kevin said, "That one should be Cindy."

"Me?"

"He's got a point. We can keep them at bay while you find the detonator," Mark added. "You're younger and fitter, so it'll be easier for you than Kevin and me. We have more combat experience too."

"Can you do that?" asked Kevin.

"I'd feel much better if we clear a path first."

Kevin shrugged. "Whatever works. Aim for the head if you can. Let's go."

"And don't let them bite you," Cindy added.

"That too."