Kevin's handgun roared, again and again. Zombies stumbled and fell, and he deftly reloaded. Then, he quickly darted to the right side of the road and made for the pavement there, firing .45 automatic with wicked accuracy.

The three zombies under the lamppost by the chain-link fence didn't even see their second death coming; they stumbled and fell too. He reloaded while Mark was already on the opposite side of the road next to an underground passage. The way to the subway was boarded up.

Mark already gunned down several zombies with some quick shells; the best part about shotguns was the power and spread. Any zombie that didn't get their flesh and bones shredded collapsed from the sheer force of the shotgun, allowing Mark to step the corpses. Any zombies that shown even a slither of life, Mark made sure to crush their heads into red slush, just to be safe.

A zombie shuffled its weight and charged at Cindy. She had Bob's handgun in her hands and took her aim for the zombie's face. The zombie was on fire, and the flesh was charred. She fired twice, and both rounds struck the zombie's chest; it stumbled but didn't go down. Instead, it slumped on her without any strength, her hands clasped around its throat.

She pushed with all her strength, keeping those snapping jaws away. She fired again. The round shattered her eardrums, but it pierced through the zombie's chin and exploded the roof of its head. Mark looked her way, and she met his eyes with hers. He smiled and nodded. She moved on closer to the middle of the road.

Everyone had their fight in their sections of the road; Cindy's top priority was the detonator in the middle; five zombies were hobbling around it. Unaware. Disturbed. Hungry. Three of them were burning up in flames; their charred skin was an unhealthy shade of dark purple. The other two didn't stand out that much, ragged, bloody clothes, expressionless faces and shuffling like ordinary zombies.

One of them was larger than the other four, larger than Mark. A charred zombie noticed Cindy above all else and hurried over to her, and she shot a round spiralling for its face. It hit the ground and tried to get back up, but the other zombies trampled over it; they weren't too bright.

One charred zombie got past Cindy and charged at Kevin. Cindy cursed and shot at the runner, two of the three shots missed, and the third clipped its shoulder. The zombie was off-balance as it made contact with Kevin, and he twisted his body towards the zombie, throwing it over his shoulder. He thoroughly executed the charred zombie then moved on to another zombie approaching behind him.

He threw pistol whips in the face, to no effect, then it pinned him against the chain-link fence. Cindy had three more zombies on her tail, including the larger one. The last charred zombie went for her first with the other two at its back and call.

The charred zombie took four rounds to the head and chest to bring it down; it was noticeably more resilient than the greyish zombies. The plain zombie that trampled over the charred one was a thin-boned female in rags; one shot to the forehead was enough for her. Then the big zombie rushed her.

It was as tall and wide as Mark, with plenty of strength to match. It wrapped its arms around her before she could fire. She was taken off her feet, and its sharp teeth were coming in fast on her right shoulder. She raised her arms sharply and loosened its hold on her, and dropped to the ground. It moaned something pitiful, and she wedged her shoulder into its gut, pushing her weight into it as hard as she could.

Despite the fat zombie having some weight behind it all, it still hobbled back a few steps. Cindy took out her handgun and fired her last few rounds. She struck the zombie's head and neck, but it wasn't enough to kill it; there was too much fat on those bones.

It was losing its balance, however, so she launched her empty handgun at it. With all her might, the handle struck the zombie's nose, and it fell, not dead, just sprawled over the cold floor. Cindy pulled out her .38 six-shooter, ready to finish the meatbag. Then it went bad.

A few steps behind the detonator was an uncommon lone zombie that stood out over the horde. The skin was a lush tone of crimson-red, the fingernails had claws, almost like talons. The eyes were an empty pasty white, and the body was quite toned compared to the average zombie. It was moving closer to Cindy, locked sights on her.

It cleared a path and swatted every zombie in the way; some were decapitated, others were slashed into ribbons from a single swipe; it had a temper. When it stepped behind the fat zombie, it decapitated it just as easily; the blood from the stump sprayed at Cindy. This red zombie wore a uniform from J's Bar, the name tag still being visible.

"Will…?" Cindy fired her revolver five times before it clicked empty. The .38 calibre rounds didn't even budge him, despite all landing on his chest.

Will swung his right claw at Cindy and missed, then his left one straight after; that one missed too. Her instinct to duck was somewhat extraordinary. Kevin called for her to duck again to give him a line of sight, then he gave her some support.

Two .45acp round whistled through the air and struck Will's head; he growled and almost tripped over his feet, though he was never disturbed. Kevin cursed and deftly reloaded his handgun. He had Will's undivided attention,

"Cindy, the detonator!" Kevin called. With a nod, she pushed herself off her feet and ran for the detonator. It was somewhere under a small pile of bodies, the ones that stood in Will's wake. Will moved on fast for Kevin and ran. "They run now…"

Will swung his left claw first, just missing Kevin's nose, then he swung his right claw, grazing across his armour plates. After almost taking off Kevin's head, Will grabbed him by the shoulders and went in for a bite.

Kevin's handgun bashed into Will's face and found his nose. His head rocked back, and his mouth hung open, and his grip on Kevin was lost. Then, with his full magazine, Kevin fired every round he had. Hard to see how many of the seven shots landed on their mark; with Will's constant twitching and jerking of his body, he staggered back and moved closer. Kevin was out of bullets quickly.

A right hook struck the barrel of Kevin's .45 auto and threw it across the ground; he unsheathed his combat knife from his belt, ready for the next swing. Will's predictable left swing missed and swiped the air over Kevin's stomach, an area that wasn't armoured.

Kevin slashed his knife across Will's face on the counterattack and gouged it deeper into his cheek on the recovery. Will appeared to lost his focus and left him reeling back further away. Kevin smiled and won the first round at the cost of dispensing all his ammo.
Will snarled and suddenly took off, sprinting in another direction, after Cindy. He ran after her. "Cindy, look out!" Kevin called.

Cindy was still looking, searching for the detonator that was hidden among a pile of fresh corpses. Up close, the stench could knock out a horse, but she had to find it, find the small metal thing that goes boom. Find boom box and go home. It was that simple. Then there was a loud grumbling and heavy footsteps. William was sprinting after her.

She started to panic and tried harder to shift the bodies on top of the detonator, but Will had already made contact. They both went careening over and under each other and stopped rolling when they came closer to the raging inferno. A thick wall of zombies was still held back from a small metal barricade. All was burning around them; the heat was immense.

Will held Cindy's hands to the floor and pinned her with his weight; he was stronger than usual. Drool seeped off his sharp fangs, and his growling sounded akin to a rabid animal. Will raised his claw and sat back to summon the extra strength to claw her face off. She covered her face and screamed.

Out of earshot, another bullet whistled over her head; a shot had struck Will's right shoulder. It threw some of his weight back and left him reeling. Then her arm retracted, and three quicker shots spiralled past her face, all struck Will's chest. The rapid succession rolled him off her.

Cindy smiled. "Zaac...?"

Zaac wore a black S.T.A.R.S. kevlar jacket and a pair of dark jeans. He tugged his shoulder and arranged his assault rifle's scope for a closer ranged approach. He fired rapidly at every zombie nearby. The two harassing Kevin to the right and the three pushing Mark back on the left. They were both pushing forward, although they were showing signs of slowing down.

Zaac's rifle was a dark police issue 7.62mm FN FAL, a semi-automatic one at that. Each round wielded so much power they tore the frail zombies apart, limbs were blasted off with accurate precision, and holes were made in their torso cavities. The rounds were large and heavy, alerting all the zombies in the vicinity to him, yet he never cared. Instead, they were torn apart one by one, tearing chunks of their shambling bodies.

With a quick breath of relief, Cindy felt serene enough to crawl back to the detonator. It was still hidden under some bodies. Will clutched her legs and pulled her closer to him, and snarled. His tattered clothes were smeared with his dark red blood, pieces of his flesh were punctured with holes. He was about to gnaw on her face, and she couldn't do anything about it.

Then she was about to scream, and Will's head was no more. She sent another mighty boot to his gut, and his limp body was thrown off her. Kevin stepped closer to her and the bodies beneath her with his .45 automatic smoking in his hand.

"That's two you owe me, Cindy." Kevin smiled. He kicked the detonator over to her.

"If we make it outta this, I'll make it a dozen." Cindy sprawled back up on her feet. Safe and sound.

The detonator was a twisty type of handle. After a five-second delay, a large fiery explosion was imminent. Zaac grouped Cindy, Mark and Kevin into the back of the main street before detonation. And when it did, there was a thundering explosion a mile down the road. Then another even closer. And another much closer.

A chain reaction of explosions filled the air with smoky napalm. It incinerated the air and consumed all the zombies in the vicinity. The ones too close were turned to ash, and the ones afar were charred a deep black. The buildings close by on the opposite sides of the road didn't stand a chance; they were destroyed.

Piles of rubble and burnt zombies were all that was left behind. The road ahead was shining a bright yellow from the burning fires. The first taste of this hellish nightmare had a sour aftertaste. Another bitter taste Zaac didn't relish at all.

He approached the burning fires the detonator left behind and gazed at the skies above. The smoke reached far and wide across the dead black sky; his shoulders felt heavy. He was distraught. Lights trekked under their feet, and a blue S.W.A.T. van pulled up beside them from under the bridge. It was Dorian's.

In the time just seven minutes past twelve in the morning, the R.P.D. started to flood Main Street, making sure all the dead bodies were dead with some added members for a clean-up crew. Dorian and Harry were there with the other two survivors that stayed behind. The cowards.

Mark boarded Dorian's van with the two men, and Cindy sat at the edge of the door, wrapped in a toasty blanket. She saw Kevin bringing Captain Wesker up to speed. He heard the bad news of losing several R.P.D. officers in the last few hours, and his head fell heavy into his hand. She heard through her fiancée that Zaac cared for his colleagues and fellow officers; it's what kept him going this far. Just more salt on the wound.

Thirty or so officers in light blue shirts walked by quickly and with barricades. Some were on their radios, and others were arming themselves for something big. She heard Johnson's Nation mentioned very often. They all addressed the situation to the fullest.

Cindy got to thinking about what happened in the closing of Main Street, then earlier that day. She started the day by cleaning tables and bottling up Jack's Bar for the day, and now it ended with the bar abandoned and her killing her closest friend that worked there.

It was supposed to be a good day, just working a slow evening with her friend. Then this all happened… She put her friend out of his misery twice and detonated a huge-ass bomb that wiped out one of the most popular roads in Raccoon.

No amount of rush hour would ever wash out the taste in Cindy's mouth. This Thursday was the worst night of her life with the horrible deaths, destruction, and constant horrors. Now all she wanted was to make sure her family was safe, most of them being out of town helped, apart from her fiancée. Josh needs a father, and she had to find him.

Zaac and Kevin stepped over to Cindy while she got comfortable in the blanket. Zaac had fresh blood and dirt over his face, and his auburn hair was messy. His black kevlar vest was fading from the wear. The name Cpt. Z. WESKER was on his nametag. Zaac never liked talking about his homicidal father much since the Mansion Incident, so he scrubbed out the A and placed a Z for Zachary. The mood wasn't great, unfortunately.

"Zaac..." Cindy finally said. She never smiled this time.

"Cindy… Kevin told me everything about what happened here." Zaac sighed. "Lost a lot of good men today. Sean, Ray, Elliott, Eric. It will never end."

Kevin glanced at Zaac. "What will happen now, Captain?"

"Dorian still has his job to do. He'll get you guys to the department. Right now, though, for me, it looks like it's gonna be a long day bringing people into safety." Zaac met Kevin's eyes." Might need to force people out of their homes. We need every survivor we can muster to safeguard a military evacuation."

"Will they do that?"

"They have to… Otherwise, it's back to plan B."

"The one where the sergeants split up?."

"Yeah..." Zaac looked away. "One way or another, I'll get these people out of the city or die trying." Cindy didn't like the sound of that. Sounded too true. "The department is big enough for a few thousand people, and the military can't ignore that. I have Sergeants Branagh and Parker securing the safe zone. Carlsen and I are doing everything we can to keep things under control on the streets in the meantime."

"Either way, it's good to see you, sir," Kevin said. He saluted quickly without drawing any attention. He had a lot of respect for S.T.A.R.S., on the account that he was a reject.

"I owe you a favour today, Kevin; you did a good job and got things done where others failed." Zaac paused, looking sad." I just wish Raymond was here; could use his help right now."

"He gave his life for me. Mark and Cindy too."
"He wanted us to go on," Cindy added. "If it wasn't-" Zaac waved his hand. She held her tongue.

Zaac sighed. "Kevin, you and Dorian take the van back to the department. Marvin could do with the extra muscle."

"Yes, sir."

"And clear that party crap from the west office. I don't think that Leon fellow is coming; the rookie's probably long gone by now." Zaac adjusted his focus on Cindy, and Kevin quickly went away. "Cindy, any word from Scott?"

"He'll arrive at the police department soon. I hope…"

"How's Josh?"

"He's safe."

"Good."

"How's Claire?"

"She's still away for the semester. It's strange. I haven't been able to call her in months now, almost a year since we saw each other. I hope everything's okay."

"Why wouldn't it?"

"We haven't spoken since last Christmas… I'm worried there might be someone else; she was always boy crazy back in college and I just haven't been around as much as I could be..."

Cindy waved her hands and scoffed childishly. "You worry too much."

"I guess I do." Zaac chuckled badly. "Been a bloody stress volcano since that damned mansion, and I just can't… I just can't stay frosty."

"I don't blame you. You have the whole city resting on your shoulders, you and every cop out here. You're all saints."

Zaac sighed. "I try… but that will be for the future to decide… Anyway, you guys take it easy; we'll figure a way out of this. You just rest easy and do what Marvin says."

"What's plan B?"

Zaac sighed. "I wouldn't normally say… but since you're my only sister… I'll tell you. Right now, the R.P.D. is split up into two groups: one group is evicting people from their homes, and the other is fortifying the police department. I'm hoping the military will take action and evacuate the survivors we've accumulated at the safe zone. But, if things should go wrong, the group evicting survivors will instead start purging the infected, and the people at the police department will focus on finding a safe transit out of the city limits."

"So drop defence in favour of offence?"

"Yeah."

"Does any of that involve Johnson's Bank?"

"Only because it's one of the easier areas to start. It might be one of the denser locations, but it will be a good opportunity to bottleneck the infected and enforce our tactics and positions. It's why I asked for this convoy in the first place."

"Hopefully, it shouldn't come to that."

"Here's hoping." Zaac scratched his hand. "It's the last resort. The military should be contacting me soon, so it's up to them. Stay safe, Cindy. If you find Scott tell him... I'm sorry; he'll understand." He strayed off and walked away in the opposite direction. He was throwing his arms about and barking orders.

Kevin came back alone. Sweating a little down his cheeks. "Quite chummy with the captain there, aren't you?"

"He's my future brother-in-law."

"Damn. Who's sleeping with who?"

"Not one to mind your business, are you Kev?"

"Asking out of curiosity."

"Me and his sister…"

"For reals?"

Mark reared his head into view with a modest smile from the back of Dorian's van. "Come again?"

Cindy burst out into laughter. "I kid. I kid. Brother, I'm marrying his brother."

"I was gonna say. Fucking hell." Kevin got into the van and closed the rear

"If I'm sleeping with anything tonight, it's in the closest bed I find; I'm freaking tired." Cindy yawned. She freed her dirty blonde hair; ponytails were overrated. She stayed sitting on the floor, fighting to stay awake.

Dorian's blue van roared to life and deftly sped up down the street. The other side, crushing the zombie corpses underneath. Towards the department, the buildings on both sides were all destroyed, much like the the zombies in the way. The department wasn't far. Just over a few minutes drive, less than a kilometre up on Ennerdale Street.

They were outside another pub; this one was owned by a ruthless chain that tried to buy Jack's Bar. It was Greene something. Like J's Bar, it saw better days and was void of all life. Fresh bodies were seen outside. Yeah, the same problem J's had.

Dorian made a quick call on the R.P.D. radio to open the front gates of the precinct. They made a complete loop around the department and found no other way inside; the rear was boarded up and apparently was an escape route, and the gate still had someone standing by. There were no zombies in eyesight; then again, it was so dark nothing was in sight.

The blue van backed into the front gate and let everybody out; Dorian stayed where he was and drove off. Didn't even stay for a thank you, he just went back the way he came. Inside the bronze gates, the brown walls of the department stood proudly in the light drizzle of rain. Plenty of officers in various uniforms and divisions were seen keeping everyone calm and warm.

Most survivors were sleeping on the floors in their clothes; some had blankets. The officers were still awake and walked about; they offered Cindy, Mark and the other two men a blanket and walked them to the lobby to the east, then through the empty east office. The officers used this room as a base of operations as the west side was for a party of

some sort, and there was no time to clean it. Kevin wasn't present.
A balding officer in his thirties walked the four further away and into a hall and down underground. Towards the underground garage. The R.P.D. needed to make room for at least a few thousand people. The officer left them in the dank underground parking garage.

Most of the parking space was parked with R.P.D. cruisers and SWAT vans; all weren't functional. Blood splatters coated most of them, inside and out. Cindy sat in the only corner in the far back where it wasn't dripping wet and wrapped herself in the same blanket she held onto. Mark wandered off on his accord; he had things on his mind, she could tell. The other two guys were gone; no one heard them leave. Probably going to complain somewhere else.

Only the faintest drips were dropping from the cracks in the ceiling could be heard over the cold wind. Cindy was warm, and Mark was a burly man. The cold didn't bother them anyway. They were safe now.

CINDY LENNOX (MONOLOGUE)
Who could ever imagine such a catastrophe like this would happen in this day and age? With all the tragedies, death and mayhem surrounding us, I felt insignificant… but it's different now; I can see everything clearer. I shouldn't be dealing with these problems; I'm just not ready for those sorts of things. Ready or not, though, it's happening… the world is finally showing its true colours. Greedy corporations, bad men in suits and corruption. The types of evil that control everything. I will do everything I can to survive, I'm scared, but I need to keep going. What else can I do? In the end, people like me have things worth fighting for. Me? I'm fighting for family.

KEVIN RYMAN (MONOLOGUE)
Everything went to hell real bad in every way possible, been like that for as long as I can remember. Things have been going wrong for a while now; no one realised that until now. Dead people wander the city streets in search of the living. When that becomes normal and a part of our way of life, we'll all know it's time just to give up. There's no other choice. The police academy didn't train me for this hellish nightmare I just witnessed, and I fear that could be the new norm.

MARK WILKINS (MONOLOGUE)
This was just a horrible situation from the very start. I've seen plenty of combat in my service years, and this was one scenario I could've done without. In the thick of battle, murder and chaos was always a constant threat of any battlefield. The old saying goes, "War doesn't determine who is right, only who is left." That was something that stayed true throughout the years. Fight to win. That's all I can think of now, and back when I was a younger man. I just hope that the day I die, it will be to live, not survive.

CAPTAIN ZACHARY WESKER (MONOLOGUE)
I was put on this planet for one thing, to protect and serve. I didn't ask for this. I want it to be over, but some people are still counting on me. There are still survivors out here, survivors that need protecting. And Claire… I miss Claire. The Mansion Incident made me realise the true power of these big corporations and the lengths they'll go to to make a profit. Raccoon City needed a hero, and I thought I could be that hero, but those dreams died when I had to take this accursed role of captain. That's when the nightmares began. Truthfully, I don't know what I'm doing anymore.

All I want is to have my mother brush my hair and tell me how everything will be okay, to hear her voice again, to memorise each word. I never saw many people die when I was a rookie, but ever since the dead started to walk, well, I'm losing the enthusiasm to keep fighting. The only thing that's keeping me going is the opportunity to make Umbrella pay for what happened to my city. Even if it takes the next eight years, I will have my revenge.