Sorry for the long wait…the chapter isn't exactly short but it isn't the longest either. I will, however promise to post a bit quicker from now on…
There's a brief visit to the past that I put in line breaks toward the middle. Hope it's not confusing.
After a half hour of winding through familiar city streets, David was beginning to think that he had finally gone crazy.
No one graced these hollow roads save for one man on a single-minded mission. That person was currently cursing inward, declaring himself an idiot for having drove right into the one place he never wanted to be caught dead, alive, or otherwise.
Through his search, David had not so much as cracked a window for fear of the stench of amassed bodies decomposing along the street.
Two years did not mean bodies stopped smelling any worse. Especially zombified ones.
David was past the point of creepy crawlies, heebie jeebies and all that shit. This was freaky. And disgusting.
It was amazing how little the city had changed. According to the news, the nation had declared Umbrella Incorporation 'a threat to civilization as we know it' and launched a nationwide assault on all divisions of the company. Raccoon City was indeed a calamity, but one that was easily forgotten amongst corporate and military issues.
For all intents and purposes, Raccoon City was left to rot, doomed as a time capsule of decay and failure; a sore spot on the Earth's surface.
All that the city had done in the past two years is decompose, nature trying in vain to erase the sinister past of man's corrupt ways.
David was not one to philosophize on the past, but in one brief flicker, he felt a pang of compassion for the run down city; they had both suffered tremendously from the same fate.
However he had survived, where the town had only become more dilapidated.
Only a handful of men and women were able to escape, a ragtag group of individuals determined to alter their doomed fate within the confinements of Raccoon City. They had only narrowly avoided the town's swansong as the president had approved a nuclear strike, several air to surface projectiles slamming into every square inch, hoping to decimate the zombie hordes threatening to pour out to neighboring communities. Panic and fear were constant companions in that time.
Two years wasn't long enough to forget.
David never kept tabs with any of the companions that he lived – and almost died – with. It was too much, the reminder of his imminent demise a constant burden on his consciousness; those people a testament to his near death experience.
Without Kevin, he would have died.
David's thoughts froze as he caught a glimpse of a familiar motorcycle hidden down a small alley. Brakes screeched as he threw it in reverse, determined to confirm – he hoped that he wasn't seeing things.
He finally withdrew from his car, confident that the bike nestled in the small space looked too new to be an abandoned relic. Upon further inspection, the engine was still warm.
"Hm." He mouthed out loud. Kevin was definitely here.
Not much appreciating the forced trip down memory lane, he focused his thoughts on tracking Kevin; he would say what he need to get off his chest and get the hell out of here. Simple.
One of the doors in the alley looked as though it had recently been serviced. After surveying the streets for the last hour, David was certain where this door lead: It was the passage through which the police department could be accessed.
It was with an uncomfortable nostalgia that his thoughts returned to why this place held importance. David had met Kevin for the first time.
Kevin had almost put a bullet in between his eyes then.
David had been working at the water treatment plant doing routine service. It was a normal on-site procedure, until the facility shut down unexpectedly. Looking back, the military already were putting their strike into action, and cutting off water supply lines was first priority. At the time, he didn't know what was happening.
Then the freaks started showing up. They were climbing out of the fucking pipes, sewer grates…anything that could be traversed.
Narrowly escaping through the adjoining alley by hacking remote security panels of the facility, he grasped the iron framed door in an attempt to access the police department. Surely there would be adequate protection with the men in blue…at least weapons.
As he ran through the hall lined with pipes and concrete in past as well as present, he couldn't help but feel the same tension that beat in his chest. Reaching the end of the tunnel, he whipped the portal open and dealt face to face with the past…
A jagged click sounded, and a hot piece of metal jammed onto the bridge of his nose. He smelled gunpowder and burning flesh, the itchy feeling of kinetic energy in the air as the pressure on his forehead brought his run to an indefinite halt. His head threw back, catching the solid object resting against his brow. The smell of machine oil filled his nostrils.
The burn caused him to flinch, the click caused his eyes to close in response. For a moment he held his breath, hoping to whatever god may be listening that he was not an enemy to someone with enough sense to pull a trigger.
He only hoped that man could tell the difference.
He felt his heart skip, his breath hitched in his throat. This is it…
A moment passed, but he remained standing.
"You're human, …right? A husky voice inquired.
"Yeah." he breathed, eyes flashing open again. The gun stubbornly stayed, only offering David a partial view of his would be shooter. A man with wild brown hair and sparkling blue eyes looked back.
Seconds ticked between them in that first moment. So much exchanged, but nothing said.
"I guess that means you are too." David raised his hands, revealing only a wrench and his pocketknife, the gesture in hopes to lessen the tension between them.
"Yeah." David seen the arm twitch, then drop sharply. He could till feel the burn of the pistol against his forehead.
"The question is, what the fuck happened to everybody else?" Obviously the man was as distressed about the turn of events as David was. A hand ran through the messy auburn hair, though in no attempt to straighten it.
"I don't know." Looking carefully at the gun wielder, he noticed the RPD insignia blazoned on his jacket. "Hey, are you a cop?"
David shook from his mental vision and focused on the present day environment. Everything is as it was; the notion did not surprise him, though he almost wished something was different. Maybe a drastic change in the scenery would save him from the barrage of the past, thoughts of Kevin drifting too close to his heart for comfort.
He needed to find that asshole and give him a piece of his mind.
Revisiting the small alcove, he felt innate senses return to him, as though they had been in slumber since leaving Raccoon City. Heightened awareness coupled his eyes and ears, both straining in the murky depths of tunnel for more clues as to what had transpired recently. Slowly, gradually – his mind tuned into the mundane muddy scenery and processed what he could discern from the environment.
Faint scuffle marks indicated that this passageway had been used fairly often, gashes in the stone fresh and light in comparison to the dusty corners of the chamber.
Reflexively, the switchblade was in his hand. He didn't realize when it had happened, only noticed the solid weight in his palm as he turned it over with his fingers, evenly distributing the length over the calloused pad.
It was a bit ludicrous to assume that anything dangerous existed in this town anymore once he thought about it. It was bombarded with nuclear bombs for Christ's sake; nothing would be alive here. He'd be lucky if he walked out of here with just a slight case of radiation poisoning.
The hair on the back of his neck prickled at the sound of something at the end of the long corridor. Voices?
His imagination took off at the faint noises, visions of zombies crowding his mind causing a panic that spread like wildfire in his senses. He strained to listen, but the hall had become silent, denying him further insight as to what awaited. Suppressing the anxiety of being confronted with a fear he had tried to forget for two years, he crept forward towards the metal door at the end of the passage. The entrance was slightly opened, a small flickering light dancing along the tattered floor. A creaking sound echoed in his ears, causing him to involuntarily grip his knife a little tighter.
Slowly, he edged toward the door and listened. Silence again.
Throwing caution to the wind, he took a breath and steeled himself for what could be waiting. The element of surprise with him, he grabbed the frame and deftly threw open the door.