When the Man Comes Around: Survive? Yeah, we survived the apparent end of the world. But, there's a lot more to surviving than just staying alive. When the world tries to take a bite out of you, sometimes you have to fight back. And you have to fight back with everything you have.
Disclaimer: I do not claim to have any ownership to any of the characters that may be recognized throughout this story. Several characters from the Resident Evil Universe are portrayed in this story, but they are in no way the main characters. However, the storyline does borrow from concepts presented in the Capcom creations, so please do not sue me! In addition, Kurt Morgan is a creation of a good friend of mine; I'm merely borrowing him.
Rating: This story is rated M+ for Mature Audiences only. Adult content including coarse language and a great deal of violence and gore. Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with zombie-related things!
"Lies require commitment." - Veronica Roth, Divergent
Chapter Three
(Natalie)
"You sure you don't want me to come on in with you?" Fred offered for the eighth or ninth time. Ranger sent him a scathing glance and the man literally winced in response. "Right. Stay in the truck and keep quiet. Sounds easy enough."
Ranger slid out of the pick-up first, his back to me as I slid across the seat and clambered out behind him. As if sensing that I was behind him, he ambled away, his gait fast and steady. I gently shut the door and offered Fred a two-fingered salute before hurrying along after Ranger.
I wasn't too surprised by the fact that the Merchant had taken up residence in what could only be called a dump. It might have been a prime location thirty years ago, but the bars on the windows and doors gave me the impression that the previous owner's economical status had slid into the garbage long ago. Hell, maybe the Merchant was the original proprietor - which would only mean that he'd probably have jacked the prices even higher.
When Ranger paused at the large fire door, I grabbed the Beretta holstered at the small of my back and held it in my right hand. He nodded once as he tapped on the door three times. I heard movement behind the door, but I was still taken by surprise when it swung outward and revealed a heavyset man in his late thirties with a bushy beard and a balding head.
"Nice. Brought some nice goods." He leered at me, a sawed-off in his right hand. The flannel shirt he wore was stretched over his stomach, straining over the man's impressive girth. I shuddered at the sight of him, but managed to lift a brow in defiance - I'd faced worse things. Probably. "Well, come on up before we attract any attention."
The fire door shut behind us and a lock slid into place automatically. The fat guy led the way up the steps, Ranger behind him, and me pulling up the rear. The place smelled like cigarette smoke and canned meat, but at least Ranger's firm behind gave me something to look at on the trip up. When we emerged, I was surprised to find that we were standing in what almost looked like a pub. The fat guy shut another fire door behind me, sliding several locks into place, before he ambled over to the bar and dropped his sawed off.
"So, you're Ranger, eh?" He lifted a bushy brow in Ranger's direction as he walked around the length of the bar, grabbing a bottle at random and pouring two fingers worth of brown liquid into two shot glasses. He shoved one toward Ranger, who wasted no time in downing it. "And who might you be?" The question was directed towards me, but I didn't bother with a reply.
"You have what we were talking about?" Ranger prompted, causing the man to nearly choke on his drink. Ranger got that reaction a lot when he spoke. There was something equally terrifying and transfixing about the man's voice, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it. "Greeds?"
I snorted as I thumbed the safety and holstered my weapon, ambling up next to Ranger to stare at Greeds in amusement. But, I knew better than to talk. Most Merchants survived because they were untrusting of strangers - which meant they often turned on people faster than milk bothered to sour.
"Right this way," Greeds grumbled as he stalked out from behind the bar.
I followed along behind the two, edging my way around the few tables that had been pushed against a far wall and eying the billiards table in appreciation. Once, long ago, I would have enjoyed a nice game of pool. Instead, I was stuck looking at the back of a rather hefty individual that apparently didn't know what personal hygiene was. When he unlocked a large and ancient looking wooden door, I wasn't sure what to expect.
The door slid open and I managed to stifle a gasp. It was a walk-in freezer. Shelves lined the freezer, all filled to the brim with supplies. As Ranger and Greeds stopped to chat, I slipped past them and walked around the large freezer in speculation, eyes dancing over the items greedily. Greeds slapped my fingerless gloved hands away when I brushed my fingers against a side of beef.
"No touching the goods!" he barked, practically growling at me as he pulled back his hand. Ranger cleared his throat and the man paled, clearly reconsidering knocking me around. "I mean - don't touch anything. Please."
I shrugged as he and Ranger continued to discuss details, leaving me to look around. I slipped out of the freezer and eyed the wooden doors on either side of the corridor, glancing over my shoulder once before pushing the one on the left open. My eyes widened in surprise as my stomach clenched - weapons. Nothing but weapons of every make and style. And ammo.
"Holy shee-it." Fascinated, I eyed the pump-action shotguns displayed on the wall, eyes dancing over the rifles that were hanging delicately. It was like a showroom, nothing was out of place. Ammo was in labeled crates and several explosive devices, including three or four strings of grenades, were sitting out on shelves. Simply put, it was staggering. "Fucking A! Look at this baby," I purred as I ran my fingers over the length of what I knew to be a rocket launcher. "Where the hell did that fat fuck Greeds get this?"
"Hey!" I jerked around and glared at Greeds, who had just appeared in the open doorway. "This ain't a window shoppin' excursion, lady!" I ambled out of the room, sliding under his beefy hands as he reached out to grab me. Fury was written across his features when I met his gaze levelly, half-hoping he'd try it again so that I'd have a good enough reason to sock him one. "I ain't gotta deal with this shit. I deserve some fucking respect!"
Ranger was behind the man suddenly, a 9mm pointed at the man's neck from behind. His black eyes met mine and I swallowed, wondering how he could make me gooey down under and terrified at the same time. "I'd hate to have to cancel our previous deal, Greeds. Now, take your hand off of the gun at your hip and back away from her."
The fat man complied, lips curled into a sneer. When Ranger retracted his gun, the man turned on his heel and stalked into the freezer. "I'll handle the food, asshole. There are duffel bags in the gun room. Load up your shit."
I watched, bemused, as Ranger swung into the so-called gun room and snatched up three large duffel bags. Wordlessly, he quickly and methodically filled each bag with a wide variety of items. Three rifles and a shotgun went into one bag, along with three handguns and what appeared to be a taser. Ammo and cleaning supplies, along with several harnesses, went into the second bag. To my surprise, Ranger smacked his palm against what I'd assumed was a solid wall - revealing black gear; kevlar vests and riot gear. He folded several vests of different sizes into the bag, as well as what appeared to be arm and shin guards and, finally, several pairs of handcuffs.
When he met my gaze, I froze in place. There was something both off putting and intriguing about Ranger that I couldn't identify; something that made me want to throw myself at him and hide in a dark hole at the same time. After a moment, he gathered up the bags, seemingly not bothered by the weight, and walked toward me.
"Taking these down to the truck and making a quick check of the perimeter. Watch Greeds." His eyes lingered on my face for a moment before I stepped to the side and he slipped past me.
My fingers danced over the two-way radio strapped to my belt and I glanced down, ensuring that the red light was on and that it was tuned to the right channel. If there were any problems, I'd hear about them right away.
The knowledge didn't make me feel any better, but it gave me the extra boost to wander over to the freezer, where Greeds was shoving items into multiple crates. I eased into the freezer warily, eyes narrowed as I focused on the man's back. I wasn't privy to the details of the exchange, but clearly there had been a hefty one based on the amount of goods alone.
"I don't like people watching over my back." He glanced over his shoulder and glared at me, beady eyes narrowing. "Fuck off, lady."
"Fuck you, asshole." I lifted my chin, daring him to try something. There was something about the man that irked me, and I was just itching to drill my knee between his legs just for the hell of it. "What's in the other room?"
"Nothing," he replied quickly, a little too quickly. He turned on his heel and nearly knocked over several already-packed crates, bellowing in anger. "See what you made me do? Fucking bitch."
Rolling my eyes, I watched as he waddled around the crates before stacking them up. I noticed several frozen packages of meat and my mouth watered - it had been weeks since we'd had real meat. A little bored and more than a little annoyed, I backed out of the freezer and eyed the closed door thoughtfully. I hazarded a glance toward the freezer and smirked at the sight of the man still packing items into crates.
I tested the door warily, smirking when it slid open easily. It was dark, unlike the gun room. I grabbed the pen light from my hip and flicked it on, swinging it around the room. My mouth went dry and my stomach clenched when I caught sight of the computer monitors on a desk in the corner, along with what looked like some sort of satellite dish. The monitors were all dark, but the two computer towers' lights blinked in unison - either they were simply on for the hell of it, or they worked.
Which was just plain odd. Sure, there were still random scatters of electricity throughout the known US, but it wasn't like someone, especially a Merchant, to risk drawing unwanted attention by using up such large amount of electricity. I nudged the door the rest of the way open and gasped at the sight of a prone figure cuffed to the rails of a bed.
I stepped into the room shakily, swallowing back another gasp as I flicked my light over the form. It took me a moment to realize it was a woman dressed in a white dress - as she was covered up to her waist in a disheveled blanket. Her eyes were closed and I realized, after a moment's observation, that there were bruises on her cheeks and her wrists were raw around the cuffs.
"Holy shee-it." I swallowed hard as I took another step closer, nearly jumping out of my skin when her eyes flickered open. She stared up at me for a beat before her eyes closed again; it took watching her chest for me to decide that she was indeed still breathing. "What the fuck?"
For such a large man, Greeds moved a lot more quietly than I would have given him credit for. I didn't even know he was there until he tackled me from behind, throwing me to the floor roughly. The breath wheezed out of me as the flashlight slipped from my fingertips. Before I could even manage to buck backwards, he grabbed me by my hair and slammed my forehead against the hard floor.
The last conscious thought I had was how fucking good it would feel to drill the man between the legs with my steel-toe boot.