Chapter 32: Casualties
October 3, 1998
3:15 AM
Arklay Mountain Research Station
Shank let out a low, impressed whistle next to Zeke as they climbed over the rubble covering the entrance into the mountainside. "These are some sweet digs they've got here." The big man said, taking a look around.
The chamber the group entered was high-vaulted and filled with stale, cool air. Pristine white tiles covered the floor and walls, reflecting the otherwise mild lighting into an eerie, sterile glow that was harsh on the eyes. Painted across the tiles in the middle of the floor was a glossy red and white shield – the Umbrella Incorporated insignia. A short flight of steps led down to a bank of elevators set with electronic scanners of some sort. Only a few feet away from the lifts lay the bodies of two men in what Zeke surmised to be security guard uniforms, each displaying enough holes to make a brick of Swiss cheese envious.
Cautiously, Zeke moved down the steps and turned one of the rent-a-cops over with the toe of his boot. He recoiled instantly, clapping a hand over his nose to block the smell even as he gagged. Whoever the guard had been was dead long before he had been turned into a human sieve. The man's ashen, leathery skin and soulless white eyes plainly labeled him as a carrier of the T-virus.
"The handiwork of our friends in black?" Pierce asked nodding to the two carcasses and making everyone jump. The sharpshooter spoke so seldom it seemed he was practically invisible sometimes.
"It looks that way." Zeke said. "This is bad. If these two were infected then that means the virus was able to get in here too and I doubt Fort Leavenworth is as secure as this place."
"You can say that again." Cooper mumbled, taking an awed look around.
"Trust a bunch of rich, old white geezers to come up with something as elaborate as this." Eddie snorted, checking the pistol he had taken off one of the B.O.N.E.S. soldiers outside. "A secret mountain base – if you ask me you white folks all watch way too many James Bond movies. I wonder how many of these hidey-holes the Umbrella brass have scattered throughout the city."
"Try throughout the world, man." Skip said, tucking a black-finished Colt 1911 into the waistband of his pants. "Umbrella has offices in every corner of the planet. They could have hundreds of spots set up like this."
The kid made a good point, Zeke thought, and a rather scary one. Umbrella Incorporated was the single most powerful country, not only in America but the entire world. How many more areas like the AMRS did they have concealed in mountaintops or below the surface of the earth? Just how much T-virus did they have stockpiled in cities around the globe waiting to go off like a time bomb and unleash man's every impossible fear in the passage of a few hours? Umbrella was playing with a kind of fire that would burn many more than just them selves if someone dropped the match.
"I've got something here, lieutenant." Wesley said pointing to a map in a glass case hanging beside one of the elevators. Using the butt of his rifle to break away the glass, Wes removed the map and scanner its surface with one finger. "Helipad…Cafeteria…Water Treatment Center…Archives…Administration…Storage…Underground Trolley Platform…there's a lot of sights to see in this merry place, Zeke."
"We only need to see one though, right?" Eddie asked. "The helipad. We jump on a bird and fly the coup, right?"
"No," Zeke shook his head, taking the map from Wesley and giving it a quick study before turning to face the others. "Umbrella has too much blood on its hands for us to just ignore it and walk away. Burke said all on-going projects by Umbrella scientists had to be sent here for review so my bet is that if we make a trip up to the fourth floor archives we'll be able to find something that ties the Tyrant Virus and Umbrella together. With concrete proof like that we'll be able to cut the snake's head off before he ever gets the chance to bite again."
"Won't they have just deleted all their files and shredded all the papers once they saw the spill was out of control?" Cooper asked.
Zeke shook his head. "My guess is that if the virus was able to penetrate this far – " he pointed to the deceased security guards with an AK-47 he had lifted from a dispatched B.O.N.E.S. trooper " – then the staff here probably got zombified before they could destroy all the records."
"What an ironic way to go." Eddie commented gruffly. "Cut down by the sword they forged themselves."
"That's a little poetic for a rookie cop don't you think?" Shank said, raising an eyebrow.
"I was an English literature minor." Eddie shrugged and the big man laughed.
"We're going to have to get past these things if we want to go anywhere though." Zeke tapped one of the electronic monitors set into the wall beside the elevators. "Tech," he turned to face the rat-faced Psycho, "can you get these gizmos turned off?"
"If Margaret Thatcher was an ice-bitch I can." Tech grinned.
"I'm not to up-to-date on my British political history," Zeke admitted, "Wes?"
"She was." The Brit smiled.
Zeke nodded. "Get to work, Tech."
Even though he was forced to work with the disadvantage of only one arm Tech was nevertheless exceedingly efficient. The weasel-faced biker yanked a handful of wires straight out of the bottom of the panel then, with teeth and fingers, set to cutting and crossing the different colored strands together. Within moments the red light above the elevator doors flashed green and the whir of machinery filled the hall.
"Child's play." Tech said with a self-satisfied grin when he had finished.
Seconds later the elevator arrived and the survivors climbed in while Zeke pressed the button for the fourth floor. As the lift began its journey steadily upwards the lieutenant found himself starring at Wesley and a sudden surge of embarrassment swept through him. If it had not been for Wes he would have still been out on the mountainside crying like a little girl over things he could not alter and waiting for the end. At least now he was doing something meaningful: trying to bring his friends' murderers to justice and prevent another disaster like the outbreak that had befallen Raccoon from ever happening again. Giving up was always the easiest path to choose but never the wisest.
"I just wanted to say thanks." Zeke said quietly, leaning over to whisper to Wesley. "I'm not sure what I'd do if I didn't have you around to give me the occasional kick in the head."
"No worries, Zeke." Wesley grinned. "You might not be the most brilliant chap ever but you've still got a brain in your skull which is more than I can say for mo – "
Blackness poured into the elevator as the lights cut out and the brakes screeched to a halt. Lurching to a gradual stop the lift shook the men about like peas in a pod, throwing them all unceremoniously to the floor. Groaning, Zeke pulled himself back to his feet none too thrilled at the idea that he now had a few new bruises to add to his growing collection. A second later pale red light flooded the elevator as the emergency lights switched on.
"That sucked." Shank grumbled, climbing back up while Tech unleashed a string of particularly volatile curses at his side.
"Maybe our Umbrella pals know we're coming after all." Coop suggested, giving Eddie and Skip a hand up while Pierce hauled Wesley back to his feet.
"I don't think so." Zeke answered, starring up at the glowing crimson bulbs set into either corner of the elevator ceiling. "Those are emergency flood lights. I think this place just finally ran out of power – the entire grid in Raccoon must be down by now then. This place is probably running on back-up juice now."
"Where did we stop?" Pierce asked, rubbing one shoulder.
"Third floor," Zeke replied, looking at the digital display set above the doors, "the water treatment area. I saw on the map that there's an emergency staircase leading up to the next floor at the far end of this level. Coop, Shank, get these doors open. We're going to have to walk it from here. Stay sharp."
"Feels like we've been through this movie before, eh?" Shank said, pressing his fingers into the groove between the elevator doors on one side while Cooper did the same on the other end.
"Amen brother." Coop grunted.
Eyes shut, faces tight with exertion, the two burly men flexed their massive arms and pried the doors apart with a squeal of resistant metal. Once again, darkness flooded the shaft, punctuated here and there by the blink of multi-hued lights and the buzz of machinery powered by the AMRS' generators. Zeke's nostrils twitched as they detected the heavy scents of leaking motor oil, mildew and stagnant water. From somewhere up ahead steam hissed angrily from a pipe, forming a dense mist across the ground at about knee level.
"Follow me and stay together." Zeke said. "Flashlights."
Just as they had done in the parking garage of Skip's apartment building the Rangers fastened flashlights to their weapons and moved out of the elevator forming a protective line. The beams knifed wide swathes through the veil of blackness, shedding illumination on a concrete floor covered in a thin blanket of greenish water and walls crawling with vines of brown scum. Thick pipes snaked overhead, many cracked and spewing jets of steam. The flashlights passed across a vast array of strange machines: mostly towering gray monstrosities, rectangular and set with all manner of flickering lights, buttons, dials and displays that might have meant something to an engineer but were utterly lost on the Ranger lieutenant. Boots squeaking and face sweating, Zeke led the way onward, doing his best to keep his exhausted body alert. Finally they rounded a corner, moved down a corridor and came to the bridge he had been looking for.
"Woah," Shank said at his ear as they all came to a stop, "slap my face and call me Nancy."
The area had been depicted as being large on the map but that drawing had hardly done it any real justice. The band of survivors stood in the very heart of the AMRS water treatment center, a gaping void of space at least two hundred feet high and two hundred feet deep. Like the rest of the facility the water treatment plant had been drilled directly into the mountain itself and jagged stone walls surrounded a narrow steel mesh catwalk, about a hundred feet across, that lead to a shut blast door on the opposite end marked with the Umbrella seal and the label FOURTH FLOOR EMERGENCY EXIT. Above was an impenetrable canopy of darkness but below the Rangers lights bounced back off the surface of rippling blue water. The wind howled like a lost soul through the high-ceilinged cavern and Zeke could see Skip shiver.
"Water level looks a little low today." Cooper observed absently, shining his light down into the gaping abyss below. "Maybe those gadgets we passed by haven't been doing anything but making noise for a few days."
"God," Zeke breathed, looking around, overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of the place, "they must have been pumping their water directly out of the mountain streams and filtering it on sight. This one section alone must cost a fortune."
"Funny how a corporation would rather spend millions building a secret mountain hideout than feed the poor isn't it?" Eddie observed with a sardonic chuckle, glancing over the catwalk's edge before promptly pulling away with his eyes clamped tight.
"Lieutenant." Pierce said tensely, pointing halfway down the catwalk to where his light had fallen across a dark shape.
It was the body of a man. The corpse was decked out in a black flak vest, fatigues and combat boots. In one limp hand the grip of an MP5 submachine gun was held. Whoever he had been, the figure was now a head shorter.
"Fuck." Skip cursed, quickly lowering his eyes.
"You said it, kid." Coop said sounding ill.
"One of our buddies in black?" Wesley suggested and Zeke was aware of the tension in his friend's voice.
"I don't think so. I didn't see any of them carrying one of these." Zeke scooped up the MP5, checked it over then tossed the weapon to Eddie. "Ever handle one of those before, Ed?"
"No," the rookie replied, looking the submachine gun over before thumbing off the safety and pulling the bolt back, "but after tonight I think my learning curve has improved dramatically."
"Any theories on what happened to this lucky camper?" Shank nodded to the corpse.
"I've got a few ideas," Zeke said gravely, "but none of them are all that uplifting. Let's just get out of here."
The group hurried across the walkway, the sounds of their footfalls echoing off into eternity. The blast door consisted of several inches of solid steel with red siren lights blazing overhead painting the room in a blood red glow. A card reader panel like the ones on the elevators flashed the message ACCESS DENIED in bold red type over and over.
"Shit." Tech cursed. "When the power went down it must have shorted this piece of crap out." He flicked the screen with one finger in irritation.
"Can you get it open?" Zeke asked over his shoulder, watching the other end of the catwalk.
"It'll take time." The weasel-faced Psycho replied.
"I suggest you hurry then."
"Right." Tech dropped onto his back beneath the console and began pulling out wires.
"Do you hear that?" Wesley asked, scanning the darkness above with his weapon.
Heart pumping, Zeke strained his ears and then he heard something as well. It was a harsh, irregular hissing similar to that the steam made when it burst from the pipes except that this noise had been absent only moments earlier. And there aren't any pipes in this section. Zeke tightened his hold on the AK as the sound repeated itself. Plus it sounds like it's coming from beneath us.
A wet slap against the side of the railing froze all hearts and drew all eyes. The group turned to see that what appeared to be a thick, purple tentacle had coiled around one end of the catwalk with enough strength to dent the metal. Then the slimy organ tightened and a dark shape threw itself into the air, coming to land perched on the edge of the rail.
Zeke and the others stumbled back as they're lights revealed the shadowy intruder to them. It was one of the Scuttlers from Skip's garage, Zeke saw, only taller, more muscular and the sinew of its body was a charcoal black instead of a bloody crimson. Eight-inch talons grew from four paws, cutting scratches in the railing. What Zeke had first though of as a long purple tentacle was, in fact, the creatures tongue and lolled lazily all the way to the floor of the catwalk.
Zeke's eyes locked with the empty sockets of the mutant's head and he didn't hesitate. A stream of seven rounds ripped through the shrieking Scuttler's chest and sent it reeling away into the dark pit from whence it came. Then, all hell really broke loose.
Six more powerful tongues latched onto either side of the walkway and, a moment later, half a dozen dark, sinewy shapes covered the narrow walkway – some perched on the railing while others lay flat on the steel mesh poised to strike. Cooper took care of the creatures along the railing, the chatter of the M-60 near deafening in such close quarters but the heavy rounds tore great shreds from the Scuttlers bodies and sent them plummeting over the edge. One of the beasts along the walkway leapt at Ryan but the sniper was too fast and the blast from his rifle popped the Scuttler's head like an overripe melon. The last two monsters fell to the combine fire of Zeke, Wes and Eddie's weapons.
"Hurry Tech!" Zeke urged, sending his last five rounds through the face of a Scuttler that pulled itself up onto the railing beside him.
"Miracles are Jesus' department," Tech shouted, annoyed and afraid, frantically tearing and tying off wires, "and I sure as shit ain't Jesus!"
"Just hurry!" Zeke said then turned his attention back to the fight.
Another of the howling terrors jumped up beside Zeke but suddenly Wesley was at his side and ramming the stock of his M-4 into the Scuttler's throat. The creature's screams faded as it tumbled down into the dark. Scores of the hideous beasts were climbing up the rock walls now and Eddie and Cooper did what they could to sweep them clean but every Scuttler that fell away another raced up to take its place. Pierce's Remington clicked dry and he drew his pistol in one smooth movement, firing with practiced precision and knocking more of the screaming monsters from the railing. Two more of the shadowy Scuttlers leapt from the stone cliff and hurled themselves onto the bridge but were dispatched almost immediately by Skip and Shank.
"Almost there!" Tech hollered, twisting together another pair of wires.
A feral, splintering shriek at Zeke's ear drew the lieutenant's attention. He turned just in time to duck and roll under the strike of a clawed hand. The automatic rifle bounced from Zeke's fingers as he threw himself to the ground and suddenly found there was nothing but empty space beneath his legs. Failing his arms desperately, the Ranger managed to catch hold of the catwalk's grill before he went over the edge, his lower half hanging out over the yawning abyss. Holy shit, he thought, starring down into the gaping maw below.
"Zeke!" Skip cried and made a dash to where the lieutenant hung suspended but a Scuttler landed in his path and the young man had no choice but to sidestep and back way firing or wind up in two pieces.
The pop and crack of gunfire making his head swim, Zeke thought he was imagining things at first when he felt a strong hand wrap around his wrist. Then he looked up and found himself starring into Wesley's clear eyes, the Brit's face a study in utter determination. Zeke knew then that he could drag Wes down into the pit below but his friend would never let go. His friend would never give up on him.
"I've got you." Wesley said, straining to life Zeke's weight over the edge. "I've got – "
A harsh grunt fled Wesley's lips as his grip on Zeke's wrist slackened and his body crashed to the catwalk. Wrapped around the sergeant's leg was a gruesome, slime-covered tongue the color of an angry welt that rolled out of a cavernous mouth tipped with razor-sharp fangs. The Scuttler, no more than two feet away, hissed its hunger and leapt in for the kill. It did not get far. Shank whirled and intercepted the beast, bringing the stock of his AK down across the Scuttler's neck with all the might in his powerful frame. There was an audible snap of bone and the mutant hit the ground as if it were made of lead.
The big man pulled Zeke back over the side of the catwalk with one hand before assisting Wesley to his feet. "You boys can just add that on to your tab of what you owe me." He grinned.
"Thanks." Zeke panted sincerely then picked up his rifle and opened fire as yet another Scuttler tried to force its way onto the mesh bridge.
"Almost…almost…Fuck yeah!" Tech bellowed exuberantly, hitting two sparking wires together and receiving a gleeful beep as his reward. The console switched from red lighting to green as did the flashing sirens above the blast door. The readout now stated: ACCESS GRANTED and below that was a button titled DOOR RELEASE. "What did I tell you?" He asked, crawling to his feet. "Fucking child's play!"
Tech's jubilant laughter was cut abruptly short as a wet, muscled tongue wrapped around his throat from under the railing. Coughing and gagging, Tech grabbed at the rope-like tongue with one hand while fumbling at his belt for his pistol with the other. In the end the struggle proved futile as the tongue tightened and yanked back hard, pulling the weasel-faced Psycho over the railing and down into nothingness.
"Tech!" Shank screamed with anguish, making a desperate swipe for his friend but it was too late. The biker that had just saved their lives was gone.
"Goddamn bastards." Zeke said between clenched teeth, laying down on the trigger of his AK. "Goddamn Umbrella bastards!"
"Shit, I'm out!" Skip cried, eyes wide as his pistol ran empty and the spent magazine skittered across the cold metal floor.
"The door kid, get the door!" Cooper shouted, tearing three more Scuttler's from the wall with a spray from the M-60. "Go!"
"Crap." Eddie mumbled as he dropped the dry MP5 and drew his sidearm then gave the startled Skip a look that told him to hurry. "Move; we'll cover you!"
Swallowing thickly, the young man nodded and raced for the blast doors as the others opened up anew, Shank howling with fury and loss as he fired. Zeke saw the kid hop over the fallen body of a Scuttler, dodge the swipe of another as it came over the rail and, diving, slammed his palm down on the door release. With a hiss of hydraulics in motion the door slowly began to rise. Chortling with triumph, Skip picked himself up.
"I got it!" He shouted smiling. "Come on, I got it!"
Zeke turned at the sound of the young man's raised voice – and his face paled with a heart-stopping terror. "Skip behind you!" He cried, raising the AK.
Shambling forward behind Skip from the other side of the door with outstretched arms was a hairless man dressed in the remains of a bloodstained lab coat. The scientist's upper lip was gone, leaving the mouth fixed in a horrid permanent grin. Hunks of skin hung from fingers and cheeks that were as gray as smoke. Skip turned at last when the zombie wailed a dry moan but by then there was no room left to get away.
The researcher stumbled forward and caught the surprised Skip by the shoulders. Leaning forward the creature sunk its teeth into the flesh above the young man's collarbone, tearing way a bloody chunk of skin which it devoured ravenously. Skip's scream seemed to shake the foundation of the earth to its core. Zeke sent the last three rounds in his rifle through the zombie's wrinkled brow and the researcher toppled over backwards.
"Let's go!" Zeke shouted to the others, grabbing Skip's arm and dragging the shrieking young man over to the other side as blood poured down his neck.
Coop and Eddie were the first ones through, staggering backwards as they continued to pick off the frenzied Scuttlers. Shank retreated almost regretfully, spitting out profanities as he unloaded his rifle at the screaming horde of clawed horrors. Ryan pulled out last and one of the Scuttlers nearly took his head off coming over the railing but the sniper proved exceptionally agile and ducked the blow before sending a pair of rounds through the beast's face that sent it screaming down into the darkness.
By now the Scuttlers were flooding onto the catwalk. Utterly consumed by mindless bloodlust the creatures raced forward, snapping and clawing at one another to reach the head of the pack. They climbed over one another on the congested bridge, fighting to be the first to reach the survivors and a hot meal.
"Coop, grenade!" Zeke ordered as he and the others laid down suppressive fire.
The dark-skinned corporal reached into a pouch at his side that contained the grenades lifted from Haag and the dead B.O.N.E.S. troopers. Pulling out one of the dark spheres, Cooper popped the pin and rolled the explosive along the grate of the catwalk. Shrieking, the Scuttlers tore across the bridge, talons clanking across the steel mesh. A second or two later their inhuman cries were silenced by an explosion that set the floor to quaking.
When the smoke faded, Zeke noticed that the walkway had been blown clear in two and then, groaning, the two ends snapped and swung outwards. Some of the Scuttlers had not been killed in the blast and now struggled vainly to hang onto the quivering bridge as it buckled against the cliff. With a final, ear-rending crack both ends of the catwalk fell way into the darkness below, carrying the screeching mutants with it.
Wesley hit the switch on the other side and the door banged shut once more. Zeke turned to where Skip lay bleeding and weeping and howling on the floor. An indescribable sadness surfaced in the lieutenant: he wanted to scream, to break something, to stamp his feet and cry but once again Zeke Wilcott found himself helpless to act. He had never felt so alone and lost before.
Lowering himself beside the young man, Zeke tore a piece of cloth from Skip's pants and pressed the waded up material to the bleeding gash in his neck. "Looks like he missed the jugular, kid." Zeke said with an encouraging smile that did not reach his eyes. "So you'll be okay. Just hang in there, Skip, you did good. You did real good."
"Lay still buddy." Cooper said, kneeling to pat Skip's shoulder lightly. In the background Shank began to howl and curse again, pounding on the walls hard enough to leave impressions in the plaster. "We'll get you home soon."
"B-b-bullshit!" The young man screamed, a bloody froth forming on his lips. "I'm bit! I'm fucking bit!" Shrieking, Skip thrashed violently on the floor. "It itches! Zeke, it itches!"
"Easy, easy." Zeke said, his heart in his throat as he and Coop held the young man down. "Take it easy. You're to be okay, all right? We're going to take care of you now."
"No, no I won't." Skip panted, his face white as a sheet and his eyes squeezed closed as if that might shut out his pain. Sweat beading across his forehead. "I'm infected. I've got the virus…just like…everyone else in the city."
"You're going to be fine, Skip." Zeke assured the young man but was sure the tears choking his voice gave him away.
Skip seized hold of Zeke's sleeve in desperation and locked his frightened eyes with the Ranger's. "Please, Zeke." He pleaded weakly. "Please don't…let me wind up like one of those…things." He let out a shuddering sigh, blood rolling out from the corners of his mouth. "You…you have to shoot me. In the head. So I don't come back."
"No." Zeke said, flat out refusing the idea, feeling wetness touch his eyes. "We'll find another way."
Skip laughed sardonically then broke off coughing. "It's the only way, Zeke. There is no other." He said once he had regained his breath. "P-please, Zeke, it's the only thing…you can do for me…now. You have to kill me. Please. I don't want to die…not like that. Pl-please, Zeke…I don't have….l-long left."
Desperately, Zeke looked around at the faces of his companions, praying that one of them would brighten and come up with some brilliant solution that would cure this young man who had shown so much courage and determination in the face of unspeakable evil. His prayers went unanswered though. Only darkness dwelt in the faces of his friends.
Shank continued to bellow and strike at the walls as if he meant to bring the entire facility down from the inside. Cooper squeezed Skip's shoulders gently but his dour face said that he knew the young man was fading fast. Wesley took off his helmet and ran his fingers through his long hair, looking as if he were contemplating tearing out every last strand. Grim-faced, Pierce said nothing but merely slid a fresh clip into his pistol and Zeke could see the tears standing in the sniper's eyes. Eddie sat on the floor with his face in his hands, shoulders trembling.
"It's the only way." Skip repeated in a voice barely above a whisper.
Zeke starred at the young man, saw the pain and terror in his eyes. If he did nothing then Skip would be worse than dead. He would become a mindless, soulless ghoul whose only impulse in life would be to consume the flesh of the living. Death would be a release from that fate; a blessing. Nodding resolutely, Zeke rose to his feet, drew and cocked his handgun.
"I can do it, lieutenant. If you can't." Pierce offered and his tone held sympathy not an accusation of weakness.
"No, Ryan," Zeke replied, looking down at Skip unaware of the tears dripping off his chin. "I wouldn't lay this on anyone else's shoulders or conscience."
"Do it." Skip said, his eyes glassy and far away, blood pooling beneath his head.
"I'm so sorry, Skip." Zeke sniffed back his tears and leveled the gun at the young man's forehead, his hands shaking ever so slightly.
"I'm sorry too, Zeke." Skip said with a wan smile. "Looks like I won't be picking up any chicks…after all. Now, please…don't let me turn into one of them."
There was a hollow click as the lieutenant thumbed back the hammer. "I'll get those bastards, Skip. I swear that I'll get every fucking one of them." Zeke wrapped his finger around the trigger. Cooper shut his eyes and turned his head, tears spilling from beneath the closed lids. "God forgive me." Zeke said though he was no longer certain he believed in God. Blowing out a shaky breath he pulled the trigger and the gunshot echoed off into eternity.
More casualties. Zeke thought as he lowered the weapon and shut his eyes, letting the tears come freely now. More casualties to lay at Umbrella's door. After a moment, the lieutenant opened his eyes once more, said a silent prayer that Skip's soul would find peace and turned to his men.
"Come on." He said, unable to conceal the hate in his voice. "We've got a bill to collect from our friends in black."
Author's Note: Another quick update for you my loyal fans. Please remember to drop a review and let me know what you think when you get the chance. I'd also like to give props to my man E-Z B, a fellow writer on this site. As he's said before he's the Wes to my Zeke and is one of the influences that keeps me writing. The other is my own personal passion and, last but CERTAINLY not least, is you, my Readers. Enjoy and stay tuned for more as soon as I can get it posted. Thank you and if you get the chance check out Darkness Arises by E-Z B, a totally badass RE fic.