Disclaimer: The only thing I own is your mother...

Resident Evil: Guardian
Chapter 7
"Love, Hate and Back Again"

On the ground I lay
Motionless in pain
I can see my life
Flashing before my eyes
Did I fall asleep?
Is this all a dream?
Wake me up
I'm living a nightmare

I will not die…
I will survive…

I will not die!
I'll wait here for you
I feel alive!
When you're beside me
I will not die!
I'll wait here for you
In my time of dying

Three Days Grace - "Time Of Dying"

"3...2...1 Breaching!" I said as coolly and professional as possible as I kicked down the door and stepped aside as Carlos and LJ stormed through. I followed suit, taking the right flank and scanned the area nearby for any signs of hostiles.

"Front clear." Carlos said in front of us three.

"Right clear." I said, confirming that there was nothing on my side.

"God you two are tight asses." LJ muttered, probably rolling his eyes.

Carlos and I broke out of our serious trance and glared over at LJ who seemed quite amused by our annoyance.

"Just had to ruin it, didn't you?" I said to him, a frown evident on my face.

LJ seemed quite proud of himself actually, "Oh yeah, you guys sounded like real idiots just now."

"Looks who's talking." Carlos scoffed, shaking his head, "Come on, we have a job to do."

That we do. Claire has found a great place to set up camp for the week, some half-ass built farm in the middle of scenic nowhere, Utah. There's a water tower, a big farm shed and a two story house. Everything else was clear of all life signs, dead or otherwise, so our all we have to do is clear out the home.

Woopy Friggin Doo.

Anyone with eyes and ears would realize now that I'm a bit pissed and irritable. Why? You might asked, well the answer is simple.

Kmart.

The two of us have been pissed off at each other for nearly a month now. One can't even have the two of us in the same room together without a war breaking out.

Truth be told, I don't even remember why we started fighting. I'm pretty sure it began with something really stupid, some argument that had no significance what so ever. It took off from there, became more intense until insults started being slung towards each other, then it blew up into a full blown hatred.

I know it's a real shitty way to end a friendship but there's nothing I could do, I sure as hell can't apologize, I've already said too many harsh words, and I doubt Kmart would accept it anyways.

I shook my head clear of Kmart and any other thoughts dealing with us and our current status.

"LJ, you go kitchen. Nathan, upstairs. I'll take the back and cellar. Go!" Carlos laid out his plan and motioned us to action.

"Alright, boss." LJ added emphasis on the word "boss" for humor. I rolled by eyes and nodded to Carlos in acknowledgement.

The pair left my field of vision as I moved forward, up the wooden staircase that seemed to creak and snap every single step I took. It perfected the eerie flow of the house and only fueled my anxiety.

There were three total rooms in the space upstairs. Two on both right and left sides and one bathroom at the end of a very long fucking hallway.

I took the right room first, I kicked down the door to let whatever was on the other side know that I was coming through.

What the-

Green was my first impression, the walls, ceiling, hell even the carpet. All green.

Then I noticed the characteristics of the room. A big TV set on a dresser, a dusty Nintendo Wii set up to it. Next to the dresser was a single small sized bed, draped in Spongebob Squarepants sheets…oh so what if I know who Spongebob is!?! That guy was my childhood idol

I stepped over the dozens of toys which littered the ground; I crushed a plastic tank beneath my boot and eyed the mini army men who were having their own little imaginary war on the floor.

I chuckled, "Oh the irony." I spoke to myself as I shined the flashlight attached to my rifle towards the closet, filling the dark space with light.

Nothing, the room is clear.

Before I stepped out, I took a look back at the room, my mind wandering towards what happened to the obvious child who lived in this room.

I lingered on that for a few seconds, then, walked away completely.

I don't really wanna find out. I mentally said to myself as I checked the second room.

It was the master bedroom, but a simple one. A queen sized bed, couple dressers, TV and another closet.

I checked the closet, and like the last, it was clear.

"Two down, one to go." I muttered to myself as I started for the door, but a sight stopped me where I stood. Right on the top of one of the dressers, a small white box.

I grinned and walked towards the dresser. It was covered from head to toe in dust, I blew it all off and took a look at the small item.

It was a pack of cigarettes. See in post-apocalyptic times, a box of smokes was like gold to the members of the convoy.

Sure I don't smoke; but the this packet will make our next poker night a very interesting one in my favor

Satisfied, I finally exited the bedroom and headed for the nearby bathroom.

It was dark and dusty, smelled, no windows, and was pretty cramped. Basically, a real piece of crap bathroom.

My attention was then drawn to the shower curtain that hid the remainder of the room. I reached for it, my common sense was screaming at me to do otherwise, but I didn't listen.

I nearly hurled when I saw what was behind the curtains.

Hundreds of roaches, god forsaken cockroaches! A whole friggin bathtub full of them, all crawling and creeping along…god, it sent serious shivers down my spine.

"Gross…" I said aloud to nobody.

Unfortunately, "nobody" just happened to hear me.

Suddenly, the mass of the roaches lifted from the tub and made a lunged towards me. I jumped back and nearly wet myself as dozens of the little grubs went flying and squirmed on the floor.

"What the hell!?!" I exclaimed in shock, fear and disbelief as I raised my rifle at the form that came from the roach-bath.

The hundred or so bugs who made the form seemed to sense their predicament and jumped off the shape, allowing me to stare back in horror.

It was a zombie, a fucking ghoul! God knows just how long the bastard was laying in there, but it sure showed from his advanced decomposition.

There were literally holes all over his body, swarms of roaches pouring out of each visible opening. He no longer had any eyes, they were picked clean and his empty sockets were just used as nests for maggots that squirmed and wiggle.

How the hell can he see me?!?

…Screw it

I bit my lip and swallowed back down my bile as I pulled the rifle's trigger and a three round burst tore the rotter's head clean off.

"What was that? What happened?" A voice, Carlos, said over the walkie-talkies.

"Nathan? Was that you man?" LJ called after for me.

I didn't reply, no I was to busy puking my guts out when I finally caught the sight of swarms of grubs that slithered out of the dark brown stump that had once been the zombie's head.

Well there goes my appetite…for the next week.

"Any luck?" I asked Mikey as he fiddled with the radios, searching for some sort of sign of survivors.

"No dice." He said grimly, then, turned to one of the monitors in the back of his van and frowned at the sight of static.

"More good news?" I asked humorously.

"Unfortunately." He said with a shrug, "Sentinels are screwed over, looks like you're doing graveyard shift tonight."

"Oh boy, can't wait." I replied, sarcasm rich.

Mikey just shook his head.

"Good luck." he called after me as I stepped out of his news van and headed towards my humvee.

I still had at least an hour before lights out, so I picked up my rifle and began disassembling it.

It was a chore that I did at least five times a day. The M16 required it to be cleaned thoroughly and regularly, plus there's pretty much nothing else to do around here…

I had laid a carpet on the dirt and organized all of the rifle's parts in a system, so I started cleaning each part with a wet rag, a slow, tedious job but a great way to past the time.

While this was going on, I failed to notice the figure walking up to my crouched form until it was to late.

A foot kicked out and all the parts of my rifle were buried under much dust and sand.

Give you three guesses who caused this.

"Whoops! Sorry, didn't see you there" Kmart mocked an apology with a smile, then continued walking on.

"Wouldn't have happened it you didn't paint your fucking eyes shut!" So what if I stole a joke from "The Faculty"? I love that movie and that line comes in handy when dealing with a girl who wears way to much make-up.

Exhibit A: Kmart.

She spun around in an instant, anger boiling within her from my little joke. She started swearing, cussing me out, insults everywhere from "Your mom" to racial slurs…which in my opinion, doesn't even make any sense.

It went on for a little bit more, we exchanged insults over and over until I called her a "bipolar hag" and she entered another "swear as much as you can" moments.

Only this time, I was smiling when the insults came, and that smile grew bigger and bigger until I started laughing hysterically.

I don't even know why I thought it was funny. Kmart was screaming and, even though I hate to admit it, her insults hurt and stung.

I guess it was just the idea of her being this angry at me, that I thought it wasn't real, couldn't have been real, so I thought it was humorous. I really didn't mean to piss her off, but when she realized that I wasn't taking her seriously…well, then things got kinda out of control.

She insulted me and family harshly, and I mean harshly. I think she said something along the lines of "Your mom is happy she's dead, cause now she won't have to see just how pathetic you turned out to be." And more insults following along with that.

This was it, my patience was over.

I sure as hell wasn't smiling or laughing anymore, nope, I had snapped.

I. Was. Pissed.

I looked her dead in the eyes and brought my voice as low as it could possibly get and growled at her, "You shut the hell up about my family!" My hiss was quiet but vicious, I think I saw her take a step back.

"You are one cold, shallow bitch Dahlia" I used her real name as both an insult and to prove that I wasn't fucking around any more.

"And everyone in this convoy knows it" I continued my rant, "Soon, they will also know just exactly how ignorant and superficial of a bitch you really are, and then-" I never got to finish, because Kmart brought her hand forward and slapped me across the face. Hard.

She paused for a second, shocked at what she'd just done, then, started walking away. She got a few feet before stopping and turning back to look me straight in the eye.

"Nathan" Her voice was calm, cool, but irregular, "I-I…I hope you die. I hope you die in the most horrible and gruesome way possible. And when you do, I'm going to laugh…and-" she stopped, broke eye contact, and then, turned tail and ran towards the other trucks.

My mind lingered on her for a full four seconds before my mind screamed at me, Screw it, who the hell cares about her?!? She could rot for all we care.

I agreed with my mind on this matter. I started cleaning my rifle a second time, ignoring the confused, curious and worried stares everyone else in the convoy was giving me.

There were three of us on watch tonight, Claire made it an official rule that three was the magic number. Probably due to the fact that I passed out my first night out, right on the hood of my truck, just me…and Kmart.

I shook my head clear of any thoughts about her. I had to stop think about her, our friendship was guaranteed to be over after what just occurred a few hours ago.

I subconsciously poked at the meatloaf that came with my pack of MRE, I had lost my appetite a while ago, the food got even colder than it was when I first opened the bag.

I sighed and offered the food to one of the guys who was out with me, he at first raised an eyebrow, but then gladly accepted the horrible tasting military food.

Guess meatloaf is a rarity nowadays.

I decided to take a long walk away from the others, I just needed some time to clear my head, and all the company wasn't doing me much good.

I walked around for about a good ten minutes, by then, I was a fair distance away from the convoy. I turned my head and attempted to catch sight of them, but through the darkness I couldn't see very far, I had forgotten to bring my NVGs out tonight and now was paying the price. I could barely make out a dozen yards of sight, that wasn't good.

I was too busy squinting my eyes, searching for any sight of the convoy to hear the sounds of approaching footsteps until something called out with a growl.

A deep, hungry, animalistic growl.

I immediately brought my rifle to bear and spun my head around, what came to view wasn't a pretty sight.

I recognized them instantly; coyotes. Wild, crazed, hungry zombified coyotes.

Oh shit

There were four of them, even when undead they hunted in a pack. They all locked eyes with mine, and I seriously almost pissed myself.

I slowly and carefully began backing up, one step at a time, my eyes never leaving the pack of rotting canines. I was surprised they haven't made a move yet.

They must remember their animal instincts from when they were alive. That last thought chilled me to the bone…but not as much as the sound that pierced the silent darkness.

Crack

A stick, I stepped on a fucking stick!

The coyotes took this as a hint and exploded into a sprint in an attempt to rush me.

I sighted my target, the lead dog, and choked my rifle's trigger.

A burst shot propelled from the barrel and struck the pack lead. He flew back from the impact and collided with two of his teammates.

I frowned when his body began flopping up and off the ground, he maybe stunned but wasn't dead, crap.

"Headshot, go for the head." I said under my breath as I took a knee and aimed at the only mutt still rushing forth. The small red dot in my scope followed his form until it lined up with his jaw.

I saw his head explode into a gusher of blood as my shot was deemed lucky and precise.

However by now, The other three were up and running by the time I had taken the shot and one was only a few feet ahead of me.

As he lunged, I smashed his form away with the butt of my rifle, a satisfying "Snap" echoed through the fight. My smile was short-lived however as another coyote dove for a shot at my neck.

He instead, bit hard into the cold metal of my rifle as I used the weapon to deflect his strike.

I swung to the right and succeeded in shaking the dog off but at the cost of loosing the grip on my rifle.

No rest for the weary though, as the last canine made an attempt at me, I kicked him away then, jumped up and sprinted away, simultaneously unholstering by M9 pistol and flipping the safety off.

I ran as hard and fast as my body allowed, every muscle in my arms and legs ached and demanded to rest, but I kept sprinting. Never before had I ran this fast before, never in my life.

It wasn't enough.

I turned for a split second and saw that the canines were already following, and gaining considerable ground in their chase.

I spun towards them, running backwards now, and aimed through my pistol's iron sights.

I fired off maybe five rounds, and once again luck seemed to be on my side. The nearest pooch collapsed on the ground and didn't get back up. I turned my attention to the final pair and proceeded to empty my clip towards the two.

I struck one in the leg and nearly severed it. He fell helplessly into the dirt and tried to get back up, only to fall once again.

The leader coyote was nearly on top of me now, I had no time to reload, I quickly dropped my pistol with one hand and unsheathed my bayonet with the other.

The dog jumped and I dove, I managed to clutch his neck, stopping any chance of him biting me. We wrestled on the ground, he continued to try to take a chunk out of me, almost succeeded too. He nearly reached my neck before his teeth became tangled with the chain of my exposed dog tags, he tore them off and I swore. The fighting continued for a second before I buried my knife deep within his chest.

The adrenaline was going to my head, I missed my chance at his brain and only wounded him, my grip faltered, I dropped the knife and kicked the zombie hound square in the face.

I jumped back on my feet and ran for dear life. I could hear separate gunfire now, the convoy must be awake and under attack as well.

If only I stayed at my post…

My weapons were gone, I had nothing except my fist and a couple grenades. My mind quickly went over the million possibilities for what to do right now. After a second, I had made a decision, a crazy one yes, but it's better than nothing.

I glanced behind me, the pair was steadily catching up, even despite the wound and a missing leg, they continued to give chase.

I got to admit, the undead haveamazing resolve.

I looked ahead and spotted a deep ditch, I smiled, "Perfect!"

Used all my remaining strength and pushed my legs to the limit as I reached into my combat harness and retrieved a M67 frag grenade, pulled the pin and held the safety lever.

At the base of the ditch I turned and faced the music. The two were close and continuing to get closer.

"Gotta time it just right" I mentally reminded myself.

The first coyote rushed me, it was Mr. No-Foot, I swatted him away and locked eyes with the wounded pack leader.

I sidestepped him and brought a foot down hard on his back, he flipped over and I saw what I was praying for, his exposed and torn belly. I released the grenade's lever and dove my hand deep within the canine's open stomach.

My hand came back out covered with a sickening browning-red liquid…but was absent of the grenade.

I quickly sprinted away heading for the ditch and desperately took a dive forward.

Four…

The two hounds were up by now and started towards me.

Three…

They ran along together, a very dangerous few feet behind me.

Two…

I hit the ground and looked up to see them jump forth, side by side.

One…

Without warning, The pack leader suddenly imploded into nothing but an organic matter cloud. His companion was shredded to ribbons by flying shrapnel.

The concussion wave from the blast hit me a millisecond later and I instantly lost consciousness.

My final thought was what would Kmart say when she found out that her death wish on me had come true

I then welcomed the blackness that quickly consumed me.

My eyes cracked open and the sight of the starry night sky met my stare.

"What…the hell." I croaked, my throat was dry, sore, and sounded horrible.

I bit my tongue and then sat up from my previous position, my muscles ached and my nerves were going insane.

"Déjà vu" I thought to myself, memories of my previous "Sewer Adventure" filling my mind.

I took a couple minutes for a break, giving my muscles a rest and cleaned off any dirt or dried blood that stained my BDU before I fully surveyed my surroundings.

The two dogs chasing me were gone, blown to smithereens by the grenade…which strangely did not even touch me at all.

I crawled out of the ditch and checked the area. No sign of any more undead: human, dog or otherwise.

I quickly limped my way back the way I came, I eventually came across my pistol laying in the dirt. I brushed it off, loaded a fresh magazine, then continued forward, safety off and finger on the trigger.

I conducted a search for my rifle, but couldn't find any sight of it. After a good ten to fifteen minutes, I finally gave up and headed back to camp.

When I arrived, I realized that they hadn't fared much better.

There was a large pile of undead coyotes set ablaze and burning through the midnight darkness. I estimated at lest twenty and gave a short whistle that hurt my throat a bit, but the slight humor helped lighten me up.

I was heading for Claire's hummer when I passed by the ambulance. Nurse Betty clearly had her hands full trying to help give medical aid to multiple wounded convoy members.

I also passed by a row of makeshift body bags, no doubt those who were lost tonight

There were over a dozen.

Without a word, I crossed myself and continued on towards the others.

When I reached the hummer, the convoy leaders, as I liked to call them, was grouped together in a small huddle and speaking quietly. I could also hear soft whimpering but shrugged it off as a wounded person.

Nobody had noticed my by now, so I decided to make my presence known.

"Does anyone know where I put my helmet?" I spoke, the humor was out of place but I didn't care, I needed someway to lighten up.

Carlos was first to realize it was me, his eyes opened wide, surprised but then gave way to a small smile.

As the others turned to notice me, I heard LJ mutter a "Oh shit." and I cocked an eyebrow, but I immediately straightened my face with the next person to step forth from the group.

Kmart had been crying, that was the first thing I noticed, secondly, she was clutching a pair of dog tags, my dog tags tightly between her fingers. I didn't get a chance to notice a third detail because Kmart rushed towards me and pulled me into an unbreakable embrace. Her head fell against my shoulder and I could feel hot, fresh tears staining my uniform.

I can't even imagine what I could've look like right then and there. My facial expression was probably unforgettable. By the looks on everyone else's faces, it was most likely very stupid and funny.

Or maybe this moment was just really cute.

Probably a little of both.

The others started to break away and walk off, giving us some privacy. Carlos stayed behind and pulled something out of the truck.

It was my rifle, he set in out on the hood of the hummer, gave me a wink then walked off, leaving me alone with Kmart.

It hit me then and there the reason my rifle was missing and why Kmart held my dog tags; everyone had thought I died. They must've searched the area where I fought the pack, found my equipment and labeled me KIA. They must have passed right by the ditch I had blacked out in.

My thoughts ended as Kmart started to sob and shake, I freed one of my hands and started to stroke her hair softly, to comfort her.

"I'm sorry" The crying paused and her voice cracked, "I'm so sorry."

Sorry? What was she sorry for?

Oh yeah, the fights, the insults, the…death wish…

Apologize idiot! Those fights were your fault too!

"No Kmart, I'm the one who should be sorry." With the advice of the voice in my head, I started my own apology. "Those fights were my fault, the things I said…" Kmart cut me off before I could finish.

"But I wished you were dead!" She sniffled, her crying had ceased and she attempted to regain the apology. "I wanted you dead Nathan! And thanks to me, you could've…could've-" This time I cut her off as I used my free hand to gently raise her chin to met my eyes. Her eyes were red and puffy from all the tears but they still widened considerably at my words.

"Yes could've, but no, I'm still here, I'm still here K." I said softly, "I didn't die, I'm completely fine. When we fought, you were just angry, you said some stuff that you didn't mean, I did the same." Her sniffling and shaking had stopped altogether, her attention was all on me.

"Please Kmart…can't we just forget about it? What's done is done. I'm sorry, you're sorry; can't we end it at that?" I pleaded, my eyes never left contact with hers.

"And…start over?" She replied silently.

I smiled slightly, then wiped a single tear from off her face.

"Of course" I answered, she smiled warmly and then rested her head on my shoulder.

No more words were spoken that night. The two of us just spent it in each other's arms, in the other's embrace, silent and content.

I determined three things that night.

One: That Kmart cared about me.
Two: That I cared for Kmart.
And Three: I have no bloody clue what's to happen from here on in. The chances of me making it through this are very slim…

You know what? Screw it, I'm 100% determined to make it out of this alive.

And do you want to know why?

Well because, as of tonight, I now have a motivation

Ok there, for any helpless romantics out there, that was your fluff chapter...kinda

Whatever, just hope you enjoyed this chapter, review if you want. If you have any problems or concerns with my story, just drop me a line and I'll get back to you on that

Till next time
-Tomato