Once I was in my room I set my backpack on the bed, taking everything out and as I sorted it I grabbed my toothbrush. I set it aside along with my toothpaste and a clean white shirt along with a pair of grey shorts to wear as bed clothes.
"It was nice of Dale, or the agency anyway, to pay for my room. I don't know what I would have done since I don't have any cash on me. Not after..." I whispered, swallowing the lump in my throat before I scooped up everything I needed to take a shower.
Once I walked into the shower I found a towel and a shampoo bottle already set out and I blinked, surprised to find even soap until I remembered that I was staying at a hotel. "Well at least they take care of their guests." I muttered, turning on the water.
After taking a hot shower I headed back to the bedroom, now dressed in the sleeveless white shirt and grey shorts. "Much better. Hope I can sleep this time without those horrible nightmares." I sighed to myself, pulling back the blanket. I slide into bed and as I reached over to turn the lamp light off I froze staring at the door for several seconds.
Climbing from the bed I quickly moved to the door only relaxing when I found that I had remembered to lock the door. "Better to be safe." I muttered to myself as I moved back to the bed checking that the key to my room was still in the drawer before I finally turned the light off.
Thankfully my dreams were peaceful and I woke with a yawn, stretching as soon as I sat peering at the clock on the bedside table. "Already nine am? Oh well at least I didn't have any more nightmares." I mumbled, rubbing at my eyes before I climbed from the bed.
After taking a shower mainly to wake myself up I grabbed my jacket and jeans along with a white shirt that I didn't recognize from the bag. "Lucy must have bought it for me." I said, dressing quickly and as I returned to the bathroom to clean my teeth and brush out my hair I couldn't help thinking about the John Doe lying in the morgue.
Wish I knew his name. I mean he didn't deserve that bite or being dumped in a morgue. Though everyone he probably knew was lost in the city.
Shaking my head I finished fixing my hair, looking at my reflection and I smiled to myself noting that the dark circles under my eyes were gone. Exiting the bathroom I packed up my belongings leaving them in my backpack which I left on my bed before I moved to the drawer, grabbing my room key and as I left my hotel room I wondered if Dale's friend Albert from the agency had found out who that poor man was.
I wandered into the dining room of the hotel to find Dale already seated and once he saw me he waved me over. "Good morning, Megan. How did you sleep?" He asked, setting down his coffee cup as I took a seat opposite him.
"Great thanks, Dale." I replied, waiting patiently for the waitress to take my order. "No more nightmares."
"Thanks great to hear, Megan. I have some good news." Dale said, taking a sip of his coffee watching as I ordered coffee and bacon and eggs. "Albert found out the identity of our mysterious man."
"Who is...or was he?" I asked and he smiled at me as he set his cup down. "Oh come on. Don't keep me in suspense, Dale."
"His name is or was David Bell, aged 32 single and until recently he was a resident of Raccoon City. Albert went through his records and he had no police convictions of any kind." Dale explained and I sighed, fiddling with the tablecloth. "Megan, it's not your fault." He added, reaching over and I glanced up when he gave my right hand a squeeze.
"I know but I still feel bad. He didn't deserve what happened to him and now he's lying dead and forgotten in the town morgue. Did Albert find anything about his family?" I asked, noting with a faint smile that Dale's hand didn't move from mine until he saw the waitress approaching with my order.
"Thank you." I told Trudy the waitress as she handed me my meal. "It's pretty quiet today."
"Be thankful for that." Trudy answered as Dale grimaced. "We've had everyone from a marching band to a Icelandic group staying here. Enjoy your meal."
"Icelandic group?" I asked Dale who just shook his head at me, sipping at his coffee and I shrugged digging into my own breakfast when he didn't answer.
"So now that we know who David Bell so that's one mystery solved I guess." I told Dale as we left the hotel lobby and I blinked at him as soon as we stepped into the parking lot.
"I drove my car into town after all, Megan. Come on let's go back to the sheriff's department." Dale pointed laughing a little when my cheeks reddened. Feeling very silly I followed Dale as he crossed the parking lot and when I reached the passenger-side door Dale unlocked it for me, even opening the door for me.
Once Dale drove out of the parking lot I looked through the windshield, wondering if anyone had already contracted the virus despite Dale's promise that no one beside Doc Hayward had touched the body.
"Megan, I already made a call to Doctor Hayward and only he's been anywhere near David." Dale told me and I let out a breath looking out at the trees in the distance. "Still if you're that worried we could make another visit to the morgue."
"Don't even joke about that, Dale." I warned and he gave me a smirk concentrating on the road in front of us. "I hope he's telling the truth because one tiny scratch can start the outbreak all over again."
"I know, Megan but you can trust me on that. No one has turned up at the hospital with any of the symptoms you described at the diner." Dale replied and I nodded, wondering how long it would take to get back to the sheriff's department.
While I was staring out the window, lost in thought, Jim had just woken up in his bedroom with a groan a growing headache making his head pound. Climbing from the bed he wandered over to the bathroom catching sight of his reflection and he recoiled, finally see just how red his eyes were and as he scratched at the mark on his hand he lifted his hand. Once he saw the black veins spreading across his hand where the fingernails of David had scratched him he gasped, the infected limb burning as he clutched at the sink in front of him.
"What's wrong with me?" He groaned, closing his eyes and after a few minutes the pain subsided enough to allow him to dress though before he left for work he dry-swallowed a few headache pills hoping that he would be well enough to drive to work.
Driving to the hospital Jim started to feel nauseous, the pills doing nothing to make the headache better. In fact as he pulled into the parking lot he felt his stomach twist and he barely made it outside, vomiting violently into the nearest bushes. Wiping at his mouth Jim staggered towards the front door making it as far as the reception desk before his vision grew dark and he tripped, falling to his knees in front of several waiting patients. Seeing him on his knees two patients, one with his left arm in plaster and the other there for his routine checkup, headed his way kneeling beside Jim as he panted from the burning sensation running along his arm.
Clutching at his arm he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and a man's voice. "Come on. Up you go." The man in for his check up said, helping Jim to his feet where the morgue attentdant swayed somehow able to stand. "Geeze that's one hell of a scratch." He commented, looking at Jim's swollen wrist and arm. When the patient heard Jim groan he blinked, watching as Jim lifted his head his eyes not even looking at anything as he let out another more drawn out groan.
"Hey buddy? You alright?" The man in plaster asked, reaching over and as he waved his right hand in front of Jim's face the morgue attendant lashed out grasping his right hand. "Hey let go." He snapped eyes widening when Jim pulled his hand towards his mouth, Jim's mouth opening wide before he snapped at the hand. The man screamed, pulling his hand away after striking Jim in the face with his left arm though not before Jim had torn his pinky finger off.
Jim heard screams as he chewed the finger in his mouth but he didn't react, the gnawing hunger he had felt ever since David in the morgue had scratched him having consumed him. In seconds Jim was no more now just another carrier for the T-Virus and as people screamed, backing away he lunged for the poor man now missing a finger.