Chapter 1: Crash Dive
Claire Redfield couldn't say she was too surprised when she got the call earlier. It was an infrequent occurrence, but just frequent enough to be expected every now and again, the fading surprise giving way to low irritation, though she was sure it wouldn't be too long before it became genuine anger.
The young biker girl pulled her Harley up to the front of the Bullseye Bar, the purring engine coming to a stop as she switched the ignition off, and propped the kickstand down. Slipping off the warm seat, she reached up and eased her red helmet off, shaking her long auburn ponytail out. Placing the helmet atop the bike with her left hand, and straightening her hair with her right, her grey-blue eyes narrowed with annoyance as she looked on at the neon sign.
Dressed as she was in a black leather jacket, stylized flames running down both sleeves, with her red tank top underneath, as well as her jeans and riding boots, she wouldn't look too out of place. Inhaling a deep breath, dreading what was to come, the young woman marched up to the doors, and pushed them open.
Instantly, her nose crinkled as the mixed scents of stale beer, nicotine smoke, and sour sweat came upon her senses all at once. The small pub only had a few tables, and a row of bar chairs standing by the main counter, where the barkeeper responded to her arrival with a curt nod as he polished a glass with a rag that was probably only making the cup even dirtier.
She wasn't much of a fan of bars, and had no real taste for alcohol save for an occasional drink every now and again. Usually in the comfort of her dorm, or with a nice dinner when her brother came by, which was another infrequent occurrence, and one more welcome than these. Still, Claire might as well have been one of Bullseye Bar's regulars, at this point, her college roommate being the major reason as to why she kept coming back.
"CLAIRE-BEAR!"
Speak of the devil...
Claire spotted her roommate, the blonde Elza Walker, dressed in a white top and jeans, waving at her excitedly from one of the small tables near the back, just right next to the double doors that led to the strip club the bar was connected to: Love Planet. Her roomie sure knew how to pick the classiest joints.
The redhead started towards her roommate's table, her eyes noting the three gentlemen crowding around her.
It was gonna be one of those nights...
"Claaaaaaaire! You came! I'm sho happ-" Elza began, her words a little slurry, and her cheeks a bright red. Judging by the amount of shot glasses around her, she was good and liquored up.
"Come on, let's go," she interrupted her tipsy roommate, snatching her wrist, and pulling her up from her chair.
Every once and while, Elza felt the need to go out and 'loosen up' from the stresses of college life, which, in her case, usually meant going on a booze bender. Her fellow student was a very happy drunk, as most discovered after a few drinks. But when she got smashed, she got SMASHED.
Claire had gone out with Elza on a few of these experiences, mostly to try and rein the blonde in, as well as act as the designated driver when the need arose, which it always did. Fortunately - or unfortunately, in some cases - most places knew to call her dorm if the blonde was by herself, usually asking her to pick her friend up, and clean up any mess she may have made in her giddy drunkenness.
She wished she could say she'd had worse babysitting gigs, but she genuinely liked the other girl for her shared academic interests, as well as their mutual love for motorcycles. Redfield hadn't met many other young girls her age that also liked the things that she liked, so she'd put up with the other woman's vices for that, at least.
Elza blinked her bright blue eyes in confusion, stumbling up as her roommate pulled her along, managing to slur out, "Wha-? But you juss got here!"
"Yeah, well, you drank enough for the both of us, so party's over. Now c'mon. We've got class in the morning."
Claire knew if she usually acted firm enough, her fellow student wouldn't put up much of a protest, and would probably thank her in the morning, depending on how fast she got over her hangover.
She managed to lead Elza a step away from the table-
-when a meaty hand clamped itself over her own wrist, halting her.
"Whoa-ho! Cool yer jets there, baby!"
Claire snapped her eyes up at the offender with their hand on her. It was a tall, barrel-chested man wearing a denim vest over a stained wife-beater and dirty jeans, his hair thinning, and his beard full and greasy-looking. His two buddies behind him were of similar apparel, and they all appeared old enough to be either young women's father. The auburn-haired girl found her nose wrinkling again when she caught a whiff of the guy's breath, and she fought the urge to start gagging.
"We was just gettin' ta know yer friend here. Why don't you jus' sit yer pretty selves back down, and we'll get ya some drinks to start ya off. Whaddya say?"
He offered the young woman a friendly smile, and she had to repress her gag reflex at the sight of his teeth, or lack thereof.
"...How's about this? You take your hand off me, and my friend and I will leave quietly. First and only warning," she countered, her voice cool and leveled, betraying the anger at her personal space having been breached by this creep.
The man blinked, his expression turning bemused. "'Scuse me? I'm jus' tryin' ta be-"
She felt his grip tighten as he spoke, and what happened next was mostly by instinct.
Claire whipped her left leg out, her booted heel nailing the man dead center in the face as she yanked her hand free from his grip, a satisfying crunch signaling that she had caught him squarely in the nose. The creep sailed backwards, smacking into one of his buddies, who had stood slack-jawed in shock instead of trying to move out of the way.
The third guy, still standing, managed to snap out of his stupor, and lunged for her with an enraged look and snarl. "You fuckin' bitc-"
She cut off his rude response with two quick jabs, letting go of Elza's hand to free her own right, before following up with a roundhouse kick that sent him up and over the table, a few glasses following him, and breaking under his heavy gut.
The first creep staggered back up, his face bloody, and his nose ruined. Not that it did much to worsen his looks, anyway.
"Fugging BICH!" he gargled, and the Redfield girl let herself smile at how funny he sounded. It was like a walrus blubbering.
Her smile dropped when he produced a small object from his left pocket, a flick of his thumb heralding a flash of sharp metal.
Oh crap...! she thought to herself, raising one arm in front of her tipsy roommate, who had stayed quiet, watching the impromptu brawl with rapt attention.
The thug took one charging step forward, his knife thrusting out, ready to pierce Claire's chest-
-but was suddenly stopped by a black-gloved hand that caught the man's wrist easily.
Both Claire and the creep did a double-take before a new voice spoke up. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with knives?"
Before the man could respond, a second gloved fist slammed into his chest. Whereas her kick had knocked the man flat on his rear, this blow sent him flying back into the wall of the bar with enough force to shake the wall, and dislodge dust from a rafter above. The creep crumbled into an unconscious heap with a pitiful groan and whimper.
The woman blinked, flabbergasted by the display of raw strength, and turned her gaze towards the interloper.
He was a tall but young man, easily a head over her five-foot-six frame, wearing a red suit jacket over a black shirt and crimson pants, silver charms and jewelry hanging around his neck. Most curious of all about this newcomer were the snowy, silver-platinum shaggy locks atop his head, while his eyes were an intense icy blue. The man smirked down at the unconscious creep before looking at the two remaining men, who gazed back with obvious terror.
"Remember, boys, it ain't nice to put your hands on a lady without her consent," he chided, wagging his right index finger at them cheekily, before his eyes narrowed into something more menacing. "Now unless you want a personal refresher on why you should never pull this kinda crap around here again, I suggest you get while the gettin's good."
They didn't need to be told twice, and high-tailed it out of there, not even bothering to help their unconscious friend as they fled through the double doors into the strip club.
The white-haired man scoffed, smirk widening into a sneer. "Wimps..."
Claire merely stood there, stupefied into stunned silence.
Elza wasn't as quiet, though. "THAT WASS SHOOO COOOOOOLLL!" she screeched, jumping and waving her arms like an overly enthusiastic cheerleader.
He turned towards both women upon hearing Elza's cry, eyes closing as he shrugged casually. "Eh. They weren't so tough."
The sober biker girl bristled at his nonchalance, suddenly finding herself aggravated by his remark.
"I had that under control, you know," she remarked, her cool tone only just betraying her annoyance.
She had a feeling they might have just traded three assholes for one, which wasn't much of a trade when one thought about it.
The red-clad boy surprised her by nodding, his smirk becoming a pleasant smile as he met her grey-blues with his icy-blue orbs. "Yeah, you did, actually. That's a pretty sweet kick you've got there. But when I saw him whip out that puny excuse of a knife, well... I had to do the gentlemanly thing, and get in on the action. Didn't wanna risk him nicking that pretty face of yours, now."
That sent a unexpected flush of heat to her cheeks, which Elza would have been happy to point out if she was sober. Drunk as she was, the blonde was about to make sure the whole world knew. Her drunken roommate suddenly leapt onto her, causing the auburn girl to stumble as she hugged her just a tad too tightly, giggling all the while.
"Oooh, Claire-Bear, yer sho cute when you blush!"
"Glad to see I ain't the only who thinks so," he added, his voice low, and that somehow made Claire's cheeks even redder.
"Okay, fun time's over!" she interjected maybe just a tad too quickly, breaking free from her roommate's hug to snatch her wrist again, once more trying to lead her towards the exit. "As exciting as this all was, we still have class in the morning. And no, you're not skipping out again just because you'll be hungover."
Claire hated how motherly her voice sounded, especially since Elza was half-a-year older than her.
"But I wanna shee the pretty guy flirt wichu mooore!" the other girl whined, and if the younger woman thought her cheeks were red before, she felt like her entire face was on fire now.
The man in red laughed at Elza's comment, his left hand slipping into his jacket's pocket, favoring both women with another smile as he spoke again. "Much as I'd love to stay and do just that, I'm afraid business beckons." His right hand motioned over his shoulder, thumb out towards the double doors to the strip club.
Of course... Claire thought with a mental eye roll.
But then he met her gaze again, and the auburn-haired woman found herself pausing as his expression softened ever so slightly. "But, hey, uh... If you've got any free time tomorrow, I'd love to treat you to lunch."
The young woman blinked, once more caught off-guard, allowing her friend to sidle up closer and whisper to her, which, in her drunken state, was just an octave higher than her regular speaking voice.
"Do iiiiiiiit, gurrl! He did juss shave yer life..."
Smirking at Elza's slurred words, the young man added, "And a pretty close shave, at that."
Despite herself, Claire found her earlier annoyance at him fading away fast. She didn't really have any interest in dating or partying like her roommate did, wanting to instead focus on her classes, making her brother proud. Still, this stranger had intervened on her behalf...
"C'mon. I'll make it worth your while," he implored, tilting his head to the side with an amiable smirk. "I guarantee the place'll be way less shadier than this dump. I'll even throw in a strawberry sundae for your troubles... Whaddya say?"
...After scrutinizing him for another moment, she then let out a deep sigh, lips raising into a small smile.
Why not? It would probably be just a one-time thing, anyway.
"...Alright, hotshot... I get out of class at 2," she informed him, once more meeting his gaze.
With that said, his icy blues lit up, and he did a fist pump with his free hand.
"Yes! You won't regret it, I promise! I know this great place called Fredi's. Trust me, you'll love their-"
"That's all well and dandy..." a new voice interrupted, this one with a deeper, gruffer tone. Both women and the lone male turned towards the voice's source, seeing the bartender watching them with an angry expression. "But who's gonna pay for that table and the broken glasses?!"
The man in red chuckled, extending his hand towards the barkeep as he replied, "Ah, put it on Enzo's tab. You know he's good for it."
The bartender scoffed, resuming his glass washing, but nodded, seemingly satisfied.
The younger man then turned his attention back to the girls, his smirk returning. "And with that, ladies, I'll see ya around." He favored Claire with another soft gaze before heading for the double doors to the club next door.
To her own surprise, she found herself calling after him. "Wait! I didn't give you my name-"
"Already know it, 'Claire-Bear,'" he interjected, and she found her cheeks heating up again. Elza's drunken giggling certainly didn't help.
Calling after him again just as he reached the doors, she inquired, "Well, you know mine, but I don't know yours."
The man paused before opening the doors, turning back around to favor her with his easy-going smile. "...Anthony. Anthony Redgrave. But you can call me Tony."
With that, he stepped through the doors, and in a flash of pink light and sultry pop music, the young man, Tony, was gone.
"...Tony Redgrave, huh?" Claire whispered, finding herself smiling again.
Not a bad name for a guy like him.
"You liiiiiiiike hiiiiiiimmmmmmm!" Elza sang in off-key.
Rolling her eyes, she pulled her drunk roommate along gently after her. "Well, don't get too attached. I'm probably never gonna see him again after tomorrow."
...Hard to believe that was almost eight months ago... Claire mused internally.
She wasn't sure why her thoughts had drifted back to that day. Maybe she was grasping for something from a more 'normal' time, considering the insanity she seemed to have stumbled into.
After her arrival at the gas station, she had called Elza from a nearby phone booth like she had promised, mostly to reassure her roommate that she was fine, and almost to her destination without any problems so far, save for the last hour of bad weather. Then, after stepping out of the phone booth, the girl had heard the distinct *crack* of gunfire from inside the station. She had started towards the door, her curiosity overpowering her common sense for a moment.
Then she had seen the blood staining the asphalt right outside the door. That had been more than enough to give her pause, and was her first clue something was very wrong. Her next clue was the foul smell in the air, like rotting fruit and spoiled meat. When the first of the shambling figures lurched into view, seemingly from out of nowhere, Claire realized whatever she had just wandered into wasn't just very wrong. It was horrifyingly wrong.
The creatures looked like people. People wearing torn, bloodstained clothing, whose flesh was rotting off their bones, with murky, clouded eyes, all of them locked on her, each with open mouths. Some were drooling, others leaking dark, clotted blood, but all of them were moaning in hunger. The young woman's mind quickly concluded that it was a pack of zombies closing in on her, not people.
Not anymore, at least.
She had bolted for the station after that. And while running into Tony Redgrave had seemed like an impossible coincidence, he had still managed to save her life once again.
They sat in silence as he drove the police cruiser down the lone, dark road leading directly into Raccoon City.
She could remember staying up late in her youth, watching late night creature-features in the relative comfort of her room, with very similar premises such as the one she presently found herself in. Now that she had a moment to gather her thoughts, her rational mind was desperately clutching for a realistic explanation for the horrors she had just witnessed. As she wrapped her arms around herself, unable to fight off the sudden shudder quaking through her, followed by her skin bristling, the young college girl found she couldn't come up with one.
A sudden jet of warm air washed over her, making Claire blink when she saw Tony moving his free hand away from the heater controls.
The warm air successfully overcame the chills, and before she realized it, she whispered a genuine "Thank you."
His lips curled back into that easygoing smile of his, and he replied, "Anytime, babe."
Her gratitude vanished at that, her mind easily returning to their last conversation, the anger and hurt too fresh to forget. Then she quietly closed her eyes, and exhaled slowly. There would be a time and place for that, and it wasn't here or now, so she pushed the anger down for the time being.
The warm air began drying the lingering rainwater clinging to her hair and skin, though her jacket, top, shorts, and riding boots were still pretty much soaked. The hot pink matching vest and hot pants, plus the black tank-top and shorts underneath weren't the smartest choices for riding apparel, but Elza had borrowed her gear the same day she decided to set out for Raccoon. Claire had been in too big of a hurry to wait for her roommate to return, and had decided to leave anyway.
She knew Chris would blow a gasket if - when - he found out she had been on her Harley without her gear. Still, she resisted the urge to huff at that silly thought. She was a great rider, and his concerns, while well-intentioned, were misplaced. Though in the back of her mind, the younger Redfield knew that if she had taken a spill without at least any leathers, they would have been scraping her off the side of the road.
Or maybe one of those walking corpses would have found me first, and decided to chow down... a dark part of her mind mused. Another shudder wracked through her, this one not caused by the cold still clinging to her.
Her boyfriend looked away from the lone road ahead, giving her a contemplative glance before returning his gaze forward, left hand on the steering wheel while his right remained by his side, gripping his handgun. Just in case, she figured.
"So, uh... We gonna talk about what the hell just happened back there, or are we just gonna sit in awkward silence 'til we're in the city?" the pale-haired man inquired, glancing at her again.
Claire closed her eyes, successfully fighting off yet another shudder as she remembered the shambling ghouls' hungry moans and horrid stench.
"...I'm not even sure where to begin," she admitted, still somewhat overwhelmed.
Tony didn't seem to share her current demeanor. "Then I'll start. Are zombies a regular occurrence around here? 'Cause if they are, they reaaally oughta start giving people a heads-up... 'Course, I think the walking dead would be a bigger tourist attraction than an umbrella."
The girl blinked, momentarily confounded by his strange comment, even by the flippant loudmouth's standards, before realizing what he meant.
"It's not an 'umbrella.' It's 'Umbrella,' the pharmaceutical company. With a capital U?" she explained, relieved to discuss something else - anything else - if it was normal and not the impossible, like the walking dead no doubt still shambling after them back on that deserted road to town.
The red-clad driver frowned, before scoffing, bemused. "Who the hell names their company after an umbrella? That's just stupid."
Claire found herself smiling at his absurdity over the company's name, the earlier terror starting to fade away. She wasn't about to just forgive and forget what he had said only a day ago, but she would allow herself this. The man had a way of making you smile even in tense situations, and she was grateful for that, at least for right now.
"They were founded back in the... '60s, I think, so they probably thought they were being clever with some kind of metaphor," she explained, barely noticing that the patrol car was beginning to slow down.
Tony scoffed again, his gaze still focused ahead, but his eyes narrowed slightly. "Bet they're regretting that choice now," he mused, before frowning.
It was then that Claire realized that he had slowed the car down to a virtual crawl. She blinked, glancing at the car window to her right, and she could see the lights of various buildings refracted through the drenched glass. The college girl hadn't even noticed that they had arrived in Raccoon City itself, too distracted by the earlier encounter with the walking dead, and her boyfriend's attempts to lighten the mood.
His next words caught her off guard. "I know I'm startin' to regret driving into the city like this... Maybe we should've gone back the way we came," he murmured darkly, his icy eyes scanning their new environment.
She almost asked him what he meant by that when her own eyes focused enough to let her really see the street of Raccoon City they cruised down on.
The gas station had been terrifying, the terror and horror of that situation lingering still. But this?...
This was much, much worse.
Rows of cars were lined on either side of them, all seemingly empty. Some were untouched, save for the still-falling rain cascading droplets down the glass and metal. Some had their side windows smashed, blood staining the driver and passenger doors. Some had their doors open, and every now and again, despite how badly she wanted to look away, Redfield would spot a pale outstretched hand or leg hanging limply out.
A few street lamps still shone brightly, illuminating the dark street, casting long shadows on the tall dark buildings overlooking the street, none of the windows displaying any kind of light from inside. Small fires burned, some burning from inflamed trashcans, various torn garbage bags surrounding the street corners, litter cluttering throughout the asphalt.
Then there were the bodies.
Men, women, young, and old. All kinds were sprawled across the sidewalks, some covered in head-to-foot in blood, the exposed flesh of their arms, legs, and heads torn, missing great chunks of skin, torn muscle and the occasional flash of white bone rising through the dark, rain-soaked night.
As Tony continued to slowly drive the cruiser down the streets, Claire saw more abandoned cars, more blood, and more bodies than she had ever wanted to see in her young life.
There were no living people in sight...
Or unliving.
"They..." she whispered, her heart pounding with reignited terror. "Those things reached the city..."
Tony suddenly raised his right hand, catching her attention away from the horrors outside. She glanced at him, opening her mouth to ask him something. She wasn't sure what, but the intense expression on his face silenced her words before they could form. His eyes narrowed very slowly, like he was concentrating on something. Then she realized he was listening for something.
She could hear it now, too, just faintly.
A voice, just loud enough to be heard, but oddly low, with a strange humming buzz under toning whatever it was saying.
Her companion's right hand reached for the dial of the radio set just above the gear shift. His fingers fiddled with dial and other buttons, and then in seconds, the radio crackled to life. Harsh static was all that came from it. Frowning again, he turned a dial, adjusting the frequency to another channel. More static. Claire swallowed, her throat dry.
Finally, after two more static-filled channels, he found a frequency, with a male voice - mechanical, but clear and firm - speaking across the electronic void.
"Attention all citizens: Due to the city-wide outbreak, you are advised to take shelter at the Raccoon City police station. Food and medical supplies will be provided to everyone in need."
The male voice stopped. And then after a moment, began to repeat its warning.
The boy switched the radio off, his expression grim as he turned his eyes back to the road ahead, the cruiser's headlights the only other light cutting through the dark and quiet city. Claire found her eyes drawn back to the seemingly endless row of cars around them, trying not to focus on her growing terror of the incredibly bleak situation they found themselves in.
"Oh my god, this is so unreal..." she murmured, more to herself than anything.
If her boyfriend had heard her, she couldn't tell, because he seemed lost in his own thoughts for a moment.
"Outbreak..." he mused aloud, making her blink and look at him again. "If they're calling it an outbreak..." Claire immediately knew what he was going to say next. "It must have started here, then. In the city. And those freaks at the station wandered their way out there lookin' for a fresh meal."
Started here?!... Oh god! Chris! her thoughts raced, panic spiking her terror, and making her heart pound harshly against her chest.
"The-the police station," she started to speak, barely able to keep the quiver of fear for her brother's safety out of her voice. "It-it's not too far from here; just another block. The radio said people should go there for safety. Someone there has to know something-"
"Claire..." the red-coated man interrupted, and his voice was firm. All traces of his usual humor were gone, and that made her realize the situation was as grave as it seemed if Tony Redgrave, of all people, was going to be serious for more than a minute. "If this outbreak's even half as bad as it looks... there might not be anyone left... We might be the only people left in this city that are still alive."
The young college student stared back at the pale-haired man, her grey-blue eyes wide with disbelief, her jaw ready to drop, while the slightly older male's expression, if anything, seemed resigned to Raccoon City's bleak fate.
"No," she snapped firmly, denying his belief, refusing to concede that they may be the only living people left. "No, we can't be the only ones! Someone- Raccoon's a big city! There will be survivors at the station, and someone there will know something about what's happened here!"
Tony held her gaze, still looking somewhat resigned. Then his eyes closed, and his lips curled upwards into his familiar smirk.
"Yeah, you're probably right... Sorry for being such a downer," he admitted easily, leaning back in his seat, left hand still clutching the wheel. The young woman could only blink, truly flabbergasted by his sudden switch in mood.
The pale-haired male opened his icy eyes again, looking ahead of them before casually holding his right hand out before speaking again. "Only problem is..." The woman followed his line of vision, and saw what lay in their vehicle's path, "it looks like we're walkin' the rest of the way."
A large pileup of cars lined in a straight row sat in the road ahead, with several yellow and black traffic detour blockades propped in front of them. Claire briefly wondered if the blockade had been set up to keep the flesh-eaters no doubt lurking about in the city from advancing any further. She had her doubts about their success, as she happened to catch something in the corner of her right eye.
"More like running..." she murmured aloud, and Tony turned his head in her direction, quickly spotting what she was now watching, unable to look away.
On the corner of the sidewalk, two figures sat on their hands and knees over a third person's body. As their heads rose back up, revealing in what little illumination there was offered by the flickering street light, their pale, rotting flesh, blood-coated lips, and hunks of their victim's flesh hanging from their jaws. The zombies' white eyes turned towards them, and Claire shuddered, unable to see any remnants of their lost humanity. Only unending pools of murky white, filled with mindless hunger.
The white-haired driver nodded, shifting in the driver's seat and saying, "Good call, babe." His left hand reached for his door's handle-
-when another pale, rotting face, and blood-covered hands slammed into the window, a hungry howl issuing from the zombie as it began beating on the glass with its hands in a desperate, almost furious desire for both of their flesh.
Claire flinched back, shouting out in fresh shock and disgust "Jesus Christ!" when she heard another smack of something slamming against her door. Whirling around, her eyes widened when she saw another ghoul beating against her door, with several more staggering seemingly from nowhere behind it, their rotting bodies quickly surrounding the vehicle on all sides. More and more of the flesh-eaters surrounded the car, their hands bashing against the glass and metal in eager desire for the morsels trapped inside.
Tony glared angrily at the zombies, looking more annoyed than terrified compared to the girl. "Yeesh! These freaks ever think about formin' a line?!" he asked aloud, offering her an amused smirk, which she responded with an incredulous look that screamed 'Are you kidding me?!'
"Anthony, stop joking around, and back up!" she snapped at him, somehow successfully resisting the urge to smack him for trying to make a quip when life and death were on the line, with only a car door between them and the zombies' jaws.
Waving her off just as infuriatingly casually as ever, Tony grumbled "Yeah, yeah..." He had just reached for the wheel when his gaze happened to glance up. Whatever he saw froze him in place, genuine shock and disbelief appearing on his handsome face as he stared into the rear-view mirror.
"Oh, you've gotta be shitting me."
Claire blinked, his sudden shock catching her off-guard. But before she could say anything, she realized the interior of the car was gradually getting brighter. Blinking, she looked back, searching for the new source of light-
-and she saw what her companion had seen. The rapidly-approaching set of headlights were atop the massive, eighteen-wheeler semi-truck barreling down the street behind them, the long-nose front of the truck slamming into staggering zombies, and sending them flying in splashes of rainwater and blood. The truck was approaching fast, and showed no signs of slowing down as it charged forward, mere moments away from slamming into their much smaller vehicle.
"Holy shit..." she whispered for the second time that night, and from the way things were shaping, it certainly wouldn't be the last.
"Claire, get out." The woman in question was snapped from her stupor by her boyfriend's sudden command, his eyes intense, all traces of humor completely gone once more as he repeated more demandingly, "Claire, get out NOW!"
Between being painfully crushed inside a small car by a much larger truck, or being torn apart by hordes of the living dead, she couldn't say which option sounded like the worst way to die. But if there was even a single chance of surviving this horrible night, she was more than willing to take her risk with the undead than the certain death that was almost upon her. Claire whirled around, snatching her door's handle, and shoving at it to open-
-only for the number of zombies still pressing up against the vehicle to hinder her efforts, the door opening a fraction of the way before one of their stinking carcasses slammed it back closed as they continued vainly to reach for the living people inside.
"I can't!" she shouted back, frantically looking back at Tony.
While the white-haired man could push his door open farther than she could, he still wasn't able to open it entirely either. A few more seconds, and with a greater display of his real strength, he could have gotten himself free. But even then, he wasn't about to leave the girl behind. Not after coming this far to find her.
Jerking back to look from her to the oncoming truck, the red-coated driver braced his hands against the steering wheel and dashboard before shouting, "HOLD ON!"
Claire mimicked his motions, her eyes wincing closed as she tightened her entire body up, trying her best to prepare herself for the impact-
Screeching steel heralded a jarring and sudden bolt of heaving motion, the semi having slammed into another vehicle only a few feet away from the cruiser, the truck turning on its side before impacting the smaller car, and sent it spinning forward, the dozen or so zombies crushed under the tanker the truck was carrying, blood, flesh and sparks flying in all directions. The cruiser spun, coming to a painful stop against one of the cars part of the blockade, while the semi-truck grinded to a halt.
The world was spinning, a dull hum issuing in her ears as Claire finally managed to push her door open, and stagger out of the car with a pained moan, her boots splashing through rainwater. The young college student panted, her whole-body aching, the overpowering smell of so many rotting bodies and blood mixing with a newer smell. Something like diesel, or-
A sudden wave of heat washed over her, followed a split-second later by a loud *BOOM* as the cruiser behind her exploded, the rush of heated air causing her to whirl around as she saw the flames rushing towards the tanker of the semi, and she instantly understood it was carrying a full load of gasoline.
"Oh shit...!" she uttered before breaking into a sudden run.
That act may have saved her from the worst, as the tanker lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July in a massive burst of flames, the roaring explosion sending her flying even from almost twenty feet away. Claire's lithe body slammed into the side of a white car, and she collapsed onto her side with a groan, her body feeling one giant, throbbing bruise.
Gasping, whimpering in pain, she forced herself onto her hands and knees, then onto her feet, clutching her left arm with her right hand, her long auburn locks clinging to her forehead as fresh rainwater quickly soaked her once more. She hardly gave the cold rain any mind thanks to the intense heat coming from the huge pyre of flames that had once been several cars and the tanker truck. Her grey-blue orbs fell on the burning cruiser, and for a moment, she feared the worst...
"CLAIRE!"
The relief she felt hearing Tony's voice calling over the roaring crackle of the fire was immense, and almost enough to bring tears to her eyes. He was alive. He had gotten out of the car in time, just like her.
"CLAIRE, TALK TO ME! YOU OK?!"
Stepping a little way forward, she called back, "YEAH! I'M ALRIGHT! HOW ABOUT YOU?!"
A pause.
Then, he replied. "EH, A LITTLE SCORCHED! I EVER TELL YOU FIRE'S BAD FOR MY COMPLEXION?!"
Despite the terror of the living dead and the near-death by crushing followed by burning, Claire couldn't stop the laughter from escaping past her lips.
Yep, she told herself. He's just fine.
Her joy didn't last long, though.
"CLAIRE, WE GOTTA GO! THE STREET'S CRAWLIN' WITH ZOMBIES!"
She blinked, looking around, whispering, "Oh shit..."
Once again she saw several ghouls staggering through the flames, uncaring of their burning clothes and hair, with more emerging from the shadows of alleyways.
Tony's voice called from over the flames. "GET TO THE STATION! I'LL MEET YOU THERE!"
Claire took a few steps back, trying to distance herself from the closing flesh-eaters, calling back to the man desperately, "YOU DON'T KNOW THE WAY!"
Somehow, she heard his cocky laugh over the crackling fire. "I'LL BE FINE, BABE! NOW GET YOUR SWEET ASS OUTTA HERE, ALREADY!"
The girl felt her cheeks heating up, and she was embarrassed to admit it wasn't from being so close to the raging fires. She heard sudden steps of heavy boots, followed by the crack of a handgun repeating, and knew that Tony was gone. He would have to find the way to the station on his own, and she couldn't stand there any longer.
With one last glance towards the approaching zombies, Claire turned and ran, her mind racing as she struggled to remember the street layouts of Raccoon City. She nearly ran into the back of a female zombie that was just standing amidst the chaos the city was engulfed in, and narrowly dodged it as the ghoul whirled around, arms flying out as it screeched in hunger. Spotting the burned out remains of the diner 'Emmy's' ahead, vaguely remembering all the times she would eat there with Chris on her visits, the younger Redfield realized she was on Bybee, and the police station was just around the corner.
Spotting an alley she could cut through, Claire raced for it, ignoring the zombies behind her, and the ones mindlessly ambling around the street, some banging on cars, others simply standing in one place and swaying on their rotting legs. As she cut through the alley, passing a large steel garbage dumpster with its corner in flames, the young woman fought back a scream of fright when a corpse laying in the flames weakly lunged for her with a pathetic moan.
"It's like the end of the world..." she whispered to herself, her right hand reaching down to her hip, where a small holster rested.
She had brought the small pistol, a .38 SLS 60 revolver - a gift from Chris - mostly to alleviate Elza's worries, but it only held five rounds, and she only had few extra cartridges in her pouch. When she first slipped it into its holster, she had felt a little better with its weight against her hip. Now it felt useless against the seemingly unending waves of walking dead that she knew had once been Raccoon's population.
What happened here?! What caused this?! her mind demanded to know, but there was no time to ponder.
The young woman raced down the steps, and then up another, arriving just outside the Raccoon City Police Department...
And upon seeing the dozens of ruined cars piled outside it, alongside a blood-stained school bus, Claire nearly lost hope.
But when she saw that most of the station's lights were still on, she remembered her earlier determination. That there would be survivors. That someone in there could provide her with much-needed answers to this disaster, and, most important of all, confirmation that her brother was still alive and safe.
Steeling herself, Claire raced through the open path between all the vehicles, dodging past a rather rotund zombie that shuffled slowly by her, and ignored the ghoul that fell from one of the windows of the school bus, collapsing on the pavement with a wet, fleshy *thump.* There were several more zombies standing in front of the gates of the police station, but as luck would have it - if you could really even call it that - most of them were too preoccupied with messily devouring a limp body a few feet away, with only one standing by itself, its rotting body swaying as if it was struggling to stay upright.
Claire made one last mad dash for the gates, praying they would be unlocked. She dodged past the swaying zombie as it turned quickly and made a lunge for her with a furious snarl, the college girl nearly screaming again when she jumped over an upper torso with no legs, and the corpse's arm snatched out for her ankle, missing by bare centimeters.
The young woman slammed into the gate, and found her prayers answered as the steel doors swung open. Scrambling into the courtyard, the auburn-haired biker girl whirled around, pushing with all her strength against the doors, and slamming them closed. She then shoved the iron bar lock into place just as the swarm of undead reached them, their gray, rotting arms reaching through the gaps in the gates for her. But the younger Redfield backed several steps up, her breath coming out in short gasps, her face flushed, and finding the ice-cold rainwater somewhat relieving.
Taking Track & Field this semester had probably saved her life, and she would never complain about running a course again if she lived through this horrible night. Steadying herself, easing her rapid inhales into shorter, longer breaths, and willing her racing heart to slow, Claire turned away from the moaning, snarling zombies still desperately reaching out for her. The gates were old but strong, and made of steel. Same with the fence that surrounded the station. It should have no trouble keeping the flesh-eaters at bay-
-the girl froze when she saw the first white body bag laying limply on the ground just outside the station's wooden double doors. The first of many. At least over half a dozen of the body bags littered the courtyard, the two open doorways into the east and west courtyards blocked off by several sturdy-looking wooden planks.
Claire swallowed, her throat dry once more.
Casualties from this outbreak. Maybe they closed those paths off because some of the zombies got in before they could secure the front?...
Her rationalizing failed to alleviate her anxiety.
If they had casualties and needed to block off the courtyards, things weren't looking good. The fact that the front gate was simply left unlocked may have saved her life, but strongly indicated that the station wasn't as safe as she had hoped.
Still more safer-looking than these streets, she reasoned. It felt like a poor excuse, but she couldn't stand being outside any longer.
Inhaling deeply, Claire steeled herself once more, and walked towards the double doors of the police station. Standing before them, she reached out and grasped the handle of the right door, turning it, and pushing it open. She stepped inside the station, and felt her hopes soar...
Only to plummet.
The main hall of the station had been converted into a relief center, with several hospital stretchers laid out, along with boxes of medical supplies, and various other items...
The few stretchers still standing had bloodstains all over them, and most of the food and medical supply boxes had been raided and knocked over. Blood covered the floor, with multiple footprints trailing through it.
The hall was empty, however. The station still had power, as all the lights were still on, but there wasn't a single living person in sight...
Or unliving.
"...Hello?" Claire called, her voice just barely above a whisper.
Only silence met her.
And nothing more.
Welcome to the world of survival horror, Claire!
And welcome, readers, to a fic I've wanted to indulge in for YEARS. DMCV and the RE2 remake finally gave me the inspiration and motivation to write it out.
Shoutout and MASSIVE credit to Da-Awesom-One for beta reading for me on this story and making it way better than it should be. If you like Devil May Cry crossing over with Final Fantasy XIII, go check out his story Devil Fantasy XIII, seriously, it's a REALLY good one.
Big thanks to Hotshot6, LumiaDawn, Nitrus7 Incensedbus87, Johan Phantom, Okami Princess, Player089, Shadowstarthelovable, SilverWanderer17, Tiger2014, WOLFWATCHER12, kyudoran, riosdaniel753, sgolek1, and spencermatthew019 for favoriting, following, and reviewing.
