Chapter Three: Good Company
"So nobody knows what caused this?"
No sooner had Marvin led her to the base of the Goddess Statue overlooking the R.P.D.'s Main Hall, where a few surgical curtains and benches were situated around a small table, did Claire ask the question burning in her mind from the moment she had seen the horror consuming Raccoon City alive: How did this happen?
The officer had sat down on the bench pulled closest to a small table, where he could peer into the laptop he had moved from the front desk, leaving the young woman to stand idly by. Her hands moved reflexively as she drew her small revolver, breaking the cylinder open to let the expended cartridges slip out with a few soft *clinks* as they struck the linoleum floor below. As she reloaded her weapon, letting the familiar motions calm her rattled nerves from the close encounter with the literal jaws of death only moments ago, Marvin finally replied, still looking at the laptop, but inclining his head towards her as he spoke.
"There's a lot of theories..."
To that, Claire resisted the urge to let out a frustrated groan.
Gee, feel like sharing any of them? her mind scathingly retorted, but the young woman bit her tongue.
This man had saved her life, and he was already badly banged up, by the looks of it. He didn't need her sarcasm, especially now. The college girl was suddenly thankful Tony wasn't there, because he was NEVER one to bite back the chance for a sarcastic retort.
Swallowing quietly, loading the last bullet into her revolver, she prayed that her wayward companion was either close to finding his way to the station, or already here, in one of the back areas inside, alive and safe. Not by much, but at least no longer on the streets with the undead on the tail of his coat.
"But all I know for sure is that this place is crawling with zombies," the older man continued, turning to face Claire as she holstered her .38.
With his right arm, Marvin held his hand out towards her, and the girl saw he was holding a small handheld radio. Reaching out to meet him halfway, she took the small black object, noting its significant heft despite its size.
As she fiddled with the radio's power dial, she murmured, "Yeah. You're telling me..."
"Hey, hey, keep that on... Just in case," the injured cop pressed before looking back at the laptop, picking up the small notebook she had taken from the other officer, Elliot.
Continuing to look over the radio as she familiarized herself with it, Claire replied with optimism she wasn't sure was entirely genuine. "I'm not gonna be around long. Once I find Chris, we're outta here."
It sounded simple enough, as long as you left out the swarm of hungry undead waiting just outside the station's front gates...
Looking away from the notebook, Marvin favored her with a curious look.
"...You're really Chris's sister?" he inquired gently, brow raised.
Looking up as she finished hooking the radio onto her belt, the youngest Redfield sibling met the officer's gaze, and saw something in his expression that made her body tense up.
"Yeah," she confirmed, trying to keep the sudden, desperate hope from leaking into her voice before inquiring further. "Why? Do you know something?"
Glancing back at the notebook, Marvin nodded, and Claire's heart froze at his next sentence. "Yeah. He's on vacation... Europe, I think. Left weeks ago."
"...Vacation?" Claire echoed, voice numb.
The man looked back up at her, his brow furrowing at her strained expression as she struggled to process this revelation.
Europe?! Weeks ago?!
"That's... That's great news," she managed, even as her mind struggled over this latest development.
Vacation. Chris was on vacation... In Europe, of all places. Halfway across the world, as far as he could possibly be from the nightmare Raccoon City had become. Her prior concerns for his safety now seemed utterly pointless.
I came all this way for nothing... And Tony followed me. I dragged both of us into this hell on Earth the city's become. And even if we somehow get out of here alive, I'll be no closer to finding Chris than I was before...
Marvin's voice pulled Claire back to reality, and away from her useless self-pity. "Well, I've got more for you..." The officer was back on the pages she had found the drawings in, his bloodied fingers tracing the thin lines of ink as he spoke. "Looks like there might be a way out through this secret passageway..."
The policeman extended his hand out, allowing her to take the notebook back. The young woman suppressed a grimace at the bloody fingerprints left behind by him, the older man suddenly gasping and groaning as he clutched at his wound, his eyes scrunching closed, jaw grinding down as if he was vainly trying to keep himself from screaming in the horrible pain he was no doubt in.
Quickly stuffing the notebook back in her hip pouch, Claire moved closer to the officer, speaking gently as she did. "Hey... Hey, we should probably get you to a hospital."
There were plenty of medical supply boxes left scattered about in the Main Hall, but the young college student knew next to nothing about even basic first aid, though judging by the size of the wound and the amount of blood he'd probably lost, he would need a hospital if he had any hope of surviving.
Marvin shook his head fiercely, managing to reply with obvious effort. "Oh, no; forget about me. I can take care of myself."
Incredulous, Claire stepped back, standing straight as she firmly shook her head. "No, don't be ridiculous, you're gonna need some help-"
"Listen, Claire." Marvin rounded his gaze to meet hers, his eyes firm and unwavering, silencing her instantly. "Save yourself... So you can see your brother again."
The officer winced again, the effort of speaking over the younger woman seeming to drain what little strength he was able to summon. Inhaling deeply, Marvin extended his arm out, pointing towards the stairs past the Goddess Statue.
"Now, I need you to go up to the second floor, and go straight for the Lion Statue just up these stairs."
Claire blinked, confused by the man's sudden instruction. "What? Why do you-"
"Trust me," he interjected with another pained grimace. "When you see the statue, look in Elliot's notebook. You'll find the first key we need to open that secret passage under the statue here."
Unsure, but complying with a nod, Claire turned around and started up the stairs, arriving at the second floor in moments. She spotted the Lion Statue her new companion had spoken of: a towering, aged, bronze beast looming over her, mouth open in a fierce snarl, one massive paw raised atop a large shield. The statue was surrounded on both sides by large piles of various furniture, and other objects for whatever reason, and the young college student stepped closer to better study the statue.
As she approached it, she noticed at the base of the statue, where the lion stood atop the pedestal, were three slots made of marble, two of them bearing the image of dual-faced fishes, and a bow and arrow on the last. Frowning, Claire reached down to touch one of the slots, and to her surprise, she felt it give way slightly, moving as she dragged the flat of her finger over it. Blinking, she pulled her hand back, reaching for her hip pouch for the notebook as Marvin had told her to do.
"What in the world?... Why is something like this in a police station?" she asked herself, her voice just above a whisper.
Flipping through the pages of the notebook, she found the drawing of the Goddess Statue depicting the secret passageway out of the station, and turned the page. The young woman's grey blue eyes blinked before widening in shock at what she saw on the two pages.
Three more drawings, depicting a maiden holding a water jug, a unicorn with a hoof atop another shield, and the very Lion Statue she now stood in front of. Colored in the maiden's abdomen and in the centers of the shields of both unicorn and lion were red circles. Under each of the drawings were oblong boxes depicting different symbols, three in each one.
Realization struck Claire instantaneously. Still holding the notebook with her left hand, the young woman reached out with her right, placing her index and middle finger on the left slot of the lion statue. Dragging them down, she watched in amazement as the slot rolled over, turning the fish head into a maiden's, followed by a bird's, then finally a lion's head, matching the one drawn in the notebook.
That sight made her fingers move faster over the center one, turning it from a from a fish head to a reef, and the last from bow and arrow to eagle with outstretched wings, both matching the symbols drawn in the notebook. No sooner had she finished turning the last slot to its appropriate spot did Claire hear a heavy metallic *click* inches away from her. Snapping her gaze up, she watched in astonishment as the front of the lion's shield slid away, revealing a copper medallion, with a roaring lion's face engraved at its center, the size of her palm.
Gingerly, believing it might somehow slip away if she grabbed it too hastily, the young woman pulled the heavy item out of the shield, staring at in disbelief. Looking from the medallion back to the notebook, it finally hit Claire that the red circles were meant to represent one of the very medallions she was now holding.
Once she had all three, they could get out of the station!
But... that means there's still two more... They could be anywhere in this station. Anywhere at all.
The Raccoon City Police Station was a huge building with three floors, and dozens of rooms on a single floor alone. The other medallions could be anywhere in the station. Despair loomed over Claire for a moment, but another thought quickly banished it.
Marvin. He knew about this one, so he might know where the other two are, the rational part of her mind reasoned, prevailing over her earlier despair.
With that thought, she quickly placed the notebook back in her pouch, and made her way back down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Marvin was still sitting down, hunched over slightly, a slight sweat now beading his forehead. When Claire finished descending the stairs, he looked in her direction, but said nothing.
Staying silent herself, the girl walked in front of the Goddess Statue, and in seconds, found what she was looking for. Three open indentations at the base of the statue itself, at level with the young woman's face. Raising her right hand up, she slipped the Lion Medallion into the open slot on the right.
The heavy medal fit perfectly in the hole with a soft metallic *clink.* A loud sound of shifting stone broke the quiet calm of the hall. Flinching and stepping back, Claire watched with wide eyes as the very base of the Goddess Statue sunk into the floor with a kick-up of dust, exposing a row of metal bars, through which she could see a gated door waiting only a few feet away, but blocked off for the moment.
Behind her, Marvin breathed a sigh of relief, his pained expression melting away into a small smile. "So Elliot was right..." he mused aloud.
"Yeah," Claire nodded in affirmation before turning to face the wounded officer. "But we're not out of here yet. Do you know where the other two statues are?"
Marvin nodded, reaching out with his left hand to tap a few keys on the laptop's keyboard. With a slight jerk of his head, he bade Claire over, the young woman complying by stepping closer, her view drawn to the glowing screen. Once again, a map of the station was up on the display, depicted by blue boxes surrounded by white lines. The officer raised a single bloodstained finger, pointing towards the largest box on the left side of the map.
"From the Library here, you can go to the Lounge..." He lowered his finger to a smaller box just under the library, "here. The Unicorn Statue is right there, and that's where the next medallion is."
"The last statue, the Maiden..." He pressed a key on the laptop and the map switched to a new diagram, this one depicting much larger blocks than the previous, but fewer in number, "is here." Marvin once more pointed towards the left side of the map, at a very large room surrounded by thinner, longer boxes on the map. "In the West Storage Room, where we've stored some of the displays from the station's museum days."
At that, the collegiate girl blinked, momentarily surprised by this little unusual fact. "Wait, the police station used to be a museum?"
At her confusion, Marvin chuckled, though it sounded slightly pained, his grip on his wound spasming slightly. "Still is, to an extent, with the amount of art the chief wasted our budget on..."
Claire's expression went from confused to incredulous. "Who turns a museum into a police station?" she asked, looking at the police officer.
He only shrugged, saying nothing else, and leaving the question in the air. Deciding she'd focus on that particular tidbit later, the younger biker girl turned her attention back to the laptop map, looking at the box representing the West Storage Room.
"So, my best route is to head for the Library. And if I'm reading this map right..." Her grey-blue eyes turned upward, her head craning back as she peered up at the balcony walkway just overhead, directly above both of them. "There should be a door leading to the Library right up there."
Marvin nodded, grimacing as he did. "You're right. Unfortunately, that door to the Library is locked."
The woman blinked, looking away from the computer and back at Marvin. "Locked? Why's it locked? Don't you have a key?"
The cop shook his head, his face twitching as he fought the urge to let another painful spasm wrack his aching body. He closed his eyes, and inhaled harshly.
Fresh sweat dotted his forehead as he inhaled sharply before replying, his voice leveled but strained. "We had to seal off... certain areas of the station once the... zombies got inside. A number of doors that needed the... the special keys... were closed off, keeping the dead away... from the living."
Claire listened silently, her brow furrowing, eyes filled with concern as she watched the man struggle to just explain.
The officer inhaled deeply once again, seeming to regain his composure, and opened his eyes to meet hers as he continued. "There was only a dozen or so of those doors, though, so we locked some of the others with chains, or barricaded certain hallways... They didn't do much, but they held back the dead, and that was all that mattered. You're gonna have to take the long way to get to the Library. You'll need to head to the West Wing through the second floor hallway, and... and then cut down the corridor, by the showers... But I... I can't guarantee you won't run into trouble."
Clutching his bloody side with his left arm, Marvin pushed himself back onto his feet, still hunching over as his right hand grasped something from the bench he had been sitting on. "Now... you'll probably need this."
He extended his hand out, and Claire saw he was holding a long combat knife, back handle sticking out as it was still in its sheathe. The girl shook her head, taking a step back as the officer tried to move it closer to her. She had her own weapon; she wasn't about to deprive Marvin of one he may need later.
"No, I'm not taking that. You're gonna need-"
"Shhhh..." The older man gently hushed her, stepping closer, and slipping the knife into her hand before she could protest or move away.
Meeting her eyes, the intensity she saw in them kept her quiet as the officer continued. "And be careful... If you see one of those things - no matter who they were - you can't hesitate," he stressed, eyes closing as he shook his head before going on. "Take 'em out if you can... or you run."
With that ominous warning delivered, it seemed to use up all of Marvin's remaining strength. He collapsed back down onto the bench with a pained shudder and gasp, his inhales deep, but strained, his face twisted with agony as his eyes snapped closed. His grip on his wound tightened in a seemingly futile effort to relieve the pain consuming him. Claire took another step back, the knife still held in her right hand, her eyes watching the policeman with a mixture of worry and helpless pity. As the officer got his breathing under control - along with the pain, it seemed - she squared her shoulders, and took a deep breath of her own.
She couldn't afford to waste anymore time. She had to find those medallions, and get them both out of here. With that, she slipped the knife's sheathe onto her belt just below the small of her back, the handle just a few centimeters away from her revolver's holster for a quick and easy grab.
Turning ahead, Claire looked back at Marvin one final time. His brown eyes met hers, and he nodded once. That was all she needed.
Returning the nod, the young college student moved ahead, her footsteps quiet in the massive hall. Heading for the entrance to the station's West Wing, Claire saw that the barred gate for this way was down as well, the large metal box containing the switch to raise and lower it wrapped in dull yellow electric tape.
Well, even if Marvin had kept the knife, she wouldn't have gotten far without it.
Unsheathing the short, sharp blade, the girl slipped the tip in between the gap of the box's cover meeting the edge, and deftly slid it down, sheering right through the tape like paper. Pulling the cover open, she yanked the large switch down with a hard pull. The dim red light turned a bright green with a cheery *beep,* and then the heavy metal gate began retracting upward.
Slipping under the gate once it was halfway up, Claire found herself in the Reception Room separated from the office by a glass window. From what she could see through the window, it was too dark to make out much besides the officers' desks, and nothing was moving in the heavy shadows, alive or undead. Moving ahead, she rounded the corner just behind a wooden display stand-
-and came to a dead stop when she saw the heavy splashes of blood on the floor... and the long, jagged gashes on the wall. The blood she was getting used to, as horrible as that sounded, but those long, ragged scratches on the wall... Those were new. Approaching the wall, Claire raised her fingers to trace the deep gashes.
"Did the zombies do this... or something else?" she wondered aloud in a faint whisper.
Walking corpses eager to eat her flesh was one thing. Something with claws long enough and sharp enough to leave cuts like this was something she didn't want to even think about, much less run into. Forcing her eyes away from the claw marks, Claire moved towards the door only a few steps away.
Turning the knob, she opened the door, stepping into another long hallway plunged in darkness. Pulling out the flashlight she had found, Redfield turned it on, sweeping the beam around. Nothing of importance caught her eye. Only a lone radiator, and a pulley cart filled with more boxes.
Advancing forward, she almost started for the open hallway to her right, only to see it was blocked off by more chairs, and other heavy objects barring her off. Facing forward, the young woman resumed her trek, her steps light, making as little noise as possible just in case something was lurking around the upcoming turn. As she advanced, her light's beam swept over more boarded windows, and another cop's body slumped against the left wall-
-when a faint crackling caught her attention. Stopping, Claire listened for a moment, inclining her head just a bit closer. Over the hissing pop of crackles, she could just make out words.
"This is 73-Bird – for rescue."
Blinking, she moved closer to the officer's body, the hissing crackles growing louder, words sometimes rising through the static like noise.
"-heading east- River."
As she began to crouch down to get a better look at the body, the woman saw a radio hooked on the front of his uniform... and blood all over his face. Frowning, she leaned closer, her attention entirely on the corpse now, no longer really paying attention to the radio transmission.
"Touchdown at R.P.D. – minutes."
The voice on the radio started to repeat the message, but by that point Claire's attention was entirely on the face of the dead cop. Switching the flashlight to her right hand, with her left she grasped his forehead, the skin ice cold and clammy, and pushed the head up and back. The limp skull rolled under her touch, blood dripping from between his open jaws... which had been unnaturally sliced to ribbons, along with most of his neck, exposing red, slimy sinew of tendons barely holding together, the dead man's mouth cut almost completely open from ear to ear.
Disgust and pity roiled through the young woman, not to mention nausea at the overpowering smell of blood and rot.
"Oh, god! Poor guy..." she whispered, looking into his filmy eyes before pulling her hand back, hastily wiping it against her shorts to get the lingering feel of his cold skin off-
-when she heard something, a soft sound of movement, followed by something metallic rolling.
Gasping a surprised "What?!" Claire snapped around, back on her feet in a split-second, her flashlight sweeping down the hallway, towards the origin of the sound.
"Who's there?!" she demanded.
Silence, save for the fading crackle of the dead man's radio.
Claire's eyes searched for the source of the sound, or for anything that could have made the noise. She nearly did a double-take when she saw another cop's body seemingly hanging from nothing in midair. When she risked a glance upwards, she regretted it almost immediately upon seeing the poor bastard wasn't hanging... his entire mouth hung open, a long, broken support pole jammed through it... from behind.
Looking away, fighting the urge to vomit, the young woman drew her revolver, leveling it out with her flashlight, and started forward. Easing around the dangling body's legs, the college student saw a door to her right. Slipping her flashlight at the junction where her neck and shoulder met, she reached out for the handle. To her disappointment, she found it locked... but then her eyes narrowed when she spotted the elaborate green club insignia above the lock.
Is this one of those doors Marvin was talking about? she wondered, before gripping the flashlight and turning forward again, revolver half-way raised. One thing at a time, and she needed to find whatever made that sound.
Moving forward again, Redfield made her way towards the open junction of the hallway, passing more boxes as she did... and noting more claw-like markings along the wall. These ones were cleaner-looking, three long gashes mere centimeters apart. Swallowing, suddenly feeling colder, the young woman tensed for a moment, before making a quick dash, revolver snapping up-
-and finding nothing, save for more wooden boards over an open window, cool rain splashing onto the floor. Blinking, Claire lowered her gun, shivering again as a sudden strong breeze slipped through the gaps in the boards... and felt something brush against her boot. Yelping, the girl flinched back, gun aiming down... and resisted the urge to slap herself.
It was just an empty tin can, which explained the earlier sound. The wind had blown over it, causing it to roll and rattle across the floor. She was the only thing in the hall as far as she could see.
Exhaling heavily, urging her racing heart and rattled nerves to calm down, Claire peered down the long corridor, seeing another right-hand turn several feet away. Advancing, she continued onward, passing more boarded windows wrapped with yellow 'Do Not Cross' police tape, some with the glass intact, others broken, her boots crushing various shards as she made her way ahead. As she neared the end of the corridor, the youngest Redfield realized it was just a little bit brighter now, and spotted a working streetlight just outside the boarded window in front of her-
-with the light being partially cut off as a zombie, a woman with short brown hair wearing a white dress shirt stained with blood, rounded from nowhere, slamming its rotting hands against the glass with a hungry growl, its clouded eyes locked on the college girl. Giving the ghoul a glare, Claire turned away from it, ignoring the continued beating of rotting flesh against glass as she walked away from it. Passing two broken windows with bent bars over them, rainwater having made a puddle on the floor, the young biker was aggravated to discover another impromptu barricade between herself and where she needed to go.
A glance to her right revealed a set of red double doors. Checking the handle, she was relieved to find that these were unlocked, and opened one, stepping out of the cold corridor, and into the new, larger room. As she was about to close the door behind her, Claire froze when she heard glass shattering, followed by the enraged snarling of the woman zombie as her arms desperately clawed out from the gaps of the wooden boards, her bloody fingers grasping at nothing but empty air.
"...Thank god they can't get past everything," she muttered to herself, closing the door, and cutting off the sound of the zombie's hungry groans.
Turning away from the doors, she took the new room in. It was a large, open space, with dozens of chairs situated about, some vending machines in the corner to her right, a table not too far away from them with dozens of papers scattered across it, along with an old coffee maker, a green chalkboard set in front of all the chairs with more tables, an American flag hanging off the wall, and another door to the board's right, just past another potted fern and the table. She quickly concluded it was a meeting or operations room of the R.P.D.'s officers. Claire was half-tempted to route through the papers for more information on the outbreak, but resisted. She wouldn't be doing her eyes any favors squinting in the dark with only a flashlight for illumination.
Moving towards the door, Claire stopped just as she was arm's length from it, sighing in aggravation when she saw another chain was wrapped around the door handle, preventing her from opening it.
"Great," she muttered, looking around the room and seeing no other way out save the doors she had come through. "Now what?"
With a sigh, she rubbed her forehead, the mounting frustrations threatening to give her a headache. She briefly contemplated trying to remove some of the blockage from one of the blockades, but decided against it, noting it would take too long, and the whole thing could fall on top of her. And if she was incapacitated or killed, what good would she be to Marvin then?
Claire spared another glance at the chained door, wondering if she should try shooting one of the links off to break the whole thing, though she recalled Chris' warning of such a thing, her brother having once explained that despite what movies and TV had taught her, shooting a lock was the last thing you should consider, since the bullet could ricochet back on the shooter.
She was just about to draw her revolver and risk it when she happened to notice a faint line of light to her left, just out of the corner of her eye. Turning and looking up, the college student couldn't resist the smile that curled on her lips when she spotted an open window just above a stack of crates, a loose piece of yellow police tape hanging down. With a quick climb onto the crates, and then a heft and a pull, the girl managed to slip up and around, letting herself fall onto her feet without too much trouble.
Claire found herself on the opposite side of the barricade that had forced her into the operations room. She wrinkled her nose, and fought down a disgusted groan when she spotted the splattering trail of blood leading to the lone body just next to the pile of furniture and other objects used to block the turn. Turning away from it, the young woman peered ahead-
-and froze where she stood when she saw a rather heavyset zombie in an officer's uniform mindlessly slamming its blood-soaked hands against another vending machine, the one across from it still working and glowing brightly, explaining the light, while bathing the undead in pale, eerie brightness that only seemed to make its gray pallor somehow slimier-looking. Swallowing, Claire risked a step back, eyes never leaving the zombie as it continued to beat on the machine like an irate customer who's snack hung ever so slightly on the hook. It would have been funnier if wasn't for the fact that if the undead spotted her, it would most definitely try to snack on her instead.
The young crack shot drew her revolver from its holster, but didn't raise it, as she was hesitant to try shooting the zombie from where she was, which was a good twenty-plus feet. She wasn't a certified sharpshooter like Chris or Tony, not to mention she was down to five bullets, so she really couldn't afford to waste the ammo. The college girl stood there for several moments, indecisive, but never taking her eyes off the ghoul.
Finally, she came to a decision. A risky one.
It's completely focused on the vending machine. If I move quickly but quietly, I can probably sneak past it.
Sounded simple enough. Now she just had to convince her feet to move. After a deep inhale and exhale, Claire managed to finally get herself moving, taking each step just slow enough to not make any loud footsteps, but also just quick enough to where she wasn't inching at a snail's pace. The zombie never once even paused in its mindless beating of the vending machine, allowing the young woman to round the corner, her advancement slowing just enough to note another bloody cop's body on the ground just by the door to the office she had passed by on her way to the other side.
When she finally rounded the corner and arrived into a large open hallway where she saw some stairs up ahead, the girl allowed herself to move just a bit faster, ignoring yet another zombie that was beating on a barred window. Stopping at the base of the stairs, Claire spied another door under the stairway to her right, and made a dash for it, finding it unlocked, much to her relief. She slipped inside, turning the lock as soon as she closed the door behind her. With a sigh, she sagged against it, running a hand through her hair as she willed her racing heart to slow.
If the zombies don't get me, all this tension will. Jesus... And here I used to make fun of the characters in zombie movies for panicking so easily.
Late night creature-features hadn't prepared her for anything like this. But she was almost there. She just had to go up the stairs, and she'd be on her way to the medallions. Claire decided she would stay in this small room for another moment to catch her breath. The young college student holstered her revolver, but stilled her hand when she felt the back of her palm brush the radio.
Unhooking it from her belt, Claire studied the handheld walkie-talkie, wondering if she should check in with Marvin. She needed to let him rest and conserve his strength, but she also needed more information if she meant to go any further.
With that decided, she pressed down on the transmit button, speaking into the communicator. "Marvin, you there? It's Claire, over."
She released the button, prompting a crackle of static. The collegiate girl waited for a beat that seemed to stretch on for too long.
But to her relief, the radio crackled again before the policeman's voice filtered through. "I'm here, Claire. What's the sitrep, over?"
Exhaling in relief, the woman responded, "I'm in a small room just under the stairs to the second floor in the West Wing. I've only seen a few zombies, mostly from outside banging on the windows, but I managed to give one the slip just outside the office. I'm trying to conserve ammo. Where do I go from here, over?"
Another hissing crackle, a slightly longer pause before the officer replied. "You're in the dark room where we- where we used to process photographic evidence. All you'll need to do from there is go up the stairs, and head for the door just past the steps going up to the third floor. From that door, head straight, and you'll be in the upper West Wing. Just walk straight for a bit, hook a left, and you'll see the door to the lounge where the Unicorn Statue is. There'll be another door to the statue's left that'll get you into the library, where you'll just need to go up the stairs, and head for the farthest door on the left side to get into the storeroom... If you want, you can even stop by the S.T.A.R.S. Office on your way over there, and pick up that letter Chris sent to Jill. Over."
Claire blinked, her grey-blue eyes widening.
A letter? Chris sent a letter?!
"Chris sent a letter? Does the envelope still have the return address on it?!... Uh, over?" she hastily asked, barely remembering proper radio etiquette in her sudden excitement.
A shorter pause, before Marvin's voice broke through the hiss of radio static. "Should be, unless Valentine threw it away... Hey, I just remembered. If you're hurting for ammo, there should be a box of nine millimeter rounds in one of the lockers in that room you're in. Contact me again if you need anything else. Over and out."
The young woman nodded, responding, "10-4. Thanks, Marvin. See you soon. Over and out."
With that done, the girl slipped the radio back onto her belt before feeling around the wall, her fingers pressing down on a light switch, illuminating the dark room, and letting her see better. Indeed, to her immediate right was a set of steel gray lockers, just a few feet from a desk covered in photo processing materials. Opening the first locker, Claire smiled when she saw the familiar sight of a small red box of handgun ammo.
Snatching it up, she rattled the box lightly, her smile falling when she only heard and felt a light rattling. Walking over to the desk, she slid the flaps of the box open and poured it out to the side. A handful of parabellum rounds spilled out, and a quick count gave her a total of ten extra rounds.
"Better than nothing... Not that I have any right to complain. I'm lucky there's even a single spare bullet left in this place..." she concluded, carefully putting the rounds in her side pouch.
Redrawing her revolver, squaring her shoulders and inhaling deeply, Claire unlocked the door and stepped back outside into the stairway. The young crack shot found her nose crinkling again. The smell of blood, decay, and rot was everywhere in the station, but the dark room she had just been in hadn't smelled as bad as the rest of the West Wing. It wasn't necessarily fresh air, but it was not as tainted as the air outside of it. Exhaling and slowly inhaling through her mouth, Redfield made for the stairs, not even reacting when the ghoul beating on the window snarled hungrily, the glass beginning to crack from its strikes.
As soon as she cleared the flight, taking the steps two at a time, the redhead found another officer's body, this one a woman with dark hair, just as bloody and mutilated-looking as the last one she passed. She paused to look over the corpse, noting the steel shutter blocking the entryway to the left. Remembering Marvin telling her to find the shower room and go straight from there, the young woman moved past the body, planning to keep straight when she heard a gurgling rasp just above her.
Snapping her revolver and flashlight up, Claire spotted another zombie, this one setting its filmy eyes right on her, staggering down the stairs leading from the third floor. Judging by what she could see of its clothes under the gore it was covered it, this zombie had been a civilian, like her. Now it was a lumbering corpse looking for a fresh meal.
"I'm sorry..." she whispered, before squeezing the trigger.
A loud *BAM* came from the revolver, followed by a brief flash of fire issuing from the barrel. The zombie's head snapped back in a spray of blood, the body falling to a heap, limply shuffling down a few steps, its limbs askew.
Claire kept her gun on the corpse, not entirely convinced it was totally dead now, seeing the first zombie she had shot had taken two bullets to the head before seemingly staying down for good. She counted to ten in her head before finally lowering the pistol, but kept her eyes on the corpse as she walked ahead.
When she spotted the lone door just past a cleaner's cart and another locker, as well as the small sign marked 'Men's Locker Room,' Claire started forward... only to stop, her gaze falling on another barricade of various furniture blocking her path to the next hallway. Muttering a curse, she holstered her revolver before grabbing the radio off of her belt, and pressing the transmit button down.
"Marvin? We've got a problem. There's a barricade blocking the way to the Upper Hallway to the Lounge, over." She released the button, and waited for a response.
The walkie crackled and hissed before the policeman's voice filtered through. "Aw, dammit! I completely forgot about that one... I'm sorry, Claire. Over."
Pressing the transmit button again, the young student replied gently, figuring the toll of his injury, plus his obvious exhaustion, had caused that fact to slip from his mind. "It's fine, Marvin. I just need to find another way around... if there is one. Over."
She released the button, looking over the barricade again, once more considering trying to remove the various objects blocking her off when the radio crackled again, Marvin's voice speaking up, his tone both intense... and bewildered.
"Claire, head into the locker room next to you, over."
Blinking, the woman looked at the radio in confusion before inquiring, "The locker room? Why, uh, over?"
Another crackle of static, before the wounded officer replied cryptically, "You need to see this, over."
Giving the walkie another bewildered expression, Claire looked over her shoulder, looking back at the lone door by the custodial cart. With a shrug, she clipped the radio back onto her belt, and did as the man had told her, moving quickly for the door.
Almost instantly upon opening the door, she was besieged by a surge of warm, moist air, accompanied by the familiar patter of showers running, but only just barely hearing the noise over the harsh hissing rush of steam. Stepping into the small locker room, and closing the door behind her, the college girl walked further in, minding the small benches in the center of the room. But upon spotting the source of the sound and warm air in the room, she could only stare in utter bafflement.
"Well, that's... convenient... And weird."
Weird was putting it lightly. Between her and the shower stalls that should have had a solid wall between them, was a smashed wall, obscured by a rushing current of heavy steam. Even from almost four feet away, Claire could feel the heat radiating from the rushing air, and that killed any ideas of just trying to run through it. She would be scalded alive.
Reaching for her radio, the young woman pressed the transmit button again, opening the channel back to Marvin's communicator. "I'm guessing there should be a solid wall, and an un-ruptured boiler in here, right? Over."
A crackle, followed by a pained chuckle from Marvin before he replied. "Yeah, usually. But I noticed it when the camera feed changed. Looks like someone did some demolition without the chief's approval; screw 'im. But it does give you another way to get to that hallway, over."
Claire eyed the intense steam billowing from the busted boiler, cautiously extending the palm of her hand towards it, before quickly yanking the limb back.
"Now we just need to find a way to turn off the steam," she spoke into the radio before her grey-blue eyes fell on a pipe with a missing valve. She pressed down on the transmit button again. "Any chance there's a spare valve lying around somewhere close by? Over."
A beat and a single crackling hiss of static before the cop replied, "No idea, but it can't hurt to check. Look around the third floor. There was some construction getting done up there; renovations. If not a valve, maybe a wrench, or some other kind of tool you can use to turn off the steam. Over."
Giving a quick nod and reply of, "Okay, third floor it is. Over and out," Claire was moving towards the door again. Her hand reached for the handle, giving it a quick turn and a pull-
-letting a wave of decay - an overpowering stench of rotting meat - overcome her as the zombie she had shot earlier lunged for her, its jaws gnashing, spittle flying as it moaned in hunger, its hands snatching her by the shoulders. The pink-vested biker screamed as the corpse's head reared back before snapping forward, its teeth going for her throat-
A sickening crunch of bone punctuated by the slick squish of flesh stopped the zombie mid lunge as Claire jammed the knife Marvin had given her several inches into its temple. With a dying gurgle, the zombie pitched backwards, its body smashing into the janitor's cart, spilling a wet mop and dirty water everywhere, dark clots of blood mixing with it a second later. Gasping harshly, the girl's hand scrambled for her handgun that she instantly thrust out, the shaking barrel mostly centered on the still body.
Wasn't dead! It wasn't dead, and it almost...! It almost...!
Forcing her shaking hand to still, Redfield quickly moved towards the body, leaning and closing her eyes as her free hand grasped the knife's hilt. After a few hard tugs, she yanked the weapon out of the corpse's skull. Disgusted, resisting the urge to vomit once again, the redhead quickly rinsed the blade off in the dirty water, dried it off on one of the few dry spots of the dead man's shirt, and sheathed the blade. She rose back up again quickly, her revolver still locked on the body, though she was almost sure it was dead for good now.
"Too close... Too close..." she whispered to herself.
From now on, she was putting two bullets in the head of every body she saw after this, dead or undead.
With that decided, Claire quickly made for the stairs, barely giving the female cop's body in the far corner a passing glance - Had her arms been by her sides or on her lap when she first saw her? - before making her way up the stairs two at a time, revolver still out as she opened the chamber, expending the two used cartridges for two new bullets.
When she arrived at the top of the stairs, the auburn-haired girl stopped, taking in her new surroundings. It was a long, balcony-styled walkway with more boxes, a long desk, and lockers at the end. Past the lockers was another barricaded wall... but to the right of them, a bright light cast a long shadow of a person's head and chest, the individual in question completely still.
Claire stared at the long shadow, her eyes darting from it to the right side where it was coming from as she slowly approached, pistol out. Stopping once she reached the corner, she inhaled deeply, steadying her arms as best as she could, then quickly rounded around, weapon up and ready to fire-
-before lowering it almost instantly, the young woman blinking, confusion written on her face that quickly became bemused relief.
Inside the room, she found several bookcases lined with heavy tomes, most of them spilled across the floor, and a rather expensive-looking wooden desk where a lit lamp rested. A small mannequin was next to it, having cast the faux shadow of a person standing still.
Claire holstered her revolver, her eyes sweeping over the room as she stepped further in, her gaze lingering on the jagged edges of the wall she passed leading in. It looked like a team of construction workers had torn it down with sledgehammers, but the concrete dust lining the floor and spilled books suggested it had happened recently... Very recently.
Arriving at the desk, the redheaded college girl paused, frowning when she spotted a long metallic object just laying on the center of the desk's top. Picking it up to get a better look, she saw it was an old-styled key, just slightly longer than her middle finger. The most interesting thing about it was the dark green spade design at the very end of it.
Tracing the spade, she wondered aloud, "Fancy-looking key... But what does it go to?"
She remembered Marvin's earlier words about certain doors needing special keys. Someone must have left this one here after locking all the doors it went to. The only door that came to mind for a key like this, though, was that one she had passed with a club insignia etched above the handle. Shrugging, deciding she'd need this key sooner of later, Claire slipped it into her pouch, and turned for the door in the corner when her radio crackled, her fellow survivor's voice rising from the static, sounding just a little worried.
"Claire? Claire, you there? Over."
Unhooking the walkie-talkie from her belt, the girl in question held it up to her mouth, and pressed the transmit button, responding, "I'm here, Marvin. What's up? Over."
A pause, and when the officer spoke again, obvious relief was in his tone. "Lost sight of you in the camera feed when you went up to the third floor... They never got around to installing 'em up there... Where are you? Over."
The young biker girl moved for the door as she responded, "I'm inside some kind of office space. Sorry for worrying you, over."
As she reached for the door handle, Marvin replied, this time sounding confused. "Office? That's impossible. There's nothing but a solid wall between it and the top of that stairway you were on. Over."
Claire shrugged, turning the handle while talking. "Don't know what else to tell you. The wall was smashed when I got up here, but it looks like I can reach that Storage Room where the Maiden Statue's supposed to- What the fuck?!"
The radio dropped with a heavy rattle of metal and plastic meeting wood on the floor below as Redfield stepped into a new, narrow hallway, a lone window at the very end of the opposite wall... where something large, red, and inhuman-looking scuttled across so fast, she almost wondered if she really saw it... Until she heard a growl deeper than any of the zombies' undertoning the sound of shattering glass. The young woman had her revolver out and in front of her as she stood perfectly still, while at her feet, the radio hissed and crackled, Marvin's voice frantically calling out for her.
"Claire?! Claire, what happened?! Claire, respond, dammit!"
Ignoring the wounded officer's voice, Claire kept her handgun out, both hands gripping it so tightly, it shook, her wide eyes locked on the window. But after several pounding heartbeats, nothing else moved, and she quickly bent down to snatch the radio back up, holding it with her left hand while she kept the gun out in her right.
Hitting the transmit button, she spoke quietly into the communicator. "Marvin... I just saw something."
The officer didn't wait for her to elaborate any further before inquiring back, his voice strained. "What? What did you see?"
Unable to look away from the window, the woman spoke again, her voice just barely above whisper. "Something... Something crawled across a window... It was... big, red, and... slimy-looking..."
The radio crackled harshly, making her wince and pull the device back. Marvin's voice managed to break through the static. "Claire, forget about the medallions. You're not safe there. Come back to the Main Hall. We'll figure out what to do once you're back here. Over."
Managing to still her trembling hands, Claire shook her head as she retorted, "No, no, I'm okay, now! It's gone... whatever it was. I've gotta be close to the Library. I'm in a narrow corridor just outside that office space. Just tell me where to go from here. Over."
The radio crackled, the policeman not replying for several beats. And when he finally did, his voice carried both annoyance and impression. "Guess that hard head runs in the family..."
To that, Claire couldn't fight a smile. "Alright."
Marvin went on. "The West Storage Room is just up ahead. You'll find the Maiden Statue in there. From there, there's only one other door: the one to the Library. Just head down to the stairs from there, hook a left, and you'll find the Lounge where the Unicorn Statue is. Over."
She nodded to herself at that, responding and somewhat surprised at the sudden confidence in her voice, "I'll be back with both in five minutes, tops. Over and out."
With that, she slipped the radio back onto her belt, and made her way down the corridor, her revolver only partially lowered, her grey-blue eyes lingering on the window for a moment when she saw faint scratch lines across the glass.
Familiar-looking scratch marks...
Unwilling to linger, just in case whatever the hell that thing was decided to crawl back by, Claire turned left, spotting the door she needed to go through, but paused when she saw a stack of heavy boxes further down. Giving them a quick glance, seeing nothing of interest, the woman reached for the door, gripping the handle, and turning it, stepping inside the storage room. As she entered, she exhaled a heavy breath she hadn't known she was holding, before taking in her new surroundings.
There were dozens of boxes, and several stained white tarps carelessly tossed over various bookcases and other bits of furniture. The smell of mildew and dust was stronger than the ever-present smell of blood and decay, which was something of a relief. Pulling out her flashlight, Claire flicked the lamp on, and swept the beam around, looking for the statue, and anything else that might be useful. Advancing further, the college student resisted a groan of disgust at the sight of huge mounds of mold along one of the walls and headed left, spotting the door to the library between two bookcases... and a dead man hanging limply from the ceiling above, clotted blood staining his shirt and face.
Moving past the body - nearly screaming when it suddenly shifted and fell a little ways, legs somehow managing to hang on to the ceiling above - Claire made her way into the deeper part of the storage room, and found her steps slowing when she saw a series of metal-barred fences between her... and the Maiden Statue.
Lowering her flashlight with an aggravated sigh, the young woman walked closer, peering closely at the bars, looking for a gap just wide enough for her to squeeze through. Her eyes lingered on the two bodies inside the gated area, noting that they were covered in blood, and what little exposed skin she could see had long slashing marks on both of them. Frowning, she dragged her light over to the back of the room, before her beam found solid wooden boards blocking the only open space between her and the gates.
Approaching the bars, Claire blinked when she saw what looked like two long pieces of modelling clay wrapped in plastic, held against the boards by yellow electric tape. Peering closely at them, the crack shot's eyes widened when she realized these were not clay bricks at all when she spotted one letter and a number printed on the plastic. A letter and number she never wanted to see side-by-side. She took several steps back, the flashlight beam still on the bricks.
The very dangerous C4 bricks.
Why the hell would someone put C4 inside a police station?! Where the hell did they even find it-
Her train of thought was interrupted when her backside collided with something solid. Whirling around, the young woman saw she had backed up into a small table, where a sheet of paper was laying next to a small nylon pack. Blinking, Claire picked up the parchment, the flashlight illuminating the scribbled words.
Damn those corporate assholes! They cut me off! After all I've done for them! But if that's how it's gonna be, so be it. I'm gonna have a little fun of my own as the world goes to shit.
I boarded all those filthy pigs up in a steel pen, and set some C4. All I gotta do is detonate it and it's "sayonara, suckers!"
But it's no fun if it's over too soon, so maybe I'll give that one raving loon something to really squeal about.
Yeah, maybe I'll give him a little toy and tell him, "Kill the guy next to you and I'll spare the others." I wonder what he'll do.
You yell about "justice" and "pride" but how many times did you go against me, your own superior?
Yeah, you're such a good cop... So good you had to die.
Man is this fun. I need some music for this.
Claire dropped the scrap of paper as soon as she finished reading the scribbles, her expression one of utter disgust and confusion.
Someone... Someone locked those guys in the pen... and made them kill each other?! And what did he mean by 'corporate assholes?' Superior? Did a cop do this?!
The collegiate woman gave the pen and C4 another look, her eyes wandering over to the statue she could see, with only the steel bars preventing her from recovering the medallion inside it. Looking away, Claire picked up the small nylon pack, and after a minute of fiddling with it, managed to hook it securely to her belt, giving her a little more space to carry anything else she may find. She decided to come back for the Maiden Medallion after she thought of a safe way of removing the explosives, and something to help her tear or cut down the wooden boards blocking the pen's entrance.
She wondered if she could just shoot it from a safe distance, set the plastique off, and get rid of the barricade, but that was even riskier than trying to shoot a locked door. It would delay her and Marvin's escape, but only by so much. Claire decided she would just have to be patient until a solution came to her, or presented itself.
Securing the small pack, she headed back towards the door to the library, minding the hanging body as she did, and stepped out of heavy shadows into bright, yet soft illumination. Blinking rapidly at the sudden light, the young woman found herself on a balcony walkway overlooking the rather large library of the police station... but quickly discovered she wasn't alone.
There was a female zombie standing stiffly across the walkway that led towards the stairs, while a strange series of wet, crunching noises seemed to be emanating from the floor below. A quick glance over the railing confirmed the source of the sounds, and, much to the redhead's disgust, she spied another zombie eagerly tearing into a motionless corpse, tearing chunks of bloody flesh out that it devoured greedily. Looking away, fighting down her rising gorge, Claire raised her revolver, moving closer towards the female zombie to better steady her aim, while keeping her steps just light enough so as to not draw its attention.
Once she was halfway across the balcony, Redfield felt she was close enough, and squeezed the trigger twice. Two *bangs* came one after another, the two bullets slamming into the back of the zombie's skull, sending blood, bits of bone, and brain matter, along with long clumps of the woman's limp blonde hair, splattering over the green-painted walls, and a few unlucky shelves of books.
No sooner had she lowered her weapon did her radio suddenly crackle, Marvin's voice filtering through. "Claire, it's Marvin. How fast can you get back here?"
She blinked at both the question and the cop's tone of voice. He didn't sound panicked or urgent. If anything, he seemed distracted, as if his focus was on something else.
Removing her radio from her belt, and holding it up to her mouth as she held down the transmission button, the college girl inquired, "Why? What's up?"
Another hiss of static passed before the officer cryptically replied, "I've got something to show you. It's important."
Now she was deeply intrigued, since she had no idea what could possibly be so important that she had to drop her search for the medallions that would lead them to a potential escape route. But Claire recalled Marvin pointing out that there would be a door in the Library that could take her right back to the Main Hall. She'd pick up the other medallion, and be on her way back in two minutes.
Nodding, she responded into the radio "Alright, I'm on my way," before hooking it back onto her belt.
Moving a bit quicker, she headed for the stairs, giving the female zombie's body a quick kick to confirm it was truly dead, the corpse limply rolling with the hit to her satisfaction. Taking the stairs two at a time, she arrived by a series of tables with books and papers scattered over their surfaces, two male officers' bodies laying sprawled across the floor, their faces and necks ravaged, what little pale skin she could see covered in gore.
A quick glance behind her confirmed her exit back to the Main Hall, with a rather heavyset man's corpse laying against a smaller desk table, head low. Deciding to let the zombie still gorging itself behind the towering shelves on the room's other side alone, Claire reached for the closer door, turning the handle, and pushing it open, letting herself into the small lounge where the large statue of a unicorn sculpted from dull pink marble waited.
Smiling, Claire Redfield uttered, "Paydirt."
With that, she closed the door behind her, and walked towards the statue, pulling out Elliot's notebook as she did, flipping to the page with the proper symbols needed to unlock her prize. A few quick turns of the slots to a double-sided fish head, a scorpion, and then something that resembled a blowing breeze or rolling wave, and Claire heard the wonderful sound of metal shifting, and the base of the statue opened partially, allowing her to pull the hand-sized brass medal with the head of a unicorn engraved on its front out.
She couldn't resist the triumphant grin from forming on her lips. "Two down."
One more, and she and Marvin would be kissing this hellhole goodbye-
The young woman's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heavy flesh smacking against wood, breaking her out of her reverie, and causing her to whirl around towards the suddenly shaking door. Quickly shoving the medallion into her pack, Claire drew her revolver just in time as the door burst open, the heavyset zombie she had assumed was another corpse lumbering out. She drew a bead on one of its filmy eyes as they locked onto her, the zombie groaning lowly, and starting to stagger her way.
The biker girl squeezed the trigger once, and the ghoul's head exploded in a shower of bone and blood, much to her surprise. The rotund body, now truly dead, crumpled into a limp heap only a few feet away from her, blood pooling on the marble floor. Strafing for the still-open door, reloading as she did, Claire headed for the other exit, the noisy chewing of the other zombie still echoing out from the doorway, which failed to bother her anymore, since it meant that it was distracted and too content with its meal to come looking for her.
The auburn-haired student reached for the handle when she spotted the familiar intricate design of the lock, this one bearing a green spade insignia this time. Smiling again, rather smugly this time, the collegiate girl reached into her satchel, and produced the Spade Key she had found earlier. The key slipped easily into the opening, and with a single turn, unlocked the door.
Pushing it open, she found herself on the upper balcony of the Main Hall. A quick glance down allowed her to spot Marvin peering intensely at his laptop. Moving at a brisk jog, the young woman quickly made her way towards him, and traversed down the stairs, her clicking boot heels alerting the officer to her presence.
Looking up as she approached, Officer Branagh managed a pained, smile-like grimace, his fingers tapping a few keys as he spoke. "There you are... Come here." He beckoned her closer, hitting another key as the screen changed on the laptop.
Blinking, Claire bent over to get better look as she asked, "What is it?"
"Take a look," he urged, just as she saw what he was indicating, and the young woman felt her heart soar in her chest.
There on the computer screen was another security camera feed, showing a tall man with pale hair wearing a long coat. The colors were muted, but she'd recognize those white locks and the dark coloring she knew instantly to be crimson red.
"Tony! Oh my god, he made it!" she cried out jubilantly.
He was alive! He had kept his word, and found a way to the station, somehow managing to avoid the undead roaming the streets. He was here, and not a moment too soon.
Marvin gave her a curious glance before asking, "You know him?"
Unable to contain her glee, Claire replied, "Yeah! He's Tony! Anthony Redgrave. We met up before coming into town. He's my-"
She stopped, her exuberant happiness melting as she remembered their earlier argument before she had made her decision to come to Raccoon.
"...My friend," she finished lamely, stepping back, her smile falling.
Marvin watched her silently, his pale, sweaty features curious, before turning his gaze back to the camera. "Thought he was the rookie at first... Certainly looks like him..."
He jerked his bloody hand that had been gripping his wound over his shoulder, indicating the upper balcony over them. "You can make it to that courtyard through the second floor, east side."
His words were strained and breathless, and it was clear to Claire that her fellow survivor probably wasn't going to last much longer.
Nodding, giving him a confident smile that she finally felt was sincere, the younger Redfield reassured him, "Okay. Thanks, Marvin, I'm on it."
He nodded absently, letting his head fall back as he exhaled and inhaled heavily while she ran towards the closest set of stairs, practically jumping up them two at a time.
Tony was alive. And with his help, she knew she could get the last medallion, and get all three of them out of this station.
It was almost over, she thought.
She had no idea...
One hour earlier...
"I'LL BE FINE, BABE! NOW GET YOUR SWEET ASS OUTTA HERE, ALREADY!"
Tony could just picture the flustered look on her face, and that was enough to bring his cocky grin back in full force as he turned to face the undead swarm approaching him. There were two that were getting a little too close, and his Beretta was out in a blink of an eye, two shots drastically reshaping their skulls, and sending their bodies to the asphalt in a splash of blood and rainwater. Twirling the handgun on his finger, Redgrave holstered the weapon, knowing he needed to save the bullets.
Smirking, he beckoned the ghouls towards him with open hands and a challenge. "Come and get me!"
The closest zombie made a sudden lunge for him, jaws snapping hungrily as it snarled in rage, but the crimson-coated mercenary deftly sidestepped the creature, his hands snatching out to grasp both sides of its head. A quick twist broke its neck, the corpse crumbling to the ground.
Two more ghouls, standing side-by-side, charged for him, arms out like a sleepwalker's, and the man in red slipped through the gap in-between them, arriving behind their stumbling forms. His gloved hands snatched them by each of their heads, and slammed them together with enough force to cave in the sides of their skulls, sending bone shards into whatever parts of their brain were still working, killing them for good.
The pale-haired youth spun to the side, the flaps of his coat slapping against a staggering female ghoul that groaned stupidly as he vanished from her sight, reappearing in a spin of red several feet away.
"Ole!" he cackled, quickly jerking back as another zombie lunged for him, his boot striking out to kick its limp legs out from underneath, followed by his knee slamming into its chest, and his fist in its face, shattering its nose in a burst of gore.
As the corpse fell into a heap, Tony casually swung a backhand over his shoulder, his gloved palm shattering the jaw of a ghoul that had been prepared to chow down on the junction where his neck and shoulder met.
As much fun as he was having putting these walking corpses down for good, there were still far too many of them closing in for his comfort. He needed to get moving, and find a way to lose them before one got lucky and took a bite out of him. With that decided, Tony charged through the heavily-grouped swarm of undead approaching him, his shoulder tackling into several, knocking many flat on their rears, and a few unlucky ones into the burning flames of the wrecks all around them. The red-coated man dashed down the street, black boots splashing through puddles of rainwater while he frequently leapt over the occasional corpse that tried to get too handsy. He cut down an alleyway free of undead, and made a run through another, arriving by an overturned truck with several red barrels spilling out.
When he spotted the unmistakable fire insignia on their sides, he allowed himself to slide to a halt, his grin returning, only this time with a vicious, cruel gleam sparking in his pale eyes.
Whirling around and drawing his handgun, the clever mercenary was pleased to see his crowd of flesh-eaters had followed him this far, joined by a few more of their rotting friends. They were almost next to the truck of overturned explosive barrels.
Lining his shot, the gunslinger squeezed the trigger, the jacketed round hitting one of the barrels with a soft *ting-*
That vanished in the roar of exploding flames and metal, tearing the zombies to burning chunks of rotten meat and bone, killing all of them for good in a massive burst of fire and steam.
Twirling the handgun again, Tony chuckled lightly, holstering it under his coat again as he quipped, "Sorry, fellas, but I'm just too hot to handle."
Spinning on the heel of his boot, he started looking around for the station Claire had been talking about. He needn't look for long. His pale blue eyes spotted his destination in short order. It was honestly kind of hard to miss.
The building didn't so much resemble an average police station as it did a heavily fortified library or museum, complete with a clock tower rising into the rainy sky above, its face as pale and bright as the moon.
Still smirking, the man in red headed towards a gated door, his heavy steps making large splashes in the deep puddles of rainwater.
"I think I've kept my girl waitin' long enough."
The devil you know returns! Sorry for the long wait on this chapter, work and real life kept me pretty busy, and this one turned out a little longer than I thought it would be.
Major props to my good friend Da-Awesom-One for editing and proof-reading this chapter.
And a huge thank you to all the new readers who've faved and followed this story.
The next couple of chapters will be from Tony's POV, and it's gonna be pretty fun to have him run around the station.
