Zombies

Claire's ringer sounded off and cut through the air like a hot knife through butter. Everyone was wondering the same question. Was it Richard and Meloy? Claire frantically pulled her phone out of it's clip and clawed the foldable cover off.

"Hello?"

"Oh…alright, we'll be there." As soon as Claire had changed her expression from hopeful to hopeless they all knew it was neither Richard, nor Meloy. They resumed to arm themselves in likewise disappointment. Claire looked up and said. "Vickers is here; he's waiting."

The S.T.A.R.S. members rounded up their last provisions and made their way to the elevator. Vickers kept the motor running, he wasn't even aware where he would be driving. What he did know was most of Raccoon's highways and streets; his agile perception of direction was keen. It had been the reason why S.T.A.R.S. had even considered him. He was an excellent pilot and had nerves of steal as a driver. While on the R.P.D. no driver could escape his mobility. Usually that was all that he was used for, the only exception was for lack of manpower. Wesker was the first to walk out the door, Barry and Chris followed behind with Claire at the rear. Wesker had a bulletproof vest and M-16 in his arms. He knew it was for him since Richard and Meloy were out of commission. The bulletproof side-door slide open on it's hinges and Barry was grinning at Vickers.

"Hey Vick, long time no see."

"Yeah I know, climb in."

Wesker handed the supplies to Barry and Barry placed them into a crate just behind the driver's seat. There was a wooden bench also on the side of the driver's side that ran along the wall. Barry had sat down and strapped himself in; Chris and Claire got in and did likewise after putting their M-16s into the crate. Wesker closed the side door and handed a map to Vickers.

"Drive here."

Vickers took a look at the map. He recognized the map but he concentrated on the ink lines that Wesker had written on it.

"Alright." Vickers took off and he drove fast. "Do you want me to turn on the horn?"

Wesker stayed looking forward and said. "No."

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Wesker stayed silent, contemplating on a concise answer. Richard and Meloy and an officer have broken contact. We're going to see why."

"Why are they out there in the first place?"

Wesker was annoyed. "Don't you keep informed on mission parameters?

"Usually." Vickers looked at Wesker; waiting for the answer he was looking for."

"Richard and Meloy were going on an investigation. There was some business with a patient at one of the local hospitals. There was an accusation of unlawful chemical experiments. Richard and Meloy were in contact with Claire when something went wrong. Richard said Meloy was missing; Claire tried to get into contact with him afterwards but he's not answering. Claire sent a unit and it too has broken communication. That's why were going there."

Vickers stole a look at his partners in the back of the van to read their faces. Chris and Claire looked a little worried but he couldn't see what Barry was thinking. Vickers didn't ask any more questions but he only continued driving without any further talk.

Claire was worried but also cold. She had forgotten her jacket in the locker room. "Do we still have those sweaters in here?" She unbuckled her belt and crawled over to the chest at the back corner of the van. She unhooked the clasp and lifted the top. There were more supplies. She pulled out two sweaters and threw one to her brother who had forgotten his sweater as well. She unfolded the sweater and put it on; when she was finished she looked into the chest before closing it. There were some explosives inside. She thought whether she should take them or not and decided to take two. She put the in her pouch and turned the pouch around so that the opening was at the back. If a bullet hit one of them... A shiver ran through her body and she closed the chest door and clasped it shut.

Barry was thinking that maybe Richard and Meloy were in trouble but not necessarily dead. He could remember a time when he had been in a standoff for two hours before backup could arrive. He was in a corner of a warehouse behind some boxes and he had been shooting at a man in an office with one door, the one that he had been covering. He was low on ammo and wouldn't risk any more wasted shots. The man who was in the office also had a gun but he wasn't using it. Barry couldn't get to his police radio in his cruiser without leaving the scene. Eventually back up came and the suspect was arrested for resisting arrest, concealing a weapon, endangering the life of an officer, and intent to kill. Barry reasoned his guesswork out and asked his two-team mates what they thought. "Do you think that maybe they're in a standoff?"

Claire didn't even motion a beginning of a response but Chris thought about it and gave Barry his answer. "Hope so."

Barry tried to argue his point. "It happened to me once."

Chris contemplated the chances while Claire gave her opinion. "What about the officer I sent out? Why didn't he respond? We'll be lucky if they are hurt and that's all." Claire was sad that she couldn't force a more positive hope in herself.

Barry abandoned his notion as unlikely; he stayed quiet resuming his stares at the opposite wall of the van.

Claire wished she and Chris could do the mission alone. They were the only ones to truly care for the missing investigators. She would personally see to the deaths of her friend's murderers. They were S.T.A.R.S., there was much more le way for them compared to an ordinary officer. It would be hopeless; Wesker surely would have them stay together in one unit. Maybe she could stray off somehow? Even if she did find a way to leave, what if they found the murderers first? That would be an insult to injury! Non-sense. She would stick with the team for better or worse.

Claire noticed Wesker and Vickers talking about something in the front. She strained to hear their hushed tones. Wesker was asking about a time period, maybe about the distance to the mansion. Vickers said it would take twenty minutes and that ended their conversation.

17

James Bolvdeck got a call ten minutes ago about the body Jim was interested in. The doctors would be there soon to assist with the autopsy. The Mayor had informed James that the person or once was possible died of a chemical spill at a nearby plant. The chemicals used are new stains and would be undetectable. Specialists from a friendly company (Umbrella was it?) would offer their help. James had finished with the fire fighters autopsy along with a few others. He would have to stay at the hospital and work overtime since the Umbrella specialists wanted to come as soon as possible. James had enough time to get the body out of cold storage and begin the examination. He walked out of autopsy room and down the long corridor to the elevator. After pushing the button, he waited silently. The doors needed cleaning they were absolutely clothed in filth. Nobody cares about the subbasement levels. The door opened and a man was standing at the back ready to push wheeled long-table.

There was a white sheet and a foot sticking out with a numbered tag. It was Alex, his long time coworker, whistling as he sometimes did. Alex shoved the long metal table out of the elevator whistling the whole time. He raised his brows at James in notoriety and went on his way to one of the five autopsy rooms. Even though the autopsy rooms weren't assigned each corner had his own and none of the others molested the unwritten rule. James had raised his eyebrows and then stepped into the service elevator. The metal doors closed and James went down into the shaft. He felt all of a sudden and wished that the examination could wait for one more day.

Hopefully it wouldn't take more than an hour. He could remember doing his firs autopsies; how fast he was. Now he took his time when dissecting, cutting, and prodding. The door opened and James absent-mindedly walked out into the hallway. The bodies were at the end of the hall that made an upside down "L" shape. It main stem ran forty feet and then branched off into another ten feet before he would get there. The other rooms had various purposes, cleaners, chemicals, etc. James' shoes made a loud echo on the cement floor. He walked and turned the corner with his hands stuffed into his pockets while looking down at the ground. There wasn't a door to the deposit (the name the coroners used to identify where the bodies lay) so James walked right in and flicked on the light.

The room was a rectangular shape, the entrance at a corner. Along the longest walls were separate cooling storage units. Three units were against each wall. In the middle of the room was a large square container unit. Forty bodies could be stored there if necessary but that had never been the case. The body he was looking for would be along the wall in one of the single units. He tried to remember which one it was when he noticed that the furthest unit from himself was wide open. The door had been opened all the way and it was resting against the wall. Must have been Alex. He walked over to the unit and looked inside to see a body lying there. The eyes were open and looking at his direction. What? James was confounded; he thought he saw the iris adjust. He took a closer look to see if he could see the eye movements again. The air was cold on his face and it made his eyes wince. Immediately his glasses fogged up on him. He had rested his hand on the edge of the unit to lean in on the corpse. There were no movements; he tried to remember how long the body had been dead. Sometimes the body acted in strange ways even after death. James was going to wipe the lenses of his glasses when the corpse grabbed onto his arm with ultimate strength. James looked at the hand death had lay upon him and gasped unbelievably.

The corpse sat upright and brought the hand toward its face. James was still in shock but he had taken in enough to make a small attempt to free his hand. The corpse opened its mouth and took in James' index finger and clamped its jaws down into the soft flesh. Its two front teeth chipped and cracked but it felt nothing. The bone split and the finger was severed.

"Agghhhhhhhhh." James pulled with all his force and fell onto his back. He semi-crawled away while with his left underarm he covered the bloody mess. The room was filled with his agonizing wails and cries. He had never screamed so loud in his life. The corpse bent over the edge of it's coffin like storage unit and spilled out onto the floor; gazing at James, through James, into his body where it wanted to get at desperately. There was ten feet of space between the exit to the deposit room and James. The corpse was about six feet away from James; it had gotten onto its knees and it was trying to stand up. James was screaming in terror more than he was from the pain. The absence of his finger made a dreadfully painful thump throughout his whole body in unison with his heartbeat. Finally James planted his right foot onto the floor and made his way to an upright position.

The corpse was already standing and looking at James; barely swaying in its stance. It took a large step toward James and collapsed to the floor. It made no effort to break the fall; both of its arms were at its side. The impact crushed its nose as it fell flat on its face.

James slowly jogged away still looking at the monster. The monster watched him leave and tried to walk again. James was still yelling out and it was making him feel more faint so he stopped. He collided against the walls as he made his retreat. The gushing blood covered the left side of his coat and the tail end of it dripped a trail behind him. He walked trying to open the doors with his good hand along the way to the elevator but they were locked. He had fifteen feet before he could get to the elevator.

The creature entered the hall and walked the path.

In ten, twelve feet more, I'll make it. I'll push the button and when the door opens I'll press for any of the floors. I'll use the shut door button. I can hear something walking. No, it's still crawling. James turned around and screamed. He looked at an empty hallway but then monster had rounded the corner and it was upright and walking fast. It was walking faster than him. It looked angry. James tried to hurry and he was able to pick his speed up but not to his satisfaction. This isn't happening. He looked downward and saw a ray of hope; he felt a sense of protection. In his chest coat pocket was a scalpel. He ground his teeth as he moved his protective left arm up from his wounded stub and took the scalpel out of his pocket. Last resort, I'll stab it in the face! I'll stab it in that damn eye! James tried to quicken his pace but it was to no avail. He hit the glowing green button with his left thumb and then turned around. I have time, I have time. James was breathing through his teeth heavily. Spittle foamed around his mouth. The severed finger throbbed terribly.

The monster was twenty feet away taking clumsy steps. James looked at the yellow lights above the elevator door and saw that the service elevator was on the first floor.

He consistently rammed his thumb against the elevator's button. Come on damn you! Come on hurry up, please! He looked at the light turn down the row to subbasement one. He felt he might make it. The corpse walked faster and then faster until it jogged. What the hell? James eyes opened as wide as they could. The monster was slowly running! "Stay away from me!" James lost it. He stood in a defensive posture and waited.

The elevator reached the subbasement two and James and the corpse could hear the elevator start opening.

The corpse crashed into James and bite into James' neck. Screams reverberated through the cold cement hallway. The corpse had its right hand behind James neck and the left was holding onto his shirt. James and the corpse were halfway into the elevator writhing on the floor in gruesome battle. He stabbed the creature in the back but the corpse didn't seem to feel any pain. The corpse continued to tear the flesh apart and James hand collapsed on the floor and the scalpel he was holding rolled out onto the cement floor.

18

Umbrella arrived at St. John's as the corpse mutilated James' body. They would evacuate the second and third basements and clean up the mess. They knew how to deal with the corpse. After they would have to take care of the mansion problem. First they had to keep the epidemic from growing.

19

The S.T.A.R.S. grew closer and closer to their destination. They would arrive in just less than twenty minutes. Wesker felt confident as he usually did. Vickers was nervous since he hadn't had much intense fieldwork. Chris was a little worried but not as much as Claire and he didn't feel as cool as Wesker. He was in the middle of the two extremities.

The stormy clouds above released the beginnings of what would be a torrential rain. Vickers and Wesker were the first to realize the drizzle falling but soon afterwards the drops grew heavier and heavier until soft patters could be heard pelting the fast moving van. Claire looked out the window at the weather and seemed to be thinking more than paying attention to the thickening rain. Barry also looked out the window without much care; he put his hand against his holster that carried the shiny Colt Python.

Barry shot a quick look at his gun. As long as I have this everything will be ok. Strange, I don't believe other people's lucky charms except for mine. It's saved my life. When I was sure that I was out of bullets by instinct I aimed and pulled the trigger. Even though I was positive that there were no more bullets in the chamber, I wasn't surprised to hear a bullet fire! That time, when I was a rookie, it saved my life. Barry patted his gun again and though it was cold he felt warmer for doing so.

Chris could see Barry romancing his gun again. It always made Chris feel like laughing whenever Barry started with his gun even a little right there in the van! He didn't dare though, his laughs felt stronger since he was tense over their coming mission. How did the story go again? Oh yeah, Barry was doing some kind of drug bust that went bad. The drug traffickers he was involved in busting were a lot more heavily armed than first suspected. Barry found himself empty of 9mm ammo and having to resort to the Colt Python his father gave him. He shot very well with the Python but the standard 9mm was automatic and so he preferred to use it out in the field. The Colt had six chambers and Barry didn't have any more ammo for it. Chris tried to recall the rest of the story. He thought he should remember; he had told the story enough times for it to get a little tiring. Ok, I think I remember. Barry said that he propped himself up against a corner of the drug trafficking house and waiter for his back up when two armed drug dealers entered into the room. They didn't see him and they were going to go out the way he had come in. He spoke up, surprising them pretty good I bet (Chris had to stifle another chuckle while thinking of the look they probably had on their faces). They turned around at the same time raising their weapons at Barry. Barry shot the one closest to him in the chest and the other in the face. The one that got shot in the face fell back dead while the one that got shot in the chest held his hand against his wound and resuming his aim with his fire-arm. Barry shot him again in the chest; the man fell and withed on the floor coughing up blood. Barry heard approaching steps and fled out the door the two dead victims had meant to leave through. There was a couch in the room and Barry ran and hid behind it. A man with a sub-machine Uzi came out and looked around wildly, scooping out the room. This is the part. The part that gets weird. Not so weird if you don't believe in superstition. You would surrender the whole idea to a miscalculation on Barry's part. If you do believe in strange things happening for unknown reasons then you might want to borrow Barry's gun for good luck. As the story goes, Barry shot at the man with his three remaining bullets. They all zeroed in on the man's chest with empty reverberations. The gunman fell flat on his back with a heavy thud. Barry listened for any more oncoming attackers but he didn't hear anything. It seemed that the officer that went in through the back of the house had taken care of the other two suspects. Just then Barry's radio bleeped out his partners cries. "Barry, are you alright? I shot one suspect and I'm arresting another." Barry responded. "Killed three. I'm coming over there." While Barry was talking the man he had supposedly shot had gotten back up. Barry started for the back of the house when he saw the man enter in the room with his Uzi at his side. The man was smiling at Barry. Barry saw the dark blue bulletproof vest on the man's chest and he felt his heart melt. Barry took two steps back and the man took two steps forward, shaking his head up and down at Barry. Barry wanted to drop his gun and rush the man but something made him raise his gun. The gunman eyes opened in surprise at Barry's suicidal move and opened fire. They shot at the same time; the Uzi tore three holes in Barry's left arm and Barry's gunshot a hole through the man's head. Barry survived and was given a desk job until he recovered. Everyone at the station heard the story after that, little by little Barry told it less often but he's never gotten it totally out of his system.

Chris looked over at Barry and buried another fit of laughter. He noticed Claire give him a look of curious indignation and his humor faded.