Resident Evil: Epidemic - 7. Chapter 7

::Reunion::

After piling into the SUV, we were off again. The air outside smelled nasty, as if that putrid, rotten smell of the creatures lingered on everything. As I looked around from my seat in the back of the SUV, I noticed there were about three times as many zombies as there were on the way there. Blood and vomit were on the streets and sidewalk just about everywhere you looked. I saw a dead body, zombie, I think, with its skull caved in. I immediately thought of my mother, who I’d killed this morning.

Memories flashed through my head. Memories of the happy times we had together, before everything was ruined. Before I was outed. I began to tear up when I thought of some of the times we’d laugh together. I got caught up in a flashback, and started crying pretty hard now. I remembered one time when we had gone to see some random sci-fi slasher flick. It was so bad, we couldn’t help laughing throughout the whole film. The theater’s ushers almost kicked us out twice.

Lucas looked back and saw the state I was in. He reached back and took ahold of my hand, squeezing gently. I realized for the first time, that the look he held for me in his eyes was more than mere admiration, but love. He actually loved me. I was so overcome with emotion, I squeezed his hand so hard he winced. I barely noticed. I’d lost my mom, would I lose him too? I couldn’t let that happen. No matter what.

Lucas undid his seatbelt, and climbed over the center console to get to me in the back seat. He put his arms around me, and I couldn’t hold the flood back any longer. I held on for dear life, with him gently rubbing my back. He cooed a few words into my ear, things like, “It’s alright, baby, let it out,” and “I’m here, don’t worry,”. I was starting to calm down.

When I was calm enough, I pulled back and looked into his eyes. I saw the love there again, and nearly lost it again. I held myself together this time though.

“What was that all about?” he asked me. I looked down at his soaked shirt and felt a little ashamed. He noticed immediately. “It’s okay, really. You can tell me.”

“I was…thinking about…my mom,” I told him. Concern and understanding flooded his eyes. In his own way, he knew how painful it was to lose a parent. His mom left him, but she may as well have died.

I looked into his eyes again, with conviction this time. “I’m not losing you too,” I told him. He smiled a bit shyly, and held out his pinky.

“Till the end? T-together always?” he asked with a slight stutter. I understood the significance of what he was asking.

“Forever. I love you,” I told him. The way his face brightened melted my heart. I wanted nothing more in that instant than to kiss him. So, im sure you can imagine how pissed I became at Lucas’ dad right then.

“Strap in boys, it’s about to get rough,” he said as he accelerated.

We sighed, and I tightened my seatbelt. Lucas hadnt even buckled in since he came back here, and was jerked toward me as his dad swerved the car. I reached over and buckled his for him, and he smiled.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

“Wouldn’t want you to become a Lucas sandwich,” I said in my infinite wit. Ok, it was lame. Shut up.

He giggled at that, then glanced forward. Is grin disappeared immediately, so I looked too. There must have been fifty of them, pretty well blocking the road. We were going to hit them at any second.

“DAD!” Lucas exclaimed.

“Hold on tight!” his dad yelled. Then we hit them. It was the most gut-wrenching and disgusting sound I’ve ever heard. Lumps hitting the bumber, bones crunching under the tires. I wanted to throw up. one of them smashed its head on the passenger side of the front windshield, leaving a mess of blood and brains on the cracked glass.

I closed my eyes. The sounds were bad enough, but the blood was going to make me vomit if I kept looking at it. The sounds just went on and on. I was beginning to think we’d never get through them. Finally, the sounds stopped, and I heard Mr. Thomas exhale heavily.

I opened one eye, and glanced at Lucas. He wasn’t faring much better than I was, his eyes tightly closed as well. I looked up and noticed familiar surroundings. We were very close to the school. Just a few streets over, but we’d have to use main roads to get there. So far the side streets had been our best cover protection from the mass of them.

We turned out of the neighborhood, and started toward the school again. I looked back, and idly noticed we were about a block from where my mom and I encountered the mass of zombies on the way to the hospital. Everything seemed to be destroyed, there was debris everywhere. Broken glass was all over the road and I was worried we’d bust a tire.

All of a sudden, the SUV screeched to a halt. I looked forward, and my stomach turned over. In front of us was a barricade of police cars. The doors on most of the cars were standing wide open, and blood was everywhere. The windows of most of them were busted out. bullet casings were all over the ground, almost covering it as if it were made of gold.

The road was completely blocked. Our only way through was between the police cars, and of course the SUV couldn’t fit. We’d have to go forward on foot. When I realized this, my stomach sank even lower, and that urge to vomit returned with a vengeance.

“Maybe we can find another way…” Lucas’ dad said in a bewildered voice. This was the last thing we’d expected to find.

“There is no other way,” Lucas said. “When that Spencer guy had the school remodeled he closed off the campus, making the main entrance the only way in or out.”

Ozwell E. Spencer, CEO of the Umbrella corporation, has his influence throughout the city. He’d had the school remodeled about ten years ago, and through a hefty donation by the Umbrella Corporation had his name put on the school. Although it was technically “Ozwell E. Spencer High School,” most of us just call it Raccoon High. Easier to remember.

Mayor Warren had city hall and most of the government buildings remodeled a few years ago. Many believed he was jealous of the publicity Spencer got for contributing so much to society. Since then, Spencer hasn’t been a very public figure in the last few years, having moved out of the city to take more direct control of the company he helped to found. He had that mansion built out in the forest, but as far as anyone knows never lived in it. Oh well. Strange man.

“Well, isn’t that convenient,” Mr. Thomas said, with a hint of aprehension in his voice. Or was it plain fear? I know I was afraid. If I didn’t have such strong control over my bladder I’d probably have pissed myself. Twice.

“Alright, we need to get moving,” he said to Lucas and I. “The sooner we get into the school the better. We’ll be safe in there.”

Lucas reached forward and pulled the rifle out from where he’d left it on the passenger seat. He grabbed the box of bullets, and made sure the rifle was fully loaded. Mr. Thomas was doing the same with his shotgun. Not wanting to be left out, I checked my pistol. I ejected the magazine (doesn’t that sound so much cooler than ‘I took the bullets out’?) and made sure the clip was full. I put the magazine back in, and chambered a round, something Mr. Thomas had taught me earlier. Lastly, and stupidly, I made sure the safety was on. It was, but if it hadn’t been, I would have shot myself at least once. Need to remember to keep my finger off the trigger.

Finally, after checking our weapons for the second time, we got out of the SUV. I immediately felt vulnerable. Like that feeling you get in a dream, when you realize everyone’s looking at you because you forgot your pants. I scooted closer to Lucas, and we followed his dad’s lead toward the school. The street was relatively quiet, the only sound was the wind, and the occasional call of a crow in the distance.

The darkened windows of the storefronts seemed ominous. The few that remained intact were so dark inside, who knows what might be lurking in there. My nerves at this point were nearly shot, and I all but clung to Lucas as we moved onward. Ahead of us, there were a few zombies. Not too many, only about four or five. They weren’t in any kind of group, just wandering around aimlessly, like the stupid creature they were.

We passed the first two with no trouble at all. Didn’t even need to shoot them, just walked right by. The next few though, saw us coming, and were advancing slowly toward us.

“We should try to conserve our heavier ammunition,” Mr. Thomas said. “Kieran, you think you can take these guys out?”

“Uh, I’ll try,” I said. I’d never even shot a gun before, now I had to kill three monsters with one. No pressure or anything.

I pulled out the gun, raised my arms into a shooting stance, and when the face of the closest zombie was in range, I squeezed the trigger.

It took me a few seconds to figure out why the gun didn’t fire. After I turned the safety catch off, I re-aimed at the closest zombie, and squeezed the trigger again. I completely wasn’t ready for the recoil. Almost dropped the damn thing. I did however manage to hit the zombie square between the eyes and drop it to the ground. Who cared if it wasn’t the zombie I’d been aiming at. No one had to know that but me.

I aimed once again at the closest zombie. I fired when the head was in my sights. I hit it in the collarbone, staggering it. It didn’t even register the pain it should have felt at the blow. I aimed again and blew of a chunk of its bottom jaw. Once again, not even a flinch of emotion.

Finally, when the zombie was almost within scratching distance, I fired again. Didn’t even aim this time. Hit it in the forehead, just over the left eye, and chunks of brain and bone flew out of it’s skull.

Since there was now only one zombie in front of us, we moved forward. We carefully dodged around it as it threw up al over itself and the street. Strange, the vomit started to hiss and bubble on the street, as if it were acid.

We kept moving. I was beginning to get that anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach, and when I looked over at Lucas I saw it mirrored on his ace. We were terrified, no way around it. We silently decided to move faster, almost jogging now. Mr. Thomas saw us, and sped up as well.

We turned the corner and could see the flagpole that’s in front of the school in the distance. Then I heard it. A faint dull clicking sound, like a slow typist on an old typewriter. It was coming from in front of us, but we still couldn’t see what was making the sound. All of a sudden, Mr. Thomas slid to a stop, and Lucas nearly ran into him. I looked over his shoulder at what he’d seen.

There were three dogs in the road, one was picking at the leftovers from a devoured corpse. Another was pacing back and forth, the nails on its paws making the clicking sound. The third was sitting on its haunches with its head up, staring at us, as if daring us to move. Something wasn’t quite right about these dogs.

They were big dogs, a larger breed like a doberman, I think, and were as black as night. The most strange thing about them was the fact that pieces of flesh were hanging off them in various places. The dogs were zombies too, it seemed.

The leader, the one staring us down, stood up to its full height. It kept staring at us, not moving. I saw Mr. Thomas ready his gun, and almost on instinct I brought mine up as well. I looked over at Lucas, who looked about as scared as I felt, and saw he’d readied his rifle as well.

The dog that had been pacing caught sight of us. It lowered itself to the ground, growled, and took off in our direction. Where the zombies are slow and clumsy, the dogs have no such problems. It seemed as though death hadn’t slowed this dog down one bit.

When it got in range, Mr. Thomas prepared to fire. Then it leapt into the air, throwing his aim off, and slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. In his surprise, he dropped the shotgun.

The dog had its big, meaty paws on his shoulders, and its jaws were inches from his face. He brought his hands up just in time, holding the beast up by its neck. The things nasty jaws were snapping open and closed in front of his face, and it growled like a creature from Hell. Lucas brought his rifle around and shot it in the side.

The force of the shot pushed the dog to the side, and Mr. Thomas was able to use that force to throw it off of him. As Lucas took aim again, I looked back at the other dogs, and found one of them charging toward us. I took aim with the pistol.

I fired, hitting it in the neck and knocking it off balance. It fell onto its side. After a few seconds, it stood back up, growled, and launched itself forward again. I tried to aim, but it was too fast, and too close. It leapt into the air like the first one did, and when the thing’s paws touched me I pulled the trigger, and the thing fell on top of me. The barrel of my gun had been against the dog’s throat, aimed toward its brain. It died instantly.

I pushed the disgusting thing off of me, and looked up to see the third dog jumping in the air, about five feet from where I lay, heading straight at me. I didn’t even have time to flinch as I felt its weight slam into my head, and the explosion of sound that must have been my skull cracking from the force.

Blackness. All I could see was blackness, so I thought I must have been dead. Strange, though, I was in a lot of pain for a dead guy.

Lucas lifted the dog off of me. I could see again, and the flood of light bombarded my senses, making my headache flare up, and I closed my eyes again.

“Oh my god! Are you alright! Please be alright!” Lucas was frantically shouting at me. My head was pounding now. I opened my eyes and looked into his eyes. Relief flooded through them.

“Call the pound…” I said, a weak attempt at a joke. Lucas laughed, a choked sounding laugh because of the tears in his eyes.

“I was so worried,” he whispered, and then broke into tears. “I was afraid I had shot you! It was so close to your head, I thought I might have missed. And when you didn’t move I thought you were dead!” he sobbed.

Mr. Thomas limped over to us. I looked up at him and saw he had his arms around his stomach. He smiled down at me.

“It’ll take more than mutant zombie dogs to keep us down!” he said with a laugh.

I giggled, and asked, “Are you alright? Did it bite you?”

“Nah, just hit me like a sledgehammer. Lucas got him, though,” he said. “How about you? You took that hit to the head pretty hard.”

“I feel alright, I guess. My head hurts, but otherwise I’m alright.”

“Good,” he said. “I’ll have to take a look at your head when we get to the school.”

I nodded, and after Lucas helped me up, we resumed our way to the school. We moved much slower this time, as Mr. Thomas and I were in pain. Finally we reached the gates of the school, and after hopping over them, we reached the front door. It was locked.

“Try around the side,” Mr. Thomas said.

He then started knocking loudly on the door. Lucas and I started toward the side, but stopped when we heard the sound of something heavy being moved from the door. It finally opened.

An arm, holding a large semi-automatic pistol came out of the doorway and pointed at Mr. Thomas’ head, just inches from his forehead.

“Say something, or I’ll shoot,” a deep voice said.

“Don’t shoot! We’re human!” Mr. Thomas said in a panicked voice. The stranger took his finger off the trigger and moved the gun away from his face. I still couldn’t see the man.

“How many of you are there?” he asked.

“Three. Myself, my son, and his friend,” he said.

“Any infected?”

“No, none of us.”

“Come in then,” he said, and moved away from the door. “But if you’re lying, and one of you is infected, I’ll kill all of you.”

We entered, and I could see the man at last.

“Coach Reynolds?” I asked. Great, the most homophobic staff member. He looked at me, and then at Lucas, and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Oh great, the fag brigade is complete,” he said.

“That’s enough, Reynolds,” I heard a man say from behind him. He turned, and I saw Mr. Bosley standing about five feet away. Behind him were my friends Tyler Prescott and Dan Collins. Becky Reilly, the total bitch in my English class was also there. Tyler and Dan smiled in relief when they saw us.

“Whatever,” Coach Reynolds said.

Mr. Thomas went over to talk with Mr. Bosley, and Lucas and I went over to Tyler and Dan.

“Hey, we were afraid you guys didn’t make it,” Tyler said.

“My mom didn’t,” I said and they immediately looked sympathetic. “But we’re doing alright.”

“Sorry about your mom, Kieran,” Dan said. “Our parents didn’t make it either. They had the ‘flu.’ Some fucking flu this turned out to be.”

“Tell me about it,” I said. “Have you guys heard from Ashley?”

Their expressions darkened considerably.

“She was with me, on our way here,” Tyler said. “This big fucking dog came from out of nowhere, man.” He paused to wipe his eyes. My own eyes were starting to sting, as I figured Ashley wouldn’t be joining us.

“I didn’t even see it until it was too late. The thing jumped from behind a car, and had its mouth around her throat,” his crying got heavier, to the point where it was hard to understand him. “Her last words were my name! She was calling to me for help and I couldn’t save her!” he broke down crying, and fell to his knees. His body was overcome with big, heaving sobs. Dan tried to comfort him, but wasn’t doing much good.

“God! Do we have to listen to these fags?” a voice said from behind me. I turned around, and almost peed myself. Standing just a few feet behind me was Bobby Gibson, the boy who outed me, the boy who’d tried to force himself on me yesterday. When he recognized me, his lips curled into the most wicked and evil looking smile I’d ever seen. I’d rather face the fucking mutant zombie dogs.