Spark

Rating: M
Warnings: Violence, Language, Drug/Alcohol References/Abuse, Mild/Explicit Sexual Content
Disclaimer: All properties related to the Resident Evil/Biohazard series belong to Capcom. Any other products are the intellectual property of their respective owners.
A/N: So, I watched Markiplier play the Resident Evil 2 Remake and I was absolutely blown away by it! I bought it the same day and have fallen madly in love with it. Seriously, Capcom blew it out of the water! Anyway, inspiration for an OC story struck. Because that's what happens when you're a fangirl, you write fanfiction.

So, I wanted an OC that I don't think I've seen before on here. I wanted her to be genre savvy but not overpoweringly knowledgeable. No military background or fighting skills, even. Just common sense, basic firearm training, and a really sharp knife. I hope I do well on this because I've really put a lot of heart into it. Anyway, please read and enjoy!

This is the third and final version of this chapter. The first was uploaded with the goal to either convert it to a standalone oneshot or create a whole story from; the second was to convert it to a functioning first chapter of an actual story, the third was to finalize the concepts presented within and correct spelling mistakes that I may have missed earlier. Hopefully all mistakes are gone by this one but, there may be one or two left. Thank you xXxRena-MariexXx for your editing efforts!

:.:

September 1998 had blown out with a storm.

The rain came down in buckets and cold air chased away thoughts of the rapidly-fading summer. Rae Colter was curled up on her window seat, sipping coffee and watching the umbrellas mill about on the street below her. Her tiny studio apartment was chilly in the early-morning air, so she had wrapped herself under a ruby red velvet throw until the old radiator finally decided to wheeze to life. In the background some classic spaghetti western was playing on her television, complete with bad audio dubbing and cheesy lines. It was a classic tale of love and loss, with the main hero chasing after the rather nasty character who'd kidnapped his wife. A gunshot came from the speakers, followed by a horse's whinny of distress. Rae gulped down a mouthful of her steaming drink, uncaring if it burnt her throat. It was too cold and dreary to do much of anything except for staying in and watching movies. While that was her favorite pastime, she'd been itching to go to the video mart down the road and pick out some new titles. She'd practically memorized her current collection.

Adulting was boring. Watching movies was really all she could do to stay sane. College life was lonely, without her dad's boisterous laugh and his pals from the station crowding their small house. Sure, she had a few friends, but they weren't the type to really go out and do anything. She could always get her daily dose of human interaction at class, or the orphanage, or the Thai place across the street. Well, she could if only it wasn't her day off and she wasn't on a diet. She'd get a dog to keep her company if she weren't deathly terrified of them. So she watched movies until she could quote them all the way through.

Rae's socked feet padded across the room to the kitchenette, where she emptied out any remaining grounds that'd collected at the bottom of her tasty beverage. The kitchenette rested against the same wall as her bed, across from the 'living room' and next to the bathroom door. It was a sad sight, sporting only a sink and an oven—that worked half the time if she were really lucky. At the very least, the cabinetry was sturdy enough to handle her hand-me-down mismatched dishware. Speaking of which, her dishes rattled in the cabinets in an ominous manner. In fact, the whole wall was shaking thanks to the noisy neighbors she shared it with. The couple in the apartment next to hers had been trying for a baby for months now with seemingly no success. That or they were just really into each other. Rae had been incredibly embarrassed about it for the first few days, but had quickly grown desensitized to it all, given that they did the dirty deed at least three times a day. A friend from college had told her that she needed to find herself a man with that stamina. Rae disagreed. She liked her solitude, thank you very much.

The woman next door let out a low keen as the headboard slammed into the wall repeatedly. The walls of the old apartment building were thin enough that Rae could even hear the muted sound of skin slapping on skin. Rae wished they'd give it a rest. With any luck, the guy would pull a muscle or something and be out of commission for a bit. She'd originally turned on the movie to drown them out, to no avail. At this rate they were going to either knock the wall down or fall through the floor. Mr. Dawes would have a fit; he'd turn purple! Suppressing a giggle at the thought, she turned her focus to the movie.

The television sported the image of two men tussling on top of a moving train. Some sort of odd energetic music was playing over the fight, and the sound mixing was terrible enough that the track interrupted itself and restarted. The cowboy in black beat the one in brown over the head with his pistol, knocking him from the train. Rae rolled her eyes as the movie jump cut to the brown-clad man falling in a lake. She loved the bad editing and cheap production of these types of films. So bad they're good, as her dad would say. He was the one who'd gotten this one for her, if she remembered correctly. It'd come in a box set with two others by the same director—all equally tasteless.

"I'll get you Black Billy, even if it's the last thing I do", she mumbled under her breath along with the movie, perfectly in time with the man's own line. The cowboy on screen humorously slapped the water in frustration—were the actors given any direction?—as the movie faded to black. "I wish I had the sequel so I knew how it ended." Of course she could take a guess: Brown-clad bounty hunter kills his rival in black and rescues his lady friend; they ride off into the sunset. Movies were easy to predict. Real life? Not so much.

The tape finished rewinding with an abrupt 'click'. Rae ejected the cassette from the player and slid the VHS back into its sleeve. It went back to its proper place on her shelves, right next to "My Name is Nobody" and "Buddy Goes West". Her collection had swollen since she'd moved out. She'd left Huntsville with a shelf's worth of tapes and had somehow managed to fill an entire hutch in the span of a year. Some of the boxes on the shelves even held new DVDs, which she'd taken an interest in despite not having a player yet.

Ever since she was little, Rae had gotten along with pictures better than people. Her father had been a fan of classic horror, while her mother had liked the cheesy romance movies of decades past. She missed curling up on the couch between her parents and watching the stories unfold with them. Those were simpler times, before she'd become an adult and run off to start her own life in the big city. She'd developed her parents' hobby and found herself immersed in movies. They were her one, true love. She'd even joined Film Club on her college campus and made a few friends who shared her interests. A new tape found its way into the player and she resumed her spot on the window seat.

Rae Colter had grown up in Huntsville, which was an absolutely massive town with a staggering population of five thousand and twelve. The community was close-knit, meaning that everybody knew everybody's business. Always. She'd never much cared for the small-town politics. She'd preferred the drama in movies to the real life thing. High school had been a lonely affair, between self-imposed isolation and her father's constant meddling in her social life. She'd been happy when she'd graduated with high honors and been offered a scholarship at South Side University because it'd meant getting away from everything for a bit, discovering herself. Over a year had passed and she was just beginning her second year of college as a business major. Despite the less-than-glamorous apartment on the shabby side of town, she was happy. Or at least, she thought she was. There were times when she felt overwhelmed, but apparently that was common for college students.

In the corner, her radiator finally groaned. It was about time, Rae grumbled internally. She'd have to talk to Mr. Dawes about getting it either fixed or replaced; it'd pooped out on her at the tail-end of February and hadn't been the same since. Rae leaned up against the window and pressed her head to the cool glass. When would the rain stop? Despite the drizzle, the alleyway outside of her home was bustling with life. Children splashed in puddles outside the Thai restaurant across the street, people were walking their dogs, and two men had even found the energy to get into a fairly loud argument about 'Jennifer'. She watched as one of the men sucker punched the other right in the gob. Ouch. Her eyes narrowed as they swept over a man leaning up against the wall, vomiting. Drunk, probably. Rae watched as another man bent to help him up, only to get attacked. The drunk clamped down on the business man's arm with his teeth, prompting other passerby's to help pull them apart.

Rae jumped when the wall phone's shrill tone pierced the air. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Who would be calling her? The only people that had her home phone number were her Father, Tiff and Jay-Jay (the only other two students in the Film Club), and the sweet Thai lady who owned the store across the street. Well, that last one she was unsure of. She certainly called for takeout enough that they should have her number saved. Rae lowered the volume on the new movie and plucked the phone from its holder.

"Hello? Rae Colter speaking. Who may I ask is calling?" Always polite, just like her father taught her.

"Hey, Chevy. Miss you, kiddo." She'd recognize that silly nickname anywhere. She gave a soft smile and leaned against the wall, careful not to wrap herself up in the phone cord. "Been a while. When are you going to drop in for a visit?"

Rae sighed and clutched receiver close. "Daddy, I went home at the end of last month. And I'm due for another visit next week. Even asked off for it."

"I know. I'm just worried."

Charles Colter was a worrier. He'd worried himself sick when she'd decided to move to the next town over (and subsequently forty-five minutes away) instead of going to Huntsville Community and staying at home. The man had been a cop for decades and the job had given him a fine grey speckling throughout his hair and wrinkles on his face. Stress had been his simple explanation. He'd once told her that he worried for her so much because of what he'd seen on the job. He'd worried even more after her mom had been killed in a car accident—Rae was ten at the time. Given everything that had happened, the man was hard to live with after the accident. She had a strict curfew set and wasn't allowed to go out without supervision even after she'd received her driver's license. He became a helicopter parent, hovering around her at all times. In the end, she still loved him and recognized that it was to keep her safe and put his mind at ease; despite that, she'd be lying if she said that the overprotective streak hadn't been part of her decision to move further away.

"You're always worried, you goof." Rae snorted a bit in laughter. "You're going to make yourself sick someday, you know?"

"I know, I know", he grumbled good naturedly. "Just wanted to check up on my baby girl. Make sure you're having fun at school and the boys are staying away. Typical dad stuff." Please, like there were any boys interested in her anyway. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm failing all of my classes and having to beat the boys away with a stick."

"Lies."

Rae giggled. "I never lie. I just bend the truth a bit." She moved the receiver to her other ear so she could peer out the window. The drunk had gone and the crowd had dissipated. Big city life was strange. "Classes are going well. Everybody's doing big projects right now, so I haven't been on campus for any lectures. Professor Simmons is having us do a twenty page report on raising productivity in a theoretical workplace. Definitely not looking forward to that. At all."

"Have you started any internships with that one company? The one your friend's uncle works for? "

Tiffany's Uncle Bill was some sort of hotshot in Research and Development at the Umbrella Corporation. It was a blanket company that, much like its namesake, oversaw many different business ventures. Just in the last five years they'd bought out Ashford and Sons' legal firm, Knight Construction Company, and United Telecommunications—Rae's own phone provider. They even funded local agencies out of pocket, like the orphanage and police stations. Rae had considered joining her friends there, but had instead been offered a job by an old buddy of her father's. Besides, she heard Umbrella was a terror to work for.

"Nooope." She popped the 'p'. "Jake told me not to open that can of worms—"

"Film Club Jake, right? You'd better not have gotten a boyfriend without telling me."

"Yes, Film Club Jake. Jeez! Anyway… Umbrella runs its interns ragged. Jake said that last week they had him organize and distribute pamphlets to the entirety of the office building. And if you've seen the Umbrella high rise here in town, you know that's a pretty daunting task." The city had a sprawling urban area comprised of towering multi-story behemoths… the largest of which belonged to the Umbrella Corporation. "Besides, I'm still working at the orphanage three days a week, so I don't really have the time."

"You still enjoy it there?"

"Hmmm… It's rewarding work, I guess."

Rae could hear her father chuckle on the other end. "That's probably the most noncommittal answer I've ever heard come out of your mouth. So I take I the job's not as perfect as you'd hoped it would be? I told you that taking care of troubled kids would be hard. But you said—"

"—it's good character building. Bite my toes, Dad! It's still building plenty of character… it's just not going as fast as I would've hoped." The kids at the orphanage didn't trust easy. They could be stubborn little twerps when they wanted to. It was difficult for new faces to be welcomed, but Rae understood why they were to slow to bond with people.

"Did something happen, Chevy?"

Rae leaned against her faded green wallpaper. She pursed her lips as she thought how she wanted to answer. Her sock-covered toes wiggled as she mused. "Yes and no. It just feels like whenever I make progress, I'm losing it at the same time. You know? I've been working with this little boy, Markus. He's quiet, doesn't like people very much."

Markus had always been hard to connect with. He was stubborn, withdrawn. It was a chore trying to interact with him, especially because he never listened to her. He always stared straight through her like she wasn't there, like he was a zombie. Rae didn't think she'd ever even heard him speak. It was sad, because she'd been told that he'd once been a sweet kid who was full of life. Whether it was being separated from his parents for so long or just the stress of not being put up for adoption, he just… gave up. Rae had volunteered to work with him because she wanted to help bring that smile back. Maybe it was selfish, because he reminded her of herself after the car accident.

"I bet you guys get along great, then. Kindred souls." She pictured her dad's smile stretching wide across his face, accentuating his crow's feet and laugh lines. She missed his smile.

"Haha", she deadpanned. "It's actually been hard getting him to open up to me. We played together a few days ago and he actually shared his toys! I thought, 'yay, I'm doing good'. Then yesterday we were told that the kids had to start writing in their journals every day instead of twice a week. That… didn't go over well."

"He cry? Throw a tantrum?"

Rae absentmindedly scratched at the bandage wrapped around her hand. "The little monster tried to take a chunk out of me! Bit the area between my thumb and pointer finger pretty good, actually." At that revelation, Charles Colter burst out laughing at her expense. She could almost see him throwing his head back in mirth, whole chubby belly shaking in time with his laughs. Rae let out an indignant squawk. "It's not funny, Dad! He drew blood. Like, it was an actual chomp, not just a love nibble!"

The orphanage required all of the children to be tested once a week. Rae been told by one of the matrons that sickness tended to pass through the orphanage like a wildfire. Kids were little germ monsters, after all. Rae had once given her parents and entire extended family the flu after a Christmas celebration; that was a story for another time. Markus had apparently harbored a deep-rooted fear of doctors. The visits tended to bring out the worst in his personality. Rae had made the mistake of touching his journal, and the boy had seen red and clamped down on her hand until she let go. It'd hurt like a bitch! He'd kicked, fussed, screamed. The matrons had escorted him away after the tantrum, but Rae hadn't told them about the bite for fear of getting the boy into even more trouble and having him hate her. All of her progress over the months would go down the drain.

"Oh, it can't be that bad, Chevy. He's, what, five? Six? Kiddos have little teeth. I even got bit by you a couple of times." And you probably deserved it, you butt, Rae thought. "It'll heal up in no time."

"Yeah, maybe." Rae glared at the gauze on her hand and rubbed it. "It itches pretty bad, though. I might go get it checked out by a doctor. After that tantrum, I'm worried Markus might have rabies."

"Don't be rude, Chevy."

"Last time I checked, biting people was rude", she groused.

"So, beyond that… Any new people in your life? Any new friends? I know you have trouble talking to people." I wonder whose fault that is, she commented internally. It was hard to make friends with your dad leaning over your shoulder, and she'd never exactly been sociable in the first place. "This it totally not a ploy to see if you've met anybody, by the way."

Right, Dad. "Like I told you earlier, I don't have a boyfriend. But if you keep asking me, I might just get one to spite you." She paused thoughtfully. "Or a girlfriend."

Very seriously he responded, "Go with that second one. Boys are evil."

God, he was a menace. Her lips quirked up in good humor. "How are things there? Any criminal masterminds hanging around our town?" Small town police stations were a mixed bag; one day there was absolutely nothing of interest happening, the next day there would be a million dollar drug bust in an apartment complex off of Main Street that climaxed with the redneck owner of said apartments having an armed standoff with police in nothing but a towel. True story.

"Not after Professor McEvilFace turned the observatory into a shrink ray, I'm afraid. It's been boring." It wasn't becoming of a man in his forties to whine like a kid.

"Shouldn't you be happy there's no crime?"

"Nah. Job security." He paused for a moment, then got serious. "But anyway, this actually isn't a social call. Have you heard about what's been going on in Clements—"

The power suddenly went out and the phone clicked off. She pulled it away from her ear. "Okay. So, that was strange." She wondered what he'd been about to say. Clements? That was a neighborhood a bit north of her. It was the urban center of the city and the home of the Umbrella building. She wondered what was going on there. Miss V would probably know, if anything. God, she'd have to call her dad back as soon as the power came back on or he'd freak out and think she was dead.

Rae peered out the window and watched as the Thai place's lights flickered back on. Her own television turned back on as well, though the cheesy rom-com that she'd put in the VCR had stopped playing. She placed the phone to her ear. No dial tone. Weird. Instead, there was shrill buzzing. She pressed a few buttons and even tried unplugging it again and again to resuscitate it. Surely if the power was back on her phone should be working, right? Rolling her eyes, she pulled on some warmer clothes and headed downstairs to talk to Mr. Dawes about her apparently dead phone. On her way out, she noted with annoyance that the elevator was still out of order. It'd be nice if something in her apartment would actually work correctly. Then again, with the rent she was paying she was surprised the roof hadn't caved in yet. At least she'd have great buns and thighs from climbing the stairs every day. She approached the apartment office on the first floor and dinged the bell to let him know she was waiting.

Mr. Dawes came out of his office in a huff. "Yes, girl. I know about the power outage. It's getting in the way of watching my soaps. Damn TV turned off right when I was about to find out who the killer actually was, too." The tiny man muttered under his breath about how it was obviously the 'alien clone from the future' and he was 'damn sure of it'. Soap operas were weird.

Dawes was a small built man, nearly as short as her and way more insecure about it. He also had a temperament that was similar to his stature. He tended to get upset about everything, big or small. Rae had once seen him throw a tenant's dining room chairs out a window because she'd been a few days late on a payment. It hadn't been fun nearly getting a concussion from flying furniture. She was just thankful that the rent was dirt-cheap and that he pretty well left them alone as long as they paid on time. When he wasn't charging them for stupid inconvenience fees, anyway. He ruled the building like some sort of evil tyrant; Rae's favorite neighbor had even started calling Dawes 'Lord Gnome'. It was scary how fitting it was.

"Um, Mr. Dawes, I'm not here about the power. I wanted to put in a request for my phone to be fixed. It just stopped working."

The squat man was already red in that face, but that statement made him turn a bit purple. "Now, you listen here: that phone was brand new whenever you moved in! I'm sick of getting complaints from you about your apartment. 'Mr. Dawes, my shower won't get warm'; 'Mr. Dawes, my radiator stopped working'; 'Mr. Dawes, I can't figure out how to use my phone properly'." He did a poor job of mimicking her. She winced at the whiny tone he'd taken. "Well, I'll call your damn phone and show you that it's working just fine. Then you can march your pretty little ass right back up the stairs and answer it!" Well, she'd have to march up the stairs because he was too cheap to fix the stupid elevator!

He picked up the front desk phone and placed it to his ear. Rae watched his face contort as he pressed buttons. First was the annoyance, then the disbelief. His expression ultimately settled on anger. It was interesting to watch him darken a few shades and start to sweat, but she wasn't looking forward to the fallout from whatever had just made him mad.

"What the hell is up with the shitty phone service! I knew Umbrella buying up United Telecom was a terrible idea. Told everyone, Umbrella can't manage a damn phone company. Had nothing but problems with them for months now. But, no, no one listened to Dawes. Never fuckin' do!"

Apparently his phone was down, too. Rae took that as her cue to flee and tried to shrink away. She managed to inch a few steps away before he grabbed her arm and smashed a crumpled up piece of paper into her hands, told her to go 'use a damned payphone to call about this shit', then promptly slammed the door of his office open and disappeared inside. She blinked in confusion, staring at the door for a moment. Okay? For good measure, the man had even closed the shutters behind the door glass. Jerk! The poor paper in her hand was a business card for United Telecom with a number to call and a few stains on it. She didn't want to know what they were. Why was this suddenly her job? He was the owner of the stupid building, so he should go do it! She stuck her tongue out childishly and turned on her heel to go find a payphone.

Hands shoved into her pockets, she hunched over in her walk to the nearest unoccupied phone booth. It was usually hard to find an empty one during midday, so she wasn't surprised when she had to walk a few blocks. Trying to ignore the sensation of water sloshing in her tennis shoes, she lamented not putting on something waterproof. Then again, she hadn't expected to be sent on a trip across town in the rain. She quickly ducked into the booth before it could be taken and dropped a quarter in the coin slot. Dawes owed her a quarter now, too. She was just petty enough to request he take it off her rent this month. She dialed the number on the card and was met with waiting music. The young woman wrapped her arms around herself and stared out the foggy windows of the box. It wouldn't be too surprising if she was waiting there for a while, given that quite a few people's phones had probably gone down. She'd be irritated if she went back home and everything was perfectly fine and all this was for absolutely nil.

The music suddenly stopped and the phone sounded like it was being picked up. Then a click sounded and her call ended. Had she just been hung up on?! Well, that was complete bull! Complete and utter waste of money. Rae huffed and almost slammed the phone down. So she dialed the stupid number and called again. This time the phone didn't even connect. The line was busy. Oh well. It wasn't like she used her phone too much anyway; besides, this was Dawes's job. Then, she quickly remembered. Oh, right… Dad. He was probably freaking out over her dropping a call. Hell, she could picture him gearing up and getting ready to come find her. She rattled around her pockets for another quarter. If she had known she'd be sent out on a quest across the city, she'd have brought her wallet with her, too. She managed to find another one before dialing her dad's number as well.

The man was about as hysterical as she thought he'd be. Apparently, she'd been right about him getting his gear on. She could hear the police radio humming in the background. And the jingle of his uniform, even over his frantic talking. The college student gently placated him, assuring him that she was fine. She told him that her phone had gone down, and that her building owner was a complete jerk. And lazy. And that she was currently roaming the streets doing his bidding, like the minion of some supervillain. That got a laugh from him, though it was strained. Worry wart.

"I'll be fine, Daddy. I'm a tough girl, remember?"

"I know, Chevy. Just please stay safe. Oh, and don't go anywhere near Clements if you can help it."

Clements? She wondered why he was so worried about Clements. She lived in the Murphysboro neighborhood and they were at least twenty minutes apart by bus. Besides, she didn't have any reason to go there anyway; the only things in Clements were businesses and pricy, high-end clothing stores. Rae could shop in Rhodes to the east for a quarter of the cost—and it had some vintage movie stores, so that was a plus.

"I don't really get out much, so I don't have much reason to go there. Why? Something happening in Clements?"

"Jeez, Chevy, don't you watch the news?" Rae turned red from the rebuke. She hadn't exactly gotten around to having cable television installed. Besides, her neighbor across the way usually filled her in on the big stuff. Miss Vasquez was very reliable. "I heard about it from Joe Watson—old high school pal—at JavaTech. Apparently there's some civil unrest. Police called, people arrested. Isolated incidents so far, but you know how quickly things like that can get out of control. Promise me that if anything happens you'll go to that police station down the road from you."

"I promise." She was leaning against the glass wall of the payphone now, lost in thought. She hadn't been aware of any upheaval in the city, but then again she wasn't exactly a social butterfly. Hell, she had two friends and she still hadn't even asked Jake's last name! She was pretty well out of the loop. Rae let out a sigh; she really needed to buck up and call someone to set up her television properly. "I'll hunker down and watch some movies, or something. I don't have anywhere to be until Sunday, anyway."

"That's my good girl. It should calm down in a few days, Chevy. If it turns into a riot don't go outside. Not that that would even be an issue with you, you recluse." His laugh was strained. "And if you have to, remember what I taught you." The phone gave a ding, warning her that her time with him was almost up.

"I will. Love you, Daddy. Say hi to Mom for me."

"Kay. Bye. Love you—" The machine cut him off.

Power outages, unrest in the city, the phones being down… And now it was starting to get foggy. Why did this feel like the beginning to a bad horror movie? She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose in thought. City life was so much crazier than she'd thought it would be. She was startled out of her thoughts by a loud thud on the glass. Jolting upright, she wiped away the fog from the windows and nearly let out a screech as the face of a man was pressed against the glass.

"Hey, sweetheart! Go somewhere else to powder your nose or whatever; some people have calls to make!"

She tried to calm her heart as she made her way out of the booth. The man, impatient, almost smashed her against the folding doors as he shoved himself past her. Jerk! At least he could've waited until she was out of the way before trying to get in the box. The rain had stopped, but now there was a thick layer of fog covering everything. Rae trembled in the cold, pulling her jacket around herself more firmly. The goosebumps on her arms were from something entirely different, though. Why was dread roiling in her stomach? She had such a bad feeling about everything, which could only be attributed to paranoia and watching way too many horror movies before bed. She shuddered and began the long trek back home. The city suddenly felt creepy.

:.:

The phones never came back on. Two full days had come and gone with nothing resolved. It was understandable, especially if there was unrest in the Clements District. That was where their phone company was based, after all. It made Rae wonder if Umbrella was the target of the 'unrest'. She heard that they'd only recently laid off over three hundred employees. Maybe everything had just gotten to be too much? Maybe this was the breaking point? Maybe the workers had enough and organized a strike? In any case, Rae wanted her stupid phone to work again so she didn't have to leg it to a payphone every time she needed to call. She wished she had a mobile phone; if only they weren't so expensive!

According to Miss Vasquez, who was still a very reliable source of information, the unrest had turned into mini riots. There was talk about cordoning off Clements and bringing in the military to quell the disturbances. Fires were burning, traffic gridlocked, mass hysteria, people assaulting each other. Miss Vasquez's cousin had apparently seen a man biting another man's face. What was it with all the biting lately?! Seriously, could people stop being psychos for five seconds? Of course, Rae took all of this with a grain of salt since gossip had a tendency to blow things out of proportion. It sounded a bit too crazy to be true. The news hadn't officially reported anything on it, according to Tiffany. Rae's friend hadn't even known there was trouble in Clements until she'd phoned from the booth to check in. Even Rae's crazy in-the-know dad hadn't heard anything other than rumors—though that hadn't stopped him from fretting her ear off the night before about coming back home and waiting for everything to blow over.

Rae laid down on her sofa, lost in thought. She took a peek at the mini calendar on her coffee table; it was the twenty-fourth. Tiffany's birthday was less than a week away. She'd have to work on getting a gift. What did people usually get for their friends' birthday? This was honestly the first time she'd had a good friend. Wow, that was a sad thought. Sighing, she acknowledged that she was probably a complete failure of a human. Deciding to do the mature thing and eat her feelings, she shoved popcorn into her face.

Today she'd chosen a zombie movie from the sixties. Probably not a great choice, since she was already on edge from the potential rioting in the city and distinct lack of a phone. Still, it was a classic. Rae laughed as one of the zombies broke through a pane of glass to grab the jerk stereotype and munch on his shoulder.

"And that's why you never stand in front of windows, idiot," she muttered through a mouthful of popcorn. "Or go off by yourself." Rule number one in a horror situation was 'stick together', yet every movie ever seemed to break it. In fact, Rae was convinced that horror movie characters went out of their way to be as stupid as possible. She'd like to think that if she were in a horror movie, she'd at least be a bit more genre savvy than a goldfish.

This particular movie was the first in a pretty long series. The first couple had been pretty cheesy, low budget things with bad acting and low quality special effects. They had a pretty good story, though, and the camera angles could make the jump scares surprisingly terrifying. If she remembered correctly, the fourth was considered a masterwork of cinema, though she'd never seen it. Then they got a big budget and let the money go to their heads. They'd turned the series into some sort of weird mashup of action thriller and helpless suspense. Seriously, who looked at a horror movie and said 'this zombie flick needs more explosion and car chases'? They jumped the shark, the president turned into a zombie, the whole nine yards. Rae rolled her eyes. It was a silly decision, but she'd recently heard that they were remaking the earlier movies with modern tools in an effort to resurrect the beloved classics and take the whole thing back to its roots. Good for them.

God, she knew more about a stupid movie series than she did gift-giving. Maybe Tiff wanted a Walkman? Rae's dad seemed to really like his, and Tiffany was a music person. How much did a Walkman even cost? She imagined she'd probably have to get a used one from the pawn shop a block over. That or sell one of her kidneys on the black market. Though, she was very attached to her body parts. Rae felt like a boob, laughing at her own silly joke.

The rain continued to fall, even in the darkness of the night. Rae could see the neon sign of the restaurant across the street, glowing brightly as always. The Thai place had been surprisingly quiet all day. The sweet old lady who owned it was ill, according to her son. Rae had been saddened by that and had sent her well-wishes, but hadn't seen either member of the two-person family since that morning. Usually the son would've been outside cleaning off the windows or knocking spider webs form under the front awning. Wow, his mom must've really been sick. The thought made Rae's stomach turn. She really hoped it wasn't serious. The family had been incredibly kind to her ever since she'd moved in and become a regular patron of theirs.

A repetitive thudding noise made her roll her eyes. The woman next door let out a series of sharp moans. Seriously, were her neighbors back at it again? Rae turned the television up in response. The banging grew slower and less rhythmic as time went on. Come on, guys! Give me a break, she thought grumpily. The movie in front of her cut to a couple. The man had been bitten at the beginning of the film and was starting to turn. Stupidly, the woman clung to him and pleaded for him not to give in. Like that was going to change anything. The actress on the screen caressed the man's face, getting dangerously close to his mouth. Even with the dated effects and odd acting, the scene was gut-wrenching.

"Don't do it," Rae admonished softly, though she knew how it'd end. She'd seen the movie play out many times. "There's no saving him." People with bites always became zombies in the end. It was frustrating for Rae because they never said anything, never told anybody. And even in the off chance that everyone was aware of the bite, nobody ever did anything. It was mind-boggling! She'd rather be put down as a human than turn and kill her loved ones.

The woman declared her love for the man and pulled him close, just in time for him to tear into her throat. She held him, even as she lay dying in his arms. Rae watched carefully as the man came to realize what he'd done. He let out a howl of horror as his love bled to death on the tile floor. Even in black in white, the scene was gory. The infected man threw back his head and…

A bloodcurdling scream echoed around the apartment building. It tapered off, as though silenced. Rae, startled, paused the movie and surged up from her place on the couch. Popcorn went everywhere as she knocked the bowl to the floor. That had come from her neighbor's room. A feeling of gnawing dread filled Rae's stomach as she walked over to their shared wall. She'd never heard the woman scream like that. Maybe sex really was that good and Rae was seriously missing out. Or Rae's next door neighbors had just been brutally murdered and she was standing there being a boob and musing on their sex life. Rae couldn't hear any sound coming from their apartment. She pressed her ear to the wall, highly aware that she was being a bit creepy. Nothing.

Worried, Rae wrapped herself up in her red throw blanket—a last gift from her feeling of it was comforting as she made her way out her door and to the front entrance of her neighbor's shabby apartment. Others were poking their heads out of their own rooms, eager to see what was going on, but not concerned enough to check. Rae wished they'd just go back inside and stop making a spectacle of things. That was one of the things she missed about Huntsville: your neighbors were nosy, but at least they cared enough to check on you if something bad happened. The people of the city were cold at the best of times.

Rae knocked shyly on the door. "Hello. I heard a scream and wanted to make sure you're okay." She listened for a moment and could hear some quiet groaning and shuffling. So there was somebody in there? Why weren't they responding? Rae gulped and pounded on the door. "Hello! This is your next door neighbor! I just wanted to make sure everything is fine with you guys! Can somebody please answer?!" Silence.

"What's going on here?!" Dawes was making his way past the residents with a furious look on his face. "Them again? How many noise complaints are they going cause until they learn to be quiet!" Dawes pushed Rae's smaller figure aside and slammed his fist into the door so hard that it groaned. "Keep it down or I'll be charging you another inconvenience fee on your next billing cycle!"

"Mr. Dawes… I think something's wrong in there. What if they're in trouble?"

"What do you want me to do, girl? I'm certainly not going in there and the phones are down. Want to call the police? Go find a payphone and do it yourself!" Rae shrank away from the man as he pushed past her with little care. She wiped off her cheek, where some of his spit had hit her during his rage. On his way down the stairs, Dawes added, "Everybody get their asses back inside your own rooms or I'll charge you as well!"

Rae watched as her neighbors slowly made their way back inside of their own rooms. Their doors all squealed shut until she was the only one left. Not even Miss Vasquez had come out to check on the sound. Was nobody else even remotely concerned about that scream? Or was she still not well versed in city life and this was pretty standard? She pressed her ear to the door and heard the groaning even closer now. She jolted back in surprise when a loud thud sounded and the door shook it its frame. Warily, she eyed the wood as it once again shifted. Was somebody throwing their weight against it? Maybe they were trapped inside?

"Um… Hey. Are you trapped in there? Do you need help?" A low, gritty moan answered her. Why weren't they speaking to her? What if somebody had a stroke and they weren't able to speak? She didn't know her neighbors well enough to say for sure that it was something health-wise, but them not answering was pretty concerning. "I'm going to call the police, okay? Just sit tight!"

Rae bolted back into her apartment. She shuffled out of her matching PJs and threw on a long sleeved shirt and some thick winter leggings. On her way outside, she grappled with her lace-up combat boots. They were a chore to get on, but were the only waterproof shoes she had. She did not want a repeat of the other day, when she'd had to leave her shoes over the radiator to dry them. Roll of quarters in her hand and SSU lanyard securely around her neck, she tore out of her apartment building and down the street. In her hurry, Rae was only half aware of just how vacant the streets were. It was a little past ten o'clock. Usually people would be crowding them right up until midnight, when the shops started to close. In fact, Rae was creeped out by just how quiet everything was. Most of the shops seemed closed already, and the ones that weren't were mostly empty. The city was shutting down early tonight, apparently. She wondered if it had anything to do with the riots or if it was the awful weather.

She entered the nearest phone booth, which was miraculously empty. Fumbling with the rolled coins in her hand, she pulled a few out and set them on the counter next to her, just in case. The blue paint on the buttons had long since been worn off by the pressing of countless fingers. Emergency numbers were listed underneath the phone's receiver. Murphysboro Emergency Dispatch… She dialed the number provided and waited as the phone connected. A homeless man limped past the phone booth, groaning in pain as he went. Rae's lips quirked down in pity. Poor guy; it had to be awful living on the streets, especially with how wet and cold it'd been the past few days. The line began beeped at her repeatedly. Busy? Why was the line busy? She popped in a few more quarters after waiting and dialed again: busy. She tried a third time. The beeping continued. What was going on? This was an emergency! She needed help!

Rae hung up and found herself pressing her forehead against the cool metal of the phone case, paying no mind to the fact that it was probably absolutely filthy. She knew for a fact that they only got cleaned once a month at the most. Still, it was soothing on the stress headache that she'd been getting. Having been the only child of an overprotective cop—and a mother who'd passed young—Rae had been fairly sheltered growing up. When she'd received her diploma, she'd decided to jump into college life with both feet without testing the waters. Moving out, getting a job, going to school had all been a challenge. Even with her movie collection and fuzzy socks the city had never quite felt like the home that Huntsville was. She was stressed. She probably had been for a while and it just took her neighbors suffering an emergency to push her over the edge.

The phone rang once more before giving her the busy dial tone. She huffed. Well, then she'd just have to try again. The young woman reached over to where she'd left a pile of quarters, only to find that she'd used the last. Darn. She blew on her cold hands and tried wrestle more out of the bank roll when something smashed into the glass behind her.

Whirling around, half expecting to find the impatient man from two days ago, she prepared a barbed insult. Instead, she let out a strangled gasp. A man's face, minus a nose and one eye, was pressed against the glass. His blood hand slapped repeatedly against the shell as he groaned in displeasure. His single eye was milky, glazed over and unseeing. Rae shrank back into the booth and ducked under the phone rig in a vain attempt to hide. What the hell was going on?! The man continued slapping his hand against the reinforced glass ineffectively before seemingly giving up and slumping away. What. The. HELL?! Rae crawled on her hands and knees, uncaring of the filthy floor. She wiped the fog off of the glass just in time to see the man reach another person and sink his teeth into their arm. The other man screamed and Rae had to resist releasing one of her own.

Other shambling shapes came out of the shadows and fell on top of the helpless man. The pile writhed until the screaming died down and there was complete silence. Were they… eating him? She felt bile rise in her throat. Oh, God! For a long moment, she wrestled with her disbelief, there on the dirty floor of a public phone booth. They were zombies, right? Like in that stupid cheesy move that she'd just been watching? She tried to even out her breathing. Heart hammering in her throat, she peered out of the clear section of glass. The pile was beginning to disperse. How long had this been going on? In horror she realized that this was what the upheaval was… people were turning into zombies. Suddenly Miss Vasquez's face eating story didn't seem like such a crazy rumor. The drunk that she'd seen the other day must've been recently turned. Oh, God. It'd been spreading over the entire city! That was why the phone lines for the police station were busy!

Rae shook, leaning against the wall of the phone booth. She wouldn't be safe if she stayed there. The booth wouldn't be able to protect her from a serious zombie, let alone if they became a horde. In fact, she wouldn't be safe anywhere in the city. Not with such a large population. A car wouldn't be able to get through town if they were crowding the streets, not that she had one. Going on foot would not only be dangerous because of the zombies, but it was only a matter of time before the infected areas were placed under quarantine and locked down. The military would be dispatched for sure to control the situation. Nobody was getting out of the city. Maybe she should head to the police station like her dad suggested? She hugged her knees to her chest. It didn't matter if she had a game plan if she was going to be stuck in a phone booth for the rest of her days. First, she needed to get back to her apartment.

Cautiously, Rae crept over to her vantage point again. The man who'd been attacked had gotten up and was now roaming aimlessly with what appeared to be his intestines hanging out. Definitely undead. She almost threw up in her mouth. There were more of them, now. It was probably luck on her side that she hadn't run into any on her way over to the phone booth. She thanked whoever was listening for that stroke of fortune. The zombies seemed slow-moving; well, duh, they were corpses. Maybe she could make a break for it? No, if they cornered her it'd be all over. Slow or not, it'd be the end of her if their numbers continued to grow and she got trapped. She'd seen that happen in enough movies to know. She watched one of them trip over a trash can that'd been upturned during the commotion. At least they weren't very coordinated. Wait… Maybe they were blind? The earlier undead's eye had been glazed over and he didn't seem to be aware of her presence. After all, wouldn't he have tried to get into the booth earnestly if he'd seen her? If they were blind and relied on hearing to find prey, she might have a chance to sneak past.

Rae breathed in shakily. But she was still gambling with her life if she decided to leave the booth. Hell, either way she was gambling with it. It was either try and fail or do nothing and fail. She had to get back to her apartment first if she was to have any hope for survival—that much was certain. Gathering her courage, she stood up. "Let's do this", she whispered silently to herself. The phone booth door opened without a sound. She was grateful that it didn't give her away and she mentally thanked whichever city worker had maintained it last for oiling the hinges. She tried not to think that said city worker was probably a member of the undead now. So far, so good. As calmly as possible she walked a few feet. The undead continued their wandering, not taking any notice of her presence.

One of them teetered closer to her, little by little. It still seemed unaware of her, at least. Sucking in a breath, Rae shuffled backwards. Her foot knocked into a beer bottle which clattered on the ground as it rolled away. The noise got an instant reaction. All of the undead let out a huff and turned in her direction. She bit back a scream of terror as the one closest to her let out an inhuman screech and lurched towards her. No. This is not how it ends! This isn't… The creature was less than yard away, baring its bloodstained teeth. Rae felt her heart stop. She was going to die here. Rae placed a hand over her mouth to quell the rising sobs. This was how she was going to die. She closed her eyes and prepared.

A woman down the road let out a horrified scream. Rae peered through tear-matted eyelashes. Time seemed to stop as the zombies groaned and turned in the other direction, moving off towards the sound of the woman. Only the one in front of her remained. This one was nearly intact, aside from the hideous bite wound that had taken his windpipe. His glassy eyes surveyed where she stood. His nostrils flared. Could he smell her? Blood gurgled out of his throat with each searching inhale. Seemingly satisfied, the zombie turned away and followed his brothers and sisters towards yet more carnage.

Rae had been right. They were blind and relied on other senses to find prey. But why hadn't he smelled her? He'd been close enough that she could feel the rancid air that he exhaled. Certainly she'd been close enough to be an enticing meal? She pulled at the fabric of her sweater and breathed in deeply. Maybe the scent of her detergent had covered up her natural human smell? Tears rolled down her cheeks. Either way, she was alive; that's what mattered in the end. Her hands shook from the heady combination of unadulterated terror and unrestrained relief. A part of her was disgusted at herself for feeling such a positive emotion from what was most likely that woman's death, but it was a very tiny part tucked away in the back of her mind. The larger part was grateful to the woman, because Rae was still alive and unbitten.

Droplets of rain began pouring down once again and Rae was happy because they'd go even further to disguise her scent. Rae armed herself with a loose pipe that she'd found on the ground. It wasn't a firearm, but it was quiet and wouldn't attract unwanted attention. The only problem was that she'd have to get close to use it, which didn't sit well with her.

If she wanted to survive, she'd have to use all her horror knowledge. The main roads would be wider, but they'd also be heavily populated with undead and people fleeing alike. She could hear the frantic honking of cars from the next street over. Parsons Avenue—if she recalled correctly—which was two lanes of traffic on either side and always packed bumper-to-bumper. Curiosity got the better of her and she poked her head out to survey the scene, being cautious enough to stick to the shadows of the alley. Most of the people seemed not to be aware of their situation and instead were frustrated with the standstill traffic. Car horns were honking in a vain effort to get somebody to move out of the way. Rae watched a woman leave her land-locked car, only to get grabbed by the ankles by a legless torso. Occasionally somebody ran past, screaming. The main streets would be mass chaos now, just like this one was. Back alleys, then, Rae decided.

The trip took twenty minutes longer than she would've liked. She walked quietly and at a sedate pace, hands wrapped firmly over the keys on her lanyard to keep them from jingling. Her body shook and trembled, while tears fell down her face. She couldn't feel them for the rain, but her eyes stung enough to tell her she was crying. The back alleys took her a strange roundabout way and spat her out somewhere a block away from her apartment building. She moved slowly, deftly avoiding litter and puddles that might give her position away. Her hand was so tense on the rusty pipe that it was beginning to cramp up. The few undead that she'd encountered had to be handled with caution. Her pipe was a last resort and probably wouldn't even kill one of them no matter how hard she swung. So she skirted around them as far as possible, in some cases pressing herself against the walls of buildings and letting them slowly move past. The trip left her tired and on edge.

Dark shadow of her apartment towering over her, she allowed herself a short rest. Wearily, she leaned up against the faded brickwork building and gathered her thoughts. Assuming that her sex fiend neighbors had turned, the place was most likely overrun. If the door had managed to hold and her neighbors were contained, then she needed to work on barricading everybody inside. But what if one of the others was also infected? She'd have to do a bite check as well. A panicked thought raced through her mind and she held out her left hand, eyeing the wound from Markus. If they did a bite check, then she'd be outed for sure. It wouldn't matter if she explained that it was from days ago and a totally uninfected tantrum-throwing child, she'd be booted. Rae needed to be smart about this. If she wasn't, the situation could rapidly spiral out of control. Or they wouldn't believe her at all. After all, who'd believe that the literal zombie apocalypse was at their front door without proof? Maybe she could show them the walking corpses in the apartment next to her; surely that'd be enough?

Rae's hand lingered uncertainly on the pushbar of the apartment's back door. Maybe she was overthinking all of this. The rational, unfeeling part of her brain was telling her to forget the others and grab what she needed to survive alone. No, Rae admonished herself, rule number one is 'never go off alone'. She needed other people if she was going to survive, just maybe a smaller more specialized group. Her original plan had been to head to the police station, where they were not only armed but well trained. A lump formed in her throat. Were they equipped with enough resources to handle such a large population? Surely they'd be the designated evacuation spot in an event like this? Or maybe that amount of people would bog them down? It was so difficult to think! The more she thought about it, the more she found her mind clouded by doubt. What should she do? She left the pipe on the ground outside.

Mind racing, she entered the building. The lobby looked much the same as she circled around to the front office. The front entrance showed no signs of forced entry, and she could barely hear Dawes' soap operas playing on his office television. She looked at the clock; surely it was time for him to have gone to bed by now? The excitement earlier must've thrown off his schedule. Shaking her head, she made her way upstairs. She quietly entered the second floor hallway and made it to her door without problems. A quick peek at her neighbor's door revealed that it was still closed. Thank goodness! The apartment building was old, so the doors were heavy solid wood. Hopefully, it would hold for a long while. Then she looked at the door that rested across from hers. If she did anything tonight, She'd have to check on Miss Vasquez.

Rae made sure to lock the door behind her and turn on all the lights in her apartment, checking it thoroughly just in case. She was not getting snuck up on by some hidden evil. She'd seen it happen in enough movies, thank you very much! After two full sweeps of the one-room apartment and a few paranoid glances at the tiny bathroom, Rae was absolutely certain that she was the only one there. It was a comforting thought.

She knelt next to her rickety bed and pulled duffel bag and lockbox from underneath. The duffel bag she'd once joked, was large enough to fit a body. It'd be good to keep supplies with her, just in case. The lockbox was a little over a foot long and made of a durable material. She fiddled with the keys on her lanyard until she found the one labeled CRC. The lock turned easily with a satisfying 'click'. It'd been a gift from her father, three years ago when she'd gotten her license. He'd only been half-kidding when he told her to keep it with her in the car in case any boys tried to give her any unwanted attention. The machete inside was black carbon steel with a serrated edge at the first few inches and smooth blade the rest of the way. It was razor sharp too. She remembered nicking herself on it the first time she'd ever held it.

Pulling the gift out, she nestled it inside of its form-fitting leather sheath and strapping it to her upper thigh. She took a few experimental steps to test her new accessory. Her dad had done well since the blade was the perfect size and fit snugly against her leg without impeding her movements. It had to have been a chore, especially since she was built a bit smaller than average. She felt a rush of gratitude towards her father, then. Even almost an hour away he still found ways of keeping her safe. Being overprotective had paid off. She remembered her father's pleas to go to the police station and clenched her hands into tight fists. She swallowed thickly, tasting something metallic in the back of her throat. Maybe she should head there? It seemed like the best option. The Murphysboro station had a nigh impenetrable metal fence around it and was pretty spacious, if she was remembering correctly.

Neatly folding her mother's throw blanket and placing it in the duffel bag, Rae was otherwise at a loss for what to take with her. The police station wasn't too far away, so it wasn't like she needed to pack a lot. She decided on a lighter, a folding pocket knife, a small flashlight and batteries, and a water bottle. Was she missing anything? Her father has always told her to pack only what she needed in a survival situation, since too much weight would only slow her down. She frowned at the huge bag. It suddenly felt like overkill to take with her. She rooted around her lockbox until she found a large leather pouch that matched her machete's sheath. Boy, she'd cringed when she'd pulled it out on her birthday, wondering why her dad had opted to get her a fanny pack… But now she was beyond grateful. And she was also wondering if he was psychic and had predicted she'd need it.

Putting her essentials in the waist pouch and buckling it around her like a belt, she cast a glance at the rest of the contents of the lockbox. Sighing and resigning herself, she pulled everything out to take stock of it. Rae hadn't been thrilled with this particular gift. When she'd turned sixteen, she'd been hoping for something, well, different. Her own car maybe, so she wouldn't have to drive her dad's beat up Honda. In all honestly, she barely remembered what was in the box, despite her dad's pleas to take it with her when she moved to the big city. Rae pulled out firm leather gloves, which had the fingertips cut off. She curiously pressed the knuckles of the gloves, only to discover that it rolled beneath her fingers. Ball bearings in the knuckles? These gloves were made for riot suppression… or back alley brawls. Rolling her eyes at his—apparently, completely founded—paranoia, she pulled them on and buckled them snugly at the wrists. She found another pouch, designed to wrap around the thigh opposite her machete. There were two rows of pockets that looked like they were designed to hold gun clips or ammo. Heck, at least it's extra storage space, she supposed.

"Jeez, Dad," she hissed as she pulled out a pack of condoms. "Jerk!"

They went in the ammo pockets. At least she could drop them off with the police as 'supplies'. Some of the stuff was fairly useless or cumbersome. He'd packed vitamin pouches, weird lunch bars that'd expired early last year, a walking stick, a way-too-heavy retractable baton, and some lockpicks—which she had no clue how to use. It was almost like he'd been anticipating the apocalypse or something. Or he'd just expected her to go full commando and start surviving in the woods. She took water purification tablets with her, as well as the strike-anywhere matches. Lastly, she pulled out a left-handed gun harness, which strapped across her chest. If she did manage to pick up a gun, it'd be sensible to have a way of carrying it, she concluded. Examining herself in the bathroom mirror she realized that she did, in fact, look full commando. Tiffany would've joked that she looked like Ripley from "Aliens" if she'd been there. God, she hoped her friends were somewhere safe.

"Wow, Dad, I sure am glad you do everything one hundred percent." Anything less and she'd have been just as ill-prepared as her neighbors probably were. Except for Mr. Castle at the end of the hall; he was a gun nut. Maybe he'd be willing to lend them a few weapons? She'd have to talk to him. It wasn't likely, but at least she had a goal now, besides running blindly to the police.

To finish the look, she rooted around in her drawers for her cream sleep sweater. It'd originally been her dad's, but between his dislike of wool and her cold nature it'd ended up in her hands. The thing was huge and hung off her petite frame. It stopped at her knees, so at the very least it would keep her covered up and warm. She was glad her dad was chubby or it wouldn't have even done that much. At the very worst, it could prove an obstacle in getting her weapon out, but she planned on not having to use it anyway. Besides, it was nice having a piece of him with her. She wrapped her arms around herself and breathed in the scent of the fabric. It was easy to imagine the smell of his aftershave clinging to the material, though it'd been washed numerous times since he'd last worn it. She missed him. She needed him. This would have to suffice for now.

She eyed the giant duffel. She really wanted to take her mom's blanket with her, even though the intelligent side of her brain was telling her to forget sentimentality. It was stupid and irrational, but she couldn't just leave it behind. It'd been her mother's last gift to her; it'd kill her inside to leave it. She knelt down by it in deep thought. The police station would probably be established as a relief center after this, so maybe she should bring supplies? Surely they'd need something with the amount of survivors making their way there? She packed away her dismal first aid kit and looked around the apartment for anything else. Her eyes settled on her cabinets. Food! Of course, she had plenty of canned goods! She emptied her cupboard of everything but perishables and snack foods. They would probably be aching for supplies and if she could bribe her way in with green beans, she was going to do it! With the duffel bag full, she picked it up, testing its weight. Heavy, but nothing she couldn't handle. The police station wasn't too far, even avoiding heavy traffic areas. She shook it lightly to make sure the cans wouldn't clang together and give her away. Thoroughly satisfied with her cargo, she left it by the front door. At the very least, if the thing proved too cumbersome she could drop it and remove Mom's blanket. Or she could fish out some cans and throw them to distract the zombies.

Rae pulled her long hair out of her face and into a messy ponytail. At least it would keep her vision clear and keep it from getting caught on anything. She'd once gotten her hair stuck in their chain-link fence and her mom had to cut it to get her out. It'd been an hour wait during the summer and she'd ended up with sunburn across her pale cheeks. Not wanting to relive the memory in post-apocalyptic nightmare land seemed perfectly reasonable. She took one last look in the mirror to psyche herself up. Once she left through that door, there was no illusion of safety. And once she left, she'd be fending entirely for herself.

When she looked in the mirror, she noted with a twinge of distant horror that she'd burst a blood vessel in her left eye. The sclera near the corner had started to turn an evil looking red. Oh, well. Her appearance didn't matter. She hoped, at the very least, that it wasn't overt enough to make people think she'd started turning into a zombie. She checked her home one last time to make sure she wasn't leaving anything important behind. The television was still on, paused at the moment the man killed his lover. Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned the picture off. There was no point watching it when she was living it. The thought of horror movies suddenly left a bad taste in her mouth.

It was time to brave the streets of Raccoon City, completely unsure if she'd even survive.

:.:

To Be Continued…

:.:

A/N: Again, this is the final version of this chapter! I'm done making edits to it. The few spelling errors that might remain have eluded me several times now, so I think it's only fair to let them live. I might consider doing a 100% overhaul after the story is complete, but I want to focus on getting the actual chapters out until then.