Resident Evil Series Fan Fiction ❯ Survival ❯ Act 2: Streets. ( Chapter 2 )

I let myself fall back, firing the 12- gauge into the face of the closest one of the four zombies. Its head exploded into scattered pulp, the roar of the powerful shot in such a small space did a temporary number on my ears. I ignored the pain and worked the familiar pump-action, chambering another shell even before I hit the floor.

“Uuuuuuh.” The next one let out a pitiful wail of hunger; I recognized her, well what was left to recognize of the fun loving girl I once knew. She'd become a blood covered imposter, a lie, she wasn't who she used to be. Her lifeless eyes screamed accusations at me as her torn body struggled toward me with her outstretched arms.

“I'm sorry…” I aimed and fired, the 00 buckshot ripped her head and shoulders apart, I worked the pump and fired again, and again until they all lay dead, well again dead or whatever. I reloaded my shotgun and told my dog to follow me, he obeyed.

 

The once quiet suburban street was a real horror show now, in front of my mail box a little girl laid dead in a pool of her own blood and insides, she'd been more then mutilated. Her gut had been torn open and most of her body devoured; her face was frozen in a death mask of pain and fear. Several other corpses also littered the ground, all of them missing chunks of flesh and limbs.

 

I headed towards Meijer's, Mr. Parker jogged behind me. I'd gone maybe two blocks and I ran into a barricade, who ever made it didn't realize that the things could come from behind as well, I could see the dead officers on the other side and the zombies tarring hungrily into their flesh. I back tracked and went towards the park, a short cut lay there in the form of a crapaly constructed log bridge over the creek.

 

Luckily most of the area was clear of zombies which made my life easier. For the most part I just ran pass them or simply ignored them. Form the sound of things they had a lot of prey options. I was hearing gunfire and shouts from just about everywhere. However I was pressing foreword, I didn't have the bullets to try and save everyone or to needlessly seek out zombies to kill. After about five minutes of jogging with Mr. Parker following me I reached the park, it looked abandoned.

 

The park itself was basically just an open field, a shallow creek, a basketball court that I'd set on fire numerous times and a playground which I spread expired sardines on one time before. It was surrounded by woods and across the creek were both another open field and a road that was almost a straight shot right out to Central road. I shouldered the shotgun, opting instead for the Beretta.

I entered the park, blood was on the swing set and two zombies patrolled the area, one was a girl I knew; Jesse she hung out at the park late at night to get high she was pretty well eaten. I guess she got high then a zombie came along and well a pothead isn't exactly hard to seek up on. Both the zombies seemed slower and more spaced out than the rest; they were high! I shot them both with the 9mm and moved on. After I'd crossed the bridge and gotten back onto the street Meijer's was only about three blocks away and it was all still residential area. I holstered the Beretta and took the shotgun out to bear again.

Tick tick tickticktick. A sound to my left caught my attention I swung towards it and I saw a true monster. It looked like a man, if a man had no skin; its skeletal form was animated by strange muscles, its fingers tipped with sharp claws, its rudimentary face lacked eyes instead it had two dark abysses where the eyes belonged. I raised the shotgun and its lithe form rushed towards me with frightening speed, I fired and it dodged the thundering blast of buckshot with impossible reflexes. I fired twice more with the same result; it was nearly on top of me.

“Shit!” I swung the shotgun into its face and kick it away from me; it felt mushy as my foot dug into its flesh. The creature felt sponge like, there was nothing solid about it; in fact I thought I heard its bones break. I drew the knife from my belt and got into a fighting stance. I'd learned how to knife fight from my father, he'd learned it in his days as a Marine in Vietnam.

“CREEEEEEEEEEA!” it bellowed a strange cry and I stabbed it through one blank eye socket and it stopped moving save for the brackish red blood that oozed from the stab wound.

“Holy shit, what on god's green earth was that fucking thing. Any thoughts Mr. Parker?” my dog looked up at me confused. I pulled my knife out of the dead beast's skull, whipping the blade off against some grass before sheathing it and grabbing up my shotgun.

TINKTICKTINKTICK TINKTICK more of them! I raised the shotgun and as soon as the first one came into view I fired; the 00 buck ripped its sad excuse for a face off, the other two charged. Not an exceptionally good plan, bum rushing someone with a 12-gauge pump action shotgun. I fired at the closest one, it dodged the pellets but the shot cup hit it in the liver slowing it down for the next shot which at three feet away spectacularly blew its brains out its ass, the other one dodged the last shot.

“FUCK ME SIDE WAYS!” I drew out the Beretta and emptied the entire magazine into its face; I kept firing until it was only moving because I was shooting it.

“Holy fuck.” Now truly out of breath I reloaded the shotgun and then the Beretta and its magazine. Seven shotgun shells, thirteen nine millimeter Luger rounds to kill four of them! Well five of the 9's were overkill on the last one but still…. I sat on the ground for a short time calming my breath and thinking of a name for those things; Jacks, Inside outmen, Beef jerky, Deadheads, Dodger Monkeys, Hunters, Joan Rivers? I settled on Dodger Monkeys and started back on my journey; I heard gun fire in the distance and sped up my jog. Shit the zombies or some Dodger Monkeys must have gotten in! Shit!

I nearly ran into three zombies but they were easily dealt with by the shotgun, Hurry, hurry, fast, fast as if in flight! They need you; the gun fire is dying down!

A police car was in the middle of the road doors open, and engine running a dead officer on the ground and another one that was zombified and it was mulling around about ten yards away. I jumped in the cruiser Mr. Parker fallowed suit, I closed the doors, setting down my duffle bag and I jerked the car into gear and started driving. I thought to myself; I'm running a little low on buckshot loads for the shotgun I had twenty left; soon I'd need to switch to slugs which I have fourteen or birdshot which I have fifty shells of, which would put me at a disadvantage against the dodger monkeys. I still have plenty of 9millimeter rounds left, but the rifle is what worries me; I've only got fifteen .30/06 rounds. The .44 wasn't too low on ammo but those 57 shots would have to count, big time. The .357 is also pretty much empty because we just got it and I only have whatever is in the cylinder for it.

“I should have brought the .22!” I said mentally kicking myself for the lack of foresight on my part; I just grabbed the biggest shit I had, not the most useful. “Ok, so I'm a dumb bastard! Arguing with myself isn't going to fix anything!”

I hit the gas and sped towards Meijer's.

To Be Continued in Act Three.

 

-Kazuki Ferret