[IC] Resident evil: The escape

[gorgenmast]

i'm at the Knowhere bar in Raccoon Heights with a buddy atm. kinda lame tbh, gonna try to get out of here soon. wby?

Lee gave the text a quick re-read before sending it off. The warm blue light of the iPhone screen illuminated his face as he waited a few moments to see if he would get an immediate response. He soon gave up waiting and slid the phone back into the pocket of his black slacks before killing off his Heineken, the empty bottle clinked as Lee set it onto the booth table with drunken gracelessness. He scanned across the dimly-lit bar and surveyed the other bargoers, most of whom were clustered around the bar itself. The majority of the patrons were dudes of the hipster persuasion - proudly sporting thick-rimmed glasses and bushy, unkempt beards as they sipped from mugs of bitter IPAs. The ratio of girls to guys was pretty lousy, maybe one girl for every five or six guys, and most of those girls were too fat for Lee's liking.

This place is a sausage-fest, Lee thought to himself as he fished his phone back out of his pocket. No wonder Chad likes this place so much.

Lee saw Chad in the middle of a knot of bargoers, carrying on what appeared to be a lively conversation with two hipsters seated at the bar. He had always been envious of Chad's wit and charisma; how he was instantly liked even by complete strangers. And though Lee was perfectly straight, he couldn't deny that Chad was an extremely handsome guy. His hair was combed over into the douchebag pompadour universally loved by dudebros the world over, but with his manicured goatee dressing his pointed jawline, Chad was somehow able to pull it off. His intentionally-tight polo and khakis showcased the physique of an underwear model. Chad caught Lee scrolling through his phone out of the corner of his eye and dismissed himself from his new friends before making his way over to Lee's booth at the rear of the bar.

"Well if it isn't Mister Wallflower, playing on his phone in the corner like the fuckin' dunce he is," Chad quipped, planting a fresh pair of Heinekens on the table. "You swiping right now?"

"Yeah," Lee sighed. "The prospects here aren't that great."

"Bull-shit, my dude," Chad said, sliding the Heineken over to Lee. "I count one-two-three-four... five eligible bachelorettes."

"Buncha fatties," Lee dismissed as he tapped the pink tile of the Tinder app on his phone.

"Like... two of them are actually fat," Chad corrected. "That one over there though, even I might consider taking her home."

"Not when you have the pick of the litter of gay hipsters to choose from," Lee dismissed as the Tinder app presented him with the profiles of young women. He gave a few left swipes as Chad slid down in the booth seat beside him and watched as Lee swiped through the girls that cropped up on his screen.

The first girl that Chad witnessed was a blonde college-aged girl whose profile picture was a mirror selfie of her seated atop a bathroom vanity with a skimpy bikini.

"Paige, 24," Chad read aloud. "Add me on Instagram at-" Lee swiping left on the girl interrupted Chad mid-sentence.

"She was fuckin' foxxy, dude. Why didn't you swipe right?"

"If they only say their Instagram account, then they're just attention whores and don't actually want to meet up."

"Felicity, 26..." Chad read as Lee moved on to the next Tinder profile: a sweater-clad woman with curly hair hugging a toddler in a field of bright orange pumpkins. "Assistant Human Resources Coordinator at Umbrella Corporation. Love the beach, hiking, and nature. Let's go to the zoo. Looking for the Jim to my Pam. She seems nice, dude." Lee didn't agree and once again swiped left.

"Single mom," Lee explained. "And I fucking hate the Office."

Lee swiped left on another two girls before finally swiping right.

"Whoa," Chad interjected. "You swiped right on her? And yet you won't talk to any of the ladies at the bar? Not gonna lie, my dude, sometimes I wonder if you are actually straight."

Lee groaned as Chad began once again with the 'Are you really straight?' routine. He was convinced that Chad only hung out with him for the off-chance of one day getting in his pants, and to Lee's irritation, would always find ways to question his sexuality. It was almost enough for Lee to not even bother spending time with Chad, but even after moving to Raccoon City for work after college almost a year ago, his upstairs neighbor was still the only friend he had in this town.

Lee mentally braced himself for the coming barrage of questions regarding his sexual preferences, but a change in the music seemed to have thankfully distracted Chad.

"Oh shit, is that... Yes! This is my fucking jam, dude!"

The bubbly beat of Heart of Glass by Blondie playing loudly through the bar elicited shouts of enthusiasm from many of the other bargoers.

"ONCE I HAD A LOVE, AND IT WAS A GAAAAS!" Chad began singing right into Lee's ear. "SOON TURNED OUT, HAD A HEART OF GLASS! SEEMED IT WAS THE REAL THING, ONLY TO FIIIIND, ...SOMETHING SOMETHING, LOVE'S GONE BEHIND!"

"Why do bars always do this? Why do they have to have the music so loud you can't even think straight?"

"It forces you to talk right in somebody's ear if you want to say something to them!" Chad practically shouted in Lee's ear. "Makes you get nice and close, just like this!" Chad proceeded to lick Lee's ear. He instantly squirmed away in revulsion, prompting uproarious laughter from Chad.

"Fucking horndog!" Lee snarled.

"You love it, you just haven't accepted it... yet."

"I gotta take a leak," Lee groaned. Chad got up out of his seat and let Lee out to use the bathroom, but not without giving him a playful slap on the ass as he went by.

"I'll try to get you a girlfriend on Tinder in the meantime. Even though, deep down, you'd rather have a boyfriend."

Lee rolled his eyes as he went to the very back of the bar to the men's bathroom. The music, though still clearly audible, was thankfully quieter in here. Lee unzipped his black slacks and the white button up he had worn to the office that day and relieved himself in the urinal. He absent-mindedly looked at the peeling band stickers stuck to the urinal dividers when he noticed the music abruptly cut out, followed by the groans of the bargoers.

Thank god, Lee whispered to himself.

A few seconds of silence were followed by the heart-stopping buzzing of an emergency alert system broadcast. Lee paid little attention to the alert, assuming it to be an Amber Alert broadcast over the phone of the bartender that was using their Spotify to play music for the bar. He reached into his pocket to get his own phone see what the alert was for, and then remembered that he left his phone on the table with Chad. Lee zipped back up and tucked his shirt back into his pants before going to wash his hands. As he lathered his hands with soap, he was surprised to faintly hear the alert system's computerized voice was still talking, though he couldn't make out what it was saying. Odd, Lee thought. Usually these Amber Alert messages were fairly brief, but this one had gone on for at least a full minute now.

As he reached to shut off the water - the lights suddenly went out - eliciting a few shouts from the bar. Lee was plunged in pitch blackness and so he felt around for his way out. Being fairly drunk and in an unfamiliar bathroom, Lee stumbled over the trashcan for the paper towels and fell face-first onto the concrete floor, knocking him out cold at once.

[gorgenmast]

Lee woke to the constant dripping of water from the bathroom faucet. Blinking groggily, he slowly pulled himself off the floor, staring in drunken bewilderment at Chad's smartphone-illuminated face floating in the darkness of the bathroom.

"You feelin' alright, buddy?" Chad said at last, parting his gaze from the phone screen to meet Lee's confused stare.

"What the hell happened? Did you put fuckin' roofies in my Heineken?"

"I was hoping you'd tell me what happened." Chad said, scooching in closer. "You went to the bathroom right when the power went out. I went to check on you and found you on the floor. I mean, I could see you were breathing but even then, I was starting to get worried because it's been more than an hour."

"So you just... left me on the fucking floor?"

"I wasn't sure if you had a spinal injury so I didn't want to risk moving you around."

"What are you talking about, Chad? If you were so worried, why didn't you just call an ambulance like a normal human being?"

"First of all, dude, if you think someone might have fucked their neck or back up, you're not supposed to drag them around because it might pinch your spinal cord and make shit worse. That's what they taught me back when I was a lifeguard. Second of all, I can't call an ambulance because cell service is down."

"That's probably because you have T-Mobile," Lee surmised. "You can't even take a call in my apartment with that shit."

"You've got Verizon and your phone doesn't have service either. Nobody's phone was working at the bar."

Lee reached for his phone back from Chad and checked it himself. He tried calling Chad's number, then the front desk number at work, then his mom's number. Endless dial tones each time. He tried opening up the Safari app and was instantly met with a blank screen. No service whatsoever.

"What the hell's going on, dude?" Asked Lee. "Last thing I remember, I heard some emergency message come on over the Spotify music earlier. Is there some sort of disaster going on? Did the nuclear plant go full Chernobyl or some shit?"

"That message was the weirdest thing ever," Chad recalled. "It cut out halfway through because the power went out, but it was talking about a 'biological hazard' or something. It said you're supposed to stay inside and avoid human contact. I mean, shit dude, maybe the Snake Falls plant really did have a meltdown."

"What did everyone else at the bar do?"

"I think just about everyone else went home to wait this thing out. Obviously I wasn't going anywhere until I was sure you were okay. The bartenders are closing up early, but I think we're the only ones still here besides them."

"Let's bounce then," Lee decided, finally getting back onto his feet. "Uber's probably not going to be running right now, but we can walk back to the apartment in about 45 minutes."

"45 minutes might be a long time to be outside if there's anthrax or some shit out in the air."

"That's true, but we don't really know how long this thing might last. If it's going to be more than a few hours, we're gonna need food and water. This bar doesn't have shit for food and warm PBRs are not going keep us very hydrated."

"You've got a point," Chad agreed. "Let's get out of here."

Ever the germaphobe, Lee wedged his elbow into the bathroom door handle and opened it up without once touching it with his hands.

"There needs to be a law that bathroom doors have to open out, not in," Lee complained as he stepped into the comparative light of the bar. "After you've gone and washed your hands all you do is just recontaminate them and undo everything as soon as you touch that germ-infested door handle."

"Typical Lee," Chad sighed. "Raccoon City's been Chernobyl'd and you're worried about germs on a bathroom door. And that's after you've been laying on the pissed-on bathroom floor for over an hour!"

"Listen, just because we're having a power outage doesn't mean I can't have my pet peeves. You don't see me bitching at you right now about how pineapple has no business anywhere near a pizza."

The bar was dark - even darker than before the power outage when a few strands of Christmas lights strung up over the bar and liquor cabinets behind it were the only illumination. Even with those light strands out, the streetlights just outside the front windows provided just enough light for Lee and Chad to negotiate the bar. Behind the counter, one of the bartenders used the flashlight on his phone to provide some light as he loaded the last of the mugs and shot glasses into a small dishwasher under the bar, ready to be washed the next morning when the power came back on and this strange event had concluded.

"Biohazard apocalpyse ain't gonna stop you from milkin' the clock, huh?" Chad teased the lone bartender as he and Lee made for the door.

"Buddy, I get paid like $2 an hour not counting tips," the bartender retorted as he kicked the dishwasher shut with the back of his heel. "Do you see a lot of generously-tipping patrons in here right now? I'm basically volunteering."

"Hey, if the anthrax outbreak or whatever is happening gets to you before you leave, I'll tell you're next of kin you died doing what you loved."

"This is definitely not what I love. If that were the case, I'd be-"

The bartender was cut off by the front door being thrown violently open, to the point of nearly shattering the sheet of tempered glass that comprised the door. Standing in the threshold was a bedraggled man clad in a hole-riddled sweater and filthy, frayed jeans. A spotty beard of long, dirty whiskers radiated from his face at odd angles. His whole body heaved with every breath as he stared with wide and wild eyes at the bartender. Spittles of frothy saliva dripped from an open mouth, but even more shocking was perhaps the two bloody gashes on his left arm. Tacky, coagulated blood oozed out from around two large tears in the sleeve of his jacket.

"Fucking tweakers," the bartender mumbled under his breath. "Hey, we're closed!"

The wounded vagrant gave a gurgling snarl and stumbled over toward the bar at a brisk pace.

"We're closed, asshole! Take a hike!"

The vagrant was not dissuaded and awkwardly crawled over the counter. The bartender approached the quivering intruder as he crawled over the bar and fell onto the floor and gave him a swift kick across the jaw. To his astonishment, the vagrant did not collapse into an unconscious heap, but only gave an agitated snarl. The vagrant seized the bartender by the leg and with a vicelike grip, pulled the leg to his open mouth and bit down.

"AUGGH FUCK!" Screamed the bartender. "HE JUST FUCKING BIT ME!"

The bartender flew into a frenzied rage against the attacker, stomping with all his might against the vagrant clawing at him on the floor. No matter how hard he kicked, the vagrant did not stop or even flinch. With another yank on the bartender's leg, the bartender was pulled down onto the floor. From behind the bar counter, furious shouting quickly transitioned into terrified screaming.

Lee was paralyzed with fear, though as soon the bartender was dragged down to the floor, Chad had grabbed one of the empty Heineken bottles from their table and bounded over to the bar counter. Gripping the bottle by the handle, he slammed the bottle down against the edge of the counter. Tiny shards of green glass plinked upon the surface of the bar counter and the floor as a very jagged half of the bottle was left firmy planted in Chad's fist. He vaulted over the bar and witnessed the bartender and his attacker struggling against one another upon the non-slip rubber floormat drenched in blood. The vagrant growled savagely as he tore ribbons of bloody flesh out of the bartender's thigh; the bartender's screaming was now reduced to pathetic whimpering as he tried fruitlessly to claw away.

Chad planted the jagged end of the broken Heineken bottle into the shoulder of the savage vagrant. Even as the glass shards drove through the man's flesh and splintered against the shoulderblades, the vagrant was not deterred from consuming the bartender's leg - who by now had passed out from blood loss or traumatic shock. Now was Chad's turn to be paralyzed with fear, slowly backing away from the horrific display of cannibalism that he was unable to stop.

A loud burst diverted Chad and Lee's attention from the dying bartender to the front of the bar. One of the front windows exploded in a cascade of shattered glass. Silhouetted in the somehow-still-functional streetlights were another two intruders. Lee recognized one of thm as one of the bearded hipsters he had seen seated at the bar an hour earlier; the other was a 50-something Vietnamese woman with nearly a quarter of the skin of her face torn off. They stood in amidst the crinkling crystals of tempered glass shards, watching with jerky head motions as the shards continued to pop and clink on the ground. Gradually, their eyes focused on Chad and Lee.

"Run!" Chad screamed.

Chad vaulted over the bar counter and followed Lee as he made his way toward the back of the bar, brushing past the bathrooms toward a rear exit: a metal emergency exit door with a pushbar. The new assailants could be heard snarling and growling as they set off after them. Lee slammed into the pushbar of the door and threw it open; propping it open just long enough for Chad to exit before slamming the door shut into the bloodied faces of their cannibal pursuers. Lee felt two heavy thuds on the other side as he braced the door shut.

Chad and Lee found themselves in in a narrow alley behind the bar; just wide enough for a box truck to drive through. A few municipal streetlights that had managed to stay on in spite of the power outage illuminated the alley in a yellow-orange glow that cast long, dark shadows behind the dumpsters, empty pallets, and other refuse laying in the alley. There were no other murderous cannibals back here, but that was only true so long as Chad and Lee held the door shut. The attackers on the other side of the bar's emergency exit door slammed and clawed against their combined weight. Even while pressing furiously against it, the door creaked open ever so slightly with each slam against it. Bloody fingers reached out ravenously from behind the door. A third growling voice could be heard just inside, and soon a fourth joined the chorus of bloodthirst.

"I can't hold it much longer!" Lee exclaimed. Hands and soon entire arms were reaching out from behind the door. Lee took a glance around the alley, and he took note of a nearby pallet laying against the back of the bar. Without warning, Lee left Chad to hold the bar's rear door shut as he ran over to the pallet.

"Where the hell are you going?!"

Lee pulled the pallet up onto its side and pushed it over to the door, wedging it right under the handle and propping it up against the pavement. Lee nudged Chad away from the door, leaving the pallet to wedge the door shut even as the attackers shoved against it.

"That shit's not gonna hold them, dude!" Chad exclaimed. Even now, the flimsy balsam wood of the pallet was flexing and cracking against the combined force of the murderous throng inside the bar.

"Not for long, it isn't," Lee agreed, starting down the alley and beckoning for Chad to follow. "So let's get the fuck out of here."