10:30 AM, Turtledove Apartments
Henry had made his way down the stairwell of the building quietly and precariously, terrified that one misstep would lead him into the hungry jaws of something recently deceased. Here and there he'd hear screaming, someone being torn apart by a former loved one, and here he was, powerless and terrified to even help. He just had to keep moving down. He finally reached the lobby, and through the plexiglas window of the steel door, could count six of the undead milling around the room.
The apartment supervisor, Vincent Difono, was shuffling around, a huge chunk of his neck torn off. It was grotesque to say the least, and it made Henry's stomach churn. This was terrible. He looked for anything that could be used as a weapon, and found absolutely nothing in the empty stairwell.
Damnit, what the hell can I do? he thought. Still, there was a clear line towards the door out to the street. At least there he could find somewhere safe; somewhere that wasn't an apartment building stairwell. He took a deep breath, and opened the door.
10:35 AM, Office of Bioterror Security
Director Lansing ran his wrinkled hand through his hair. "I can't believe this," he muttered, looking at the computer screen. One of his aides came to his side, whispering to him.
"Sir, Director Gray from the BSAA is here to see you."
Charles Gray was tired. He'd taken a helicopter to Washington to meet with Lansing about this whole mess; something he wasn't happy about. He had men in the field right now, and he should be at Headquarters getting updates on the situation in Parris City, not coming to some emergency meeting that had nothing to do with how to do his job. At least, that's what he thought.
"Brian," he said, extending his hand to the older gentleman. "It's been a while."
"I wish it were under better circumstances, Charles. I think you need to see this." Director Lansing pointed to a monitor with a video queued up. A man, whose face was hidden in shadows, began to talk. "Greetings gentleman. I would first like to thank the people at Triton Corp for assisting me with my endeavors today," the camera seemed to pan out, showing multiple bodies on the floor; men and women in lab coats: Triton Employees.
"I'd like to be frank," the man folded his hands together, "I was quite surprised to see so much of Umbrella's work carried on here. Enough to help me with my own plans."
"Who the hell is this guy?" Charles looked to Lansing and others.
"He calls himself A. Wesker."
"Wesker? Redfield and his team killed him years ago!"
"That's what we thought too. But this video feed is from today. Whoever this man is, he's at the Triton Offices now."
"Damnit, what does he want?"
One of the aides fast-forwarded the video, and the man in shadow continued. "I will take what the thieves here have done, and I will bring the true meaning of Umbrella's Research to light! The secret to ultimate power; to becoming a god!"
"He's a goddamned madman." Charles Gray looked to Lansing. "What are your men on the ground doing?"
"Keeping quarantine for now."
"Survivors?"
"We have to assume the worst. The best thing to do with be the destruction of that facility before this Wesker character can use it."
"You're wanting to nuke the damn town, aren't you?"
"It's the safest way to ensure nothing breaks the quarantine. "
Charles glared at Lansing. "My men do their job first. You want to set fire to the northwest coast? You tell that to the president."
Turtledove Apartments 10:38
Henry had almost reached the door, when he felt something tug on his shirt, and suddenly felt the ground go beneath him. SHIT! Vincent had grabbed him, and pulled him on his back. The corpse of the former super moaned, his mouth open wide to take a chunk of flesh from Henry when the young man instinctively kicked at the body of Vicent.
The corpse reeled back, and Henry began to crawl, making his way to the door, before pulling himself up, and quickly running out into the hellish world outside.
The first thing he felt was the heat: fires had sprung up from wrecked cars on the road, and some of the fires had spread to the nearby buildings. "Shit shit shit..." he muttered, making his way down the street. He had to find something, fast.
And then he felt something again; something fell on top of him: the body of a woman. The corpse was still moving, and began to chomp at his face. "DAMNIT!" He screamed, pushing the body off of him, and forcing himself back on his feet. His face and shirt were covered in rust colored blood, fresh from the body. He had to get off the streets, somewhere...safe.
He saw the crowds of the undead shambling around. Hundreds upon hundreds of bodies. "Oh god..." he muttered, making his way down an alleyway. He had to find something safe.
Outside of St. Albert's Catholic Church 4:35 PM
Henry was covered in blood and sweat. The sweat, his. The blood? Not his, thank goodness. He had been running down the streets and hiding where he could for hours now, terrified that the next step he took would be his last.
That's when a gunshot broke the silence in his head. Someone was armed! That meant safety, right? He bounded out an alley, and saw a cop ferrying people into a church. A cop! He broke into a run, flailing his arms trying to alert them. He was another survivor! He-
He heard a scream as he neared the door, and a blunt object entered his vision. Sharp, striking pain filled his head as the world went dark.
Burton Memorial Hospital 5:30 PM
Josh was dead, his body torn in half by multiple undead. Now, it was just George Dufrenes and two other members of Alpha Team. George's assault rifle was tossed onto the ground, out of ammunition and useless; his M92fs handgun was the only weapon he had left. Kyle Gaul and Derricus Bole were the only two members of the team that had survived, and here they were, all holed up in a hospital lab. Kyle was bleeding from a wound in his side.
"What the hell...happened to those infected?" He muttered, with Derricus doing his best to keep the man from bleeding out.
"I don't know. This isn't like any of the reports," George muttered. The hammering of the undead on the door was getting louder now. They didn't have much time.
St. Albert's Catholic Church 9:10 PM
"Thanks," Henry said to the French nurse, who had checked on him. "Yeah, someone beaned me pretty bad when I got here, with like a broomstick or a bat or something." All he knew is that it had hurt, a hell of a lot. His head was still throbbing in pain. "What time is it?"
"It's around 9 at night." The police officer had also come to check up on him, it seemed.
"Any rescue teams?"
"Just a helicopter we heard."
"Do we have a radio?"
"We've just been trying to keep everyone calm here. No one's looked around the church yet."
Henry forced himself up, probably against the protests of the nurse. "Couldn't hurt to look around." He didn't want to sit and wait. He didn't want to turn into a meal for those things out there; he just wanted out of here, as soon as possible. "I'm Henry, by the way."
Member
stone
Chronic
Fading Memory
Lemons
Noctis
MrSkimobile
Cao the Exiled
Carlyle
Ladypug
Theyra