Chapter 146 - My SI Stash #46 - Resident Evil: Waking Death by Blade8821 (Resident Evil) (2/2)

Yeah, I've got a problem looking normal, eheheh. ”C'mon, let's get moving.” She nodded, gathering herself as I lead the way back into the main passenger compartment.

~~Badadumdunbum~~

Inside, I spotted several bodies lying around.

Seeing two lying facedown in the aisle, I asked, ”Rebecca, how did you put those things down?”

Seeing them, she shivered. ”I- I just shot them. They wouldn't stop, and-”

I nodded, cutting her off. ”Very well. From now on, any of those things, zombies, whatever you want to call them, are to be shot in the head. If you can't hit the head, aim for the legs, then put one through their skull. Anything less than a clean headshot is a waste of ammo.”

Moving forward, I drew my knife, dropping into a crouch as I took hold of the nearest one's neck, stabbing it the same way I had Edward's corpse; through the temple, twist, extract, rinse and repeat.

Once done, I glanced back to the girl. Her face was pale, eyes wide. ”W-why did you-?”

”If this is what I think it is, then nothing short of the destruction of the brain or cerebral cortex will put them down for good. In layman's terms, shoot 'em in the head, break the neck, or remove the head. Forcefully.” I looked back towards the other end of the car, reaching for my handgun.

”Then... Just what is it?” She asked, still slightly shaken.

”The Tyrant virus, a bio-chemical weapon developed by the Umbrella corporation. It essentially reanimates recently deceased bioforms, mutating them into hideous creatures retaining only the most basic of urges; the need to feed. The infection is spread through bites, scratches and fluids; only one in ten million are genetically immune to it, so unless you're feeling lucky, I suggest you keep your distance from the infected. And before you ask, no, there isn't any cure that I am aware of. Once infected, you're as good as dead.”

Turning, I started for the other door when she called after me. ”How do you know all this? And how are you so sure?”

I stopped. ”That, I cannot say. There is much I wish to tell you, but not just yet. Once we're back in the city. You're going to have to trust me until then, I'm afraid. As to your other question, there is only one thing I know of that can turn the dead into flesh-eating monsters, and that's the T-virus. Now c'mon, lets get moving before one of the other deadheads wakes up with the munchies.” Moving again, I got to the door, grasping the handle.

Rebecca caught up, key in hand when she asked, ”Can you at least tell me why you're helping me?”

Hmph. Ack, f_u_c_k it, why not.

”As Edward said, there are various other monsters lurking in the forest, looking for someone tasty to chow down on. I don't fancy my chances of outrunning packs of dogs, either.(I was completely serious, too) And to be honest, you remind me of someone I once knew. Beyond that? Well, it's raining and I've got nothing better to do, so why the hell not.” I shrugged, as she shook her head and I opened the door.

~~Badadumdunbum~~

Stepping through, I raised my gun, checking left and right.

Dark in here, lights are off.

I was moving ahead towards the other door, when the crackling of static filled the air. Rebecca pulled her radio from her belt, responding, ”This is Rebecca, over.”

”Krsshhhhrr...Ecca...is...Nrico.”

Blinking, she called back, ”Enrico? Hello! Enrico, do you read me? Please respond!”

After fiddling with the channels for a moment, the Bravo team Captain came back over the radio. ”I can hear you, Rebecca. Now listen up. We've found detailed information on the fugitive, William Coen. He has been convicted of killing as many as twenty-three people.”

Looking startled, Rebecca murmurred to herself, ”T-twenty-three people?” I merely shook my head at the stupidity of this. They're stranded in the forest, radios are mucking around,(Or he's crinkling some tinfoil just to f_u_c_k with the rookie. Seems about par for the course, what with the incompetance of everything else) there's a cult of cannibal serial(Mass) killers around, and they're worried about a Marine that's on the run and likely has a several-hour headstart?

What the f_u_c_k.

”We've also confirmed that he was institutionalized, so keep your guard up.”

”Captain, I've found a civillian on-board a train, the Ecliptic Express. I've... Also confirmed the death of Edward Dewey.” But something was wrong.(Very wrong)

All that came back through the radio was static. ”Captain? Enrico, are you there? Enrico!”

Nothing but static.

She shook her head, looking troubled.

Well, I better cheer her up a little. ”Am I the only one feeling like we're in some cheap B-rated horror movie?” She looked up at my smirking features, a small smile dawning in her own pixie-like face.

”It's starting to feel that way.”

Grinning like a crazy bastard, I chuckled, snarking, ”Well, at least you're not blonde and I'm not black, so we should be good.”(Seriously. It's always either the hot, busty dumbass blonde or the unfortunate token black guy that dies first. What the hell?)

After a moment of futile resistance, she cracked up giggling, shaking her head. ”You're awful.”

~~Badadumdunbum~~

Rebecca opened the door and I stepped through, gun raised, old habits taking over.

Clear. Stairs on left, sliding door to the kitchen straight ahead. We entered, shutting the door behind us. I was moving towards the stairs, expecting it when the door behind us opened once more, and a certain mullet-bearing former Marine entered, looking between the two of us.

When he didn't immediately turn and scamper off, I said, ”I take it you've figured out that we're better off working together, too?”

He looked startled for half a second, before nodding. ”Yeah. If the dead are coming back with the munchies, we'll stand a better chance of surviving if we cooperate.”

”WHAT?! I'm not cooperating with a-” Just as Rebecca was starting to have her little freakout, my arm snapped out and gibsmacked her.

”OW! What was that for?!” She was rubbing a sore spot on the back of her head, scowling.

Coincidentally, it was right where I smacked her. Go figure.

”For not listening, and for being a gullible idiot. Tell me, did you see the court doc_u_ments on Mr Coen, here?” Okay, time to bullshit my way outta this.

”Huh? Yeah, so what? He was tried and convicted of murdering twenty-three people!”

I nodded sagely. ”And how long did it take for them to convict him? Scratch that, how long did it take from the conviction, to the execution date?”

She blinked, thinking back to that paper she'd read.

As she thought on that and her expression changed to that of dawning comprehension, I patted her shoulder. ”Now you're getting it, Becs. Whenever a trial is sped up and done with minimal publicity, especially something like a good Marine killing civillians, then somewhere along the way, there's a cover-up going on. Even more so when the punishment for it is an execution. And whenever they schedual an execution within a month of the conviction, there is most definitely some illegal backroom deals going on. Isn't that right, Lieutenant?”

I looked back to the subject of our conversation, who looked entirely stunned.(Surprising. Kinda hard to pull off 'stunned' with a mullet)

”How-?”

Beaming, I sniped, ”You don't have the eyes of a cold-blooded killer, Billy. Besides, no good murderer would be caught dead with a mullet like that.”

. . .

Oh, the look on his face was just priceless as Rebecca and I both busted out laughing. We both shared a good laugh at the former Marine's expense.

Heheh. Anyway. Chuckling aside, I started up the stairs, my two compatriots reluctantly following close behind.

~~Badadumdunbum~~

Up topside, we were in the dining room; several fires had broken out, still burning through tableclothes and drywall. On the far side of the room was a lone, elderly man, sitting at a burning table. I remember this.

Resident Evil 0 wasn't my favorite game of the series, but I played it once, one friggin' long-assed time ago, damnit. ONCE!

F_u_c_k!

C'mon, think. The leaches fear fire, right?

Wait.

Burning?

Aha!

On the bar next to us was a box of 9mm rounds, which I passed on to the others before plucking a random bottle of alchohol from behind it. ”Bacardi? Agh, damnit. Why is it always the Bacardi?” I was muttering, dreading what I was about to do. I hate to waste good rum.

Popping the cork, I grabbed the nearest tablecloth, just as I noticed-

JASHIN DAMNIT!

I grabbed the back of Rebecca's vest, yanking her back again, fiercely whispering in her ear, ”What're you, retarded?!”

Of course, she gave me an indignant/puzzled/pissed-off look.(Or some combination of all three. I'd also like to note the very l_u_s_ty gaze she set on the crotch of my trousers. Or at least, I wish) ”What the hell are you talking about?”

I blinked, remembering that they don't know that the Marcus lookalike is a leech zombie.

”That- That thing, over there isn't human. Just keep your distance and watch.” I held the molotov in one hand, and pulled off the nearest burning tablecloth in the other, stalking closer to the disguised monster.

C'mon.

C'mon.

I got real close, before lighting the molotov on the burning cloth, and then flung it over the leech zombie, covering it with the burning tablecloth.

Suddenly, an inhuman wailing filled the air, as the stench of burning flesh filled my nostrils.

I hopped well back, carefully watching as the figure of the man broke down into dozens, hundres of leeches. That's when I threw the homemade explosive, turning and tear-assing back to the others. The instant I was next to them, I drew my handgun, spinning and dropping to one knee, taking aim in that very same instant.

Eyes wide, heart pounding, I watched as the leeches burned, and burned.

And burned.

~~Badadumdunbum~~

Rebecca watched on in horror, as the old man she'd been about to help burst into hundreds of leeches. 'Disgusting!' She shivered, thankful that Roy had stopped her from making that mistake.

And then the man she'd met only minutes ago had made a molotov c_o_c_ktail, burning the things alive. He knew. He knew that thing wasn't human.

But how?

”Burn, motherf_u_c_ker, burn.” Roy muttered, eyes entranced by the flames.

”Eugh, nasty. How'd you know about that, anyway?” Billy was puzzled, covering his nose, looking oddly at the man.

Before he could answer, there was-

Something?

”Afortable, still provides adequite protection against cuts and grazes) through the glass window, reaching down and twisting the handle hard. I felt something inside it give and snap, before I shoved the thing open, brushing shards of glass off my sleeve.(Underarmor long-sleeve, high-collar compression shirt. The ladies looove the pecs and six pack)

Whatta we got?

Handgun rounds, green herbs,(The hell IS a green herb, exactly? I don't recognize it from any botany journals I've read) first aid spray, and a key.

Hm.

I gathered the different items, walking out and nearly into the others as I handed them the different objects, aside from the key.

Billy had an M9; military version of the Beretta 92FS. Decent firearm, but I didn't care all that much for it. When you can only use FMJ rounds, then stick to a larger calibur, ie 45ACP or 40S&W. That way you don't need to put five or six rounds in a target to put him on the ground. Not to mention, such an open design isn't meant for hard use in harsh enviornments. Sand, mud, dirt and grit gets right into the action, f_u_c_ks up the whole gun. I prefer the old short-recoil 1911; much better design. Simple, accurate, easy to work on and very, very reliable if you don't f_u_c_k with it.

FMJ and service mags, people. You don't need a match barrel unless you want 2 inch groups at fifty yards and regular springs are perfectly fine. If it ain't broke, don't f_u_c_k, er, 'fix' it.

Anyway, pet peevs aside.

He only had a few mags worth, so I passed him the ammo box.(50 rounds. Rebecca had gotten most of the last box) Rebecca had the med kit, so she got the herb and spray.(Didn't feel like carrying them, myself)

The key I kept in-hand as I trotted down the stairs and through the door, leading the way as my toadies trailed along behind me. In the next car-

Three targets!

I drew my gun, taking aim without breaking pace. Two in the aisle; first shot through his forehead, second clocked the guy behind him right between the eyes. Turn, one O'clock. Last shot dropped the final Z-boy, who was standing up from a seat; all three of them dropped to the floor within moments of each other.

Gun up, I moved straight to the other door, carefully hopping over the fallen bodies as I went. Tugging it open, I had turned just in time to see Billy trip over one and fall flat on his face.

”Real smooth, Mr Mullet Warfare.”

. . .

”Oh, so you're a comedian, huh?” He grumbled, getting back to his feet.

”I'm a jackass of many talents. And just so you know, if you're going to shoot any of the undead wandering around, aim for the head. Body shots are just wasting brass.” When I finished giving him that bit of info, I tugged the door open, stepping through with my gun raised.

Clear. Moving swiftly, I crossed the car and got to the door just as they were crossing the midway point. I let them through and pulled up the rear, shutting the door behind us. Rebecca looked a little anxious, but said nothing. Hmph.

'Keep it together, police girl.'

I moved past them, down the hall and around the bend, just past the stiff. Second-to-last door of the area; Conductor's cabin. Those two caught up with me, the girl edging warily past her dead coworker, her gaze avoiding his corpse. Ah; she felt guilty, I suppose. Hm.

Pulling the key from my pocket, I unlocked the door and opened it, stepping through with my gun raised.

No surprises in here, not yet, anyway.

”Clear.” I heard the others stepping inside, shutting the door. A quick glance around revealed everything we needed. Pistol and shotgun rounds, a first aid spray, map of the train, button on the wall, and of course, a barely-concealed briefcase that held our ticket outta here.

”Huh... Now all we need's a shotgun. Great.” The former-Marine sniped, rolling his eyes.

”Perhaps,” I took up the shells, getting a quick count. 25 in the case, hell yeah.

Sweet. Opening it, I dropped the 00 Buck rounds into the two empty cases on my belt, the rest falling in alongside the 7.62 ammo. Good to go. I ditched the case, passing the pistol rounds to the other two. They'll need it more than I will.

Now.

I opened the closet and nabbed the briefcase, looking it over. Fairly simple but elegant affair, very well-crafted. Probably very expensive, as well.

”Either of you care to bet there's something useful inside?”

Billy just shrugged. ”Go for it.”

”Don't know. Maybe?” Rebecca mimicked his Air Force salute before they shared a glance, and she turned away with just a leeeetle huff. Heheh, cute.

Pulling my knife as I holstered my sidearm, I sliced through the side bellowing and reached inside, fingers searching.

Aha! Got it. Keycard to the lead car. Alright, just skipped a good fifteen minutes of d_i_c_king around. Now to figure this out; should we head straight to the engine, and possibly stop before the canon, or go and f_u_c_k off for a few minutes, possibly risking an even worse crash than the game detailed?

The decision you make here... Will forever change your life as you knew it.

~~Badadumdunbum~~

Yo. Added some new stuff, a better intro to our anti-hero. Adding new content based on the new RE2 remake.

Someone asked me about Roy. He's definitely inspired by Deadpool, essentially being a superhuman psycho. Not quite completely insane, but definitely walking a razor's edge between sane and insane. His personality, while rather unstable at times, reflects several shades of Nathan Filion; his sense of humor and wit, his casual and irreverent demeanor, etc.

If it helps, you can imagine Nathan voicing him. If that completely ruins your mental image of Roy...

Too bad. Mwahahahahaha.

~~Badadumdunbum~~

There is a shout-out to one of my all-time favorite authors on here, a certain miss Tani2. She has one of the single greatest Resident Evil fics I have ever read: ”Leon? A word please”

That, is the best fic you'll find. Period, end of report. No offense to any other writer or hopeful writer, but if you want to learn a thing or two, go and read her story. Unfortunately, she has not updated the sequel to her RE fic, so we're SOL for now. At least until she remembers that she has an account on here.(Wishful thinking, I know)

Ahem. Even if you're not a fan of romance stories, you'll find more than enough humor in Tani2's works to make it worth the read. I guarantee it. Now, if you want to find out just what the reference was, you'll need to go read her RE story to find out. Mwahahaha.

There's also one from COD Black Ops 2,

Anyway, thanks for reading. I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update this, but rest assured I'll be working on it.