Chapter 01: Survive the Horror

Not for the first time that night, she wondered what kind of nightmare she had fallen into. At first, it had been her escape from the gas station, followed by her trek through chaos: running around burning cars and avoiding those things in the streets just to reach the town's Police Station. She had survived all those ordeals without so much as a bruise. Hope had filled her heart when she made it inside the building, only to be dashed when it became obvious the place was deserted. Rooms were locked, shutters were down, barred, and not working.

From the one functioning computer in the Reception Hall, she caught sight of a police officer running for his life and shouting for help. The thought of not aiding the man in distress never crossed her mind. She studied the map on the computer screen, paying particular attention to the room where the camera had captured the officer.

First floor, East Wing.

The shutter leading there wasn't completely down. It was broken in some parts, allowing her to raise it a bit and crawl to the other side. The liters of blood on the floor, oozing and still a bit warm, had disgusted her, but someone needed help, and that was more important than being covered in filth she could wash away later.

Out of luck, the power was off, and so were the lights. Thankfully, she had a flashlight with her. Making her way through the corridors, she reached the correct room. She heard the terrified cries for help beyond the downed shutter, along with someone pounding against it.

She did her best. She lifted the thing and pulled the officer through the small gap. Unfortunately, only half of his body made it. Something else pulled from the other side. So hard it ripped the man in half.

Then, finally, corpses she thought were dead entered the room. She vaulted over the open counter to avoid any fight and ran back to where she had come from. Her luck went from utterly awful to utterly fucked. More corpses burst from a wooden door that had been locked when she passed through earlier. She dodged them swiftly, her heart beating so fast it felt as if it would climb into her throat and escape through her mouth.

The broken shutter came into sight. She hurried as fast as she could, running with all her might. She was almost on the other side, back in the Reception Hall, when one of the corpses grabbed her leg. No matter how much she tried to shake it off while crawling to safety, it wouldn't let go.

‘I'm not dying like this. I'm not dying like this!’

Her thoughts didn't reach her mouth. Screams and grunts of effort did, however. Despite her situation, despite how much worse it had become in the last three hours, she fought to get away with every ounce of her strength. The will to survive was strong and it showed.

But Lady Luck finally smiled on her. Someone grabbed her hand and pulled her into the Reception Hall. With a stomp of their foot, they closed the shutter right onto the head of the corpse. It exploded in blood and gore.

"You alright there?"

She looked up at her savior, hand on her heart to calm it down, her breath heavy and erratic. She nodded and rose to her feet.

"Thank you…"

"Officer… Marvin Branagh." The man replied. He was dressed in a police uniform. One that had seen better days. A hand clutched the right side of his torso, trying to staunch the blood from a wound that looked very nasty.

"Claire… Redfield."

Marvin was startled. "Redfield? Any relation to Chris?"

"He's my brother."

Claire received a nod of understanding. Marvin signaled her to follow him deeper into the hall to a more comfortable space. She didn't mind. Anything away from that shutter and the corpses pounding on it.

"What's happening here?!" She was walking behind Marvin up a small flight of stairs.

"We don't know… Ugh. For sure." At the top, he turned left and sat down on one of the sofas, which had clearly been moved there. Around them were crates and supplies. The area looked like a makeshift camp.

"You have no idea how dead people are roaming the whole town and eating people?" Claire spoke loudly at first but calmed herself mid-sentence. She needed a cool head now, not her emotions running wild.

Marvin gave her a shake of the head. "It started… I don’t even remember. Calls about gruesome murders, attacks, people getting sick… then the dead walking."

He didn't stop there. People were evacuated to hospitals where doctors couldn't identify the ailment. Then more deaths and more dead rising. Martial law was enacted, but it proved ineffective. The number of dead grew exponentially until they outnumbered the living. Panic ensued, leading to accidents. Order couldn't be maintained; there weren't enough police officers. Shelters were created, the Police Station being one of them, but it failed. People bitten by the dead became infected with whatever disease was at work.

It had been a bloodbath. The protections that kept the dead out became bars trapping the living inside when the dead appeared within. The West and East Wings were abandoned, barricaded to prevent the dead from swarming the whole building. Unfortunately, by then, only three remained: Marvin, David, and Elliot. The latter being the one Claire had tried to save. The only safe place now was the Reception Hall.

"What was he doing out there?" Claire wondered why the man would venture into a zombie-infested area—as Marvin called them.

After grunting in pain and removing his hand from his injury to inspect it, Marvin answered. "This station used to be a museum, and there were rumors of secret passages leading outside. Elliot said he'd found something. That the rumors were true, so he left to investigate."

"I'm sorry for your loss. I tried to save him, but…" Her tone was regretful and sympathetic until she remembered something. From the back pocket of her jeans, she pulled a small notebook. "He gave me this before… He said it was important."

Marvin took it with his free hand and opened it with difficulty. "That's his… Elliot always noted everything. If he found what he was looking for, then it's in here."

Claire nodded. "Then I'll let you study it. Do you know where my brother is?"

"Chris?" The officer's eyes shifted from the first page to Claire. "He took a vacation… a month… perhaps two months ago."

"He's not here, then?" Relief bloomed in her heart. The knowledge that her brother wasn't in town fighting for his life, or worse, dead, made her feel good. She still cursed his name for not contacting her. A single phone call of warning would have alleviated her worries, and she wouldn't be here, deep in insanity. "That's good."

"I guess… Ugh… I guess he saw the writing on the wall before everything started. Words around the coffee machine were that he blamed Umbrella for an incident in the Arklay Mountains in July. More than half the members of STARS didn't make it back."

"Did he say where he was going?"

"No clue. Regular police and STARS didn't mingle much. Maybe there's some information in the STARS Office. It's in the West Wing, second floor."

A frown marred Claire's face, but she was determined. "Then I'll go take a look."

"Not like this, you won't." Marvin signaled to a few crates. "Take what you need. There's a small pouch for storing whatever resources you find and a knife. In the other one, there is… Ugh… There is a walkie-talkie to stay in contact with me."

Claire followed his instructions and equipped herself. The knife was sheathed inside a holster, which she buckled onto her belt at her back. The same went for the pouch and the walkie.

"Here… Take a look."

She turned around and saw a laptop in front of Marvin, propped atop a crate. He pointed at a map of the precinct.

"Maps were made of the building, and you may find some here and there. If you can get one, do so—it will help you navigate instead of remembering this one."

Claire nodded and burned the layout of the West Wing into her mind. A ping sounded, and a small red light flashed repeatedly on the screen.

"Hm?" Marvin turned the laptop to face it, Claire stepping to his side to see what it was about.

The cursor went to the rectangle labeled "Entrance," and Marvin clicked. It showed a live feed from a camera positioned above the entrance. A young man with dirty blonde hair, face hidden by a medical mask, was trying to open the double doors to get inside. He carried quite the load: a huge backpack and some tactical gear. The feed wasn't clear enough to reveal more.

"Shit. He's still alive… Ugh… Should have known he'd survive. Claire… could you—"

"I'll let him in."

As she walked down to the entrance Marvin had barricaded, she heard him talking to himself.

"Rick Wald… Huh, if someone can get out of here, it's him."