Chapter Two

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Chapter Two | Rookie

THE STATION WASN'T TOO far away, at least. You stuck to the growing shadows, easily dodging the few zombies you passed.

        And though you had to shoot three more of the zombies and were wired with adrenaline, you somehow aged to hold on to your hope that the RPD building would be safe.

        One of the gates you had to pass through to get to the station had been heavily roped and knotted. You gave yourself a mental kick for forgetting to look for a knife.

        You climbed the gate and swung one leg over, sitting on the top for a few seconds, staring.

        You saw the heap of burning debris farther ahead, just in front of Umbrella's medical sales offices.

        Damage leftover from the riots, you guessed.

        You thought about stopping to put out the flames, but there didn't seem to be any danger of it spreading in the cement and brick alleyway.

        You awkwardly swung your other leg over and jumped down the other side, knees bending slightly as your legs absorbed the landing.

        Soon, you stood in front of the gates to the RPD courtyard. The rioting had been bad here. Trashed cars, broken barricades, and orange emergency cones littered the street.

        There were only about fifty or sixty cops on the RPD force, and a full third of them were lurching through the wreckage or dead and bloody on the pavement yards from the front door of the station

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        There were only about fifty or sixty cops on the RPD force, and a full third of them were lurching through the wreckage or dead and bloody on the pavement yards from the front door of the station.

        To your right, a fire hydrant spewed a fountain of hissing water into the air.

        The gentle sound of splashing water might even have been pleasant in another circumstance—children playing on a warm summer day.

        Knowing that no fireman or city worker would be coming to fix the gushing hydrant made you ache inside, and the thought of children . . . it was too much.

        You blocked it out, determined not to let yourself start thinking about things you couldn't fix.

        You took a deep breath and pushed the gates open, wincing at the squeal of rusty metal.

        You took a deep breath and pushed the gates open, wincing at the squeal of rusty metal

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