The 0714 Files: File #1 Inferno (Remake 2)

Chapter 4

My lips are pursed as I stand with my gun in hand, firing for the third time in minutes. This time being at the man slumped against the wall, blood and brain staining the white paint behind him.

I can hear more screams within the walls in response, but I don't care. I couldn't leave him to turn and hurt others. I couldn't... couldn't leave him like that at all.

It's then I head inside my apartment again. Flicking on the bathroom light before doing the same with the sink, I thrust my hands into the water. The crimson runs from my skin, flushing into the drain as I close my eyes and breathe past the smell of it. This can't be happening. I didn't just kill three people in a matter of minutes.

Zombies or not...

The bile rises to my throat and before I can stop it, I empty my stomach into the sink. The heavy stream washes the coffee and half-digested TV dinner away. I push away from the sink then, not shutting it off as I press against the wall and stare into the mirror ahead. My reflection staring back, a teary-eyed, starting to sweat mess. Spatters of Beanie's blood are in random spots on my pant leg from grabbing and pocketing my Glock.

I have to get to the station. I remember my initial objective now. Wiping my face and abandoning the apartment for the stairs to the lobby without any more distractions. I don't even bother to shut the sink off or close my door as I do so.

I cautiously survey the visible portion of the lobby, not seeing or hearing anything out of the ordinary. The layout of the room has a right wall that juts out, blocking my view of the front desk and the back office. Adam's probably in his apartment right now. Unaware that a tenant in his building was eaten and there are three dead bodies upstairs. How long will the city last if people started turning as fast as Mrs. Newman did upstairs? If everyone at the stadium was possibly turned?

I step further into the room to be sure I'm alone, planning to knock on his door to warn him to get the people out of here faster. As fast as their feet can move them.

His office is shut with a sheet of paper tacked to it.

I approach the door guardedly, eyeing outside the building's glass exit. Tentatively tearing the paper off, it's written in pen in the style of Adam's handwriting.

Some man walked in here with a bite wound like the news has been warning us about for the last couple of weeks... I've decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and have left to drive him to the hospital. Even though I'm not here, evacuate this place immediately.

-Adam

I flip the page over to see on the back is a hastily written memo, in his handwriting too.

Citizens... evacuate from uptown district... ASAP. If unable to find transportation, send tenants to... police department for help.

Tacking the paper on the door again for others who come down, the bleak feeling that Adam might die emerges. Somebody with a bite wound he's taking to the hospital? Something I didn't even think of until now. The news said they were taking the injured there, possibly the infected. If any of them turned, it'll spread the virus amongst staff and unaware patients. First the riot, is the hospital next?

Pushing open the front door, it swings shut on its own as I jog to the sidewalk. Stopping to inspect the road on both sides of me. The street is busy unlike when I first got here, cars and people dart every way down the street. Cars that used to line both sides of the road are gone now too, leaving a few lone cars for their owners to grab.

I run to where my 88' red Buick Regal is parked beside a tree a few feet from the building. I bought it not long ago. Learning after a full day of walking to get everywhere with sore, blistery feet, it wasn't going to work. I wasn't sure whether I'd get away with purchasing a vehicle or not under Umbrella's watch, not sure what I could do for anything really. When a week passed though, then three, and it was still there, I figured they either weren't worried I'd use it to run. Or they weren't going to waste the time on hauling away an obvious piece of crap.