Resident Evil Outbreak: A Fan-Fiction Story

It was a typical night at J’s Bar preceded by months of atypical events leading up to it. Strange incidents had been surfacing all over Raccoon City with reports of people biting and attacking each other. This led many to theorize a strange infection had made its way into their town. The citizens had many questions, but authorities had little answers. Whether they didn’t know or didn’t want to tell was an entirely different question.

A news report played on the TV at J’s Bar, going over yet another incident related to theattacks. Rock music also played throughout the bar to help the place feel fun and lively. A tall waitress with a kind face named Cindy served customers their drinks, occasionally chatting with the bartender Will. All the patrons seemed to casually go about their business, almost as if the escalating events were becoming normal.

A stern-looking man with tan coveralls sat at the main bar on the right side, silently sipping at his drink while lost in thought. In the center was a young police officer in uniform named Kevin Ryman. The bartender Will knew Kevin as he regularly chatted with him and Cindy, often telling them his more interesting police stories and cracking jokes. It was rare that Kevin didn’t hold their attention, especially Cindy. Her eyes often wandered to his handsome face, paying particular attention to his strong chin and beard stubble.

At the other tables—which were actually large barrels serving as tables—sat three other patrons. One of them was a blonde-haired woman in a business suit tapping away at her keyboard. The glass entrance door to the bar opened and in walked a woman with glasses and a black coat hurriedly making her way to the restroom. The woman on her laptop gave a subtle glance at the passerby and quickly resumed typing.

After getting a laugh out of Will, Kevin glanced to his left at two uniformed security guards in their fifties. One was an imposing, barrel-chested man casually eating dinner and the other was a round balding man that leaned against the counter looking far less sober and even less aware. Watching the guard eat for a moment, Kevin noted that the man’s brown face was weathered from some life experience. In fact, he had a familiar stare that implied he’d seen things most men never did.

“Hey, buddy! What’s your name?”

The patch on the man’s uniform only said “Wilkins.”

“Mark,” the man replied between chews.

Kevin raised his glass towards him with a jovial smile, and Mark tipped his back in turn.

“I’m Kevin. Kevin Ryman. How long you been working security?”

He had to ask loudly to cut through the music.

“Bout twenty years now. How long you been at RPD?”

“Eleven years, going on thirty.”

“I hear that, brother.”

The southern lilt in Mark’s voice really came through this time. It was conversational, but Kevin could feel the heaviness of it from something that he couldn’t quite place, but he had a good guess.

“Did you serve, by any chance?”

“As a matter of fact, I did serve in ’Nam. How’d you know?”

“I’ve met enough vets by now that I have a radar for it. Thank you for your service.”

“That obvious, huh? Well, thank ’ye all the same.”

A glint of a bitter memory hid behind Mark’s eyes, something Kevin wasn’t particuarly fond of seeing. He felt a pange of guilt, as it wasn’t his intention to stir up bad memories.

“You’re welcome. Look at this way: Sexy recognizes sexy, right?”

They both had a good chuckle at that.

“Well Mr. Mark Wilkins, here’s to us. Protecting the public and our fellow man!”

“I’ll toast to that.”

They both took a swig and put their glasses down with a chuckle.

“So your friend there...he had too much or is he just not Irish enough?”

Mark looked to his left at his balding partner, who’s head was now laid on the counter.

“Not again. Bob, where’s your mind at? I told you to take it easy!”

“Wh-uh??”

Bob tried unsuccessfully to lift his head and sit up, only to plop back down.

“Dammit, Bob.”

Mark looked over to Kevin again.

“I try to tell this fool every time when we go out and he never listens.”

“Oh well, more for us!”

Kevin pulled out a cigar case and offered one to Mark, who declined with a shake of his head. As the officer was about to light his cigar, his eyes tracked something on the floor. The furry gray shape moved to and fro on the ground until it ran across Cindy’s feet.

“Whoo, oh!!” Cindy yelled.

The waitress comically jumped and dropped some empty glasses on the ground. She looked up to Will with apologetic eyes.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry!” As she picked up her fallen tray, the rat scurried away out of sight.

“Don’t worry about it,” Will chuckled. “Man, did you see the size of that thing?! He should be paying us rent!” He glanced at Kevin before handing off a broom to Cindy.

“That was a big-ass rat! Hey, you an exterminator?!”

Kevin’s gaze drifted to his right at the man in coveralls who seemed to be in his own world. At the sound of Kevin’s voice, the worker snapped out of it and met Kevin’s gaze.

“What?” The man replied in a raspy, gruff voice.

“Are you an exterminator? A huge rat just ran through here!”

The man scowled and pulled out a wrench from his toolbelt.

“This look like something you’d play whack-a-whole with?”

This got a chuckle from Mark and Will.

“It could be. Did you see the size that thing!”

“Yeah, I got it. It’s really really big. Look, I’ve had a long day and trying to relax.”

“Hey, that’s all we’re doing here. Just having a good time.”

“Well have a good time with them, not me.”

As this was happening, a man in a nicely tailored suit intently watched a news report from his table. Apparently, an unruly fan had caused a riot at the local football game when he started attacking and biting people nearby. Nearly fifty police officers had to intervene to calm things down and the number of injured wasn’t yet known.

“Dammit, not again! At least I’m not working tonight. I could definitely use it,” the man said under his breath. “When is this going to end? Keep it together, George. You’ve got this.”

His ramblings caught the attention of a nearby man in a blue work jacket, who glanced up from his crossword puzzle. Before George even read the “Kite Bros. Railway” printed on the man’s jacket, he recognzized the transit worker’s uniform by the striped tie, jacket, and peaked hat sitting on the table.

“You say something?” The transit employee asked.

“No, sorry. Just talking to myself.”

The railway employee rollled his eyes and went back to his puzzle, already annoyed at the blonde woman’s incessant tapping on her keyboard. By now, Cindy had swept up the broken glass and returned to the kitchen with her tray. They all resumed their idle chatter until the front door suddenly fluttered.

Will looked over and squinted for a better look as it was now getting dark. Someone was standing on the other side of the glass door, but he couldn’t get a good look. The person was hunched over and kept leaning in to the door rather than pushing it open, only managing to open it halfway.

“Someone’s had a little too much already,” Cindy whisper with mirth to Will.

“I’ll say. Maybe he can join Bob over there.”

They watched as the person bumped into the door over and over, finally managing to push their weight into it just enough to slip through. In the light of the bar, the figure was now revealed to be a long-haired man in a thick work coat. His posture was slumped with his head down, making his dirty, disheveled hair obscure his face.One by one, everyone stopped what they were doing and began carefully watching him. The stranger took a couple of shuffled steps forward, making his head loll about until he stopped in place and continually swayed back and forth. There was a dark-coloured stain on his shirt, but the lighting was still dim enough to be unsure.

The blonde woman on her laptop raised an eyebrow and watched him intently. Kevin and Mark had a nonverbal exchange before eyeing the mysterious figure. George went wide-eyed, but said nothing while quietly watching with the rest.

Will came out from behind the bar and stood by Kevin for a moment.

“Weird customer, huh?” He whispered.

“Is that blood on his shirt?” Kevin added.

The man in coveralls agreed that it was blood, but said nothing.

“I think so, but maybe he’s hurt or something, “ Will continued. “Either way, he’s giving me the willies.”

“You got that right,” Kevin said matter-of-factly. “Want me to talk to him?”

“No, it’s alright. I’m used to dealing with weirdos.”

The atmosphere was starting to rapidly shift as all eyes were cautiously on the mysterious newcomer. Without understanding why, Cindy instinctively turned down the bar’s music. After swaying in place for a moment, the man balled up his fists and relaxed them a couple of times. The action seemed like a tick or something involuntary, as if someone was trying to get rid of a tingling sensation in their hands.

A loud thump emanated from the one side of the bar, making everyone jump.

“Bob!” Mark cried out.

The security guard jumped off his stool and knelt down to check on his friend. Bob sat up in a daze, knocked awake after his tumble. Cindy rushed over and took a quick look at him. They both kept one eye on the stranger as he stood not ten paces far away.

“Looks like he hit his head,” she said in concern. “Could have a concussion. He needs to be seen by a doctor.”

“I’m a doctor.” The voice came from the man named George. He had raised his hand as he spoke. The statement was announced with such meekness that Cindy wondered if he’d asked it more than he stated it.

“Can you help him?”

“Yes.”

George did stood up but didn’t move forward, warily looking over to them and back to the strange man.

“Are you going to come over here and help us?”

Cindy’s tone was quickly drifting to frustration.

“Yes.” The man stated it more confidently this time. It was becoming obvious he didn’t want to go anywhere near the stranger. Will glanced at Kevin briefly before stepping forward.

“Can we help you with something?” The nervousness in his voice was unmistakable.

He was only met with silence from the man.

“We need you to move out of the way so we can help this gentleman.”

The stranger stayed in place, still swaying in a growing, uncomfortable silence.

“Um...sir?”

Will moved even closer, and the man’s head suddenly raised and twitched. The stranger’s long, greasy hair still partially covered his face, but in that brief moment Kevin could see that the man’s face was just wrong. His eyes either had very small pupils or he lacked them entirely. Before Will could say anything else, the man made an odd sound.

A low, eerie moan rose from the man’s throat. It was melancholy and equally unnerving. His gaze (if you could call it that) locked on to Will as if he finally sensed his presence. George swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump that formed in his throat. Kevin swiveled on his bar stool, slowly moving his feet to the floor. He’d been in situations like this before and could feel when something was about to go down.

Unfortunately, Kevin’s instinct was absolutely right.

Out of nowhere, the man lunged forward and grabbed Will with both arms. All Kevin could see was the man shoving his face into Will’s shoulder, but instinctively knew what he was doing. The bartender cried out in pain and shoved the man away. Will was joined by Kevin, and in mere seconds they ejected the man from the bar before slamming the door shut.

“Holy shit!” The man in coveralls shouted as he stood up from his stool.

Will staggered backwards as Kevin guarded the entrance.

“Oh my God!” The blonde woman shouted.“Did he just bite him!?!”

The doctor finally sprung into action and dahsed to Will’s side, inspecting his blood-soaked shirt.

“I need a first-aid kit, do you have one?” He asked.

“I know where it is!” Cindy replied, and took off into the kitchen.

“Damn, that hurts like a bitch!” Will said. “Why the hell would he just bite me?!”

For unknown reasons, a jumble of thoughts ran through Kevin’s mind as he started making connections that he hadn’t before.

Random attacks. Biting. Infection. Slowly increasing incidents.

But there was something else.

The people that were bit...they never got better.

“I don’t know, but we’ve been seeing it more and more at the hospital,” George replied.

“Who are you, anyway?” The man in coveralls now joined them at the front area.

“George Hamilton. I’m a surgeon at Raccoon General. This is just like the cases I’ve been seeing. After I’ve treated him, he needs to be quarantined immediately.”

“And why is that? Never got his rabies shot?” The man in the subway uniform quipped.

The joke didn’t land, only succeeding in disappointed looks.

“Fine time for jokes,” Kevin chasisted.

“What? Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“He’s actually somewhat accurate. We’ve looked into rare forms of rabies, but that’s not it. If I’m being perfectly honest, we have no idea what it is. All we know is that he needs to be quarantined so he doesn’t spread the infection.”

“Spread the infection? Is he going to bite people too?”

“It’s a precuation more than anything.”

He felt guilty about it, but George didn’t think it was necessary to tell them what was actually going to happen, so he kept the information to himself. The sound of a door closing from the back made everyone pivot to see a woman exiting the bathroom. A younger Asian woman at about eighteen or nineteen stared back at them in confusion.

“What’s going on? Did I miss something?”

“Yeah, everything! Some guy attacked Will!” The subway employee said louder than he intended. “He went right at him like he wanted to rip his throat out!”

The young girl walked over to them and gasped at the sight.

“Are you going to help my friend here, doc?” Mark’s irritation was obvious.

“Once we’ve dressed his wound, I’ll see to your friend. Just don’t let him fall asleep for now.”

A thump from the front door drew everyone’s attention away. Kevin kept his foot propped against the bottom of the glass door and the assailant continued to push his body against it. Some of the others moved to the door to get a better look.

“Oh God, look at his face!” The subway employee cried out. “What’s wrong with his eyes!??”

“Would you chill out with the hysterics, pipsqueak?” The man in coveralls crossed his arms.

“The name’s Jim, plumber-boy. Or would you prefer Mario?”

“David’s just fine. Just keep your skirt from blowing away.”

“Hmph.”

David chuckled darkly as Jim returned to his seat. Cindy watched them both, noticing that Jim was sulking and David was getting a kick out of it.

“He’s like the others from the reports. He’s got to be,” the blonde woman had left her laptop and joined them in observing the man outside.

“I already said that he’s like the others,” George commented.

“Well you don’t need to be a surgeon to figure that out. This whole thing is more out of hand than people are admitting, and there’s even more to it than that. People have been disappearing too, haven’t they, doctor?”

“I don’t know what anything about that.”

“Disappearing?” Mark now had concern lining his brow.

“Yeah. I’ve been covering stories about them and this infection that’s going around. Something majorly stinks in Raccoon City. I would know, I’ve been following the stench.”

“Tssh. Reporters...” David said with deep contempt. “Always making something out of nothing.”

“I only report the facts, David.” She added a touch of venom to the last word.

“How do you know my name?”

The plumber sized her up with a hard stare.

“I know about everyone, especially when it comes to less than legal activities.”

“Guys, now’s not the time,” Kevin barked, now kneeling with George by the two injured.

Before the reporter could say anything else, Cindy returned with a gauze wrap and a tube of antibiotic.

“Thank you,” George said with sincere gratitude. He began dressing the wound, then shot a look at the reporter.

“Wait a minute, you’re Alyssa Ashcroft, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, so what?”

“You’ve been snooping around the hospital as of late.”

“It’s not snooping, it’s called freedom of the press.”

“Yeah, the public has a right to know everything don’t they?” David’s sarcasm cut through their conversation.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Alyssa jabbed, then looked over at the young girl that joined them. “Didn’t you have glasses on when you first came in here?”

“Yea. I...only use them when I’m walking around alot.”

“I’m sure you do. Since we’re all getting chummy, what’s your name?”

“...Yoko,” the girl answered. Alyssa shot her a suspicious glance, then turned back to the situation at hand.

“Hey, you guys hear that?” It was Kevin, and he leaned toward the door as if listening.

“What is it?”

“I thought I heard more moans from outside.”

“More people like Mr. Chompers?”

Most of them turned to give Jim a weirded-out expression.

“What? He chomped him?”

Cindy let out a subdued snicker, then looked embarassed when it drew attention.

“At least somebody’s got a sense of humor around here.”

“Alright, everyone. I have to subdue this guy out here. He’s obviously not going to give this up. Once I’m outside, we can’t let in any more of these...”

“Infected,” Alyssa said curtly.

“Right. We can’t let any more of these infected people in.”

“No...zombies,” Jim added.

This time no one gave Jim a weird glance. The thought had crossed their minds, but they weren’t willing to say it aloud just yet.

“They’re not zombies, Jim. They’re not dead, just...sick,” George lied.

Yoko thought of saying something, but decided it best to stay quiet.

“Whatever he is, I’m taking him to my squad car and calling for someone to get him.”

“Why can’t you just take him?” Cindy asked.

“I’ve been drinking.”

“Oh, right.” She blushed.

“Whatever happens, do NOT let him bite you,” George warned. They all felt the statement weigh on them.

“I think I can handle a sick guy, doc,” Kevin said with overconfidence. Deep down, he wasn’t quite so sure. George silently hoped that he could.

Kevin began to count down on his fingers to open the door.

Alyssa watched Yoko once again. Jim listened intently for any outside noise and gave worried glances. George had Will patched up and was now tending to Bob. Mark wrapped his beefy hand around the door handle, ready to block the entrance at any moment. David watched outside too, yet couldn’t help but rest his hand on the wrench in his toolbelt. Yoko pulled on the straps to her backpack and tried to make herself smaller. Cindy clasped her hands anxiously, hoping Kevin would be okay.

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