000. Sample
> The mansion was supposed to bring safety, an end to the madness the Bravo team had encountered in the woods, on that train and inside the training facility. Instead Rebecca Chambers found only more death. The Spencer Mansion, so permeated with the scent of mildew and old paper that the fragrance of old death almost went unnoticed (god - anything smelled better than those leeches). The groans of the dead couldn’t be heard from the front foyer. It was impossible to differentiate the groan of a dead man and the slight creaking of an old door. The dogs outside were quiet, kept busy by some unseen force, totally bypassing the young officer entering the mansion.
Rebecca’s clip was half empty. She didn’t think about - Her Captain had said this place was safe. The walking dead had to be an isolated incident, right? The adrenaline coursing through her body was now starting to subside and something beyond exhaustion crept into her muscles. Her legs were trembling as the door clicked shut behind her. A thud echoed through the front hall as Rebecca slumped against the door
“Hello?”
Her mousy voice bounced between the walls. The unasked question ‘is anyone there’ was answered with silence. Optimistically she thought that Enrico must be in a different portion of the mansion. This place was huge from the outside, right? Her captain and teammates had to be someplace else. All of them were probably sitting somewhere wondering when the Alpha team would arrive. Everyone except Edward. Rebecca wasn’t that naïve. Maybe it was the fatigue eating away at her optimism but she had an inkling that many of her teammates didn’t make it this far. She wasn’t even sure if the Alpha team would make it this far. Was it really safe here?
Her paranoia was only amplified by the sound of breaking glass upstairs. Grim reflection would have to wait, her gaze rose slowly to the second floor balcony and her hopes immediately sank. This wasn’t safe. Stumbling into the table was a walking corpse. One of its eyes had swollen shut as putrid blisters surrounded an open sore across the forehead. Rebecca mentally counted the bullets in her gun without checking.
Six.
She had six bullets left in the clip. Not nearly enough if the house was swarming with hoards of undead like the training facility had been. Her eyes quickly found two doors - one on the left and one on the right. The main entrance was closer to the door on the left which led into a dining room. Old and virtually unused. Dust caked the surface of the table, turning the mahogany of the chairs a dingy washed-out sepia tone. The shuffling and groaning from above intensified as she moved through the room. God, how many of them were there? She didn’t look, she just kept moving. Carefully, almost nimbly she opened the door leading into the hallway. Distant gunfire echoed from some non-distinct location in the building. Comforted by the fact that she wasn’t alone some of that bravado returned to the chemist as she moved further down the hall.
She froze - one of the undead was shuffling for her. Its pace quickened as it was alerted to her presence. Stupid, careless! Rebecca fired two bullets into the monster before rushing through another door. It wasn’t dead but that wasn’t something Rebecca was going to regret. Kenneth Sullivan might but Rebecca wasn’t thinking about her teammates. Her feet were taking her down the next hallway, she was running without thinking. A muzzle flash - she hadn’t even realized that she’d pulled the trigger. The zombie fell to the ground. A lucky shot.
Three.
Her breath caught her throat; she could hear them around the next corner as she leaned into another door. This one had a coat of arms on it. Didn’t matter - she needed to run before those monsters caught up with her. The smell of rotting flesh was getting worse - obviously the foyer was just a fragile façade hiding yet another arm of the Umbrella Corporation. Had Marcus run his tests here too? Rebecca shook her head, she couldn’t be thinking about this. She needed to keep moving even though she had no idea where she was moving to. Anything was better than staying where they could find you - devour you.
Infect you.
Turning the corner Rebecca saw a set of stairs and one lone zombie wandering down the landing. It threw itself over the stair railing with a sickening crack that almost made the girl retch. The monster crawled toward her slowly as another started ambling down the stairs. Obviously the stairs weren’t an option anymore. She pulled the trigger three more time before dodging and ducking into the door next to the stairs. She wasn’t even sure if she’d hit either zombie. To make the situation worse - she was in a room with only one door, the one she’d just come through.
The tiny room had a storage box (with nothing inside) a bookshelf, a desk, a jug of kerosene, first aid supplies and bug-spray. Rebecca had on her person a first aid kit and a gun with no bullets in it. She set the gun down on the desk with a heavy thud, feeling utterly useless. She was eighteen years-old and she was going to die here, this wasn’t what she’d signed up for. Her hands were shaking as she reached for the bug-spray. Better than nothing. Rebecca refused to give into the hopelessness inching into her consciousness as she curled up between the bookcase and the desk. Hours later she would be poised for an attack on an unsuspecting intruder.
For the moment, however, she was just a scared teenager hiding in a corner while a zombie bumped into the door.