“Hey man! Don’t! Please, don’t kill me!” He looked at the man squirming at his feet. Already weak, disintegrating. Bones soft, flesh rotten. Yet begging for his life.
“Sorry, nothing personal. But you got to go. Can’t afford you to spread this shit any further,” he said, kneeled down and released his claws.
“Wait! Wait, I got kids to take care of!” The man shouted.
“Kids? Where?” He asked, his claws hovering just inches above the man’s ribcage.
“Two blocks away, at the corner of Main and Elm Street, they’re alone, they need food and...” He didn’t let the man finish. Quick jab cracked his sternum, brisk swirl of his wrist and fragile innards turned to bloody soup.
He stood up slowly, then reached for the radio mounted on his left shoulder. Tangent clicked.
“Customers at the corner of Main and Elm,” he said. Receiver crackled briefly.
“Copy that. Meet you there!” Her answer came through loud and clear, tone of her voice almost sickeningly chipper.
“Copy that. Over and out,” he grunted his response. Looked at the corpse splayed in front of him, then turned and started running, wondering for the umpteenth time would they be able to find a suitable vehicle from this little backwater town. He was getting sick of running.
She was already waiting for him, leaning against a signpost, her hands crossed over her chest, ankle thrown over another and her fingers playing staccato over her biceps.
“Took you long enough. Getting old?” She asked.
“I was old before I met you, kid... You ready?” He huffed and cracked his knuckles. She nodded.
“Good. I don’t know how many there are. I don’t know if they’re sick already, but the guy I met was already soft, they’re definitely infected.”
“What are we waiting for, then? Let’s go!” She urged him, taking a step towards the nearby building.
“They’re... They’re kids. Maybe you should sit this one out?”
“Fuck it. They’re sick. The faster we get this over, the better it is for all,” she said. And he couldn’t help wondering when exactly had she turned so pragmatic.
He didn’t have time to ask her about it. She bolted in to the building and he had no choice but to follow her. They didn’t know if the man had spoken the truth. There might be just a sorry bunch of kids waiting. On the other hand, there might be even sorrier bunch of adults waiting, sick and armed to the teeth, just waiting for them to enter.
“Marie! Fuck... Kid! Wait!” He hollered after her. She was too young and quick, he was too old and slow, but when dogs started to bark and howl and when she screamed it didn’t really matter.
It was the first apartment from the front door. Sturdy front door of the apartment had slammed shut. He could hear the sound of a scuffle from the inside, dogs barking and growling, kids crying and screaming and Marie cursing a blue streak. There was no time for finesse, no reason to pick the lock. He kicked the door open and stopped it from slamming back shut with his palm, simultaneously blocking a huge Rottweiler from tearing in to his throat, trapping it efficiently behind the door. Marie was struggling little further in the apartment, trying to fend off a rabid German shepherd. It was quite obvious that she was fighting a losing battle; the dog had already gotten off huge chunks from her both arms and thighs.
“Logan! Get this fucking mutt off from me!” She shouted.
He braced his back against the door, pushing against it with all he got to prevent the Rottweiler from escaping and reached for the Beretta he had holstered on to his thigh. One well-aimed shot ended shepherd’s life and rage, and Marie was free to carry on their horrendous task.
“I’ll take care of this dog; you go and find those kids!” He shouted. Marie nodded. Her wounds were bleeding profusely, but time for first-aid would come later.
He holstered his gun. The Rottweiler was going berserk behind his back, actually trying to chew its way through the door, jumping against it with such power that he nearly lost his balance.
“Okay, buddy... Let’s dance...” He groaned and pushed off from the door, releasing the dog. At first the beast was just standing there, looking at him and sniffling the air, quite confused. But it wasn’t going to roll over and play dead from his command. He could see it from the way the dog squared its frame, muscles coiling and black, glossy fur raising.
“Come and get it!” He shouted, urging the dog to attack. And attack it did, coming in low, teeth bared and blunt nails scratching and clacking over the cheap linoleum floor.
“That’s a good boy...” He murmured, grasping the dog from its jaws and twisting sharply, grimacing from the sound of shattering bone. The dog fell limp on his hold, neck broken and the light of life escaping from the brown eyes.
“Kid? Are you alright?” He asked, walking over to where she stood at the doorway that leads to the only bedroom of the apartment. The sight that greeted him was perhaps one of the saddest he had seen in long time. Two kids, lying huddled together on a messy bed, both of them dead, by their own hands. The knife they had used to each other was gleaming wetly, dark blood already coagulating on it. He grasped the bed spread that had fallen on to the floor and covered the children with it.
“Come on. We should go. Summers is probably waiting for us already,” he said, nudging her shoulder. Marie shook out of her musings and turned to look at him.
“They rather took their own lives than waited for us. What does it make us to be?” She asked. And he had no answer, at least not one he was willing to speak out loud.
“Doesn’t matter what they think we are. We have to get to the EVAC zone before you bleed to death,” he said gruffly and forced her out from the apartment, out from the building, under the dim light of the dying sun.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Story Notes:
I know, it's cheap to borrow from the others, but these bunnies are just too darn cuddly. Most of what's in this story I have to thank for marvelous people at Marvel and those witty folks who created the deliciously wicked universe we can witness in a series of movies titled as Resident Evil.
Author's Chapter Notes:
First chapter probably doesn't make much sense alone, bear with me. This is the exact scene that forced me back to writing, along the constant hum of "In A Gadda Da Vida" inside of my head.