Chapter Two: Horror.

The Pontiac Grand Am sped along at a moderate pace as it's two occupants were wrapped in sullen silence.

Laura and Bob Daniels had just gotten into another argument after leaving the Racoon's Tale where they had eaten dinner.

Laura sat in the passenger seat and wondered what had happened to their marriage. When she and Bob had first gotten married they had been madly in love but after two years the fires had cooled and they spent more time arguing than not.

The Grand Am jerking to a halt brought Laura out of her reverie. She looked over at Bob and opened her mouth to ask why he had stopped so suddenly; but before she could say a word he just waved her silent and pointed out the windshield. That was when she noticed the person laying in the road.

Undoing his seat belt Bob looked over at her, "you stay here; and I'll go check and see if he needs any help."

Foolishly Laura bristled at his command and got out of the car standing by the open door as he checked on the person.

As Bob bent down to check the person laying on the ground the figure lurched up and gripped his head and ripped his throat out.

Bob gurgled and died choking on his own blood as he fell to the road and his loafers doing a brief tattoo on the asphalt.

Laura screamed once and then noticed other shapes shambling and stumbling out of the woods. She started to duck back in the car but saw that the keys were missing. why did he take the keys with him, she thought angrily.

Turning in circles she saw a piece of lead pipe in the ditch and grabbed it up and then darted towards a clear area of the forest.

A shambling shape popped out from around a tree and Laura brought the pipe up and swung it like a bat connecting with the dark shapes head.

The sound of the zombies head popping sounded like an overripe watermelon exploding; and Laura barely stifled an urge to giggle madly; and a fetid rotten stench assailed her nostrils.

Laura ran through the trees for what seemed like hours to her and slowed as she heard gunfire coming from her right.

Laura stopped for a second to get her bearing, "that gunfire is coming from the police substation," she said in a low tone.

Laura started jogging in that general direction and almost walked right out onto the paved and lighted parking are of the substation; but some instinct told her to dart into a clump of bushes off to one side and sat clutching the length of pipe tightly.

As Laura watched a figure in police blues ran out of the substation and whirled firing two rounds from a sawed off shotgun back into the doorway of the building. The figure then turned and darted towards a police cruiser sitting in the lot as two figures shambled out of the station. The officer made it to the car well ahead of the figures and cranked the engine over and slewed the cruiser out of its spot and towards the exit that ran past small garage. Unfortunately the care ran over some glass and the front left tire blew out causing it to crash into the garage.

The officer's head impacted with the steering wheel and broke his neck and then bounced into the driver's side window with enough force to break it and then he slumped back over the wheel.

Laura sat hunched over holding her tears and screams in as she watched the two figures shamble back into the surrounding woods.

Laura sat for another twenty minutes making sure they were gone and then got up and jogged to the car. She knew the dead officer, Randy Mercone; he was always such a sweet man, she thought looking at his oddly angled neck.

Steeling herself for what she had to do Laura reached through the broken window and slipped his sidearm out of it's holster as well as three spare speedloaders. Laura grimaced when she examined the gun; it was a Smith and Wesson Model 14 chambered in .38 special.

"Well beggars can't be choosers," she said outloud and jumped at her own voice.

Laura slipped the .38 and speedloaders in her pockets and headed for the police substation. She entered the Chief's office and heard voices and the creak of the outside door opening; she hurriedly climbed into the closet and left it open a crack. Laura heard four distinctive male voices as the men entered the building.

"I am so tired of cleaning up after these idiot scientists for umbrella," one voice said.

"I hear ya Ed," another said.

"Shut up and do as you're told," a third voice growled.

"Yeah, yeah; we know Max; cap any cops that aren't dead yet and take all the guns and ammo," the final voice spoke up.

The first voice to speak snickered, "yeah Umbrella doesn't want any witnesses left alive in Raccoon City or the surrounding areas that might escape and tell their tale."

Laura couldn't hear anymore as the voices drifted to the back of the station.

Ten minutes later she heard the crump of shutting car door and an engine was gunned and tires squealed on pavement as a car sped out of the lot. Laura sat in the closet for another ten minutes to make sure they were gone. As she was about to get up and get out of the closet she heard the pok-pok of bootheels on the linoleum outside the office.

As the boots moved through the building she heard the clack of bolts and locks being thrown and the heavy thud of security shutters being closed.

Laura held her breath as the boot steps entered the room and stepped towards the closet. As the knob began to turn she leapt out of the closet swinging the pipe.

The door slammed into the person's hand and something went clattering and skipping across the floor.