City of the Dead

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Chapter Four

Sherry Birkin wished she knew where her father was. She had no idea why her parents changed their plans at the last minute, and when she tried to ask, her mother told her not to worry about it. Annette had come home the other day, her face red and puffy from crying, and told Sherry that their plans to leave the city were on hold. For some reason, they needed to wait a little longer, but Annette refused to give Sherry any more information. Her father did not come home that day as planned, and now Annette behaved as if nothing was wrong.

Sherry guessed that her father got arrested and was in jail. It was the only thing she could think of to explain why they were not leaving Raccoon City. If he was just staying at work, like he always did, Annette would just say that. The fact that she stayed so silent was evidence that something much worse had happened.

They were supposed to be gone by now, but instead, she was going to school like any other day. Annette gripped the steering wheel tightly as she drove to the school, with Sherry sitting in the passenger seat, looking out the window with a bored expression on her face, her bookbag in her lap.

She looked up as an ambulance, its lights flashing and siren blaring, roared down the street in front of them, rushing through the intersection as the other cars on the street politely came to a stop. Sherry could not remember a time when she saw so many ambulances, but that was the third one they saw this morning. She looked at Annette and started to say something, but her mother stared forward obsessively, leaning forward and holding onto the steering wheel for dear life. Sherry sighed and though better of it. If her mother didn’t want to talk, then Sherry wouldn’t talk.

There was less traffic on the street, she noticed. Normally there were plenty of cars, since so many people drove to work at the same time Annette drove Sherry to school, but today it seemed like there were many less than usual. Sherry didn’t bother to comment on that either, she just rested her head on the side of the car seat and looked out the side window.

When they arrived at the school, Annette drove into the semi-circular driveway and pulled up to the curb. As always, there were tons of other cars already there, since most of her classmates were driven to school by their parents, but it seemed like there were less cars than usual. Sherry undid her seat belt, lifted her bookbag, and opened the door.

“Have a good day at school, honey,” Annette said robotically.

“Sure, mom,” Sherry muttered as she climbed out of the car. She closed the door and lifted her bookbag onto her shoulder, casting one more glance back at Annette, before turning and walking quickly across the sidewalk up to the doors to the school.

A massive luxury SUV was parked on the curb a few spaces down. A young boy stood next to it, holding his stomach. He wasn’t in Sherry’s class, but she recognized him from lunch period. “But mom, I don’t feel good,” the boy said.

“Just go to school, honey. If you still feel sick, go to the nurse,” the boy’s mother said from inside the car.

Sherry pushed the doors open and walked down the hallway, her bookbag bumping against her shoulder. Her black dress shoes clicked on the marble floor as she went down the hall toward her class. She could see a teacher standing outside his classroom, holding a hand to his head.

“Hi, Mr. Rawlings,” she said as she walked by.

The teacher nodded and made a pained face. “Good morning, Sherry,” he mumbled.

“Are you sick or something?”

He nodded. “It seems like lot of people are sick today.”

Sherry wondered if there was some kind of flu bug going around. It was the season for it, but she felt completely fine. Of course, if everyone else at the school was sick, she was probably bound to get sick as well.

She got to her classroom and stopped in her tracks as soon as she stepped into the doorway. Mrs. Gaffey, her teacher, was frantically dealing with half a dozen students who were sprawled across their desks or even lying on the floor. Several other students, apparently not the sick ones, were looking on nervously.

“Sherry?” Mrs. Gaffey asked. “Are you okay, dear?”

“Yeah,” Sherry said. “I’m fine.”

“You aren’t sick or anything?”

Sherry shook her head. “No, I feel fine.”

“I sent Joshua to the office to get some help, but he didn’t come back yet. Would you please go to the office and tell them they need to call the hospital?”

Sherry tossed her bookbag onto her desk and glanced across the faces of her sick classmates, suddenly feeling very cold. “Yeah, sure I will,” she said.

She ran out of the classroom and hurried down the hall. She glanced briefly into the next room as she passed and saw the exact same scene, a room full of sick children and a desperate teacher trying to help them. Several students were gathered outside the class, looking inside with worried looks on their faces.

“What is going on?” Sherry asked.

“I don’t know,” a kid said. “Everybody is getting sick. My dad was sick when I got up this morning, and now everybody here is too.”

One of the other kids sighed heavily and slouched against the wall. “I don’t feel too good either,” he said nervously.

Sherry continued on down the hall and turned the corner to the main lobby where the front office was. She heard the commotion before she even got there, and entered the lobby to see a crowd of people already there. Teachers, students, and parents alike all were gathered outside the office, trying to shove their way inside. Sherry stopped, watching the crowd in nervous fascination, and found her heart beating faster and faster. Her breath seemed to come in sharp gasps.

“I don’t know what’s going on!” a teacher shouted angrily.

“Hasn’t someone called the police?” someone else said.

“The damn phone lines are down!”

Sherry saw Joshua standing at the edge of the mob, trying helplessly to make his way through, but the mass of bodies blocked him completely. He was shorter than Sherry, with big brown eyes and a mop of brown hair. She ran up beside him and pulled him away.

“You’ll never get through,” she said.

Joshua was crying, his cheeks wet with tears. “She ... she told me to get help. But there’s too many people. I don’t know what to do.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Sherry said. “We’ll just tell Mrs. Gaffey that someone else is already getting help.”

The front doors swung open and two police officers came inside, looking around with tired, overwhelmed looks. The crowd immediately shifted and began inundating the two hapless officers with questions.

“We need ambulances here! Can’t you call someone and get help?”

“Why are the phones down?”

“Has anyone called the CDC? We have an epidemic on our hands!”

“Even my cell phone won’t work! What is going on?”

“I have a room full of sick kids!”

Sherry left Joshua standing by himself, and quickly ran to the office, since most of the people blocking her way were now surrounding the cops. She pushed her way past a teacher and looked into the office.

It was a disaster area. The main waiting area in the office was full of children lying on the floor, all of them so sick they could barely move. Secretaries and teachers ran around frantically, trying to call for help on phones that didn’t work, doing whatever they could to help the sick students. It looked like a makeshift hospital after some terrible natural disaster, like an earthquake or tidal wave.

The front desk secretary, a friendly old woman named Mrs. Callenby, angrily tore her phone off the desk and hurled it across the room. “Nothing!” she screamed. “The phones are totally dead!”

“What about the radio?” someone asked.

“It doesn’t work either! I get nothing but static!”

“Where is the Principal? Why isn’t he here?”

“He didn’t even come in today!”

The kids lying on the floor weren’t even moving. Sherry stared in horror as she recognized at least one person from her class, a girl named Jessica. She was against the wall near the benches in the waiting area, lying on her side as if asleep, but her eyes were wide open. It didn’t even look like her chest was moving.

“We need to get the buses back here and take these people to the hospital,” one of the office people said desperately. “We don’t have enough supplies in the nurse’s office.”

“Enough supplies for what? We don’t even know why they’re all sick!”

Sherry felt the world closing in on her. She pushed away and made it back into the lobby, as the crowd grew in size. More people were showing up every second, and soon the entire lobby would be totally full of people. Sherry stumbled back out and grabbed Joshua’s hand, pulling him away. “Come on!” she shouted.

“Sherry, what are we going to do?” Joshua cried.

“I don’t know,” Sherry said. “But I don’t think we should stay here at school. If everyone is sick, we might get sick too.”

They ran down the hall, passing more groups of students, some of them sick and some still healthy. She heard people shouting, and at least one teacher screaming for help, even though there was no help coming. Someone tried to ask her what was going on, but she rushed past without answering.

They made it back to Mrs. Gaffey’s room and pushed their way through the students blocking the door. Mrs. Gaffey was shaking a cell phone in her hand, tears streaming down her face. Sherry stared in horror at half of her class lying weakly on the floor, some of them groaning in pain, and others completely immobile.

“I can’t get anyone on the phone!” Mrs. Gaffey cried.

“The phones don’t work,” Sherry told her. “There’s a whole bunch of people at the office, but no one knows what’s going on.”

“What about the police?”

“There are some police here, but I don’t think they can help anyone.”

The windows in Mrs. Gaffey’s room looked out onto the main street in front of the school, and Sherry could see outside as she talked to her teacher. She was about to say something else, when suddenly she watched as a truck zoomed down the street, skipped the curb, and crashed head-on into a tree in the school’s front yard. She shrieked at the sight, and flinched at the grating sound of tearing metal and shattering glass.

The truck tilted sideways and slammed to the ground, rocking back and forth on its side. The tree shook violently and leaves fluttered to the ground like confetti. Two more cars flew down the street, totally oblivious to the accident.

“Oh, Jesus,” Mrs. Gaffey whispered, her hands at the sides of her face. She stared at the truck and then looked back down at the sick children, her whole body frozen in the panic of indecision. She shook like the tree outside, and the cell phone slipped from her hand, clattering to the floor.

“What are we going to do?” Joshua asked, his voice trembling.

“I don’t know!” Mrs. Gaffey screamed. “Someone has to go get some help!”

Sherry didn’t know how anyone could get help now, especially if the phones weren’t working. If the rest of the city was facing the same epidemic that the school was, then she doubted that phones would even help, since everyone would be calling at the same time and all the phone lines would be tied up anyway. But she knew one thing for certain. She did not want to spend another minute in this school with all these sick people. She was going to go back home if she had to walk there herself.

She left the classroom and went back into the hall, ignoring the other kids in her class, who just stood around uncertainly. They asked where she was going, but she just ignored them. It didn’t matter where she was going, she was just getting away.

“Sherry!” Joshua cried, coming after her. “I’m coming with you!”

“I’m not staying here,” Sherry said.

“Neither am I,” he replied, wiping his face with his sleeve. “I want to go home.”

“Well, come on.”

Instead of heading toward the office again, they went down the hall back to the doors that Sherry entered from. More students were standing around in the hallway, and Sherry saw Mr. Rawlings sitting against the wall, his head drooped to the side. His students were worriedly standing around, unsure what to do.

“Where are you going, Sherry?” one of them asked.

“I’m going home,” she said simply.

Before they made it to the outside doors, a teacher stumbled out of her classroom and stood on unsteady legs, looking around sleepily. Sherry recognized her as Mrs. Carter, the kindergarten teacher. Since the kindergarten class did not start until later, Mrs. Carter would not have any students yet. She staggered out into the hall and looked toward Sherry and Joshua, her mouth hanging open stupidly.

Sherry stopped and grabbed Joshua’s arm as he almost ran past her. They looked at Mrs. Carter, and Sherry felt herself take a step backward. She didn’t understand how, but she knew instinctively that something was wrong.

“Are you okay?” Sherry asked.

Mrs. Carter did not respond, she only staggered forward, her eyes wide open with a frighteningly hollow stare. Her mouth seemed to open and close without her saying anything except a raspy groan.

Sherry ran to the nearest room, Mrs. Mason’s first grade class, where she was not surprised to see more sick children lying around. The teacher was kneeling over some kids, nervously fumbling with a thermometer.

“Mrs. Mason!” Sherry shouted from the hallway. “There’s something wrong with Mrs. Carter!”

Mrs. Mason glanced over her shoulder at Sherry, then got up and sighed heavily. She shook her head and went to the doorway. “Listen, just go to the office, okay? I have sick children here.”

“Look!” Sherry demanded.

Mrs. Mason reluctantly glanced up at Mrs. Carter and her expression changed from mild annoyance to real concern. “Elizabeth?” she asked. “Are you alright? Don’t tell me that you’re getting sick too.”

Mrs. Carter said nothing, she only took a few more steps forward, staring intently at Sherry, lifting one arm as if to point at her.

“Elizabeth, are you okay?” Mrs. Mason asked. She walked toward her and reached out to take her arm. Mrs. Carter paused for a moment and looked at her coworker, before suddenly lunging forward and biting down hard on her neck. Mrs. Mason screamed and slammed her hands into Mrs. Carter’s chest, pushing her away. She took a chunk of flesh away, still in her teeth, and blood gushed up from the gory wound on Mrs. Mason’s neck. She stumbled back, trying to stop the flow with her hands, but it squirted between her fingers like a hose, splashing blood everywhere.

Sherry was already running for it, with Joshua close on her heels. Mrs. Mason’s screams echoed relentlessly down the hallway like a skipping record, and then stopped abruptly. Suddenly, it seemed like everyone else was screaming at the same time. The whole world seemed to erupt into panic. Sherry and Joshua sprinted past a rushing flood of students and made it back to their own classroom.

Just as they arrived, children burst from the doorway, followed by Mrs. Gaffey, who was screaming herself, one hand gripping a bloody wound on her arm. She ran out into the hall, shaking her head in terrified denial, her hair whipping around her face as tears poured down her contorted face.

Sherry’s classmate Bobby jumped from the classroom, his mouth smeared with blood, his teeth bared in a horrifying grimace. His eyes were wide open and frantic, as if he was on drugs. He hurled himself at Mrs. Gaffey and bit down on her arm again, swung from side to side as the teacher frantically tried to shake him off. Screaming students ran in every direction, trying to get away from the violent scene in front of them.

Amber, one of Sherry’s friends, ran from the room as well, her eyes wild in a psychotic frenzy. She growled and jumped on another student, sinking her teeth into his shoulder like a lion attacking a zebra. More terrified screams filled the hallway, so loud that it seemed like the entire school was screaming at once.

Sherry ran past the carnage, knocking one of her classmates to the ground. She bolted away and ran as fast as she could back toward the office, not knowing where else she could possibly go. She could hear Joshua crying out behind her.

The lobby was overrun with a frantic mob of people, desperately trying to claw and fight their way to the doors. Sherry ducked past the surging crowd and ran down the next hallway, toward the gymnasium and cafeteria. People ran past her, going the other way, and one of them tried to stop her.

“Don’t go that way!”

Sherry ignored him and kept running. The hallway ended in a wide foyer that split off with several large doors, one set leading into the gymnasium, and the other leading to the cafeteria and the music room. Just as Sherry and Joshua made it to the foyer, one of the school’s janitors stumbled out in front of them. His face and the front of his blue work shirt were splattered with blood, and both his hands were covered in blood as well. He turned awkwardly, his arms swinging loosely at his sides, and saw Sherry and Joshua standing there.

The janitor groaned and staggered toward them, his legs jerking up and down like a malfunctioning robot. Sherry prepared to just run around him, but Joshua screamed in fear behind her, and Sherry glanced back.

Another child came shambling toward them, his arms outstretched, his mouth open in a moan of hunger. Like all the others, his eyes seemed to shine with intensity. Sherry backed away from the janitor and grabbed Joshua’s arm, trying to pull him away, but he seemed stuck to the floor, his whole body frozen in terror.

“Hey!” someone shouted.

Sherry turned back around to see her gym teacher, a man named Mr. Tyson, come running out of the gym swinging a hockey stick above his head. Like always, he wore a pair of gray sweatpants and a gray t-shirt, but there was a large bloody stain down one of his legs. He rushed into the foyer and swung the hockey stick down right across the janitor’s face. With a loud crack, the end of the stick broke right off, and the janitor’s head jerked backward, blood spurting from his jaw. He tumbled over with a groan and fell onto his back, blood splashing from the ragged slash across his face. He groaned and tried to get to his feet.

Mr. Tyson ran past Sherry and Joshua and kicked the other student directly in the chest, sending him sprawling. Joshua covered his eyes with his hands and continued to cry, but Sherry just stared in surprise at the gym teacher.

“Are you both okay?” Mr. Tyson asked quickly.

“Yes, we’re not hurt,” Sherry replied.

The janitor rolled over onto his stomach and began to push himself up. Mr. Tyson ran back to the gym doors and called out, “Come on! Hurry up!”

Sherry grabbed a hold of Joshua again. Three more people came out of the gym, and Mr. Tyson led them past the bleeding janitor. There was the assistant gym teacher, a young woman named Natalie, and two students whose names Sherry didn’t know. They all joined up in one group, and together the six of them made their way down the hall near the cafeteria.

“We can go out the back doors and make it to the teacher parking lot,” Mr. Tyson explained. “If we can get to my car, I can drive us out of here.”

There was a sudden crash of dishes as they passed the entrance to the kitchen, and the doors burst open as one of the lunch workers, a young man wearing black pants and a white shirt, staggered out into the hall. Blood spread down the front of the man’s shirt, gushing from a brutal bite wound on his neck. One hand gripping his bloody injury, he stumbled forward before falling to one knee and reaching for the group, blood pouring from his mouth when he tried to speak. Behind him, Sherry could see one of the lunch ladies coming toward them, bloody hands reaching forward, her mouth a dripping mess of blood.

They all hurried after Mr. Tyson, who led them down another hallway, one that Sherry had never been to. It led back to the janitor supply closets and to a staircase leading downstairs to the boiler room. Past the stairway was the rear exit that led behind the school and to the loading dock and the parking lots.

Mr. Tyson opened the door and took a quick glance outside before holding it open wide for everyone to go out. Sherry, Joshua, Natalie, and the other two students went outside and down a set of cement stairs to the rear lot. They ran across the grass to the teacher’s parking lot around the other side of the school.

Just as Natalie led the students around the side of the building, a man wearing a brown suit jumped out in front of them and attacked her, biting hard on her hand as she tried to push him away. She screamed, and her scream was followed by the screams of the students, Sherry included. Mr. Tyson rushed forward and slammed his shoulder into the attacker, who was thrown off balance and fell down onto the cement at the edge of the parking lot.

It was the principal of the school, Mr. Colberson, Sherry realized, staring down at him. He must have come to school after all, but got sick like everyone else, and decided to stay in his car. As Mr. Tyson got to his feet, Mr. Colberson groaned and tried to get up as well, glaring at them furiously, baring his blood-stained teeth.

Mr. Tyson grabbed a loose chunk of concrete off the ground just as Mr. Colberson came at them again, and swung it as hard as he could, cracking the concrete right into the principal’s temple. He groaned, eyes rolling back in his head, and collapsed to the ground.

Mr. Tyson dropped the bloody piece of concrete and helped Natalie to her feet. She whimpered, cradling her injured hand.

“Come on,” Mr. Tyson said, his voice weak. “My car’s over here.”

They all climbed into his dark blue minivan, which was thankfully large enough for all of them. He drove with Natalie in the passenger seat, while all four students got into the back seat. Joshua clutched Sherry’s shirt for dear life.

They drove out of the parking lot and to the street, and Sherry looked out the window with an empty expression. She couldn’t even think any more, she couldn’t react to what she saw.

Out in front of the school, there must have been a hundred people milling around. Some of them had blood on their faces. Others lay motionless on the ground. Even in the car, she could hear the sounds of screams within the school, combining with the screams and thoughtless moaning of the people outside. As the minivan pulled onto the street, some of the people noticed them and tried to give chase, arms outstretched and eyes blazing with madness. She could almost hear them moaning hungrily as they drove away.

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