Wasteland Wanderer: Biohazard Chapter 02 (Early Preview) (Patreon)

Chapter 02: Community Spread

3 Days After Operation: Nestwrecker

Outside the City

The Courier gripped the wheel of his Highwayman as he traveled down the narrow road. He glanced at the Arklay Mountains in the distance. After going through the familiar desert and plains back west, the forests of the Midwest were still strange to see. Outside of Vault 22, he hasn't seen this much green back in his Mojave.  

The Courier cruised down the road and past the welcoming sign. "Welcome to Raccoon City..."

He'd heard of the city in passing, but nothing remarkable. Just another American town, probably long before his time.

When he reached the city, he eventually came to a red light next to a large billboard promoting something called the "Umbrella Corporation." A smiling family was beneath it, and a neat and shining cityscape was behind them.

The Courier's lips twisted into a faint, wry smile. He'd seen this kind of thing before in the Mojave ruins. Those Pre-War companies gave polished promises and corporate slogans for god knows what ends.

As he continued driving through the streets, he couldn't help but notice the many roadblocks slowing and diverting traffic. "Sheesh. Is the entire city under construction or something?"

Raccoon City Police Department

"So let me get this straight—one of those guys just took a good bite out of Hernandez?" Kevin Ryman leaned back in his chair, his expression caught between disbelief and a faint smirk.

"Yes, Kevin, he did," Marvin Branagh replied, his tone weighted with concern. His eyes carried the exhaustion of a long day.

Kevin let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "Dear god... I suppose the guy must've been really hungry."

Marvin shot him a glare. "Kevin…!"

Kevin raised his hands. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry, Marvin! But seriously… how's Hernandez?"

Marvin sighed, leaning against the desk. "Not well. Doctors say his condition's worsening by the hour."

Kevin was confused."How?"

Marvin shook his head. "I don't know. Even the doctors are puzzled. Apparently, he's got something."

Kevin frowned. "I've heard about infections from wounds and all, but from a single bite by some crazy cannibal? Doesn't sound right."

"I'd say the same," Marvin admitted, running a hand across his temple. "But here we are."

Kevin leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping. "Doesn't this remind you of… you know, the stuff the remaining S.T.A.R.S. members were talking about? Something close to this?"

Marvin's jaw tightened. "You'd be damn right. Something's weird about this case, Kevin. I can feel it."

Kevin nodded, letting out a quiet laugh, though it lacked his usual energy. "Same here… Anyway, I've gotta head out."

Marvin straightened up. "Right. Did you get the report for the new recruits sorted?"

"Yep. Even got this one kid, Leon Kennedy. Seems like a good guy."

Marvin allowed himself a small smile. "Agreed. Boy's got potential."

Kevin nodded. "Definitely. Alright, see you later, Marvin."

Marvin called after him as Kevin stepped toward the door. "Have a good rest. And remember—don't go around J's Bar in uniform after work."

Kevin paused at the door, throwing a grin over his shoulder. "You know I can't always keep promises."

"And be careful out there—" Marvin started.

"Yeah, yeah, I know about the streets," Kevin interrupted, waving lazily as he walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.

Marvin sighed, the weight of the night settling back over him. He glanced down at the paperwork strewn across his desk. "Now, about this stolen jewel and the theft…" he muttered, picking up his pen as the quiet of the late night reclaimed the room.

Davis Street

Mike felt thirsty as he watched the football game, so he grabbed a glass from the cabinet and went to the kitchen sink. He turned on the tap and filled the glass with cold, fresh water, hearing the game continue in the living room. Walking back to his chair, he sipped the water.

Later

On the TV, the crowd cheered for a touchdown.

Something felt wrong. Mike tried to move in his chair, but a strange sensation overtook him. He tried to lift his arm and legs, but nothing would move. He panicked.

His strength was draining away. His heartbeat was getting weaker. His vision blurred. It felt like he was dying.

Now, instead of thirst, he felt more hungry. More hungry than he's ever felt before.

The pain slowly started to disappear. His skin turned pale, and his veins darkened. His breathing soon stopped, and his heart gave one final beat. Mike was now gone, leaving a puppet behind.

Slowly, the body got up from the chair. The limbs jerked as they moved. His eyes were cloudy, with no life left in them, staring blankly. He let out a low, groaning sound as he stumbled forward.

Raccoon City Football Stadium

The stadium cheered as the Raccoon Sharks played against the Old Court Thunders. The crowd was excited, clapping and shouting for their favorite team. Their faces were painted in team colors, and their voices were loud and proud.

Maria was with the other Raccoon Sharks fans, enjoying her snack. She smiled at her boyfriend as he returned to his seat.

"What took you so long, dear?" Maria asked.

"Eh... sorry, it just... took a while," Dave replied

Maria waved it off. "No problem. Want some water? I brought extra."

"Yeah, sure." Dave took a sip. "Thanks!"

"No problem!"

Elsewhere

The TV blared from the living room, the anchor's voice cutting through the low hum of the home.

"Ever since this morning, there have been numerous reports of murders around the city, many rumored to involve acts of cannibalism! The RPD has yet to comment on this matter, particularly with the recent protests. We'll keep our citizens updated here on The Raccoon Times! In other news, Raccoon General Hospital is reportedly overwhelmed by a sudden influx of patients, with staff struggling to keep up—"

The channel abruptly switched to a football game, the upbeat commentary replacing the grim news.

David stood in the bathroom, wiping his hands on a rag as he finished tightening the last bolt on the toilet. He glanced toward the door as the homeowner's voice called out from the living room.

"Hey! David! You done with the job?"

David stood, stretching his back, and walked into the hallway, nodding at the woman. "Yes, ma'am. Just fixed the toilet, and the rest of the bathroom's in full working condition."

The woman smiled, wringing her hands nervously. "Oh, thank you! Want some water? Tapped, if you don't mind."

David shook his head. "It's nothing, really. And no, I'm fine. I'm outta here now."

"Okay, no problem. And, uh... yeah, thank you again!"

David nodded politely as he walked past her and out the door, heading toward the company's 4x4 truck parked in the driveway and climbed in. The truck rumbled to life. His next stop was a warehouse on the eastern side of the city.

As he pulled onto the main road, his mind wandered to the recent news. Murders, cannibalism—it sounded unreal. He'd seen his share of city madness, but this seemed like the media was reaching for attention. Probably some scandal cooked up by the mayor to cover some other mess, David mused.

He flipped through the radio stations before settling on country music.

He'd ordered a new survivalist book that was supposed to arrive tonight. He smiled to himself. Maybe a trip to the Arklay Forest was in order soon. A few days away from the city, surrounded by nature and silence, sounded like exactly what he needed.

Kite Bros. Railway, South Raccoon Street Station

Jim, an African-American subway locomotive driver, had just pulled the train into the platform, the brakes hissing as it came to a stop. He opened the doors, letting the few passengers step out, tired expressions on their faces as they drifted towards the exits.

It was the end of Jim's shift, and he was more than ready for a break. Ricky, His co-worker and friend, was already waiting to take over the controls and start his shift.

Jim grinned. "Yo, Rickyyyy!"

Ricky raised a hand. "Ayyyy! Jim! How's it going, man?"

Jim shrugged. "Ah, not much! Just the usual shift. What's up with you?"

Ricky sighed, rolling his eyes. "Well, not much either, except I almost showed up late today 'cause of that riot goin' on."

Jim nodded knowingly. "Yeah, I noticed. Jake showed up super late today too—had his train delayed by a solid two hours! Most of the trains on line two were behind schedule 'cause of it."

Ricky shook his head, wincing. "Yeesh... Boss is gonna give him an earful for sure."

"Yeah, no doubt." Jim laughed. "Too bad for Jake, man."

Ricky chuckled in agreement. "Yeah. So, what are you gonna do now?"

Jim stretched, letting out a yawn. "Man, I'm feelin' real tired. I think I'm just gonna head home and sleep."

Ricky raised a brow. "Didn't you say you were gonna buy some new shoes today?"

Jim waved a hand. "Nah, that's for tomorrow. I'm too tired to even think about shoppin' right now."

Ricky grinned. "Alright, man. You take care. I'll see ya later."

Jim gave him a thumbs-up as he stepped off the platform. "Cya, Ricky. Don't let the boss stress ya too much!"

Ricky laughed as he stepped up into the locomotive. "No promises!" he called out as the doors closed behind him. Jim shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he made his way out of the station, ready to put the day behind him.

Raccoon City Football Stadium

The mood had changed. The Old Court Thunders were catching up, scoring several times, and now the Raccoon Sharks were behind.

"OH, COME ON, THAT'S NOT FAIR! ISN'T THAT RIGHT, DAVE?" Maria looked at Dave, expecting him to join in, but he said nothing.

"Dave? ... Dave?" she called, nudging him gently.

She looked over at him and felt her stomach drop. Dave's face was really pale. His head was down, his eyes closed, and he looked limp. Slowly, he lifted his head to look at her.

"Oh my god! Dave, your skin...!" Maria shook with fear.

Dave opened his eyes, and Maria gasped. His eyes were cloudy.

"Dear...?" Maria reached out to touch his arm.

Suddenly, Dave lunged and bit into her neck, tearing flesh. Blood splattered on everyone around them, and Maria screamed in pain.

The cheers quickly turned into panic as people saw what happened. Chaos spread fast. People ran in all directions, terrified, with people tripping over each other, trying to escape.

Outside

The Courier drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his patience wearing thin. Traffic was at a standstill, the rows of cars in front of him stretching far. He could hear the muffled crowd in the stadium across the street.

"Dammit...," he muttered. He craned his neck, hoping to spot an opening in the gridlock, but almost everything was blocked. With a frustrated sigh, he pulled the truck to the nearest parking lot and cut the engine. He needed to rethink his route.

The Courier walked into the nearest convenience store and picked up the local map. As he started plotting an alternate route, he noticed the crowd's cheers were dying down. About a few minutes later, he looked up just in time to see people spilling out of the stadium's exits. "What the hell?"

The familiar red and blue lights were coming closer, and a few cop cars arrived at the stadium entrance before ambulances.  

He hadn't heard any gunshots earlier, so it must have been some other disturbance for the cops to be called. 'Shouldn't be too serious...'

His eyes scanned the city's layout, landing on the nearest department store. The Courier still needed supplies for the trip to the next city over.

Suddenly, there were gunshots. Over the next hour, The Courier saw paramedics wheel out several people and two body bags.

'I guess even pre-war they had to deal with crazy people.

Later, Walmart

The fluorescent lights of Walmart buzzed faintly overhead as the Courier pushed his cart through the aisles. His cart was loaded with the essentials. He scanned the shelves for canned and dry food and bottled water. He tossed in canned beans, instant noodles, trail mix, packs of bottled water, batteries, and duct tape.

Turning into the next aisle, his cart bumped into another. He stopped, looking up. Standing across from him was a woman with short brunette hair, wearing a blue tube top, a matching skirt, and boots. Her hand instinctively moved toward her hip as if reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there.

“Whoops.” The Courier held up a hand in apology. “Sorry.”

The woman was clearly startled and took a second to recollect herself. Her hand dropped. “No, it’s fine,” She quickly brushed off the incident. Her gaze lingered on his duster, taking in the out-of-place look. “Interesting outfit.”

He smirked. “It’s an acquired taste back West. Born in Montana before I started working in California and Vegas.”

She raised a brow. “You’re certainly a long way from home.”

“Heh,” the Courier chuckled. “I’m on a bit of a vacation. Taking in the rest of the country.”

The woman nodded, her attention briefly flickering over his shoulder as though checking for something. “That’s nice,” she said. “I was considering traveling too. Some of my friends went to Europe and New York.” Her eyes drifted to his cart, studying its contents. “Dry food, camping equipment, water. If you hadn’t told me you were traveling, I’d think you were a doomsday prepper.”

“Survivalist,” the Courier corrected with a grin. “I can make a good healing powder or serum with the right flowers and roots.”

She tilted her head, intrigued despite herself. “Since you’re not from here, you might not know about some of the herbs native to the Arklay Mountains. They can heal wounds, restore stamina, fight off infections, even cure toxins.”

The Courier hummed thoughtfully. “A natural antivenom, huh? Nice. I might look into that. I've got time. Considering all the traffic and roadblocks, I’ll probably start heading out at night. It’s a mess out there right now.”

The woman nodded, her expression distant for a moment. Her thoughts seemed to drift elsewhere, and she didn’t respond immediately. After a pause, she said, “Yeah… it’s a mess.” Her voice carried a weight he didn’t miss, though he didn’t pry.

“There was even an incident at the stadium,” the Courier added casually.

The woman froze, her expression sharpening. “What?”

“Yeah, something went down during the game. Cops and ambulances got called in. Must’ve been a riot or something.”

Her instincts flared. Warning bells went off in her mind. She straightened as her grip tightened on her cart. “Sorry, I’ve got to go.” Her mind raced. She hoped against the worst. “I suggest you leave as soon as you can.”

The Courier raised a brow at her sudden change but shrugged. “Alright, you take care, now.”

“You too,” she replied quickly, already moving toward the other end of the aisle. Her thoughts were a whirlwind—if her assumptions about the situation were right, she needed to act fast. Supplies, weapons, an escape plan. The chaos she’d feared since the Mansion Incident was about to erupt, and she didn’t plan on being caught unprepared.

The Courier watched her go, bemused but unconcerned. He pushed his cart forward, the faint hum of the Walmart speakers overhead playing a pop song he didn’t recognize. He figured he’d deal with whatever had her spooked if it crossed his path. For now, he still had a few supplies to grab.