Resident Evil

      A helicopter went by outside of Raccoon University. Jonah saw it first, and barely heard it through the big glass paned windows of the classroom. Jet black, it was slow-moving but obviously meant for speed and agility. He spotted the eight-sided shape, red and white, the from a few commercials on TV and a bunch of products from the drugstore. Umbrella Corporation. That was the name. He’d seen products of their more and more, all over. They seemed to have a hand in everything, donating lump sums to the city’s parks, police, schools, etc.
      The clock hit 4:30 and the professor dismissed his class. Jonah packed up his books and stood to leave, watching the little copter fly away, heading North. He had wanted to go home before going to work at his boring, blue-collar desk and computer job. But something else had something else significant on it, besides the logo that seemed to pop up everywhere. There were soldiers aboard. He wouldn’t have noticed, were it not for the glint of sunlight off of their assault rifles. Something was up, and Jonah felt extra curious.

      He jumped into his car and started the ignition while calling a friend of his from high school, not a cop, Logan Fretchster. He didn’t expect much in the way of information as he backed out of his spot in his pick-up. The flatbed made a loud clank as he slammed his truck into gear. Logan picked up then, and Jonah told him about the chopper and where it was going.
      “Well there isn’t much North of the University, so…” Logan started.
      “I know, that’s why I’m following them.” Jonah said in return.
      “No man, Umbrella isn’t the right company to dick around with. Really.” his friend warned him.
      “I’m not gonna get close, I just want to see-… wait… they’re gone. What the hell…?” Jonah spoke as he got out of his car and shut off the engine to listen. “Well, the noise is gone. The damn thing just disappeared. I’m outside that big mansion, the one a little ways off of the forest road, but the copter must have headed towards the mountains.”
      “Quit screwin’ around Jon, I told you they’re not safe to be messing with. Don’t you gotta work today anyways?” Logan asked him.
      “Yeah… I’m gonna get going that way. Call you later.” Jonah said and flipped his phone shut.
      He hesitated. then got back in his truck and started the engine again.
      That’s when he heard gunfire.
      Or did he? Maybe it was the engine’s piston rings bitching at him again…
      More gunfire. Not just a shot, either. A big burst from a big gun.
      “SHIT!” he yelled and got out again, redialing Logan’s office phone and looking around frantically. The phone rang once, twice, three times, and Logan picked up again.
      “Hel-” his friend started, but was cut short by a blood curdling scream from inside the mansion where Jonah was. “Jon? What the fuck was that?! Where are-”
      “Shh! Shut up! I was getting in my truck and I heard gunfire in the mansion, then that just now.” he said in a lower voice than before, still looking around for a sign of anything.
      “Get the fuck outta there. Get your ass home and stay there. You got me? Don’t stick around, just go!”
      “Yeah… Yeah I think that’s a good idea.” Jonah said and got back in his car hastily and shut the door.
      “Call me when you get home, Jon. RPD’s already sending 2 squad cars over. I’ll fill you in when you call me.”
      “Aight,” Jonah replied and hung up, heading South again.
      What the hell is going on? he thought to himself.
      He was so immersed in thought he almost blew a red light, slamming on the brakes. Jonah caught his breath and got home quickly and without further incident, locking his door and cracking open a beer to calm down.
      He clicked the TV on, not intending to watch but rather out of habit. The news reporter dribbled out the uninteresting political and celebrity updates, and Jonah once again dialed the number and extension of his friend, this time from his home phone.
      He didn’t pick up.
      Jonah tried again, but no luck. He tried Logan’s cell phone, too, but he just couldn’t reach him.
      “Come on, damnit, where are you?”
      He threw the phone down onto the receiver and frowned at it, deciding whether or not to try the station again. He glanced at the TV and picked up the phone again.
      It rang once and was abruptly picked up, surprising him. There was a lot of background activity.
      “Jon! Are you home?”
      “Yeah… what the hell is going on over there?”
      “The shit really hit the fan in the last 30 minutes. The cars we sent to the mansion haven’t radioed back since they went inside, and there’s a riot downtown. People are attacking each other and there’s reports of a few deaths. Someone even claimed something about a body gettin’ back up again, so basically people are frantic…”
      “Wait wait, what about the mansion?”
      “Yeah, they haven’t radioed back. I’m heading out there soon but we’re swamped over here so I gotta go alone.”
      “The hell you are. I’ll meet you there.”
      “No Jon, you weren’t the only one to report gunfire from around there. It’s dange-”
      “Don’t fuck with me Logan, I’m going with you.” Jonah ended the conversation.
      “Damnit… alright. Get a flashlight, the last report from the officers was that it was dark in that mammoth house.” Logan said. Jonah heard more chatter on the phone from the station, and his friend barked orders to people on the other side of the line.
      “Yeah, get him into the holding cell. Jon, I’ll see you there. Stay in your car ‘till I get there, I-”
      He was cut off as gunfire exploded through the speaker into Jonah’s ear. He heard Logan’s voice along with others yelling ‘Valentine!’ and ‘What the fuck are..?’ Jonah was scared for a moment. Jill Valentine was a former S.T.A.R.S. member who had worked with the R.P.D.
      “Logan?! What…. Logan!” he yelled, fearing for his friend’s life. Valentine had been dishonorably discharged recently for unknown reasons, or at least for reasons unreleased to the public.
      “Logan pick up the goddamn phone!” Jonah yelled into the receiver. He heard more chattering and shuffling, and finally the man picked up again.
      “Jon, do you still have that 9 millimeter I lent you?” his friend asked in a hasty and grave tone.
      “Yeah… alright. See you there.” Jonah said and hung up. He immediately went over to the floorboard next to the sink in the kitchen, prying it up and reaching into the hidden cubbyhole. He retrieved a black handgun; an M9 Berretta from the R.P.D. that Logan had ‘borrowed.’
      He held it for a minute, examining its edges and curves, its sleek black finish and chrome case ejector. He popped the magazine out to check it, even though he knew it was full. The brass casings shined and flashed light as he slapped the clip back in place and chambered the first bullet, letting the action slide back quickly. It made the metallic sound of a gun ready to take lives.
      Jonah triggered the safety and tucked his pistol into the back of his jeans, grabbed a light and his keys and headed out for his truck. He looked around hurriedly and opened the door.

* * *

      Pulling up near the huge house again, Jonah parked his big black truck and looked around for Logan’s squad car, number 82C. It wasn’t there, so neither was his friend. He watched out of the door and rear window, but nothing moved. Even the trees, rustling a little in the wind, seemed frozen.
      It was eerie. Really eerie. Less than two hours before he’d heard gunshots and a loud scream sitting in almost the exact same spot he was in now.
      “Come on Logan, hurry the fuck up.” Jonah said to no one. He checked his watch; 6:30 PM. The sun would be gone in about an hour, and he really didn’t want to be in that house at night, Logan or no Logan.