Chapter Text
“Fuck.”
As the smoke cleared and the dust settled, Alice inspected the charred remains of her bike. She swiped at the tears running down her cheek, a result of the polluted air surely. She felt no trace of sentimental affection for the heap of twisted metal and burned rubber at her feet; the remains of her only companion over the last six months. None at all. Not one bit.
Well, Alice might admit that maybe one of the tears was for the can of chocolate pudding she had stashed in her saddlebag. Losing that stung a bit. She was saving it for a special occasion. Not that there were special occasions anymore.
Alice cast about, looking for the kukri blade she had left in the skull of a zombie during the fight, stowing her sawn-offs in their holsters as she strode forward the retrieve it. She felt a small twinge in her back as she bent down to pry the blade out of bone. Maybe one of the fuckers got a hit in after all.
Once again Alice found herself with nothing more than the clothes on her back, and most of her ammunition spent. Perhaps launching her bike at the Axeman and blowing it up was a tad dramatic. Fun, but slightly excessive.
She took a moment to find her bearings again, triggering a faded memory of a small town a few miles to the north. It was a small rural town, so there was a chance it hadn’t been picked completely clean yet. Though Alice was beginning to think she was one of the last humans left on the planet; if she could still be considered human.
With an exaggerated sigh, Alice began her trek north, hoping against all odds that there would still be something of use left in the town.
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Okay so maybe that town was a bit more than a few miles north. Roughly half a day had passed since Alice decided it would be a good idea to blow up her bike, and there were still no signs of life except the decaying asphalt crunching beneath her boots. And that stupid fucking crow that kept flying past and eyeballing her. Alice had briefly considered shooting it, but she had precious little ammo left.
The harsh beeping from her watch caught Alice’s attention. Three hours until Umbrella’s next satellite sweep; she needed to find cover fast. Alice picked up her pace to a steady jog, which thanks to Umbrella (ironically) she could keep up for the next few hours.
Slowly the heat shimmer revealed a dark shape on the horizon, and again Alice picked up her speed until she was nearing a full sprint. Nearly there. The first building she came upon looked like a factory of some sort, all corrugated sheet metal and brick chimneys. Alice still had some time before the sweep, so she kept moving in hopes of finding something a little more comfortable.
When she came to a crossroad in the town, Alice turned down what appeared to be the main street. Two pubs, a supermarket, gun store, the town hall, and a strip club.
My kinda town.
Alice relaxed back down to a walk, wary of her surrounds. Something didn’t feel right. That tingling sensation she felt in the back of her mind when the zombies are near, was, well… tingling.
The supermarket had been thoroughly raided, the front windows smashed in, baskets and trolleys and crates strewn about. What she could see of the inside was no more promising. Shelves tipped over, broken or completely bare. A column further back in the shop collapsed in, a stream of light lancing through the gaping hole in the roof. Probably the result of a panicked mob when their neighbours started trying to eat them. Perhaps it was just the lingering stench of the undead that was setting off her spidey sense. But where’s the fun in that?
Sunlight glinted off dark metal further down the dilapidated road. Interesting. Everything else in sight was covered with a thick layer of dust, rust, blood, or all three. Alice slid her blades from their sheaths, spinning them slightly to loosen her muscles. There was definitely something wrong with this place. And Alice intended to find out exactly what it was.
Long, precise strides took Alice further down the road past the supermarket. The stench of zombie was becoming stronger as she approached the town hall. Of course. Where else was she going to find the root of all evil in this town other than the seat of power? This was all starting to look very suspicious. Potential shiny treasure, poorly hidden signs of a group of undead, Umbrella on her tail… Maybe Alice was finally succumbing to the paranoia, but to be completely honest, it was one of the only things that kept her alive this long.
She trusted her gut, and it was telling her something was really off. Best way to tell if there is trap… set it off. Turning away from the two-story brick building, Alice started toward the last place she saw the gleam coming from: outside the strip club.
Holy shit.
She’s beautiful.
I want her. No, I need her.
It really must be a trap. And damn if Umbrella doesn’t know her a little too well, because that sure is some effective bait.
Parked less than five meters from the entrance to the strip club was the sexiest looking bike Alice had ever seen. A sleek, polished black Kawasaki Ninja with silver accents. She was beautiful. And timely. And suspicious as fuck.
Scanning the immediate vicinity for signs of hidden attackers, Alice came up with nothing. Just the ever-present pinging of her zombie-radar and the faint scent of rotten flesh that had pervaded her nostrils since she entered the town. She took a closer look at the bike, searching for bombs, trackers, anything that shouldn’t be there. Going so far as to use her Psionic powers to check the electronic components within the bike. Nothing. It was in perfect working order, clearly well-maintained by someone with a mechanic’s background.
What the fuck is going on here?
Alice checked her watch again. Forty minutes until she would be in range of the satellite. There was no way she was going to outrun it on a bike, even one as glorious as this. So… where to spend the night? There were probably some couches in the titty bar, how clean they are is an entirely different matter. Then again, Alice was often covered head-to-toe in zombie bits, a few questionable stains weren't going to make all that much difference. And she could really use some sleep. Even her mutated system occasionally needed some downtime, and it had been days since she last stopped moving.
She slung a leg over the bike and straddled it. Her butt met the seat, and Alice felt like she was coming home. As if this particular bike had been made for her, built and designed specifically with her comfort in mind. It truly was perfect. She sent a small stream of psionic energy into the ignition, savouring the feel of the beast roaring to life beneath her.
