Chapter 2: Amidst the Darkness

Ethan's car sliced through the fog-draped road, a solitary vessel cleaving the curtain of relentless rain. Two passengers shared his ride - individuals he'd picked up at the gas station. The trio was closing in on town, having passed the weathered welcome sign moments ago.

Ethan stole a glance at the woman seated beside him before returning his focus to the road. "You sure about abandoning your bike back there?" he inquired.

"Yeah, it's fine," she replied, though her unease was palpable. "Safer this way. I'm Claire, by the way, Claire Redfield."

"I'm Ethan Hunter," he murmured. He then eyed the cop in his rearview mirror. "And you, Officer..."

"Jim Hopper," the officer responded. "Deputy sheriff. Or, I should say, I used to be until this mess."

Claire turned to the cop. "Is it that small, the number of survivors?"

Jim sighed. "Yeah, just a handful of us left... the sheriff, his family, and a few others."

Claire's brow furrowed, but before she could respond, the cop continued. "You're Claire Redfield? Redfield... Any relation to Chris?"

"Yeah, he's my brother," she perked up. "Is he here?"

"He's at the police station with his colleagues," Jim Hopper answered.

"Thank god," Claire sighed in relief. "Is he injured or something?"

"He's fine. He's been a tremendous help. He got the sheriff's family to safety before all this started."

"That's a relief..."

Ethan turned his attention to the woman beside him. "So, how did you track your brother here?"

"Track? Well, the last place he mentioned was here," Claire explained. "The last time he called me was a year ago, and he said he'd be here for a while. But after that, no contact."

Ethan arched an eyebrow. "Really? He told you that?"

"Is that a problem?" Claire asked, puzzled.

"Do you even know what his job is?"

Claire frowned. "Only that he works for the military. Nothing more. He never told me."

Ethan simply hummed and continued gazing at the road ahead. "Well, you'll meet your brother soon enough. Just ask him directly."

"Is he in some kind of trouble?" Claire pressed.

Ethan shook his head. "Honestly, I don't know yet."

Claire's frown deepened, but she didn't pursue the matter further. Ethan then shifted his gaze back to his rearview mirror, focusing on the cop. "So, Deputy Sheriff, what were you doing at the gas station?"

Jim sighed. "Trying to contact the military."

"The military?" Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Why not use the town's communication?"

"Communication inside the town is down. All the cables have been severed, and radios aren't working either," the officer explained. "Someone's intentionally doing all that for the looks of it."

Ethan merely hummed, revealing no reaction. Suddenly, the car's radio blared to life, capturing everyone's attention. Ethan grabbed it, and a voice crackled through the speaker.

[Agent Hunter, do you copy?] the voice inquired.

"Copy, sir," Ethan replied. "Before you say anything, I've got two passengers with me. One's Claire Redfield, Chris Redfield's sister, and the other is Deputy Sheriff Jim Hopper."

[Roger that], the voice responded, apparently unconcerned of it for some reason. [Agent Hunter, there's been a change in orders. Military backup is en route.]

"Backup?" Ethan frowned. "What do you mean, sir? I haven't even started my investigation."

[The orders have been issued. They'll arrive in the morning. In the meantime, continue your mission to extract the special operations team and investigate. Understood?]

Ethan clicked his tongue; this was far from ideal. "Understood, sir. I'll go dark once I enter town. There's a jamming signal interfering with the radio."

[Noted. HQ, out.]

With that, the radio fell silent, and so did the passengers.

"Fuck," Ethan muttered.

"What was that about a special operations team? Does that involve my brother?" Claire inquired.

Ethan sighed. "It's a long story. Best not to ask too many questions, ma'am."

"At least the military will be here in the morning, right?" Jim Hopper interjected. "Thank Jesus..."

"Yeah," Ethan simply replied, though he suspected there was more to the situation than met the eye.

The remainder of the journey was a tense and silent affair, punctuated only by the hum of the engine and the rhythmic pattern of raindrops against the windows. They finally arrived at the town a few minutes later.

It was shrouded in darkness, an eerie stillness prevailing. No lights pierced the obsidian night, and the town lay abandoned. Abandoned cars littered the streets, some having collided with suburban houses. The silence was oppressive, not even the creatures that lurked in the shadows made an appearance.

"Better drive slowly," Jim whispered. "We don't want to attract attention."

"Where are they hiding, anyway?" Claire asked. "I don't see anything."

"They're in the houses, under the cars," Jim explained. "They won't move unless there's prey."

The car continued its slow, cautious advance through the town's grim streets. Jim whispered directions to Ethan, guiding him to the police station.

After a few more minutes, they arrived. Ethan parked right in front of the entrance and shut off the engine. He unlocked the car doors.

"Let's go," he said, and the trio exited the vehicle. While Jim and Claire headed toward the station's entrance, Ethan made his way to the car's trunk. He opened it to reveal an arsenal of bullets and guns in various calibers. He selected a shotgun, loaded a few shells, and pocketed the rest.

As he cocked the shotgun, he rejoined the others and pushed open the station door. Jim took the lead, scanning the surroundings. "Hello? Sheriff? It's Jim."

"Jim?" a voice echoed from down the corridor. A middle-aged man with red hair appeared. "Did you make contact with them?"

"I didn't," Jim replied. "But an FBI Agent arrived. I heard backup is coming in the morning."

"Thank goodness," the middle-aged man sighed with relief. His gaze shifted to Ethan, and he approached him. "An FBI Agent? You?"

"Ethan Hunter," the young man introduced himself, shaking hands with the man before him.

"Sheriff William Sheeran," the Sheriff acknowledged.

"I heard there are survivors here," Ethan cut to the chase. "Can I meet them?"

Before the Sheriff could respond, another voice emerged from the corridor's shadows.

"You looking for us?"

Ethan turned to the source and beheld a burly man clad in military gear, his gaze sharp and unyielding.