Disclaimer: If you know 'em, I don't own 'em.
Author's note: A brainsquee that I figured I'd try out. Now I know that even with the plot alone there's going to be heaps of plot holes and such- especially considering there was no time to gather the bodies of the fallen S.T.A.R.S. before the detonation of the mansion (or the bomb hit Raccoon, in Brad's case)- so I won't need any help figuring those out, unless you feel you MUST toss in your own two cents. I'll just add them to the list.
Back to the point… This was primarily written for my own entertainment. Being a S.T.A.R.S. fan, I couldn't help but to play around with the idea of the S.T.A.R.S. coming back. I can only hope you guys like it. Let me know what you think.
Also threw in my OC Jean for fun. No whining. If you don't like OCs, then don't read it.
Chapter 1: Arisen
Thu-thum.
Thu-thum.
A glisten of consciousness. He didn't remember passing out.
Thu-thum. Thu-thum. Thu-thum.
As a matter of fact, he didn't remember anything.
Where...
Warmth was all around him- smothering and comforting all at once, alarming and yet so soothing at the same time.
Who...
The darkness was inviting; there was calm and peace and quiet there. Nothing would disturb him there. He could just sleep and sleep and sleep until he simply ceased to exist.
... Exist? Live?...
Live. Such a strange word. What did it mean?
Live, came a response from deep in his mind. Exist. Be.
Breathe.
Breathe...?
He tried it. It was surprisingly easy; air came in, air came out. Awareness came closer. With the awareness, however, came something else he hadn't been familiar with in years.
Memory.
"J-Jill!"
"Brad!"
Jill? Brad? What are they?...
"N-no-!"
"BRAD!"
"JILL- HELP!"
"STARS..."
Something sharp suddenly bit into his chest, making all his muscles lock and taking away his ability to breathe.
PANIC TERROR FEAR RUN ESCAPE
Brown eyes suddenly opened wide as images assaulted his mind. Bubbles floated up not even an inch away as a sound escaped him, muffled by something over his face. Words rushed his brain in an overwhelming wave, only making the fear coursing through his veins worse. So much he didn't understand...
RUN DANGER ESCAPE RUN
However, his awkward struggling didn't help him escape. He could see an open room in front of him, and he couldn't get there. There was no other choice.
NO RUN NO ESCAPE FIGHT
An arm suddenly stretched out, the hand closed in a fist. It hit something solid, and lines appeared in his vision. Another strike, and the lines exploded. The warmth pulled on him a little bit and began to go away, starting at the top of his head and lowering. It was cold that took its place and made him gasp and brought back his breath. He instinctively followed the warmth; something caught on his legs and made him fall, landing on more cold. Tiny teeth bit into his hands and knees, and although it hurt he paid it hardly any mind- with the thing on his face, breathing was getting harder. A hand quickly rose and ripped the thing away as he continued to breathe deeply. His eyes closed in relief as the fear and panic went away.
Air... breathe... live...
... Alive...
... I am alive...
... I...
The calming breaths suddenly paused as his eyes snapped open.
Brad. Brad Vickers. I am Brad Vickers. Raccoon City S.T.A.R.S. Alpha team's pilot and resident computer tech.
Full sense of self struck him then. He found himself staring at a gray floor- although slowly clearing, his vision was fuzzy, neither did he care to try to figure out what kind of floor it was- and on his hands and knees. Streaks of pink flowed past him in a quickly dying current; concerning, considering the pink seemed to grow as the water ran past his hands.
Alarmed, he brought his right hand up, only to blink in surprise at the sight of the small shards of glass embedded in his palm. The fragments were scattered on the floor below him, making him quickly climb to his feet while carefully stepping out of the range of the mess. His gaze- now wide and disbelieving- traveled back and up, following the trail of destruction to the machine. He was unfamiliar with it; it appeared to be mostly a giant test tube, wires and hoses snaking from the base and several ports in the back. There seemed to be an oxygen mask laying on the ground in front of it that had come from inside- what he had taken off of his face. A large red light was blinking near a monitor to the right of the tube- a warning indicator, perhaps? Most likely because he had broken out. The monitor itself showed a flat green line with the number zero in the upper corner. The water was coming from the tube (whether or not he was right to call it water, he didn't want to think about) and had mostly drained.
As his eyes drifted down, he caught a glance of his reflection in a small pool. He hardly looked presentable- pale, his eyes wide, and his hair a mess. He rose a hand to run it through his brown strands and push them back out of his eyes, but it was then he realized something much more important.
He was completely and utterly naked.
A blush was quick to rise to his face, and he instinctively covered himself. He never was one to openly show himself off, and he wasn't about to start; especially not here... wherever he was. There had to be something he could use- even a sheet would be useful at this point. Coverings, a tweezers to pull the glass form his knees and hands, bandages- these had to be around here somewhere...
His eyes rose to check the rest of the room, and he suddenly stopped.
The walls and ceiling were a sterile white, blinding with the bright lights overhead. Stainless steel equipment- lab table, sitting stools, multiple machines he wasn't sure of- were gathered on the far side of the room, nearest to the only observable exit. A tall white cabinet was located near the door, most likely containing the supplies he needed. However, it held his attention for merely a few moments, as what was on his side of the room quickly halted any effort to move across the room.
The machines looked just like the one he had broken out of- right down to the number of buttons near the monitor. There was ten altogether; five along both of the two adjacent walls, while the third held some kind of workspace. The monitors of nine of them were active, jumping green lines and numbers similar to a heart monitor on eight of them, while his remained a flat zero. The final one was apparently off. The machine he had been resting in (although it felt more like being entombed, now that he was out) was in the corner of the wall opposite of the door, towards the middle of the gathering. Condensation had gathered on the glass of the other running machines, making the figures inside hazy and indistinct.
It was morbid curiosity that drew him to the machine to the left of his. It felt like some horror movie; he was defenseless and naked, and yet all he could do was step closer as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He didn't know what to expect as his hand rose to touch the glass- maybe the tube suddenly exploding as something like that Tyrant thing burst out to run him through like it had Wesker. His heart was already pounding in his chest, but he tried his best to keep his breathing in check. The whole situation was a bit much to handle, everything happening so fast without explanations.
The glass was warm to the touch, the water inside no doubt being the same as in his. His palm flat against it, he swiped some of the tiny beads of water away to reveal the creature within. It was a familiar face his eyes met.
The bite returned to his chest, keeping him from even stepping back in shock. A strangled sound escaped him, but nothing coherent as he stared.
Forest. Forest Speyer.
But you... Jill and Barry said they found... Then Chris... And then you... and he...
But this was a very much living Forest within- the monitor line continued to jump, and his chest rose and fell with each breath. There were no signs of trauma on his face. He looked as though the mansion incident had never happened.
The sense of horror got a little stronger as Brad's eyes suddenly moved to the next machine over. Approaching it, he hesitantly raised a hand and wiped away the condensation.
Captain Enrico Marini. Who, according to Jill, had been shot and killed by an unknown assailant, although they assumed it had been the traitorous Wesker.
Another dead man brought back to life.
His mind and body now seemingly disconnected, he moved from machine to machine, unveiling the faces within as he mentally reeled at the shock of each one. Edward Dewey. Joseph Frost. Jean Rubenson. Kevin Pooley. Richard Aiken. Kenneth Sullivan. All dead members of S.T.A.R.S., all somehow back among the living.
Brad stood in the middle of the eerie collection, overwhelmed and numb. A part of him was ecstatic to have the team back and alive and well; things hadn't been the same since that July night, the survivors of the team resigning and the squad being disbanded altogether before the city had gone to hell. In the same breath, however, the only dead people he had seen come back had been the ones trying to eat him alive. The thought of them all breaking through the glass and pursuing him for their next meal chilled him to the bone. If he could find a weapon, he'd find it difficult to kill them to save himself; then again, he probably wouldn't get out alive at all if his friends were all zombies. No weapons, no help- hell, no clothes...
The thought of the cabinet returned to him, and his attention diverted. Get a grip, Vickers, he thought to himself. Set priorities. Do what has to be done.
Priority one: stop being naked.
Glancing around the room again to make sure there was nothing out to devour him, he hurried to the cabinet, feeling very awkward- he wasn't used to his manhood hanging completely free like it was now. Quickly pulling open one of the doors, his hopes rose a little upon seeing a stack of folded white on the eye-level shelf. A quick count revealed ten of them and he pulled the topmost off, unfolding it. It was a long white sheet, apparently made out of some kind of vinyl. Certainly not see-through, which was his top concern. Folding it in half a few times- the thing was big enough to cover a person- he then wrapped it around his waist, tucking one end in to hold it in place, like he would with a towel after a shower.
A slight sting as he secured the sheet reminded him of the glass embedded in his hands and knees. Bringing his palms up, he carefully observed the wounds. There was no longer blood dripping from the shards, and it seemed that the amount that had already escaped was beginning to dry. Well, that'd make pulling them out easier... Moving on to his second priority, he looked through the cabinet again, this time seeking tweezers and bandages. The search came empty until he discovered a red tin box with a white cross on it- a first aid kit. Another glance at his- sleeping?- comrades assured him they hadn't moved before he took the box. A quick peek inside told him what he needed was inside, and another glance at the room around him determined he'd use the table near the machines for the job. Scurrying across the room (still feeling awkward, but not as much) he stood at the workspace and pulled the shards out of his hands first. Each quick tug stung a little bit, but not as bad as he had thought they would. Perhaps the shock and touch of adrenaline in his system was nulling the pain? Possible, although he wasn't a medical expert by any means.
Most of the shards seemed to have fallen out on their own, and so the process hadn't taken long- five minutes or so. He was reaching for the bandages when he noticed something very strange. Pausing, he lifted both palms to look closely, wanting to be sure. His brow furrowed as his heart began to pound a little bit again.
... The hell?!
All the punctures, scratches, and scrapes- right down to the deepest one- was gone. Vanished. Not even a scar marred the skin. He gently touched where the shards had been. No pain what so ever. Startled, he looked down to his knees, only to find the skin knitting back together so fast it looked like someone had recorded the process and played it back in fast forward. It was both fascinating and a little horrifying for the man to watch- fascinating because it was useful, and horrifying because it was happening to him.
His knees had healed in no time at all, and Brad could only stand there, unable to move.
What... what's happening to me?...
There was no explanation for this sudden development in his mind. It just didn't happen. And yet, there he was- bloody glass shards on the table, and no wounds to show for it. Was it because he was killed by that thing in Raccoon City? It hadn't been like the other zombies; it was too intelligent, too steady. Maybe... Maybe he had been infected with a different kind of virus? Maybe whatever had made that thing? But if that was the case, why wasn't he turning into it? The others had only come into contact with the regular virus, and they didn't seem to be turning into zombies.
But according to Chris and Rebecca, three of them had- Forest had chased Chris around in the mansion, while the young medic had confronted both Edward and Jean after they had died. But all three looked fine now.
None of this was making sense. It was frustrating, and at the same time made him want to panic. He had no clue as to where he was, how he had gotten there, why he was even alive… He didn't know what that creature in Raccoon City had done to him; all he remembered was the massive hand reaching for his face before everything went black. Whatever it had done, he was sure it was deserved, considering how he had abandoned the team in the forest after watching Joseph get mauled by those undead dogs…
He turned towards the machine that held the man in question. Like all the others, the blonde looked for all the world like he was taking a nap; his face was calm and serene, and there were no wounds, as far as he could tell. He still felt guilty about the whole thing- leaving everyone on their own like that. Maybe if he hadn't left they could've found a way to save most of the Bravo team... But no, he was the one up and about, walking around while everyone else was trapped in giant test tubes.
Then enough with the pity party and get them out.
The self chastisement spurred him to action. His first thought was to return to the cabinet, taking the rest of the sheets before remembering one of the machines wasn't in use and putting one back. He brought them back to the workspace, setting all but one on the nearby stool and returning to his fallen teammates. Quickly deciding Enrico would be the one to try to wake up first- he was more comfortable taking orders from someone else, and the older man would always be Captain in his book- he approached his machine. Being the team computer guy, surely the basics of it wouldn't be too hard to figure out...
After studying the control panel for a little bit, he brought a menu up on the screen, noticing the number for his heart rate remained in the upper right corner. After browsing through a few submenus, he found the command to drain the fluid. A prompt appeared on the screen.
DRAIN?
YES NO
He pressed the button underneath the "yes" option, and smiled in victory as the machine's humming grew a little louder and the fluid level inside began to lower. He began to unfold the sheet to prepare for when the other man would come out, but another prompt caught his attention.
OPEN WHEN DRAINED?
YES NO
He again pressed the button associated with "yes" and watched as the word "DRAINING" blinked on the screen. The water was quickly dwindling, and he finished unfolding the sheet until it was the same size as his when he had put on his. Just in time too, as a beep- it seemed so loud in the quiet of the room- signaled that the water was gone. With a mechanical whir, the front half of the test tube moved forward just a little before moving along the bottom track, spinning to the back of the tube and leaving a wide enough opening for the unconscious Enrico Marini to fall forward through.
Fortunately, Brad had reacted in time and managed to catch him, although the additional weight sent him to his knees. He had been holding a corner of the sheet in either hand, and had thus wrapped it around him as he had fallen into him. Quickly recovering from the impact, he set his captain down on his knees, taking the oxygen mask off his face before putting his hands on his shoulders holding him up as he gave him a gentle shake.
He was cold.
That was the first thing Enrico's barely conscious mind registered.
"Enrico?"
Cold and tired, although his fatigue seemed to be lifting fairly quickly. Which left him with the cold.
"Hey... Enrico..."
The voice was vaguely familiar, but no name or face was connecting with it yet. His mind wasn't working...
"Captain?"
Captain...
That word...
He was beginning to feel the rest of his body- he was sitting on his legs, a pair of hands on his shoulders shaking him a little bit. It was a little annoying, but he was too distracted to react to it.
My... team...
Numerous faces flashed in his memory, none of them associated with a name.
They...
"Come on, Captain... wake up..."
... They need me...
It seemed to take too much effort to open his eyes, and when he did the bright white of the world around him made him quickly shut them again with a slight groan.
"Enrico!"
The relief in the voice spurred him to try again, this time the movement becoming a little easier. His vision was blurry and he had to blink a few times before things began to focus. Brown eyes met his dark ones as he looked up. Pieces began to come together.
"... Vickers?"
"Thank God... Are you alright? Do you feel okay? What do you remember?" came the questions as he let go of his shoulders.
He had to focus his thoughts for a few seconds before anything would come- slowly, his mind was beginning to catch up. "I remember..."
"... Enrico?!"
"Jill... there's a traitor... in S.T.A.R.S..."
"What?!"
"AAAGH!"
"ENRICO!"
"Um-brel-la..."
He brought a hand to his chest, over where the bullet had hit him. He had been shot. Shot and killed, no doubt by the traitor. He hadn't figured out who it was, although he was pretty sure it wasn't Jill. The reports he had found specified they were male.
"So you remember dying too?" came the soft response as Brad recalled his own death. At least his had been instantaneous; Enrico had been forced to suffer for a few seconds longer.
That almost made the older man start. "Too?" he asked, almost looking disbelieving.
"Yeah. But that's not important right now- we need to wake up the others."
Enrico didn't like how that sentence had ended, but it made him look around. They seemed to be in a lab- like the ones under the mansion... That alone would have set him on the edge, but it was then he noticed the giant test tubes, although not able to see the people in them.
"Where... are we?..."
"Not sure. I woke up on my own and managed to break out; it doesn't look like we can expect the same of everyone else."
More talk of other people... This was becoming more and more ominous. "Everyone else?"
Brad visibly hesitated, not sure how to explain that the other deceased members of S.T.A.R.S. were alive and floating in giant test tubes like exotic fish on display. "You have to see for yourself." He briefly lowered his eyes, quickly averting them a moment later. "Erm... after you cover up, that is."
One look down at himself, and Enrico understood what he meant. He pulled the sheet around himself and tucked the one end in, Brad standing and turning towards the other machines to give him some semblance of privacy. "Now," began the captain as he prepared to stand up, the pilot turning and offering a hand. The older man took it and together they managed to get him to his feet- his muscles were still a little weak from a long period of disuse.
He feels so light... Did he loose weight in that machine?
Enrico looked the same; his arms were just as muscled, and he certainly didn't look starved. Yet it took hardly any effort on Brad's behalf to get him up. Perhaps he hadn't needed help getting up at all...
"My God..." came the breathed reaction to the sight of the familiar faces within the tubes. His team- all but one, the rookie Rebecca Chambers- stood submerged, unresponsive. Like some kind of science experiment. "Who did this?..."
"Don't know," came the response, Brad finally getting the time to push his hair back and out of his face. "But considering what got us all killed, I don't think we can trust their intentions." Not after his super-fast healing; whoever they were, they had obviously tampered with him. Of course, he wasn't about to mention that now- to stir up doubt now wouldn't help their situation at all. "That's why I started waking everyone up. Thought I should start with you, Captain."
Enrico patted his shoulder. "I trust your judgment, Brad. Let's get everyone out of these things."
Armed with a sheet each, Brad drained Forest's tube (Enrico watching so he could show Forest when he woke up) and left his captain to catch him while he moved on to Joseph. He knew that the vehicle specialist called him "Chickenheart" behind his back, but now wasn't the time to let hard feelings get in the way- they were all in this together, whether they liked it or not.
Frost felt like he weighed maybe twenty pounds when he fell from the tube, Brad effortlessly catching him and managing to get the sheet around his waist before pulling off the oxygen mask and lowering him to his knees. He started gently shaking his shoulders to get him to wake up. "Joseph; hey Joseph, wake up..."
A slight sound and the downward movement of his brow were the first indication of consciousness, followed by a quiet groan. The voice was familiar, but the hazy mind couldn't place it. All he could register was cold and someone was holding him sitting up by his shoulders. He had liked where he had been- dark, quiet, unfeeling- but the persistent voice pulled him from the rest, making him crack his eyes open and cringe a little at the bright light.
"Come on Joseph… I need you to wake up Jean…"
Jean…?
The name was familiar, but no face came to mind; instead, what came was a scene- long, waist-high grasses, darkness of night, trees spotting the landscape, the flashlight on his gun shaking ever so slightly with his aim while he focused on nothing; nothing there nothing a growl behind him OH GOD-
A sudden gasp escaped him as his eyes shot open, and in the next instant a hand came over his mouth to muffle any other sound that tried to come.
"It was scary, I know, but we don't have time to panic right now."
Amber eyes blinked several times before they focused on the brown ones nearby, an almost confused look flashing over his gaze as he tried to place the face. Slowly- to make sure he wouldn't scream- the hand over his mouth pulled away. A few more moments passed.
"B-Brad?"
A slight smile. His memory was coming back. "It's good to see you too. Let's get you up- but... ah... might want to take care of the sheet first."
A downward gesture from the pilot made the blonde man look down. A few seconds of quiet passed.
"... Why am I naked?"
"We all are," came the answer as he rose to his feet, turning away to check on Enrico and Forest, the latter struggling a little to get to his feet while his captain helped him up.
"And where the hell are we?"
"Don't know. I was the first one to wake up, and I woke up Enrico. Now he's helping Forest and I need you to wake up Jean." A glance told him the man was covered, and he turned back to him and offered a hand.
"Jean?" came the question, sounding moderately alarmed. "She's here? Where is she?" A momentary pause as he took the offered hand. "And why do you need me to wake her up?"
"You're her best friend," he reasoned, followed by a brief pause and a slight blush. "And... well... she's naked."
Joseph stumbled as he sputtered. "What?! Just because I'm going to be the one waking her up doesn't mean she's going to take it any better! When a woman unexpectedly wakes up naked, seeing any guy is going to set her off- I've seen enough rape cases to know that!"
"Except we don't have time to argue about it," came his snapped- although hushed- response, taking hold of his shoulders and looking him dead in the eyes. "We don't know where we are, how we got here, or how we're even alive. I watched you die, Joseph- I was still in the chopper when those dogs started tearing your throat out. I know for a fact that nobody here but me survived those two nights in July. Everyone here died," he stressed, giving his shoulders a slight shake with each word. "I don't know who did this," he released one shoulder to gesture at the room around them, "but with how everyone died, I strongly doubt we can trust them." The hand returned to his shoulder. "And Jean is going to need you, because she trusts you the most and she's going to be uncomfortable as hell because she's the only woman out of the nine of us. Are you willing to be there for the team- for her?"
Joseph could only stare for several seconds. Brad suddenly becoming gutsy enough to confront him like that was unheard of back in S.T.A.R.S.; something must've happened to make him brave. The surprise receding, he sighed and turned his eyes towards Enrico and Forest, who where now moving towards other machines. He wondered who all was here- Brad had said there was nine of them altogether- but then figured he would learn sooner or later. "You're right," he quietly acquiesced. "Guess I just got freaked out by the whole thing..." His gaze returned to him. "But when did you turn into a motivational speaker?"
A shrug as he released the vehicle specialist. "Situation called for it, I guess." He nodded towards the other machines. "Jean's this way."
The sight of their teammates encapsulated in tubes was still unnerving; Forest and Enrico were opening the machines holding Edward and Richard respectively, leaving Kevin and Kenneth to be awakened by whoever got there first. After a quick detour to get another set of sheets, they stopped in front of the machine holding the one female in the room. Brad quickly went about draining the tank.
"Be sure to cover her up as soon as you can; she'll be disoriented and won't be able to remember much at first."
"Like me?"
"Yeah. Like you."
"Got it."
He unfolded the sheet as Brad walked away, heading for another machine. The fluid level continued to quickly lower, and he- nervously?- swiped a stubborn and wet lock of hair out of his eyes. He had always kept it tamed, or at least hidden, with his bandanna back in S.T.A.R.S.; he didn't have that option now, and so he'd have to just deal with it. He just hoped Jean would still recognize him…
The front half of the test tube slid to one side, and he tried his best to keep his eyes up. However, he couldn't help but to notice that a lot of her hair had fallen over her shoulders, and being the length it was- nearly down to the small of her back- it was fortunately covering a good amount of her chest. Well, it was one less thing for him to worry about…
And then she fell forward, him quickly reaching out to catch her, his arms coming around her to wrap her in the sheet and managing to not catch her arms in it as he did. There was no effort on her part to keep herself from hitting the floor, and although she weighed considerably less than him the impact was still enough to knock him off balance and to his knees.
"Whoa, hey-" he said softly, narrowly avoiding a mouthful of hair. "Easy, Jean- I've got you covered… Erm… Literally."
A quiet sound escaped her, although she didn't move quite yet. That left him with a dilemma: continue to hold her and keep the sheet around her, or sit her up so she wouldn't jump to the wrong conclusions when she came to? As much as he wanted to keep the embrace- Brad had said everyone there had died, meaning Alpha team had probably been too late and she had died a terrible, lonely death- he knew he'd have to move eventually. Maybe if he just adjusted his hold on the sheet...
Carefully, making sure her covering didn't slip, he put one hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her up. Her hair was firmly stuck to where it was- fortunately- so nothing of her upper body had been displayed during her fall. She was completely covered now; or at least he assumed so- he couldn't see her back. He had never seen her with her hair down- none of them had, really- and he wondered what her hair would look like when it dried.
"Hey, Jean..." He gently gave her shoulder a shake. "Time to wake up..."
Her brow furrowed ever so slightly with another small sound, although her head didn't lift from her chin resting on her chest. He took the slight movement as a good sign, and persisted.
"Jean?"
A slight groan this time, and her eyes cracked open.
"Come on, Jean; it's me, Joseph."
"Jo-seph?..." Her voice was quiet, but it accompanied her eyes opening just a little bit more.
He couldn't help but to smile a bit. "Yeah, it's me."
A few moments passed, her eyes distant. Then she gasped slightly and her right hand quickly came to the left side of her waist. The first thing he had remembered when he woke up was how he had died- her reaction didn't bode well at all.
"It's okay," he reassured her gently. "You're fine- everyone here is."
She blinked a few times before lifting her head, seeming to study him as she tried to identify the name with his face. It was several seconds before she spoke.
"Where... are we?"
"Not sure," he answered. "Brad woke me up. Whatever's going on, it's not sitting well with the team."
Feeling cold, Jean rubbed her arms, which led her to realize that she wasn't wearing a shirt. A quick glance down led to a double take. "Um... Joseph? Why am I wearing a sheet?"
He felt a slight heat creep up into his face. "About that... You see, none of us were wearing anything when we woke up, so..."
Quickly, a hand came to her chest to hold the sheet on.
Releasing her shoulder, he raised the one hand in defense. "I covered you up the moment you came out, and I swear to God I didn't look- honest." Although he couldn't help but to notice the two rather big scars on her chest, rough-edged, almost star-shaped, and about four inches apart. The hand keeping the sheet on was covering most of them at the moment, but they still looked like they had done a lot of damage and had required extensive surgery. Whatever had caused it must've been serious.
Her other hand sought out the edges to reassure herself she was covered. Her hand found his, and he released the sheet once he was sure she had it. "Let's get you up; we should report to Enrico."
Her eyes lit up at the name of her captain. "Enrico? He's here?"
He nodded. "Most of Bravo team is, I think-" Not so much a good thing, since that meant they had died, but he didn't tell her that yet- "But there's only two of us from Alpha team as far as I know." He rose to his feet- much easier this time than it had been the first time- and he offered her his hand to help her up.
She tried to get up on her own first- Chicago girls, he thought amusedly- and he slipped an arm around her as she stumbled. Once they had her on her feet, she adjusted the sheet, wrapping it around herself and tucking one end in so she wouldn't have to hold on to it. He averted his eyes as she did, glancing to see Richard and Edward standing together and looking confused, Brad catching Kevin as he fell from the machine, Enrico heading for Kenneth's and Forest approaching the two looking lost. He performed a quick headcount- Kenneth would be the last one.
Once everyone was awake, they all met in the center of the room. The hushed conversations between those present stopped when Enrico cleared his throat. He was the only authoritative figure in the group- it was up to him to lead them.
"Alright everyone, we don't know how much time we have, so let's make this quick. We don't know what day it is, where we are, or how we got here. We have reason to doubt the intentions of whoever is responsible for this. The only thing we are absolutely sure of is that all of us here- in either the incident in the Arklay Mountains or something related- all of us died."
A hushed "My God..." from Kenneth, and several checked themselves for a pulse. Joseph briefly rubbed his neck.
"Brad is the only source of information we have regarding these incidents at this point. We'll get a brief overview from him." A nod towards the brown-eyed pilot, indicating the floor was his. "Brad."
He stepped forward. "As you all know, Bravo team was sent into the forest on the Arklay Mountains on July 23. After no contact for almost twenty four hours, Alpha team went in for a search and rescue mission. Of the entire S.T.A.R.S. unit, the only survivors were Chris Redfield, Barry Burton, Jill Valentine, and myself of Alpha team, and Rebecca Chambers of Bravo team."
A quiet sigh of relief from Jean; Rebecca had survived.
"According to the files retrieved by Chris and the others, the pharmaceutical company Umbrella had been performing experiments on an artificially made virus in aims of creating a biological weapon. An outbreak in the underground facilities within the forest reduced all the staff to mindless carriers. After massive casualties, the remainder of S.T.A.R.S. armed the facility self-destruct system and escaped before detonation."
He paused, giving the team time to absorb this. Joseph raised his hand.
"Joseph?"
"If just the four from Alpha team survived, where's Wesker? Judging by the pattern, shouldn't he be with us?" A few nods from the others in agreement- they would feel a lot better if he was around.
"If we're lucky, he's rotting in Hell," came his answer, venom touching his tone. The surprise in their eyes spurred him on. "He was working for Umbrella from day one; it was his goal to lead us to that damn place the whole time. He had Umbrella agents keep Barry's family threatened with death so he would have no choice but to help him. We were supposed to test the mutations the virus caused to see how good they were in combat; we weren't supposed to survive. We were his little piggies- that's what he told Chris before one of the mutations killed him." His gaze turned towards Enrico. "We're pretty sure he's the one that shot and killed you, Captain."
A smolder of fire in the dark eyes- he should have known...
He waited for the others' murmurs to hush before he continued. "A little over two months later- sometime late-September- the virus somehow spread to Raccoon City. Within a few days, the entire population was turned into the carriers faced in the mountains. Chris, Barry, and Rebecca had left town before then; Jill and I were the only S.T.A.R.S. left. Last I remember, Jill was okay; she was with me when I died in front of the station. The next thing I remember is waking up here." He stepped back to where he had been, trying to shake off the memory of the grating call of "STARS..." that had come from the monster that had killed him.
A length of quiet followed as those present processed the information. The S.T.A.R.S. commander was a traitor; they had all died; Raccoon City was overrun by the virus that killed them… Everything they had fought for was gone.
Now what?
"Thank you, Brad." Enrico paused for a breath as he prepared to speak again. It wouldn't be easy keeping everyone motivated; in this kind of situation it would be easier to surrender to their captors. "Things look grim, people- we have no weapons, gear, provisions, and we're quite possibly in the belly of enemy territory. But we've been in tight spots before; with discipline and teamwork, we'll make it out again. Chris, Jill, Barry, and Rebecca are out there somewhere- quite possibly fighting Umbrella on their own. It's up to us to get out and find them. I don't know how long it's been, but I'm itching for some action and I'm not about to let them have all the fun. I say it's time we give Umbrella a little payback. Who's with me?"
A few heartbeats of silence as the speech sank in. Then Forest stepped forward.
"I'm with you."
Richard followed. "I'm with you, Enrico."
One by one, the collection of people came together to reform their team. Lack of supplies be damned, they weren't about to allow Umbrella to get away with it.
Joseph saluted sharply. "Sir- Joseph Frost, reporting for duty."
Their captain couldn't help but to grin a bit as they gathered around him. This was the team he knew...
"Thank you, everyone. I can already tell this is gonna be one hell of a comeback." Now, down to business... "First things first- we need to scavenge what we can. Information, tools, supplies- anything that will be useful. Until we know more about who brought us back, we're better off not drawing attention to ourselves."
"Erm- Enrico?"
The captain's attention turned to Brad. "Yes?"
A pause as the pilot thought on how to say what he had in mind. "The Raccoon City S.T.A.R.S. was completely disbanded a month after the incident- if we're going to be a team again, we're going to need a new name."
That's right- S.T.A.R.S. had been mere puppets in Wesker's hands until that night. They would need something new; something separate from his influence. Dark eyes traveled over the group of individuals listening attentively.
"Any suggestions?"
To be continued…
Author's note: That's it for this chapter. Let me know what you think.