Resident Evil: Restoration
Chapter One: That Friday Feeling
Author's Note: As a common-place I do not own the copyright to Resident Evil or its affiliates Capcom. I hope this short introduction will encourage you to come back and read more. All feedback is greatly appreciated as I still need to hone my skills; also, any input regarding plot changes or modifications is welcomed. Foremost, I hope you enjoy!
Under the glorious mid-morning sun Grayson City's skyline sparkled and Ashley McAllen remembered why she had chosen to move here many years ago. A pleasant, vibrant city in the American Midwest - like this one - had been part of her American dream from an early age, after years of experiencing what could only be called a 'troubled' childhood in the hustle and bustle of New York City. The decision had been at great personal cost to Ashley, severing all ties with her family back east and the trust fund that came with it, but it also gave her a great sense of pride to realise that everything she had today was the reward of her own ingenuity and skill. It had been two long years since she had arrived in Grayson City with only a suitcase full of clothes and two thousand bucks saved from serving average coffee at a tourist café near Times Square.
As she sipped on her black coffee and stared at the sparkling river that divided the city, she realised that it was mainly luck that had guided her to this small, but expensive, apartment on the Riverfront. Umbrella Corporation had an elusive history, some sort of media blackout after an incident in the Midwest had made them a very private organisation, but they had been impressed by Ashley's scientific background and welcomed her with open arms.
Shattering her daydream, her dull melodic ringtone filled the room and she remembered the one piece of nightmare in her American dream; her boss, Sandra. Sandra was a stickler for punctuality, formality and, most infuriatingly, zero personality which led to an almost mechanised atmosphere in the workplace that Ashley just couldn't bear.
Resisting an uncomfortable shudder, Ashley flicked open her phone and impersonated her best automated voice: "Hello, this is Researcher Ashley McAllen, how are you today Sandra?"
The chill in Sandra's voice could have frozen the coffee in her cup.
"This is a company, Ashley, and as such I would expect you to at least be punctual!" she snarled before continuing her almost ritualistic tirade against Ashley, from the way she wore her curly blonde hair down to the fact she had friends in the workplace.
Ashley was unfazed by the usual bluster that surrounded Sandra but couldn't for the life of her understand why Sandra thought she should be in work at ten thirty on a Friday morning, when her shift didn't start until midday.
"Can you not remember anything Ashley? I reminded you at the beginning of the week that we had a very special guest today that you were to personally escort around the facility."
The colour drained from Ashley's face as the memories rushed back to her. She instantly forgot the coffee on the counter as she rushed into her bedroom.
"O…Of course I remember," she faked, hastily pulling on a pair of sleek black trousers and buttoning a slim-fit white shirt over her slender frame. "I will be in the foyer of administration within the hour Sandra, you can count on me."
A laboured sigh was the only reply before the subtle click of the line going dead. Ashley began to panic almost immediately, charging into the bathroom and continuing her morning routine whilst the radio continued to stream from the kitchen. The previous report about ideal camping spots in the Grayson forest had been light-hearted and cheery but, suddenly, the reporter's tone soured.
"Reports are coming in this morning of a missing person around Lake Mulholland… Grayson City Police Department describe Michael Barnes, 43, as an avid fisherman of average build and Caucasian decent, recognisable by his distinctive dragon tattoo on his forearm and an engraved watch that he always wears. His family and friends are very concerned as to his whereabouts so any information would be greatly appreciated. This is Amber Rawlings for GCRC - now back to Andy in the studio."
Ashley paused straightening her hair as she remembered that this wasn't the first time she had heard about the dangers of visiting Lake Mulholland. There had been a report at work of brown bears apparently breeding near the lake due to the plentiful salmon. She made a mental note to avoid the Lakeview Parkway on the drive home that night, before hastily applying her make-up and checking her - now straightened - curls in the bathroom mirror. Leaving her double bed unmade, she picked up her car keys and was halfway down the corridor before cursing silently and heading back to her apartment. Lying on the kitchen counter, next to her stone-cold coffee, was the Umbrella employee card that had been the bane of her memory for the past two years. Ashley could remember at least a dozen times that Sandra had scorned her for forgetting the bland identity card that allowed her access into the mid-security labs.
For the second time, she began to make her way towards the front door as the familiar sound of keys in the lock welcomed her. Opening with a reassuring squeak, the door revealed a tall, well-built man in his late twenties, wearing leathers, who smiled as he caught a glimpse of her. Ryan had been her boyfriend for a year now. A sergeant in the GCPD, he sometimes worked nights, and yesterday had been no different. She could already see the slight bags developing below his emerald eyes.
"Hey babe," he said "You off out? Stay away from Lake Mulholland, someone went missing last night."
She smiled back at him.
"I heard over the radio. I don't think I want to risk it just for the view."
She kissed him playfully on the cheek. "Sorry I have to go so quickly but Sandra is going to have my ass if I miss this meeting."
He smiled before throwing himself onto the bed and wrapping the covers around himself, murmuring that she should stay safe and call him if she needed him. Despite all his macho appeal, Ryan always was a big softie around her, despite his protests to the guys down the precinct, and he always looked out for her. They had met at an Umbrella sponsored corporate event that she was attending and he, strangely, was guarding. They always joked that if it wasn't for Umbrella's paranoia about security breaches they would never have met and, after nearly six months of living together, she didn't want to think about that.
Closing the door quietly behind her, Ashley exited the apartment building and shivered in the fresh autumn chill before entering her green sedan. The monotonous drive to work passed without incident and, in no time at all, Ashley's car was pulling onto the gravel drive outside the impressive Umbrella complex.
A modern mixture of white-washed concrete, steel and glass, the complex was an impressive site amongst the immaculate lawns and yellowing trees of the driveway. Ashley had often wondered who bankrolled the stylish laboratory and, as she looked to the fourth floor penthouse, she saw the silhouette of a figure standing on the balcony and muttered jealously:
"Him."
She pulled into her designated parking bay, quickly retrieved her creased lab coat from the back seat, and walked briskly through the glass double doors into the spacious atrium. A large glass desk dominated the room with several receptionists sitting behind a bank of computer screens and phones.
As Ashley approached the desk, one of the receptionists turned to her. Bubbly and loud with long brown hair, Samantha was the exact sort of person that Sandra believed should not work at Umbrella, but she had instantly become friends with Ashley. She looked up at Ashley with her kind, hazel eyes before uttering:
"Sandra is on the warpath again - " she rolled her eyes - "and told me to tell you," - and now she put on her funniest impression - "to get to conference room C as soon as you arrive."
She stifled a giggle, before whispering:
"Remember to meet us at Raven at about nine." She paused dramatically. "If you can tear yourself away from your hubby, that is."
Ashley feigned thought before replying, "Of course I will be there, have a vodka Martini waiting for me."
With that, Ashley hurried up one of the flanking stainless steel staircases to the second floor.
Ashley continued down the network of corridors casually saying "Hey," or waving to passing clerks and researchers. Despite Sandra's hardest efforts Ashley was well-liked in the office. The thick pine door labelled 'Conference Room C' loomed ominously up before her and she swallowed hard before knocking lightly. A stern "Enter," returned from behind the door and Ashley cursed her forgetfulness again as the door opened, revealing a plush office centred around a long wooden table flanked by black leather chairs.
Sitting in the furthest chair away from Ashley was Sandra, sporting a horrible zebra print skirt and purple blouse that did not aid her short stature. She motioned to Ashley to sit at one of the chairs, without disrupting her in-depth conversation with an enigmatic-looking man dressed in black, whose eyes were masked by a pair of black shades.
"… of course we can accommodate any research that you wish to bring to this facility, sir, and you have access to all the resources you require."
She flicked her eyes towards Ashley before continuing, "Obviously, specifics cannot be discussed now we have been joined by my associate but if you have any queries, do not hesitate to visit my office on the third floor and, in the meantime, Ashley will be happy to give you a guided tour of the laboratories."
Whoever was visiting obviously did not find pleasure in conversation and answered with a curt nod as Sandra left for her room, casually glaring at Ashley as a warning on the way out.
Once alone in the room with the stranger, Ashley felt overwhelmed almost immediately; his presence for some unknown reason intimidated her. Regaining her composure, she smiled, before saying "Good morning, Mr…" she paused for a response, which seemed to take forever, before he gruffly replied:
"Walkers… Bret Walkers."
"Well Mr Walkers, if you would like to follow me, I will begin by showing you administration and then proceed to the laboratories on the underground levels."
As Bret stood up to follow her she realised just how intimidating he was. At over six foot three and incredibly well built, Bret looked like a one man army, which was not aided by his surly attitude. Ashley, trying desperately to remove all references to Duke Nukem from her mind, began the almost automated tour around the administration facility. Walkers seemed much more interested in the garish art that Sandra had decorated the walls with than the corporate brochure that Ashley was regurgitating, until they reached the elevator to the laboratories on the lower floors. Swiping her security card over the panel and punching in the five digit code, she continued her usual speech:
"This facility prioritises safety and security above all else, as such, we only have two elevators and a secured stairwell down the laboratories to prevent any corporate mishap or sabotage from occurring."
Behind the dark shades, Walters seemed to be taking in every detail of, what Ashley considered, the most boring part of the tour.
"I will escort you around the B1 bio-laboratories before leaving you in the capable hands of Dietrich Van Oort, our head researcher, who will be able to take you down to the high security labs on B3."
Entering the cramped lift, Ashley yet again couldn't shake the awkward feeling she experienced around Bret and willed the stylish steel and glass elevator to go that little bit faster to the laboratories.
The glass doors opened and revealed a clinically clean set of white corridors, all furnished with an assortment of potted plants, leather chairs and glass end tables whilst several lab technicians and researchers continued their daily work.
"If you would like to follow me, Mr Walkers, you can see that our laboratory facilities are second to none and we have a dedicated full-time staff of researchers and technicians at your disposal."
For a brief second, Ashley swore she spied a smile soften his cold features before the surly grimace returned to Walkers' face.
The tour continued without an incident as she highlighted the many sealed laboratories dotted around the floor and the ample office space dedicated to each of the science teams who worked there. Before long, Ashley approached an impressive set of cold grey security doors with a small retinal scanner fixed to the wall beside them. Turning, she once again began to chat to the silent Walkers.
"And here is where the facility descends into the highest security sector, which is where our head researcher Dietrich Van Oort will be escorting you around momentarily."
As if hearing her last sentence as his cue, the heavy doors hissed apart to reveal a short, balding man wearing a pristine lab coat and smart black shoes. He smiled at Ashley, revealing his coffee-stained teeth, before announcing: "It is a pleasure to have you here today mister Walkers, we have been anxiously waiting your arrival and prepared all the necessary personnel and equipment if you decide to relocate your project here."
He turned to Ashley as Walkers silently began to type on his PDA and said:
"Thank you again Ashley for this, do not worry about Sandra. I will tell her you did brilliantly."
With that, he began to escort Walkers into the deeper recesses of the facility as Ashley hurried back upstairs to receive her inevitable scolding from Sandra…
(-) (-) (-)
Across town, next to the glistening shores of Lake Mulholland, Michael Barnes struggled to stumble across the loose stones in his panic.
What has just happened to me? he thought as his thick hiking boots splashed in the icy water; turning back, he saw in the distance the wreckage of his once peaceful fishing retreat.
A trail of crimson blood was slowly being lapped up by the eager waves of the lake and he pushed his shredded jumper tightly onto his aching wound. His free hand desperately fumbled for his cellphone and quickly tried to dial 911. He raised the phone to his ear to hear the cold silence that announced he was out of service… no way to contact his wife… no way to contact for help.
In the distance, Michael could see the faint outline of Lakeview Parkway; if only he could get there, he might make it through this ordeal unscathed.
One of the many bushes that grew near the lake edge rustled and Michael knew that whatever had attacked him was going to finish him off… if he didn't run.
Limping heavily, Michael began a laboured sprint along the shoreline, cursing his decision to come fishing as a peaceful escape from the family. The memory of his wife and kids haunted him as he spluttered for air, continually feeling weaker and slower.
What will they do without me?
He called out wildly: "Help me! Anyone - can you hear me? Help me!"
In the midst of his panic, he failed to notice a lobster pot caught precariously amongst the seaweed and he collapsed awkwardly onto the hard pebbles. Winded, exhausted and bleeding, Michael tried desperately to shout out across the lake, urging anyone to just help him see his family one more time.
His pale, clammy hands desperately attempted to support his weight on the uneven rocks but, eventually, the pressure and panic caused his arms to collapse beneath him. Lying there with the gentle, cool water of the lake soaking into his blood-stained clothes, Michael realised that he wasn't ever going to make it home…