Chapter One: The Stranger and Allie's First Word

"Here comes the airplane! Open the hanger!" Claire's lips vibrated crazily, and Allie's eyes lit up as she opened her mouth wide. Her small, stubby hands clapped together happily as her lips smacked loudly. "Is that good?" Allie nodded her agreement.

Claire smiled at her toe-headed daughter, scooping out more of the mushed banana from the little jar. The phone began to ring. Sighing, Claire set the spoon in front of Allie, who promptly picked it up and flung the gooey food at her own face, eyes squeezing shut before she let out a high pitched giggle. Leaving her daughter thus occupied, Claire turned to the kitchen counter and answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Claire? Claire Redfield?" It was a man, a voice she wasn't familiar with, slightly accented with some foreign tongue. British?

"Yes, this is. Who is this?" Claire asked, glancing back at Allie still playing happily with the spoon and mush.

"What I'm going to tell you is important, Claire, so listen closely. Pack up your bags, and get out of your house. Don't ask me questions, there's little time. You're in danger, Claire. I can't tell you more on the phone, but I'll give you my number so that you can contact me when you're safe."

"Who is this?! What do you mean, I'm in danger?" Claire's mind raced, a bubble of panic welling in her chest.

"I'm doing this as a favor for an old friend. Just do as I'm telling you, Claire. It's what Wesker asked me to do. I've been watching, waiting; the suits up at Tri-Cell are after the Progenitor Virus, and without Wesker..."

"Wesker? What..." Claire stuttered out. She knew instantly what they were after, and no matter the source, Claire would never take a chance with her child's life. They were after Allie, after Wesker's "mimetic memory", as he had once said. Grabbing desperately for pen and paper, she asked, "What's the number?"

The stranger on the other line rattled off a number, before the line went dead. Placing the phone back on it's cradle, Claire turned around, her head reeling. And then she was moving, grabbing up Allie, and heading to the garage. Ever since she'd gotten back from Egypt, Claire had a bag packed for an emergency situation like this; years of hiding from Umbrella Corp. had ingrained the paranoia in her brain. Stuffing the bags into her trunk along with a tire iron, Claire buckled Allie into her car seat.

"Wide?" Allie bubbled out, her bright blue eyes twinkling as she looked at her mother.

"Yes, honey, we're going for a ride." Claire answered, her mind turning over where to go, who to call; and then Claire stopped, her hands frozen on the seat belt buckle. Allison Wesker Redfield had just spoken her very first word.

A sobbing laugh broke unbidden from Claire's mouth as she hastily finished tightening the seat belt, tugging it taut to make sure it was secure, before closing the door, and climbing into the driver's seat. Tears were coursing down Claire's cheeks, she'd known that this day was coming, knew that as long as Tri-Cell, and companies like it existed her and her daughter would be in constant danger. But no amount of knowing could prepare you for the moment when you were fighting for your very life. All the training in the world is useless if you froze in the moment. It was a fact she'd learned the hard way, long ago in that hell hole of a town where all this madness began over ten years ago.

Pulling herself together, she hit the button for the garage door, waited as it rose slowly. No cars, no flashing lights; Claire let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding as relief flooded her. She was headed out of town, any direction would do. Taking a right, Claire headed away from the place she'd called home for the last year; towards the highway. The gas gage registered at three quarters of a tank; and Claire planned to drive until almost on E. More gas, and she'd drive until she couldn't keep her eyes open. Hotel, motel; somewhere to lay low for a few days. She'd have to ditch the car; and she couldn't risk calling her brother or Leon; not yet, at least.

All these things, these little details, spun through her head. She might risk a call to Rebecca. Becky had quit this game years ago, making a decent living working for a hospital just outside of Lansing; head nurse (something which all of her friends cracked jokes about regularly). It would be a risk, but a minor one. Claire knew she'd have to ditch her cell phone soon; she'd pick up a cheap throw-away model somewhere before calling anyone. The sun was settling over the horizon, and she sighed, wishing not for the first time that none of this had ever happened...well, almost none of it.

Claire glanced at the sleeping form of Allie in her rear view mirror, and smiled. No, not everything would be changed if she could do it all over again. She felt a pang of sadness as she thought of Allie's father. If only her and Wesker had met in different circumstances, a totally different scenario; there were so many "if only" things in her life. What would that have been like, knowing him before all of this?

Shaking her head to clear all of the unwanted thoughts from her brain, Claire dialed Rebecca's number, and waited patiently as it rang...and rang....and rang some more. After what seemed like an eternity, the machine picked up.

"Hi!" Becky's voice stated cheerfully. "I'm not home right now, but if you leave your name and number, I'll get back with you as soon as I get back." A faint beep followed, and Claire took a breath, deciding whether or not to leave a message.

"It's Claire. Becky, I'm in trouble. I need you to call Chris for me, I've got to ditch this phone soon, and I can't tell you where I am. Allie's safe, I'm safe; just tell him that I'll call soon. Let him know not to go back to my place. I'm not home, and I'm not even sure where I am. I had to leave in a hurry. Well, I'll talk to you soon, and wish me luck." Claire hung up the phone. After a minute, she rolled the window down, and chucked it into the ditch line, watched it smash against a rock, kept driving.

Claire's brain raced, trying to formulate a plan. Nothing stuck out forthright. She couldn't go to Chris, Jill, Sheva, Leon, Barry, Becky; wracking her brain for any more contacts. Carlos, maybe, but she hated getting hit on every two seconds, and she wasn't even sure that he still lived in the states. Claire hadn't called him in a while. Running low on contacts, Claire thought of everyone she'd ever known. All of her ex boyfriends, all of her old college buddies; no one that she could contact.

And then it hit her.

Claire was alone in this. No one to save her this time. Tears clouded her vision, and she had to pull over as her silent sobs made it impossible to drive anymore.

After a while, her tears dried up, and Claire hit the road again, the gas tank already getting low.