Chapter 2

She trudged through the snow to the tent, under darkening skies and rushing winds. The storm was hitting, hard and fast. She considered turning around to warn the men to tie the tents down, but it seemed like miles to cross back through the frosty drifts when she was right in front of the medical tent. They'd have to figure it out themselves.

Damn storm. She tossed open the flap, making the three medics jump. The lanterns that hung from the ceiling rocked back and forth from the wind, sending deep gold light dancing through the air and made the shadows leap back and forth. One of them looked up at the roof, anxiously. It was the first time the tents were truly being tested, they were supposed to be built for it, but the sounds of squealing nylon and cables did little to boost ones confidence.

"O-oh it's you, Lupo." One of the medics, Smith, replied, "We're just setting up to look over the woman here."

Lupo boldly stepped forward, "Got an I.D. on her yet?"Not a woman, but a girl, wrapped up in the wool quilt they usually kept in the back of the snow vehicle for such emergencies. Her face was white, almost grey. With the poor lighting it was hard to judge her age and condition. Lupo studied her anyways— younger than she initially thought, and quite pretty. Long, frozen lashes fluttered over pale cheeks, gray plump lips. Once she warmed up, she'd be lovely.

"Not yet. But as soon as we do, you'll know." Keys replied, she was the lead medic, the most experienced of the group. A skeleton crew, none of them truly doctors but all trained in the basics of field medicine. "Alright, guys, let's unwrap her—but be careful. Something may be broken."

"God, she's cold." Jackson, the third medic, whispered. She brushed over the skin on her cheek with a gloved hand and gently flicked the ice crystals away from her eyes.

The team freed the poor girl from the wooly cocoon. Blood soaked through the tattered remains of her jacket, her clothes practically non-existent, torn to ribbons and stiff from the icy air. "Yes, she may be suffering from hypothermia. Hopefully it won't turn out to be phenomena." Doctor Keys replied

"Search 'er pockets, burn 'er clothes." Lupo ordered, watching them work, "There's no telling what she came in contact with out there."

"You're acting like you're expecting something, Lupo." Jackson replied, shaking her hair out of her face, "Is there something we need to be aware of?" She glanced at the tiny body on the gurney nervously.

"We'll search her, Lupo. But any injuries need to be treated first…She's hurt bad and she doesn't seem to have a extra set of clothes, would you care to lend her some?" Keys asked as she glared. She didn't appreciate anyone hovering over shoulder—especially not when the patient she worked on was gravely injured, and needed her full attention.

"We don't know where she came from." Lupo hissed, "You know the nature of this. Put her in a gown, she won't be leaving tonight anyway. I'll find something for 'er until then."

"That's true. Alright then, I'll be expecting you in a few hours then." Keys replied as she went back to work. Smith draped a paper sheet over her body while they begun to examine her. It wasn't very warm, but her mental health was just as important as her physical health. Making her feel safe was going to be half the battle, there was no telling what she'd endured.

"No. I think i'd like to stay." Lupo replied, sitting down and folding her arms over her chest for warmth. She was the only one in the medical tent armed, after all. She couldn't afford to leave her medics without a weapon. She doubted the girl was infected, but every precaution had to be taken. In the U.S.S., Lupo had seen the downside of not being careful. Maybe that was why she left as well, to get away from the death.

She couldn't keep killing. Being asked to kidnap Sherry in Raccoon City had been too much, especially with children of her own. She, Vector and Bertha had been the only ones left alive at that point, and they all parted ways, refusing to risk their necks against a heavily armed cop for little more than a wish for extraction. Maybe it was fate she and Coen teamed up to escape the city, and ended up getting started on their own ideas. A year already.

"She's young. I'd say...maybe twenty." Smith stated, looking over the young woman on the gurney. He grabbed a clip board with a few important papers on it and began to write things down. Lupo watched them hustle about, Keys was shouting at the girl over and over, trying to get some response out of her, but she seemed to be too far gone to respond.

"Yes, poor thing. Jackson please warm up some warm towels in the basin so we can try to get her body temperature back to normal." Keys ordered, "Can you hear me?" She raised her voice again, forcing open her eyelids and shining a small light into her eyes, "Can you talk to me?" Again, she was met with only silence.

"Pockets are torn off her pants..." Jackson observed, pulling away to throw towels in a basin and put them in the microwave. "I wonder if she was robbed."

"Out 'ere?" Lupo spoke up, "Who would rob 'er out 'ere?"

"And the bottom part of her shirt as well." Smith noted. "It appears..." He trailed off.

"Like she was clawed by something." Keys said, judging by three deep bloody gashes on her stomach. She pressed one of the towel's to her abdomen, pressing down to stint the bleeding.

"You 'ave my attention." Lupo said, nearly bolting upright, and hurrying to the table. Keys pulled the towel away momentarily to show her superior the injury.

"I don't know what that is…they're too neat for any B.O.W. I've seen."

"They're almost surgical." Keys added.

Typical B.O.W. attacks had ripped flesh and much worse damage, these three clean wounds were not typical of any of the monsters with which she had experience. Lupo's voice softened, "Ma pauvre chère...What's on 'er neck?"

Keys found a large, deep red blistered area on the left on her neck. After assessing what it may be she replied, "It seems to be a large bruise, it's not a normal one. Looks as if she was burned by something." Lupo shook her head, poor girl. She touched her arm with a gloved hand while Jackson packed her in the warm towels and Keys worked on the wounds.

Smith picked up the bloody, torn clothes and moved them aside, though, something metallic fell to the ground.

"She has bruises on her leg...It seems like she wore a holster too tight. Either that or someone ripped the thing off her. I've never seen this happen before." The pattern was clear across her pale skin.

Lupo turned toward Smith who held something in his hands. A silver necklace.

"Hmm… what do we have here?" He picked up a set of dog tags. Looking closer under the light, his brow furrowed.

"What's 'er name?"

"Isn't Billy's last name Coen?" He asked.

"William Coen, yes." Lupo practically ripped the article from his hand and held it under the light. She was silent for a moment, before slinging the dog tags around her own neck, "That bastard." She mumbled, though, it was difficult to read if she was upset, angry, or shocked. Maybe a mix of the three.

"Coen knows this girl." Lupo said, quietly, "Why does he know this girl?"

"Go ask him yourself. But don't let him come in here. We're still working on her." Smith said as he continued making notes.

"I don't know." Jackson replied, "I...Better yet what..." She trailed off again, cleaning dry blood and dirt off of her face with one of the warm towels.

Lupo collapsed into the chair and exhaled, "No...no..

"Lupo, what's wrong?" Asked Keys, she cut a piece of thread, finishing the first stitch in one of the wounds, "Smith…Start checking her arms and legs for me. See if you can feel any fractures, I'm pretty sure we have broken ribs already." Snip, another stitch in. They were messy, but she had to move fast. The girl had already lost a lot of blood.

She pushed her hair back and let out a coughing fit, "I can't go out there and tell 'im this...not until...we know." Lupo did not know medicine, but she knew enough that if she were to stroll out and tell Billy she'd be okay, she'd be lying.

"Okay…I understand. If he does really know, his reaction would be critical." Smith passed his gloved hands over her arm shoulders, and then down each arm, feeling for any swelling or abnormal heat. Her right wrist seemed to be stiff, he noted, and moved to her legs; quickly finding what seemed to be another area of swelling. Seems like a fracture in her fibula, but without x-rays we're shooting in the dark.

"Yes. It would be." She replied, " How's she doing, Keys?"

"Her body temperature is climbing, it's amazing she is not dead." Keys said, "She's a tough little thing." Jackson continued to re-heat the towels, running back and forth from the microwave, "Keep going, Jackson, you're doing great."

Keys snipped off another stitch, and then another. "She also has split knuckles. Its seems to me she was in a fight."

"She fought off her attacker." Jackson said, placing another warmed towel over her, "Or...at least she tried. Then she somehow managed to get dragged all of the way out here. She fought hard." Her knuckles were split to the point where there was no skin left, her palms nearly as bad. Defensive wounds.

"Yeah." Smith agreed. "But what attacked her?" He shivered thinking about it. "I think her wrist is sprained, and her right leg may be broken. I'll make a splint."

"Can we set it?" Lupo asked, "Or is it too bad?"

"It's hard to say." He replied, "I doesn't seem too bad, but we don't have x-rays." While Jackson and Smith worked on her, Lupo pulled Keys aside, "Is she going to be okay?"

She had to have an answer to give Coen when he asked the same question, not matter how brutally honest it was.