Resident Evil: Tangled Web
By: PhantasmBabeIvory
Chapter Three
Past Elliott's departure, Claire took the time to finish her coffee. However, she did write his name down on a slip of paper dug from her purse before she forgot. By the time she made it out to the parking lot, there was no sign of him.
When she arrived back at her one-bedroom apartment after six, Claire made it a point to place the paper bearing Elliott's name on the desk next to her laptop. With that accomplished, she set down her purse, mail, and the baby gift she had purchased. She was in the process of removing her gloves and vest when a mewling creature began attacking her left leg. She looked down with a start, taking in the sight of the ebony silver Ocicat she'd adopted some time ago. She was surprised to see him inexplicably pawing at her jeans and crying.
Claire kneeled down and extended her hand. Her cat responded by butting his head against her palm, clearly wanting to be petted. She obliged for a few seconds, only to be surprised when he started mewling again when she stopped. She scolded him, "Don't be so demanding, Tyrant."
She made her way towards the kitchen, ignoring Tyrant's continued whining. In spite of his name, he was normally a very docile feline. She couldn't imagine what had gotten into him.
After she started a pot boiling, she busied herself with replenishing Tyrant's food and water. This, fortunately, put an end to his mewling as he swiftly began chowing down. Past that, she turned her attention to preparing angel hair pasta with mushrooms and Alfredo sauce for herself. Once she had a bowl put together, she went to sit at the desk. In between bites, she looked through her mail, hoping from a letter from one of the three people who wrote to her on a regular basis. There was nothing but bills.
She idly tapped the slip with Elliott's name, debating whether or not to conduct an online search. Tyrant jumped onto her lap while she was thinking about this, causing her to gasp. She looked down at him as he quickly made himself comfortable and curled up against her. The fact that he was no longer crying or behaving oddly relaxed her somewhat. She wondered if he'd simply been hungry or thirsty.
Claire sighed, idly scratching a spot behind Tyrant's ear and allowing his purring to soothe her. Then, before she could change her mind, she pulled up a search engine on her laptop and hurriedly typing in Elliott's name. She quickly scanned the entries that popped up, bypassing the ones with headlines suggesting a movie review. The seventh link, entitled 'Odds and Ends', dated four days ago, sounded like what she was looking for. She clicked on it and settled back in her chair to read.
11/24/2006 – I can honestly say that today has given me one of the most interesting sights I've ever seen. I had just exited the house when I saw a blue jay perched on the hood of my car. At least, that was my first impression. It spread its wings upon seeing me, but flying away wasn't an option. Not sure how it happened, but somehow, the bird's foot got trapped in the seam by the hood. I watched its futile attempts to get away before taking pity and trying to free it by hand. The problem with this is that the poor blue jay was getting more frantic when my hands got close. I stopped, worried it would injure itself. I spent a minute trying to figure this out before coming up with an alternative. I'm happy to report that popping the hood was all it took to safely set the little bird free.
Additionally, while I was at line at the grocery, I happened to overhear something quite amusing from the elderly couple checking out ahead of me. The cashier had to check the husband's driver's license for some reason or other. Upon handing it back, the cashier, presumably going by the date of birth, wished him a happy birthday. The wife questioned the cashier why she said this, and the husband responded by saying his birthday was tomorrow. The wife's reaction – "It is?" – was priceless.
Claire had to laugh at the second one, seeing what Elliott meant by entertaining people. She was quick to access the archives for additional entries from him. She loved the way he worded these anecdotes and how he turned mundane events into sources of humor. Deciding that she'd had her fill after reading ten pages, she typed in a quick signed comment praising his work, bookmarked the site, and switched over to her email account.
What she wasn't expecting was to find seven emails from Terra Save's events coordinator, nearly all of them marked urgent. Claire could do nothing but stare at them a moment, wondering what the problem could possibly be. The only event on their calender was a banquet fundraiser scheduled three days from now. As far as she was aware, there was nothing that would warrant this many frantic emails.
Claire composed herself, then opened the first one. She gained an instant understanding as she read. The pharmaceutical company, Tricell, who'd helped sponsor this event, was now interested in getting directly involved. According to the email, the events coordinator had received word that the new CEO of Tricell's African branch was intending to attend the banquet, accompanied by two bodyguards.
She quickly skimmed through the remaining emails. The gist of it was that the coordinator was in a panic on how to turn the banquet into a more elegant affair on such short notice. To put it simply, 'barbequed meals and the ranch-style hall that they'd booked suddenly didn't feel classy enough.' Claire laid her hands flat on the desk, letting out a deep breath to help herself focus. The coordinator had a tendency to be high strung. It was very possible that he was blowing this out of proportion.
It didn't take her long to compose a reply asking if the female CEO, Excella Gionne, was expecting anything fancy. After sending the return email, Claire leaned back in her seat. She wondered if the coordinator was making such an assumption based on how exotic Excella's name was. Assuming that it may take a while to get a reply, she got up to rinse the bowl in the sink. Afterwards, she turned her attention to the DVD rentals that she'd picked up the day before. It took her a moment to decide that she'd prefer the romantic comedy over the thriller. After popping the disc into the player and starting it up, she made herself comfortable on the black chaise lounge at the center of the room.
The film turned out to be a poor selection. It was boring enough to lull her to sleep until the late nighttime hours. If not for the repetitive music on the DVD menu, she might not have been roused as soon as she was. She yawned and stretched, reaching for the controller to turn off the TV and player.
Rubbing at the back of her neck, Claire got to her feet. Blinking sleepiness from her eyes, she went back to her laptop, refreshing the website to see if there were any new emails. Seeing that there were five new messages, she pulled up her inbox. Two were from the coordinator, and she started with those. The second email was the most relevant. He stated that he'd spoken with Excella's secretary. While the CEO was okay with the venue location, the menu would have to be tweaked a little. Excella's tastes ran more on the expensive side.
Claire couldn't help but be bothered by this. Excella must be quite a vain person if she refused to consent to the pre-planned meal. Giving a sigh, Claire sent a return email that they'd see about accommodating the unexpected guest, starting tomorrow. She then returned to her inbox, checking the remaining new emails. One was from a friend, but she decided to hold off on reading it. The second, given the heading, was just junk mail; she automatically deleted that one.
The heading for the third one caused her to pause, once she fully focused on it. The fact that it bore the subject line, Reach for the S.T.A.R.S., was enough to get her attention and get under her skin. She moved the cursor over the subject line to pull up an email address she didn't recognize. RogueChild at RaccoonCity dot com. (note to readers - had to type the email addy this way because it kept getting deleted otherwise.)
Claire almost didn't want to click on it, if only for the fact that it bore two references to better days. S.T.A.R.S. was an acronym for a paramilitary unit that her brother and Jill had once been a part of. Both the unit and Raccoon City were nothing but memories these days, thanks in large part to Umbrella. She lightly tapped the left mouse button with her finger, but not hard enough to actually open the email. She couldn't imagine Chris or Jill, or anyone else aware of Claire's connection to things dead and buried, would use an unknown email account to contact her.
She was nevertheless curious to know who would go to the trouble to get her attention, if not anyone she knew and trusted. That was the only reason that she opened the message.
In spite of the heading, the actual message was very obscure. Keep track of your phone, and nothing bad will happen. Signed, a friend.
Claire burst out laughing after a moment, certain that this had to be a joke. Without a second thought, she hit the reply button. She quickly typed in a single question: Mind clarifying? After sending it, she leaned back in her chair, yawning once more. She was about to shut off the laptop when a ding sounded from the computer. She leaned forward, eyeing the new message that had popped up on the screen. "Undeliverable. Email address doesn't exist," she whispered aloud in confusion.
She pondered this a moment. She would have written it off as a prank if not for the references to her past. It still begged the question why someone would send her such an email and then make themselves unable to contact. After another second, Claire printed a copy of the email.
She would have called her brother right now to have him run a trace on who sent this, but wasn't sure if she'd actually get ahold of him. She wasn't aware of Chris' schedule or if and when he may be out in the field. That was why they'd made arrangements for him to contact her from time to time.
With a sigh, she finally shut down the computer and retreated to the bedroom. Too weary to worry about undressing, she simply kicked off her shoes and flopped down on the mattress. She was scarcely aware of Tyrant leaping onto the bed and curling up next to her before she surrendered to the land of dreams.