Ugh, I'm so sorry! I had this chapter finished when I posted the last one! My exams are almost over, then I should be able to devote more time to writing, I swear. I blame my internet connection!
Diamond King Hey! I'm glad you like my other story, now I'll love you always!!! XP I had until this chapter to link it with Brideswell, but no. Jill was my turning point- I couldn't fit her virused state into this story. But who knows, I'll possibly write a stand alone sequel to it eventually. Yeah, by chapter five things should be clear.
Zarbok- thanks! I hope you're enjoying this story so far.
The unknown reviewer- thank you for reviewing!
Okay, this story is set in New Zealand because I wanted to try using a real setting. But trust me, I can weave the setting into the story plot-line easily. Just remember, we drive on the left side of the road. If things don't begin to clear up from now on out, tell me in a review or email and I will try to remedy things.
Chapter Three:
The first thing I noticed was that the inside of the farmhouse was cooler than the outside air. I had to wait before I could notice anything else; it took a while for my eyes to adjust to the sudden change in light, and so I stood there blinking oafishly, listening.
There wasn't much to hear. It seemed whoever had been there to get Chris's warning shout had gone into hiding. It was like being in a horror movie, except that I was the one creeping about.
I took a step further into the heart of the house. The floors were wood, the walls wooden panels. I felt like I had entered some sort of upper-class log cabin. But the house was comfortable- as are most of the old renovated farmhouses.
Where did Claire disappear off to?
I hadn't been that far behind her, had I?
I took another few steps, cringing as my shoes scuffed against the polished surface. There were paintings of country scenes on the walls, hanging in gilded frames. It was a beautifully kept house. The smell of summer grasses was thick in the air.
Lucky I don't have hay fever.
I rounded the corner into an empty corridor with stairs at one end, the type with a banister fencing them off at the top. A few seconds later and a step groaned as it was subjected to my weight.
The upstairs wasn't wooden. It had breezy cream walls, with dusky red carpet. It was much more lived in. I guess this place doubled for a home and headquarters. Gone were the landscapes on the walls, replaced by small coffee tables with lively pot plants and photographs.
I walked through the open door to my right, listening to the unnatural stillness. Unnatural- like someone was trying to be quiet; making the place quieter than it would be if it was empty. Maybe that's hard to comprehend, but that's what it was like. After all, I'm so psychic.
When I was in the middle of the bedroom, I turned back towards the door. A woman, who I would guess was in her twenties, was standing behind the open door. She wasn't armed, but she didn't look worried.
Well, I wasn't armed either. And I guess I didn't look like I presented much of a threat.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Amanda Stevenson." The lie came easily to me, as it had so many times before.
"Claire got you okay?"
I didn't bother to reply.
"I'm Jill. I don't know exactly what's going on at the moment, but I do know that one of our worst enemies is here with us. Be careful, he won't hesitate to kill you, even though you aren't one of us."
"I don't know what's going on either," I said. "But Wesker said he wanted to talk to somebody called 'Williams'."
She looked at me oddly. "How do you know Wesker's name?"
I hadn't expected that. I thought she would have been distracted by the message. Well, let's be truthful, I hadn't even thought. Another slip up. That made it two today. I hoped there wouldn't be a third.
"I heard it from the Redfield pair."
That seemed to go. "Well, I don't know if Wesker wants to talk to Williams or not, but either way we have to get out of here. Even if no one is hurt this time round, if HCF knows where we are, HCF will get rid of us later."
She turned and exited the room. I followed her with admiration. This Jill was pretty clued up. Together, we checked the top floor. It was completely devoid of people, but Jill took a bag and pushed some files into it.
As we were going quietly and slowly down the stairs, I asked in a whisper, "Where are we going to go?"
"Anywhere seems good at the moment. Better go bush for a day or two, and see if we can find any of the others. I can't believe we didn't have an emergency plan for this sort of thing!"
She said 'thing' louder than the rest of the sentence, accenting it by grabbing onto my upper arm. I peered around her slender frame and saw why.
Can that man have any worse timing?
Wesker didn't waste any time. "Where is Mr. Williams?"
"He's not here," Jill hissed.
"You're lying. Where is he?"
"Albert Wethker! Tho good to thee you."
I looked in the direction of the new lisping voice. It belonged to a grey haired gentleman wearing a tan suit, probably about fifty years old, who had the look of a disreputable, charitable aristocrat- you know the type, only helping an animal rights cause as a hobby while wearing mink to outings and owning several pens of battery hens.
"Ah, Mr. Williams. I was wondering where you had got to."
Williams waved a pale hand dismissively. "Thingth hold uth up, but here we are now. Letth get down to buithneth."
I mentally inserted 's's into the sentence.
"Certainly," Wesker replied, "Where should we go?"
"Jutht in here will be fine," said Williams, gesturing to a pair of wooden double doors. "Thould I call the retht of the group?"
"If you think it would be beneficial."
"Mith Valentine! Go gather the otherth, if you would be tho kind."
The woman left stiffly. I could feel confusion and resentment radiating off her, and yet she obeyed. If I had been in her position, I would've refused. But I guess she had a lot more faith in the man than I did.
"And you mutht be Amanda," Williams said, offering me a hand to shake, "I'm Jonathon Williamth."
I took it, mumbling a "pleased to meet you." His hand was uncannily cold, like he lived in a morgue. I let it go quickly, and hunched my shoulders awkwardly.
"Well, into the lounge, everyone."
I followed Wesker and Williams hesitantly. The room –yes, still wooden walls and floors- had several plush white leather couches and armchairs. I perched on the edge of one, still feeling out of place. The men ignored my presence completely, and seemed much more at home.
And I still don't know what the hell is going on. Why is everyone so... so... tense? So trusting and distrustful? Something big must be happening... Why am I here?
Far off sounds of footsteps and disgruntled murmurs became less far-off. The double doors were pushed open by Jill. With her were the Redfields and a man I didn't know. None of them looked particularly happy about being there. All were armed.
The new man regarded me with the same deep suspicion as Chris and Claire, and now Jill. I guess they had been talking about me one the way. But most of their attention was saved for Doctor Wesker- I was just a side-dish of HCF.
"Pleathe, take a theat," Williams said. Well, even though it sounded like a suggestion it was unmistakeably an order. The newcomers sat, and glowered.
"Now, all of you know Wethker. He'th come at my behetht to-"
"What?" Chris exploded. "You asked him to come here? Now HCF will know all about us!"
"Chrith," replied Williams blithely, "HCF hath alwayth known about uth. It'th the one paying AVO'th thalary."
AVO? Of course, Anti-Viral Organization. Extremely original. But HCF was funding it? How did THAT one work? I really should've read those files, and then I might know what all of this is about.
The AVO's looked at their leader dumbfounded. I could see the protests going through their minds- in fact, they were going through mine too. Only it didn't really affect me.
"Mr. Williams received orders from HCF," Wesker took over. His voice was crisp and authoritative. "These orders were to find a girl going by the name 'Amanda Stevenson', and to acquire the files in her possession. You have done half of that order. I had to step in when I saw Umbrella prepared to attack at the hospital."
"Why does everyone care about these files so much?" Jill asked, evidently shelving her distrust and hatred. "What's in them?"
"The fileth are the property of Umbrella. The information ith... clathified, but very important."
"You sold us out," Chris growled. "We were supposed to be working against all viral agencies. And all the time, we were working for one of them."
"Technically HCF isn't a viral company," I piped up. Four pairs of eyes turned to look at me. "It's a-" A pair of shades turned to look at me. I shut up.
Wesker smirked, and turned back round. I decided that biting my tongue for the rest of the meeting would be a good course of action.
"So what's going to happen now?" Jill asked. She was obviously the most well-controlled of the group. Chris was highly peeved, and Claire and the other man were too angry to really speak.
I tried to imagine what it was like to find out you were working for your hated enemy- an enemy that had killed your friends, workmates, family, town. It is impossible, unless you've been there.
"Now? We're jutht going to go on like we alwayth have," Williams said. "Following the orderth given to uth, only now you know who they are from."
"And if we refuse to follow those orders?"
"Then, Chris, you will have to answer to HCF's representative, who at this time happens to be... me." Wesker smiled. There was no humour in it.
The four who had been misled up until now didn't look at all cheered by this news. Not that I could blame them.
"Do you have the fileth?" Williams asked me.
I looked at him, thinking him touched in the head. I had been at the hospital! In really casual clothes! "No."
"Where are they?"
"They're at a school."
"A thchool? Anyone could find them!"
"Why would you search for top secret files belonging to an agency like Umbrella at a high school?" I countered sourly. I had a strong impression that I wouldn't be getting out of this mess for a long time.
So what is this mess? HCF runs this little AVO agency. I stole files from Umbrella. Both HCF and Umbrella want them. And HCF has me. I KNEW I should've read all of the damn files! But anyway... I doubt Wesker will be letting me vanish again.
"Good point."
"I have a question," Claire said suddenly, "who are you, really?"
Wesker answered for me, with a general air of irritation. I didn't know if I should be grateful to him or not. "As I have already covered, her alias is Amanda Stevenson and her real name is Ruth. She's been working for HCF for about four years now, including training, until she strangely and suddenly disappeared a week ago."
That still didn't tell them anything new.
"Ruth?" Jill asked. "Ruth who?"
Wesker glanced at me, signifying wordlessly that I could answer this one.
"I don't use a surname," I said evenly. I know what people think when they hear that- that I'm an orphan, never knowing who my real parents are. It's not true. I know who my parents are, but I can't bring myself to use their name anymore. I don't know what's so weird; people like Wesker deny all knowledge of their first names. Then again, I would too if I was called 'Albert'.
They stared at me for a second, before turning back to Williams and Wesker.
"You know," the one man whose name I didn't know said, "this is the second time I've had a boss betray us while secretly working for a viral company."
"Seems to be a trend, doesn't it?" Wesker goaded.
At the same time Williams began, "Barry, I haven't betrayed you. I haven't gotten you into trouble, or harmed you in any way. I jutht haven't told you who the orderth came from becauthe I knew you would react thith way!"
"That is betrayal," the man, Barry, spat back.
"HCF doesn't have time for this," said Wesker boredly. "Take Ruth to find those files before Umbrella gets their hands on them or bored math teachers play hangman on the back of them."
"Why would we do that for you?" Chris hissed.
"Because otherwise I will have to do it myself, which would make you useless dead-weight. And HCF has a way of getting rid of dead-weight. Williams and I still have much to discuss. On your way."
They got up slowly.
Bugger this, I thought, it's my one chance to get out of here with my skin intact. And I'll be buggered if I'll do HCF's work for them again.
The keys rattled comfortingly in my pocket. Using all my self restraint, I nodded at Wesker and Williams, walked calmly out of the room and down the corridor. When I was certain they couldn't hear me- well, maybe Wesker could still hear me, but I didn't think of that at the time- I made a mad dash that was hindered (but only slightly, now) by the stitches, a give-all-take-all sprint to the jeep.
Chris overtook me, running to the jeep's left-hand side and jumping in. I continued unfazed to the right side.
"Damn," he said quietly, staring at the complete absence of steering wheel, "I keep forgetting this country drives on the other side."
I slipped the key into the ignition. The engine started almost automatically, smooth as an HCF agent's lie. I saw the other three AVO's running towards the jeep, and tried to hide my disappointment.
For a moment there, I really thought I would be able to steal the jeep and 'disappear' again. I'd have to keep my eye out for the next opportunity.
I waited until the last person- Claire- was sitting in the backseat. Then I took off, like the hounds of hell were at the tow bar.
"You can drive?"
"I'm over fifteen."
Chris looked confused. "What sort of answer is that?"
"Officer Redfield," came a deep voice behind me with hints of sarcasm, "here you can drive if you're fifteen."
Chris blanched visibly as I almost swiped a parked car on his side. "I think that's very irresponsible."
"Naw," I replied noncommittally, "I'm just a bad driver. Five years later and I still can't drive."
"Hang on," Claire said, suspicions hidden for now, "you're twenty? Jeez! I thought you were, uh... twelve?"
"Ha ha," I grumbled, steering the jeep through the gate and into Spencer Park. People always thought I was younger than I was. It could get very humiliating.
"Uh, do you think it would be better if I drove?" Jill volunteered, almost hugging her backpack. "Not that I doubt your ability or anything, but..." she trailed off, understandably. She, of course, did doubt my ability.
"No, I'm good thanks," I replied, being a jerk. "Besides, I'm the only one who knows where we're going."
"Would you care to share that information?"
"Not really, no."
It pays to be indispensable.
They didn't like that answer. I can't say I blamed them- it must've been like Wesker was driving them somewhere all over again. But I wanted to have some control for once. And I still didn't trust them, probably because they didn't trust me.
"What were you saying before?" Jill asked, masking her curiosity. "About HCF not really being a viral company?"
We pulled onto the highway and I accelerated to fit the speed limit.
"Well, I don't know if I should tell you..." I thought of Wesker, "but to hell with it. It's a fitness organization."
"Fitness? Like, a gym?"
"Haven't you ever heard of Harold Corwin Fitness?"
"No," Jill replied.
"I have," Claire piped up. "But only since we came here. In America there wasn't any Harold Corwin, just HCF. Must be a New Zealand strain."
"That seems ludicrous," Barry objected. "Why would a fitness company be interested with bio-weaponry?"
"That I couldn't tell you. But it's clever- no one can associate Harold Corwin with HCF, especially because there isn't any Harold Corwin Fitness in countries where there is HCF. They've covered their tracks. The work they do is HCF's, but they are employed by Corwin."
Jill said, "That is clever. No one will click. No one will try to find out. But if someone does, it will find that HCF doesn't really exist as a company."
"They'll find it does after a lot of digging," I corrected, "but HCF is banking on no one finding out."
"This is very confusing," Chris muttered.
Yeah. It took me a couple of hours to understand their reasoning. I guess our minds just don't work the same way as mad scientists. Maybe that's a good thing?
"Okay," I said, trying to remember how I got my head around it the first time. "In America, there is HCF, but no Harold Corwin Fitness. You with me so far?"
"Yeah."
"And in New Zealand, there is no HCF, but there is Harold Corwin Fitness."
"Okay."
"So no-one in America knows Harold Corwin Fitness exists, and in New Zealand, no one knows HCF exists."
"So no one can track them down? No one even thinks to..." said Chris. "And if something went wrong in New Zealand... a small island country, far away from major countries with poor armed forces and little public interest in the government... easily contained. The some reasons why Umbrella came here... why we had to follow to try and find out what they were up to...."
The road was busy, by Spencerville standards. That is to say, there were only about three cars. We traveled through the marshlands in a tense silence. The others stared out the windows at the grasses and water, lost in their own thoughts.
I had to focus on driving. My driving isn't that bad, but I didn't want to end up explaining how I managed to hit one car on an almost empty road.
It was Tuesday, about ten thirty in the morning. Too much has happened for a Tuesday morning. It meant the school would be open. I wondered if my arrival would cause too much of a stir. Probably not. It would be the AVO's that would be the problem.
"You're sure the files are safe?" Barry asked gruffly.
"Yeah. No one would go to the trouble of finding them. At least, I don't think they would. They have only been there for a week."
"What's in them?"
"I don't know. I never read them. I was planning to, but I was going to sell them to group in America and use the money to build myself a fortress away from all this insanity. Although, if it's spread into countries as remote as this, I doubt there's anywhere that's uninfected by Umbrella and HCF."
"So you have no idea what we're getting?"
"I know some of them are personnel files," I said defensively. "But I was more worried about stashing them before someone found them... and pinned it on me."
"How do you think Umbrella and HCF knew it was you who took the files?"
What is this, twenty questions? Talking to Barry was like being interrogated.
"I don't know."
"You don't know much, do you?" Claire commented.
I shrugged uncomfortably, trying to ignore the scathing comment. She was right, I didn't know much, but I knew a damn lot more than she did. I had spent four years with HCF, what had she done?
Jill cut in quickly. I saw her glance at me cautiously in the rear view mirror. "Let's talk about everything when we've got these files, kay? We can find somewhere out of the way to sit down and talk. It'll be much more comfortable, that's for sure."
She is clued-up! Who knows what might happen if you offend an already reckless driver, anyway? I guess she's the reason AVO made it this far... the others can't seem to control their emotions.
I nodded curtly. "We'll be at the school soon."
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