Chapter Six: Faith and Money
Sprawled and lying motionless on the floor, Leon began to stir from his unexpected slumber, and realizing that every muscle in his body ached from the fracas with the lake creature. Reluctantly, he sat up, very much disoriented and dazed, and horribly fatigued.
Ohhh…where am I? What time is it? What the hell happened?
As he looked around the shack, he realized that his eyesight was still blurred, and he wasn't awake yet. Rubbing the back of his head, he opened his mouth wide in a yawn and stretched as if he'd just woken up from deep sleep.
A violent spasm in his chest jolted him out of his stretch, immediately tightening up his airways, and suddenly he was gagging, coughing and gasping for air all over again as a tightening pain gripped his entire body.
NO! NOT AGAIN! Please, God, not again…!
His teeth gritted, he managed to get to his feet, withstanding the pain as it tore through his muscular body. His skin felt as if it was crawling as the blood pounded through his veins, his heartbeat drumming fast, the sound seeming to amplify about a thousand times so that it became a deafening roar as he writhed and twisted his body. Suddenly, to his complete and total horror, he looked down at his exposed arms and saw the veins and arteries bulging out of them, crawling down the length of them as red and black streaked across his body like a road map.
What's this?!
Filled with flowing liquid and looking ready to burst, he could feel the bursting vessels creeping all over his body, over his face as he began to transform into something horrible, something completely non-human. He screamed as the unknown presence covered him, enveloped him, claiming his body, a loud, terrified scream of agony—
--and he woke up startled, gasping, immediately sitting up and looking at his arms, relieved to see that nothing was bulging out, he wasn't experiencing horrible spasms. He sat on the floor, his eyes staring into darkness.
Oh, thank god…I'm ok. I'll be alright…just need a minute…
He rose to his feet, his tired and aching body protesting the action. His stomach growled—he hadn't eaten in a long time, he remembered.
Just how long was I out for?
A steady rain was falling outside, he noticed. Nighttime indeed had fallen while Leon was out. A crack of lightning cut through the black sky, briefly illuminating the small house before it was followed by a loud clap of thunder booming across the land. He patted himself down, making sure he still had everything. Twice now he was rendered unconscious, and the last time he was, he lost his jacket somewhere in transition. The leather straps that slung across his torso and upper back were still there, along with the handgun that was holstered, and his knife, still sheathed, clasped to the strap. All of his extra ammunition pouches were still on his belt, and he found himself relieved that his remaining ammunition was there.
He also noticed, much to his delight, that he was dry. His tactical-style uniform was made of special fabrics that allowed for quick drying—the material was built to stand the elements. Meant for law enforcement, they were designed to take abuse. The pants contained many pockets, some of them well hidden to the naked eye. He reached into one such pocket and pulled out a miniature flashlight. He turned it on and attached it to the leather strap. He found himself inside a small house rather than a shack like he originally anticipated. He had collapsed next to a table with two chairs. Along the far wall was a wood-burning stove in fairly decent condition. Some assorted cabinetry and shelving lined the walls, although they were falling into disrepair. A twin bed stood opposite Leon, the white sheets stained with dirt and possibly blood. On the table, he noticed, was a sheet of paper. Next to the paper was a box of handgun bullets and two blue flashbang grenades—Leon recognized them immediately from his training at the Academy. Flashbangs were grenades that--rather than a normal grenade which explodes and sends shrapnel everywhere, these grenades, upon explosion, released a very bright white light which blinds the person for five or so seconds, because the eye can't take such a bright light. He took the grenades and clipped them to his belt, and noticed that whoever wrote it seemed to be in a hurry, as if he or she was being pressed for time or possibly pursued. Regardless, it was legible, and so he read:
There's an important item hidden in the falls. If you are able to get it, you might be able to get the President's daughter out of the church. However, the path back to the church isn't a walk in the park by any means. By the time you read this, it will be dark—that is when the Plagas come out: nasty creatures that burst out from their human hosts. I've discovered that they are extremely sensitive to light once they're exposed, and may come in handy. I also left you some handgun ammo—I swiped them from somewhere. You may find the extra ammunition useful. About what's been going on in your body…
If I could help you, I would.
But unfortunately it's beyond my power.
He put the note down, his mind thinking.
So they DID inject me with something…fucking assholes! God damn it…and those spasms, and coughing up blood…that's probably related too. Who was here? Luis? Was he here when I was passed out? God, none of this makes sense…I better move on...the quicker we get out of here, the better. I'm gonna have a long chat with the leader of this crazy cult.
His radio beeped loudly, most likely Hunnigan trying to get a hold of him, probably worried sick. Removing the radio from the holster, he flipped it open and sure enough, it was her, clearly annoyed.
"Leon!" she exclaimed, a note of relief in her voice. "It's been six hours since our last transmission—I was starting to get worried."
Damn, I was out that long?
"Don't you mean lonely?" Leon replied, attempting a joke. She hardly looked in the mood for humor. "Anyway, I started to feel dizzy, then I guess I must have lost consciousness."
Her facial expression changed to one of slight worry. "Lost consciousness? Maybe it has some connection to what the village chief was talking about…" her voice trailed off in thought.
"Can't say for certain," Leon added. "But I'm okay now. I'm going to continue the mission. Leon out."
He put the radio back in its case, then proceeded to check and make sure his firearms were loaded and ready. He took the box of ammunition, opening it to find three more clips.
Thank you, whoever you are. I certainly needed it.
He put the clips into his ammo pouch, and in doing so, his stomach growled, a low audible rumble. It had been six hours, so his body was in need of something. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out another energy bar and wolfed it down quickly. With that out of the way, he began to plan his next course of action. Most likely there was a path to the falls, as implied by whoever had written that letter. With nothing else left to do, he opened the door and was greeted by a pouring rain and a very dark, overcast sky. The ground was saturated with water and turned the path muddy in spots. To his left, a series of lit torches illuminated the way, set by the villagers or by something else. Perhaps the person who wrote Leon that letter knew about these and lit them. They cast a warm orange light with their flames, and he began to walk up the path as heavy, cold drops of water pelted him.
The path ventured deeper into woods, and through a gate. When he walked through the gateway, he was surrounded in darkness, no more lit torches to guide the way. With his bright flashlight, he found himself along a narrow pathway. Further up, he could hear the sounds of rushing water ahead in the distance, probably a few hundred yards from his current position. Breaking out into a jog, he walked up a small incline, then stopped suddenly when he noticed a lone male, probably another villager, standing about a hundred feet away from him. Unfortunately, the male had noticed him and began to walk slowly toward the agent—a slow, deliberate stagger as if he was drunk. The walkway was too narrow to get around him—he'd have to engage the man and take him out.
Leon took out his handgun and aimed for the male's head. However, he noticed in the dark surroundings that the man's eyes were a fiery red, very bright and unusual, as if the pupils contained a small red light inside.
Huh?
As it got closer, Leon noticed that the man's body began to move and spasm in odd directions, the arms flailing, the head quickly darting about like someone who had taken heavy amounts of drugs. Didn't he see that a gun was aiming directly at his head?
Leon squeezed his finger on the trigger, about to pull it back when he heard a tearing, ripping sound, something sick and sloppy. Suddenly, Leon stared in confusion as the man's head exploded—raining bits of skin, bone and brain chunks all around.
He kept advancing toward the confused agent, and no more than a second went by when Leon saw them—tentacles sprouting, shooting out of the man's bleeding neck, flailing wildly in all directions.
What the fuck?!
He was too shocked and amazed by this sudden horror unfolding before his eyes, but kept his gun firmly aimed at what was just the head a few seconds ago. The former space occupied by the man's head continued to transform in front of him, when something large sprouted forth from the middle of flailing tentacles—a blobby mess of veins, skin and blood. It opened one sick, watery yellow eye, its gaze fixed upon Leon. Leon opened fire, two shots that rang out in the night air, slicing into the bulbous head—and did nothing. The creature stopped for a second, enough for Leon to see a slimy tentacle, much longer than the others come out of the top of the head, then with a sick sloppy noise, morphed itself into a long, sharp—
--blade?!
Resuming its advance, the bladed tendril sliced through the air in a circular pattern, sweeping and cutting through the air with whip-like speed. Leon jumped back, out of the creature's quick blade, cutting through the night like a scythe.
Dear god, what the hell happened to you?
What the hell are you?
He fired again, three more rounds which tore through the head, spraying blood to the wet, muddy ground below. One shot went straight through the thick, viscous eye, causing the creature to emit an audible piercing, inhuman shriek. Another jagged lightning bolt cut through the night sky, and suddenly, the human part of the monster fell to its knees as if it was just stabbed. Leon quickly realized that this was one of those Plagas that the anonymous writer had mentioned, and as such, he quickly unclipped one of his flashbang grenades and hurled it at the creature as it began to stand back up. The blade whipped out along the ground in an attempt to slice Leon's legs off, but missed. Leon shielded his eyes just before the grenade exploded, and a bright, blinding white light surrounded the two.
A loud, ear-splitting squeal of pain shot out from the Plaga, as if someone was ripping it apart, followed by the sound of ripping membrane. He heard the body fall to the slick ground, and after ten seconds, Leon pulled his arm away from his eyes, the scene returning to normal. Shining his light upon the body, he found absolutely no trace of the parasite—just the decapitated body of the villager.
Damn, it just disintegrated…literally.
With the threat over for now, Leon decided he could muse upon it later—right now, he had to get Ashley. He ran up the path, knowing he was getting closer to the falls as the sound of rushing water grew louder and stronger.
I just hope I don't run into any more of those things…
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Luis found himself just leaving the back at the farm near the outset of the village, when he stopped for a moment to catch his breath. He knew that his house was just up ahead, but he had been running for some time now, and he just needed a minute. So far, they hadn't found him yet—he knew that Saddler, Salazar, and Mendez were hunting him. They knew he stole the master Plaga sample, and some medication to help slow the maturation process. He just hoped that he could get to Leon and the girl in time before the eggs hatched—if not that, then before the larvae Plagas could reach their maturity. Once they did, it was game over for both of them, and then, the world.
He had meant to leave some of the meds by Leon when he briefly saw him lying passed out on the floor. Noticing the dried blood on his hands, he knew that the Plagas had begun to do what they do best—they attacked by attaching themselves to the central nervous system of whatever host they happen to be occupying. Once they reached maturity, he hypothesized that they would "communicate" to the queen Plaga, which was currently occupying the bodies of the top three men in charge of the Los Illuminados. Their genetic structure was different than that of the regular Plagas which infected the ganados—the host containing the queen Plaga had full control over his or her own body, somehow harmonizing with the queen's resonant frequencies, enabling them to control anyone infected with the lesser Plaga parasites. What this medication would do is retard the rate of growth, thus buying more time. In addition, if the medicine was ingested before the eggs began to hatch, then the drug would kill the parasites. Unfortunately, seeing Leon in his current state confirmed what the researcher had dreaded—the eggs had hatched and begun trying to take over the body; the meds would only slow down their maturity. However, he was on the run, and couldn't stay for long—he didn't want to leave the meds for Leon, in case someone else stopped by and took them.
Now, he was heading back to his house, where much of his data and journals were kept, provided the house wasn't raided. Needless to say, he needed to get back to the island where the research facility was—that was where he was ordered to give the master Plaga sample to the beautiful lady in the red dress. She was incredibly sexy, but his charm wasn't winning her over. He had discovered that she had intercepted some correspondence from him at his facility, which was intended to go to another scientist and fellow friend at a university in Spain, but when she revealed herself to him, he had remembered being an emotional wreck. All this came after he realized Saddler's true intentions, and he was ready to turn himself into the police, the organization that he once worked valiantly for. His own greed led him to this nightmare, and he remembered begging her to take him into custody, thinking that she was a member of the police. Instead, he was ordered to get a master sample of a Plaga parasite. Still, her motives in this whole mess remained unclear, which was something that he'd have to chat with her about when he saw her next.
For the moment, he hoped that he'd at least find a temporary shelter inside his own house. He knew that not only was where he felt the most safe, but he had some munitions in case he ran into any more ganados. They were much more dangerous at night, a conclusion he arrived at early on in his research. Quickly, he discovered that the Plaga parasites were extremely sensitive to light—enough of it could actually kill them. He spent many hours in the dark, since it was the only way that he could study the live organisms. Because the parasites thrived at night, they were more likely to expose themselves, usually in the fashion of bursting out of their hosts. They were capable of this sudden burst after the parasite reached full maturity inside the host, which also meant that they had full control over the central nervous system of said host. Knowing this, he had left a couple of stolen flashbang grenades by the house on the lake. Seeing what had happened to Leon, he knew that his condition was caused by injected Plagas—knocking the unsuspecting host out was the first major step toward claiming the body. They induced seizure-like symptoms, cutting off or severely restricting the air supply to the lungs. The brain, deprived of oxygen, shuts down, taking the body with it. Once the body was at rest, the Plagas were free to continue their maturity without being hindered by the host's normal day-to-day activity.
A blinding flash of lightning streaked across the sky, followed by a booming peal of thunder as it echoed throughout the area, catching Luis by surprise, jumping off the ground. Still pouring, the drenched researcher resumed his run toward the lonely house. Once inside, he found himself surrounded in darkness. Feeling his way around, he climbed up on top of his dining table, reached into a pocket and pulled out a lighter. He grabbed an oil lantern that hung above the table, turned the knob and lit the flame. The warm, pale glow of the lantern light brightened up the room considerably, and he went to work lighting a couple others, so that from the outward appearance, one could have assumed that someone switched on a bulb. The village itself was so far away from any major city that it didn't have electricity—a luxury afforded by the wealthier folk on the island, such as Bitores Mendez, Ramon Salazar, and Osmund Saddler. However, the island research facility was a full-scale, properly equipped and running structure, complete with everything needed to do anything science related. Even though Luis grew up in the village, spent most of his life here, the people just learned to get on without most modern amenities—it was better, they thought. It kept them active rather than falling to the conveniences of modern living which led to laziness and sloth.
Observing his surroundings, the single large room that made up the ground floor showed no obvious signs of breaking and entering—everything was still intact. All the bookcases still had his books, much to his relief. Satisfied with what he saw, he went upstairs to the second floor, again, a single room occupying the entire floor. It served as Luis' bedroom, study, and den. He had spent many hours up here, continuing the day's research often long into the night. Lighting a bedside lantern, he noticed again that nothing had been disturbed, much to his pleasant surprise. He'd half-expected Mendez to charge through the place looking for the stolen master Plaga. Obviously they had all known now about Luis' betrayal, and no doubt that they were not going to stop until he either was captured and forcibly injected with another egg, or dead. Knowing Saddler, he would prefer to keep Luis very much alive, for no doubt Luis could still be useful even as a mindless puppet to Saddler.
Ah, good…I can relax for a little bit. Give me some time to think.
He sat down on his unmade bed, his head buried in his hands as his mind frantically spun, trying to piece together everything that had happened so far. Another thunderclap boomed through the air, the pouring rain showing no signs of abating anytime soon.
Una qué mala noche…and poor American, caught up in this whole mess, got infected, all for doing what his country asked of him. Some compensation…then again, I'm in the same boat.
He rubbed a sore spot on his neck from where the needle punctured the light brown skin. He had been given the same "gift" as Leon several hours ago—when he parted ways with the American cop, he knew that the church had kept a small stash of the vaccine; the pill drug that Luis himself had created and supplied Saddler with, even though Saddler insisted that there was no need for such a silly drug. He also knew that's where that girl was hiding, and probably where Saddler or one of his men would do their dirty work on "cleansing" her. He knew that the master Plaga was going to be very important in their ritual, so he swiped it from the church before they caught on. He was hoping that he'd run into that woman again and soon. He'd give the sample to her, and he could escape the nightmare and begin a new life, his lessons soundly and harshly learned. Greed and his own scientific curiosity blinded him to what Saddler's true intentions were, and now he was paying the price.
He reached into a pocket on his brown pants and pulled out a small tube, about as long as his hand. Inside, a slick, purple translucent liquid sloshed around, and inside it was a small, fully matured Plaga parasite. Because it hadn't attached itself to a host, it was harmless by itself. He stared at the thing, turning the test tube and watching the liquid move back and forth from one end to the other.
Look at what you've done, mi amigo…you've been a bad specimen.
He set the cylindrical glass tube down in a drawer of his night table, keeping it in the dark where it was more likely to stay alive. She wouldn't be happy if he brought her a dead sample. Personally, he didn't care either way, but if he could get out of this still alive, then everything was worth it. Even so, just looking at the specimen swimming in its purple goo caused his heart to be heavy with grief and inner torment, knowing that his research caused all this. Even though he wasn't devoutly religious, he felt he had to atone for his heinous crimes somehow, which was the only reason why he was even considering helping out the American in the first place.
Reaching into his other pocket to pull out the small container of those wonderful white pills, he suddenly felt a twinge of dread hit him in the stomach.
Eh?
His hand felt all around the inside of the pocket, and he came to the realization that the meds were gone. He began to panic.
¡Hijo de puta! Where the hell—mierda, I must have dropped them while running away from the ganados. Damn it!
"Damn it!" he yelled aloud, which was almost instantly followed by a loud crash of booming thunder, accentuating the point.
The only other place where any of the medicine may be is inside Salazar's castle…which means…oh, shit, I can't escape from this horror…FUCK!
Furious, he gritted his teeth in pure anger, knowing that if the American and the girl stood any chance of living, he'd have to find the meds for them, which meant backtracking into his castle—something that would delay his escape by a large timeframe. Reaching inside the drawer, he angrily grabbed the Plaga sample and pulled his arm back, ready to throw it, ready to end it all—
--when he realized that doing so would solve nothing. Even if he disposed of the sample, she would be very angry with him. Even though he didn't know her well, he knew women well enough to know that you didn't want to get one pissed. Even though she was hot, sexy, and just screaming to have a male buried deep inside her, she carried a gun. He was too emotionally unstable right now and she knew it, and was playing it to her advantage. The enormous torrent of emotions was quickly too much for the young scientist to bear, his heart and mind racked with sudden incredible guilt. He slumped back down onto the bed, letting the sample fall to the bed with him, unharmed.
Overcome, he buried his head in his hands and began to cry.
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The rain had let up slightly for the moment, the thunder and lightning at least stopped for now, but he was still soaked to the bone from navigating through the waterfall. There, he had come across an object that he prayed would unlock the church door—however, the task wasn't easy. The object itself was well hidden behind the actual falls, and he had to deal with those things again—creatures were just jumping out of everyone tonight, it seemed. He realized just how powerful one of his flashbang grenades could be—it took out several of those disgusting things in one shot. However, he was now out, and hoped he could get more.
He now found himself back at the church after finding a shortcut through the rock face which led him back to the lake. He crossed it and ventured back through familiar ground, back across the narrow wooden walkway that lined a rock face, and now here he stood at the front of the church. The object seemed to be the size of a small Frisbee, made of polished brown stone. In the center was that strange symbol he had seen on top of the church and on a door back in the village. Hopefully, this was the thing that would allow Leon into the church.
Here goes nothing…
He pushed the dense object into the circular recess in the double doors. He heard a small click after he pushed the round disc as far in as it could. He put his hand on the door and pushed, and finally, a wave of relief swept through him as the door gave, and at last, allowed him inside the church of the Los Illuminados.
He had walked into a relatively small edifice, pretty well lit church. Candelabras were lit, placed in spots about the place of worship. He noticed that the church was quite elaborately ornate. Several pews lined up in two neat rows, creating a middle walkway. Stone surrounded all sides of the building. He stepped inside, getting out of the driving rain and into the relatively warm surroundings.
Not a bad little place…
To the immediate left and right, walkways went around the pews, probably to behind the stone wall that housed the altar. Leon noticed that there was a second story, evidenced by a walkway there. The main attraction was indeed the front of the church itself. Tapestries hung off the sides, decorated with fine embroidery. On either side of the raised platform was banner flags—red fabric that had the unique symbol of the church sewn into the center.
Someone's a little extravagant…
He closed the door behind him and looked around some more, taking it all in, thinking about where Ashley could possibly be. In dead center stood a wooden altar, a dark piece—probably some real wood, polished and finished just so. An embroidered cloth was draped over it, and two candles stood at the ends. High above on the far wall was a large circular object containing the Los Illuminados symbol, appearing to be illuminated by three different color lights—red, green, and blue. Still, his mind wondered as to what religion was practiced here. To the right were two large glass windows. Leon could hear the driving rain pelting them.
Where could you be? It's not as if this was a huge place…
He took a few steps to his right and glanced down the walkway. From his view, it simply led to a dead end. Backtracking and proceeding to his left, he noticed a ladder that led up to the second floor. It was well hidden—it couldn't be seen from any of the pews. With no other option, he went a few steps and climbed quickly up the metal ladder until he got to the top. The second story simply was a narrow path that went around the perimeter of the church, nothing too special. He found himself standing directly above the altar, staring at the front of the church. He noticed a small, wooden chandelier that he didn't see before hanging from the ceiling. Circular in structure, it held candles all around. At eye level to Leon, hanging above the doorway, was a massive portrait of the cult leader, presumably. It was similar to the one he'd seen back in the Chief's house, just much larger. His dignified and stern visage seemed to glare at him, as if knowing that Leon shouldn't be here.
He turned the corner and found himself a metal wooden door set off to the left, the metal brown and rusty.
Might as well…
He had his gun raised and ready, expecting something to come bursting out of the door, probably another of those strange creatures—of which he had no flashbang grenades to use. He'd have to rely solely on firepower. He turned the knob, burst into the room—
--when suddenly a terrified female scream cut the through the air, sounding female. It let out another panicked yell, horrified by the sudden intrusion.
"Don't come any closer!" she screamed, grabbing a thick wooden stick lying on the ground and hurling it as hard as she could toward the intruder.
Her aim was considerably off as it sailed past Leon, hitting the stone wall behind him.
"Hey, take it easy!" Leon yelled irritably, in no mood to take crap from this person after his ordeal thus far.
"No!" she screamed, then ran herself into a corner, effectively trapping herself. "Go away!"
Never back yourself into a corner.
He moved closer to the terrified girl. "Calm down. Everything's going to be just fine."
Her scared brown eyes searched for an exit. She bolted toward the open door, but got only a few steps when Leon grabbed her by the wrist. "My name's Leon. I'm under orders from the President to rescue you."
She turned her head toward the man, ceasing her struggling.
"What? My…father?"
Leon managed a slight grin. "That's right, and I've come to get you out of here. Just a sec." He grabbed his radio and called Hunnigan. In seconds, her face showed up on the tiny screen.
"It's Leon. I've succeeded in extricating my subject."
She smiled. "Good work, Leon. I'll send an evac chopper over right away."
"Where's the extraction point?"
"There's another trail that you can take to get out of the village. The chopper will pick you up beyond there."
"Got it," he replied. "I'm on my way. Leon out."
Putting the radio away, he quickly checked his handgun, and then quickly turned to the girl behind him.
"Let's go."
They walked quickly out of the room, down the walkway, being as quiet as they could. As they turned the corner, Leon climbed down the ladder quickly. When he got to the bottom, he was staring up at a skeptical-looking Ashley, her facial expression one of fear.
Shit. So the girl doesn't like heights.
"Come on!" he motioned. "Let's go!"
"I can't!" she whined. "I don't like heights!"
After all he had done, he didn't have time for this pansy bullshit—there was no time to lose. He wasn't going to sit here and coddle her. So he utilized the sure-fire method of getting her down.
"Suit yourself," Leon said, turning and walking quickly toward the exit.
"NO!" she screamed loudly, perhaps a bit too loud. "All right…" she began, her voice shrinking in fear. "If I jump, will you catch me?"
Leon smirked. "Yes. Now hurry! We have no time!" He held out his arms at the base of the ladder, ready.
She stood for another few seconds, her hands balled into fists at her sides, the knuckles turning white. "All right!" She closed her eyes tight and jumped off the ledge, and in two seconds it was over—she landed safely in his arms.
"Was that so bad?" he asked, setting her upright. She silently shook her head. "Well, then, let's go." The two ran down the walkway, made a left as they made for the door. When they arrived out in the open church, a new voice unfamiliar to Leon resonated throughout the church, deep and firm.
"I'll take the girl."
The two of them turned around in time to see a man standing in front of the altar, a man dressed in heavy religious robes made of dark blue and purple fabrics. He wore a head covering, and he looked rather pale, unusually so. Along his upper chest, gold adorned the gap between the robes.
The man in those portraits…
Leon glared at him angrily. "Who are you?"
He smiled. "If you must know, my name is Osmund Saddler, the master of this fine…religious community." His voice had a heavy Spanish accent, but he spoke English well, it seemed.
"What do you want?" Leon asked firmly, not taking his gaze off Saddler.
He took a step forward, then raised his arms wide in gesture. "To demonstrate to the whole world our astounding power, of course." He chuckled; gaze still locked on the two Americans, then took another step forward. "No longer will the United States think they can police the world forever. So we kidnapped the President's daughter in order to give her our power…then send her back."
"No…" Ashley moaned as images flooded back to her in a rush—remembering getting knocked out, then seeing someone, a cloaked figure, inject her in the neck with a strange substance. She raised her hand to her neck, giving Leon a pained expression. "I think they shot something in my neck…"
Leon returned his glare to the grinning leader. "What did you do to her?!"
Saddler simply smiled. "We just planted her a little…gift." He laughed loudly this time, a dry laugh of triumph. "Oh, there's going to be one hell of a party when she returns home to her loving father." He began to pace back and forth by the altar. "But before that, I thought I might bargain with the President for some…donations. Believe it or not—" He gestured toward the illuminated Los Illuminados symbol above him—"It takes quite a lot of money to keep this church up and running."
"Faith and money will lead you nowhere, Saddler." Leon called out.
"Oh, I believe I forgot to tell you," Saddler began, stopping in front of the altar. "We gave you the same gift."
Shit, when I was unconscious…
"Oh, I truly hope you like our small, but special contributions," Saddler continued. "When the eggs hatch, you'll become my puppets. Involuntarily, you'll do as I say. I'll have total control over your mind!" He chuckled again, confident. "Don't you think this is a revolutionary way to propagate one's faith?"
"Sounds more like an alien invasion, if you ask me!" Leon yelled, his temper being tested as he became madder by the second. Before anyone could continue, the double doors burst open behind them. Turning around quickly, Leon saw two men dressed in black robes, grinning manically, aiming crossbows directly at the two Americans. He glanced back at Saddler, still grinning.
I'm gonna wipe that stupid grin off your face!
"Come on!" Leon yelled, gripping Ashley firmly by the arm, and suddenly they were running away to the right. Instantly, the two men fired their crossbows, just missing Leon's head by mere inches as they lodged themselves into a pillar. Both of them leaped into the air, crashing directly into the window, causing it to shatter loudly as glass shards flew past the both of them. In panic, Ashley screamed loudly, covering her face as best she could. They landed on hard stone floor, and found themselves inside a storage room of sorts as glass rained down on the two of them. Quickly, the two of them stood up, and Ashley checked herself for any damage.
"You okay?" Leon asked.
She nodded, looking at Leon with a look of pure terror. "What's gonna happen to us?"
"Don't worry," Leon said reassuringly. "We got into this mess, we can get out of it."
I'm gonna get you, Saddler. You are going to pay dearly when I see you next!
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END OF CHAPTER SIX. Yeah, I know. People who have played this: you're probably going to ask me why I didn't put in the El Gigante. Several reasons: one, there's several of them, two; as it stands in this novel, Leon doesn't have the ammo. Three: he just fought Del Lago about six hours prior. I thought it best to move the plot along rather than throw yet another massive monster for Leon to fight. Give the man a break! El Gigante will appear, just not yet. With that said, reviews welcome. Chapter Seven up soon.
