The treatment plant looked foreboding, but they still had to check it out.
Jimmy unslung his shotgun and went ahead. The coast was clear, so he signaled Steph to follow. She unholstered her 9mm before joining him on the bridge.
"Hello?"
His call, although light, still echoed around them.
"I don't think anyone's gonna answer, Jimmy."
"Right. I knew that."
Steph grinned, but when they reached the doors to the plant, her grin faded away. Jimmy grasped the door handles. They were unlocked.
That was expected…
They entered the plant. It was dimly lit and it smelled funny. They saw a single door in front of them to the right. However, it was locked. Turning the corner, they could see two more doors.
"Which one should we try?" Jimmy asked.
"I'll take the one on the right," Steph said. She entered the room, flashing him a quick smile before closing the door.
"Okay," he said to himself. "Let's have a look-see…"
He headed to the next door ahead. He opened it and ended up in an office of sorts. He assumed that it was for the manager.
Well, no zombies, no lizard-freaks, and no red tongue-demons…so far, so good.
He headed to the next door and stepped inside a room literally obscured by steam. He was able to make out an elevator lift next to him. He stepped aboard and rode it down.
Wonder what's down here…
He aimed the shotgun ahead of him as the lift descended—
—and ended up in a storage room of sorts. Ahead of him was a big safe. He couldn't find any input device to crack the lock, so he ignored it. Instead, he noticed a small box covered by a thin sheet. He pulled the sheet and discovered a small pile of ammo.
Oh, yeah.
There were two 5.56mm rifle magazines, which would definitely fit Steph's rifle, and two boxes of shotgun shells. These shells were a little different. It read, "Incendiary Shells. Handle with Care."
Hmm…
He took the incendiary shells and the rifle clips, wondering what exactly they were using these on—
—when he heard machinery from somewhere in the plant. Then, he heard screaming, a roar, and gunfire.
Steph!
He scrambled back to the lift, vaguely aware that he dropped his radio, and pressed the Up switch, hoping that he wasn't too late.
The zombies were too slow to worry about, so Alex sped past them, not really caring.
If they can't run, they're not much of a threat…
He continued on, past the decaying cannibals and past more flaming debris. Steph and Jimmy had already gone through here, since the treatment plant was near his destination. And if they ran into trouble, they could easily regroup at the tower.
At least I hope so…
He arrived at the clock tower well before dark. He parked next to the front gate, in case he had to get out quickly. He walked to the front doors and opened them, his gun drawn.
Inside there were four U.B.C.S. soldiers…and they all aimed their MP5A5s at him. One of them was familiar.
"Hawkins!"
The Russian remembered him, his accent thick in the cool, still lobby. "Mr. Walker. You're alive."
"So are you and your posse. Any luck getting backup over here?"
"No such luck. Are Wesker and Frost okay?"
Alex smiled. "Knowing Steph and Jimmy, they wouldn't croak easily."
Hawkins smiled back. "That's good. As a matter of fact, there's two systems that will help us signal the helicopter."
Alex's eyes widened. "Helicopter? That's good. I gotta call in my friends…"
"Friends? There's more civilians?"
"Yeah. Now how do we call in the helicopter?"
"One way is to ring the bells, but we need special gears to get it to work. Another way is to find an auxiliary system that will ring the bells without them. But we've had trouble finding it."
Alex nodded. "I see. You guys need a hand?"
Hawkins paused for a moment.
"Sure. I mean, you didn't get in our way before, so, yeah, you can help us."
"Thanks."
Hawkins spoke to his troops. "Carson, you and the others check the first floor. Walker and I will take the second. If you find anything, we'll meet back here. Move out!"
They split into their respected groups. Alex and Hawkins headed to the second floor to search for the auxiliary system.
Pavel Hawkins was afraid. But if he revealed it to his team, they'd lose their morale, so he kept it to himself.
Alex Walker, though…
He'd only known Walker a few minutes, before and after their reunion in the clock tower, but he could tell that he had nothing to fear, which was, to be honest, scary in itself.
They skirted the second floor quickly; it wasn't exactly a floor per se, but a balcony and a single door at the end. The bell tower was right behind that door, though he already looked up there before.
Walker was pointing his Beretta towards the ceiling. Pavel looked up to see big mounds of webbing…and people inside them.
Whoa…
"I've seen the spiders in this city. They're huge," Walker said coolly.
"You wouldn't happen to have a big can of Raid, would ya?" Pavel asked.
Walker chuckled. Pavel told himself that it was the first time he'd seen him actually laugh.
"No. Do you?"
It was Pavel's turn to laugh. Walker smiled in response. Then his smile faded as they stepped outside. There was a single zombie up there with them. Walker killed it with a single 9mm round. Then they walked to the edge of the railing.
Pavel shivered. It was definitely cold outside the building.
"Is that where the bells are?" Walker pointed to the top of the tower.
Pavel nodded. "I checked. The gears are missing."
His radio beeped. He clicked the transmit button. "This is Hawkins, over."
"Sir! It's Carson, over."
"Carson? What's wrong, over?"
"We've found the auxiliary system. We're activating it now, over."
At that moment, the bells rang. They were very powerful and loud. Walker winced.
"Good job. We're heading to the lobby, over and out."
He depressed the button and pulled his Colt .45 from his hip holster, checking the weapon. He had a full clip of seven rounds plus two more. Walker was following behind. As they climbed down the stairs, his mind was full of thoughts.
What is Umbrella gonna think of our inefficiency to control the situation? We couldn't get this under control—
All thoughts about his possible future were silenced immediately when he saw Carson, standing in the lobby…and bleeding, his back to Pavel.
"Carson?"
Pavel stepped towards him—
—and he just fell to the floor. He could see the large hole in his chest. He was pierced.
Yeah, but by what? What the hell's going on?
Then they heard a distant explosion. Pavel motioned Walker to stay inside, then stepped out onto the yard. He saw a large fire in the distance. Worst of all, there was no helicopter.
No…
Then he noticed the corpses of the rest of his team. He saw that they were also pierced the same way Carson was. He looked around the area, his MP5A5 ready and loaded with his last clip.
Then, someone appeared from the shadows. It was a woman. She was blonde, in her late teens, and she was wearing black clothing. She had her left hand covered with blood.
What the hell—
Pavel aimed his weapon at the approaching woman. He had the sense that something was very wrong with her, although he didn't know how. She wasn't infected, at least on the outside. So what was the deal with her?
"Stop!" he shouted. She didn't. All she did was smile. Her smile was a wide, shark-like grin that seemed to widen even more. She was definitely crazy.
"I said 'Stop!'"
She still didn't stop. He opened fire with the MP5A5 and emptied the clip, sending thirty 9mm rounds into her. She didn't fall.
What the—
Suddenly, she lunged, knocking the weapon from Pavel's hands. He was pushed to the ground. The woman was heading for him, her bullet wounds no longer bleeding.
Shit!
She raised her arm…and her hand disappeared, replaced by sharp talons. He wouldn't be able to draw his Colt in time. She was going to gut him like a fish—
—or she would have, if not for the gunshots directed to her back. Pavel looked past her to see Walker discarding an empty assault rifle and removing his jacket. He didn't draw his guns, though. Instead, he drew his knife.
He's crazy! He can't take her!
"Get away!" he shouted, but he ignored him.
Then, she just lunged at Walker. He braced himself—
—and then he was throwing her against the wall. Again, Pavel was surprised by Walker's abilities. He was literally fighting her, hand-to-hand, his knife deflecting her claw. He was either extremely confident or extremely stupid. Then, they leapt out of sight, past the clock tower walls. Pavel could only stare as they disappeared from view. It seemed like an eternity had passed since that moment and he was just entirely stunned.
What the hell is going on here?
Just as he thought that, they reappeared, still in the fight. It seemed that Walker lost the upper hand. He was lying down on the dirt, his knife ten feet away. She almost reached him, her claw-hand flexing—
—but she suddenly turned her head toward something and jumped out of view. It took Pavel forever to get up and check on him.
"Walker?" He didn't respond. "Alex!"
Alex opened his eyes. He pushed himself into a sitting position. He groaned loudly.
"Damn…did a chick just kick my ass? I must be getting rusty…"
Pavel smiled. He was alive, at least, but that woman was still around. They had to leave.
"You alright? We have to get out of here."
Alex nodded slowly as he drew his .357 from his thigh holster and retrieved his knife. He got himself back to his feet and they decided to search the fallen soldiers for ammo.
It's grave robbing, but at this point, it's necessary…
They came up with six MP5A5 magazines and four shells for the M79, which Alex took. After their search, they left the clock tower. But before they could leave the general area, Pavel overheard something that sounded like a collision. He went back for a moment and saw two people crawl out of a cable car that crashed and landed in the front yard.
One of them was a woman, dressed in a blue tube top and a miniskirt. The other was a male U.B.C.S. soldier. Pavel fished out his binoculars and read the nametag: Oliveira.
Carlos Oliveira…he's still alive.
Pavel silently wished him good luck, then went to rejoin Alex.
The entire week blurred in her head so fast, Miranda almost felt like losing it. She wondered how this all started.
On the 22nd, there was that report about a girl being assaulted by a drunk in the park. Then, on the 25th, the RPD told us to set up roadblocks. Now, it's the 28th, and we're knee-deep. The entire force must be dead by now—
She clamped down on the thought immediately.
There just has to be survivors. There just has to be!
She drove on, wondering what her next move would be—
—when she ran into something on the road. The S.W.A.T. van suddenly jumped in the air and landed on its back and it still went forward, sparks flying underneath the metal.
Shit!
The van finally stopped, and Miranda, after a few minutes, finally got her focus. She unbuckled her seat belt and her head landed on the roof of the cab. She felt a lump sticking out. Despite her slight injury, she was still able to function. She smashed the windshield and belly-crawled out, the shards of glass sliding past her legs. She eventually stood back up, surveying the area, wondering who—or what—she just hit.
Then, she saw them.
They were ten feet away, all crouched down next to a fourth one, dead. She saw that the creature was what caused her van to crash. They saw her and squealed. They looked like bluish-green squashed frogs with webbed feet and big mouths.
When they squealed, the noise sent chills down Miranda's spine. They jumped and halved the distance between them. Miranda stumbled and ran away. The frog-things were catching up.
Damn, those things are fast!
She tripped and fell to the ground, the rough asphalt grinding against her knees. She felt sharp talons slice her back, her uniform shirt ripping apart. She screamed in pain.
But thankfully, her little tumble sent the frog-things past her. She wasted no time. She pulled out the Desert Eagle and emptied the clip. Seven .50AE rounds slammed into all three of them. They didn't move.
Miranda reloaded her Eagle and grabbed the Remington. She walked cautiously towards the fallen monsters to make sure they were dead. She then noticed her torn shirt barely hanging off her shoulders. She stripped it off, revealing a bloodstained undershirt. And to add insult to injury, her pants were covered with several tears as well.
Now I'm gonna need some new clothes...
She saw a boutique a few blocks away. She broke into a jog and reached it. She entered and noticed the three zombies inside. She blew them away before dropping her weapons and checking the racks. Eventually, she found a clean, sleeveless red shirt and black shorts, as well as knee-high boots. She headed to the nearest dressing room and started to change out of what was left of her uniform, unbuckling her thigh and hip holsters.
As she did so, she wondered what would happen to her now that she was alone.
I know what I'm going to do. I'm gonna survive. I'm gonna escape, and I'm taking those people with me!
She knew that she had to. She owed Jerry that much.
Jerry…
She shook her head. Feeling guilty about the past wasn't going to change anything, except her focus; she had to stay clear-headed in order to survive.
When she finished changing clothes, she stepped out of the dressing room and looked in the mirror, at her scars and at her face, at her dirty red hair. She looked like a totally different person. She looked more like a civilian and less like the twenty-one-year-old cadet she was. For a moment, she held her badge and wondered.
Is Raccoon ever gonna be saved?
Again, she shook her head. It should've been taken care of a long time ago, before the blockades, before the attacks, and before the death.
Umbrella should've helped. They practically own this town—
Miranda's eyes widened. The S.T.A.R.S. claimed that Umbrella was behind the cannibal murders, that the cannibals were, in fact, zombies. Of course, Umbrella used its financial power to discredit them, to suspend them, just so that they could continue their research.
They knew…and they didn't even care that they were destroying our lives!
Now Umbrella had royally screwed up. And now the city paid the price for its narrow shortsightedness. Raccoon was dead. Her future as an RPD officer was dead. Her hope of having a normal life...was dead.
With a determined look in her eye, she threw her badge into a wastebasket next to the cash register and grabbed her weapons and holsters, the shotgun light in her hands.
It's time to get the hell out of this urban cemetery…
She stepped out of the boutique and shook her ponytail off. She was definitely a different person than before. She noticed a small house nearby. She stepped inside and locked the door. She had to find someplace to hole up for a while, and this house would do.
I'm gonna make it out. We all are.
Back then, she was a cop, always prepared to follow orders. She was always loyal to Raccoon and to Umbrella. Now, she was neither. She was her own person.
She headed upstairs into the master bedroom and crashed onto the bed. Thankfully, it was clean and smelled good. She closed her tired eyes and slept. Miranda Irons was a survivor, and she was going to make it out alive. She absolutely had to.
Jacob arrived at City Hall, but his car got wrecked by some of the monsters that Steph told him about. He scrambled to the top of the stairs, and two zombies were blocking his path. He fished out his revolver and shot their heads, taking them out. When they went down, he dived into the building and closed the doors. He found the lock and turned it. As soon as he did, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to see a couple of people, and they weren't infected…yet. Jacob knew the male, who aimed a .44 revolver.
"Ronald!"
Ronald Hemmings lowered his weapon and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Oh, Jacob. You're alive."
"So are you. Who's your friend?"
He nodded to the woman. "My wife, Mary."
Mary nodded back. "Any news from the outside?"
Jacob shook his head. "All the lines are down. We're cut off."
Mary looked away, obviously not pleased with the news.
"Well then," Ronald said, "we'll just have to find a way out ourselves. I think there's an escape tunnel somewhere in the building."
Jacob nodded. "If I remember, the previous Mayor was a little…off. He always thought someone was out to get him. So he built a tunnel to sneak out and avoid the crowd."
"If it's still around," said Ronald, "we can use it to escape. Jacob, you and I will take the second floor. Mary, you take the first floor. We'll meet back here in twenty minutes."
Jacob nodded, and so did Mary.
"Okay. Let's do it."
They split up, and at that moment Jacob was wondering about Stan. Was he still alive?
I said I'd be back for him. I'm not gonna break my promise…
With that in mind, Jacob headed to the stairs with Ronald.
Stephanie was in the middle of her search and, other than the two zombies she had to shoot down in the flooded basement room, it was pretty uneventful.
The entire plant was perhaps the least affected area she'd been in all night, with only a few zombies to deal with. As she headed back to the room with the dirty water, her thoughts were of Uncle Albert yet again. She hadn't considered it before, but now that she'd seen those creatures for real, she was starting to believe what Barry told her: Uncle Albert was partly responsible for what happened in the Spencer estate.
If so, then he's indirectly responsible for this mess, but he's been dead for two months. If not him, then who?
That was a question for another day, if—when she made it out alive. She headed to the elevator and pressed the Up button. She remembered that there were four zombies in the control room that she passed. She jacked a round into the Beretta and waited for the elevator to stop. The doors opened—
—and there were no zombies.
What? I remember four being here…
She shook her head. Given their state of decay, they could've already melted into piles of goo. She turned left and saw that the door past the elevator was cracked open. She edged toward the door, handgun ready. She opened the door, and nothing jumped out.
She stepped into a rather cool chamber. The temperature was mildly cold and there was no indication of change. She walked down the chamber and saw an open door to her right. She grabbed her flashlight and went inside.
Whoa!
The smell was immense and immediate. It was so strong, she almost felt like throwing up right there. She kept it together and started to sweep the dark room.
Must be a dump for garbage…but where's the disposal?
She noticed the jagged lines in the floor…and her stomach clenched. The entire room was a disposal. She ran back to the door—
—but it was locked.
No! Damn it!
She continued to bang on the door, hoping that Jimmy was nearby—
—until the floor opened up. Stephanie screamed as she went down with the trash. She eventually landed in a large pool. Apparently, it was the same one she passed before. She spluttered foul-tasting water out of her mouth as she swam frantically to the nearest trash pile, resisting another urge to vomit.
She was totally soaked, her hair clinging to her skull, her fatigues dripping with water and slime. She ejected the wet clips and grenade from both of her weapons and reloaded with new ones.
At least I'm not incinerated…
She then stood up, wondering how she was going to get to the elevator without drowning in the putrid lake—
—and the biggest thing she'd seen all night reared its ugly head and roared. It was a worm, but it was fifteen feet tall and slimy…and it had teeth.
Uh-oh…
She aimed the rifle, set it to full-auto, and fired. 5.56mm rounds hammered the worm's improbable body, dark blood gushing out of its wounds. The rifle clicked empty. Stephanie grabbed a fresh clip from her vest and reloaded.
The worm slammed into the ground under the water.
Oh, shit. These trash piles won't stop it. I gotta get out of here!
The worm appeared yet again. Stephanie aimed the rifle, knowing that all she could do was keep it at bay, but still didn't know if she could. She was down to her last rifle clip, and her 9mm would be useless.
God, please let this be quick—
"Steph!"
Stephanie looked up to see Jimmy lowering a rope ladder.
Thank God!
Stephanie reached for the ladder—
—but the worm emerged from underground again. She aimed her rifle and placed her finger on the grenade launcher's trigger. She fired, and the grenade exploded, the worm writhing in pain. It burrowed away, giving her a chance to climb the ladder to safety.
When she reached the top, she hugged Jimmy tightly. He returned the hug, obviously worried.
He just saved my life. Again.
"You okay?"
She nodded. "Yeah. But we gotta get out of here."
"Right."
They got up and headed to the front doors, ready to leave—
—but they were locked from the outside.
Damn it!
They had to find another way out.
Jimmy continued to pull the handle on the door, but to no avail. They were trapped.
"Well…now what?" Steph said.
Jimmy shrugged. "I don't know. We'll just have to find another path. My radio's gone, and who knows if yours still works."
She nodded. "Then I guess we're on our own…"
As they walked back into the corridor, Steph stopped in her tracks.
"Wait a minute. I think I saw a ladder in the basement. Come on!"
She ran, Jimmy following her.
Where's she going?
They headed through a control room and into an elevator. As they went down, Steph was reloading the grenade launcher attachment on her assault rifle.
"Get ready…" she whispered as she unholstered her 9mm.
"Right," he replied.
"Did you find any ammo? I'm almost out."
Jimmy nodded and found the incendiary shells he took before, loading the shotgun with them. He also handed the two rifle magazines to Steph, nodding absently towards her. She smiled, but it faded as the elevator stopped.
The doors opened, and Steph signaled for a sweep. Jimmy nodded and drew the handgun. They stepped out, Steph on the right, Jimmy on the left. It was clear.
They headed past a room that was apparently used to dump garbage in, the room itself dominated by a huge pool of tainted water; it was the same room Steph was in. They went down some nearby stairs and went through another door.
The room was flooded, and Jimmy thought he could smell garbage in the room itself. He also noticed the two zombies in the water, shot in the head by Steph's handgun.
Steph pointed to a ladder on the wall. They climbed it, and ended up past a flimsy fence. They stepped forward…and saw a motorboat docked on the shore of the river.
I can't believe it…
"Let's use that boat," Jimmy said. Steph nodded.
They went down to the boat, checking its condition. It was fueled and ready to go, but the rope was securely bound with six ropes.
Steph fished out her knife and began to cut it.
Jimmy let out a deep breath, just starting to relax—
—when a giant worm erupted from the water. It was that same goddamn worm!
"Jimmy, look out!" Steph screamed.
Jimmy aimed the shotgun at the approaching beast.
"Just get those ropes cut!" he shouted, and opened fire.
The first shell ignited against the worm's flesh, not far from where Steph's grenade hit it. It was flaming all around the grenade wound, somehow increasing its agony. Jimmy smiled for a moment—
—before it burrowed into the ground. Jimmy cursed himself for not firing again.
He checked Steph's progress. She was done with the third rope and was working on the fourth.
Not enough time—
The worm emerged again. Jimmy pumped and fired again. He saw the damage inflicted, and didn't pause. He pumped and fired again, and again, and again, and again.
The worm was screaming. Then it fell to the ground, not moving. Jimmy drew his 9mm and cautiously stepped towards the overgrown annelid, pointing the weapon at it. It wasn't dead, but it was unconscious.
"Steph?"
"I'm done!"
She threw away the ropes, smiling. But Jimmy wasn't in the mood for congratulating her efforts.
"Let's get the hell out of here," he said, and meant it. Then, Steph's radio beeped.
"Steph! Jimmy! Are you there?"
There was a fair amount of static, but there was no mistaking the voice; it was Alex. Steph wasted no time and thumbed the receiver.
"Alex?"
"Steph! Are you guys okay?"
Steph grimaced. "Yeah, but…it's a long story. I'll tell you when we get back."
Jimmy could hear the thread of unease in Alex's voice.
"I see. We ran into some trouble over here at the clock tower as well."
"We?"
"Yeah. I found Hawkins, but his team is dead. We're in the press office. Meet us there."
Steph sighed. "Copy. On our way."
With that, they started the motor and went away, far from the treatment plant and back into the city. At that moment, Jimmy wondered if Miranda and Jacob were having better luck.
