Resident Evil and all of it's characters, locations, etc. belong to Capcom.
"Pass me over La Fee Verte."
Jim flipped a silver dollar on the dimly lit, creaky porch outside of Room 101. David had told him to wait outside about five minutes previous, before going in himself. All Jim could do was trust him. All of the phone lines were apparently dead, and between co-operating with this guy and getting him on his way, and facing Mickey, he'd have to take his chances with David. He didn't seem crazy, but the things he said didn't make much sense all the same. He'd rushed out of Mickey's house like he'd seen a ghost, and as far as Jim knew, he had, because whatever David had seen, he wasn't telling. He'd headed straight back to his room with Jim close behind, before heading in and closing the door behind him. Sounds of crickets and the occasional breeze through the trees were all that kept Jim company now as he grew more and more restless. Jim flipped the coin into the air again, but fumbled it as it came back down. It clattered down to the wooden floor, and rolled until it went off the side of the porch and landed in a patch of grass and weeds. Sighing, Jim briefly left his post to go and retrieve it. Carefully foraging though the grass on the off chance of snakes or spiders, he managed to retrieve the silver dollar. Just as he'd spotted it, he heard the door to Room 101 open behind him. David stood in the doorway, watching Jim in befuddlement as he dug around in the grass for his coin.
"Jim, come in here, please."
Jim rose and did so. Looking into Room 101, he saw Michelle, the prostitute, sprawled out and naked on the bed. She was sickly pale and there was a bloody bandage on the crown of her head, amidst her mass of thick hair.
"Jesus! What did you do to her?" asked Jim, an accusatory tone to his voice.
"What did I do? I'm the one that gave her CPR and saved her life, asshole! And who do you think bandaged her head?"
"It's just-I mean, what happened to her?"
"I told you. She had a seizure or something and fell in the shower. She hit her head on the way down."
"Nah, I don't remember you telling me. In fact, you haven't been telling me anything!"
"What do you want me to do? All that's been going on, and you want me to sit you down for fuckin' story time?"
"Look, man, a little back story would be nice is all. I don't know what the fuck is going on! I've been following you around and standing around like a goddamn punk all night, and I'm sick of it!"
"Alright, look," David said with a sigh, "Help me get her in the van and I'll fill you in. We've gotta get her to a hospital."
Jim nodded as David motioned him into the room. The prostitute was clearly in rough shape, but she was breathing pretty steadily. As far as Jim could tell, it was possible she was just passed out.
"Is she gonna be okay?" asked Jim.
"I'm no doctor, but she seems to be stabilized. I'm pretty sure she's gonna need stitches for that cut though. Here, help me wrap her up in this."
David had the comforter under one arm and handed it Jim. David lightly lifted the woman off of the bed.
"Go ahead. Spread it out."
Jim spread out the balled up comforter onto the bed, and David gently lay the naked prostitute down on top of it. He began wrapping the woman up in it, almost as a mother swaddles a newborn. He wrapped her until only her head was exposed, and then reached into his pocket, pulling out a ring of keys and handing them to Jim.
"Go out to my van, open up the back and clear out all the equipment from the floor. Just leave it on the ground for now. I'll worry about it all later. Go ahead and crank the engine up while you're at it."
Jim nodded at the man's instructions, took the keys, and hurried out of the room, relieved to be back out in the fresh night air.
Once Jim had left the room, David looked around the room and went through a mental checklist of things he may need. Wallet. Check. ID. Check. Toolbag. Check.
Looking down at Michelle, David found himself saying a silent prayer for her well-being. He couldn't remember the last time he'd said a prayer, for himself or anybody, and he honestly didn't know who or what the prayer was directed to, but in that moment, it seemed like the thing to do. Michelle's chest rose and fell lightly under the cover of the comforter, but she didn't look like she was out of the woods yet. She'd seemed winded on her way to take a shower, but David hadn't thought much of it. That bite on her back though. Could that have something to do with it? He knew an infected wound when he saw it, and something was definitely going on there. If she was telling the truth, it had only happened earlier in the day. He'd never seen a wound get visibly infected that quickly. It looked like it could have been a poisonous snake or spider bite after a few weeks, but to think that it could have happened earlier that day? Something simply didn't add up.
"Goddammit, Michelle. What the hell happened to you?"
He cared deeply for the prostitute, but not without a side of self-loathing. He hadn't cared about anyone else but himself for years, and now he'd actually fallen for someone, and she was a prostitute, possibly a dying one as well. How much of a fool could he be? Suddenly, David felt extremely tired and all determination drained from his body as he sat on the bed at Michelle's feet. He sat with his head in his hands and absorbed the silence of the room.
What the hell had he seen in Mickey's house? A ghost? A hallucination? He knew what he thought he'd seen, but that was impossible. The most logical explanation was a manifestation by the brain as a result of being extremely over-worked and stressed. Dead people didn't watch you as you watched them, and they sure as hell didn't rise to greet you. But David had never experienced any hallucination so strong or vivid before. In fact, David had never remembered hallucinating in his life, even in his experimental drug days. Not that that made it impossible. The mind was a fascinatingly complicated thing. What you thought you knew one moment, made no sense the next. David had learned and forgotten that lesson several times in his life. Just as you got comfortable with the information you'd been presented in your life, somehow it all got scrambled and didn't seem to make sense anymore. Just as you tried to learn it again, you realized you didn't have the time or the resources to do such a thing. And then, the alarm clock sounds.
He was tired. He shouldn't have sat down. He couldn't see himself getting up again.
"Julie." David said aloud.
It sounded good in the silence of the musty room, so he said it again. Softly. Again and again.
"Julie."
"Huh?" said Jim in the doorway.
Startled, David turned to face the man too quickly, and something popped in his neck.
"I said the van's ready to go. You okay?"
"Yeah. Help me with her will ya."
David stood with a groan and moved out of Jim's way so he could lift Michelle's lower half. David held her upper half, careful to cradle her head so it wouldn't bob around wildly. Before lifting her off of the bed, David grabbed a pillow off the bed and eased it under head. On three, he and Jim lifted her gently off of the bed and into the cool night air. The back doors of the van were already open when they reached it, and various tools and equipment lay scattered around on the ground nearby. The engine purred softly in the otherwise quiet night. The crickets had stopped. They set her on the cold hard floor of the van, wrenches, screws, and other parts jangling and hanging on the walls above her. Sliding her and the pillow under head as far into the van as they could, they closed one door behind her, and then the other.
David turned to Jim who seemed to just notice the lack of ambient sound in the night air.
"Alright, man. I really appreciate your help. I owe ya one."
"No problem. C'mon, we'd better hurry."
"Wait. You're coming?"
"Well, yeah. Who's gonna help you get her out? Besides, I didn't have a ride anyway. Let's go."
"So, you're not worried about losing your job?"
"After tonight? Believe me, I quit."
David smiled a little and nodded.
"I don't blame you."
They climbed into the van, David in the driver's seat, Jim in the passenger's and pulled away from The Raccoon Motel. They pulled off onto the scarcely lit back road that would eventually lead them to the highway. They drove in silence as David didn't even think to turn the radio on. The van squeaked and bumped down the road at 65 mph, twenty over the speed limit. David was in a hurry, but getting in too much of a hurry and crashing into a tree wouldn't help anything. He reached down under the wheel for a moment, found and pushed the button for the emergency lights. The van barreled down the dark and deserted road, illuminating the passing trees in a brief glow of red every other moment.
"Check on her will ya."
Jim maneuvered to unhook his arm from his seat belt, and turned to look down at the prostitute, wrapped up and unconscious behind their seat. She was as they'd left her. Eyes closed and pale. But still breathing.
"She's good."
"Good."
They drove on in silence. Jim looked out into the darkness of the passenger side window. The red glow of the emergency lights illuminated the passing forestry every other second. One second darkness. The next, red trees and red brush. Soon, he grew tired of the monotonous scenery.
"So, uh, David, right?"
"Yeah."
"You still haven't told me what had you so freaked in Mick's place. Man, you looked like you'd just seen a goddamned ghost, son! What happened?"
David shifted uncomfortably in his seat, eyes never leaving the road, one hand on the wheel.
"I, uh, I just thought I saw something, I, uh, something I really didn't see. Is all."
Feeling Jim's eyes on him, he briefly took his eyes off the road to look at him. Jim was watching him with a look of puzzlement.
"What?" asked David irritably.
"You thought you saw something you didn't really see. Is all. What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Alright, listen. It had been a long day, it has been a long day. I had a long day at work, I had a hell of a time getting the job done at the motel. I'd seen her have a seizure or something, given her CPR, I was in a panic looking for a phone to call 911. My mind wasn't right, okay? I got upstairs, found a phone, but I couldn't get through to the emergency operator for some reason. It was dark, I was alone, my heart was racing, and I thought I saw something. But I didn't, so, let's drop it."
"Wait, wait, wait. You can't build it up like that and just drop it. I saw the look on your face, man. You was white as a ghost, son. Something had you spooked, and I don't have you pegged as the kinda guy that gets spooked often. So, what'd you see?"
David let out a half groan, half sigh.
"Alright, before I tell you, remember, I didn't really see anything. I k
now that n-"
"Right, right, right. You didn't really see it, but you saw it. Spit it out."
"Alright. I saw...Mick. But he was...dead. But he wasn't dead. He was dead, but he was walking around."
"Like a zombie?"
"Yeah, exactly. Like a zombie. His eyes were watching me, but it's like they weren't really seeing me. It was like they were seeing through me. Like a dead person's eyes. But they were still following me around. And he'd been lying in the tub. In water, and he was bloated and blue, and he stood up out of the tub, all naked and bloated to come at me. To come after me. Like he wanted to hurt me."
David finished, and Jim sat in silence, considering what he'd just heard. The silence seeped into the van more and more, until it became prominent once again. David waited for a response from Jim, but it never came. Suddenly, a raspy, screech emanated from Michelle in the back seat. David sat up behind the wheel, more alert than he had been. Unable to turn away from his view of the road, he did his best to keep an eye on Jim who'd turned around in his seat to check on the prostitute.
"Is she okay?"
"I-I guess so. Yeah."
"She's still breathing?"
A pause.
"Yeah. Same as she has been."
"Christ. That scared the shit outta me. We need to hurry."
David sped up from 65 to 70 mph, speeding along the dark back woods road faster than ever before.
Jim returned to the view out of the passenger side window. One moment red forestry. The next, darkness. In a split moment of red light, he sore he saw movement. A human figure in the woods. But in the next, there was only darkness, and they were down the road. Maybe he was seeing things now.
"So you saw a dead Mickey, huh?"
Surprised by the abruptness of the question, it took David a moment to answer.
"Yep. That's what I saw."
"That doesn't sound so bad. You know how many times I've wanted to see that?"
David started laughing, and then Jim joined him.
"That's pretty good, man. Play your cards right, and maybe you'll get to see it for yourself one day."
Jim laughed at that too. David turned to him to laugh, but instead of finding himself face to face with Jim, he was eye to eye with Michelle.
"Shit!" exclaimed David as his control over the van wavered a bit.
"Ah!" Jim cried out in return, half in response to the prostitute suddenly appearing next to him, half in response to the now swerving van.
Michelle stayed like that for a moment, slack jawed and staring at David as if dumbfounded.
"Michelle, sweetheart, we're taking you to the hospital. Just lay back down and you'll be fine."
As soon as he spoke Michelle began thrashing about in her makeshift straitjacket, groaning and grunting just inches from his face. David struggled to maintain a grip on the wheel and keep her at arm's length at the same time.
"Jim! Help me!"
"Hey! Michelle, it's okay! C'mon lay back down!"
Jim turned completely in his seat now to grab the prostitute by the shoulders in an attempt to subdue her. For a brief moment, she seemed to calm down. Noticing this, David turned to see for himself.
"You got her?"
"Yeah, I think so."
As David turned back to the road, he saw a small figure, a boy standing in the middle of the road, illuminated by the high beams of the van.
"FUCK! HANG ON!"
Unable to brake at that speed and distance, David forcibly twisted the wheel, narrowly missing the boy in the road, but sending the van careening into the opposite lane. In the backseat, Michelle began to thrash about wildly again as Jim attempted to calm her. Just as David began to steer the van back into the right lane, the front left tire of the van blew out, causing the van to veer and careen yet again. Unable to regain control, David watched helplessly as the van tore off the road and through light brush, eventually flying off into a deep embankment, the night flashing red all around them.