Zarbok – You had every reason to be pissed off, but I hope the Pack will soon regroup. As for this story, there should still be a few loops to go!
Rain – thanks for the review! Sorry about killing one of your favorite characters... I can be a bit of a Rebecca fan too. Is there anyone in particular you don't want me to kill off? I tried to update as fast as I could but my internet connection's been on the blink again – please don't hurt me!
Chapter 9- Weaknesses
I found solace in solitude, hiding away in the empty kitchen. The sun had disappeared into the night, and the glowing numbers on the clock told me it was almost nine. Time sure had gone fast.
When I was younger, I had the rather odd yet strangely romantic desire to die in my prime- okay, so maybe just after leaving my prime. My mother, who worked as a nurse at the local hospital on night shift, would often come home tired and depressed, bringing with her stories of elderly people who had suffered strokes or falls. People who, despite all their accomplishments, had lost control of both their lives and their bladders.
As if incontinence itself wasn't embarrassing enough.
I didn't like the idea of being waited upon, of being helpless. I would rather be dead – it would be like being dead, anyway. At least if I were dead, I could keep my pride. And so the idea of dying before that happened seemed wildly appealing.
I was an odd child.
But then things like this happened. Things where people were untimely ripped from life. And then I would automatically think that they were too young- whether they were 20, 30, 40, 50, 60 or even upwards of 70. That it was not their proper time.
Hah, proper time. Like there is such a thing.
My mind is full of a great number of contradictions.
There was a gentle thump of footsteps that stirred me from my pensive musings. I went back into the hallway, seeing Claire as she finished her descent of the stairs. Her eyes were heavy when they fell on me, and for a brief second I could feel the rush of emotions that hid behind her determined façade.
"We have to stay here until tomorrow," she said quietly. "Rowing off the island in this light is too dangerous. We'll catch the mail boat- it comes past on Wednesdays at eight in the morning."
I nod.
"It's hard, you know?" Her eyes were bright as she searched my features. "I hadn't spoken to her for a while, and now she's dead. Dead, because the others didn't tell us they were gone. Stupid."
"Try not to blame anyone until we know what happened," I advised.
It was her turn to nod. Claire took a few deep breaths with closed eyes. When she opened them again, she was in a business frame of mind. She gave me another, shorter nod before turning on toe to go back up the stairs. I watched her until she disappeared from sight.
So, we're staying for the night.
In a remote house with a dead body.
It sounded like something from a bad horror movie. Sighing, I went back into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil. My mother the nurse had a strong belief in the calming effect of tea, and always offered it to her friends when they were distraught. Like a charm, the warm liquid seemed to melt away their tears.
I checked the fridge, seeing if any products were still useable. A large 2-litre container of milk said that by tomorrow it would be past its best-by, so I thought that would be okay to put in the tea. Everything else I decided to leave.
The last thing we needed was to get food poisoning.
Barry slipped into the kitchen just as the water finished boiling.
"Tea?" I offered.
"Sure," he replied heavily, leaning against the bench. He watched as I searched for the tea bags. "Two sugars and milk."
I handed him a warm cuppa. Barry didn't want to look at me, and so instead he concentrated his gaze on the cupboard opposite him. Respecting his silence, I made myself a cup of tea –also with sugar and milk – and drank it quietly.
I was halfway through my cuppa before he said, still not looking at me, "She's a good kid. It's a pity you didn't get a chance to know her. A real nice girl. Our medic, you know. I felt like she was one of my daughters."
He took a sip of the tea.
"And it's just not right. How did someone know about this place? And why would they leave without a word just like that, leaving Rebecca and Sherry by themselves with no way to contact us because the mail boat only comes on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays, the row boat was on the other side of the lake and there's no phone reception. That's not the way we work! We're supposed to be looking out for each other! After all we've been through together, we're family now."
He looked at me, his eyes a boiling mess of confusion and despair.
"I just can't understand it."
"I can't either," I told him softly.
I left him in the kitchen alone, catching a glimpse of Claire's yellow t-shirt with a heap of material in her arms as she went into the lounge. Though I was confused by this, I ignored it and went upstairs.
It took a lot of effort to get me up there. I didn't want to see her again.
Henare, who was still in his khaki guard uniform, was standing at the top of the stairs talking to Chris in hushed voices. They barely acknowledged me when I went through the middle of their conversations, but I didn't stay to listen to what they were talking about. If they were busy, it was fine by me.
I found Jill in Rebecca's room, kneeling beside her fallen friend's bed. Rebecca had been gently lifted and place on the bed, but the white bedspread only covered her body up to her neck. The pretty face looked restful. I hope she had found peace.
Jill was on the ground, Rebecca's blood staining her knees and hands as she scrubbed furiously at the floor. She was so involved in her work that she didn't notice me enter the room. Tear tracks glistened down her pale cheeks but her blue eyes were filled with a steely anger.
I was suddenly very glad I was on her side for this particular venture.
She caught sight of me eventually. "Hey."
"Hey." I felt awkward. "Are you... are you okay?"
Jill gestured to the bed. "I'm better than her," she said in voice that was strained and bitter. "But I'll be fine. I'll be fine. I just couldn't leave her life staining the floor."
I kneeled beside her, careful not to get any of the blood on my clothes and took a towel rag. Together we washed the floor with determined strokes. I thought that as I did so, Rebecca's soul was traveling to heaven. She was traveling faster the more blood we cleared up.
For some reason, the notion cheered me.
Except when grieving, I was doubtful about the idea of heaven and afterlife. Usually, I believed that when you were dead, you were dead. That was it, the end of the line. But I could not believe for one second that the cheery vitality or unchecked hate people can have would just evaporate, especially when faced with a death. It was at these times that I accepted with out question angels, heaven, hell, religion.
Jill thanked me with her eyes when the worst of the blood was lifted. I smiled reassuringly back at her. We'll get them. I promise, we'll get them and stop them from doing anything like it again.
She left me alone in the room for a second. Rebecca's bedroom... a room that would probably never be used again. I wondered if the girl would take it upon herself to haunt the room. I wondered if she would be a friendly spirit or a malevolent poltergeist. But it was all speculation. I didn't believe in ghosts.
Although, I did have an experience when dealing with some, shall we say, less legal substances in which I thought I was talking with a ghost. I've never touched drugs again. It scared the shit out of me.
"Well, wherever you are Rebecca... I hope you're happy now."
Simple, but heartfelt.
I suffered the same terrible affliction my mum did – one that proved incredibly dangerous in her line of work. It was a strong belief in and manifestation of the idea that you didn't need to know a person to feel their loss.
Possibly it's one of the reasons I have such a bleak future in the viral universe. I know for a fact its one of the reasons I accepted Alice's offer.
When I walked through the door for the last time, when I glanced at the woman I had never known for the last time – wishing only everlasting happiness on her – I could've sworn she was smiling.
She can't have been... but it's a nice thought.
I went to the clean bathroom and thoroughly washed my hands. Once again my appearance appeared in the mirror to spite me. This time I didn't even bother picking out the flaws. What use would it do? It wouldn't change them.
On my way back to the lounge I picked up Chris and Henare. When we got there, Barry had made everyone tea and was sitting in a chair. Claire and Sherry were leaning against each other on the couch, their lower halves covered by a thick blanket. Other blankets were in a heap on the ground- what Claire had taken down earlier, I guess.
It looked like no one wanted to be alone in their rooms tonight.
"What are we going to do?" Claire asked, her hand resting on Sherry's flaxen hair.
"We'll have to go check out the Umbrella base," the older Redfield said matter-of-factly. "See if we can find the others. Obviously something's gone terribly wrong."
"So does anyone know where this facility really is?" I asked. All I had got out of Corwin was that it was somewhere in the Marlborough Sounds. Like that narrowed it down.
"Yeah," Jill said. She drew my attention to the bag I had seen her gathering files into in the morning – was it only this morning? It seemed like years ago. "Carlos got them and gave them to Williams – you know, our boss- who gave them to us. It's not far from here, actually."
"So anyone know what we'll find in there?" Matheson glared out the window forbiddingly. "'Cause I for one don't think it'll be a welcome wagon."
I reached toward the unsightly bulge the rolled-up files made in my jeans pocket and waved them like a trophy. "Hopefully these will tell us something."
The AVO's all looked at me, stunned.
"You got them?" Chris gushed "But I thought Wesker would have taken them from you when he got you in the car park!"
"He did," I admitted, "but HCF gave them back to me, minus a few. They seemed to want me to go to the Umbrella lab – looks like at the moment there's a common goal. That's why I'm not a blob of tomato sauce at the moment."
"Well, that's not suspicious at all," Claire commented sarcastically. "What are we up against now, indestructible zombie bears with nine-foot tongues and iron claws?"
"HCF just let you go? Just like that?" I was the subject of Jill's piercing gaze.
"They want me to mess up a project Umbrella's working on and bring them back any important looking documents... said I'd be monitored so I'd better not betray them..."
Oh fudge. I hope telling AVO all about it didn't come under the heading of 'betrayal'.
"What?!" she screeched. "You're wearing a wire?"
"Not that I know of."
"We're being followed?"
I looked around uncomfortably. Why hadn't I remembered Corwin's warning before? "Again, not that I know of."
"Why didn't you tell us this before?" Barry demanded.
"It wasn't like I got a chance! I went straight from the meeting to the doctor, and straight from there to here. Matheson was with me almost the entire time, but him taking me to you lot was the last thing on my mind. So when he dragged me here, I was more than a little surprised. And so... I forgot all about it."
Rather a lame excuse. Why did I always forget important things?
"Nothing we can do about it now," Sherry commented. Her eyes were closing despite her best efforts to stay awake.
An astute comment from a severely tired and shell-shocked teen.
"She's right," Jill verified. "Stick to the present. So HCF thinks we'll be doing them a favour if we take Umbrella down. Look on the bright side; at least we'll only be dealing with Umbrella."
"And hey," said a visibly brightened Chris, "if there's no HCF, then there's no Wesker after us!"
"Unless he's the one following to make sure Ruth doesn't betray us."
Thank you, Barry the pessimist.
"Wesker's too high up in HCF to be assigned child-care duties."
"Child? Who are you calling child?"
"We're getting off track," Matheson observed. "Stick to the problem at hand. We need to find out what's in Umbrella's project. I mean, I can pick up a lot from work, but everyone's tight-lipped about what Umbrella is up to now."
"Alice said it was something to do with kids when she contacted me," I said, remembering the conversation from a life-time ago.
"Fetuses, actually." Barry's mouth set in a grim line. "They were doing something with human fetuses."
Euw.
I handed out some stacks of paper to the AVO's. Time to see what the fuss was all about.
The information the files had was scanty and disappointing. After all the drama about them I at least expected pictures and detailed plans of some evil idea.
Bet Corwin filched all those files.
The stack I had were sheets full of testing results, written in a cramped, loopy shorthand and riddled with scientific jargon. Even if I could decipher the horrible handwriting I doubted I would understand much. It all seemed to be about cell division and replication. I shared my thoughts with the others.
"Genetics? Well that can't be good," said Claire.
Chris had personnel files- my brother's included. They were of the team that went to investigate the Hive, none of which returned. I have reason to believe that the STARS gang came across them when they joined the mansion party later.
Maybe they came and put the zombie-replica of my brother out of his misery.
"There's a scribbled post-it note," Chris told us, "It says the files are only here because research 'Pancreas' might provide opportunities to find out what really happened the night the virus was spilled. It's very vague. I think someone put them in without really knowing what they were doing."
Claire also had testing results and what looked like a list of codes.
"No," Jill said, looking over her shoulder, "that's a list of names! They must be all the mothers of the unborn fetuses."
Jill and Barry said their files required calculus and a diabolic mind combined to get any sense of.
Henare had better luck- also personnel files. They were those of an Ashford A, Ashford A PhD, Birkin W PhD.
Sherry gave a start when she heard the last name. "Daddy?" she whispered.
I felt like smacking myself in the head. Birkin! Of course! How could I have missed that? Doctor William Birkin was married to that scientist, Annette, and they had a daughter called Sherry.
I had heard through the grapevine that Birkin had chosen the path of G-virus. He was very definitely dead. And so were the Ashford duo. Oh, there had been a lot of talk about those disturbing twins around the HCF water-cooler.
"Why are their files there?" Jill wondered. "Okay, I can see why Alexia's and Birkin's if the research was related to their own, but Alfred? What the hell?"
"It is Alfred Ashford's, isn't it?" Barry asked. "Not Alexander Ashford?"
"Alfred," Henare clarified. "The birth dates on the Ashford files mean it's the twins."
I cursed Corwin for censoring the files. It meant that we would be flying blind.
The papers slipped out my hand, but thankfully didn't go everywhere and create a big mess. I gathered them up with a faint blush, but no one seemed to have noticed. It was this uncoordination that resulted in some luck. A small, purple piece of paper that had previously been overlooked caught me eye.
I held it up, reading the neat writing in a small rounded script aloud.
"When an electron's orbit of the protons-neutrons is reversed, an electron of the same atom that can be miles away does the same."
The STARS looked at me in surprise, but I barely registered their glances. I stared at it, knowing it to be an extract from a paper on scientific progress.
"Do you know what this means?" my friend, a chemistry major, had whispered excitedly. "It means that basic, very basic telepathy is actually possible. It can't be used yet, oh no, and I doubt humanity will ever be able to communicate via electron orbit like you see in stories, but the parts of atoms can communicate no matter the distance! But only within a single atom – it has to be part of the whole."
I hadn't been as excited over this knowledge as my friend, thinking it knowledge for knowledge's sake. After all, what use did communicative electrons have, even if they're antics were fascinating? And I certainly hadn't expected to find it in Umbrella files.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Chris Redfield took the paper from my hands and looked at the writing, as if seeing it for himself would make it clearer.
I quickly brought the others up to speed with the little I knew, finishing by telling them, "Umbrella's wasting their time with research on this. It can't be used for anything."
They stared at the scrap in Chris's hand.
"Obviously it can be," said Jill quietly.
"Well," Matheson stated, "I'm curious to find out what they're doing if my boss feels threatened by it, but these don't tell us what we're up against. So, oh-fearless-leader, what do you suggest?"
Chris narrowed his eyes in mock anger at the slur on his love for leadership, but when he spoke he was jovial and lighthearted. "I guess we'll just have to be well-armed when we go to take down Umbrella tomorrow."
No one disagreed or protested. Tomorrow it is.
"We'll stay here for the night," Barry said, usurping Chris's power. "We can't get anywhere anyway. Tomorrow we'll take Rebecca's body to the morgue?"
Sherry sighed sleepily. "Cremation. She said she wanted to be cremated and the ashes used to grow her special healing herbs. She said a body would be full of nutrients for the plants, and then she'd be able to go on with her medical help even after her death."
Wow.
"Then cremated she shall be."
"What if they ask questions?" Jill asked.
"We'll think of something,'" answered Chris.
"And what about..." Jill mouthed 'Sherry'.
The men's eyes fell on the sleepy girl. Who could they leave her with and know she would be safe? Only one of us, and I didn't see anyone volunteering. Not because everyone really enjoyed risking their lives, but because no one wanted to be seen to weasel out.
Sort of the same reason why no one likes eating the last slice of cake.
"Maybe Claire could stay back?" Chris suggested. I could tell he was happy about having the chance of keeping his sister out of harms way.
"Not a chance," she shot back. Her eyes may have been closed but her spirit wasn't dulled by tiredness. "I'm not going to sit around while the people I care about are in danger."
As if thinking of something, she turned her head to look at me, her eyes open and searching. "Speaking of people I care about," she said more softly, "do you know if HCF has anyone in their charge called 'Steve Burnside'?"
I shook my head.
"Henare neither." She sighed. "I know they have him somewhere. I'm going to find him."
Suddenly her odd behavior when we went to Burnside High School made perfect sense. Despite her almost casual tone, it is obvious she cares a great deal for the man.
Out of pity, I told her, "Next time we're near an HCF mainframe, I'll try to see what I can find out. I'm not the world's best hacker, but sometimes, if you get lucky..."
"Thank you."
"We can discuss what we'll do about Sherry tomorrow," Jill murmured, her eye on the girl under discussion. Sherry was evidently asleep even as we talked. Either that or faking very well.
Barry agrees. "She's right. We all need our beauty sleep. Chris especially."
The default leader gave the smirking Barry an evil eye before giving into a short burst of laughter. "He's right, though," he conceded. "So don't wake me up until I look handsome."
"It'll be a while, then."
Gradually, the conversation petered out. Someone turned out the light but no one left the room. We each got blankets and picked a corner of the room to make our own for the night. Even though it was only just turning ten o'clock, the room was soon full of the sounds that came with sleep – a gentle snuffle there, a sigh, and the heavy rhythmic breaths.
Despite the trying day, sleep wouldn't come to me.
I rolled onto my stomach and saw an equally awake Chris gazing at the ceiling. His eyes seemed oddly blank from the angle. He was completely motionless.
For a while I just lay there, holding my breath and watching him, fearing he was dead. Then, finally, he sighed quietly. The movement of his chest as he reached for another breath was unmistakably clear.
I let out a breath of my own. Did you really think he was dead? Oh my god! I'm ashamed to be a part of you!
I really hate that inner voice.
It seems to love putting the boot in when I'm down.
I crawled over to the still man. "I'm going to go and keep watch," I whispered to him, "I can't sleep and with every second I'm getting edgier."
He nodded. "Good idea."
Not that there was much to watch, but at least my insomnia was proving to be useful. I set up camp in the kitchen, enlisting the help of tea to calm my nerves. After all, tea is known to have the opposite effect of coffee. I wasn't aiming to keep a lonely guard all night long - only until sleep embraced me.
It should have been boring work, but my thought process was working slowly and disjointedly.
I wonder what my friends are going to think... by tomorrow at ten they'll know something's wrong... I'm supposed to meet them at ten tomorrow…
... is it ten? Or is it one?
Imagine bleeding to death all by yourself...
... I wonder where Kavik is now... I hope he's doing okay...
... who killed her? Who could honestly kill someone like that? Were they working for HCF? HCF would definitely be able to find out their location… but why bother if I'm going to meet up with them and march towards certain doom in the next couple of days?
... maybe it was at eleven for an early lunch...
"You okay?"
Chris's voice was gentle, but it didn't stop me from jumping a distance that would have made an Olympic high jumper impressed. He grinned a bit to himself at my surprise, and even more so when he saw the faint pink of embarrassment rushing to colour my cheeks.
"I thought HCF trained their staff to be alert at all times?"
I muttered something about being out of practice and quickly took another gulp of tea.
"Will you be able to help out tomorrow?"
I looked at him, seeing his grayish eyes completely serious. "What do you mean?"
He looked away. "I know everyone I work with. Perhaps excluding my bosses. But I know the strengths and weaknesses of everyone on this team. For example, I know my sister Claire can use her temper to her advantage, but I know her weakness is that she can't back down from a fight. I know the same for Jill and for Barry, and as far as I know, Henare's only weakness is his inability to keep quiet. What about you?"
Yeah, what about me?
I stared at him for quite a while, thinking. All my faults rushed to fill the void:
I'm too cowardly
I'm too panicky
I'm too forgetful
I'm too curious
"I have many weaknesses," I managed.
"And what about your strengths?"
I glanced sharply at him, half expecting him to be making fun of me. But he knew that there was a time for joviality and a time for seriousness, and his face instead showed an indifferent curiosity.
"My strengths?"
"Your strengths."
I stared at him in dumbfounded horror. I have no strengths. That's why I'm a run of the mill employee. There's a reason I'm referred to as 'zombie chow' by people like Matheson.
There must be a reason Alice and STARS contacted you, another voice countered.
Because of my brother?
I can do some limited hacking. I know how to fight. I can Steal the Flag from the top HCF security team. I'm determined to get out with my skin intact. Surviving is the only thing that really matters to me.
"I'll get the job done," I finally tell him. "That is my strength. Whatever you ask me to do will get done."
(and there you have it. Before I begin on the next chapter, I must ask you one question: Do you want Sherry to stay in the fic? Or do you want her to stay behind? What do you think?)