Chapter 9

Her step-father had always warned her when she was young to never drink. It was an adult thing, he said, and that only adults were allowed to do it. Everlyn was far too young, and he cared for her too much to see her life wasted away on a can of beer, or a shot of tequila, or a mix of various beverages that were just as harmful. She had promised she wouldn't drink.

But that promise was broken when she was twelve. She was a curious girl, and the bottle of grape Smirnoff was left open on the counter for all's viewing. It amused her seeing the carbon bubbles float to the top as if it was soda –in fact, the entire thing reminded her of soda. It even came in those fancy bottles that she would see in old commercials and ads. It even had a cool looking bottle cap! And, furthermore, when her hands were finally grabbed hold of it, it even tasted just a little bit like soda. She ended up chugging half the bottle in her inquisitive thirst, and then casually drank the rest.

When Luke had found out, he was furious. Ten quick smacks to the thighs, hard enough to enlighten the area in a bright red and hard enough to sting. He then gave her a long talk about how it was not allowed for a young girl to drink such beverages. He had even reminded Everlyn about her promise. She nodded and rubbed her back end, teary eyed and sniffling, and said that she had understood.

She broke that promise again when turned sixteen. She was to spend the night with a friend, who had thrown her a surprise party and invited many of Ever's other friends. Luke was not there –their celebration had been earlier in the day. Right now was a girls' night. Ramie had brought over a few cases of adult beverages. Ever was reluctant, but the smell was intoxicating as was the peer pressure from her friends.

She had drank that night, and had gone out with her friends and had done undesirable things. Her friends had found a group of boys and, in their drunken stupor, flirted with them. The boys hung around and they were a great addition to the party to most. Some of the girls went off into dark and quiet places with a few of the boys. Ever had refused, having at least half a brain then to know that Luke would never appreciate her being alone with a guy. But her friends and the boys had insisted –they were deaf to her spurns and rejections. She kept refusing though, and said she'd sit back and wait in the car.

That was when they, the boys - and her friends included- started gaining on her. They didn't insult her or called her names. Instead, they purred sweet compliments and cooed their adoration and their desires. They reached for her, trying to tug her into their night of drunken fun –and "fun" of which was not the public kind. Ever was flustered and angered from their touches. She kept smacking their hands away, and with a fit, gathered her belongings and headed for the car. One of the boys stopped her, then, and made inappropriate advances. Frightful, she turned the other way.

"Come on, Ev," smiled Ramie. "It's just a little fun. It's your birthday! Your sweet sixteen. Just let loose, will ya?" When Ever had refused, the drunk teen's face turned from playful and high to angered and irritated. "Come on, Ev. Don't do this to me. If you were my friend you'd want this."

"If you were my friend, you'd understand that I don't." Crying now, smacking away the hands of her tyrants, she ran away from the laughter, away from the insults, and away from her drunk party. Once she reached her house, she was overheated and immediately threw herself into the bathroom where she spewed herself into a hung-over sleep. By morning she sobbed her sins into Luke's shoulder. He called her friends' parents and tried to soothe his daughter.

"I'm just glad you're safe," he said to her. Disappointment laced his voice, but Ever knew that was to be expected. "Ever, no more drinking." And so she never did. The thought never occurred to her again.

Until years later.

She stood outside a bar. It wasn't the nicest pub. It was a bit run-down and its neon lights flickered in the dying daylight. Some of the windows were musky and had cracks in it. Weeds grew in between the sidewalk cracks and along the entry walk. She didn't mind though. It was late, and she was tired, and she had been unsuccessful in that day's endeavors. She couldn't find a job that would accept her, and she needed a place to dampen her worries if only for a little while. She was 34 now –a woman on her own.

She stepped into the place. It smelled damp, full of sweat and alcohol and dirty drunks, but it was busy enough to show that the broken down exterior was nothing to hint at on the inside. She approached a stool near the front of the bar and settled herself upon the cracked red leather of the cushion. The sensation of sitting down and resting her feet felt refreshing and amazing. Raking her gaze carefully over the bottles on the opposite counter –a sort of menu, if you will- the sight of all the alcohol bottles somehow nauseated her. But she searched still, desperate to have some sort of escape.

"What will it be, Miss?" the bartender cocked his head to the side. Ever had already showed him her ID.

Ever thought it over carefully. "Chocolate milk." The bartender nodded and went to the back fridge.

Half of her sighed in relief, happy to have stuck to her promise this time. The other half of her regretted it –this was her chance to escape the chaos that has been haunting her most recently despite the passing of several years.

Raccoon City. Was it all a dream? It happened so long ago, but every time she closed her eyes she could see it: the yellow stained teeth of the walking dead –soon stained red from their fleeing meals. By the time she could escape, there was hardly anything the whole of the police department could do. Most of the S.T.A.R.S team were dead or MIA from the Arklay Mansion incident. Ever sometimes pondered if the mansion and the outbreak were connected, but she didn't want to think about that now. Who would want to? She had seen enough blood and rotting flesh to last her a lifetime.

Umbrella. They had covered it up though, did they not? Some sort of nuclear accident. Of course it was an accident, stupid, Everlyn thought to herself. The dead can't walk again. The radiation was just messing with you. Once she was able to make it out of the city and into fresher air, she felt better, and the hallucinations had stopped –or that is what she would like to believe. After all, there's no such thing as zombies. Raccoon City was no longer on the map.

The bartender quickly returned with a glass of chocolate milk. Ever nodded her gratitude and began idly sipping at the brown drink. She would not think of that nightmare now. She had made it out of the city within the last evacuation hour. It was done. And she was free. Whatever happened back there was not her problem anymore.

She lost track of the hours she spent there. Past due to retire back to her apartment, with her glass of milk long gone, she still sat on the stool. What was there really to go back to? No one. Nothing. Just a ran-down beaten apartment. There was no peace now after the Raccoon City incident. Her life was now full of the struggle to have decently paying jobs, and trying to keep up with rent. She was currently unemployed, having no family, no friends. So why not just sit on this stool until the day ends? Staring into nothing and at no one.

"Is there something I can help you with, Miss?"

Frowning, she shook her head. "No, Sir, I had only wanted the chocolate milk."

Looking up, she had found it wasn't the bartender that had addressed her, but another man. He was clean shaven, though with the slightest hint of a shadow on his chin. His hair was dark, his eyes a bright mild green. He had a kind face, a familiar face, though a face Ever couldn't place. He wore a jacket over a flannel shirt and dark denim jeans. The man set himself down next to her. "Bet that chocolate milk was absolutely refreshing." He cracked her a smile, showing perfectly white teeth. "Want me to get you something? I can pay for it. Drink, food, anything?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Ever murmured.

The man nodded. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't be at the bar by yourself."

Ever laughed. How could she not? This was so by the book. "No, Sir. I'm here with someone."

"Oh? Who?"

"My husband."

"Really? Shouldn't be surprised that you're married. Where is he at?"

"Oh," Ever swiveled her head around, trying to point the blame on someone. "He's… he's around."

This time the man had chuckled. Ever pressed her hand against the blade she kept in her pocket.

"You don't have to lie to me. And I'm not going to be some creep at the bar, ya know."

"You've already begun the flirting. How long until your gang buddies show up?"

"Very funny," he chuckled again. He held out a hand. "The name's John. Doctor John Reynolds."

"A doctor?" Ever raised a brow.

"Yes. I work with the Chimera Corporation, medical branch." he seemed to falter on the word 'medical', though quickly covered it up with a clearing of the throat.

Ever shivered. "Chimera, huh." It was a company similar to what Umbrella had been. Their products were everywhere in this town, and they even ran the local pharmacy.

She didn't know what compelled her to ask this. Perhaps mentally comparing the two companies merely did the trick. "So, do you know what happened to Raccoon City?"

The doctor's jaw clenched. "It happened so many years ago. Think the news had said a nuclear accident. The entire city's dust now. Why?"

Ever smiled, "No reason. Just curious. Thank you."

John studied her for a moment. "I wouldn't be thinking too much on it, if I were you."

"Why not?"

"I just wouldn't," there was an edge to Dr. Reynold's voice. Ever looked at him with narrowed eyes. He knows something, she thought.

"I was a resident of Raccoon City, thank you."

John's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Really?" He glanced her up and down. "You made it out before they shut the gates, then, huh? Lucky you."

"They didn't have to shut the gates," Ever gritted her teeth. "Umbrella could've saved many lives."

John said nothing.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, John," Ever stood up, preparing to leave.

"I never did get your name," John said as he slowly looked up at her. His eyes were wide and sincere, his brows raised. Ever could have sworn she'd seen him before somehow.

"What kind of medical things are you a doctor of?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line before answering, "Viral."

Ever looked him up and down for a moment. "I'm Ever," she said, finally answering his question. She then turned away and walked out of the bar.

She looked up at the sky when she walked out. Shouldering her bag, she sighed under the stars' intense gaze. There was something beautiful about this town that Raccoon City did not have. Amidst the bright city lights and loud traffic noises of Raccoon, there was barely a peace of mind unless you go to the calm suburban neighborhood. In this town, you can walk under the stars in the peace and quiet no matter the time of night. It was beautiful, serene, and the stars themselves were like colorful dots of paint on a midnight canvas, a beautiful dab of Van Gogh's work. It made her smile. The small things were so wonderful.

She wouldn't appreciate another small thing for quite some time.

She approached her car –a small silver thing. She received it some years back. Her old car was broken down, dead. Luke had bought her a new one –a used one- but a new car nonetheless. Opening the driver door and sliding inside, she sighed, closing her eyes and trying to imagine how life could be like if Luke was still here. The damn monster ate him up! But the common-sense part of Ever said this wasn't true. It was the radiation from the incident that got him.

Ever slid and turned her keys into the ignition. The car hummed, sputtered, but didn't start. She turned her keys again. It throttled, but wouldn't start. Letting out a frustrated sigh, the woman leaned back in her seat and groaned. Great.

A movement in her rearview mirror caught her attention. There had been a shadow, a large shadow, moving. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to study the thing in the mirror. It looked like cloth moving. That was odd. Did she have any cloth in the car? All her windows were rolled up. Whether she did have cloth or not, the possibility of the wind shifting things around in her car was debunked and out of the question. Watching it still, it moved once more. A pair of eyes were then reflected back, brightly colored with the whites clearly showing.

Ever gasped. She reached to the side to unbuckle herself.

A pained gasp escaped her lips as something sharp was dug into her neck. She struggled, but soon her movements were sluggish and weak. She tried hitting her attacker's head with the side of her fist, but her fist may as well have been a teddy bear. The world began to blur. She could hear her heart beat in her ears. The world faded to black.

Voices were murky. That's all she had known for a moment or two. Murky unintelligible voices. It was a struggle to open her eyes, so all she could do was lay back and listen. The more awake she became, the clearer the voices became, but nothing made sense to her. Nothing could reach her groggy mind.

"Commencing project Genetrix-R."

Ever found that she could not move. Something heavy weighted around her ankles and her wrists. She groaned.

"Retrieve virus sample 844, TL variant." There were clinking sounds. Footsteps. Some shuffling. "Injecting sample 844 GX-TL into Host 481. Host 481 shall furthermore be known as Genetrix-R-, or GX-R-1 for simple classification." There was a slight pinching on one side of her neck. Ever groaned again, a bit louder than last, though it either went unnoticed or ignored. When the pinching subsided, a burning sensation throbbed at her injection wound.

Then, sudden pain wracked her body. The burning had spread all throughout her being. She throbbed, she burned, and she itched. She writhed and screamed, but the restraints held her back. The sides of her neck had hurt more than anything else. She could feel the deep searing pain from her flesh parting and ripping, flaring open and frothing with blood. The dark, then, started to blind her. White hot heat danced across her vision.

Her fingers curled. Her fists clenched, but that did not stop the nails from growing and her finger bones protruding through the tips of her fingers.

Then, suddenly, the pain began to melt away. She lie there, panting, frightened, and confused.

"GX-R-1 underwent immediate mutation," stated a man. He seemed to be speaking into something. "The finger tips extended beyond the skin, forming claws, and what appears to be gill-like structures had opened up on the widths of her neck. Three slits on each side." There were more shuffling sounds. "Relocating GX-R-1 into incubation chamber 75-D. Subject will then enter a coma-like stasis. We shall proceed to relocate her afterwards into the testing facility when proper conditions are met."

There was a click. A tape had stopped recording. A man chuckled. Ever could almost hear a smirk in his tone of voice. "Well, men, I'm sure if Mr. Wesker were still with us today, then he would be damn pleased."

At first, Ever was confused as to who Mr. Wesker was. Familiarity rang in her head. Though, the confusion was soon replaced with anger and rage. Wesker? Captain Wesker? Did he have something to do with this?! He's alive? She shook her head, struggling against her restraints. No. He's dead.

"GX-R-1 is active, Sir!"

"Put her under."

The sounds had faded. Her rage faded. She was put back into an undisturbed sleep.

Ever's eyes shot open. The world swayed back and forth, and crawled slowly past her. She closed her eyes again, not bothering to watch the ground move beneath her. She didn't want to get sick again. She had already felt queasy.

There was a muffled voice, distorted by static and the mechanical transfer of sound –though it was clear enough. The voice was familiar to her, as familiar as the faces in her dream –memories, now, as that is what they truly were. Her head felt too full and uncomfortable, which clashed with the feeling of her empty yet nauseated stomach, and as such she could not fathom well much of anything. But she could not escape the voice through the folds of her sickened mind, and the sound penetrated her ears quite loudly as if the voice had been right there beside her ear all along. Another voice responded to it, clearer than the mechanical distortion, and sounded just as close.

"Meeting point just beyond Dining Hall E?" Snake. Ever shivered as memories of his rage flooded back to her. She did not want to be near this man.

"Sounds good. I'll reach the point shortly," the voice without a face had said. Though, only now, did Ever recognize it was the voice of Ocelot. Her heart sped up as desperation clawed at her.

"How much time do we have left?" Cowboy, now.

"Two hours," replied Snake. "Two hours before the doors close."

"I reckon Little Miss Ever here ought to be the only one." Ever could almost hear the frown in Cowboy's voice.

"Wouldn't surprise me," grunted Snake. "She's not a survivor. She's a test subject."

"What would it matter?" Ocelot's gruff voice broke through again. "Subject, survivor, they're all victims."

"You ever think the big guys sent us down here as suicide?" Cowboy's voice broke. "Sent us down here to get rid of us? These here Chimera scientists, whatever we do won't stop 'em. Whether we rescue survivors or not, it won't dent them much."

"Not much of a point to do this," agreed Snake.

"We're here to extract who we can for the main purpose of distributing the samples of the new cure," Ocelot reminded them. "Stop the process. Stop the growth."

"They won't ever be the same."

"No, but it's a start."

"And what if the cure doesn't work?" Snake's voice was impatient now. "What if we just bring back a whole bunch of infected –various levels of, mind you- and the antivirus fails. We're gonna have a whole group of monsters on our hands. It's suicide either way."

"I doubt they're going to have them run free. Not until it's actually confirmed of their cure."

Cowboy's voice softened. It did not lower into a whisper, but there was sympathy in his voice. "I worry for Ever here," he said. "The thought's been occurin' to me. Ever's so far along in her mutations. It ain't gonna be long before she goes above Level B. If she continues…."

"That's why we have to get her and any other remaining survivor out as fast as we can. Time is our true enemy here."

The voices blinked out.

"Happy birthday to you," the group sang. Ever couldn't keep back the chuckles. She wasn't expecting this. "Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Ever, happy birthday to you!"

Rebecca lowered the cake in front of her. It was small, and held one white-and-blue striped candle. Jill placed a matching hat on top of Ever's head.

"Really, guys, you didn't have to do this," the blonde sighed.

"Oh, we know," Rebecca chimed, smiling. "But we did it anyway."

Ever smiled at the two. Lately Chief Irons and Wesker had been putting her through so much filing and paperwork that she had nearly forgotten that her birthday was approaching. It pleased her to have such caring friends.

Friends.

Her eyes snapped open again. No one was talking this time. She was sitting, too, against the wall.

Friends.

Where were they now –Jill and Rebecca? Where was Wesker? Chris? Barry? She could barely think past their departure for the Arklay Mansion. It was just one giant black-out between then and her capture with small flashes of the Raccoon City incident in-between. She knew not long after that mission they were welcoming a new cop into the department. How was he?

And where's Ocelot?

A cool dampness dabbed at her forehead. It felt refreshing. She hadn't realized it at the time, but her entire body had been burning up with fever and injury. Her body was sticky with blood –both crusted and fresh, and she was as red. Horribly red. Not purely red, but it may as well have been the worst sunburn ever. She was overheated, and her skin was hot.

Her gaze flickered over to Cowboy, who was the one putting the cloth on her head, and she gave him an appreciative smile –or at least what she could of one.

"Yeah, ya gon' be alright." Cowboy returned her smile. "Just had to stop for a uno momento. Ain't gonna be long now, and we'll then take ya to Ocelot. Head out to the rendezvous and get the hell out of Dodge, yeah? Sound nice?" Ever didn't answer him. Cowboy sat down beside her. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small flask. He held it to her lips. "It's water. You're probably done past dehydrated." Ever did not make a move. He parted her lips with the rim of the flask and trickled some water into her mouth. She swallowed, the cool yet warm liquid a blessing to her cracked and dry throat. "See? Gon' be alright."

"Wha…" Ever attempted. "What happened to Raccoon City?"

Cowboy blinked and cocked his head to the side. "Well," he began. "There was a vast viral outbreak. The entire city had to go up in ash."

"What kind of viral outbreak?" she wheezed.

Cowboy pressed his lips into a fine line, "The kind that you're seeing in this here facility, Ever."

"How?" She closed her eyes. So it wasn't a nuclear incident. "And why?"

"A company called Umbrella was making some advanced biological weaponry. The project got out of hand at one of their secret laboratories underneath the Arklay Mansion up near the mountains. Then, it spread to the city. Raccoon City is gone now, as is Umbrella, but other companies have been continuing Umbrella's dirty work and the Black Market has been getting a kick out of it. Chimera," he gestured to the facility. "They're one of the underground Umbrella-wanna-be's. They made this damn maze. They made you."

"Why would they do this? This is… this is wrong."

"Yeah, well, that original virus –along with so many others- is the number one seller on the Black Market, and the number one form of terrorism as of late. Money is the root of all evil, don' let anybody tell ya different."

"I want to get out," Ever rasped. "I don't want to be the monster they want me to be." The journal weighed heavy in her pocket.

"And you won't be, Ever. You'll make it out of here. We're gon' help you."

She tried shaking her head. The cloth slid down her face slightly. "Just shoot me," she scoffed, dry chuckling a bit. "It's a quick and easy route."

"Sorry, ma'am, but we can't do that. Not yet." He patted her hand. "Not until you turn."

"I'll do it," this barely came out as a whisper. "And then it will be too late, and I'll kill you all."

"We're aware. Trust us. We have protocols. But we also have our mission," Cowboy said softly. "And that's to get you out of here first."

Ever didn't even remember falling asleep again. This time there were no odd dreams or forgotten memories to mark the passage of time. She was being carried again by the two men. Fresh blood covered the both of them, but a quick sniff told her it was the blood of the infected instead of their own. They were not injured. The relief brought another wave of drowsiness over her.

"Might not wanna fall asleep again, Miss," Cowboy said softly in her ear. "Just up ahead we gon' meet up with Kitty, ya hear?"

Snake grunted.

"Kitty," Ever echoed.

"He means Ocelot," Snake mumbled, though it was clear enough to hear.

Friends.

"I don't feel good," Ever rasped. "So thirsty."

"We'll get you some water when we get to the other side of this room," Cowboy told her. They approached a set of heavy metal doors. Ever recognized these doors as being storage chamber doors –the rooms that marked the passage and transitioning of one floor to the other. Was Ocelot really waiting on the other side on the floor just beyond? For some reason, excitement and anticipation flooded through her. She had missed Ocelot's taunts. It's more welcoming than Snake's constant glare of hatred and disapproval, and though Cowboy was nice she still preferred the company of the one who she had fought alongside with.

Snake had let go of her when they arrived at the doors. He punched in some numbers on the keypad. Hope filled her for the first time in ages as the doors began to hiss. They were going to meet up with Ocelot and leave! She'll make it out of here. She'll make it out of this hell, and she'll get to see Ocelot and experience what the outside of the facility is like with the entire team. Furthermore, she was going to be healed….

The doors hissed completely open finally. "Well," Cowboy cleared his throat. "Maybe you wouldn't have to wait for that water, Miss Ever. I'm pretty sure there's plenty here to help get ya hydrated again. More than enough."

The entire storage chamber was flooded.

((Well here's chapter 9!

Now, summer break is approaching and I don't have much internet access out of school. Therefore, another absence may be in place. I'll continue writing and posting new chapters of this when I can. I am so appreciative of your guys' patience. Honestly, trying to finish this thing with what little time and resources I have is a real pain and piece of work sometimes. .

I wanna start dedicating this fan-fiction to Johnclaw Dragonhelm. He's been supporting me since the very beginning, and just talking with him serves as a great motivation and inspiration. Thank you, Johnclaw, for all the help you've given me and for being a friend. ~ST99))