Chapter 11

The first lion--the big male--leaps for me, luckily.

I say luckily because even being an undead lion he is no match for me. Gunfire explodes from all around, and the lion floats towards me through the air as if in slow motion. My fist flies forward and hits him right in the jaw, smashing it completely and knocking him to the ground.

" Not tonight, kitty." A lioness leaps out of nowhere and hit me in the side, bowling me over.

Sharp fangs sink into the flesh of my arm. It catches me completely by surprise.

" Mmmmrroaaaawwwwll! " The zombie lioness growls, explaining her feelings to me.

I bring up my other fist and hit her right between the eyes so hard my hand actually goes through her decaying skull.

I make a face and jump to my feet. " This is just sickening! "

Great. Now I'm going to have to wash up again. I swear, when I was training with Dad, he totally glossed over the whole subject of getting zombie goo all over your hands.

Somehow, the male lion has managed to stagger up. Even with his lower jaw hanging by mere threads from his mouth, he still attempts to tackle Rebecca.

She shoots him in the forehead with a magnum and that is the end of it.

Magnums, machine guns, grenade launchers…the others do not need my help to finish off the rest of the pride--within minutes their lifeless bodies litter the ground. And this time they do not get up.

Rebecca grimaces at the bloody body of a lioness killed by grenade launcher right at her feet. " See, this is why I hate T-virus! " She fumes, " Those poor lions! Not only do innocent people get infected, but innocent animals too! "

Steve nods his agreement. " Yeah. I'm pretty sure a normal pride of lions wouldn't have attacked us like that. Well, they might have, but once they heard the guns they would've hauled butt. Gee, what happened to the nice mutations, like Kitty? "

" Poor Kitty." Claire sighs, frowning as she reloads her automatic machine gun, " She was pretty fearsome to look at, but she was just like a big friendly dog. Actually, kind of like a mix between a dog and a cat. Too bad she didn't make it out of that base."

Steve sets a hand on her shoulder. " We don't know for sure that she didn't make it out. Maybe she did. Maybe she found someplace safe. We may never know."

I saw very little of the Kiticore beast they are talking about. All I remember is that it was a huge--emphasis on huge--lion-like creature with big, leathery bat wings and twin saber fangs. Apparently, it was friendly. Who would've guessed? Easy to tell it wasn't an Umbrella creation. I heard it had intelligence.

The last glimpse I caught of it was when it darted behind an earthmover in that underground cavern years ago.

Dad told me about the explosion. Though it is not impossible that the creature survived, the odds are strongly against it.

Dad. The memory has resurfaced, and now I feel like an ass all over again.

About the only thing I can do is just try my best to make this as quick and non-confrontational as possible.

Then something clicks; if the building we were just at was all a setup, then who set us up?

It's definitely not my Dad's style, and I would have sensed his presence ahead of time.

So who was it? Who else could've known we were going to arrive?

On top of that, who was the owner of that voice that woke me from my nap under the desk?

And if my mother and sister weren't in that building, where are they?

Disturbing questions.

Hopefully Sambabwia will yield some answers.

We reach the outskirts of the town without further incidence, despite all the nasties I detect lurking nearby. The majority haven't noticed us.

That's the way I'd like to keep it. As much as I enjoy a good smack-down with virus-infested mutations who think they're gods, I simply don't have the time for it now. I have to find my family before someone gets smart and nukes this place like they do all virus-contaminated areas.

As we step into the city, I notice the ground has turned to dirt with only a few sparse shrubs poking out here and there. No grass. Typical of an African village. The grass that is walked on the most ceases to grow after a while, especially when you factor in the livestock some of these people let wander about freely.

From all around the zombies moan. I don't see very many in the streets, so apparently the majority are too stupid to figure out how to get out of their huts.

These little thatch huts are everywhere: most of them no bigger than a garage. The central street is strictly dirt and riddled with footprints and hoof marks. A few places have flimsy wooden fences to keep their animals in. Most of the village is surrounded by thick brambles, strategically placed to keep the livestock in and the predators out. A few lit torches decorate the length of the walls--the source of the smoke and fire I saw over a mile away.

A few zombies stagger too close and are instantly shot by my friends.

" Well, here we are." I announce, breaking the silence, " If we want answers, we're most likely to find them here."

" Answers like who set us up? " Barry grumbles, casting me a suspicious eye, " I have my suspicions."

" Then you're further ahead than the rest of us." Carlos kicks the shell of an empty gourd lying on the ground and watches it roll into the briars.

I try to avoid staring too hard at Barry. It doesn't take a rocket-scientist to figure out he suspects me of the whole thing.

Come to think of it, if I were a traitor, it would make sense for me to lure the S.T.A.R.S. to a remote African village and try to blow them up inside a building. And, seeing as how that failed, it would make sense for me to 'hide' the stuff in the jet and say it was stolen so I could lure them to Sambabwia.

Well, it would kinda make sense, depending on my motives.

Actually, if I were a traitor, I'd try to split the group up and pick them off a few at a time.

And I could do it. Easily. Almost everyone here trusts me.

But I'm not that type of a person. I've messed up plenty of times, but I don't betray people. I'm not like my father.

Chris sighs, exhausted. " Okay then." He rubs his hands together. I notice he has biker gloves on, just like me. Only his are not covered in zombie lioness brains. Lucky him. " We should fan out and search out the huts."

" Bad idea! " I blurt suddenly, thinking of my father.

I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth.

Chris cocks an eyebrow at me, suspicious. " Really? Why? "

My mouth goes dry. What do I tell him? That my father is here and I knew there was a chance he might be here all along? That would go over like prime ribs at a vegetarian convention. And even if I left that last part out, they would still wonder how their ex-captain knew where we were going.

Naturally, they'd suspect me of being a stoolpigeon. At the very least, they'd suspect me of something.

I force the words to come out. " I just think it'd be better if we all stuck together. You know, just in case something really nasty shows up."

" There's not much to worry about, really." Barry crosses his arms, magnum sticking out of one hand, " It's not like we're all armed with a bunch of pop guns. We brought the big guns this time."

" Yes, but there's safety in numbers." I argue.

" You're right." Chris agrees, frowning at me, " But there's also lost time. I don't really think it should take all eight of us to scan things out one hut at a time. We should split into the teams again."

Images of my father laughing as he tosses the bodies of my dead friends at me flash through my mind.

" Okay then, we'll split into…"

I cut him off. " Chris, I strongly advise against this."

Now the whole team is staring at me. Apparently, questioning Chris's judgment is not something that is done often.

Chris looks startled that I'm still even arguing. If he wasn't suspicious of me before, he is now.

He crosses his arms Barry-fashion and glares at me in an unfriendly way. " Oh? And why is this, Mister Wesker? "

His tone of voice and body language all indicate that he is more than a little agitated with me. He's never called me 'Mr. Wesker' before. Gulp. That's not a good sign.

I catch his eye. " I just have a really bad feeling about it."

I have been told that I have a very strong stare, but Chris's gaze right then causes me to look away.

And if Chris is suspicious…Barry looks like he's ready to shoot me.

Great, this is sooo what I had not hoped for.

" A bad feeling? " Chris says the words as if they are the punch line to a really bad joke, " I have a bad feeling about all of this. That's why I want to stay here the absolute minimum of time."

" What's wrong, chicken? " Barry sneers, " You have superpowers and all; you're the last person I would expect to go all Brad Vickers. Which is leading me to think that maybe you have some…how shall we put it…ulterior motives? "

" You're wrong! " I snap, finally losing my patience with Mr. Burton, " I'm not Brad Vickers, and I'm not my dad, and I'm not a traitor! I just don't think it would be a good idea to…."

" Little Alexia! "

My head snaps in the direction of this new voice.

A short, rather plump African woman around fifty years old by the looks of it and wearing a purple and blue floral dress charges seemingly out of nowhere with a huge smile on her face like a grandmother rushing to hug her grandchildren.

I wonder how I missed her--not many places a woman of this size can hide.

" Little Alexia?! " About five people say at once, including me.

The woman barrels right between Chris and I until she reaches a startled Alexis. Then she throws her oversized arms around her in a big bear-hug.

" Maggie! " Alexis chirps, returning the hug with equal intensity. Her blonde hair seems to glint in the torchlight at that particular angle. I'm glad she decides not to wear it up. It looks good down like this.

" Whoa, you know this woman? " Steve pipes.

Alexis releases Maggie and nods vigorously, her whole face lighting up. " I sure do! This is Maggie Evanson. She used to watch me and my brother sometimes when we were little. Maggie, this is my S.T.A.R.S. team. I'm not really a part of the force, but I help them out."

" Oh, I see." Maggie grins, staring at each of us in turn.

I can't help but think Miss Evanson must be a little batty for turning up in a zombie-infested African village in the middle of the night and with a titanic grin to boot.

Where did this woman come from?

" Um, not to break up a touching reunion, but Little Alexia?! " Claire tilts her head to one side and studies Alexis like the answer sheet to some school test.

" Oh," Alexis blushes a bit, " Little Alexia. That's my nickname."

Maggie gives Alexis a little love-tap on the shoulder, grinning so wide it must hurt. " Oh, don't you pull that, you little rascal! Your middle name is Alexia! "

What?!

" It is? " Chris's eyes widen in surprise, much like I'm sure mine must be doing right now.

" Er…yeah. Actually, it is." Alexis manages, sounding like she just confessed to pulling all the disgusting pranks at a party, " That was my father's idea, by the way."

Steve rolls his eyes. " Which comes as absolutely no surprise."

" Wait a minute," Claire gushes, " You never told us your middle name was Alexia."

Alexis gives a wry smile. " You never asked."

" Alexis Alexia Ashford. That just sounds so …" Steve pretends to search for the word, " evil."

The edges of Alexis's lips tug down a bit in the first phases of a frown. " I know."

The next few seconds are a blur.

Two things happen simultaneously: I hear heavy footsteps approaching and swivel around in that direction, and Maggie suddenly cries out; the whistle of a bullet with a silencer splitting the air.

But there is no time to worry about that, we have bigger problems. Four bigger problems, to be exact.

Four hideous behemoths lumber down the street looking very much like clones of Mauler. Four supertyrants with sharp claws, sharp teeth, and thick green bullet-proof scales covering their bodies.

The Quartet of Doom.

Mauler was hard enough to handle, no way I can take on his four brothers and hope to have even a prayer of winning.

They are all still about an equivalent of three blocks away when they spot us.

Because my hearing is extraordinarily good, and because I happen to be paying attention at the moment, I hear their morale-lifting words: " Hey! The non-zombies and the virused one are up there! Let's get them! "

My heart about leaps into my throat.

" Maggie! Maggie, stay with us! " Alexis's voice cracks, snapping me out of my daze.

Oh great, more good news.

We have to deal with the Mean Team, we don't have time to deal with some anonymous sniper!

" Run! " I yell loudly, catching everyone's undivided attention, " It's those bullet-proof supertyrants! "

" But Maggie…" Alexis starts.

I scoop up the fallen woman and flip her over my shoulder. " Let's burn some road! "

Nobody argues.

We run. It is the first time since I've gotten my virus that I've actually ran from a battle.

Because I am behind the others, and because the road is so narrow, I can not zip at my full speed. I'm running at what, for me, amounts to a light jog.

That's when the huge birds--vultures, I think--swoop out of the sky with hideous shrieks.

Zombies stumble into our path. We don't have time to stay and fight them.

With an unspoken order, Carlos and Rebecca dash swiftly to the left and into a huge hut. Zombie dogs burst onto the scene and follow them in; growling and snapping at their heels.

Alexis is just in front of me, and when she darts to the right and down an even narrower dirt road, I follow. We have to dodge zombies and devil-dogs the whole way. Already this has slowed us down, cost us time.

The pounding of the supertyrants' footsteps seem to pound the whole ground now.

A giant bird dives at me and rakes it's talons for my face. I grab it by the throat mid-air and wring it's neck with one hand before dropping it's body to the ground. All without stopping.

It's chaos! Creatures and zombies everywhere! Like some big army against us.

Alexis swerves again to the right and into an open field where a little girl looks up from whatever she was doing in front of a hut, startled.

The girl…she's much too pale to be an African. Fair skin and blonde hair wearing a bright red dress with her hair done up in a little red ribbon. I can't imagine what she's doing out here or how she managed to avoid being killed--she doesn't look any older than eight, maybe.

Of course, weird things should stop surprising me by now.

Alexis heads right for her.

Apparently, we are more frightening than the rotting zombie just a few yards off to her side, and she bolts into the heavy yellow-thatched hut.

Machine guns blare, and the zombie drops dead second before we reach the dwelling and dash inside; slamming the flimsy grass-woven door behind us, for all the good it will do.

We appear to be inside a normal hut--personal belongings are all over with sparse furniture and a few narrow halls leading into separate rooms.

The little girl is nowhere in sight, but I hear her breathing coming from the next room.

Only now do I realize Claire and Steve had also been following us.

Steve leans against a big wooden bookshelf and wipes a bead of sweat off his brow. " Phew! I'll bet we just set a new marathon record! " He pants, " I feel like I've just ran five miles at cheetah speed. "

I gently prop Maggie up against the wall while my friends catch their breaths.

The overweight woman sags forward--her eyes shut and breathing stopped. Red blood gushes like wine from a bullet wound just beneath her neck and a little to the left.

She is dead.

Whoever shot her meant business. Too bad I was a little too preoccupied with the supertyrants to see who did it, and it is such a madhouse out there no way I'd be able to hear the culprit through all the commotion.

It's still not over. From a comfortable distance away, I can still hear the beasts galloping around smashing things, confused. The vultures whine. The zombie dogs growl and bark. The supertyrants swear to each other.

Wow, I think, they have quite the command of the English language for being little more than big rock-heads. My money says Umbrella was not in any way even remotely connected with the development of such creatures. They're too smart.

The creatures, not Umbrella.

" Maggie? " Alexis pushes past me to lay eyes on her dead friend.

I come up from behind her and gently lay a hand on her shoulder.

" I'm sorry." I murmur. What else can I say?

Another death. But my heart hurts more for Alexis than Maggie. Maggie's dead--she no longer has any problems.

" Alan." Alexis's melancholy voice is little more than a whisper. She takes my hand and presses her face into it.

Poor thing. Gently, I pull her into a hug.

She wraps her arms around my waist and buries her face into my chest; almost like she's trying to hide.

" Alexis." All other words fail me at the moment.

Tenderly, I run my hand over her silky straw-blonde hair, petting her, comforting her as best I can. It's hard on anyone to lose a friend, even if you haven't seen that person in a few years.

Claire and Steve just stand there with their eyes fixed on us, mild surprise flickering across their faces.

I realize that Alexis and I hugging wouldn't look too different from Alexia and my father hugging.

Throw me a bone, irony gods! Who'd ever guess I'd fall in love with an Ashford, the daughter of my worst enemy?

At least I think it's love. I've never felt quite this way about anyone.

If anyone were to harm Alexis, I'd kill them.

A small noise causes Alexis to look up and pull away from me.

The little girl is edging out timidly from behind a corner.

" It's okay," Claire soothes in a voice as sweet as honey, " We won't hurt you."

She extends a hand out to the little girl.

Calmly, the little blonde grasps it, keeping her eyes glued on me.

" What about him? " She points a trembling finger at me.

Poor thing must be scared out of her wits enough without having to look into my weird eyes.

" He won't hurt you," Claire coos in that gentle voice of hers, " that's just Alan."

" She's right." I assure, " I know my eyes look funny, but I'm not dangerous."

Well, to children, anyway. I add silently. I can just imagine the wisecrack my dad would have about that.

" I'm Claire." Claire introduces, " And these are my friends Steve and Alexis." She gestures to each in turn.

Alexis raises a hand and waves a few fingers. " Hi." Something that could almost be the ghost of a smile plays at her lips.

I can relate. Hard to be cheery when you don't feel that way.

The girl is silent. I notice her eyes fall on Maggie, and a strange kind of sadness overtakes her.

It is now that I notice that she is wearing two rather odd bracelets--one around each wrist. The actual bracelets themselves are metal, but a rough, rocky surface like sandpaper has been fixed around it, and perhaps the strangest thing about them is that they have no designs, jewels, or anything at all to make them more pleasing to the eye. They look just like two dark copper-ish circles. A definite fashion don't, I would think. I wonder why she wears them.

" What's your name? " Claire presses after a moment.

" Alexandra." The girl says at last. She takes a few steps towards Maggie, then looks up at me--fear starting to well up in her deep blue eyes.

I back away very slowly and pretend to be deeply interested in a bamboo chair sitting off to my right..

" Alexandra." Alexis repeats, " How old are you? "

I take my eyes off the chair to see Alexandra kneeling over Maggie's body.

Odd. Maybe she knew her?

" Um…seven." Alexandra pauses uncomfortably, " Maggie."

" You knew her? " Alexis asks, startled.

" Uh huh. She was my friend. I got separated from my big brother and now I can't find my mommy and daddy."

" Your family is here? " Steve asks, incredulous.

Supertyrant footsteps thunder this way. Uncomfortably close.

" They're coming! " I yipe, hoping I don't sound like a scared weenie.

I really, really hate supertyrants.

" Sh…" Steve starts, looks at Alexandra, then catches himself, " Shitake mushrooms! "

" I know a place we can hide! " Alexandra pipes, " Follow me! "

She bounds around the corner and leads us into what I'd guess to be a bedroom. She pulls a large mat off the floor, revealing a hidden hatch which she quickly pries open.

" Quick, in here! " She stars down a stairwell.

We follow single file with me in the lead.

" I'll close the hatch a re-hide it as best I can." Steve announces.

There is a clicking as he fiddle with the wooden latch.

" Where are they? I thought you said you scented them! " A supertyrant booms with all the sweetness and cheer of a seasick pirate. He sounds too close to the hut for comfort.

" I did but…this other scent…" Supertyrant number two trails off, sniffing.

I sniff, too. I do detect a strange odor in the air. It is not bad. In fact, it smells kind of sweet, like sunkissed strawberries or a fresh fruit smoothie with vanilla. But at the same time it doesn't smell like fruit. It's actually kind of intoxicating.

Alexandra leads us down into a well-lit chamber.

I have to stop and stare. It's just like a secret lab base. The floor is composed of hard white tile and the beige, metallic walls have no decorations. There are quite a few potted green plants sitting around in the corners and lining the walls.

Three steel doors are set; one in each wall. Other than the differently colored handles, there is nothing special about them and no plaques telling which door leads where. Red, blue, and ivory handles.

Oooookaaaay.

Alexandra grabs the blue handle and jerks it open. " In here."

The next room has tawny-brown carpeting and is full of furniture. A comfy couch sits in one corner, a table and chairs in another. An easy-chair is in front of a TV suspended in an upper corner by one of those metal TV holders. There is a remote lying on the wooden cabinet. Two vending machines sit next to the table--one for snacks and one for drinks. There is even a wastebasket nearby. Tall, leafy plants are arranged festively around the furnishings.

This is not a typical African villager establishment--we have just stumbled into someone's secret base.

Overhead, the supertyrants bellow in rage and frustration. That's a good sign. As long as they keep making all that noise, they'll never be able to sneak up on us.

Claire, Steve, and Alexis are all scoping out the room, too.

" Wow." Steve marvels, " Goodbye tacky, hello neat. And expensive."

" Alexandra, where are we? " Claire inquires, her eyes settling on the TV.

I walk over and plop myself down on the sofa, glad for a chance to relax and collect my bearings.

Alexis sits next to me, still surveying the territory.

" This is Acid Rain's secret base." Alexandra says proudly, glad to be wielder of information. She sits down in the easy-chair and swivels it around to face us. " Cool, huh? "

Claire and Steve sit at the other end of the couch.

" What's so secret about it? " I blurt, " I mean, you knew where it was at."

Alexandra gives a half smile. " Actually, someone showed me where it was; an Acid Rainie. He was awfully nice, he even offered to let me watch videos. I don't remember his name, but he had dark, chocolate brown hair and looked maybe you guys' age. But I didn't want to watch a movie. I have to find my parents."

" Your parents," I repeat, " who are your parents? "

Alexandra frowns, gripping the arms of the chair extra roughly.

" Sorry. I can't tell you. They told me never to tell anyone or I would be punished."

" Well, that's no good," Steve remarks, " Why? "

Alexandra shakes her head, he little red hair ribbon swaying to and fro. " Sorry. I'm not allowed to talk about it."

This strikes me as odd. What kind of parents would go to such lengths to protect their identity? Young children are usually encouraged to give their parents' names in case they get lost. Like Alexandra.

" All right, we won't press then." Alexis says calmly, giving Steve a fisheye.

Steve shrugs. " What? "

" What is Acid Rain? " Claire pries, straightening the hair that fell loose from her ponytail.

" Well, you know what mad scientist are? " Alexandra asks, looking much too young to worry about mad scientists.

" Yes." I cannot stop the frown from monopolizing my face.

" Well," Alexandra continues, tossing her hair back, " Acid Rain is a team of mad rocket scientists. All of them are geniuses. Their leader is said to be the third smartest person in the world."

" Only third smartest? " Steve jokes, " Who's first smartest? "

Alexandra shakes her head. " I do not know."

" So, what do we do now? " Claire asks.

For some reason, they all look to me.

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Chapter 12 to be posted morning of 8-24-03. ( Sunday)

Let me know how you are liking it!