11
Had she not known that the majority of the forest was destroyed in the fire, Jill might have suspected that she was standing in the very spot in which Joseph met his unfortunate fate. The familiarity of it all washed over her, images of that night rushing through her mind so swiftly that she threatened to drown. She felt as though she were suffocating and she clenched her eyes shut, willing herself to think of anything but the howls of the undead.
She wouldn't have known she was walking were it not for the crunching of the earth beneath her boots. Both Chris and Kevin had taken point and she followed them robotically, pistol held so tightly in her fist that her knuckles grew white. Her mouth felt impossibly dry and she attempted to swallow, eyes rapidly surveying as far beyond the trees as physically possible.
"Remind me what kind of monsters I'm looking for?" Kevin asked, voice a little light with humor. It all seemed so damn ridiculous, really...hunting for monsters in the dark like a kid checking the closet before bedtime.
Chris remained vigilant and Jill struggled to appreciate the sound of his voice over the loud, hurried pace of her heart.
"Come on, Ryman. You've seen zombie flicks, haven't you? Same shit. Might see some zombie dogs, fucked up plants, weird ass reptile hybrids, or giant, corpse-looking fuckers with their heart outside of their chest."
Kevin whistled, the sound long and low.
"Ah, is that it?" The sarcasm in his voice earned a click of the tongue from Chris.
Chris didn't seem even remotely put off by the return to Arklay Forest. He maneuvered his way between the trees with the same finesse he usually did, unperturbed by the cracking of twigs beneath their feet and the rusting of leaves in the distance.
Jill, on the other hand, was in fight-or-flight. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck and she often forced herself to pause while she attempted to drown out the sound of her heart in order to assess her surroundings. She was grateful to know she was out of their sight as she lingered behind, the symptoms of her anxiety hidden.
Burning the bodies kept them from coming back. There's no way they're still out here.
She had lost count of the number of corpses she had burned back in the mansion, but she knew that not a single one had reanimated after her makeshift cremations. The reports of monsters were probably just a modern day witch hysteria or, maybe, a diseased, disfigured animal struggling to survive after the forest fire.
Chris looked back at her over his shoulder and caught her gaze. The hard press of his stare made her momentarily wonder if he was somehow able to discern her racing thoughts. She just smiled at him and nodded, and it earned a wide, toothy grin on his part before he shifted his attention back to the path ahead.
Jill hated this shit - the mountains, the forest, the ominous fog that hovered just above the ground. She hated the eerie silence of the woods, the scent of the scorched vegetation, and the way her mind attempted to fill the quiet with the cadence of paws forcefully striking the dirt in sprint. And, in a way, she hated herself. When had she become so weak?
No. She hated Umbrella for making her this way. It was their fault, not her own...wasn't it?
"Hey."
Chris's hushed, commanding call seized her attention. She froze mid-step and let out a deep breath, preparing herself for what was to come.
She followed the beam of light from the end of his flashlight to the silhouette through the trees. Jill would never forget that telltale stance with shoulders slumped forward, arms limply dangling, and head lazily lolled to the side.
If Kevin was shocked, she didn't know. Jill couldn't tear her eyes away from the zombie that loomed just beyond the trees, unaware of their presence. How did it sustain the explosion?
"I'll be damned." Kevin murmured, pistol raised as he slowly approached the creature.
Chris followed suit, encircling the monster from the opposite side, allowing the men to flank it with ease. As they drew close, the zombie let out a low, agonizing groan, and Jill felt her stomach turn just as the monster shuffled forward to stumble towards Kevin.
The deafening ring of a gunshot came through, rinsing the echo of the cries of the dead from her mind. Jill suddenly felt as though her feet were being swept from beneath her. Her vision began to spot black and she stumbled forward, hand desperately grasping at the air in an attempt to locate anything at all to steady herself with. Her mind felt fuzzy and her body felt heavy as her heart began to slam against the confines of her chest, and the last thing she registered before her eyes slipped close was the horrified look on Chris's face as he watched her fall.
When she came to, Jill found herself enveloped with warmth. She was faintly aware that she seemed to be moving, but the weight of her eyelids forbade her from paying it too much attention. Instead, she nuzzled more closely against the source of the warmth beside her. Her cheek rubbed against the sturdy, hot surface, and she made a quiet whine in her throat.
When she felt a rumble beneath her face, she realized exactly where she was-safely cradled in Chris's arms as he carried her back to the car, engaged in conversation with Kevin.
She thought she may faint once more out of sheer embarrassment and perhaps she had. The next thing she knew, she was being lifted out of the backseat of the car, and she dared not open her eyes.
"You sure you've got it?" Kevin asked, gesturing towards the woman in his arms.
Chris nodded, completely unaffected by her weight.
"Yeah, no worries. I'll take her up to her room and call a cab to get home."
Kevin ran a hand through his hair nervously and looked up at the sky, a little bewildered by the events that had occurred.
"So...fuckin' zombies, no shit. Goddamn." He looked at Chris, his usual carefree expression now eerily stiff. "What does this mean?"
Chris shrugged despite Jill being draped in his arms. "I guess the nightmare never ended. We'll talk tomorrow."
He began to move towards the apartment complex's entrance, but idled momentarily.
"Be careful, Ryman. Monsters aren't the only thing worth fearing in Raccoon right now "
It was a heartfelt sentiment, his genuine concern for the other man thinly concealed as a warning. Kevin nodded and reciprocated.
"You too, man."
Chris would never tell Jill that he was aware of her nightmares. The sudden, half-coherent mumbles she uttered in the midst of the night often stirred him from his sleep and gave him a disturbing glimpse into the horrors of her mind. In some way, though, it gave him solidarity to know that he wasn't the only one struggling.
Sometimes, he thought about how unfair it all was. They all deserved better than this. Though he had never cared for it before, Chris somehow felt robbed of the normalcy of the humdrum of life. He was perpetually on edge, haunted by the presence of the notion that something might be about to happen.
He studied her face as he pondered, one hand propping up the side of his head while the other ran through the soft tresses of her hair. She was stretched out in the bed beside him, the tension that seemed to perpetually linger between her brows finally at ease as she slept. In her sleep, Jill seemed to be at peace, but her unconscious whispering told him otherwise.
"...more death…" She mumbled, head shifting to the opposite side of the pillow.
His heart felt as though it had been set aflame. No, he didn't know the content of her dreams, but he had an inkling of an idea as to what they may have been about.
"Jill." Chris spoke softly and cupped her shoulder in his hand to give it a gentle shake.
Her eyes flitted open and closed a few times in succession, eyelids heavy with sleep.
"Chris?"
Her blue eyes met his and he smiled widely as he gave a slight wave of his hand.
"Welcome back to the land of the living."
He openly winced at his own shitty joke, but Jill took no offense. She extended her arms above her head and began to stretch, back arching away from the mattress in a feline-like manner.
Chris watched her every movement - the curve of her back, the way the hem of her shirt rose to expose the tender skin of her lower belly, and the small sound of pleasure that resounded low in her throat as she lowered herself back to the bed, satisfied with her stretch.
She never ceased to amaze him with any of the things she did. The way she moved fascinated him just as much as the ease with which she undid the padlock to his locker every time he managed to forget the combination.
"God, Chris, I'm so sorry."
Jill was tempted to bury her head beneath the pillow and smother herself to death as she realized what had happened.
Why the hell did she faint? It certainly wasn't her first encounter with the living dead and, most likely, it wouldn't be her last, either. She had executed more of them than she wanted to admit, and yet she passed out at the mere sight of one.
Jill was embarrassed. How could she have let that happen...in front of Kevin, no less.
"Jill."
Chris had slid across the bed to close this distance between them and he allowed a wide, calloused palm to find the curve of her cheek. His dark eyes wandered over the features of her face with a particular sense of warmth that made her heart flutter in her chest.
Though they hadn't been apart, he missed her. It was a feeling he couldn't quite describe, a longing for something that he wasn't entirely sure existed, but one thing was for certain - in his desire to be close to her, Chris wanted to forget where he ended and she began.
Chris kissed her slowly and sweetly with a tenderness that she never would have anticipated a man of his stature was capable of. It was gentle and light, a careful brush of his lips and the stubble that was peppered along his face in the late hour.
She felt his palm sweep slowly across the length of her from neck to hip before slipping beneath the edge of her shirt to press against the small of her back and bring her flush against him. His mouth traveled away from hers to paint the rise of her cheeks with wet, hot kisses, their path continuing to the underside of her jaw.
Jill was surprised to find how sensitive her skin was as he moved along her jawline, each playful nip eliciting a tingling sensation that traveled the length of her spine. She tilted her head back against the pillow to present the underside of her jaw to him and he smiled against her neck when he finally managed to draw a quiet gasp from her as his teeth traced the line of her throat.
The tip of his nose brushed at the smooth area of skin between her collarbones as he worked his way along her sternum, peppering her skin with intermittent kisses and playful nips. When the collar of her grey t-shirt no longer provided stretch, he slipped his hands beneath the bottom of it in search of more.
His thumbs traced over the front of her body, slipping between each and every groove of her ribs. He watched her with his chin pressed flush against her chest as she shuddered beneath his touch, soft flesh giving rise to gooseflesh in the wake of his hands.
He lifted her shirt and slid it along the length of her, pausing briefly as the fabric pooled beneath her chin to press his mouth to hers once more. It was chaste, a swift press of his lips against hers, and he broke it off just as quickly as he had initiated it to free her from her shirt.
Chris straddled her waist and leaned back, breaking their contact to tug off his own shirt. Jill's pale eyes swept over his chest, lingering at each cut of muscle that flexed with his movement. It made him feel uncharacteristically self-conscious to be under the scrutiny of her stare and he wondered if her stare was one of appreciation or judgment.
He was relieved when her cool hands found him, fingertips dancing over the sculpt of his chest as they made their way towards his shoulders. She firmly pulled him downwards, bringing his mouth to hers, and she kissed him in a way that made the ache between his thighs nearly unbearable.
"Jill." He murmured against her mouth, the free hand that was not supporting his weight finding itself tangled in her hair.
She hummed in response and deepened the kiss, all teeth and tongue with just enough pressure to make him groan. Her fingertips found the edge of his waistband and she didn't hesitate to undo his button, making quick work of the zipper and letting the fabric fall open to rest low on his hips.
He hooked a finger beneath the edge of her sports bra and peeled it from her skin with ease, watching with fascination as her full breasts bounced free from the constrictive fabric. Chris buried his face in her chest, against her sternum, and listened briefly to the slow, steady thrum of her heartbeat.
Jill ran her fingers through the short strands of his hair, breathing ragged with anticipation. He idled only for a moment before cupping her breasts in his hands. In response, Jill inhaled sharply and bowed off the bed, her back arching instinctively.
He did not relent and instead kneaded her flesh gingerly, watching her as she bit her lower lip in order to keep from crying out. Once his thumb brushed against the hardened peak of her nipple, she mewled in spite of her best efforts, and Chris felt the warmth of pride bloom to life in his chest. She deserved this-deserved him and all that he had to offer.
She felt the hot, moist pant of his breath against her skin before he took her nipple into his mouth, swirling the tip of his tongue around the swollen nub experimentally. Jill gasped and gripped his shoulders tightly, lost in the sensation of the sweltering heat that slowly began to consume her.
Her hips bucked against his as he worshipped her flesh with both his hands and mouth and she curled her hands into fists at his back. She gasped and writhed as his ministrations continued, coming to rest dangerously low at the hem of her pants.
Chris loved every second of it as he watched her slowly unravel as a result of his touch. Never would he have imagined that it would come to this, with Jill crying out beneath him as he worked her body like he was born to do so. His heart swelled, rivaling that of his member as she bucked against him once more.
He slid the last bit of fabric over her hip bones at a dangerously glacial pace, earning a pointed look from her. He laughed, voice husky with his desire, but offered no verbal form of apology for his teasing.
Instead, his mouth found the juncture between her thighs, and Jill cried out in the way he had fantasized about since the last time he had the pleasure of taking her in that bed.
Giddy - that was the word for it, he realized, the word to describe the way that Jill made him feel. Though he was exhausted in every sense of the word, Chris couldn't quite force himself to wipe the smile off his face. Yeah, sure, sex was great-even better with Jill-but it wasn't solely the sex that raised his spirits. For the first time in a long while, Chris felt whole.
Ever since the loss of his parents, Chris had felt a part of him was lacking. He became well-acquainted with death at an early age and, though Claire had been there to fill the void their parents left behind, her departure for college somehow managed to reopen the bottomless pit he had once managed to fill.
It was bittersweet to send Claire off to university. Sweet, of course, because he only wanted the best for her and bitter because of the absence that seemed to mull about Raccoon City like a sulking teenager without her there.
Yes, Jill Valentine had waltzed into his life at an incredibly appropriate time. His only regret was that he hadn't met her sooner.
He sighed as he cut the engine of his beat up Honda and leaned back in his seat to stare up at the flickering lights plastered on the side of the convenience store. His console had read 21:34, but he knew he had set it fifteen minutes fast to compensate for his poor punctuality.
Fifteen minutes difference meant he could still funnel coffee like a freshman at her first sorority party without feeling guilty about it. He could handle Jill's lecture about the addictive qualities of caffeine and its effects on his body later.
Jill was right about most things and Chris quickly found that this was no exception. From the moment he entered the store, something seemed out of place. The chime of the bell hanging over the door seemed ominous in a way, but he chalked it up to either auditory hallucinations from sleep deprivation or the effect of residual post-coital adrenaline.
The teenage girl behind the counter didn't even bother to acknowledge him when he stepped in, her attention glued to a magazine spread out on the counter. He lingered in the doorway for a moment to survey the few patrons inside. None seemed particularly menacing - an elderly couple browsing pharmaceuticals, a middle-aged man in a suit debating frozen dinners, and a young woman thoughtfully studying the impressive selection of chocolate.
Chris couldn't explain why his hairs stood on end as he stood at the coffee station at the back of the store, but he knew he didn't want to hang around for long. With his arms crossed over his chest, he leaned against the counter with his back to the wall in order to survey the store as his coffee brewed.
The familiar chime rang out again and a teenager stumbled in, the hood of his sweatshirt obscuring his face. Chris stiffened and was surprised to find that none of the other shoppers bothered to even glance at the kid.
Civilians, he had to remind himself. Not everyone is a cop.
The newcomer shuffled through the aisle, swaying from side to side on unsteady feet. His hand reached out to grasp the edge of the shelving nearby in order to regain his balance and he paused, hunched over as his breath came in a staccato of rough heaves.
His first impression was that the guy was high. Raccoon City had a rapidly growing issue with drug abuse, an epidemic so impressive that the RPD had recently established a special unit solely to combat the issue. It didn't seem unlikely that the kid was probably huffing some shit in the back alley behind the store and came by to binge on junk food.
Still, his hypothesis wasn't strong enough to put him at ease. Chris kept his attention glued on the teenager as he attempted to rise.
A series of coughs came forth, the fit so violent that his shoulders shook, and Chris watched the splatter of blood paint the linoleum.
There was a ticking of a grandfather clock echoing somewhere in his mind and, for a moment, he swore he could smell the burn of wax.
He shook his head, throwing the memory of the dining hall from his mind. Huffing shit in a back alley probably tore up the lining of your throat. This was just a dumb kid in a convenience store, not the Arklay Mountains and all the fucked up shit it hid.
The kid groaned, low and deep, and Chris wasn't sure if it was a hallucination or just a coincidence. Instinctively, his hand shot out for his hip, an action so familiar that it was committed to his muscle memory.
What he wasn't expecting was the fistful of air in lieu of the coldness of steel.
Where the fuck was his gun?
With an unnatural crack of its neck, the kid snapped his face upwards, causing the hood of his sweatshirt to fall away. His shaggy fringe partially obscured his face, but the empty, milky appearance of his eyes was evidence enough.
Chris's worst nightmare was quickly becoming a reality.
The zombie's mouth drew back into a snarl and Chris went into auto-drive. He shoved the shelving as hard as he could, forcing it to topple over and pin the creature beneath its weight. The cacophony finally caught the attention of the others, and he felt himself tremble at the hissing sound the zombie made, its free hand helplessly reaching towards him as it gnashed its teeth.
"Everyone needs to get out." Chris spoke quickly, voice quivering, "Get the fuck out, go straight home, and lock yourselves up. Don't stop for anybody."
They all stared blankly, bewildered by his erratic behavior.
"I'm not fucking around!" He shouted, gesturing towards the zombie. "This shit is for real. It's not safe. Go!"
The teenage girl behind the counter burst into sobs, the receiver of a phone held in her trembling hand. "I-I'm calling the police."
"I am the police!" He spat, furious.
Didn't they fucking see it? It was still fucking shrieking and groaning, snatching at the air in its desperate attempt to grab a hold of him.
"Son, I think it's best to stay calm." The elderly man approached him, hands held in the air in a peaceful gesture. "It's gonna be alright."
Chris thought about Jill, alone in her apartment, waiting for him to come back. He thought about the way they reanimated a second time when a bullet wasn't put through their skull and he thought about the hunters and the speed with which they could lunge, impervious to just about anything but a shotgun blast to the mouth.
More importantly, he thought about the empty space on his hip and just how horribly unprepared he was for all of this.
Fuck it.
He wasn't going to waste his time.
With as much strength as he could summon, Chris lifted his foot and stomped down on the shelving as hard as he could. The cracking of bone beneath his weight caused him to wince and he couldn't bring himself to observe the horrified looks on the others' faces.
Instead, he dipped out as fast as he could, but not with enough haste to miss the groan that still came from beneath the fucker inside despite being severed in two.
He needed a gun...and Jill.
Fast.
Notes: thank you, thank you, thank you for reading and following. Raccoon City is finally f-u-c-k-e-d.