The elevator continued to descend. In the dark, Claire worked stripping off her old holsters. Now that they didn't serve a purpose, the were just bulky collateral. She tossed them on the floor and pulled out one of the gold Lugers from her side pack. Green emergency lights had turned on in the lower floors, casting a glow over the duo. The gun glowed like it was radioactive.
"It really is beautiful," she marveled. She pressed the magazine release and the small clip slid out. Claire held it up and peered at it in the low light. It was empty. She gave Steve a cross look past the magazine.
"Who cheated who?" she thought irritated. Claire let it go. She didn't need to be on bad terms with Steve. They needed to help each other to escape this place alive. Besides, she wasn't going to hold onto these for long. Still a little irked, she slid the magazine back into the gun. She picked up her fallen sidearm where it landed when the creature grabbed her. She groaned softly as she stood back up. Her entire body was sore.
"Wish I had some Tylenol," she thought.
Steve was busy loading his brand new submachine guns. He stuck the spare clips in his pockets and loaded two into the guns. The elevator finally hit the bottom of the shaft.
"Okay! Let's do this!" Steve yelled excitedly. "Wait here Claire." He pulled back both slides on his guns, then released them. Both of his guns were loaded and ready. "Time to test out my new toy!"
Laughing he barreled through the door. It slammed shut behind him, and immediately, Claire heard automatic gunfire. Hurriedly, she went through the door. Steve was already gone, and several decomposing bodies littered the floor. She heard more gunfire in the next room.
"Well, he sure is having fun," she thought. "I guess I'll just let him do his thing. He should be able to handle a few zombies."
A gate was closed over one part of the room. Past it was a door, and leaning on a bench, to Claire's excitement, was a grenade launcher. She recognized the make, it was a M79, just like Leon had given her in Raccoon City. She reached through the bars of the gate. To her dismay, the gun lay about four inches from her fingertips. She stretched as far as she could, but only succeeding in almost wedging her sore shoulder into the metal. She retracted her hand, disappointed.
"Damn! So close, yet so far away. There's even spare rounds on the cabinet in here."
Claire looked and saw a card reader next to the gate. It was indigo blue. She filed away this information for later. She wanted that launcher.
Another burst of gunfire reminded her to follow Steve. There were two doors. Claire picked one, and found herself in a dead end. There was a workbench here, with gun parts scattered everywhere on the table. She helped herself to a half full box of nine millimeter rounds sitting next to them. She turned out of the room and went through the other door.
More bodies littered the room. Claire figured it was a boiler room of some kind. A ruptured pipe was leaking some noxious looking gas, but a fan in the floor was sucking it in. Ahead of her through the ajar door, she heard Steve.
"It was dirty work, but this area is now clean!"
Claire walked through the door and saw Steve. He was standing in a dim hallway, next to a hideous carving of a face jutting out of the old brick wall. A drainage stream bubbled below them. Claire joined him on the metal bridge over it. He smiled when he saw her.
"Well, what do you think of my work?" he asked. Claire looked away from him. He might have been effective, but she thought that he enjoyed himself a little too much. Steve didn't notice her. "You see?" he continued, "this thing is a lot more reliable than any person."
He stuck the submachine guns out in front of him and crossed his arms, posing for her. A look of confusion crossed Claire's face.
"Than people?" she asked. Steve cast his eyes away at her question. He turned away and walked towards and old gate elevator at the end of the bridge.
"Steve," Claire began. "What were you doing here? Who brought you here, and where is your family?"
"Shut up!" he shouted. His voice shook a little. "I don't want to talk about it!"
Claire opened her mouth to press forward, but Steve raised his arm and fired down the stream, emptying his clip. Claire pressed her hand to her ear. The shots echoed loudly off of the stone.
"Steve..." she began again. Steve interrupted her.
"Never mind, lets get going," he said. He pulled open the gate to the elevator. Claire followed him slowly.
"Somethings wrong..." she thought. "He has something going on in his family, but he doesn't want to talk to me..." She thought of her relation with Chris. "Please, Steve. Don't shut me out just yet."
Once they were both in, Steve pressed the button for the second floor. He ejected his empty magazines on the floor as they rode up, then loaded new ones. Neither of them spoke. Behind him, Claire could see how he moved as he filled his weapons. He was angry.
When the elevator stopped, Steve opened the gate and quickly sauntered down the hall. Claire jogged to catch up with him. Upon opening the door, she saw him standing on a rickety wooden balcony that ran around the interior of the building. They had found the base's motor pool. It was in an antique section of the base. The entire room looked fifty years old, at least. Claire could feel the boards bending under her boots.
As she met with Steve, the planks beneath them collapsed. They both screamed as the balcony crumbled. They hit the dirt floor hard, the debris piling on top of them. As soon as she hit, Claire covered her arms with her head. Rotten boards and old metal pelted her. Dust filled the air and began to settle. She heard Steve cough. He had landed closer to the center of the room. She tried to get up and hissed in pain.
Claire looked at her ankle and saw that it was pinned underneath the twisted metal railing of the former balcony. She braced her free leg against the wreckage and pushed, using her hands to pull her leg with all her might. The wreckage shook slightly, but didn't move. She pushed and pulled again, grunting, but still remained trap. She heard Steve cough in the dust again, then call out to her.
"Claire, are you okay?" he asked. He stood up. He didn't see the figure behind stand up behind him. Claire saw it through the settling haze.
"Steve, behind you!" Claire warned. In the blink of an eye, Steve whirled and stuck his guns at the zombie. It turned towards him and moaned. As it did, Steve's eyes widened, and his mouth dropped slightly.
"No..." he breathed. He took a few shaky steps backwards. The zombie began to slowly advance on him. Steve backed up more. As he did, he bumped into a parked jeep that was being repaired in the center of the room. He awkwardly shifted it around it, all the while his guns pointed at the approaching zombie, but never shooting. From her vantage point, Claire looked at him, confused.
"What's wrong Steve?" she asked panicked. "Shoot him!"
"What is he waiting for? He's got ammo!" she wondered. Claire saw the fear growing in his eyes. "What is he so afraid of?"
"Wait!" he yelled at the undead man in front of him. To Claire he stammered, "I...I can't!"
His voice broke. "No!" he screamed and closed his eyes.
"Steve!" she called at him. It was almost upon him. Hearing her scream. It stopped and turned in the direction of Claire. Seeing this new, helpless prey, it began to shuffle towards her. Claire reached for her gun, but it had fallen out from her jeans in the fall. It now lay in the wreckage at her feet, beyond her reach. She tried to push herself back, but her trapped leg prevented her.
"No!" she begged. Wildly, she looked at Steve. He was still frozen. The zombie fell to it's knees in front of her and opened it's mouth. Claire threw herself into the ground and covered her neck with her arms, shrieking.
All at once, Steve snapped out of his funk. He turned and centered his guns on the zombie as it lowered it's head. He pulled the triggers of his guns.
"FATHER!" Steve screamed. The automatic gunfire ripped into the zombies decomposed flesh. As it hovered over Claire, the exits wounds riddling it's body spewed blood all over her. All she could hear was the sound of gunfire, Steve screaming incoherently, and bullets exiting flesh. The volley of bullets continued to assault the zombie, until the force of them pushed it off of Claire. Steve continued to fire as it fell next to Claire.
Finally, his guns went empty. The gunfire stopped abruptly and the room went silent. Steve continued to press the triggers again and again, but nothing emerged but empty clicks. The zombie gave a final twitch and stopped moving. Shaking, Claire lifted herself off the ground. Her jeans, vest, and shirt were stained with coagulated blood, and a few trails of it ran down her face like crimson tears. Real ones would follow soon.
"Steve..." she squeaked. Her eyes started running, mixing the zombie's blood on her face.
Steve stood there, completely motionless. He slowly blinked, then Claire saw his tears begin to fall from his eyes. He fell to his knees, then dropped both of his guns. He tipped his head back, sobbing.
"Father...Father...Father..." He fell forward and buried his head in arms and sobbed.