Okay so here is a little bit for you guys. I do realize that I accidentally changed the side that Claire hurt her arm and leg on in the last chapter. It was on the left side. So just ignore my mistakes, I make a lot of them because I forget some details from my writing when I haven't done it in a while. I hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 14: The Village

************************Claire

Climbing out of the cool mud hut, blinded by the bright glare of the sun overhead, she shielded her eyes with her right hand, her newly wrapped left was set in the same sling, taking in her first glance at the quaint village. Traditional homes were set here and there, their mud walls cracked and dried from many hot summers. Sturdy sticks and logs, which were often used as the frames of the structures, could be seen protruding their bare backs in poorly maintained parts of the huts where the mud was slowly, but surely, falling away. The roofs of the houses, or more like huts, though Claire, were made out of some kind of tall dried grass like straw. The area was bare of foliage within the village, the roads and walkways between houses a yellowish dirt. Upon her examination of the place, Claire realized she was still in the forest, and by the looks of it still very deep in the forest

"Great." she muttered. She may have been unquestionably annoyed at her situation, but Claire's curiosity was intrigued, and although she was peeved she couldn't help but wonder about the place she was currently. Despite her anger, the girl's lips curved upward in the corners when she saw the traditionally venerable clothing that the villagers wore. There were a few women dressed from head to toe in colorful hats and gowns, their dark hair short and neatly set close to their scalps. She spotted a man in similar clothing, yet his top was shorter and he wore trousers. Okay so they're not completely shut off from the rest of civilization, said Sensible Claire, if they were they'd be running around half naked.

Claire snorted aloud and thanked goodness that wasn't the case. She respected the differing cultures and their traditional garb, they pleased her in aesthetics. Yet she also was allayed to be spared that part of some older Tanzanian cultures and her unavoidable awkwardness towards them if they were to be interacting in any way.

Originally the impression she had from within the confines of her sick hut was that she and Wesker, whose memory was returning to him rather quickly, were in more of an, aboriginal, village. The two women who had acted as her nannies were dressed in even more traditional clothing than the women she saw walking in the village. Also when the tyrant mentioned something about the village chief taking Claire as his own, she couldn't help but be haunted by an image of a masculine, scantily clad, dark figure with grass around his ankles and waist and a spear in his grip. Still, Claire would be damned if she let that happen, no matter what the chieftain wore.

Stupid pompous freak, Claire thought as she replayed in her mind's eye what had happened in the hut earlier between the two of them. If she'd only had some kind of weapon in her possession she would have given the-man-who-thinks-he's-some-kind-of-god a piece of her mind. Unfortunately, Sensible Claire, had to bring up the image of a rocket targeting the Uroboros infected face of Albert Wesker as molten lava engulfed his bottom half and how he still managed to come out completely unharmed, unscathed and unmaimed.

The villagers probably thought he was a god, much like the original Americans thought the horse riding gun toting Spaniards and English were gods with their pale skin, fair hair and blue eyes. He could probably convince the villagers of his godliness. Claire knew he was, if anything, cunning. But what she didn't know is that Wesker had no desire to rule over such simpleminded people. She also didn't know that talk of his oddness was present. Wesker was viewed as more of a white devil than a deity. The sooner the two were out of the remote village, the better.

"Right..." Claire said as the image disheartened her courageous thought of teaching Wesker a lesson. Trying to shake the man, who she hoped was far away from her now, out of her head, Claire Redfield ventured further into the village that sparked her childlike curiosity.

Claire breathed in deeply and started down the first path before her. The vast jungle of classic African trees and plants, such as the baobab tree with its thick trunk, the acacia tree with its thin trunk and winding branches, and the doum palm tree with its fruit that produces palm oil that's oh so beneficial in American beauty products, danced in the breeze cast a cool shadow over most of the area. There were ferns and many plants Claire didn't recognize; yet, it was all so beautiful to her. Despite what all had occurred since her arrival in the country, she couldn't help but feel at peace in that very moment. Tanzania, a country that by now she should loathe, drew her in with its soft breeze that brushed lightly against her skin and its authentic nature which no one individual could deny its beauty.

She found herself thinking of her brother and Leon. And with all her soul she wished that they could be there with her. Her fondness over Leon had grown, if that were possible. Before they were friends, two people who had survived the great outbreak in Raccoon City together. And back in 2005 they were at it again in Harvardville with the T-Virus outbreak involving WilPharma. They had survived a lot together, and Claire believed that made them closer friends than any other thing on the planet could do to any two people. She didn't realize until the end of the WilPharma outbreak that perhaps what she wanted from Leon was more than just friendship. The fact didn't matter then because even if the witty, strong willed girl had worked up the courage and decided to pursue it further, Leon had a way with women.

Angela Miller. She must have been a passing thing. Even so, Claire Redfield wasn't sure if what she felt towards Angela Miller at that time was jealousy, but perhaps something more subtle like annoyance. So Claire was silent, and she departed from her longtime friend letting the relationship between them remain the same as it had always been; close but distant. Claire recalled that something similar had happened in Raccoon City with that woman who still followed him around like a ghost; Ada Wong. Although Claire may not have felt much of anything for Leon then in regards to desire to be with him, his seeming obsession with the illusive woman was like a bad addiction; dangerous. They're safety and escape from the city may have been jeopardized by Ada. Claire wondered that if she and Leon were together now if he would still maintain his feelings for Ada Wong. Something deep within her told her that probably rang true.

Compare yourself to has-been women, that's a really good way to drop your confidence level. Claire supposed that was also true. As loud birds sang their beautiful songs overhead, she just hoped that wherever Leon was, that he would find her soon and they could get out of this nightmare together like they had always done.

Not far down the dirt path Claire was stopped in her tracks by a small child who stood looking up at her with his large, dark eyes, with a smile on his face and outstretched hands, his palms facing upwards. Claire's confusion subsided when she realized the familiar stance the child was making.

"I don't think I have much of anything," Claire said smiling back down at the boy. His countenance shined brighter and his smile grew wider, making it obvious that her tongue was foreign to him.

"Hmm, let me see," she said as she felt around in her short pockets not surprised when she found nothing seeing as how her clothes had been washed out by someone while she was unconscious. She then relinquished the only possession on her, aside from her clothes, and fumbled with the band of her watch.

Getting down on one knee, much like the Catholic genuflect, she presented the watch to the big eyed boy and he took it from her happily. After she helped him fasten the watch around his wrist which he eyed with much prideful fascination, the boy grabbed her hand pulling her along with eagerness, their feet kicking up the soft dirt as they went. In a moment they arrived at what Claire supposed was the boy's home. A woman sat outside with a woven basket between her legs that Claire could only guess was his mother.

The boy ran to his mother flashing the pretty watch before her eyes and pointed towards Claire expressing that she was the gift giver. The woman stood from her spot and gathered three foreign looking fruits from her basket of which she was in the process of cutting, and handed them to Claire. Claire wanted to kindly reject the fruit but hadn't she just bestowed upon the boy with nothing a wonderful gift that any child in that village would be proud of? That and the fact that she was actually really hungry. It would be rude to deny the fruit.

The boy's mother motioned for Claire to sit with them, and so she took a seat on the ground by the woman. The woman handed her a paring knife and Claire began to cut open the hard shelled fruit, thanking the woman although there still remained a language barrier. The three sat on the ground as Claire ate the surprisingly sweet fruit and the boy stared at the pale skinned beauty in admiration. The woman began to sing a smooth, traditional sounding song and Claire couldn't complain.

As Claire was finishing the last of her fruit the boy ran into his mud hut and brought out some kind of dried jerky, presenting it to Claire. She hesitated in taking it, somewhat afraid of what it might be. Was there much beef in Tanzania? She didn't know, but the boy insisted and she took it. He then tucked his fists under his armpits and flapped his arms like wings as he made quacking sounds.

Claire broke out into a hearty laugh and was surprised at how good it felt and at how good the duck jerky tasted. How long had it been since she had felt anything but anger and fear recently? The time spent with the boy and his mother was like some kind of much needed therapy on Claire's part. Times were dark, much as they had been since this whole mess started, and yet she was still able to laugh amongst these people who she couldn't even understand. The sound of flowing water could be heard off in the distance, perhaps it was the river she had fallen in to during her escape from the infected. Her focus on the sound of the flowing water was so strong that she didn't hear the approaching footsteps.

"Getting comfortable?" Claire felt her stomach knot up at the sound of his voice. She turned and glared at Wesker who stood there in his black nurses' scrubs, his usually clean shaven face surprisingly scruffy.

"What do you want?" She spat, getting up from the ground.

"To discuss our next course of action."

"What makes you think I want to even look at you, much less speak." Claire saw a gleam of light flicker in Wesker's eyes. That hit the nail on the head. He was so quick to anger. Claire supposed she wasn't making it easy, but did he deserve anything that showed the remotest bit of civility towards him? She thought not.

"It's necessary."

"So you can lose your extremely short temper with me again and choke me out? I don't think so," they simply glared at each other, a fire in both of their eyes. "My brother's coming for me, and when he finds you I'll make sure to tell him about that."

Wesker's jaw tightened and his muscles stood out as a result. "You're trying my patience, Claire. However, having the chance to put your dear brother out of commission would be my pleasure." Could she hate this man, or whatever he was, any more than she already did?

Definitely.

"Oh, really?" She mocked, "Last time you two went neck to neck I'm pretty sure Chris is the one who came out on top, no matter what stupid virus you inject yourself with to try to match him. You're. No. Match." This seemed to not phase him which displeased Claire. Wesker was holding back very well. Claire was shaken when a sly smile crept on his face. Wesker placed his hands behind his back and strolled a few steps as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Yes, really," he mimicked. "Although I may not recall the events that happened between Chris and I before I awoke in that damned camp, I'm still here. Chris could never get the job done right," he said more to himself than to her. "Besides, I have something more dear to him than anything on this planet," he turned, looking Claire straight in the eye. "I have you, dear heart."

That realization sent a shiver down her spine. She feared that was Wesker's goal all along, to hold her hostage and to use her as a weapon against her brother. Why else would he have saved her life? This bothered Claire so immensely that now she wasn't so sure she even wanted her brother to come find her in Tanzania. To do so would be throwing Chris in to immediate danger once again. And Wesker was right, he was still here. Yet, she knew her brother could hold his own against Wesker, he had done so before, but what tricks did the tyrant have up his sleeve? Claire knew that if she was involved that Wesker could easily use her as a barrier. She glanced around at the boy and his mother who both had puzzled looks, both of their brows furrowed. She smiled at them and shot a hateful look back at Wesker before she thanked them and said her goodbyes. Not wanting to expose them to the somewhat embarrassing way, when done in front of others, in which she and Wesker communicated. If they were perceived as relatives to the villagers, surely they should act like it instead of be hostile towards each other.

Wesker took the hint and led the way towards the sound of the rushing water as Claire followed behind, keeping her distance. He led her down a path where they could "speak" in private, trees and bushes blocking their view from curious on lookers. Claire looked at the river, the sun gleamed off of its murky yellow surface and caused her to see bright spots of blue and red.

"Are you going to tell me what's necessary so I can go," she asked, squinting her eyes from the gleaming reflection, blinking away the spots.

"I believe this is the Pangani River," he said shortly, "separating Kilimanjaro and Arusha. If I'm correct our location is close to Same."

"Okay, so we make our way to Same and go our separate ways."

"Not exactly."

"And why not? If you think I'm willingly going along with you and whatever you have planned, you're mistaken."

Wesker stepped closer towards her, closing the distance between them causing Claire to flinch a little. "I'm not entirely certain," his tone soft and quite, "that you fully understand your situation, dear hear."

That pet name again, her stomach flip flopped.

"You can't hold me hostage, Wesker. I'm not a damsel in distress. I can protect myself."

"I don't doubt your ability to survive and prevail against anything, that's not what I meant," a sly look appeared on his face. What are you up to, Wesker? "You survived Raccoon City, when so many perished, you survived those wretched islands and Veronica, and you also survived Harvardville with the WilPharma outbreak. And now this...I'm well aware of your abilities, Claire. However, your current condition is unclear. You need my expertise."

"No I don't," she shot back.

"Yes you do, if you don't want to end up like your friends back at that TerraSave encampment."

And unfortunately, the megalomaniac had an excellent point. Claire was wondering why she hadn't transformed or mutated into the monstrosities she had seen at the camp. Those ape like infected whose movements and sounds made your blood curl. Why hadn't she experienced the virus the same as some of her dear friends had? The camp brought back memories of Abena, and she quickly forced it from her mind before her waterworks got going. The last thing she wanted was for Wesker to think he had accomplished something.

"If you know so much, then why haven't I ended up like them?" She glared up at him, her throat sort of stuck from holding back tears over her lost friend. His closeness making her extremely uncomfortable. She could see the few creases on his face and wondered how his skin was so flawless seeing as how old he was. How old was he anyway, almost fifty?

"I know how it's made, and I know how to suppress it. That remains the only reason why you're still you. And provided the right equipment, I may know how to cure it permanently."

Which it may not have been true that was the only reason why Claire hadn't succumbed to the virus, the girl was more than likely resilient to it. Perhaps she carried some kind of antibodies in her blood just as he and Jill had or it could be another phenomena entirely. Wesker wasn't sure, but he didn't have to explain the rest to her. Wesker knew in order to succeed that he had to do this tactfully, one step at a time. He had her where he wanted her.

"So what, you need a lab? And if you know all of this, and assuming it is curable, what makes you think that someone who's sponsored by the BSAA won't be able to cure me?"

"The lack of experience is dominant in most research facilities pertaining to viruses of this nature. Whereas I don't lack that experience," he said matter-of-factly. "By the time they found a cure your transformation will have occurred."

It seemed apparent that Claire was up shit creek without a paddle. If Wesker held the answer to her cure, then what options did she really have? She supposed she could still stick to her original plan, and escape at the opportune moment. Then she would find her brother or Leon and have them take her to the BSAA to synthesize a cure. She then had an epiphany. Wesker's knowledge on how to suppress the virus probably came from Dr. Obilade's journal. If she just grabbed it before she made her escape then whoever was capable of helping her shouldn't have a problem making a cure. She decided confidently that that was her course of action as soon as the time was right.

"How have you been suppressing it, then?"

Claire froze as Wesker's hand lifted to her face, her muscles tightened in preparation for whatever may come. Instead of feeling pain, Claire felt Wesker, with the softest touch, tuck a few loose strands of hair neatly behind her ear causing her to recoil. Wide eyed and fairly confused she observed as Wesker walked to the river bank and plucked a red leaf from a plant. "A certain combination of herbs," he said tossing the leaf into the flowing stream. It made its way down the river, twisting with sporadic velocity, twining its brilliant hue with the murky yellow river and disappeared.

"Um," she said losing her train of thought over Wesker's actions. "So, um. What are you planning?" This encounter had gone on too long. "This doesn't mean that I'm going with you willingly, I'll fight you the whole way." Her disdain for him palpable.

Wesker's laugh was maniacal and he told her his plan.

*******************Claire

Later, Claire sat outside of her sick hut mulling over Wesker's course of action and his odd invasion of her space. That gesture bothered her more than him being violent with her, but in a different way. It confused her, she didn't know whether or not he was just being weird or he was trying to get to her. Whatever the reason, she wasn't okay with him touching her.

They were to follow the Pangani River by foot, unless some form of transportation came upon them, and trek along its banks until they reached where the river met the Indian Ocean in Tanga. From there, they were to make their way to Europe. How exactly, Claire did not know, by then she will hopefully have escaped his calculating clutches. Apparently somewhere in Europe, Wesker still had some ties and Claire gathered that there must be some kind of lab he also had access to. She was silent about expressing what she felt and knew Wesker had in store for her. He obviously not only planned to use her against her brother but more importantly he wanted her for scientific purposes. She would be damned if she let him turn her into his test subject and extract the virus from her body to use for his own dark purposes or place a device over her heart that made her obey his every demand. And they were demands.

Jill, whatever horrors you faced...I might understand those horrors very soon.

One thing was for sure, being so close to Wesker earlier, she was well aware that he still wasn't back to his old self. His once menacing yet fierce eyes that glowed with a fiery red were now reverted back to their original calming blue. Somehow that meant he was vulnerable, which also meant that Chris could succeed again this time and make a permanent example out of his longtime foe.

"Please be looking for me, Chris." She said aloud to herself. The sun was sinking behind the tree tops and the creatures of the forest began to sing their nightly song. Yet one call far off in the distance sounded somehow out of place. Claire's first inclination was that it was one of the monkey species in the area making the high frequency call, but a sudden realization caused her to jump to her feet in a rush to warn the villagers. She ran into Wesker in the process and was knocked back a little bit, almost falling down in the process.

"How far off are they?"

"Not far he said," and grabbed her wrist tightly to pull her along with him.

She yanked her arm out of his grip, "I'm not leaving these people to die!"