A Star's Descent
By evolution-500
Disclaimer: House of the Dead and Resident Evil are properties belonging to SEGA and Capcom respectively. I do not own any of these characters.
Chapter Twenty-Four: Revelations 2
Rebecca swallowed as she surveyed their newest find. After navigating a series of corridors, the survivors found themselves wandering through a vast hallway. On the walls were various messages written in blood with messy handprints, often repeating certain phrases or images, the latter largely consisting of staring eyes.
HE WATCHES!
BEWARE THE JESTER!
RESURGAM!
PERDURABO!
ESTAI!
AB ETERNO!
AB INITIO!
ADSUM!
"What happened here?" Rebecca said as she eyed the bloodied walls and the gore-drenched floor.
"This is fucking creepy," Coen shivered as he stared back at the eyes.
Rebecca tried ignoring them, focusing her attention on the writing.
"What is that?" she wondered. "What kind of writing is this?"
Star's eyes squinted.
"Latin," he said. "It's Latin. One of the phrases is in Greek, though."
"What do they say?" Coen asked.
"Resurgam. "I shall rise again". Perdurabo. "I will endure to the end". Estai. Greek for "I will be". Ab eterno. "From the eternal". Ab initio. "From the beginning". Adsum."
He froze.
"What?" Rebecca said nervously.
Star swallowed.
"I am here."
The survivors looked around nervously.
"Let's get the fuck out of here. Right. Fucking. Now." Coen whispered.
The survivors hurriedly and quietly left, troubled by what they saw.
It was the sound music that drew them. Rebecca listened as the song echoed. Following the sound, the survivors halted as a gunshot rang out, followed by a thud. Rebecca and the others were deathly still as the song continued to play, waiting for some indication of a hidden enemy, be it some masked Umbrella enforcer or a zombie. When nothing came, the survivors hesitantly continued forward. It was then that Rebecca heard the lyrics being sung, followed by a ghostly chorus oohing in the background.
"'When you wish upon a star,
Makes no difference who you are.
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you.
If your heart is in your dream,
No request is too extreme.
When you wish upon a star
As dreamers do.'"
Star's eyes were veiled in shadow as it played. Entering a room to their left, the survivors found a body of a researcher lying against a wall with a bleeding hole in his head, holding in one hand a photograph of his family and in the other a still-smoking handgun, his brains spattered against the wall behind him. Beside him was a portable radio, the chorus' ethereal voices continuing on from the speakers.
"'Fate is kind.
She brings to those who love
The sweet fulfilment of
Their secret longing.'"
Tears ran down Star's face the moment he heard that. Lowering his eyes, he stared to the floor. Rebecca was doing everything she could to not join him in the water works.
"'Like a bolt out of the blue,
Fate steps in and sees you through.
When you wish upon a star,
Your dreams come true.'"
When it finished, Coen turned off the radio. Star wiped his eyes without saying a word.
"If only we had gotten here sooner," Rebecca said quietly. "We could have prevented this."
Coen said nothing.
"I used to love that song when I was a child," Star said quietly.
Rebecca nodded.
"Same here," she said.
"Me too." Coen admitted. The convict then shook his head disgustedly. "Fucking Umbrella."
Umbrella. The word sat unpleasantly on the tip of one's tongue. To Rebecca, it was like the aftertaste of excessive vomiting, only no amount of toothpaste or mouthwash in the world could wash it away.
"They can always be counted on to ruin something," she said.
"Amen." Coen nodded.
Star grunted. The convict reached down and tried to pry the dead man's weapon away. After a few minutes, he gave up.
"Fuck this place," he muttered. "Let's find a way out of here. Fucking shithole. Fuck you, Marcus. And fuck you, Umbrella."
"'Treatment Plant Manager's Diary. 5/10 - Damn it! Why is normal industrial waste being delivered here? This is an Umbrella Corporation facility. We can't deal with this volume of material. Plus they're sending us contaminated materials that we can't process. What are we supposed to do with it?'
'7/24 - Well, looks like they're closing it down. Not surprising, using it like they did. Had to be done, but...it was pretty sudden. It's not like they cared until now. Anyway, as long as I get out of here, I don't care what they do.'"
Once she finished, Rebecca shrugged off her backpack and stuffed in her latest discovery.
"So...murder, torture, experimentation, possible tax evasion if this place is any sort of indication, and now gross negligence to add to Umbrella's ever-growing list of its crimes," Coen muttered. "Spencer's mother must be so proud."
"It's no wonder that the t-virus is loose in the first place," The medic said, then froze as a thought crossed her mind. "Oh my god..."
"What?" Coen said.
Rebecca's brows knitted together as her mind worked overtime, looking inquisitively around. Could it be possible...?
Star looked at her, intrigued.
"What is on your mind?" he asked.
Rebecca looked up at her companions.
"I think I know how this all started," she said in realization.
"You do?" Coen said in surprise.
"Yeah. I think this is where it all began."
Star and Coen gestured for her to continue.
"Back when we were looking for a way to activate the cable car, Star and I have been discussing what could have happened to Marcus," the medic explained to the latter. "His theory was that Umbrella captured and experimented on him while mine was that Marcus had been fed to his own leeches, which in turn gave them access to increased intelligence and his memories."
"So a leech puppet that thinks it's Marcus," the convict replied.
"That's right," she said. "I want to somewhat amend that theory. What if after killing Marcus, Umbrella disposed of the body down here along with his babies? Maybe a few survived and had fed off of Marcus' body, if not his brain, before lying dormant down here for years."
Star frowned.
"But if they had been down here all this time, why hadn't there been other incidents? Why now? What triggered their reawakening?" he asked before suddenly pausing, then tilted his head thoughtfully. "Unless..."
Rebecca nodded.
"You're thinking what I'm thinking, aren't you?" she said.
"Care to share with the rest of the class?" Coen said.
"Industrial waste," The albino replied as the medic nodded again.
Rebecca watched as the convict pursed his lips.
"So," he began, "if I'm understanding you two correctly, contact with improperly disposed of contaminated materials, perhaps even t-virally infected shit, must have reanimated the little bastards somehow."
"Exactly," the medic nodded a third time.
A slow clap drew the survivors' attention. Turning to the right, they saw a figure hidden in the shadows next to a doorway.
"Clever girl," he said. "I must admit, some of your ideas have given me pause for thought."
"Who are you?" Rebecca demanded.
The man hobbled out toward them, groaning in pain. When he stepped into the light, Rebecca did a double-take as she gazed upon the youthful appearance of James Marcus...or rather, what was left of him. He was badly burned, with parts blackened and scorched.
"Doctor James Marcus, at your service," he said, wincing.
"Oh my god," she said. "What happened to you?"
Marcus wavered unsteadily on his feet, grunting in pain.
"I had a close encounter with...something," he replied. "It was through pure luck that I was able to get away."
"Why have you come here?" Star said lowly, his eyes narrowed into tiny slits that viewed him with open contempt and suspicion.
The youth in white regarded him.
"So, it talks!" Marcus taunted, causing the albino to glare at him.
"Answer me!" the latter demanded.
Marcus' eyes gleamed wickedly.
"Isn't it obvious?" he retorted. "To feed and gain my strength back. You three were in the area and are just what I need."
The survivors stood frozen, alarmed by the admission. The albino took a threatening step toward him when Rebecca put a hand on his chest.
"Wait," she said before looking to Marcus. "Before you do anything, could we talk first?"
The youth in white sneered.
"Why? Do you intend to beg for your life?" he said.
The albino pushed forward and drew back his lips, baring sharp dog-like teeth at the arrogant man before being halted by the medic with a hand on his chest and a shake of her head. Rebecca then looked back to the robed figure.
"I just want to ask you some questions."
He raised a brow.
"You wish to interrogate me?"
"Well...yeah."
He chuckled.
"And for what possible reason?"
"Can you at least spare a few minutes? I just want answers."
Marcus breathed slowly.
"Fine." he spat.
Star glanced at the medic.
"Are you sure about this?" he whispered.
Rebecca nodded.
He then looked back to the scorched researcher, then gave her a nod and fell back.
"Good dog," Marcus mocked.
The albino glared hatefully at him, his mouth and jaw clenched, his fists tightening. Coen regarded the researcher similarly, his form stiff and alert.
"What happened?" Rebecca asked.
Marcus' form shuddered.
"Ten years ago, Spencer had me assassinated," he explained bitterly. "I was working in my lab when two Umbrella Security Services goons suddenly came barging in and open-fired on me with automatic weapons. My own students, William and Albert, betrayed me! ME! Their mentor! They stood there gloating over me as I lay there dying, telling me how they were going to take over my research! The ungrateful little bastards! They threw me down here as if I were nothing but garbage!"
He took in a deep breath.
"After that, something miraculous happened. My children bonded to me. And now, thanks to them, I live again. Thanks to them, I will have my revenge against Umbrella."
"How did you get the robe?" Coen asked. Everyone looked at him questioningly. "What? I was curious."
"I had to improvise and use some curtains," Marcus answered.
"Why did you attack the train?" Star demanded. "You say that you want revenge against Umbrella. Why target innocent families and children? They had nothing to do with your death, nor with Umbrella."
Marcus scoffed.
"If Umbrella was going to burn, I needed to start a fire," he replied. "They were merely kindling."
"You could have gone to the police," Rebecca pointed out.
The researcher laughed.
"Gone to the police!" he retorted. "My dear, Umbrella has connections with the police...among other things."
"You didn't have to murder civilians to get what you wanted!" Coen snapped.
Marcus shrugged indifferently.
"I didn't have to. With that said, however, I still have mouths to feed..." he replied.
Rebecca tried to hold Coen back as he strained against her. Star stood there, his features unreadable and partially hidden by a layer of shadow.
"YOU SICK BASTARD!" Coen angrily yelled. "You are gonna pay for what you've done!"
The youth in white laughed.
"And how are you going to do that?" he sneered.
Rebecca raised up her hand to both Coen and Star.
"Wait!" she said. "Let me talk to him."
"What else is there to say?!" Coen snapped. "Listen to him! He doesn't give a fuck about anyone but himself!"
"Just...give me a minute, okay?" the medic said. The convict was still for a moment, then nodded.
Turning around, Rebecca looked back to Marcus.
"What do you know of the lizard men?" she asked.
"Hm...I'm guessing they're one of William's pet projects," he answered. "I'm afraid being dead for ten years has made me out of the loop on the happenings within the company."
"What do you know of the pink lightning and the creatures that spawn from them?" the medic pressed.
He shrugged.
"I know nothing about a "pink lightning"," Marcus replied.
"And the creatures from them?"
"Again, I'm ignorant on that front," he said in annoyance.
"Could Umbrella be part of that?"
Marcus gave her a withering stare.
"My child, contrary to what you may believe, our company deals with science, not magic. I have no idea where these other creatures have come from, let alone why they're here. Could they be Umbrella? Who knows."
Star took a step forward.
"Were you the one responsible for doing this to me?" he asked, gesturing to the scars. "Was it you that had been sending me the threatening messages? Was it you that had written those messages along the walls in Latin?"
The former Umbrella scientist sneered at him contemptuously.
"Impressive little beast, aren't you?" he said as he regarded him. "I thought you incapable of speech, much less thought. To answer your question, no. I don't know what you're talking about. I have nothing to do with you, monster."
Rebecca glared at him.
"Don't call him that!" she said angrily. "He is more human than you are! More human than you ever were!"
Marcus scowled.
"This conversation is boring," he drawled. "I believe it's time for dinner."
"Wait!"
The medic then approached the youth in the white robe, stopping just in front of him.
"And what do you intend to do, little one?" The researcher mocked. "Have you come to offer yourself in exchange for your friends?"
"No," Rebecca answered.
He regarded her curiously.
"Aren't you afraid?"
"To be honest, I'm terrified. I'd rather not be this close to you, but I am morally obligated to reason with you. If I'm correct in my assumptions about what you are, then please, listen to what I have to say," Rebecca said.
Marcus huffed.
"What can a plebian simpleton such as yourself have to offer intellectually?" he said imperiously.
Star approached and stood by Rebecca's side, looming over the researcher, his hands clenched so hard that the medic could hear the fabric straining against his knuckles.
"I want nothing more than to strike you down right here and now, you insolent little creature," the albino said in a low harsh whisper, his form trembling furiously. His face was perfectly poised, but to Rebecca, he looked like a bomb that was mere seconds away from going off. "You murdered those people on that train in cold blood. You tortured and experimented on animals and people, making them into monsters and weapons. You made me compromise myself...my soul...by forcing me into committing violence. And the worst part? You are completely remorseless in your actions. If I had my druthers, I'd pour gasoline all over you and your filthy children and happily light the match. The only thing keeping me from doing that is because of Rebecca's wish to speak with you. You will listen to what she has to say, and you will show her the respect she deserves. She is ten times the person you are and what you'll ever be, with an excellent mind."
For a brief moment, Rebecca could have sworn that the air became warmer and that his strange eyes glowed. His face partially shadowed, he leaned forward, his sharp canines threateningly bared as he continued, his voice a vicious snarl. "And if you even attempt to lay a hand on her, you will regret it!"
Marcus hesitated, then gave a nod, causing the albino to straighten himself and step back.
"Go on, child." the burnt researcher gestured.
Rebecca glanced to Star and nodded in thanks, then looked back to Marcus.
"Why do we have to fight each other?" she asked. "We both want to take down Umbrella, after all. Ever heard the expression 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'?"
Marcus blinked, Coen and Star hesitating.
"You want me to join forces with you?" he said with incredulity.
"Yes," the medic nodded.
The researcher laughed.
"Oh this is rich!" he said. "And...what? You want me to testify against Umbrella?"
"Well...yes," she said earnestly.
He chuckled darkly.
"And why would I do that?" he sneered.
"Because they killed your father."
Marcus looked at her, taken aback.
"What?" he said in puzzlement.
"If my assumptions about you are correct," Rebecca began, "you are a one of a kind. Your species used to be nothing more than an annoyance to be plucked off from peoples' legs that did nothing but eat and breed in swamps and marshes, but now,...look at you. You can coordinate together and make complex forms. You now have increased intelligence and advanced motor skills. You can reason. Marcus has given you all that. But...at the same time, he has damned you."
Marcus hesitated.
"What do you mean 'damned' me?"
"He hasn't just infected you with the t-virus," she continued. "By acquiring his memories, his personality, your...father...has also infected you with his rage and his hate. His evil. James Marcus died ten years ago, a hateful, bitter and vile person that as far as I'm concerned got what he deserved. You are not an abomination because of the t-virus. You are not an abomination for not being human. You aren't even one for having Marcus' form...even if I find it distasteful personally. If you want to keep it as your own, you are more than welcome to keep it. Marcus has given you the chance to become human. The one thing he hasn't given you, however, is a soul. He has made you into a ghost, and the more you let him control your actions, the more he drags you down. That is the obscenity. If you are what I believe you to be, then please, let Marcus stay dead. Let him rot down here where he belongs. You have done some terrible things tonight. Awful, unforgivable things. But...with that said, I want to give you something that your own father couldn't give you. A choice. A chance to redeem yourself. A chance to gain a soul of your own."
The researcher smirked, shaking his head.
"Ah, the trying-to-appeal-to-my-better-nature routine. Such sentimentality," he replied. "You can't change who or what I am."
"I can't," she admitted, "but you can. Change is nature. Plus,...you aren't by any means natural. Your growth is something that for other species would have required thousands, perhaps even millions of years of evolution. You achieved that in less time than that. You yourself proved that you are capable of it biologically. Now you have to try morally, psychologically. Spiritually."
"And what makes you think that I would want to? Why I would listen to anything that you say?"
"Because it is to your evolutionary advantage," Rebecca said simply. "Look at how Marcus had lived. In the end, he died friendless and alone, betrayed by people that he called friends and colleagues, all whom possessed the same ideology he had, dumped into the sewer as if he were nothing more than a fresh turd."
"Has it never occurred to you that perhaps Marcus' behavior is to my benefit? There is a difference between us," Marcus sneered. "He was a weak, frail old man. I have power."
"Exactly," Rebecca said. "It's precisely why I'm trying to appeal to you. You could live as he had and go on until you face destruction yourself...or you could take another path, try to make up for your crimes, help people and in turn become a better person than your father was in the process."
"You naïve child. Do you really believe that my actions could be forgiven just like that?!" he retorted.
"No," Rebecca said truthfully. "And if I had been related to those onboard that train, I wouldn't even want to forgive you. In fact, you probably wouldn't ever be able to make up for the horrible things that you've done. With that said, however, everyone has the right to try."
The youth in white pondered her words.
"Do you really expect people to accept me?" he said seriously.
"By helping those that need it most, they would." The medic nodded.
"So that's your suggestion, then? That I become some sort of superhero? Come on, wake up! This is the real world! Umbrella isn't going to let me live! Nor the government! They will hunt me until I'm either captured and dissected or destroyed."
"If you spare us, we won't do any of that to you. I promise."
"You promise," he said disgustedly. "You stupid girl. It's not like I can settle down somewhere happily ever after. I can't settle down with someone, with anyone! I can't get a job and earn a salary! The only rights I would have is that of an animal's! My children still need to feed and are infected with the t-virus. Perhaps in some idyllic 1950s sitcom or cartoon monsters and humans live together in harmony with white picket fences, but in the real world all of that is bullshit, and you are an idiot for entertaining such a notion!"
Rebecca felt her face become heated as she angrily tightened her fists.
"Saving as many lives as possible would mean fewer people hunting you and more people rallying behind you," she said. "Even you must be smart enough to realize that. The same is true vice versa. The more people you kill, infect or let die, the more likely people are to hate you, in finding and destroying you."
"Not if I destroy them first," the leech man sneered.
"And how long until your strength gives out? Hm? How long will that attitude carry you forward for? If you are indeed James Marcus, then attack us. My friends and I will not only kick your ass, but we will sing about it later! Trust me, I'm part Irish, and we can wallop just as well as we sing!"
His form startled to ripple angrily.
"If, however," Rebecca continued in a gentler tone, causing Marcus to falter, "you're not James Marcus...just know that you have a choice. Just because your father is a shitty person doesn't mean you have to follow in his footsteps. There is always another way. I said my piece, the ball is in your court now."
She then regarded the clone.
"So...what shall it be?" Rebecca asked.
Marcus was still as he contemplated her words. Rebecca waited as seconds turned into minutes, her companions eying the figure in the white robe warily. Then, to everyone's surprise, Marcus waved them aside.
"There is a lift that can get you out of here in the Reservoir Room," he said. "It's behind a locked door, but I can get it open for you. Go."
Rebecca nodded.
"Thank you," she said politely.
Marcus said nothing.
Turning around, the medic looked to her companions and nodded that it was time to leave.
As the survivors wandered through the corridors, Rebecca noticed Star's eyes pensively lowered.
"Is something wrong?" she asked.
He raised his eyes.
"I was just thinking, that's all," the albino answered.
"What about?"
"Well...about you, to be honest," he said quietly, startling her. "What you've done back there was...amazing. A miracle. Rather than attack Marcus, a man whose heart is so black and deserving of every conceivable torture imaginable, including death,...you opted for mercy. You tried reasoning with him. Not only that, but you wanted to redeem him. And now he might actually become a better person because of you."
Star gave a small smile, his eyes shining with admiration.
"You are absolutely incredible," he said.
The medic said nothing as she looked away, her features cast down.
"Rebecca?"
No response.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm not great as you make me out to be, Star," she said quietly, her voice a near whisper. "I'm anything but."
Her body started to shiver furiously, her legs wobbling beneath her.
Star's pulse leapt as the medic suddenly fell forward and sank to her knees.
"REBECCA!" The albino cried as he fell beside her, catching her in his arms.
"What happened?" Coen said with concern.
"I think she's-"
He cut himself off. At first, Star thought that the S.T.A.R.S. officer had fainted again, but when the girl started to noiselessly cry, he looked at her with a mixture of alarm and surprise as he held her, feeling her smaller form tremble against his own.
"I wanted to hurt him," she murmured. "I really wanted to hurt him...but I couldn't."
"Why?" the albino asked.
Rebecca wordlessly took out her handgun from her holster and ejected her clip, then tilted it. Nothing came out.
"I wanted to hurt him. God help me, I wanted to hurt and kill him. I-I wanted to make him suffer. I'm as bad as Marcus, and-and I'm appalled and horrified by that," she said as tears streamed down her face.
"Don't say that," Star said.
"It's true," she said weakly.
"It isn't!" the albino insisted. "James Marcus was a selfish evil bastard that didn't give a damn about anyone. The difference between you and him, Rebecca, is that you do! You didn't want to hurt him out of malice. You didn't hate him for hatred's sake. You wanted to do so out of empathy and compassion, because you are just. You cared about his victims. You cared about the people on the train. You saw an injustice and wanted to make it right. Even when it came to his...clone, when given the choice, you still gave him due consideration, even when he wasn't deserving. Marcus in life would never have done what you did, and...I think...you are all the better for it. Even if you had been armed with a missile launcher...I think...you'd still have given him the chance."
Rebecca scoffed.
"I'm afraid that's where you're wrong, Star. If I had been armed with a missile launcher, I would have fired without hesitation," she said quietly.
"You underestimate yourself. Even if you had,...it still wouldn't diminish the level of respect I have for you," Star said in a soft tone. "You might find this silly but...for a long time, it's...been a dream of mine to meet someone, male or female, that was as honorable and good as some of the heroes of old, someone that embodied those ideals. Admittedly, I was having doubts on the chances of that ever happening. But...now I have."
The medic continued staring despondently to the floor.
"You have too high of an opinion of me."
"No," he replied. "You are a remarkable girl, Rebecca. Even though our circumstances and the manner in which we met have been less than ideal, it has been my greatest pleasure meeting you. And...I want to follow your example."
Rebecca looked up at him in astonishment, her eyes glistening. The moment her eyes made contact with his, Star found himself spellbound, his pulse stopped.
'What's going on?' he thought confusedly. 'Why can't I move?'
Had Marcus snuck up and delivered some paralyzing agent into his system?
The lack of screams and gunfire assured Star that none of them were being ambushed, and yet, staring into the pools of green, the albino felt lost and vulnerable. Time seemed to stand still. When Rebecca smiled, he felt his pulse quicken.
"Thank you," she said.
Star swallowed, catching his breath.
"No, Rebecca," he replied, "thank you. Thank you for standing up for me, and for being what you are. If I can become even a fraction the kind of person you are, it would be an honor."
The medic scoffed.
"Don't sell yourself short, Star," she said. "From what I've seen so far you've been doing a good job without me."
He looked down.
"In some areas, perhaps. In others...I am lacking. I'd had never have done what you had. I'd have sooner attacked him, thereby getting us all killed in the process," he admitted. He lifted his chin thoughtfully. "There is, however, one aspect about your approach that had left me a little disappointed."
She hesitated.
"And...what's that?"
Star gave a heavy sigh of longing.
"Well, I had been hoping to hear you sing again. You promised to make a song about kicking Marcus' ass, remember? I had been so looking forward to that!"
Rebecca burst out laughing, the sound causing a stirring within the albino's chest. For a moment, Star swore that Rebecca's eyes and face sparkled in the light, mesmerising him further.
'Beautiful,' he thought.
The way her whole face lit up made the albino suddenly recall the Irish fairy, a diminutive and mischievous creature of preternatural beauty with green eyes.
He hesitated.
Hadn't Rebecca told him that she herself was partially of Irish heritage?
As the medic's chuckles settled, Star sensed someone watching, then looked to see Coen grinning widely at him.
"What?" the albino said puzzlingly.
The convict said nothing, instead he gave an enthusiastic thumbs up as his Cheshire cat-like grin grew, waggling his eyebrows.
"Umm...you can let go of me now," Rebecca spoke up.
Star then realized that he still had his arms around the medic, causing him to (reluctantly) withdraw. As he and Rebecca rose back up to their feet, they looked away awkwardly.
"Um...sorry about that," Star said.
"No, it's-" Rebecca faltered, her face pink.
"I-I thought you had fainted, that's why I...had you in my arms," he tried to explain, murmuring the last part embarrassedly.
"It's fine," she said. "I-I mean, I know why you did it."
"I'm sorry I didn't let go sooner." he blurted, wincing.
"It's okay. I get it."
"I don't know, Rebecca," Coen spoke up, grinning like a shark. "You two looked awfully cozy."
Star wanted to die right now. Rebecca's face became crimson as the convict laughed.
"I'm just fucking with you two!" he chuckled.
Rebecca glared at him and stuck her tongue out. Coen rolled his eyes.
"Whatever," he said, then looked at her seriously. "What he said is true, though, Rebecca. You are...something."
Star watched as the medic gave a small smile.
"Thank you, Billy."
The convict grunted.
"That said," he continued, "we shouldn't let our guard down just yet. For all we know Marcus is lulling us into a false sense of security and is luring us into a trap."
"In the event that he is, how do we prepare ourselves for it?" Star asked.
Rebecca nodded to herself.
"Even though I have no ammo," she said, "I still have a couple of tricks up my sleeve. I just hope that I won't have to use them."
Star looked at her.
"Do you think Marcus will attack us?" he asked.
The Bravo medic shook her head.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I like to think that he won't. I hope not."
The albino reached into his coat and pulled out the handgun from his pocket, then ejected the clip and held it out in offering to her.
"Take it," he said. "I only have three rounds left, but they're yours."
Rebecca hesitated.
"Are you sure?" she asked uncertainly. "You haven't fired a shot all night."
"I think it would be better in your hands. You deserve it."
Star felt the medic's eyes search his. Taking the clip, she nodded in thanks as she reloaded.
"We should get going," Coen said. "Maybe look for supplies before moving onward."
Rebecca nodded as Star pocketed his weapon and picked up his bags.
"Agreed. Come on."
The survivors wandered quietly through the various rooms. Searching through them, Rebecca couldn't help notice something odd. The whole place seemed...empty. No monsters, no leeches. Not even the lizard men.
'Maybe luck is on our side,' Rebecca thought to herself.
Upon entering what appeared to be personnel sleeping quarters, they checked around for supplies. Rebecca found three cans of First Aid sprays while Coen found a Smith and Wesson Anaconda with three rounds.
"We talked with the Captain about your situation, Billy," Rebecca started, drawing the convict's attention.
"And?" Coen said.
"There are no guarantees," she began, "but we could try to put in a word for clemency at the Department of Corrections, maybe have the Colorado Court of Appeals review your case-"
"I don't want them reviewing my case," Coen cut her off.
Star and Rebecca exchanged looks nervously.
"Why?" the latter asked.
The convict said nothing.
"Answer me," Rebecca demanded.
Coen sighed.
"Believe me," he said. "It's for the best. Let's just leave it at that."
"I'm not just going to "just leave it at that!" Star stood up for you and was adamant on helping you," Rebecca retorted. "Even I had argued on your behalf. What is going on?"
Coen said nothing.
"Did you or did you not kill those people?" Star asked seriously.
The convict was quiet for a while, then shook his head.
"No."
"Then why?" The medic demanded.
Coen's shoulder's sagged.
"Because I have nothing to lose," he explained. "The men in my unit have families, girlfriends and boyfriends to go home to. I don't."
"Then why did you flee from the van?" Rebecca asked. "Why change outfits?"
He huffed.
"Do you really want to know why?!" The convict said angrily. "I was scared."
His admission made the teenagers give startled looks of surprise.
"Yeah, you heard correctly," Coen said. "I said it. I was scared. Contrary to what you might think, I wasn't that eager to die. So...when the van flipped over and I had gotten free...I just figured...what the hell."
"But why cover for the men in your unit?" Star asked.
He exhaled.
"Look, they're good guys. Men that I'd have given my right arm for," he said. "They...just made a mistake."
"Made a mistake?" Rebecca repeated. "They committed war crimes! They murdered twenty-three innocent civilians!"
"I know that, but those men have families!"
"So do the people that they killed!" Star replied, causing him to wince. "Aren't they deserving of justice? Aren't their families deserving of knowing the truth of what happened? If you were so concerned for your brethren, why didn't you have them consult with attorneys? We have courts, judges and lawyers for this sort of thing."
Coen said nothing.
"You're not helping them," Rebecca said. "You think you are, but you're not. You're just letting your friends get away with murder. If you die, you won't be wiping their slate clean. You'll be their twenty-fourth victim."
The convict looked at her.
"Yeah?" he said. "Well, I'm not gonna rat out my buddies."
"As an officer of the law, it is my duty to report everything you say," the medic replied.
"I'll deny everything," Coen said.
Star shook his head.
"You are a fool," he said.
"Maybe I am," the convict said with a shrug. "How do you think their families would react if they learned the truth? How many lives would be ruined in one fell swoop? Sometimes, Red, to protect the things you care about, you have to learn to make sacrifices and lie. Even if it hurts like hell."
He turned to face the doorway.
"My buddies had wanted to confess, you know," he said.
"Why didn't they?" Star asked.
"Because I convinced them not to," Coen answered. "They protested and took some time and a lot of convincing, but after a while I got them to listen. I told them they could make it up to me and those civilians by leading better lives."
"You do know that I'll have to arrest you and take you to Regarthon Base after this," Rebecca said.
Coen smiled.
"You're welcome to try, doll-face. Don't count on being successful, though."
With that, he exited the room, leaving the two teenagers. Rebecca exchanged looks with Star, then nodded for him to follow.
Finding another crushed squadron of Umbrella soldiers, the survivors checked around for extra ammunition and weapons. Coen was able to a find extra rounds for the Colt Anaconda while Rebecca was able to find a box of handgun rounds. Once she finished reloading, she offered the rest to Star.
"I...think it would be better if you have the rest," he said.
"Why?" she asked.
The albino frowned.
"I've...never actually fired a handgun before, let alone...used one," he admitted.
A look of surprise crossed his companions' faces.
"But you said that you knew how to use it," Rebecca said.
"I do," the albino replied. "From observing your team and...television. I never used one, though, just because I had promised Mother that I would never lay my hands on a firearm, let alone use one against another."
Rebecca gave Star a considerate look.
"Would you like to learn how?" she asked.
"Personally I would prefer not to," he said, "but given our circumstances and the precariousness of our situation, I don't think I have much choice."
"You don't have to do it if you don't want to," Rebecca said gently. "I'm not going to force you. If you don't want to do it, I'll completely understand."
The albino was quiet for a while as he thought it over.
"If it means increasing the likelihood of us getting out of here alive...I'll do it," he answered.
"There's also a chance it could get us killed, Red," Coen spoke up as he approached. "Don't think for a moment that your learning how to pick up a gun is going to result in you automatically becoming a super action hero like Sylvester Stallone or Schwarzenneger. Aiming down the barrel of a gun isn't as easy as it looks, especially to a first-timer."
"It really isn't," Rebecca nodded in agreement. "Trust me, Star, I know."
"I am aware," Star said.
"No you don't, Red!" Coen cut sharply. "You really don't! This isn't a movie or a video game - this is literally life or death! You aren't aiming at pixels or cutouts. You will be aiming and gunning down living, breathing targets, with the intent to kill! Maybe a part of you will be able to tell yourself that you're just shooting zombies and monsters, perhaps shut yourself off from everything, but this isn't some fantasy. This is the real world, with real-life consequences, Red. Even more, there may come a point where you have to kill a living person, if those Umbrella soldiers are any indication."
Star was still as he listened.
"You were feeling green from the thought of inadvertently killing them," the convict continued. "How do you think you would fare at the idea of having to deliberately kill someone, even if it is out of self-defense? Think about that, Red, because in this instance, there is no room for hesitation. It is a matter of life or death. If you hesitate, people will die. If you miss, people will die. If you fuck up, people will die. If you aren't careful in your aiming and handling, you could either hurt or kill me, or Rebecca, or yourself. Think long and hard about what I said before you decide, Red, otherwise, someone will get hurt."
Coen's words struck a chord within the albino the moment he mentioned that. If he were not careful, it could mean certain death. Star was quiet as he considered his options.
"So what will it be?" Rebecca asked.
The red-draped youth stared to the floor, then raised his eyes.
"I'll do it," he answered. "Marcus, and by extension, Umbrella, compromised me the moment I had to decapitate my fellow passengers. Between the choice of letting them take more of my soul by having me stumble into that eventuality with my idiocy, resulting in someone either getting hurt or killed, or the choice of allowing myself to make that decision myself, to prevent that from happening...I would rather go for the latter than give them any satisfaction."
"Are you sure?"
Star nodded.
"I want to help any way I can," he said.
"There's no guarantee that you learning can or will," Coen pointed out. "It's fifty-fifty, perhaps less. A lot less."
The albino regarded him.
"At least there's a chance."
Neither Coen nor Rebecca said anything. After a minute passed, the latter relented.
"Okay," Rebecca said with a nod, "but you better pay attention."
Star nodded.
"I will," he promised as he put down the bags.
"Show me how you hold your weapon," Rebecca ordered.
The albino obeyed, taking out the handgun from his pocket.
Coen and Rebecca nodded.
"Not bad," the latter said. "Now show me how you check to see if you have any ammunition."
Star ejected, then checked his clip.
"Reload," Rebecca said as she offered the box of rounds.
The albino obeyed, taking the remainder from the box and inserted them into the clip, then slipped the clip back in and pulled back the slide along the barrel.
"Try aiming at the wall over there."
"Anywhere specific?"
"How about..." she paused, then pointed, "the sticker on that pipe?"
Star nodded, then aimed down the long stretch of corridor, his right hand nestled within his left palm. Rebecca approached him, then helped adjust Star's stance and the positioning of his arms.
"Now, aim down the sights and steady your breathing."
As the albino listened to her instructions, he felt something slip from his memory.
He was at the firing range, dressed in a dark blue suit with a black tie with soundproof earmuffs and sunglasses, shooting at the boards. To his right, a woman in her late twenties observed, also wearing sunglasses and earmuffs. Dressed in a green skirt, a grey turtleneck, a red blazer and a thick black belt with a large buckle wrapped around her waist, she had short reddish-brown hair with bangs parted to the side.
"Not bad, rookie," the woman called as he finished.
Turning away from his targets, he smiled at her smugly.
"Told you I was good," he grinned.
"Don't get too cocky now," the woman said as she approached. "You need some adjusting with your aim."
His smile dropped and was replaced with a light blush as he felt how close she was to him.
"Remember," the woman said into his ear as she looked over his shoulder, "aim down the sights, and steady your breathing until your pulse has slowed. Then, fire."
He nodded as he followed her instructions.
"Now," she began, "fire."
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Star blinked as his mind returned to the present, then realized that Rebecca was standing really close to him, nodding.
"You're quite a natural at this," she said. "Are you sure you haven't done this before?"
"Y-yeah, I'm certain haven't," he replied while reloading. "At least, I think I haven't..."
The medic shook her head.
"Amazing," she said as she departed.
"Shooting a sticker at the end of a hallway is different from living targets, Rebecca," Coen reminded.
"Still, you have to admit he's a quick learner," Rebecca replied, causing the convict to grunt in acknowledgement. She then looked back to Star with a cheeky grin. "So, Mr. Red Jacket Ninja extraordinaire, what else can you do? Fly?"
Star smiled.
"I'm working on that. Give me time, I'll do it eventually," he said with a twinkle in his eye.
Rebecca laughed. Again, that stirring in his chest.
'What the hell is wrong with me?' Star wondered.
Was he coming down with something? Had he been infected by Marcus?
'No,' the albino thought. That couldn't be it.
"Now that you're all caught up, we should leave," Coen said.
"Wait."
Rebecca and Coen looked at him questioningly. Bending over, Star withdrew his swords and held them out in offering.
"Take them," he said. "In the event we run out of ammo, I want you two to at least be prepared."
"Are you sure?" The medic asked.
The albino nodded.
Coen took one sword and tested it out, rolling it around with one hand.
"Careful with that!" Star reprimanded. "It's not a toy."
He then offered the other to Rebecca. The medic hesitated, then took it into her hands.
"It's a little heavy," she said.
"I thought it would, but you can use the armguard as a sort of brass knuckle if wielding it is too much for you," Star pointed. "Try it."
He watched as the medic threw a punch with it.
"I don't know how you can use such a thing," Rebecca said distastefully.
"Until tonight, I only used them for practicing martial arts," the albino replied grimly.
He watched as she glanced up curiously.
"So what do you practice? Karate?" she asked.
"Wing Chun and Hung Gar," he corrected.
"And you've been practicing with these since you were four?" Rebecca said incredulously.
"No," Star said. "I only acquired the blades relatively recently. The movements for wielding them, however, was something that I had always practiced. Before them, I used measured sticks, pipes, whatever I could get my hands on that fulfilled the necessary requirement."
"But those aren't the same."
"They aren't," Star conceded, "but the principles behind wielding butterfly swords would be the same for any weapon."
He watched as the medic shook her head.
"Sounds like you had an interesting childhood," she said.
Star shrugged.
"Not particularly," he replied.
"Hate to break up your little chit chat," Coen interrupted, "but I think it would be better if this was saved for later. You know, after we avoid certain death?"
The teenagers nodded. As Rebecca and Coen slipped the swords into their belts, Star cast one curious glance to the gun in his hand and pondered that vision.
'What was that all about?' he wondered.
It watched from the shadows. Three tasty little morsels, all for him. Steel claws scraped together with anticipation as it stealthily climbed through the vents, grinning behind its metallic mask as it followed.