Chapter 25: Medford Lakes, NJ – August 24th, 2004 at 3:59 am

And now confusion. Lucas stared at the unconscious woman in front of him and then looked down the muddy path. He had at least one hundred feet until he reached the other side of the forest. He couldn't leave her behind and take all of the equipment first because of the fire. For the same reason, he couldn't leave the equipment. The blaze would detonate the ammunition and grenades, creating a very late fireworks show for the Fourth of July.

Three bags and her to carry with a wounded, bleeding arm…just like the service.

Still kneeling down beside Ada, he worked the small bag from her back which contained the plaga sample and slid it into the other bag that she had been carrying. Fortunately, there was just enough space for the sample to fit inside the large duffel. He put the bag around his neck and slid his hands underneath of her body. I'm like a damn St. Bernard here…He started to stand up slowly, making sure that he had a good enough hold on Ada so that he wouldn't drop her. Lucas cradled her shoulders and neck against his right arm, resting her legs on top of his left forearm. His wound started to flare in pain, threatening to reopen and bleed profusely again. He ignored it with trained ease as he started to traverse the muddy path towards the road.

With each step, the bags shifted against his back and forced him to compensate for the extra weight. He could feel Ada breathing, her warm breath brushing softly against his neck. His feet sunk deeply in the mud at first, so he started to hang closer towards the edges of the path. Ada's ears continued to bleed lightly, collecting in the grey shirt that Lucas had on. He knew that he was opening himself up to the possibility of disease, but knew that he didn't have time to find an alternative.

As he neared the car, a sudden jolt of pain shot through Lucas' left arm, from the shoulder joint to the tips of his fingers. He grimaced, gritting his teeth; however, he didn't stop moving. The pain seemed to be getting worse.

Not a good sign.

A small trickle of blood began to drip from Ada's nose, worrying Lucas even more. The sun was going to rise in a couple of hours, and finding a place to stay for a while was going to be difficult. Blood seems to have that effect on people; I don't know why, Lucas joked with himself. Maybe we'll get lucky. The woman in his arms wasn't going to make matters any easier, at least in this condition. Trouble seemed to attract more trouble, and the new trouble attracted more. Also, both the Organization and Wesker's men were after them. And Lucas' body was starting to rebel against him.

By the time Lucas made it to the green Taurus, most of Ada's bleeding had stopped. He concluded that the pills that she ingested just before she passed out were to help with this problem. The curious part of him tried to figure out what was wrong with her based on what he saw, but the SEAL in him made him focus on getting away from Medford Lakes ASAP. He stooped down to a grassy patch of forest near the car and set Ada down gently. He unlocked the vehicle and tossed the bags into the back seat. After becoming satisfied that the bags wouldn't roll around, he went back for Ada. He lifted the spy up into his arms and carried her over to the passenger seat. The dome light cast soft shadows against Ada's features. He looked at her face, her eyes still closed tightly.

She hasn't changed much at all, except for a sense of maturity.

If only…

He laid her down into the seat, making an effort not to hurt her any further than she already was. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a white handkerchief. Instead of wiping the blood off of himself, he dabbed away the crimson spots from her ears, neck and upper lip. He then reached across her body and strapped in the seat belt, clicking it into place. Taking a final look towards the forest and the fiery blaze, he hopped into the driver's side of the sedan and turned it on. Lucas pulled out onto the deserted road, knowing that soon he would need to find a place for the two of them to rest.

After about thirty minutes on route 73 South through New Jersey, Lucas pulled off into a cheap looking hotel's parking lot in Cedar Brook. A golden yellow neon sign flashed "vacancy" towards all drivers by against the dark backdrop of the early morning sky. Ada still hadn't woken up, but Lucas could see her breathing. He had a sneaking suspicion that whatever is happening to her now has happened to her before. The pills, secrecy, and avoidance of the issue all fueled his suspicions. Both of their lives were at risk now; secrets weren't going to help anything.

He turned off the headlights of the Taurus before stepping out of the sedan. He took not of the characteristics of the hotel: a single floor, maybe ten different rooms, definitely not kept up well. But it'll do for now. There was only one other car besides Lucas' in the parking lot, near the far end of the complex. An office was at the west end of the hotel. A single lamp was still on in the office, lighting up the space.

The storm from a few days before began to start again, at first a drizzle. Medford Lakes had recently been hit with a tremendous rain storm, flooding quite a bit of the area. Lucas remembered the damage that had been done to the cabin which brought an irritated but sad look to his face. Rain came and went ever since, but some of the locals grew quite a fear of any storm that would come in. Soon, the drizzle picked up into a steady pour, covering everything with cool rain water.

Lucas reached into the trunk of the vehicle and pulled out a coarse cobalt blue towel. After letting some of the rain dampen it, he started wiping away some of the dried blood from his forearms. He knew that the gunshot wound would take more time to clean than he was willing to spend at the moment, so he reached for a plastic Wal-Mart bag that he always kept in the back of the car. Emptying the contents, he found what he was looking for: a black long sleeve shirt. The sleeves would hide the wound just long enough.

After closing the trunk closed with a thud, Stajan jogged over to the office. The sudden pour of rain water began to form puddles in the many dips of the paved lot. Rain dripped from the edge of the lips of the roofs. Lucas grabbed the wet bronze door knob, twisted, and pulled open the door.

The office was in a state of disrepair. A rusting metal desk sat in the back corner, coupled with a cheap twenty dollar office chair that was already falling apart. A wooden counter spanned across the entire length of the room, blocking any visitors from stepping in passed it. The once white walls were now any ugly shade of unintentional beige, a result of a lack of maintenance. The linoleum on the entrance side of the office was curling up from its edges, revealing the stark concrete underneath. Spotting a rusted bell sitting on the counter, Lucas dropped his hand down on it once. A sharp shrill filled the room.

A muffled 'what the hell was that?' came from behind a door on the other side of the room. Out of it came a hefty overweight man who looked older than he really was. His hair was short but scraggly, sticking up in every direction. As he approached the counter, he was buttoning a pair of faded stained jeans. He quickly grabbed the bell from the counter angrily, even though it was rung only once.

"The hell do you want, boy?"

"A room," Lucas answered, suppressing a dumb-founded look.

"Well, well. Don't get to many people here." The man looked around the room, glancing for anyone else who might've been there. "This here ain't exactly the Ritz."

You don't say?

"How much for a room?"

Scratching his chin, the hotel owner thought for a moment. As he was about to answer, a female voice called from the room that he had come from earlier.

"Stewie, hurry up! My shift is going to start soon and I don't wanna be late again!"

This time a smile did cross the former SEAL's lips.

"If you want a room, then mind your own business." A few more moments of thought passed. Lucas could feel his wallet getting lighter already. "Fifty dollars."

Lucas was tempted to argue the price by bringing up the Super Eight that was down the road, but decided against it. "Alright."

"Wonderful," Stewie replied. His slightly yellow and extremely crooked teeth appeared behind his curling lips. "It is cash only, by the way."

"Not a problem."

"I'll just need to see some ID and we'll get you a key for a room," the owner said as he slid open a desk drawer.

"Are you sure you need ID?"

The grin on Stew's face grew a little bigger. He knew that he would make a killing tonight. "Looking to have some on the side, is that it boy?" After seeing Lucas' perturbed reaction, the pudgy man stopped smiling. "It is policy, but I could make an exception for a generous guest for, let's say, monetary compensation."

Lucas sighed. "How much?" he asked dryly.

"Fifty?" he half asked, half stated.

"Fifty?!" Now this is getting ridiculous.

"The room isn't my memory, Mr…I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

Lucas started to take the money from the black wallet, hiding the ID from the view of Stew. He was just thankful that he had kept quite a bit of extra cash on hand.

"And how long will you be staying with us, Mr. Jones?" Stewie's eyes grew wide as he saw more and more money come out of the wallet.

"Three nights with absolutely no interruptions. If there are any…"

"Of course, Mr. Jones." The large man grabbed the cash from Lucas' hand before moving back to the drawer. Reaching in, he pulled out a large wooden keychain with the number two etched into it. The key was small in comparison.

Lucas took the key from him. "Glad to hear it."

As he left the office and into the rain, he heard the woman calling for 'Stewie' again. Apparently, he was going to make her late.

After unlocking the room and carrying in the numerous bags, Lucas went back out for Ada. His arm throbbed tremendously since the adrenaline in his body stopped pumping. His clothes were pretty much soaked by the rain. His thoughts were focused on the woman he was protecting. There were so many questions, but he knew that most wouldn't be answered until later. That didn't sit well with him.

He unclipped the seat belt and slowly started to lift her out of the passenger side of the green Taurus. Carrying her as he did back at the cabin, he began to make his way towards the hotel room. He turned her head in towards him so that the rain wouldn't drown her. He also used his right hand to cover her eyes.

Lucas was relieved when he was finally inside. All of the rain the past few months really started to sour his love of rain. Even though he was only outside in the rain for a few moments total, he was tired of it. A queen size bed had lain against one of the walls, but Lucas had pushed it into the corner. Two nightstands that had bordered the bed now were by the window. A TV was against the opposite wall with a sign saying how all movies would be charged to the room. A lone chair sat close to a circular table, which had a slight wobble. The walls were covered in yellow daisy wallpaper which was peeling from the corners. Water stains were also visible at the top of the wallpaper and ceiling. The bathroom was the most appealing part of the room, but was nothing special.

Using his foot, Lucas shut the door. He stepped over by the bed and knelt down, sliding Ada out of his arms for a moment. He decided to leave her in her wet clothes. The last thing he wanted to do was offend her. He pushed her further towards the middle of the bed after pulling back to the top couple sheets. Lucas untied the laces of his deceased wife's hiking boots and then pulled them off of Ada's feet. He placed them near the nightstands.

He went over to the flimsy door, double checking that the door was closed. He twisted the deadbolt, hearing it lock with a click. He tugged on the door a few times confirming that it was locked. Lucas then went back to were Ada was and pulled the blankets over her. Leaning over her slightly, he brushed some of the wet jet black locks from her forehead. Suddenly, a twinge of guilt came over him.

It's been six years, you know. Therra's gone. This is natural, Lucas.

No; not yet.

Lucas then went to the bathroom area and worked on taking off the black over-shirt. He winced as he slid his left arm out of the sleeve. The white tube socks were drenched in his blood. Stajan then undid the black belt, slowly removing the temporary bandage. All of the bleeding had stopped which was a blessing. The pain was overwhelming, but livable. He tore a new bandage from the black shirt, tossing the scraps onto the plastic sink.

Turning on the faucet, Lucas was looking for some hot water to rinse out the wound. As tired as he was, he knew that his couldn't wait. After finding out that there was no hot water, either slightly warm or very cold, he dampened one of the white towels that were sitting on the adjacent towel rack. He began to dab at his upper arm, making a conscious effort not to wipe too hard and start it bleeding again. The shot was mostly a flesh wound, but it hurt like hell.

After cleaning quite a bit of the dried crimson off, Lucas wrapped his arm with the longest black fabric strip. He walked back into the main room and moved the small chair and positioned it by the foot of the bed, his back towards the wall. The only door was the one that was now in front of him. He slid the two nightstands in front of it now, preventing silent entry. He sat down into the chair, keeping one of his handguns in his lap. Lucas double checked that the safety was on. Closing his eyes, Lucas Stajan began to pray for wisdom and for both his and Ada's safety. Before he could finish, he fell into a much needed sleep.