Their Last Escape

by antihero276

Former S.T.A.R.S. Officer Jill Valentine unexpectedly meets U.S.S. Special Agent HUNK at the R.P.D., his extraction overridden. Pushed to their limits, they are forced to work together to survive. With only days to escape the T-Virus infested Raccoon City before it is destroyed, they are stalked inexorably from the shadows by a deadly Pursuer, intent on carrying out its mission.

21. Chapter 20: Fight And Flight

Reptaliator: Much appreciated, and yes HUNK needed to have some vulnerable moments in this story, to peal back his layers and see what makes him tick. Show there's a human there. He isn't invincible or tireless, merely good at making most people think he is, the best at what he does. Jill sees through the cracks in his armor though. No need to apologize for a rant, I'm a ranting sort of person myself. If you liked the Resident Evil 3 remake, fair enough, to each their own, there were things I liked about it. My problem was turning it into the action hero stuff of the later games undermines the survival horror aspect to me. No the games were never completely realistic, I will have a level of suspension of disbelief in this story as well, and realism isn't always better, but I feel if they had restrained themselves more like the earlier games it would have done wonders for the atmosphere, characters and story. Sometimes less is more. It's sort of the difference between The Terminator and the later movies, where the Terminator in the first movie was relentless and worked to kill the target right away, while the later Terminators would just repeatedly throw their target off to the side, giving them the means of escape or thwarting it in some way. Though I fully admit I have to use some literary tricks to keep the Nemesis from just flat out killing Jill or the others, though I wouldn't stoop to him firing a rocket at her feet and her just shrugging that off lol, or Jill falling off a giant building and being fine.

As for the iconic outfit, I left it as is not for fan service but because that was the creative vision of the original game's creator, like it or not. It really visually sets Jill apart from Resident Evil 1 as well. So I decided to have three different perspective opinions on her outfit from three different characters to reflect some of the audience opinions, and establish the differing natures of the three offering their opinion:

Nikolai: "Whore. Cover up." HUNK: "Impractical... but attractive." Carlos: "Hell yeah! Read me my rights!"

Roughly sums them up lol. Anyways, glad you're enjoying the story, hope you continue to.

Nightroad816: Jill gets to go through more weapons because she is the protagonist. Carlos will use the M4 Assault Rifle, SIG Pro and grenade launcher, weapons of the U.B.C.S. HUNK has plenty of weapons to do what he needs to as well. And though I considered giving him another particular weapon, an assault rifle the U.S.S. uses, it wouldn't make sense for the story, and didn't feel like forcing a new one in just for the sake of it. HUNK and his team had a specific loadout of weapons in canon that was more than sufficient for their original mission, breaching the NEST, capturing Birkin and the virus. Then Operation: NESTWRECKER went awry, to say the least. Now he has to make do with what he has mostly. A modified TMP is no peashooter, but he will indeed use his other weapons in time, and who knows what else will happen.

Arkham Knight: Colonel Sergei Vladimir never got his due, a character that damn important to the Resident Evil universe, no less. Founder of the U.B.C.S. and Monitors, being the genetic template the Tyrants were based on, the one who covered up what happened in the Arklay Mountains, his feud with Wesker, friendship/mentorship with Nikolai, Lord Spencer's right hand man and the one who ultimately goes down with the ship trying to restore Umbrella. Him only appearing in Umbrella Chronicles, never getting so much as a mention outside that game, is ridiculous. He's one more of the many great characters with potential that Capcom let fall by the wayside over the years, forgot about, thankfully there was plenty I could do with him in this story instead. Flesh him out and his role in the company, the greater universe, expand on him by himself and in relation to characters like HUNK. Just as I am trying to do with each of the characters in this story, expand on them. He will serve as a vital counterpart to HUNK regarding each man's different relationship with Umbrella. Where Vladimir becomes increasingly fanatical and loyal to the company since his arrival, HUNK will become increasingly disillusioned/skeptical. Plenty of politics and conspiracies, motives and feuds going on at Umbrella, you'll see. There's a difference to HUNK's world during a mission and his world back at the company... the one that is awaiting him.

evolution:500: I wanted to create that stealth war Umbrella has with other companies, governments and various competitors like the Family for sure. It's not the focal point of this story, but it is the surrounding body and context and will play an important part in how things play out. There is a greater world HUNK is a part of than the mission he is on. His world back at the company is complicated, surrounded by politics, deceit and in fighting, even though he is an Agent. He has done many missions for the Board of Directors and Spencer's inner circle, infiltrations, corporate espionage and such as a spy. He is someone many within Umbrella are eager to get their hands on, as the best Agent for whatever mission they need done. He has seen and done and knows of a lot of dirty laundry with how deep in Umbrella he is, even if the political world of it all makes him weary. HUNK is a resource at the end of the day, a useful tool, despite everything else he is and what we know he can do.

Thanks for the heads up on grammar, I'll try to catch that from now on. I've come a long way from when I first started writing but there's always something that manages to slip past me lol.

Akira-Hayama: Love me the Mine Thrower, leaving it out of the remake was another mistake for sure.

Baby steps for the two of them lol it's getting there. But you are right, it's not going to be a typical romance. He's too much of a mess for that, and she has her own troubles as well. It won't be all sunshine and rainbows, that's for sure, but a struggle. Like everything else to this point.

HUNK's character dynamic and interactions with those he works closely with at Umbrella is quite different than his dynamic with others who only see him from the outside, an intimidating, impressive figure with a legend around him. You will see more of that eventually. Sort of how a man interacts with his co workers differently from those in his personal life, etc.

HUNK is what he is, Jill is who she is, because of that there will be clashes, disagreements, from how different and similar they are. Two differing but intersecting paths like that and differing personalities will have troubles. They will come to a true understanding, in time, even if they will never agree about everything.

A bit at a time I'm introducing HUNK's backstory in the most realistic way I can, through him, his memories, and things that are said about him. I had to do pacing with that, hence HUNK not having as many POV's to this point, though he will have more than before in time. The goal was to make him a fleshed out character instead of just someone everyone speculates about. Though indeed in universe there is much speculation about him, most people not being in the know, and those that are keeping secrets. I wanted to have him seen mostly from Jill and Carlos's POV, this mysterious figure, while from his own POV he is a complicated, introverted man with feelings, history and character. Who someone 'famous' (infamous) is rarely the way people perceive him within.

Thank you kindly as ever.

Rock992: Thank you, it was my goal to make HUNK something more, someone, a fully fledged character in his own right. While trying to maintain what makes him awesome, merely elaborating upon it, expanding and explaining. As for War and Death, I'd say when it comes to missions, combat, HUNK has surpassed the teacher by now and then some, just as she'd hoped he would. Though she remains a far more powerful and influential figure than he is, knowledgeable about the greater world and how politics and such works, though HUNK is still learning. She wasn't a common U.S.S. Agent by any means, has/had other functions within Umbrella. You shall learn more of her in time.

And so our heroes continue on to the finish line. Evacuation in sight. Surely nothing will impede their progress now and the story is nearly over, right? On with the show:

---

September 28th, 1998, 11:26 PM.

Main Hall, Saint Michael Clock Tower, Northern Raccoon City.

"Carlos won't be joining us up to the machine room... he's still scouting the place out."

Jill informed the masked and helmeted agent, meeting his red lenses as he turned around slowly, at least partially. He stood facing the stairs, TMP in both hands, but his head turned to the side slightly to acknowledge her presence, and her grip tightened a little on the shotgun. She felt a little awkward, talking to him like this, after her slight outburst... but she held the inner turmoil at bay. It bothered her all the same, only the idea of escaping was of any comfort any longer. Her eyes glanced away from his lenses, not wanting to linger there... she could not see his eyes, but she almost felt something accusing to them. Or maybe it was a matter of guilty conscience from her, eating away at her... what she had foolishly chosen to do regarding him. His mission. The image of the glowing, purple contents of the sample violating her thoughts again. Her eyes traveled up the staircase as she spoke, narrowing slightly as they attempted to discern any details on the next floor, in the eerie quiet of the lobby.

"We'll meet up with him later. I'm ready to go, whenever you are."

"In that case... now," He replied calmly in the wake of her words, raising the TMP at the ready. Jill glanced back over sideways at him again, and inclined her head, stepping over a bit closer to him as he too looked back up the staircase. "Let's move. We've been here too long already."

"Agreed."

Jill nodded slightly, raising the stock of her shotgun to her shoulder as well. She moved closer to the first stepped and moved up on top of it, raising her off the tile floor. As she did this, Hunk did the same, and together they started to slowly ascend the staircase, almost step for step in sync. She looked away from him, narrowing her eyes at the path ahead, and getting in the zone of focus. They were not alone in the clock tower... Carlos had confirmed as much... there were monsters, and God knew how many and what kind lay up the stairs. She wasn't about to let herself be distracted from that knowledge, regardless of everything else pressing around her.

"The entire night's been long enough as it is. Just want this over with already."

No reply came from Hunk... and that was fine with her. She knew he agreed... but she didn't really know what else to say, what to talk about with him at this point. The time for it was over. Something had changed since the train... what exactly she didn't know... her opposing feelings in regards to him were growing more confusing, indecipherable. The G-Virus weighed heavily on her thoughts... that sealed canister of destruction always visible in her minds eye. She wanted it to go away, and knew it never would. She focused at all costs on the stairs and floor above as they climbed higher over the lobby. She did not watch him from her peripheral vision... but his mere presence was enough to form that onslaught of troubled thoughts and emotions. It took all she had to keep cool, between the physical and mental pain... she wasn't sure how she managed it. How she could detach herself at times.

Maybe she was no better than him in that regard... with growing cold within. The longer the night went on. The last thing she wanted to be. He gave nothing away again, as ever... still more quiet than usual, his muffled breaths beside her a bit more audible as well. She couldn't imagine the pain he was probably in after the crash... but he did a marvelous job of disguising it. Well... on the other hand... she probably could imagine it. So far his armor hadn't been punctured... probably had no cuts, but internal bleeding or fractures were both possible and likely. It all depended on how strong the armor of his was. It resembled Kevlar, over a bodysuit... but considering what he had told her about Umbrella's experimental weaponry programs, the technology they had access to, it was probably something superior. It only made her all the more curious, every scrap of information she gathered on Umbrella. She'd been so focused on its bioweapons program, she had nearly forgot about its more conventional weapons and technology.

She was not entirely proud to be carrying a weapon created by Umbrella... but on the other hand, she very much enjoyed the irony of being able to use it against the company's other byproducts. And, Umbrella or not, she could not let anything be put to waste in the situation they were in. The echo of their boots emanated through the entirety of the main hall. It didn't take long to reach the top of the stairs together... and when they reached the tower hall's second floor, stepping off the stone stairs and back onto the tiled flooring, they were greeted by a framed picture on the wall over in the corner next to the banister, one of several pictures and paintings. This one of a beautiful woman in Victorianesque attire... probably among the original founders who had donated the clock tower in the first place, part of Saint Michael's Church across the street from the place, given its long history.

As Jill considered the picture, she watched Hunk from the corner of her eye step past her, turning to face the solitary pathway circling around the hall's second floor. Until, all of a sudden, he stopped moving, as still as a statue again. Followed by his low, emotionless and muffled voice... that somehow seemed even more detached than before.

"Valentine. You might want to look at this."

The deadly calm, assured voice drew in her attention at once and she turned on the spot, looking up with interest in his direction and moving over to his side again. As she came to a stop next to him, her eyes tracked the direction of his TMP's laser sight... and as her gaze fell on same thing it did, seeing the same thing he was seeing. She felt her insides freeze, and her legs, rooting her to the spot, as much of a statue as he resembled so often... her lips parting. Memories, each as horrific as the one preceding it flashed like lightning bolts throughout her startled consciousness... hairs on her arms standing up on end, and at last she spoke.

"Oh god... not those again..."

"Figured you ran into them before. Spencer Mansion, I take it?"

"Yes... they were developing all kinds of B.O.W.'s in the laboratories down there."

"Indeed."

She'd have taken the mutated flea things they had encountered Downtown over this particular alternative. It had taken Jill a few moments to discern just what Hunk's laser sight was resting on... something fuzzy, with matted black and brown stripes of hair running along its length. Staying perfectly still, connected to the ceiling overlooking the pathway, only a few meters from their position at the top of the staircase. For a moment, she thought it to be some kind of decoration attached to the ceiling... based on all the elaborate things that made up the place. But its presence had not sat right with her. It was about that time when it twitched... that Jill's startled thoughts went cold, and she recognized every familiar details of it.

Its hourglass-like abdomen was at least a meter long... close to the same length as each of the eight appendages it used to cling to the ceiling. It was a fat thing, like a tarantula that had been bloated up like a balloon, and hung upside down from the rafters. It moved itself a little closer along the wall, peering from each of its many obsidian, beady, soulless eyes down in their direction... the pincers of its mouth beginning to open and close. Clicking together as though it could no longer control its own movements. These movements were... to put it far too simply... creepy. Otherworldly... methodical and slow. The way each of its legs moved in a slow scurrying sent shivers down Jill's spine, goosebumps forming along her arms. There were some things, even of this earth, that did not belong. This one ranked damn near the top in Jill's books. As a little girl, she had not been afraid as most of spiders... not even daddy long legs that had an undeserved bad reputation. She'd only feared poisonous spiders, which had been a rarity in her life anyways.

Even so... there had always been something about spiders of any kind that made her blood run cold. They just... were not human. Obvious, of course... but it wasn't just that. Everything about them was so far removed from either humans or other animals like dogs, cats, birds and everything else. Aliens that existed on Earth. This... thing, covered in dirty thick hair in certain spots was no mere spider... it was an abomination, one in her mind that almost surpassed Umbrella's other creations. Dangerous as their Pursuer and Tyrants were, far more dangerous than this thing... and scary as they were... they did not have the same effect on her as the spiders. At least the Tyrants were humanoid, regardless of whether they actually resembled a human or not. There was nothing feigning even a bit of humanity to these mutations.

Web Spinners... that had been the designated name Umbrella had given them, based on some of the research notes she'd found back at the manor. They had been B.O.W.'s, experimentation on one of the many organisms of nature Umbrella had tested its viruses on. Among the mutations they considered mostly a failure, based on their obvious inability to be controlled, and unpredictable behavior. Prior to the mansion incident, Umbrella had been prepared to shut their programs down, but with the outbreak at the Spencer Mansion, they had not been able to in time... leaving more monsters for the S.T.A.R.S. survivors to wade through. There had been another variation of this particular spider mutation... and there had been, thankfully, only one of its kind, designated a Black Tiger. It had been roughly six times larger than an already inhumanly large Web Spinner... making it the size of a truck, at least. And capable of spitting great quantities of venom.

She'd encountered both it and many of i's Web Spinner siblings in the caverns beneath the mansion's courtyard... not long after Enrico had been discovered wounded and had attempted to warn them about Umbrella... only to be murdered by a traitorous coward for his troubles. Memory after memory had been opened up... each of them pouring like fluid through her mind. Eventually, the Black Tiger had been killed, and later any others that might have survived at the time of their escape would join it, when the mansion's self destruction sequence had been triggered. As she'd watched the mansion burn... she'd hoped the horrors that had resided there, including the spiders, would burn with it, and stay gone, no more than a scar on her memory. It had been too much to hope for, she recognized... hope always was a next to pointless thing, as of late. Still... even as the T-Virus had run through the city, even with her experience with the mutated spiders, she had not stopped to consider she might see one of these again.

There were some subtle differences in this one compared to its predecessors... its tone was slightly different along its bulbous abdomen, for example. But in the end it was essentially the same abomination she'd fought in the past. She wondered... as she had about the worm, how long it had taken for these Web Spinners to develop in the midst of the outbreak. She could imagine, and really wished she couldn't, them developing down in some dark, dank place in the earth... the sewer system most likely. Like the abominations Hunk had encountered down there in the biomass pods, and the worms within the hosts. Gradually shedding its layers... growing larger and larger, producing equally mutated offspring... and over time, making it up from the sewers and to the surface, finding new homes in the midst of the chaos. Or perhaps near the tail end of it, by the time most of the City's survivors were among the undead. Spinning their webs and bringing back their victims to it, as the worm had with its own hive.

The cold shivers along her spine, and pool of dread in her stomach did not recede in the least, even as she faked a pale mask of calm. Her gloved hands tightened on the shotgun, the dull, stinging pain in them reminding her where she was, and what needed to be done now before it was too late. Well... it wasn't the only reminder she got. Without warning, its bulk dropped off the ceiling and onto the floor in front of them, flipping over before it landed on each of its powerful legs. At once, it began to scurry over the surface of the floor towards them silently, moving ominously slow, taking its size into consideration... but each of its soulless black eyes were intent and focused on its prey.

Only a couple seconds after it dropped, both Hunk and Jill reacted, the red laser sight of the TMP readjusting its position and falling upon the front of the Web Spinner. Together, as one, they opened fire on the grotesque mutation. Hunk sprayed automatic fire into its midst, and thick splatters of green gore began to spill out of every rapidly opened wound. Shell casings flying around him and littering the floor. The sheer pressure of the automatic fire held it rooted to the spot, and would have killed it, had Jill not claimed that duty for herself. Eyes narrowing coldly, struggling to keep the terror silenced, she peered down the sights and pulled down on the trigger of the SPAS-12. Only one such pull was required, the near deafening boom echoing in the clock tower blasting through its thick hide and blowing it into pieces, some limbs remaining attached, while other wriggled and writhed on the floor with the main bulk of its form.

"There's an improvement... let's see you skitter around now."

It let out a low mewl of agony as it was dying, hissing as it turned over, many legs kicking helplessly in the air, amid a serious of revolting squishing sounds... like boots through thick muck. The green of its blood, courtesy of the hymocyanin within it, sprayed all over the floor it had landed on, and was already beginning to pool and run together. The echo of the automatic rounds, particularly the explosion of the shotgun, still rang in both Jill's ears and the entirety of the clock tower hall.

Parts of the Web Spinner that had been blown off continued to twitch for awhile, separate of the main bulk. While some other parts of it were trying to climb towards her... but in her shock, she found herself mistaken. Yes, technically they were parts... but not in the way she had thought them. They were far smaller than the Web Spinner, and smooth, as opposed to hairy... but given the chance, could grow to the same size, or larger than their mother, and match her details. Even then... the Web Spinners offspring, emerging from the depths of their mothers swollen abdomen that had been separated front its front end, were larger than spiders should have been... over a foot at least, with the size to match its length. Each of them scattered from holes in the abdomen that had been their home... that their mother had carried them in. Within seconds they refocused their attention in the same direction their mother had... the Umbrella Agent and former S.T.A.R.S. Officer... and scurried far quicker through their mother's entrails and blood to avenge the Web Spinner.

Jill pumped the shotgun hard, and nearly squeezed the trigger again, her heart racing and pounding, wanting to blow them back to oblivion. Before she could, the red laser sight redirected again, Hunk opening fire again was enough to stop her, to give her a few moments to think. She could not waste her ammunition for the shotgun... it was scarce enough as it was... and Hunk had the clean up well in hand, as one after another, most of the little spiders exploded in turn. A few of the dozens managed to make it fairly close to Jill, who, controlling her revulsion, drew back her boot and aimed a kick at one. Sending it through the air and splattering it against the wall, where it slid down, legs broken, and unable to move, before bringing the same boot down on top of two others. Squishing them with a crunch beneath the thick combat boots, the same sickly green fluids leaking out in a smaller puddle.

Gradually Hunk ceased fire beside her, the rain of his shell casings falling silent, once the mess had been properly seen to. There was a faint rancid smell to all the gore... and as Jill remembered, it was poisonous... at least the Web Spinner had been, whether the babies had yet to develop this trait, Jill was uncertain. It had been a blessing the mother had not been directly on top of them, or they both would have been washed in poisons when it exploded. Just one of the many obvious reasons not to let such things so close. Still, despite the rancid smell, it did not compare to the other multi limbed mutations she had come across in the city. She didn't even have to hold her breath... instead, she breathed quietly... numbly, recovering from her shock through sheer willpower.

By now, the dead Web Spinner had ceased twitching, along with each of its destroyed offspring. Jill's unblinking eyes moved slowly along, further down the pathway and around it, closer towards the only door on that level. The door they needed to continue on through... and she found herself none too surprised to find two more Web Spinners on the illuminated path closer to the old wooden door that led outside. They almost never were on their own... they congregated together, all too often. It would have been too damn simple for it to be only one of them. One of them crawled slowly up the distant wall, close to one of several broad yet obscured blue stain glass windows along the perimeter of the wall stretching around the second floor, well another scurried along the ceiling just above it.

Neither, evidently, had been drawn by the gunfire... they operated by scent and sight, not sound. It made sense... some logical rules still applied to them, regardless of their mutations. They were each of the exact same type as the Web Spinner they had dealt with... and Jill hoped it stayed that way. The last thing they needed was several variations of one monster... each more terrifying and deadly than the last. Or another Black Tiger variant lurking somewhere on the grounds. Her eyes narrowed again coldly, and her hands gripped the cool dark metal of the shotgun tighter, as she prepared to fire from the distance... not particularly wishing to get any closer, to move around the bend in the path... when a firm, gloved hand enclosed on her shoulder, stopping her. Hunk moved to her side, releasing the hand from her and moving it back to his modified TMP, which he rose again to his shoulder.

"The oil canister, or something like it. With the markings. It should be enough to incinerate these irregular mutations."

Hunk did not make eye contact with her as she glanced over to him, and instead she tracked both his red lenses and laser sight again. Watching as it came to rest on the small canister in question, attached to the wall... for refueling some of the oil lamps in the area. It was positioned below the crawling Web Spinners that moved, unaware, around it. Its metallic surface was red... and straining her eyes from the distance, she made out some of the white marking symbols imprinted on it. Explosive... and flammable. She knew at once Hunk's intent, and could not agree more... not only would it save them shells, but would engulf and incinerate anything around it. Hopefully doing most, if not all, of the work for them. Jill slowly lowered her shotgun, but kept right on gripping it tightly, before glancing again between the spiders, canister, and Hunk. She spoke up again after a pause, her voice low, but no longer so hollow, some of the life returning to it.

"Do it. It's no flamethrower, but I'll take it."

"Flamethrower would be nice."

Jill stood back and watched as Hunk squeezed the trigger once, a tracer bullet spitting out the TMP and instantaneously striking the oil canister, puncturing it and releasing sparks. Which subsequently caught fire to contents, triggering a chain reaction, resulting in a detonation. The entire canister exploded almost at once, with about the force of a grenade and the sheer power of the blast was enough to rip both Web Spinners off their respective positions on the wall and ceiling. They fell on to the second floor pathway, toppling end over end in a twin blaze, small sections of wall and ceiling, debris collapsing with it.

Flames leap up along the stone walls, tile floor, and ceiling... but without an especially flammable surface around, the flames could not spread beyond wherever the oil had splashed. It burned brightly, overtaking the power of the lights the explosion had not destroyed... and from a distance, both Jill and Hunk, who began to lower his own weapon, watching as the scorched, burning plethora of legs along the Web Spinners... at least those still connected to the bodies, kicked and squirmed and writhed with the rest of their bulbous forms. They made no noises, beyond the crackling of the leaping flames... and as she watched them burn, she felt only satisfaction... a warmth spreading and emanating within, overtaking the cold fear the initial sight of them had flitted through her.

Her narrowed eyes relinquished... relaxed... and after a few more moments of watching the bonfire, she glanced over to Hunk, watching the flames leap and dance across his lenses. There was something almost mesmerizing about the image. Seemingly feeling or noting her gaze, he glanced back in her direction at last, turning slightly and inclining his head. He didn't need to say anything, she understood the gesture and meaning at once, nodding her own head. He turned on the spot back in the direction of the path and readied his TMP again, and began to pace along it, through the thick puddle of green blood and gore, splashing through it like it were fallen rain. Jill followed closely after him, and together they moved past the first scene of carnage, and on to the second and last one on this level... rounding the corner and turning, to find themselves standing directly in front of the blaze. The Web Spinners had ceased any and all movements at last, and simply lay there, burning to a crisp.

The explosion had broken open each of their abdomens... and out had skittered their combined young... but in the intensity of the fire, they had each gone up like straw. Were themselves already overwhelmed, laying at various points around the floor... dozens of the things. There was some blood and gore around this section of the walkway... but not as much as the first Web Spinner they had gunned down. The fire dominated the majority of it all. With this closer proximity to the blaze, Jill was forced to raise her arm over her mouth and nose, to block out the smoke. Perhaps sensing this, Hunk did not linger, instead kicking aside some of the charring remains of the Web Spinner's in their path, clearing a small bit of the path, at least enough to walk through, for both of them. Together they moved through the smoke and flames, passing the many tiny body's and far bigger ones, until they had reached the wooden doorway. Hunk grasped the metal rung of the door and pulled it open, bringing in refreshing, cool night air to circulate through the second floor. Jill was able to breath again, lowering her arm from her mouth, hearing more clearly the distant moans of the infected horde around the city, gathered in the street. He paused in the door, looking back to the corpses again, and back to her as she recovered.

"Different from the Web Spinners to a degree. I'm sure you noticed. Irregular mutations like these can be superior or inferior to B.O.W.'s. There's little predictability what form the T-Virus takes in anything it mutates."

"You fought the Web Spinners before too, then?"

"Yes. Among other B.O.W.'s. Part of my training. And their testing."

"Of course you have. Would it be stupid of me to ask when and where? Who created them?"

"Not stupid, Valentine. Merely classified."

"Classified information? With you? I'm shocked. You've been such an open book with me so far."

Jill returned with a slight bitter, yet amused smirk she tried to resist. She felt like laughing when she was supposed to be mad at him... and here she was trying to flirt with him again. She must have had a concussion or something, to keep lapsing back into that, into territory she shouldn't have been in. He didn't speak, neither encouraged her or discouraged her... and the young woman in her took that for his own form of encouragement. He had never shied away from cutting down her 'civilian emotional outbursts' when she had them... yet here he was. Not saying a damn thing. Maybe it meant something. She shook her head at last, releasing a breath and gesturing beyond him to the door. Tone low and faintly amused, though also a bit resigned.

"Fair enough... you are what you are. Already hitched my wagon to you. Too late to reconsider now. Lead on then, mystery man of mine."

Hunk merely studied her a moment longer, breathing quietly through the mask. Then turned his helmeted head back and moved through the door at once, and outside onto a balcony of sorts that resided there. Jill lingered a moment longer in the doorway, savoring the fresh air, closing her eyes for a moment. Trying to recover her thoughts, get her head back on her shoulders and concentrate. Not on him, not on the G-Virus... but on the path ahead. Escape. Her concerns could bother her then. When they weren't a liability. When her eyes opened, she looked back, one last time, to the gore and fire strewn pathway they had left in their wake... to the monsters they had dealt with... and that same satisfaction remained. Even seeing another of her old nightmares again... she had not truly froze. She, like him, had done what was required of her... and she had made it... as she would continue to. It didn't matter how many other Web Spinners they encountered... or what other kinds of monsters before their escape... they would be dealt with the same way. Efficiently and permanently. At last, Jill looked away from their burning, mutated husks, and back to the balcony... and she stepped outside. Closing the heavy, solid door behind her... shutting out the twin scenes of carnage... and examining the next area around them... the balcony in question.

Apart from the distant moans, the first sound that greeted her as she stepped outside was a splashing of her boots, sending up frigid liquid that splashed against her leg. She paused, looking down to find a larger puddle of water, covering a good amount of the area in front of the doorway and stone barrier on the balcony. To the immediate left of the door, beside her, and laying in the puddle, a small stone pedestal, similar to the ones at City Hall, but of a different design, had fallen over... and it wasn't the only object laying in, or rather close to the puddle. Just ahead of Jill, at the edge of a puddle, a spotlight was connected to a small electrical generator with numerous glowing buttons and switches, positioned on the wall of the clock tower, close to the fallen pedestal. The long thick cord connecting the two was out of the pathway of the puddle, ran around it... but if it rained, that was liable to be another story altogether. Jill stepped through the puddle and stopped again when she was past it, between the spotlight and generator it was attached to, to study the rest of the balcony. The spotlight was not the only one situated on the balcony... there were two others, each of the three equally positioned on the balcony... the first having been closest to her, the second in the middle and the third on the far end of the balcony. Each of the three connected to the same generator through separate cords, but turned off.

The banisters and barrier on the perimeter of the balcony ran all the way around the edge, about a meter or so high. Looking on in that direction, it became clear there was no other door to another section of the clock tower, or another floor. Jill was about to look at the small remaining section of the balcony, seeing Hunk's outline in the perimeter of her sight... but before then, her attention was taken by the view of the outside the high vantage point offered. She moved slowly over towards the second spotlight in the middle against the barrier's edge, and she peered out over the side... starting with the courtyard below, pursing her lips. The wind had picked up a little around her, cool as ever, washing over her bare shoulders and shifting her unkempt hair slightly as she took in the sights.

The courtyard was very spacious... and although quite far below, she could discern almost every detail thanks to numerous tall cast iron lights illuminating the way... of the gardens, the statues, fountains and architecture... even a few doors centered around the edges of the courtyard paths, leading to different sections of the clock tower that Carlos was still undoubtedly exploring. Below, close to the far end of the main path, a particular sight drew in Jill's focus, being the matter that dominated the scene. The broken front end of the forward carriage... smashed through the side of the outer wall, close to the main gate... where Carlos claimed to have woken. Debris consisting of metal from the train, brick and stone from the wall and several statues it had smashed through were visible, to say nothing of the fires burning close to the hole in the wall the train blocked, among all the brick.

The wall was smashed enough to reveal more of an apartment building situated across the street from the clock tower, each of its many lights on. So... just beyond there, the crashed train was where she and Hunk had ended up. Her desperate attempt to free him from the blaze and elude the creatures still weighed heavily on her mind, with every movement of her stinging hands. Her grip slackened partially on her shotgun, and she drew in another breath of the fresh air. Despite the bad memories it brought up, her presence, standing here, above all that, standing so far away from the crash side was of great comfort. The train had mercifully managed to crash in such a way that it still kept out the horde.

There was no sign of undead or mutations scouring the inside of the courtyard... or even their bodies... but when it came to outside the walls of the clock tower courtyard... well, that was another matter. From the moment she had stepped outside, she had heard them once more... off in the distance, beyond the walls. As high as she stood, she could not see over the tall walls... but their moans were more than enough, to confirm what she knew well. The horde was situated on the front of the clock tower... hell, she could see them in the small gaps of the sealed and locked main gate, shuffling around in great numbers. Some of them pushed up against the bars of the gate, trying to get in... a futile gesture... the defenses being too powerful. But then, they had never been the sort to give up on anything.

Most of them just moved aimlessly in the night... and regardless of whether or not she could see them all, she was more than certain there were over a thousand of them out there. And that was a conservative estimate. She silently thanked whoever had constructed the clock tower and its sturdy defenses, the expensive and reliable architecture of the place, right down to its secure locks, sturdy doors, and other basic features. The place was essentially a fortified castle, or the closest their town had to one. Then again, how fitting would it have been if said defenses had been constructed by Umbrella? Maybe Carlos did have a point, when it came to cleaning this place out... they had enough monsters outside trying to kill them. The last thing they needed was a good number of them inside the defensive perimeter attempting the same thing. Better to make sure there was nothing inhuman left standing in the clock tower and grounds.

Yes, she'd prefer Carlos sticking with them... but he at least had a reason for taking off on his own. Regardless of her discomfort with it. She silently wished him well, hoped he killed all the infected and mutations.

On the same line of thought, choosing this area as one of the many evacuation spots for the U.B.C.S. had also been wise... certainly there were worse places to go for such a thing. Even with the absent, likely wiped out Echo Team no longer here to defend it. The terrain its self and architecture of the grounds working in their favor. Jill slowly looked up over the walls, and the buildings beyond them, following the billowing smoke and fire of the train into the night sky. The night was already immensely cloudy and obscured, neither the moon or stars visible on what likely threatened an impending, stormy night. It was unsurprising... the rain got pretty bad in Raccoon City, come the end of summer... and its return was inevitable. If all went well, they'd be out of here before the weather took a turn for the worst. She could scarcely see anything beyond the outer walls... but she supposed that didn't make much of a difference from where she was. She had a clear enough view of the battlefield... and it felt good to have an elevated, safe position over all the destruction, instead of standing among it. They had come so far, by now. Were so close to the end, in the northern side of the city... she dared to hope.

She lowered the shotgun down to her side, relinquishing a hand from it, moving the hand to the barrier and resting it upon the edge as she studied the sights. The air still rejuvenating to her senses, and helping distract her from the pain. She stood there for a few moments, relaxing... but was drawn from her thoughts, inevitably, by the low, familiar voice over her shoulder.

"Valentine."

Jill breathed again, and slowly, reluctantly, turned from the barrier and looked back at him. Hunk stood tall and motionlessly over near the wall, between the generator and a vast ladder that ran up the center of the clock tower. Her eyes moved up the metal ladder that hung off the side, and up at least two stories above the balcony, taking in the details of the side of the clock tower's Gothic and Victorian architecture. A brilliant white light, courtesy of the clock, shone down upon them, acting almost like a moon itself. The stone of the tower was very old and purposefully carved, along with each brick, designed to only strengthen the already obvious effect of the place. The massive dark metal hands on the clock were positioned to approximately twenty five minutes to midnight... evidently they had been making good time to this point. She took in the details of the clock tower a little bit longer, before her eyes lowered back to Hunk's lenses again, and he gestured her over to the ladder, his intent clear without voicing it... for her to take the lead. She had no objections to that... the sooner they got up there and got the signalling out of the way, the better. And she couldn't entirely blame him for wanting her to go ahead, a slight, sly smile touching her lips as she responded.

"Sir, yes sir. Little ladder climbing never hurt. At least if my hands and leg weren't already killing me."

"You'll survive."

"Yeah... managed this long. Try not to enjoy the view on the way up after me... too much. More clever than you look. Not that I've seen you."

The U.S.S. Agent merely shook his head wearily, form rigid and uptight all over again, much to her silent pleasure. She doubted him the blushing sort, but the way he tensed up meant she was doing something right. Flustering him in some way he didn't seem used to. Whatever his other life experiences were. With an unashamed wink at her reflections in his red lenses, Jill clicked the safety, slung her shotgun over her shoulder again, and moved forward, closer to him, and the ladder. Before she began to ascend, one hand moving to the metal and grasping the rung, her eyes passed over to a strange copper ornament plate beside the ladder, built into the wall. Its tone had blended into the wall when she had stood further away from it, and she hadn't noticed it earlier... but studying its design now, running her other hand over it, its presence was more obvious, with a green shade to it of sorts.

There was a key hole, in the center of the ornament... and her eyes slowly rose back to the ladder. She couldn't see inside the open gap in the clock tower from where she stood below it... but she had more than an idea someone had found a key at some point, dropping the ladder down. Yet another fortunate circumstance for them, like the golden gear. Had the ladder not been here, it was possible, if her own recovered key did not open the ladder, they would need to scour the grounds looking for another. Another irritating puzzle avoided. Glancing back to Hunk and nodding lightly, she turned her attention to the ladder, raising a boot to one of the rungs, both hands moving to the ones over her head, and she stepped up... or at least, she did until circumstances outside her control intervened.

As they always did.

There was a mighty crash behind them, back where they had come from, and both Jill and Hunk's heads snapped over in the direction of the door in time to see it splinter to pieces outward with projectile force. What had been a very heavy old door al but reduced to tooth picks, spraying every which way under the mighty force it faced. Jill watched, numbly, from the ladder... as the low, powerful thud of boots became audible, gradually stepping with a splash into the puddle... and a figure... the figure she had not expected to see again, a juggernaut of darkness trudging around the corner, and into plain view. Every step was slow, calculated and robotic, the actions of an automaton... and the dark giant stopped in the midst of the puddle and broken bits of wood and metal. Slowly, it turned its grinning rictus of a husk for a face in their direction... and stared right back at them.

"No... it can't be..."

Yet it was. A nightmare come true. Given unnatural form.

The Pursuer stood before them once more, tilting its obscenely large head from side to side slightly... the sole remaining eye in its head, that malignant sickly, bloodshot yellow, not even blinking. With it, it brought the stench of scorched necrosis... overpowering even the night air. The front of most of its armored coat was burnt, along with the flesh visible on its midsection, curtsy of their combined gunfire back on the train. Sickly patches of the purple fluid in its thick veins were dried at various sections of its body, and smeared across one side of its grinning face... a face that in some parts of its normally brown, husk-like flesh had been burnt black, and almost to the bone. Burnt, twisted metal remained embedded all over its body, penetrating through its ravaged, stained, protective coat. Fresh purple fluids dripping from the ends of the pieces of metal.

Some of the wounds in its head and face had not yet closed, and were still freely leaking a little of the fresh substance... the combined stench of its fluid and burnt state, in addition to its appearance almost made Jill retch. But her thoughts had returned to that almost paralyzing terror... one different from the fear the Web Spinners had been able to illicit within her. In the latter case, she had felt shock... in this case... she felt only dread... at first, followed by frustration... followed by anger. It wasn't fair... it should have been dead... after everything it had gone through, what they had done to it aboard the train. After what Mikhail had given up for their safety... his sacrifice partially rendered in vain, posthumously violated. How the hell had it caught up to them? How did it manage to track them? There was no way that it could have... but here it was... had chased them across the entire city in little time at all.

It should have been dead... by all accounts. Instead, it stood there before them, covered in second and third degree burns, and too many other wounds to count... but it still stood as strong as before, and gave no sign beyond its outward appearance of being injured. Its thick, dark coat was tattered, from all the explosions and gunfire it had gone through... but was not shredded apart... it hung on defiantly, draped tightly, stubbornly to the Tyrant's monolithic frame. It watched them for mere seconds that felt infinitely longer, none of them moving a muscle... before the titan of a being rose its massive hand slowly. The palm opening, separating with a grotesque, sickly squishing, purple fluid flowing and something living emerging from within.

As the tentacle parted from the flesh, the purple fresh liquid within began to drip and run, quicker and quicker like rain beneath its hand... and the squirming, writhing tentacle fully emerged. The thing extended its giant, skeletal index finger in unison. The protective material that covered its arms had been burned away to the forearms, the flesh was burnt beneath it, muscle tissue exposed... and in its hand, both of them, a long, jagged talon had grown in each. Organic, bone-like daggers mutated at the end of each fingernail. A low, dead, almost hissing breath emerged soon after, from the depths of its gullet the second its razor sharp finger aimed damningly in their direction, and rendered the only judgement it was capable of passing upon her.

Death.

"S.T.A.R.S.!"

Its tone was somehow equal parts human... and wrong. A voice that shouldn't exist, but could exist... and it lowered its colossal arm. While for a moment it had been still, and relatively quiet, it suddenly shot back both arms and raised its head, releasing a growling bellow that carried off into the night, pounding on Jill's eardrums. And it was this very growl that returned her from the abyss of her shock, her despair, her eyes unblinking as its. Bringing her to life again, knowing what she had to do. Giving her a purpose. To protect Hunk from this thing, and Carlos wherever he was... and succeed where she had failed the Captain. Not another person would die at its mutated hands... those repugnant tendrils. It had done enough damage to them already... and it was time the fucking thing took the hint.

In one fluent motions she unslung her SPAS-12 Shotgun and pivoted away from the ladder, but before she could raise it and get to work, her unnaturally quick, masked companion beat her to the initial punch... though not in the obvious way she had thought he would. While she attempted to raise her shotgun, the laser sight of his modified TMP did not settle on the man made abomination. Instead his arm shot out, towards the generator beside him attached to the wall, and he activated one of the glowing buttons on its panel. Nothing happened for a second, then there was a creaking, and a click... not from the generator, but the first spot light it was connected to, as it activated, bathing the Tyrant in god knew who many million doses of candlepower. Its entire form, and the area around it was illuminated, as though beneath the sun, while the area beyond the spotlight remained draped in shadows. The light splashed into that big, yellow, bloodshot eye, snapping it forcibly shut beneath the beam's strength.

The light was enough make even Jill raise her arm over her eyes and squint, during which she heard low muffled sounds, disgruntled and pained grunts, animalistic. When her eyes readjusted, she watched its hulking form stumble back slightly through the puddle, one giant, clawed hand over most of its face, while the other arm attempted to strike out at anything close to it. But with their distance, how distracted it was, it could not reach them. Comprehension coursed through Jill's being as she looked between the illuminated spotlight, the distracted Tyrant standing in the puddle, and Hunk operating the generator. An idea of her own, born in the same manner as Hunk's quick wits and actions, formed and took charge. It would not do to only shoot the creature...there were other factors, other ways to deal with an opponent. There was only so much brute force could accomplish compared to cleverness, and exploiting a weakness. Knowing the environment of the battlefield and exploiting it. She'd been too caught up and intent on overpowering it the obvious way, that she hadn't considered the other ways. She would try not make that mistake again. Brute force had its place... and would have its place here as well... but she would not be opening with it. Without a word to Hunk, she raced over behind the spotlight aimed at the Pursuer and door, and she wrapped her gloved hand around the large power cord connected between it, and the generator, and she gave it a tug with all her strength.

The cord popped out of its place, and from its conductor, vibrant golden sparks danced and leap about. Instantaneously, the spotlight shut off, returning the Pursuer back to the shadows, causing it to stop lumbering about painfully and grunt. Before it could lower its arm from its rictus of a face, Jill threw the live power cable into the puddle beneath its feet... and the effect was as instantaneous as the light turning off. Jill stood back behind the spotlight as blue electricity swirled through the entirety of the puddle, dancing every which way, reaching the sole occupant in the water in less than a moment. Gigantic as the Tyrant was, it seized upright rigidly as a force of nature surged through its form, the blue and white hot power running through every bit of the creature and around it. It twitched and danced like it was in a seizure, unnaturally, head turning from side to side... but through it all, its monstrous eye remained fixed on Jill and Hunk as they watched silently. The live sparks and electricity dancing in the agent's reflective lenses.

The Pursuer began emitting groans and grunts more pained and deathly than the pained ones the spotlight alone had been able to induce. Sparks and electricity continued to surge through it, countless volts... but ran not only through the puddle and its body, but back to the source. The generator conduit. Beside Hunk the generator began to smoke, and behind both of them the other two spotlights began to flash on and off on their own accord, illuminating the entirety of the balcony, blinking over and over between light and darkness. By now, the generator was not the only thing burning...flames began to erupt along the Tyrant's form, the horrible stench of its crisp flesh only worsening. And yet... she did not cover her mouth and nose with her arm... or turn away. She watched, breathing excitedly as the monster seized this way and that, struggling to step towards them, but failing. She watched every second of it, its suffering, feeling grim, cold satisfaction, more than she had to this point. Breathing hard. Watching as the bastard who had eluded her, who had murdered Brad and Mikhail... suffered the very least it deserved, as steam rose and its flesh bubbled and crisped. She watched... and regardless of the compassion she so often felt, to degrees that bothered even her at times... she felt absolutely no empathy towards this thing. Felt nothing towards it beyond contempt. She was glad to... and she found a thin, cold smile rising of its own accord... a strange symbiosis of rage, contempt, satisfaction... but no fear.

Not right now. She felt that enough, and too damn often. Not this time. Now she felt as she had watching it burn beneath the car her grenade had toppled upon it. As she had unloaded her rifle rounds into it. She felt alive.

Before long, unfortunately, the generator could not take anymore, and it overwhelmed, parts of its metal melting, others exploding all over the ground... the lights blinking off as Hunk turned away from the explosion. It was not the only one of its kind... behind Jill, both of the other spotlights were also overwhelmed, and the bulbs and screen covering the bulbs exploded, showering the balcony once more in both darkness, and flying shards of glass. Like countless times before it, the glass rained through the air around Jill... but unlike those times, she did not attempt to take cover from it all, instead stepping calmly over to the start of the puddle. She stood, watching the burning Tyrant, not truly feeling any of the additional cuts she was receiving from the glass. She ignored each and every one, as the warm scarlet droplets ran down her back, the back of her left leg, and her arms.

A couple pieces cut her face mildly, but she did not even blink... and the shower of glass all over the place, falling both on to the balcony and raining down into the courtyard quickly subsided. At which point, as Hunk rose again and turned back to face the Pursuer... Jill was already raising the SPAS-12 in both hands. The instant the electricity stopped running between the Pursuer and puddle, and it stood, a pained, smoking, revolting mess... at least, more than before... Jill took advantage of its disoriented state. She took aim, peering down the sights and squeezed the trigger, shooting it in the exposed hole in the stomach of its coat they had created aboard the train, spraying more purple ooze down its legs, and into the murky puddle. The shotgun was another explosion that rang through the night, through the courtyard and beyond the walls... and Jill's cold smile was replaced by a livid stare of utter contempt, her eyes narrowing. Hardening within and without. The force of the blast rocked her shoulders and knocked it back a step or two, and it grunted... two steps that Jill herself took forward, passing Hunk... who still did not raise his TMP... simply watching the bandaged and bleeding officer take charge of the problem. Jill pumped the shotgun hard, and released another slug into its mid section as the prior round was ejected. The Pursuer's rigid bulk was knocked another couple steps back, as Jill stepped into the puddle, splashing through it. Still it had not recovered from its electrocution, still burning, flames licking up its coat, smoke billowing.

The great wound in its gut was opened even further, the dead flesh parting widely, purple blood continuing to run all over the place. The sight of the purple fluid brought back the vial of the G-Virus in her minds eye... and only served to enrage her further, as the memory of what it had done to Brad and Mikhail was doing. Her heart raced in her chest, adrenaline coursed, and she lost herself to it. Pumping the shotgun again hard, she rose it to her shoulder and squeezed the trigger, blasting it in the face. The pellets and sheer force of the round slammed into its mouth, and further up its head... and while even this close range shot wasn't enough to blow its head off... most of its face was splattered in blood, blinding it, and exploding its jagged, razor teeth all over the place.

The force of the blast rocked it backwards on its feet, further than before, at least three staggering steps. It rose its armored, huge arm over its face again defensively, attempting to swing the other, as its back pressed against the stone barrier around the balcony. The shots driving it past the remnants of the door it had come through, wood splintering further under its boots. Jill nearly shot it again as it grunted and growled fiercely... but it wasn't enough. Not anymore. She couldn't shoot it in the head again, it covered its face... but there was an alternative... there was always one... and she didn't care about the risk. No more running away. She would fight it. As she should have... would have on the train, had Mikhail not pushed her back to safety. Had not Hunk talked her down, held her back. Its dead, guttural voice escaped its great maw again. Muffled through its arm. The word angering her even further.

"S.T.A.R.S.!"

Sluggishly, blindly, the arm not over its head swung in her direction... and raising her shotgun and tilting it to the side in both hands, clasping the dark metal, she charged forward with all she had. Nimbly ducking under a clumsy, slow, sweeping blow aimed at her head, and she fired another round in its chest, then slammed her shotgun against the giant's midsection with all her strength, using the momentum as a battering ram and pushing the Pursuer forward. She barely moved its bulk... but where it stood precariously and unsteadily, it was enough, gravity, and the laws of physics took over for her and did the rest. The weight of the thing was too much for the barrier and banisters to handle, and the stone crumbled behind it as it was driven back... and gave way. There was another mighty crash as the barrier broke, and the Pursuer fell backwards, toppling off, not into the courtyard, but the side of the clock tower. It made no sound as it fell... no growl or howl, or sign of anger or maliciousness. Something about that troubled her even worse than the sounds it made. The last thing she caught of it was that hateful, wide yellow eye, staring back up at her as it fell. Something in its gaze that troubled her even further by the implications of its intelligence.

Shock.

For a split second, she was certain she had surprised it... but she didn't dwell on it too long, as her chest rose and fell, panting hard. She was too busy being startled by herself. Half of her shocked it had worked, that she hadn't gotten herself killed. She watched as it toppled down into the darkness over the side of the building... and although she heard another crash as it landed somewhere far below... from where she stood, she couldn't see where it had landed. And whether it still lived and moved. She heard only the distant moans of the horde futilely besieging the clock tower gates, shambling in the streets. Part of her was certain it had fell beyond the courtyard wall, out of sight... she hoped as much. That it had slammed into the concrete... into the horde out there, too injured to rise again. Still breathing hard, she forced herself to come down from the high of her adrenaline, anger and now forming fear... breathing slowly. Trying to steady her heart.

"Lucky... lucky amateur..."

Jill muttered to herself between deep breaths, shaking her head. As she peered over the edge, she strained her ear to listen over her rapid heartbeat, and the distant undead moans... tuning the out... but she did not hear any other movements. Seconds passed, and only gradually, as her thoughts caught up, did she remember the flashlight connected to her strap. She activated it, shining it like a spot light of its own down into the darkness, at last illuminating the spot below. She narrowed her eyes, scanning carefully... to find only the rubble of the railing... parts of its surface sticky with whatever putrid purple substance comprised it... but it was long gone. Jill stopped leaning out and unconsciously turned off her flashlight... standing almost entirely still, as the high of her adrenaline ran its course. Unconsciously she rose a hand to her heart, feeling it race, as numb shock and realization of the risk she'd taken overtook her.

How... had she done that? Been reduced to that point? Her action had been... near suicidal, willingly getting close to it.

Not just willingly... wanting to. Needing to. To punish it, for all it had taken, and what it was driven to take. To try to make it feel some bit of the pain it had inflicted on others. Her fingers beneath the glove shook of their own accord, as she struggled to regain control of herself, the cold wind passing over the balcony, and over her... but it did nothing to steady her any longer, or relax her. She felt numb, exhausted and drained as the hatred and anger left her gradually... replaced by a self loathing, and shock. She should have just shot it off the roof... it would have been the wiser course of action... and she hadn't. She'd needed to get all the more primitive, and club it over the side. She'd not allowed her calm and coolness to control her... she'd reverted to something else entirely... and in the end, that probably scared her more than any Tyrant... to be driven to the edge of losing control. In the middle of battle. Letting her hate for the thing win out over sense.

Control... Jill finally managed to close her eyes, balancing out her breathing as she held the shotgun down low at her side. In her minds eye, as she closed her normal pair, she saw two things... the Tyrant laying a battered, burnt mess somewhere at the base of the clock tower or in the streets... twitching, bleeding and burning. Unable to recover properly from the electrocution... perhaps a weakness of its after all. It was a good thought... but one that returned the turmoil she felt within. The frightening satisfaction she had gotten, doing what she had... the foolishness of it. That image she didn't know if it was true or not. But the other thing she saw in her mind was, and she turned on the spot, looking back to confirm it. The other thing she saw was Hunk's armored and masked figure, standing behind her... still over by the broken power generator... watching her silently as she stood in the puddle and peered over the side... having watched her through all of it. Time passed, and still he said not one word, tilting his head and appraising her in silence. As though he had never seen anything quite like her in that long, mysterious career of his.

Some part of her found she liked him looking at her that way... even after what had transpired. He moved slowly down towards her, then, lowering and tucking away the TMP... moving methodically as she held her ground where she was. As he moved he withdrew the First Aid Spray from his medical bag... and upon reaching her she looked back up at her reflection in the much taller figure's red lenses. Her pale, partly bandaged face slightly blood stained from the glass cuts, as her arms, left leg and back were bleeding. At least in the areas without any bandages upon them already. Jill grimaced as she watched the scarlet fluid lightly dripping... and heard the hiss of the bottle, felt the cold medicinal spray, starting on her limbs. A bit at a time spraying a little amount on each cut. Moving to her face and doing the same to the few cuts there more carefully than before. When he was done, his gaze lowered very slightly from where he towered over her.

"Turn around."

That low, authoritative voice again... that sent shivers down her spine. She nodded very slightly, obeyed at once, turning her bare back to him. Feeling his gloved hand firmly but gently upon her shoulder, causing her to draw in a breath. Biting down upon her lower lip a little unconsciously, goosebumps rising again, though it had nothing to do with the weather. Feeling a heat upon her cheeks as they flushed in spite of herself. One at a time he sprayed the cuts on her back... took care of her medically... as she had wanted to him. Still... it felt good to submit to his strength, the protection he gave to her. In spite of everything that had happened, she still felt no hesitation there. Distracting her from her turmoil. Before long at all, the spraying stopped, and he spoke again close to her, a murmur in her ear.

"There. Should tide you over. Until extraction."

She felt his hand retract from her shoulder... felt its absence within. Jill finally turned back around to face him, as he tucked away the bottle again and closed up his medical bag. Taking up the TMP in both hands again, still watching her closely. Standing together near the broken ledge of the balcony. She felt herself smile and nod gratefully, watched it form in the reflections of his mask. Somehow, at last, Jill found she could speak. Found the air circulating around her returned to her lungs, and formed quiet, yet audible words... words of curiosity that she both felt, and felt detached from. Words she felt needed to be said, if only to bring her back to the world. Voice a bit hollow.

"How did you know that would work, Hunk? Blinding it with the spotlight?"

"I didn't. Yet Birkin's eye was sensitive as well. A weakness. The spotlight was there. Was worth a shot."

"Past experience and improvisation. I see. Won't argue with the results."

"Nor I yours, Valentine. Though how do you know the electrocution or fall will kill it? It didn't work last time."

"I don't. But a girl can still hope for the best. The Captain... Mikhail. His sacrifice for us... it was in vain. All for nothing, in the end."

"No. It wasn't."

"What do you mean? He... died for nothing. The Tyrant... survived, Hunk... it came back for us. For me."

"It was made to. Yet the Captain's intervention bought us time. Ejected it from the train. His sacrifice was not for nothing. We're still here to make something of it."

Her lips parted... but she found she couldn't argue with him on that. His firm... optimistic opinion on the matter quite unexpected. She had expected a cold, distant agreement on the matter... but he said something instead... that she realized should have came from her mouth. Would have, if the crushing weight of this all wasn't steadily becoming unbearable. Despite everything, he held that weight for her. The two of them fell silent together... though not an uncomfortable one, like earlier. He was... right about the Captain's sacrifice, she knew deep down. She had merely let her bitterness win out. Her despair. For the moment. She nodded at last, agreeing. Still... if this was a victory, over that thing... and very clearly it was... they had defeated it almost without taking a scratch... beyond some flying glass cuts for her... then why the hell didn't it feel like one? It didn't in the least... and she was damned if she could figure out why. They had survived... it was gone... had probably fled by now. If it was coming back up here it would have by now. Closing her eyes, she imagined those tendrils pulling it along up the side of the clock tower... crawling like the Web Spinners... but quickly repressed the troubling image. It didn't matter... she didn't want to think about it, about that, right now. She didn't feel tired, or exhausted any longer... she didn't even really feel the pain of her burns and wounds.

They were there, but distant, at the edge of her focus and troubled thoughts, and would not go anywhere... but she did not give it power over her. She opened her eyes, turned, and looked back on the spot to Hunk... who stood close by, watching over her. Holding the TMP down at his side in one hand, and watching her, as smoke billowed from the melted generator behind him. An unusually impressive figure... not that it was the first time she'd noticed. She had half expected him to let her have it, to berate her for the stupidity of her reckless action against the Pursuer... maybe he saw something in her face... or maybe there was some other reason to it, but either way... he didn't. Surprising her yet again. Instead he turned on his boot and marched back down the balcony towards the metal ladder up the clock tower, turning again to face her. Remaining beside it, retaking his old spot before the Tyrant's rude interruption.

He said nothing further. He pointed nothing out. His voice hadn't even been a trace cool when he had spoken. Part of her wanted him to berate her recklessness... but nothing he could say or do would be any worse than how she felt. Maybe he sensed that... she had no clue, he was not entirely predictable, no matter how almost robotic some of his manner was. He hadn't even stopped her as she'd strode towards it firing away... hadn't even joined in with his own gunfire... either sure she could handle it on her own... or something else. More than ever, she wished his face were exposed... so she could look upon his true eyes... and see what she found in them. See the way they looked at her.

Often times, that was the only way to truly know someone. As it were... he remained an enigma... one she wanted to know, one that confused and eluded her... but not necessarily in a bad way. A mystery was its own reward. The cop in her, perhaps. A challenge. It encouraged her curiosity... and she was as stubborn as him when it came down to it. Finally, Jill swallowed, took another breath, and slung her shotgun, holding the sling absently in one hand, and she made her way back through the murky puddle. Her boots crunching on the various bits of glass and wood around the balcony as she moved over to Hunk, and the ladder. She did not glance at or make any eye contact with his mask as she moved and passed him, even as he watched her. Let him look.

She focused on the ladder alone, as she resumed the task she had been interrupted in the midst of, but she started up the ladder with a chill and disquiet that had not been there before... or if it had, it had been hiding. Or she'd been too blind to see it. Jill clasped the metal rungs as she climbed higher and higher, focusing on above, and gradually, she reached the entrance of the machinery room, climbing up and over the last rung on the ladder, pulling herself up from the long climb. No sounds of infected or mutations greeted her. Before she fully scanned the room, she looked back, three or four stories higher above the balcony, and back out over the courtyard and outer walls, both of which had shrunk smaller from her altitude... and that wasn't the only thing to catch her attention.

She could at last see fully beyond the walls and main gate... the horde of infected congregating around the outer wall coming into view.. hundreds of them, staggering in the streets, a sizable amount of that number trying to get in through the front gate. While another mass of them was gathered around the rear carriage... the same ones she'd fought earlier... others didn't seem to have a clue any survivors were within the clock tower. It was fortunate the flocking effect was not a powerful as previously thought. Yes they could work together on the same task, but only when they were all alerted... any who had missed the train crash, or survivors that had come out, would not have any interest in getting into the clock tower like the others. They were far more individualistic than cooperating beings. They all simply had the same motive, sustenance they didn't need. A lot was owed to their lack of intelligence... if the T-Virus had not robbed them of all but the most basic behavior, instincts... there was no telling what might have happened... how far the virus would have spread.

But then... she remembered the pale, tall, emaciated things. The one that had ambushed her. Its malevolent intelligence. The way the others had submitted to it, deferred to it. It had seemed more alien than mutation... the image of its grinning, featureless face troubling her all over again. Suppose such things could direct the horde? Take control of them somehow... pheromones, maybe? Anything was possible it seemed, with what she had seen the T-Virus capable of doing so far. She had to force it from her mind, as she did the Tyrant.

Jill breathed quietly as she watched the devastation from above... it really was everywhere... cars were crashed all over the streets around the clock tower... she could glimpse several ravaged barricades and police blockades... and several smoking buildings as fire of varying amounts leap up them. From where she was, she could make out the tracks the train had been derailed from, leading back south to Downtown. The roads were lined with street lights, illuminating all the monsters that passed under them... and even from her distance she could make out infected dogs. Even several crawling, lurking mutations along the sides of buildings... Lickers mostly, vanishing into alleyways, or scaling the side of a building here and there with ease. She even saw a few flocks of some infected birds off in the distance, searching for fresh corpses for their own bottomless appetites of flesh. Death was draped over an entire city... over her home. Whatever she saw of it felt like another devastating blow.

Mercifully, beyond that, most of the details of the city from where she resided were obscured by the smoke, and darkness of the night and clouds. Sparing her at least some of the devastation. Her lips thinned slightly, and she sighed, the sounds of Hunk nearing the top of the ladder after her returning her to the present. She turned back towards the machinery room and stepped away from the opening to give him more room when he made it up, her boots clacking on the stone surface. In the meantime, she studied the room, starting with what was directly in front of her. It was a fairly confined room... little space was wasted, particularly in regards to the actual machinery that operated the clock. There were assorted mechanism's and devices of rather large sizes. There was a long metal railing all the way around the perimeter of the various machines for safe keeping. While she'd taken a tour of the clock tower in the past, this area had, of course, been off limits... nevertheless, she had seen the smaller clock tower interior at the R.P.D. and much of the layout was roughly the same. Only the scale was different.

A series of dim, but reasonably effective lights along the ceiling illuminated most of the area for her... and the whole place reminded her of some industrial era workshop of sorts, with long metal pipes, and even small vents running around the room at certain points. Her eyes drifted off to the right calmly, as she examined what was visible there. She couldn't see past the corner of the railing and machinery, that probably led off to where they needed to go, but before that point, over against the eastern wall she could glimpse a big cabinet of sorts with numerous shelves stocked with assorted equipment, jars and boxes, most of it all rather dusty. Close beside this cabinet was a small red wooden table that a typewriter, another typewriter, had been set upon, fresh paper and ink ribbons close by. She studied this for a moment... and her eyes drifted over to her left hand side, to the western wall of the clock tower, as behind her she heard Hunk nearing the top.

The patter of his boots and gloves against the metal grew slowly muted... as though someone had turned the sound on a radio dial... as she felt herself freeze within again, ice water dumped through her blood stream and gradually spreading. Glimpsing the truth, as to why the ladder had been waiting for them. They had not been the first people that night to reach the machinery room. And even if doing so would have taken them much longer, and more effort... it would have been worth it in comparison to the very real, existing alternative before her. Maybe if it had been them, her, Hunk and Carlos, who uncovered the golden gear from its original spot... and whatever key opened the ladder, lives could have been spared. Jill's heart sank in her chest, and her eyes fell, the pain returning harshly with the cold, emptiness she felt. Hopelessness. Her fingers slackened on the sling of her shotgun, and her arm fell down to her side. She numbly heard Hunk step up in the doorway behind her... and heard the distant echo of its voice, as he undoubtedly caught her expression, and her stillness.

"Valentine, what...-

He fell silent behind her, the moment he saw what she did. She didn't say anything. Neither did he. All she did, all she could do, was silently reach into her pocket, produce the golden gear, and hand it off to Hunk, not really feeling or caring for what she was doing. She didn't take her eyes off them throughout, and when she was distantly aware the agent had taken the gear... she began to walk, slowly, very slowly over to the scene, passing the machinery... stopping only when she stood no more than a meter from them, gazing unblinkingly down at their forms. Her senses, her hearing and sight grew a bit fuzzy... and she felt far too calm... when she should have been screaming. Crying. The only sane responses. She didn't know if Hunk was still watching her actions... she didn't really care... or care for much of anything else in that moment. It was the worst thing that could have happened, in the wake of the Pursuer.

"Oh God..."

They lay together in the corner... quite obviously dead. A man and woman... no... a man and a girl. The man was another U.B.C.S. mercenary, like Campbell, wearing the all too familiar green and black uniform... and red, so very red. The wall was nearly painted in it, along with the wooden surface of the large object they lay against. The back of his head was missing, and his posture was both slumped, and propped up in different places. His head was slumped against the side of the object that almost resembled a dresser, as well as his shoulder, and it was his right knee that remained propped up, with his right arm laying against it. His rifle was also quite unslung and leaning between his arm, and the object, as though he were resting his arm on the sights. His left leg on the other hand was curled, but lay down in the puddle of scarlet beneath them.

If Jill didn't know any better, he almost looked like he was merely tired, catching a break... but his glazed over eyes were wide open and seeing nothing. In life he had been a young man, no older than Carlos, a brunette as well, who barely looked like he belonged in a uniform. Unlike Carlos's uniform, the sleeves remained very much rolled down, everything but his head covered up in his stained uniform. The blood was still very fresh, and running all over the place... his boots would have been sliding in it... and even from where Jill stood, it began to touch the tips of her own boots.

Her eyes moved over to his other arm... his other hand... the arm wrapped around the other body. A young girl's upper body, with light blonde hair , lay across his lap with her face pressed into the mercenary's vest, and her back to Jill. She was wearing a neon pink shirt with short yellow sleeves, along with a pair of darker shorts, and matching neon yellow socks and blue sneakers... such was the trend of some kids and teenagers now. Her legs were stretched out across the floor in the puddle of blood. The mercenary's crooked arm was wrapped protectively around her, his gloved hand on her shoulder. Like the mercenary, it almost looked like she could have been sleeping... even more so, really, she had no obvious wounds on her from what Jill could see at least, unlike the mercenary. Yet, watching them on the floor, that was more a wish of hers than a reality... far more. The kid wasn't sleeping. The kid wasn't sick. The kid wasn't going to get better, rise up and leave the tower with them, escape the city.

The kid was dead.

There was no way around that. There was no rationalizing it. A girl who could be no more than twelve, and who by all means should have had a promising life ahead of her, could not have even that any longer. She was beyond it all, and further away than one could hope to travel in their life. Jill saw the dead girl as she was, as she looked at her... and she saw Sherry's face again in the ventilation shaft. Haunting her. Reminding her of her failure. Jill stood silently, feeling herself grow colder and paler, goosebumps ran across her limbs, and the pain remained distant... no longer mattered, as she struggled to breath. It didn't matter how many times she saw it, the dead... especially the young... she felt it every time like a knife ripping apart her entrails, a burning pain mixed with a coldness. It was only now, at times like this, where she couldn't hide how much it bothered her. She didn't want to. She didn't care about appearances. Hunk, if he was still there, could stare, for all she gave a damn. Why she ever bothered pretending to be strong was something she couldn't figure out, especially now.

None of it mattered... nothing did... if things like this could happen. Her eyes lowered past the mercenary's arm, and the girl's body, to the SIG Pro pistol, like Carlos's, that had done the deed, laying in the puddle as well. It wasn't alone... there was a pocketbook of sorts close beside it, stained with blood, but the pages mostly sealed up within. Jill didn't know how long she stood there... but she became numbly, distantly aware her body was moving again, of its own accord. She barely seemed aware of the items and weapons she was carrying, the weight... she felt weightless, and unmoved by pain... as cold and robotic, perhaps, as Hunk may have felt. Or more likely... their Pursuer. She stepped into the puddle of blood, ignoring it, and ducked low, leaning over their bodies, her disquieted eyes moving between the two of them, and then down to the pistol and pocketbook. She ignored the pistol, and took up the pocketbook in both gloves, pealing it open. There was a black pen connected to the rungs, and she began examining silently the pages within. Starting at the dates corresponding with his deployment to the city. Even as she did so, focused on them... not all of her could... she could not remove their corpses from her minds eye, or her peripheral vision, tormenting her... as much as his written words did.

September 26th:

It's only been three hours since the mission started, but the team is already down to me, Campbell and a few others. The number of the zombies and mutations is far greater than we expected. There is no hope left for this city. I do not know what has befallen the platoons, but I can guess. We have already injected the antibody for the virus, but I'm not sure that it will work. I don't know about the others, but the only true cure I know of is not to be bitten. I don't know if I will survive any of this... it is like nothing any of us have ever endured. Even with our advanced warning, compared to the four platoons.

September 27th:

We managed to reach the clock tower. Out of desperation we robbed some wounded survivors of their weapons and used the surviving citizens as decoys. We were taught to do this in order to survive in the the battlefield, to accomplish the mission at all costs, but I never enjoyed it. No other Umbrella personnel have reached the Clock Tower yet... either because there aren't any left, or they found one of the other evacuation zones. However, a girl showed up at the clock tower before me. She is one of the survivors. She looks just like my sister before she starved to death... I won't let that happen to her as well.

September 28th:

I wanted to evacuate early this morning as soon as possible, but the girl didn't. Her father insisted that he wouldn't leave the city where his beloved wife rests in peace. I really wanted to save the girl, but Campbell said, "All I care about is our lives." That's how I felt before, but now... it's different. Fuck Colonel Vladimir and his secret missions, his orders. This 'Monitor' shit. Proud and haughty aboard the Leviathan, nice and safe as he watches it all play out from afar, twiddling his thumbs, sending no reinforcements. Send in more platoons, damn it. Send in Umbrella Security Service for all I care. This wasn't what I signed up for. Even with the fortifications and defenses, the clock tower has become a dangerous place and I don't want to make any more mistakes.

I will try to get us to safety... Campbell is trying to signal the chopper as well, but to do so a puzzle is required. We have one component, and must find the other. I will get the girl somewhere secure, and try to wait for Campbell... but he has been gone awhile, the radio has been silent... and I have no way of knowing if the clock tower is secure any longer. If escape is even possible. A Quarantine Zone has been erected around the entire city, survivors shot dead last I heard. And even if we had the means now to ring the clock tower bell... how do we know the chopper hasn't already fled or been compromised? That all our efforts have been for nothing? We will wait... and we will see. If worst comes to worst... I will do what needs to be done.

Jill reread the pages a couple times... but grew all the more distant from the pages gradually, to the point she barely saw them anymore... at least physically. She held the pocketbook loosely, and she contemplated his words, her eyes slowly rising, and meeting his own blank, unmoving ones. They were dark, like the shadows fallen over his pallid features... and she breathed. She didn't know entirely what he had gone through... the notes were not detailed, but what was there gave her a big enough story. The desperation he had spoken of... using citizens as decoys, terrible things to survive... ordinarily she would hate him for. But considering everything she herself had gone through, how worn down she felt just now... she felt no desire at this time to judge anyone or anything... even Umbrella.

She was tired, and not just physically. In her spirit. Even things that would normally make her curious about Umbrella, like the mention of an 'antibody', 'Monitor', further mention of Colonel Vladimir, and his weapon stealing, was of little account. Minor details, if anything. Things to be considered when they left, but not here. No... regardless of whatever troubled past this young man had had, including the loss of a sister... it seemed he had tried to do the right thing at least, before the end. Had tried to make a difference, where so many others would give up. It had been nearly a day since the last journal entry... perhaps they had simply lost it to despair... or one or both had been close to succumbing to infection, until he put an end to it... their supposed antibodies not working. She wouldn't put it past Umbrella to do... why would they share a possible T-Virus cure or resistance with one of their common mercenaries, of all people?

Based on what he had said about them injecting their antibodies... it just rose further questions. Umbrella didn't care for the U.B.C.S... it was that simple... their own founder, the Colonel, had sent his men to die. So why care enough to try to immunize them? It could very well have been the virus itself, to silence them, regardless of whether they completed their mission or not. Maybe the mission had been meant to be a failure from the start. There were a whole lot of maybe's, when it came to these things... corridor after corridor worth of mental puzzles to figure out, unanswered questions, and doors locked forever on the path of discovery... doors that would be locked forever, when the nuclear strike, or whatever it was, came. She had no time to analyze that... she knew she'd be doing plenty of it in the future anyways. When she escaped... and put everything she could together against Umbrella.

He had tried to save the girl... the least he deserved was posthumous recognition... in the form of-...he didn't have a dog tag, on his neck. He didn't have one anywhere, as all the others had. Where the hell had it gone? Had he lost it, dropped it, forgot it back at his base before the mission? That wasn't right... where the hell was it... that wasn't fair. He deserved better... might have had a family back home that would never know he was dead. Her eyes swiveled around his body... but as she looked over his midsection, her eyes stopped... on the back of the girls head... the back of her neck... noting a metallic glint. She wore a metal necklace around it... and one entirely familiar, that gave Jill pause as she reached for it. Dog tags... she couldn't read them where she was... and the more she considered it, their presence on the girl's neck, and not the mercenary... the more she found that maybe... taking them with her was not a good idea. The young man had given them away for a reason... maybe to comfort a dying girl... maybe to give her hope... it didn't matter his intent, he'd had one, and gone through with it.

Did she have the right to pry on that matter? To undo his gesture posthumously?

No... she didn't. She had no damn right to interfere... no matter how much she wanted to know his name. It didn't matter, she'd never forget him, or her, or any other lost soul in the city, whether she had known their names or not. Her hand, frozen outstretched, reluctantly withdrew away from the dog tag necklace... and fell back to her side... and she lowered her eyes miserably. She wanted to cry... the key word being wanted, but couldn't. She felt numb, and she hated it. She'd rather be a person and cry, cry in front of Hunk if it came to it. She didn't care... but she couldn't... feeling miserable about her failure to do so. She did not want to become unfeeling, or distant... that was not who she was... but she had seen too goddamn much since she had become a cop. Deep down, she knew she felt it, felt everything... but it had built up past the point where she could convey emotion, right now. Now more than ever, she knew she wasn't as tough or invincible as she strove to be. It was a miracle she had even made it this far... and she didn't know if she could have done it alone.

Distantly, she closed up the mercenary's pocketbook and tucked it away in a pouch of hers... all she could take of him, when she left. Or rather, she noted, as her eyes caught something that was glinting between his knuckles, in the light around the room... one of the things she could take. Her feelings did not change, her distantness... but she reached over to his hand, the one around the girl's shoulder, and she parted his fingers. Something silvery and shiny dropped into her palm instantly,... no, there had been two items within his hand, and each had been a moment or two away from falling on its own without her help, from his slackening grip... and in the same light that illuminated it, she examined the mall metallic objects. The first thing studied was darker than the other, but its metallic surface still shone decently... it was a bezel key, rather different from the one already in her possession, the handle resembling a finely crafted ring of sorts. Her thoughts returned to the copper plate at the base of the ladder, with the keyhole in it, and she put two and two together.

Where they might have found it had been anyone's guess... but it was a damn good thing they had. She examined every groove in the key, before moving on to the second, and rather more interesting item. For a second she had mistaken it for a coin of sorts... an easy enough mistake to make... again. She'd made it earlier, with the golden gear that had been on Campbell. A shiny, silver gear, of the same configuration as the golden one sat in her hand... a bit bigger and heavier than a coin, but nevertheless familiar. She examined it for a few long moments, understanding. It took more than one gear to get the clock tower's signal going... they had found the key and silver gear, and probably stayed up here for safety, as they had waited for Campbell to find the golden one.

Campbell had gotten close... but not close enough. In her minds eyes, she saw them waiting up here... waiting to leave... to get clear of the infested city, but it had never come, perhaps as they had succumb slowly to wounds. She had no idea how accurate her thoughts were... but they did not feel entirely far off. Regardless of the truth, that only the dead knew... both Campbell and this young mercenary had spared them potentially limitless danger, finding the keys to evacuation. They could not reap the reward of doing so... not now... but it would not be entirely in vain. She would tell their story. What little of it she knew, the good and the bad. Her hand closed around the silver gear, and she looked back to them once more. The world slowly seemed to return around her... very slowly... but she felt... in the present, again. It was a bittersweet feeling... but it was the the only one she could get. Her disquieted eyes studied them... and her soft, quiet... almost toneless voice spoke, when she willed it to, paying the dead of the clock tower the respect it was due.

"Thank you. Both of you. All of you."

Jill rose gradually from where she was, standing over their fallen forms entirely, tucking away the bezel key and her eyes drifted on, to the large wooden object they lay against. She found she had been mistaken... and understandably so, about what it was. It was neither a dresser, nor another cabinet, like the one against the wall on the other side of the bodies. It was a... music box. A music box with elaborate ornamentation, carved from wood and well polished, taller than she was. There was a golden metal circle of some kind, a mechanism behind a clear window, undoubtedly the inner components of the music box, while further down upon it were buttons ranging from A to F on the outer perimeter of some golden metallic configurations, that almost resembled, ironically, a clock... or rather, clocks, the design of a few visibly etched as a design into the metal. It was all fancy... but what drew Jill in was not the designs... but the small, stone woman figurine resting in the center most ring among the designs... an angel, with a pair of spread out wings.

It faced to the west on the music box, in the direction where the A button resided. Curiosity over taking her, in spite of her other feeling, the tangled mess of them, she pressed the button, and waited for the angel to turn... but it did not. Instead, music... slow, haunting music, a chime, began to seep out from within the music box, a steady tune that reverberated though Jill's depths, her eyes remaining on the angel. The music echoed throughout the clock tower's machinery room... and Jill found it had an effect on her... effects, tranquil, serene... and depressing, all at once. She was calmed... but that wasn't necessarily a good thing. It was relaxing... like the moment before death, slipping slowly, and vanishing... or rather, like some deaths... peaceful ones. She didn't speak from personal experience, of course... she'd always been under the threat of death, but hadn't yet neared it. She didn't know what it could be like... there was so much in life she didn't know or understand... and she tried to.

She blinked slowly, gradually, allowing herself to do so as the song went along... and she allowed herself to relax, in spite of the hopelessness she felt. She knew she would have to shake out of it, shake off its effects, as well as her hopelessness, and soon... it couldn't help her, and could endanger her and the others... but she allowed herself to feel it, a little longer. She didn't want to put the barrier back up... at least not yet. She was sick... of being strong for the sake of others, rather than herself. She allowed herself to feel every ounce of what she tried to live with, not understanding how she ever had, all the losses she and countless other had faced.

Jill shook her head, and simply breathed. She wasn't quite sure when the song ended... but she came back a little more, and by which time, the haunting chime had fallen silent, leaving the place as quiet and still as the grave. Jill's hand tightened around the silver gear, reminding herself she was still needed, that things were needed of her, even now... especially now. She stepped slowly backwards, away from the angel figurine... away from the music box... and away from them, the images following her even when she turned around away from them. She paused where she stood, to find Hunk was no longer present and watching her... though at what point he had silently left his position near the entrance and typewriter, she didn't know. How a man his size in all that gear could appear and disappear into thin air was an impressive feat by its self. Or maybe it hadn't required much skill this time... how far away her thoughts had been.

She strained her ear, and could hear him, off around the corner past all the machinery, tinkering away at something. Her left hand closed around the metal railing at the perimeter of the machinery, another sensation of pain sweltering through her gloved, bandaged hand... she had almost forgotten about it. She could feel the pull at the back of her mind to look back at their bodies... but her duty, the silver gear in her hand... prevented her. She took another step forward, then another, and another. She wished she could say it got easier with each one... but it didn't.

All she could do was keep stepping forward. She passed around the corner, glimpsing another shelf on the far end and some more boxes, further lights down there shining along the way. She moved a little quicker, until she reached another corner... the last one, and stepping out into the open behind Hunk, she paused, watching him silently. He stood with hi weapons holstered in front of the main operating gadget of the clock tower that barred access to anything else beyond it, examining its twin large dark metal gears... though they were not of the same size, one was a fair bit bigger than the other... while in the center between them was an empty space, large enough for another gear. Based on the fact Hunk held the golden one down by his side, she had been right... it was not enough.

His other glove ran over the surface of the machine gently, perhaps searching for something he had missed. The gadget wasn't the only thing at the end of the corner... on Hunk's left side was another storage container, like the one she'd seen down in the front room... and elsewhere in the city, of course. Its presence here made a bit more sense, she supposed... it was probably full of tools and equipment to maintain all the machinery. Off to Hunk's right, on the other hand, were a couple of large steam pipes connected to the ceiling and wall, with a vibrant, large red pressure valve connected to it. They were situated beside a small step ladder, which by extension, was positioned beside the tall shelf she had glimpsed coming around the corner.

She looked back over to the machine Hunk was examining, and her eyes rose over the panel he stood behind, to find the tops of three colossal gears within the center of the machine, undoubtedly the main gears that, when activated by the smaller one's in the panel, operated both the clock and bell signal they needed to send out. Evidently, he had heard her boots moving up the stone surface beneath them... for he finally stopped what he was doing and turned slowly her way, looking back over his shoulder. Before he could say anything, she held out the silver gear to him, and he examined it in her palm... but she had the feeling he was looking at her vacant expression just as closely. At last, he wordlessly turned the rest of the way in her direction and took the gear from her, holding both the silver and golden compact gears. Like her, he seemed to have noticed the telltale grooves and slits in each... the fact that both had to be fitted together.

He pushed both against one another, turning them slightly, until at last, like snapping a puzzle piece together, it clicked, and the two were fastened into place, the glinting gold and silver, and their edged uniting as one gear... one side silver, the other gold... and both at long last ready. Hunk watched the combined gear closely, turning it over in his hand... but Jill didn't. She watched Hunk... and she saw both him, and the corpses in the same room as them. She felt foolish... embarrassed, speaking up... especially the question she asked of him... but something deep within her forced her to do it, forced her to address the situation, not leave it hanging in the air unmentioned. It was disrespectful... not right, to do otherwise. She began calmly, quietly, her tone not shifting in the least... as she asked the question countless others had before her, even knowing the answer.

"Why did they have to die... Hunk?"

His attention moved back to her, and he lowered the combined gear back to his side... watching her for a long time, watching each other. For a minute or two, Jill expected him either to not speak, or address her words, and simply turn back to the machine and send out the signal... or to point out the absurdity of what she had asked. The childishness of it. They were both adults, grown ups, who had faced no shortage of dangers... they resided in a dead city, death was around them on all sides... why should the deaths of two bother her so? It did... there was no solid answer to it... she felt for the dead creatures outside, or rather what they had been before the T-Virus, but she had no problem setting them truly free of their torment.

Why was it monsters like zombies... did not bother her as much as inanimate corpses did? She expected, and part of her wanted Hunk to berate her about it... shock her back to reality and ground her... but she knew she wouldn't get one... he hadn't for whatever reason, been outright cold with her for some time now. Just distant, very distant and detached at times. But not cruel. She felt certain he wanted to turn back away from her and get back to work, to not address the topic... but even amid the cold numbness she felt, the disquiet and haunting images, something alive stirred in her when he did speak, did address the matter, even in such a simple, obvious way. Just to have him, have another, understand. Maybe he had recognized that look in her eyes from somewhere... he hid things well... but she did not believe she was the only person alive in the machine room who was holding on to something. Carrying something, some weight. How, she wondered... had the music box effected him in any way, as it had her?

"I don't know, Valentine. That's the truth."

"I think that's the worst truth possible for something. That there is no reason."

"I understand."

"You would, wouldn't you? Seen it all, huh?," Jill asked quietly... there was nothing accusatory in her tone or look as she peered over into his lenses, only an inquisitive nature. "I suppose it'd be futile to ask what made you who you are... what brought you to this point. Working for the human monsters that you do. Where death is your name... and occupation."

"That..." He replied after a long pause between them. For a second she had thought he wouldn't even respond to it... but as usual, he surprised her. As she remained where she was close to the storage box, he slowly turned his head away from her and moved over to the panel slowly, methodically, raising the combined gear and inserting it into the empty section between the larger gears. There was a click and ting of metal as the gear locked into place within the panel. He remained standing where he was in front of the panel, drawing his gloved hand back the moment he fastened the gear into the machine, still watching it, as he addressed her. "...is the question. A good one."

"One others have asked, no doubt. Classified too, I take it?"

"Yes."

"That's fine. I have no expectations here. Just glad you're here... that you have my back."

The U.S.S. Agent studied her at that... but didn't reply. The spokes within the two larger gears began to creak and rotate around, in unison with the gold and silver gear they were now interconnected with, and the teeth started to spin. In the gaps of the larger gears teeth, the teeth of the combined gear clicked into them, only to leave, and unite again as the gears all span, the machinery coming rumbling to life before their eyes. Beyond the panel, in the center of the machine, the gigantic gears began to shift and spin as well... and mere moments after it began to do so, came the bell, reverberating throughout the clock tower, and by extension, much of Raccoon City.

It was undeniably audible, the ringing echo of the bell, but it wasn't as loud where they stood as she had thought it would be. Her eyes swept the ceiling and rafters... and she understood why. The bell was far higher up... the machine room was not the highest point on the tower, regardless of it feeling like that. It was probably for the best... the last thing she had needed was a headache on top of all else. The chiming echo was surprisingly peaceful, almost serene, and an especially welcome sound for more than one reason. Yes, there was the obvious one, it was the evacuation signal that would get them the hell out of the city... but moreover, it overtook the echoes of the moans outside, overpowered them and extinguished their presence... maybe that was what Jill found most peaceful about them. The sound, in spite of the horrific images and memories in her mind... gave her back a measure, however minuscule, of hope... and she latched on to it as best she could, breathing deeply.

"Thank God... we're almost there, aren't we? I can't believe it."

"Believe it. All the same... do not lower your guard. Not until we're in flight and away."

"Of course."

"Keep it together, Valentine. We can do this."

It rang at intervals, unceasing intervals of three seconds, starting up again just in time to keep the moans of the horde at bay. She glanced back down to Hunk in front of the panel, expecting him to turn and get them going, to head out to the courtyard... but as she had been distracted, it looked like he had activated the intercom in his helmet, and was speaking to one of his contacts over the chiming... though not loudly, he did it openly. It didn't bother her, she found, as it had earlier. It interested her, rendered her curious, as to what they were speaking about... but it didn't upset her to see an Umbrella employee openly talking to the company. Maybe it was the honesty of it that she was starting to understand. Earlier in the night, he'd tried to conceal it from her... but she'd discovered the truth, or some of it at least. Maybe it was that he was no longer treating her like she was stupid, and understood her well enough to be open, to not offer her as much reason to be alarmed as chatter behind her back most certainly did. That must have been what the gesture with introducing her to his tech contact had been about.

She found, in this calm, rare calm, in which even the pain wasn't so bad, that she appreciated his intent... even if the motivations behind it were possibly none too ideal. She listened in... and felt no shame doing so. He was inviting her to by doing it in front of her... and she found, as she had the last time, she couldn't hear the voice on the other end of the line he was speaking to, undoubtedly an ear implant of sorts, or whatever technology he had access to. Capable of matching up frequencies to her own radio, before he had turned it off. She didn't make it obvious she was listening in, didn't strain her ear or shift her stance in any way, and his back remained to her... but she knew that he knew she was listening... and he was ok with it. She had not been listening from the start, but she got the particulars of the brief transmission... on her side of it, at least. A transmission punctuated by his pauses now and again as he listened to whoever was on the other side.

"...-affirmative, Fly Girl... the signal has been activated cleanly. We ran into little... overt resistance on the way up to the tower. We aren't sure entirely when, or even if it's on the way, how long it'll take. If the chopper gets here within the next hour, I'll contact you with further information when we're on our way out... and will do the same if that hour elapses and the chopper does not arrive as planned. We are proceeding down to the courtyard now. I'll meet you back at the Leviathan. We can get everything sorted out then and there. Yes, Fly Girl. Good hunting, and luck in the Quarantine Zone. Keep up the good work. Agent Hunk, over and out."

She watched as he lowered his hand from his helmet and turned on the spot, away from the rotating gears in the machinery, and his lenses met Jill's eyes again, and he stood silently for a moment. None of what he had said had given away much... besides some points of curiosity... a 'Fly Girl' as opposed to 'Nighthawk''... something about a 'Leviathan' again... that name kept popping up. Some base of Umbrella's perhaps. She wanted very much to know more about his work, what he did, his background and what he knew about Umbrella... but she more than recognized now was neither the time nor place to ask further questions. Questions she already knew she would not get an answer about from him. Another 'classified' subject, as ever. The ringing of the bell, and what it meant, was more important to her... evacuation. It robbed most of her curiosity, and replaced it with a clear goal. An objective she had no trouble focusing upon. She was tempted to radio up Carlos as Hunk had done with his... 'U.S.S. Command' and let him know they were on their way. But she was certain it would be an exercise in futility. She had little doubt he heard the bell loud and clear as he had been clearing out the area, and would be waiting for them in the courtyard by now. Despite his tendency to play the hero, she knew well enough he was no fool, and wanted to be out of the city as much, or more so than they did. Hunk moved rigidly away from the machine, stepping past Jill and inclining his head to her slightly.

"Let's get the hell out of here. Out of this city. Been delayed long enough as it is."

"Don't need to tell me twice, big guy. Right behind you."

Leading the way, Hunk moved ahead of her, stepping around the corner and pacing down the stone floor. Jill didn't look back at all the machinery, rather followed after him quietly, and followed the hypnotic rhythm of the bell. Only then did she become aware she had traced a path of bloody boot prints down to the machine panel... boot prints she opted to ignore. Moving past the pipes lining the walls and some of the cabinets, they reached the table with the typewriter, and the opening of the machine room with the ladder. Hunk stepped through the door and lowered himself partially down over the side, his boots meeting the metal rungs, and his gloved hands finding the others. Jill remained near the doorway a moment longer... and in spite of her ear overwhelming desire to leave both the clock tower and the city without looking back... she couldn't entirely.

Her troubled, disquieted eyes met the two bodies in the corner another moment longer, passing over them and the music box... and she had to force herself to breath again as her heart pounded within her chest. The bells became a distant hum in her ears with each passing second... and she knew if she didn't force herself back now, and on... she never would be able to. She couldn't let what they had done been for nothing. More sacrifices she couldn't allow to be done in vain. She looked away, back out over Raccoon City from near the top of the clock tower, and she breathed the fresh night air, and savored the peace of the lack of audible moaning. The noise of the clock tower did not seem to make them flock much more than usual, but there were a bit more bunched together in the streets than they had been earlier. A worrisome sign... but not yet a pressing one.

It was a fact they were capable of detecting sound, for whatever reason. Hopefully they would be out of here by the time the clock tower drew even more of them. She adjusted the shoulder holsters of her weapons and turned around, lowering herself over the side as Hunk had done. She could hear him moving down the ladder below her, and she picked up the pace, moving down one rung after another quicker than she had ascended the clock tower. Even moving as fast as she did, it almost felt like it lasted forever. All through it, she kept her ears pealed for any sign of the helicopter... but knew she was getting ahead of herself as her excitement, anticipation, and concern grew... it'd probably take some time for the helicopter to get there... not that she felt too keen about waiting any longer than needed. She felt an anticipation perhaps worse than any other point she had been in the city... they were so close.

Hunk reached the bottom of the ladder below her, and pretty quickly she did the same, her boots touching the stone floor of the balcony again, crunching through some of the glass.

She released the Ladder and took the time to unsling her shotgun, while Hunk already had the glowing laser sight of his TMP scanning the area around them. She glanced absently to the smoke still billowing from the generator on the wall, before looking past both it and Hunk, down towards the murky puddle and the broken railing from before. Leveling her shotgun ahead, she stepped over to Hunk's side, and she took the lead, moving past the spotlight, over the power cords and broken generator, and down to the puddle in front of the door amid the echoing ring of the bell. It sounded all the more majestic hearing it out in the open like this.

She moved through the puddle, sending ripples throughout, but before reaching the door she glanced over the side of the broken railing again into the darkness, instinctively... but this time she did not bother using her flashlight. She turned back to the door, grasping it by the handle and pushing it open, leaving the door ajar as she took the shotgun up in both hands and stepped through onto the second floor of the main hall. The moment she stepped in, the ringing of the bells grew slightly muffled... but not so much yet, standing this close to the door, the door being left open by Hunk when he joined her inside. Jill moved long the pathway on the perimeter of the second floor, bound for the stairs... but first there was the matter of the still burning Web Spinners and their offspring.

The fire had gone down slightly, with nothing to spread itself to... but the horrible burning smell remained, and she rose her arm to her nose as she stepped around the burnt, bloody remains and limbs, stepping through the green gore and trailing another path of footprints, her boots crunching on one of the smaller crispy spider corpses now and again, breaking them apart. Even knowing the Web Spinners were long dead, she didn't take her eyes off them as she passed... she wasn't about to take even a single risk around the mutant things... they always came up with one nasty surprise or another. She moved further on down the path and around the next bend of it, glimpsing both the first Web Spinner and its young they had shot to pieces, and the beginning of the staircase beyond them. Keeping pace together, Hunk and Jill moved down past the fresh, bleeding mutations and reached the steps... starting down them as the bell continued to emanate through the main hall.

"Hostiles below. Ladies first?"

"My kind of gentleman."

Her brow arched with some mild amusement as they proceeded down the steps quickly with her just ahead. On the way, looking ahead to the main hall below, Jill caught sight of the group of infected scattered about below that Hunk indicated. Nearly a dozen of the walking dead, rotting former civilians, their moans at last growing audible to her ears once more when they caught sight of the two living moving down to meet them, giving her every instinct to shut them off. Jill, knowing damn well she needed to get in closer to them, did exactly that when they reached the main floor, stepping off the staircase. Taking the lead without hesitation. Four of them came at her from different positions, and leveling her shotgun at the first, she blew its head off, splattering it all over the floor where it fell in a heap, before pumping it hard again. The second was almost on top of her, and she drew back the the butt of her shotgun and smashed the creature in the forehead, knocking it into one of the others, and slowing both.

The next one, who had been a businessman of sorts, uttered a great moan and reached its arms out at her, attempted to seize and take her off guard. Like the first, she shot it in the face, the high powered slug taking off most of its head... and the moment she shot it, she moved on to the others, so calm she barely even breathed. She no longer felt a true fear close to these things... not at the moment, at least. The ringing of the bell of evacuation gave her all the encouragement she needed to do more than keep her cool. She took the time to shoot the other gnashing, bloody creatures in the head as well... and all this happened at the same time Hunk's red laser sight shot down a trio of the creatures from afar, including one who had found Campbell's body and had begun gnawing on its throat, each receiving a burst shot for their troubles, falling atop Campbell's body. Blood leaked at various points around the main hall, dripped and ran together into puddles... some of them twitched for a time, while others had been dealt with so well they remained still.

"Guess they wanted a flight out of the city too. Can hardly blame them."

"I have a strict policy of no infected being brought aboard my extraction choppers."

"Glad to hear you'll make exceptions for stunningly attractive former cops, at least."

Jill muttered back with a slight coy smirk, receiving only a welcome, slow exasperated shaking of his helmeted head. Repressing a laugh. The moaning died off once more, and after scanning the area in case any others were present, when she deemed it secure Jill used this lull in combat to reload her shotgun, inserting another eight rounds from the many slots on her bandolier. She slid the red shells back where they belonged and pumped the cool black metal once more. Her eyes scanned over the various flesh eaters... and she wondered distantly where they had been before in the clock tower, how they had made it into the main hall. It was entirely possible Carlos had not done as well a job cleaning the place as he had intended to. It didn't much matter, she supposed... no matter the monster type, it had a nasty habit of showing up in places least expected, and at near random times. Life... or rather death, found a way. Jill wasted no more time than she had to, and after finishing her reloading, during which time Hunk joined her at the foot of the stairs, she rose the shotgun again and continued quickly, her boots echoing in tandem with the echo of the bell. She ran through the midst of the bodies, pacing through the thick puddles of blood seeping around the tile flooring, and making a beeline to the main pair of great double doors leading out into the courtyard. Jill and Hunk reached them together in no time.

Slinging the shotgun back over her shoulder... knowing damn well Hunk had her back regardless of what might have been on the other side of the doors, she grasped both handles and pulled them open firmly and widely, the fresh night air rushing in to meet her as she hurtled outside, her excitement rising from within, and on her expression. She felt a warmth, that same optimism and hope that had seemed so far away from her... yes, she still felt the dread, of course... but it was a rare moment where it was not predominant. Having thrown open both doors and stepping outside beneath the second floor balcony... Jill stopped only once, as the doors slammed shut behind her and Hunk... her eyes moving to the ground in front of the door. In spite of what she saw... another dead and torn up mercenary in the telltale bloodied uniform, it did not rob her of her hope... it was too late to help the dead... the only way they could be helped and honored was by surviving long enough to tell the story of the city.

He was not the only body in the start of the courtyard... there were perhaps a dozen black birds, infected crows, who had been shot to pieces, their feathers and bloody bits all over the beginning of the path. Beyond the remains of three infected dogs, in varying states from a hail of gunfire, none of them pretty, and each in puddles of assorted bodily liquids as well, all of the still. Spent M4 casings were all over the place around the creatures remains... though if it was the work of the dead mercenary, she could not determine... he was armed with the same weapon. Then she remembered Carlos had said he had ended up out here... it must have been him who had secured the courtyard, before coming to the library. She scanned the corpse briefly for a dog tag, but glimpsing none, Carlos's work again no doubt, she recognized the need to move on. Stepping respectfully around the man, and continuing out from beneath the balcony, and down the main stone pathway, past the large woman statue and fountain close to the entrance, and into the openness of the courtyard with Hunk close behind her.

She passed one of the smaller though no less impressive statues along the way of an eagle perched, and than a pair of cast iron lights. She stopped, alongside Hunk, only when she reached the near center of the courtyard, on a section of the stone path between the crashed front carriage of the train amid the rubble of the wall, and a section of the garden, the sealed main gate of the clock tower walls close by. She turned back around, facing the clock tower, her eyes sweeping the dark, cloudy skies around it. In the midst of her excitement, she was only distantly aware that at some point the great clock had stopped chiming... she supposed it only rang a pre set number of times for the signal... and as its echo faded off into the night, it was replaced by the returning moans from beyond the walls of the clock tower. Even then, her determination did not falter... she still heard the triumphant bells in her mind, and held on to them. The signal had gone out successfully... it was only a matter of time before the helicopter arrived.

This was it. They were nearly at the moment she'd been dreaming of. Part of her hadn't expected to get this far... another part of her had hoped. That part was the most predominant thing in her mind at that moment. But not his.

"Where is Oliveira?"

The muffled voice at her side brought her back down another level to reality, and her eyes lowered from the sky, glancing around the courtyard, as the agent was doing. She was a little ashamed to admit she had almost forgotten about that, in the midst of her anticipation... she had nearly forgotten her duty, a duty to others, not herself. She had to hold part of her anticipation at bay as she recognized Hunk was right... the U.B.C.S. mercenary was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes moved along the walls, to each of the closed doors spaced around it, expecting to find his familiar grinning form somewhere in one of them, maybe waving, running over and cracking another of his jokes to them, as seemed to be his habit... but it was not to be.

They were quite alone in the courtyard. Pieces of here anticipation and contained excitement ebbed way, little by little as the seconds passed... replaced by an enveloping uncertainty, and concern. He should have been there... the bell had been loud and clear enough. She'd though he would beat them there, he was closer to the courtyard than they had been. He hadn't been... no, surely not. He could take care of himself just fine, he must have gotten held up somewhere... whatever the reason, it must have been good. She blocked out a grim, dark alternative to his state, and glanced back over at Hunk when she had finished scanning the entirety of the area around them.

"I don't know..." Jill admitted, raising a hand to the radio clipped to her shoulder strap, activating the radio attached there. She rose the communicator to her face closer, but did not yet press down on the talk button. "But I'm going to find out."

"You do that.", Hunk replied shortly, turning on the spot and staring in the direction of the main gate past the smashed red train. Jill's eyes swiveled to it as well, to find some of the zombies had glimpsed them, and had been riled up by the sight of a fresh meal out of their reach. The red laser sight of the TMP passed over foreheads, but fired on none of them. The sight of them all lined up, so many of them, did not frighten her... it was their relentlessness alone that gave her pause. "There have been enough delays. We will not be waiting for him long if he decides to slow us down."

"I'll give him the good news."

Jill replied a little dryly, with a slight smirk, in spite of her concern. She worked to keep everything in perspective, and not dread over what she didn't know... it wasn't easy... it was far easier to assume the worst... but by now in her life, she knew better than to live solely in her fears. She had not come this damn far to let it own her. In spite of Hunk's words... she was mostly certain he was joking. She knew he would be willing to give Carlos at least a little time. Especially since the helicopter wasn't even there yet. If he planned on leaving without Carlos without knowing his condition, then he would be leaving without her as well. She'd simply bring up the fact he hadn't left her to burn in that apartment even though she had delayed him... even though he had gone out of his way for her. See how he responded to that. She activated the talk button on the radio, and looking back ahead, studying the massive clock tower's hands, indicating it was nearly fifteen minutes to midnight, she spoke into it, her tone assertive and clear into the radio frequency, overtaking the moans behind them.

"Jill to Carlos, Jill to Carlos... come in Carlos, are you reading me? The signal has been sent and the helicopter is on the way. We're in the courtyard now, waiting for you. Might want to pick up the pace... you know how Secret Agent Man gets, over."

Hunk's mask shot back in her direction at this, away from the horde... and Jill merely smirked some more at him gloatingly. Mouthing the words 'deal with it' in the reflections of his lenses, as she listened carefully to the static over the line. She was sure he was annoyed at least partially by the nicknames Carlos had given him... especially when she joined in on it, but he wasn't about to show it overtly. Still, she took a little pleasure out of it, getting some reaction out of him. A glimpse at the man in there. She winked slightly, and glanced back over to the clock tower, waiting for some response. Fortunately, it didn't take as long as it usually did. His familiar accented , amused voice washed through the minor static moments later, joining them.

"That I do Supercop... Corporal Oliveira here reading you loud and clear. Same with the bell. I heard it earlier... everything within miles had to. I was just clearing out the dining room, outside the chapel... found a few things around the clock tower, items and whatnot that could help us. I'm in the main hall now, heading up to the second floor, over."

"What for, Carlos?", Jill asked into the communicator incredulously exchanging another glance with Hunk, her amused eyes growing more alarmed and concerned. Her eyes rose up to the second floor balcony they had vacated earlier, and she watched the smoke from the generator drift up into the sky lazily as she spoke. "You won't find anything up there but dead monsters... we cleared it out already. And we don't need any more supplies, were evacuating, not digging in. We're in the courtyard, where you should be. Over."

"I can tell... looks like you two had a nice romantic spider cookout here without me. If it's all the same to you, I don't like my mutant spider legs and young on the well done side. As for the courtyard, I'm aware of that... I was going to meet you there, but it needs to wait a little longer. When I was out there earlier after the crash, I noticed the skies were pretty damn cloudy, on top of what looks like a storm on its way, and all the buildings on fire around the city. I got a couple flares here, I figure I'll light one up when the helicopter gets within range, better we make things easier on the fellow pulling out boots out of this fire, no? Over."

"I'm pretty sure he already knows where to land, can't miss a courtyard this size."

Jill suggested, considering his words uneasily... both sides of the matter. Still that bad, nagging feeling in her gut... why? What was there to worry about? They were in the home stretch... she couldn't let that uneasy feeling take charge. Her eyes scanned the skies over the clock tower, over Raccoon City... and she found she couldn't quite disagree with all of his logic, even if she found it rather alarming, concerning, at the way he was keeping separate from them. There was logic to it... but it didn't seem necessary, a necessary precaution. She remembered, checking Hunk's pockets earlier, he'd had some deployable sky flares himself. If they needed to use any, wouldn't it make sense to use them where it would be landing? It didn't sit entirely right with her.

"But you do have a point. Why not just light it up here in the courtyard then? Over."

"Too late now for that Jill, I'm already there... take a look at the balcony... I think I can... yup, there you are. Looking good, even from here. Over."

Jill's eyes dropped back down to the balcony, to find that just past the open doorway to the second floor, beyond the railing, a familiar small green and black shape with an illuminating flashlight stood peering over the edge, back at both her and Hunk. She watched as Carlos rose a hand and waved to them... and even from their distance, she could make out that telltale grin of his. She waved back at him in acknowledgement. It relieved her concern a little bit, seeing him again, relatively no worse for wear. Even if he wasn't down in the courtyard with them, he was ok, and close at hand.

"Took your sweet time getting here, didn't you?", Jill smirked slightly, rolling her eyes, an all too frequent habit around the young man. "Are you sure you're alright? You were out of contact for a long time. Over."

"As good as I can be in this deathtrap of a city." Carlos replied through the radio, though from the distance they were from each other, she could also hear the faint echo of his voice from afar, she heard him from two sources, in unison with the undead moaning behind the walls. With the proximity of the radio, it helped bleed away the undead noises, as the clock tower had done when it had chimed. "I think I cleaned most of the house... took awhile, but it was worth it. Got a good haul of Echo Team's supplies... found no survivors of them though. I honestly thought there would be more zombies by now... figure Echo Team is to thank for that. Gotta hand it to the former owners too, they built this place to last. I'm surprised that gate hasn't toppled yet... look at them all out there. Over."

"Agreed. It's not perfect, but I still think it's safer than the R.P.D. It could have been worse. You missed a few zombies though, we took care of them in the main lobby on our way down, as I'm sure you saw. Watch your back up there, I doubt we're as safe here as we'd like to be. No telling where more might be lurking."

"Hey, you won't hear any objections on this end, Supercop." Carlos replied to her, and from the distance she could see him looking around the balcony, including the smoking generator and broken, overloaded spotlights, and then over to the broken railing close to the door. His head seemed to lower slightly as he, likely, at least Jill thought, studied the murky purple tinted puddle of water, and whatever other liquid had joined with it earlier. After studying each in silence for a few moments, he looked back down their way and began talking again into his communicator, the amusement not missing from his voice, but interest joining it. "I'm starting to think I miss out on all the fun. What in the hell happened up-

He was cut off from voicing his curiosity, his voice disappearing over the open communication channel, when it came from off in the distance... perking up Jill's head slowly in the direction, up towards the sky. From afar, Jill glimpsed Carlos doing the same, along with Hunk at her side. It was a familiar sound... not loud, hell, barely even there... but its familiarity overtook the moment. She couldn't even see it at first, in the clouds... but the swishing of rotor blades could the be mistaken for anything other than what it was. A rare, warm smile of triumph broke out over her features, and she glanced back down to the balcony, to find Carlos's form removing the flare he had alluded to earlier, slinging his rifle and lighting it up, just as the chopper's outline broke through the clouds in the night sky. Bathing the entire balcony and himself in the flare's green light. She heard Carlos roar with laughter, whooping victoriously over the radio and into the night above them.

"Fuck yes! Come in for the landing you big beautiful bastard! Over here!"

At once, Jill knew the helicopter was not of the same make as those Brad had piloted, those she and her team had used to in their service at the R.P.D... those had been more simple Bell UH-1 Iroquois helicopters, used all over the country by the police. Whereas this one was far more benefiting of the U.B.C.S. it belonged to. It was darker, camouflaged, possessed superior armor plating and size by comparison, capable of complimenting over twenty soldiers most likely. Jill knew enough about military vehicles and weapons... enough to say with certainty the helicopter was an Atlas Oryx, designed and manufactured in South Africa back in the 80's. She couldn't say she was too surprised that Umbrella's military was in the possession of them. the company was notorious for doing business abroad... globally really, with a hand in probably every country. It went along with their habit of recruiting criminals, soldiers and mercenaries abroad to do their dirty work for them. It was probably the same with their Umbrella Security Service branch... if more selective.

The Atlas, slowly approaching, was armed with a couple 7.62 MM door mounted machine gun turrets in the open doors on the sides, each one manned. She saw the crew inside, their shapes at least. Dressed in the U.B.C.S. uniforms and body armor. Still... the details were only at the back of her mind, she recognized, and overtaken with ease by other matters. She felt a warmth, emanating and spreading within her, and she could not shake the smile that had formed as her heart raced within. The pain again grew distant, detached again... it didn't matter. Not now. Little did. Having lit up the flare, Jill watched as Carlos waved the bright incendiary back and forth in the air over his head wildly, attempting to signal the Helicopter with the burst of vibrant, living green light pouring out the end.

She heard him let out another loud whoop and cheer of victory from afar that echoed over the courtyard as he did so, and Jill found her own arms raising as the Atlas flew high above in slow, steady revolutions around the clock tower, its walls and courtyard. Even knowing there was no possible way the pilot could hear her, her voice, excited, burst free from her lungs of its own accord, and not only did she not do anything to stifle it, she let it go freely. She didn't regret it, either... the helicopter was essentially a floating jewel in the sky, greater in that moment in worth than anything Jill could imagine. Never before had she seen a sight so beautiful as the one she did in the here and now. Of all of them, Hunk alone remained silent and still... she could see him studying the situation distantly from off to the side, the light of the courtyard lamp posts reflecting off his red lenses ominously, light distorted red... what was on his mind, she had no clue... but it didn't matter. Even he would have to agree with her about what the helicopter they had struggled so hard, had lost people to get to, represented to them.

Salvation. Escape. A future.

"Down here!"

The shout burst from Jill's lungs excitedly, in spite of herself. She waved her arms back and forth a few more times as she watched the helicopter move through the night, descending a bit more until it was level with the clock tower... but she lowered her arms, before long, recognizing Carlos had the situation well in hand better than she did where signalling was concerned. She looked over to Hunk, who, sensing her stare, slowly looked her way... and she smiled a bit more. He stood tall, with his TMP down, but in both hands, ready to be snapped up... even now, at the end of the road, he did not seem capable of relaxing. She turned and stepped over closer to him, placed a gloved hand on his shoulder, in an attempt, perhaps futile, but one she felt necessary to relax him, to make him feel at ease. The sting of pain in her hand was worth it... and she didn't know if it helped, but she hoped it did.

He deserved to have good feelings, if anyone did. None of them would have made it without him, she was certain. They all deserved to feel some joy, pleasure, or satisfaction... considering the nightmare they had just waded through together. He didn't say anything... all he did was peer back down at her, but he didn't have to. She understood. Her guard had been up so long, through all this, that lowering it was the furthest thing from easy, especially mere minutes from safety... how must he, one far less emotional, 'feel' in this situation? Yet, in her case it did feel undeniably good to be able to do so again. A weight lifting from her soul gradually, that even the undead moaning hungrily on the other side of the gate could never undo. One of the weights, at least.

She felt... triumphant, victorious. Like the impossible had been made possible. She felt as though it were the Spencer Mansion all over again... although in that case she had been exhausted... had fallen asleep on the ride home. She should have been just as tired...she had been earlier. Now, all she felt was alive. Energy filled. Now, as then, She had, they all had beat the odds, stacked almost entirely against them, and through sheer willpower, skill and perseverance, they had made it. Somehow... they had made it. The nightmares would not leave her, no, they'd be back before long... the memories would haunt her for years to come... but she took what she could get. Still, she wished very much she could draw some kind of smile out of him... something she was certain to be a nigh impossible task, especially with the mask obscuring everything, and his... unspoken distance from them.

Jill felt a slight, surprising stab of bitter sweetness as she considered his silence... considered something she hadn't thought about before now. Escape had always been far away, but here it was, with all its consequences. She was in all likelihood never going to see this man again, once they got out, surely. He had his own duty... to his company, and would go back to being another faceless agent of theirs. A servant of their unceasing will. She had hers, against the company, and all it stood for, bringing it to an end. If they ever met again... it would surely be under far more adversarial conditions. They hadn't even been together a whole day in all... only about six hours, and she felt as though they had struggled for years in the city together. Gotten closer... had... some kind of connection, of sorts, whatever it was. She didn't know what he felt... there was some... form of honor to him, that much she had gathered from their time together. With honor surely came other good traits, regardless of his emotional distance. She felt as though she had got to know him, in spite of how little she truly had. Others might see a robotic kind of man, the way he stood there before her, encased in armor, hidden away... and at the start of this, she would have said the same thing.

Now? She wasn't so sure. She saw someone else standing in front of her, from the man she had thought would kill her in that station. Still a stranger... but one she wanted to know. Did not want to be on the opposite side of, one day... but one she couldn't stand beside either, in the role he was in. She felt conflict stirring within, her heart beating quicker... dread and anticipation of the escape. What would she say to him when it came time to part ways? What would she do? There had been no time to think about any of that, trying to survive.

The trickle of self doubt and pang of bitter sweetness, nearly ruined the moment for her. Nearly. She had to cross that bridge when it was here. It was approaching, but not yet. She didn't want to think about all that then, and wreck the moment... so with surprising ease, she didn't. For now... she had to savor the good, focus on what they had accomplished together. Anything else had to come afterwards. After a few long moments, listening to the relaxing swishing of the rotor and chopper engine, its searchlight moving freely about the courtyard, illuminating the balcony, as well as them where they stood in the center, close to the train, she finally lowered her soothing hand from Hunk, turning slightly on the spot, but remaining closely with him as she looked up at the clock tower and the hovering Atlas. All the pain... all the misery, the suffering they had waded through to get here... the losses they had all faced... well. Jill wasn't certain she knew whether it had been worth it... but at the very least... the bare minimum... it had not entirely been for nothing.

Just most of it. There was still time for the city... days, before the Sterilization Operation. With any luck, there would be other survivors... other men and women out there in the outbreak, capable of beating the odds as they had, working together... there would be enough time for them to make it out as well. She knew, even then and there, they were not the only ones. Could not be the only survivors of a city of over a hundred thousand. There was so much she wanted to say... to Hunk, to Carlos... to herself. Too much she could possibly say, with so little time left to say it. She wondered what he would say to it all. If he would walk away from her without a word or without hesitation. She wondered. In the end, there was only one thing she could in the here and now of it all, the aftermath of their struggle. Her tranquil, contented voice murmuring again to the both of them, a genuine, warm smile touching her lips.

"It's finally over."

Jill had no more than uttered the soothing words to Hunk, when their meaning was utterly robbed from her. Robbed from all of them. She learned then that she could never truly be at peace... and that lowering her guard was a joke. Lessons she should have learned already... but lessons nonetheless. A bitter lesson awaiting. There was a faint, automatic whirring, from somewhere over Jill's shoulder, but she didn't respond at once. Neither did Hunk... at least until the mechanism activated, releasing its thick, metallic content from within. What happened next did so almost in a blur... so quickly she nearly missed it. Nearly. She knew damn well what was happening quickly enough, all joy and excitement evaporating as quickly as it had come, replaced by a numb shock and terror. Dread overtaking her.

She released a small confused sound as her eyes shot over, just in time to see the rocket shooting by over her head. Her eyes didn't immediately track the source... not all at once, but she did think she saw things from the corner of her perceptions... enough to gather a good idea about what was happening. Not right away, but eventually. Instead her gaze followed the rocket as a jet of flame suddenly burst forth, kicking it into overdrive. Trailing smoke and fire. She was nearly frozen to the spot at the suddenness of it all, her instincts not kicking in as fast as she wished they could. All she could do was watch helplessly as, drifting a trail of smoke, it whizzed loudly right on by her and Hunk, and started to climb upward into the darkened skies over the courtyard.

"NO!"

She had managed to scream no more than that, when the flying rocket climbed steadily higher, curving and tracking its moving target masterfully. A heat-seeker missile... it had to be, no other rocket was capable of doing what it was. It reached the helicopter as it hovered above the courtyard, striking its underside and exploding, sending a ripple through the night, lighting the chopper up in flames like a beacon, and sending it spinning out of control. Jill released an anguished cry she couldn't control, her hands shooting up into her hair, all but pulling it out in horror while the helicopter struggled to maintain its altitude... struggled, and almost as instantly as it had gone up, failed. Its density alone kept it from exploding into bits when the rocket had impacted, but said density wasn't enough to help it beyond the initial strike.

The pilot, whoever he was, and had been, lost control of the helicopter, and it went careening overhead towards the side of the clock tower. By some miracle, its debris did not rain down over the courtyard on top of her and Hunk, and instead managed to keep relatively intact, until, positioned well above the balcony and the machinery room... striking dead on against the face of the white glowing clock and its hands. It stood testimony to the solidarity of the clock tower that the helicopter did not plow through the center and end up on the other side of the building. Instead, it was only then the Atlas truly exploded, its fuel tank namely, spraying debris and pieces of the helicopter all over the placer, raining in various sized metal parts, all of it on fire. It rained down, not on the courtyard, but on the balcony, where Carlos resided, peering up at the crash in shock, the green light of the now useless signal flare still burning away in his hand, illuminating him entirely as he cursed over the active radio.

"Fuck!"

Jill snapped an arm over her face for a moment at the brightness of the explosion, before lowering it again. In the sudden chaos, Jill lost track of him... he was there one moment, lit up, and gone the next as the main bulk of the Atlas dropped on to the center of the balcony, part of its front breaking through the wall close to the upper floor. Promptly crashing through the balcony beneath it as well, shattering most, though not quite all of the stone, and landing in a cave in before the main entrance of the clock tower. Cutting it off from view in the midst of the raging inferno of the fuel and obstacles of the combined helicopter and balcony that it had toppled. A column toppled under the strain, and fire rained down from the night after the destroyed helicopter, on all sides of the balcony... and only gradually did it all reach the ground. Jill peered hard into the flames illuminating most of the courtyard along with the lights, knowing well that it was over... they were doomed, along with their escape now.

The entire helicopter crew was dead in an instant... she couldn't hear their screams in the fire, mercifully. There was no hope... none left at all. She searched the flames for Carlos... they obscured the doorway on the second floor balcony, in unison with the high rising thick, dark smoke that made the burnt out generator look like nothing. She stared into the fire, her heart racing, outright spasming with dread, terror and hopelessness. Helplessness. Not knowing was the worst part of all... on top of what she did know well enough. She didn't know whether he was alive any longer or dead after all they had gone through together, but she didn't care... she fumbled for her radio, speaking into it loudly... it was all she could do, all she could think to do.

"CARLOS! CARLOS TALK TO ME! CARLOS! WHERE ARE YOU?! No..."

There came no response as her voice dropped into despair... from Carlos, at least. She was so focused on finding, reaching him, that her mind was singularly on the task... and she let out a startled gasp when the low, inhuman growl emanated, rumbled and echoed through the night from behind her. It was more a dead breath, it felt, than a growl of rage, or anger, or anything resembling humanity. It was malicious satisfaction. No less than that. She whirled around almost as quickly as Hunk did at her side, to find again the sight she had come to fear the most. What was gradually tearing her life apart, bit by bit... starting with her friend, then her well being and sense of security... threatening the others she met along the way... it had murdered Mikhail and Carlos... and destroyed her last escape as well.

Their last escape. She wasn't in this alone. And now this thing not only wanted to kill her... but wanted to take the only person she had left, as well.

"You..."

The Pursuer's burnt husk of a behemoth form stood motionlessly high atop the broken front train carriage, cradling a rocket launcher in one arm down at its side as dark and almost as big as it was. It was still covered in a night's worth of wounds, metal and glass shards still penetrated into it at various points. The bleeding, if its fluid could be called blood, had ceased from most of them, leaving its coat as stained and tattered as ever. Body no longer aflame, but still smoking. Its burnt face was coated with red blood, bits of flesh and grey matter from a fresh, partially rejuvenating feeding. In her mind's eye she saw it again seizing and consuming the infected... even the mutations... and had to repress a retch that formed at the thought. It stood in the vibrant glow of the raging bonfires, totally illuminated... its milky, putrid yellow eye watching the both of them intently. The rictus of its bloody grinning maw, the smile of the demented, its mouth closing as it finished releasing the breath. The son of a bitch knew what it was doing. For the first time, it dawned on her, that it couldn't be entirely unthinking. Robotic or not... vile or not... it felt satisfaction with what it had done, pleasure, at killing... and at preventing their escape.

As disgusting as the over sized worm had been, there was no denying it had been a twisted, unthinking animal, not of this earth... but the Pursuer? She stared into the face of evil, in its most concentrated form. It could not manipulate... could not feign goodness... it could not be anything other than what it was, entirely up front. Umbrella had designed its Tyrant to the pinnacle of perfection... an insidious perfection... she knew that now as well, and that any future Tyrant not crafted in this thing's image, superior in other ways or not, would never be able to compare to this design. Everything they had put it through, everything... and here it remained, the damage merely slowing the inevitable. She didn't know if it was the only of its kind... but if it wasn't, then it was more than possible Umbrella would win it all, in the end. They had almost certainly achieved everything they had ever wanted, with this thing, she realized numbly.

Nothing would stop it.

Explosions hadn't done it, bullets hadn't, falls from great heights and electrocutions hadn't done it. She couldn't fathom what could anymore, if anything. It had learned from its error, it learned and adapted to every one... it was relentless, more so than she could have imagined, cutting them off from escape, trapping them in the same hell where it ruled. This concrete jungle its hunting ground, with her as the prize trophy. Before either Jill or Hunk could respond the proper way, just as the agent at her side snapped up the TMP, red laser sight hovering over its great body and prepared to fire... the Tyrant jumped down over the side of the train, landing heavily in a crouched position stone path in front of Jill, cracking the rock. Moving all too quickly for one of its bulk, throwing off Hunk's aim. The great purple tentacle protruding from its collar and neck was pulsating and throbbing violently, excitedly as the Pursuer rose slowly back upright, as it towered over Jill like she was a mouse. It only had eyes for her in that instant, ignoring Hunk off to the side altogether as something less than a nuisance. And why shouldn't it? It had been made for her. It would go after him once it was assured she was dead... she knew that, deep down. She wouldn't... she couldn't let that happen. It opened its maw one more time, and released the same, maddening, damning word etched into whatever foul thing it had for a brain. The word piercing the night air, overtaking the raging fires and moans of the damned at the clock tower's gates and streets.

"S.T.A.R.S.!"