The streets are pure chaos when Jill emerges from the Birkin household; from the sounds of desperate screaming and squelching blood from broken bodies, to the frantic people rushing in every direction to escape the inevitable. Some, the most desperate of them, spear themselves against the pikes of nearby homes. It is then that Jill realizes, instead of the typical low groaning of the undead, they now speak.
The words are simple, in all truth, yet they are haunting and heavy on her ears.
"He has called. We do His will." They say.
Despite their separate actions, fighting against the living or marching down the street, their voices act as one. Like a true and fearsome army, the undead are a force of nature in their own right.
Jill shakes away the immediate repulsion, instead focusing her energy on her tasks.
Find Rebecca.
Get to the palace.
Kill the Anti-Christ.
A simple to-do list if she can manage to keep her head and (preferably) all of her limbs intact. After taking in one final deep breath, Jill lifts her bloodied skirts and rushes headlong into the chaos.
She is as fearsome a fighter as they come, barely bating an eye or losing a curl as she shoots and slices through the horde. She could very well be something of a legend incarnate and the world would be none the wiser.
Upon spotting the Redfield estate she easily breaks herself into the gates and waltzes up to the front door. Much to her surprise, the foreman greets her enthusiastically.
"Thank god you're here, Miss Valentine. The young mistress will have her mind eased greatly to know you are safe." He bows lowly towards her.
"I take it Miss Chambers is here as well."
"Yes, of course-"
"Where are they?" Jill demands firmly.
"Uh… Up in Miss Redfield's chambers." Hurrying past the man she takes two steps at a time and then sprints down the hall.
Thrusting the door open, Jill allows a moment of release to exit her body, to see her two dearest friends in the city safe as ever before brings her great comfort. Her relief is visibly mimicked by the other two women as realization hits them all.
"Jill!" Claire practically squeaks as she rushes to embrace her. "Oh thank the heavens you're alright! It's so awful what's going on outside and you must have seen it firsthand, how dreadful!"
"Come, sit, you must be exhausted." Rebecca says softly, "We should have water sent for you."
"There isn't time for any of that, though I thank you for your concern." Jill shuts her eyes tightly before she approaches Rebecca.
For a silent breath they hover beside one another and then Jill wraps her arms around Rebecca. In turn, Rebecca responds equally, burying her face in Jill's shoulder until they are satisfied with the contact.
"I wish… I wish this had never happened." Jill admits feebly.
"You are not the hand which weaves fate." Rebecca says.
"I wish you could be safe and at home, away from all of this chaos. I am truly sorry, to the both of you, that this is our reality to face."
"I don't like where this is going." Claire mutters.
"I came to ensure you were safe." Jill says, "But you must understand that I will fight this day. Hopefully this is the last day I must do such a thing."
"What a funny thought." Rebecca expresses with a listless breath.
"Perhaps I should rephrase then. This is the last time the undead will ravage our cities and our kind. Today is the day of reckoning for our infected brethren and it has been a long time coming." Jill sharpens her tone and narrows her gaze.
"You think this is the end of time?" Claire asks, clearly taken aback.
"I know it is." Jill returns.
Rebecca shakes her head, "You cannot possibly-"
"Listen to me and listen carefully because I haven't the time to repeat myself." Jill places one hand on each of their shoulders as she speaks. "I've spent the last month or so developing a vaccine against Las Plagas with Annette Birkin and Mia Winters. The former now lies dead in her home because our cure was successful."
The looks of bewilderment on her friends faces might have been comical given any other circumstance. Currently, however, the befuddled looks feel justified as she continues.
"Mia remains in that basement along with the vaccines and our recipe, she is grievously wounded and desperately needs help."
"Oh, dear god." Rebecca moves away from Jill upon realizing where this conversation's destination is.
"Please, just consider-"
"Consider facing that?" Rebecca points out the window towards the horror of the streets.
"You have every right to be upset with me, with the world, and hell, perhaps God himself deserves your wrath. But please, Rebecca, look at where fate has brought you. Or perhaps fate brought the war to your feet because she knew you were too sensible to follow her well laid plans!"
Both of the women in Jill's presence look towards the other, she isn't certain what the young women communicate in that gaze, so she continues her crusade.
"I cannot tell you how to act, that's a futile effort and I haven't got the willpower for such a venture. What I can tell you is that vaccine is the only tool we have in our arsenal against this unholy evil. I can tell you that if we are not careful we could lose the one key to salvation we have. I know that you, Rebecca Chambers, have the brightest scientific mind I've ever seen and it's a shame you've been smothered into silence for so long.
"For all I know today could be my last, should God take my soul back this day I cannot and will not leave behind a cure with humanity none the wiser. I'm not asking you to go now, but I am begging you to at the very least remember this work should the worst come to pass."
"Jill." Claire whispers, barely restraining her emotion.
"You know this works?" Rebecca asks cautiously.
"I know that Sherry Birkin has received the vaccine and her despicable father has attempted to infect her with the disease. Should tomorrow come and she remains unchanged, it is successful."
Claire buries her face in her hands, "Dear god."
"You will go back into this fight, Jill? Truly?" Rebecca asks.
"I have to." Jill responds.
"And where will you go?"
"I cannot tell you that." Jill decides to bite her tongue for once in her wretched life.
"Well if I'm to be at the Birkin estate where should I be expecting you from? After all is said and done, I expect you will come to us from wherever it is you're cavaliering." Rebecca begs the question as if it is an obvious thing.
"What?" Jill asks. Her voice is a fragile thing, too frightened to hope she has heard rightly and too proud to produce tears, it's an amalgamation of thick curiosity.
"Rebecca?" Claire vocalizes her own confusion.
"You're right Miss Valentine, I am here. And as much as I loath that fact, it cannot be changed. So, I too should do my part in helping our cause." Rebecca takes Jill's hand and squeezes it. "I'm no warrior, but healing I can manage, I will go where I am needed and it seems you know exactly where that is."
"You're not serious." Claire gasps.
"I am."
"You have a brave heart, Miss Chambers, we are grateful to have you in this world." Jill smiles graciously at her friend, pulling her into yet another embrace.
"You said the Birkin Estate correct?"
"Yes, under the loosened floorboard in the kitchen there's a laboratory-"
"Are you bloody insane!?" Claire shouts over the other women. "You cannot waltz in here, tell us it's the end of days and then begin ordering us about as if we are soldiers to be deployed."
"We are not soldiers, Claire, we're far more useful than that." Jill says firmly, "My mother used to tell me that when God does not answer you need a woman's help. And I for one need all the help I can get."
"I cannot believe that Jill Valentine is above all else an optimist." Claire throws up her hands with an exasperated sigh.
When the men of the Umbrella jest about such things she felt that it cheapened the word but hearing it from her dearest friend completely changes the meaning.
The sentiment brings her mind back to one of her first instances with Claire. How the young woman so often finds herself consumed by darkness but chooses hope. Jill had never considered the quality to be that of her own, she had always seen herself as rather morose. Simply coasting through life as it demanded of her, rebelling in the little ways she knew herself capable.
She had never considered herself to be in rebellion against the weight of anguish. Even with so many commenting on such a thing as of late, she had always disregarded it. Perhaps, it is Jill out of all those around her who is the lark among ravens.
"I'm sorry." Jill chuckles heavily.
"Whatever for? That was a compliment… I suppose." Claire chuckles alongside her friend before shaking her head. "This is madness you know."
"I'm well aware." Jill nods.
"The unmentionables have organized and they're winning." Claire gestures to the window to prove her point.
"Clearly, that is because we stand here and not on the field." Jill manages a jest.
"You are a maddening woman." Claire rolls her eyes.
"I've been informed of this, by another Redfield as well." Jill and Claire share a look once more before the latter speaks.
"So we are going to where, exactly?"
"We? Miss Redfield?" Rebecca chuckles.
"You can't expect me to let you lose in the city unaccompanied do you? It's improper… And I'm a much better combatant than you are, my dear friend. Allow me to escort you to our troubling, uncertain future."
Rebecca barks with a laugh at that, "Oh what fun we will soon embrace."
"Are you certain this is an endeavor you wish to embark on?" Jill asks.
"I'm not certain no, but I feel a sense of duty calling. Us Redfields have a problem with duty, ask my brother about it sometime. Or I might merely be selfish, yearning to include myself in useful actions such as ending the war against the undead and salvaging a cure against Las Plagas. Now, Rebecca, our destination?"
Rebecca shakes her head, "The Birkin estate, it's not far from here."
"We're to heal Mrs. Winters." Claire begins to list their expectations with a vibrant twinkle in her eye that has been long absent. "Protect Sherry Birkin and recover the vaccine. Should the chance arise, we could save the world while we're at it."
"My, is that all?" Rebecca chuckles, "Your brother will kill me if I allow you to leave the estate."
"My brother is a concern for tomorrow, now we've another focus." Claire claims.
"Whatever we do, we must hurry. Night is falling fast and I've some significant ground to cover." Jill states firmly.
"You never told us where you're going." Rebecca reminds her.
"I didn't."
"At least tell us what you intend to do while we prepare ourselves for battle. And do take more ammunition, Jill, you'll be needing it I imagine." Claire says as the ladies set to work preparing for the war outside their doorstep.
"Let us say that I intend to cut off the Hydra's head for once and for all." Jill leans into the conversation only slightly as they enter the armory.
"You think you can accomplish such a feat alone?" Rebecca asks cautiously.
"I know I can, because I must. When one is backed into a corner, only one way is certain." Jill responds in kind.
The foreman stands by, baffled by the ladies arming themselves for the war, but every time he attempts to speak Claire tells him to keep silent. They will not be swayed, not by god or man, nor fire and brimstone. The end of the world might come with the next sunrise, and they refuse to remain complacent in the narrative.
Before they exit the estate Jill takes the two of them in her arms.
"Whatever happens, I am grateful for the trust you've put in me. And of course our friendship."
"We'll have plenty of time for goodbyes in our old age, Jill. Once the story of this day has been told to every ear that will bend our way, only then will I entertain an emotional parting." Claire says firmly.
Rebecca nods, clearly uneasy at the thought of what is to come, Jill agrees silently before taking her leave of the estate.
As the two women head off in a separate direction, Jill says a Hail Mary, hoping the heavenly mother will guard her dear friends.
For a brief moment Jill ponders saying a prayer for herself, in tandem with this thought she slices a simpering zombie in half. Smirking at the circumstance, Jill chooses to believe that she has her own divine providence right in the palm of her hand.