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.

29. Chapter 28: Synthesis

Akira-Hayama: Much appreciated, wanted Tyrell and the Monitors to factor more in the story, have a background, and open up the thread of the Monitors overall. As part of the Umbrella storyline. There is a lot going on within the company, power struggles, politics, everyone with an agenda, etc.

No Queen Leech Marcus/Mimicry Marcus in this story. Rebecca and Billy took care of it already. The Leech Man here more represents Marcus' legacy to HUNK, who assassinated him a decade prior and was reminded of him seeing the Leech Man, having witnessed his experiments in that lab. HUNK knows about the Queen Leech, and what caused the outbreak in the Arklay Mountains and killed the original Delta Team from his sources. The leeches. He knows that he is part to blame for that as well. He dumped Marcus and the Queen Leech down into that sewer under the school in the first place, which eventually led to the outbreak. Though to be sure, every T-Virus monster is part of Marcus' legacy, as the virus' creator. The leeches though are personal to HUNK, tie back to Marcus most of all to him. His first murder and the start of his turn towards darkness and away from the good, naive, love struck young man he once was. It's very personal to him, especially seeing the Leech Man, that old nightmare of his brought to life, and destroying it. Confronting, battling and conquering that part of his past.

I figured something that stands out as much as the Leech Man, a rather iconic RE monster, deserved an appearance, given it was in the right location for it, the hospital. It's a unique and awesome monster, and it gave me a chance to show off HUNK's capability as well, and his napalm ammunition that I was holding back until a spectacular introduction. I basically used Carlos's dazed, stunned eyes as the cameraman for the scene lol laying on his side and looking down the hall, watching the scene that played out. Part of my love of depicting someone like HUNK from the outside, like an alien or intimidating figure to others, mysterious, powerful... and clashing that with the scenes told from inside his head that show what he is really like. HUNK will always be dangerous and mysterious to most people from the outside, even when we see inside his head, and even if there are a few who can glimpse there is something more to him. Even as he learns, it's too late to ever become completely the man he once was. Doesn't mean he can't learn and grow some more.

Rock992: Much appreciated, and agreed. Wasn't enough of an eerie horror feel to the hospital of the remake, too much overt action all through it. Needed more atmosphere and weight to it, a sense of dread over what might be lurking around the corner. I am indeed juxtaposing the Tyrants with HUNK, ruthless, loyal, top of the line killing machines created by and serving Umbrella. But one was created through nature (science) the other through nurture (Bella/War's relationship with HUNK). One is Colonel Vladimir's legacy, the other is War's legacy, clashing, just as the Colonel and War did. By contrast to them though, these inhuman Tyrant sons of Vladimir, HUNK is rediscovering his humanity slowly but surely, remembering who he was.

Arkham Knight: Thank you kindly, that was my goal, to do the Leech Man some justice and depict it all from Carlos's frightened eyes. Show how out of his element he is compared to HUNK, and play off their team work some more. They are indeed quite the team, the entire section of the story with just the two of them will be important going forward.

Guest: Where HUNK and Director/Comtesse Christine Henri (I opted to go with the 'Henri' spelling the localization version does instead of 'Henry' because it's more French sounding spelled that way) are concerned, I have dropped hints of the nature of their relationship through the story, and you will fully learn what it is by the end. It is a vital relationship to his character. She was a blast to write, her dynamic with HUNK at Umbrella, fleshing out her and the details to her, expanding, and her role in his story, past and present. Like Colonel Vladimir and Lord Spencer, at the moment she is an important, powerful background figure at the company, watching over the events in Raccoon City, and plays an important part in the politics of Umbrella. One of the three at the top of Umbrella's Inner Circle (shadowy cabal of executives and important people of the company, aristocrats, businessmen and scientists), her sitting at Spencer's left hand while the Colonel sits at his right. As well as HUNK's current benefactor/employer. Technically Umbrella's third in command, at present. Hope you enjoy what I decided to do with her.

Thank you all for the reviews as ever, I'm glad you liked it and hope you continue to. Now, back to the mission. That vaccine won't procure its self:

---

September 30th, 1998, 10:52PM

Room 402, Raccoon General Hospital, Northern Raccoon City

"Already getting too old for this shit. Now... let's try this again. With fewer interruptions "

His bitter, tired voice murmured, carrying through the empty room. The door closed heavily behind HUNK as he swept into the dry room, stepping in out of the downpour and scene of carnage that had been left behind. He stood there for a long moment, the water dripping and running off his uniform, mask, helmet and boots, and moving freely across the floor. The muffled ringing of the sirens out in the hall overtaking even the sound of the rain and moans outside the hospital. He adjusted the shoulder strap of the modified MP5, which had served him even better than he had expected, with its armor piercing incendiary rounds... and he knew he'd have to make the most of them. With good fortune, he'd find more, but couldn't count on such happening. No U.S.S. Agents had made it to this part of town, himself excluded. He rose a gloved hand to his mask, rubbing off the water dripping down his lenses and partially obscuring his vision. He took the time to dry each lens, the intact left and partially cracked right, with the sleeve of his uniform. The red tint of his vision was cleared, and he lowered his arm again, slowly looking up and spotting his reflection in a mirror in the room. He studied the stranger looking back at him in it, buried away beneath the armor, uniform, and mask... a mask that seemed to be becoming his new face, of late. Jaw tightening, he looked away from the mirror, eyes within the lenses slowly moving towards the safe, stepping over and standing in front of it and looking it over.

HUNK glanced slowly down to the floor, where the broken painting of the Arklay Mountains and Spencer Mansion lay at his boots... drawing a moment of consideration from him as he scanned the mountainside. He briefly considered what he had just seen, and done... before tucking it neatly away with every other memory. It was nothing out of the ordinary anymore, regardless of the Leech mutation having been the first of its particular kind he had encountered in the field. The image of them all writhing upon their host reminded HUNK of a few things he had heard none too long ago. Stories among the Umbrella Security Service, regarding the fate that had befallen the previous Delta Team, up in the mountains outside Raccoon City. On the Ecliptic Express, that had once run for Umbrella employee's and personnel. That he had ridden on himself, long ago. Some of the stories centered around infected leeches being the cause of the outbreak up there. The Queen Leech... the final experiment that had outlived its creator. He remembered the old man's body, sinking with his experiment into the leech infested waters of that sewer. He heard himself release a single low, bitter laugh, escaping in spite of himself.

"Here I am... ten years later... still cleaning up your legacy, Marcus. Your progeny. Suppose we're even, by now."

He muttered under his breath, unable to help himself. Slowly shaking his head, gaze not leaving the painting of the Arklay Mountains where it had all happened. Years prior to the incident, Doctor Marcus had frequently experimented with T-Virus infected leeches, among other biological material and specimens, to the point of obsession and madness, on his own assistants. At least twenty of them, according to an Investigator's Report he had been made aware of by Director Henri, when the Research Facility had been fully examined by a team. Twenty more at least, that he and his fellow murderers hadn't uncovered that night ten years prior, of the test subjects they had found. Marcus's former pair of top students, his replacements serving Spencer, had been more focused on gathering useful data than combing the entire facility for the remnants of all his test subjects. After they had got what was needed, they had departed. All the time in isolation at the abandoned school had driven the doctor insane... that much he was sure. More so, at least... his madness, cruelty and genius had probably always been intertwined.

This had been when Marcus still had a place with Umbrella. Before the company, before he had... before Spencer had... fired him. The Leeches up there had broken out, escaped... courtesy, he was certain, of the Queen he and his partner had failed to dispose of properly. A swarm of them born, a hive, growing over those ten years, eventually causing the outbreak in the mountains. Just as there was likely another hive in the sewer beneath the hospital. Looking at the Leech covered mutation, thinking over the sight of it, how it connected to Marcus and his research, had threatened to spill many thoughts for consideration. Old regrets... remorse a young man had carried... murdering an old man at the word and touch of someone he had loved. Trusted. But his discipline and resolve held firm. It had been a hostile, a remnant of Marcus's work. A more familiar one, at least. Every mutation and abomination in the city was a remnant of his work. His repugnant legacy. How proud he would have been to look upon his creations, to have witnessed the horrors and potential Raccoon City himself. How eager he would have been to get his hands on the G-Virus... how proud of Birkin he would have been. The apple hadn't fallen far from the tree there. A litany of insane, genius scientists... a world of bioweapons the U.S.S. kept afloat. That he lived to serve. To secure.

HUNK's weary gaze drifted on from the painting, right back to the smooth surface of the safe and its combination. Moving forward closer to it, stepping on the painting, his boot breaking it further. As he did so, he activated his headset's communication device again, contacting NIGHTHAWK's signal, and speaking into the microphone. His low tone carried throughout the room, overwhelming the muffled downpour from both outside the door, and outside the room's window.

"Agent HUNK to NIGHTHAWK. Silence concluded. Come in NIGHTHAWK. Over."

The answer came back almost at once. HUNK didn't have the slightest doubt that NIGHTHAWK had been waiting with a degree of anticipation. Regardless of the cool tone that filled his earpiece.

"NIGHTHAWK here Agent HUNK, what's the situation over there?"

"Resolved. Oliveira is alive."

"Not exactly a very detailed description... what was it that required resolving?"

"It'll be in my report. If you get access to it. Let's get back to business here. Have you received any new information on Operation Watchdog?"

"Fair enough. Alex has passed more along while you were off doing what you do, I have a name... the U.I.D. is still sending in the data right now, so try to bear with me. The name is of one of the other members of Operation Watchdog, besides Nikolai and Tyrell. I'm still trying to track down the rest of the names of the Supervisors, a detailed list perhaps, to let us know how many of them there are, who they all are, and where they are stationed. It's proving as difficult as anticipated. Regardless, the name in question and what we have backs up our hunch that not every Monitor in this operation was placed in the U.B.C.S. unit's."

"Who are we talking about here?"

"A scientist with Umbrella's Research Division, by the name of Doctor Janice Thomlinson. She has been stationed within Raccoon City for some time now, keeping tabs upon her co-workers, each of them none the wiser. When the contamination broke out in the city, she was among the other Supervisors informed on the entirety of the situation, and given orders through proxy sources we are as yet unable to uncover. Whoever passed them along used one hell of an encryption, and took every precaution not to be traced, either by her, and perhaps us."

"Thomlinson. Rings a bell. Where is she now?"

"Below the city, in one of the outlying research facilities connected to the NEST, in the sewers. Rotting, along with the rest of the employees, according to our highly trustworthy source. U.I.D. was able to remotely access security cameras within each level of the labs, as well as discovered several transmissions she made to the company through her laptop. They played back the records... and it seems she survived far longer than her unwitting colleagues, even in the chaos. They turned into the infected, she was able to avoid them, live for awhile... she was armed, took better precautions than the others, given her awareness of what was unfolding."

"What happened then?"

"Her blood is still relatively fresh, recently deceased, just like Tyrell. September 28th. This was around the time you, Valentine and the others were still making your way up towards the clock tower via the cable car. The camera quality wasn't perfect, but putting it all together painted a clear enough picture. The doctor was making her way from her lab, and she took a private elevator to a small warehouse she was covertly sending her Supervisor reports from. When she made it to the warehouse, before she could send out her latest report she was cornered by a man. The man in question was caught on some of the cameras earlier, before reaching the facility, travelling through the underground passages connecting every key facility down there."

"And?"

"He avoided any of the mutations down there, infected mostly, and beat her to the warehouse. He knew where he was going, what he was doing, and when he needed to be there. He caught her off guard, held her up briefly, ordered her to give him access to the data she had been compiling. She attempted to barter with him, come to an agreement with him, he shot her dead on the spot and took her information. A disc. We can assume what was on it... data related to Operation Watchdog. When the man was done, he took off... that's all we got so far. I don't even think I have to tell you who the man was. The footage might not have been pristine, and it was often dark, but not enough to disguise the facts. He didn't even bother covering up his trail... trying to disable the cameras. Usually good at solo stealth missions, but most likely he just didn't see the point. All things considered."

"Nikolai. Tyrell wasn't the first, then. The two of them also tortured, interrogated and executed Doctor Bard together. Oliveira and I found his corpse. Too late to interrogate him myself. Arrived just in time to see Nikolai gun down Tyrell, after his use was served. Escaped out the window before I could execute him."

"He's been busy."

"As ever. Found a letter on Bard. Friends in high places. Looks like he was working under the table with Chief Irons, Mayor Warren and Senator Tester. Lots of money and secrets exchanging hands."

"Damn. Be a shame if that letter found its way into the wrong hands, after all this. Kind of thing that ends a political career. Maybe more than that."

"Was thinking along the same lines."

"Great minds. As of yet Alex doesn't know how many other Supervisors he went through before her. How many he went through since, besides Tyrell. Or how many are left. If there's a list, he sure has hell has his hands on a copy. Vladimir too, of course. Probably handed the son of a bitch it himself. Hasn't been long since you put in the request though. Even the U.I.D. needs time to work. Especially with everything else on their plate right now. Lots of traffic."

"Ask Alex kindly to keep digging, then.", HUNK spoke into the communicator slowly, at last raising a gloved hand and typing in the combination he had recovered from the Doctor's body in Room 401. With each button press, a small click came from safe. The code was surprisingly simple for such important contents to the safe. Probably the point. The obvious tended to elude most. It was fortunate he'd spotted the paper in the Doctor's hand. The hacking devices Alpha Team had brought were still down in the sewers around the NEST, if not broken, and not a possibility. One again he had proven lucky. "We won't be getting any answers out of the dead. In the meanwhile a name or two at a time of the Supervisors we can root out will be enough."

"Won't be a problem, plenty of time left before the operational time limit elapses. I'll pull up what I can from here, work with the Umbrella Intelligence Division closely. We'll find something else, nothing to worry about there. Nikolai isn't getting off the hook over this, his attempts to slow your mission. Yours is the priority, his secondary at best. Heads will roll one way or another."

Pressing the final digit's button, the lock within released, and the small safe door opened automatically, releasing with it a visible spray of cold air from the refrigerated container. He did not feel it, of course, but it did fog up his lenses, which he took the time to wipe again with his sleeve. Once his vision was clear, he peered upon the contents of the safe. Or rather more accurately, the content. The Vaccine Base sat in the center of the cool safe, in a small clear bottle of sorts with a long end. Reaching inside, he gently picked it up, examining it carefully as he plucked it out of the safe, drawing it closer to his lenses, cocking his head slightly. The material holding it wasn't glass, obviously, far too delicate for such a vital creation... it was a sturdy plastic of sorts. He could glimpse the blue liquid within that comprised the Vaccine Base. Nodding slowly, he popped open the pouch on his front containing his medical supplies, including the syringe he had recovered off the trolley for later, and he inserted the Vaccine Base gently inside, before sealing it back up safely. Returning his attention to the man on the other end of the line.

"The Vaccine Base has been recovered. Objective complete. En route to the basement laboratory to find the Vaccine Medium and commence completion of the vaccination."

"Marvelous. Keep up the good work, I need to get going. Have some work here at the Quarantine Zone I need to focus on myself, between communicating with the U.I.D. There have been some more attempted Quarantine Zone breakers. We'll be in touch soon. NIGHTHAWK, over and out."

HUNK switched off the communicator, severing the line, and stood in the room a few moments longer. He glanced down at the painting of the Arklay Mountains one more time, in contemplation. Slowly, his eyes moved in the direction of the hospital bed, looking it over. Never had something as simple as a bed looked so good in the worst possible place or time to use it. He was an agent, a professional... could not afford weakness... but he had his limits. And felt himself reaching them at last. More than it had been on any other mission. He wished he were back in Paris... resting in his barracks quarters in the underground area of the facility. Or the master bedchamber at Chateau Henri... back in Loire Village. The aches and exhaustion were gradually threatening to make themselves visible and known, if they hadn't already, little different from Oliveira's own. The unconsciousness hadn't helped, not truly... hadn't been true rest... plagued by nightmares. And it, combined with the time left before the city was destroyed, the matter of Valentine, Nikolai, the Tyrant, and their escape was only intensifying the unpleasantness of it all.

To say nothing of Umbrella, its actions, the consequences hanging over his head as one of their only operatives left in the city. He was probably a war criminal at this point, an enemy on the government radar, if he hadn't been already, now having a direct hand in the outbreak. Unintentional didn't matter... wouldn't to the government. He was a ghost, and one they'd like to track down and question, make famous. He had lost control of the mission, the stealth aspect of it. If it had gone smoothly they never would have known he had been in Raccoon City. Nikolai wasn't the only one getting careless down here. Leaving a trail in their wake. Between the cameras around the city and below, military satellites in unison with Umbrella ones... there was no doubt they knew about him now. Along with the other Umbrella personnel they would be gunning for. Lord Spencer would be at the top of the list, of course, along with Colonel Vladimir. This was a war, no mere incident. One his company had stirred up. Someone would have to pay for it. Heads would roll after the city's destruction. HUNK had been trained to resist the worst... torture, countless forms... to persevere and never give up, no matter the odds. All that bravado and cold hard knowledge drilled into his head over the years had gotten him this far... he had been drilled by the best, but how much further could it possibly carry him out here on this battlefield? His eyes, sore beneath the mask, closed for a moment, and then reopened upon the rain soaked window.

The muffled echoes of the fire alarm outside the door and moans outside grew dim for a moment, then slowly brought him back. Back to the world he resided in... away from the uncertain yet likely future that awaited... away from the past, as comforting as it had been at one time in his life. After she had left, he never thought he'd miss those times... the simplicity of it, following orders without the questions and nagging doubts he could not express visibly. By comparison even the Leech thing didn't concern him as much. All he could do was follow his orders... and do what was required of him to see them through. That's all anyone had ever wanted of him. What he was best at. All he was good for. But now and again on a rough mission, he had thought of her... of them... the good memories, though they were intertwined with the bad. And here... in Raccoon City... he had thought of it all more than he ever had. All of it reopening again. Getting to him. He remembered snapping at Oliveira, back at the chapel... he didn't regret the fact the young man had deserved it... but he did regret the display of emotion, and lack of true professionalism. He had let it all get to him, as it had to the Corporal. Allowed his weakness to make him lose control.

He hated it... the weakness, the very thought of helplessness, uselessness, all his skills not being worth a damn compared to it. There were things she hadn't taught him... prepared him for... she hadn't taught him to live with growing doubts. Uncertainty. She had smothered those with her presence, with her touch... her words... she had taught him to mute them, not to deal with them... but she was long gone. Now he was stuck with all the Monitor business going on behind his back and interfering... the Colonel's schemes, instead of her. It was starting to piss him off. Colonel Vladimir was getting to him, under his skin, just as he'd intended. And then there was Nikolai. Ordinarily the man drew not the slightest concern from the agent... but the bastard had chosen the worst possible time to do what he did best. Exploited the chaos. Between him, the potential of the Tyrant and the looming possibility of the Worm... Oliveira had good reason to be as wary as he was. A luxury he could afford far more than HUNK could. He would destroy the G-Virus and the completed cure before he allowed either to fall into the Russian's greedy hands... but knew it wouldn't come to that.

He would not allow it to.

It was time to get moving... but he had one last call to make, first. A promise to keep. He did so at once, activating the radio and switching over to her frequency. Muffled tone filling the channel again.

"Agent HUNK to Doctor Radames. Come in, please. Need to keep this short."

She picked it up so quickly she must have been sitting beside it. Her familiar, relieved voice filled his ears again. Not an unpleasant sound... especially to those the Leech thing had made. Drowning out those inhuman screams still ringing in his head.

"HUNK... good to hear you again so soon. Well... soon by your standards. What have you got?"

"Reached Raccoon General Hospital. We've located the Vaccine Base. Are en route to recover the Vaccine Medium as well. It'll have to be synthesized together in a machine at the lower level labs. Once we've formulated the cure, I'll update you."

"Understood. What of Bard?"

"Interrogated and executed by Monitors Zinoviev and Tyrell. We were too late."

"Almost a shame. Despite everything else he was, his work was quite capable, at least for its time. He could have accelerated a number of active programs. Especially the vaccine ones in Europe. I imagine your Countess would have put him right to work in Paris developing a G-Virus vaccine."

"Possibly. Looks like he was getting cold feet though. Ended up like Birkin, would have gone to the government. Was already in bed with Senator Tester."

"Senator Tester? You're kidding... well, no you aren't. Can't say I'm surprised, corruption among politicians? Impossible."

"Doubt the company would have kept him on the payroll for such a vital project. Wanted him eliminated in the first place. Colonel Vladimir did, anyways."

"I see. Pays to limit the scope of one's ambitions in this company, doesn't it?"

"Yes."

"On to his labs then, I presume?"

"Affirmative. Recovered his identification card and a recording of his voice. Should help us access the lab, if necessary."

"Wonderful. And if you don't mind I'll like a description of that lab later. What else they were up to in there... maybe the outbreak interrupted their experiments. I want any data you can collect, if possible. Notes, papers, emails, files, etc. You still have that flash drive device Q gave you?"

"Of course I do. Way ahead of you, Doctor. Already visited Bard's office. Got what I could off his computer on the flash drive. Will do the same in the laboratory."

"Damn, you really can read a girl's mind. Mmm... is there anything you can't do?"

"Doctor..."

"I know I know, not the time for flirting. You're standing in the middle of a zombie infested hospital."

"Infected hospital. Not you too. You're supposed to be a scientist, doctor."

"I'm also a normal human being, one who watches zombie movies. Swear I'm going to make you watch some with me one of these days, loosen you up a bit."

"You're free to come down here and see the infected up close, if you're so fond of them."

"Tempting, actually." The young woman's amused tone turned rather silky, then. "At least with you there."

"Forget I said anything."

"Too late. But there's one other thing before you go, HUNK. Since everyone is asking everyone for something lately, taking advantage of this insanity, I want a few chips at the big table."

"What can I get you, doctor?"

"When you use that vaccine, I'd like you to recover some leftover droplets in the container if possible. Bring it with you back to the Leviathan. A small specimen is all I need. I don't expect to be able to replicate it, but its properties could be useful in some tests I'm running. I want to see Doctor Bard's work myself. See how it differs, if at all, from the vaccines aboard the Leviathan. The work of the European Division. Might be something to it we can improve upon. Knowledge is power."

"Understood. I'll give you what I can. Scrounge up what I can in the labs as well."

"You're a doll. I just wish you hadn't broken that helmet camera of yours. I could have been watching all this."

"You and QUARTERMASTER both. I'll require your support when he lets me have it over that. Storms into your lab. After you're through with me first, of course."

"You know me too well already. You can count on it. Only I am allowed to pester you. And don't worry. Not about to ask you to steal a vial of the poor girl's blood."

"You sure? Wouldn't be the first genetic material I've collected or stolen for a scientist. Blood is nothing. Wasn't about to put it past you."

"I resent that insinuation, sir. Curious scientist or not, I have a few more standards than my colleagues. Interesting as it would be to see how her genetic material might be effected by exposure to the virus strain of that unique Tyrant, combined with Bard's vaccine... uh... but I digress. All that can wait. A certain someone can't. Go. Double time it and make that vaccination of yours. Sleeping Beauty won't wake herself, Prince Charming. Carla over and out."

There was something wry and knowing in her voice, teasing... mildly irritating HUNK. Something familiar. But somehow, at the same time amusing him as well. Slightly. The line went dead before he could respond... mercifully. Turning it off, he drew a low breath through the replaced filters in his mask, gloved hand tightening at his side, and he turned on his boot, following slowly his water soaked prints back to the door, away from the safe door he left ajar. There was nothing left to e done here... it was time to get moving... even as part of him would rather lay down in that bed and sleep through the thermobaric strike of Raccoon City. He would have slept through it all peacefully, he was certain... and there would be no nightmares. But he could not afford the luxury of an endless sleep. Of death. He had a duty... a mission... existed to carry them out. A reason to keep going, dragging himself to the end, however it all ended.

Reasons, actually.

Though he was no longer certain which of them were more important. The growing doubt blurred the lines between the two. Her pained blue eyes staring at him tearfully... and a titanium sample container with glowing purple contents. Each haunting and following him, at every moment, each pulling him in another direction. Grasping the handle with one hand, he unslung his modified MP5 with the other and readied it. With another low breath, brows narrowing intently and expression hardening beneath the mask, concentrating, he pushed through the door and back out into the blaring noise and fierce downpour of the sprinklers. Beating against his helmet, mask and armor in a torrent.

They weren't out of the woods yet, and he could not afford the luxury of self doubt... especially not here and now. He forced the image of the G-Virus's glowing contents from his mind. He thought of Valentine, who could have been dead for all they knew... all their efforts in vain... but he focused on her nonetheless. The rest was simple as he stepped down hallway, boots squishing fallen leeches, and made his way back down to the elevator.

---

"Goddamn it... twenty one... and still getting too old for this shit... who'd a thunk it?"

Carlos breathed again slowly... and although each sent a ripple of pain through his midsection, it had grown slightly more bearable. Albeit the pounding in his ears of the alarms and flashing red lights as he sat in the downpour was going to leave him with a headache, at any rate. He couldn't remember ever having been shot before... something he would if he had been. He had fired at others, back in his homeland, back before America and Umbrella... he'd even been shot at, but never hit. Not even in the chaos of Raccoon City's downfall... not even Captain Mikhail had been able to avoid an unlucky, random shot. He remembered helping get him clear of the streets after... the APC in front of them firing away, barricading the road from the zombies. The two veteran SWAT officers, Peter and Roger, kicking ass and covering them as well. If it hadn't been for them their squad never would have reached Central Street Station. He didn't know what had happened to them... but hoped they'd made it out of the city by now. It figured the first time Carlos would be shot it would be at his own hands. It was easy to underestimate the power in a gun, when you used it for a long time... even the slightest slip up could accidentally end it all. If the shot hadn't hit his vest... had struck his head, being in the middle of this hospital even before the outbreak wouldn't have saved him.

It was why he showed such respect to weapons, and one of the reasons he had become the heavy weapons specialist of his unit. Someone had to handle to greater firepower and treat it carefully. Appreciate it properly. It had only been in the panic of the elevator, the Leech Man, he had forgotten one of the most basic protocols of firing inside an enclosed metal space. Even something as small as a pistol, so very basic in terms of the array of weaponry he had handled, had to be treated as if it were the equivalent of a rocket launcher. One could afford no screw ups. A rocket launcher... how he wished he had his hands on one, and had encountered the Leech Man under different circumstances. But at least Umbrella's resident badass had taken care of it already, and then some. At least, he hoped the agent had done it permanently.

The idea of it down there still, alive, in spite of being set on fire and its entrance buried filled him with repugnance. Something like that had no right to exist. Part of him, both revolted and angry about how the thing had taken him off guard, and nearly killed him, made him want to stalk it down the corridors of the sewer. It was a blind, biting thought... but one within him nevertheless. Something like it had no right to exist... it was just... not right. Nothing about Raccoon City was, obviously, but the mindlessness of the zombies almost made them more machines than actual beings. This... Leech Man, had displayed pain... feeling... it had screamed. Somehow, it had screamed. A scream so loud and piercing it would follow him wherever he went now. It had been intelligent, with the sprinkler system. Had it worked here at one time? Had the Leeches, however they got to him, made it possible for him to retain some of his intelligence somehow? Another mutation?

It seemed every corner he turned, something all the more twisted about the virus made its self known. Its mutagenic properties. A 'small chemical spill'... that was the lie he and his team had been fed by Colonel Vladimir prior to dropping into Raccoon City. Simple civilian evacuation, nothing out of the usual. Bullshit. He wished that lie had been truth, but it was just one more rope around his neck, lies. No matter how he tried, the thoughts didn't go away, the images of the Leech Man. The alarm wasn't helping, all it did was remind him what the Leech thing could do. Along with the water. He shook his head slowly, and at long last his eyes snapped over when a voice appeared from nowhere, muffled and low, its owner towering above him. HUNK had returned, as silently and out of the blue as ever. All the noise had probably helped with that, but Carlos doubted it would have made a difference even without the alarm.

"I have recovered the Vaccine Base. On your feet, Oliveira. Get in the elevator. We're moving out."

"One headache down... another to go. Just give me a... shit... second..."

The young man, having recollected enough of himself, in spite of the deep burning pain in his gut, began to climb unsteadily to his feet, struggling to do so. The dark, silent, armored figure strode past him to the elevator without bothering to help him up, pressing the button and opening the doors. Cheery elevated music returned, partially muffled by the ringing sirens, but present and familiar. HUNK's shadow passed inside and mostly out of sight the moment the doors dinged and parted. Out of the corner of Carlos's eye, HUNK's glove pressed against the side of the elevator door, preventing it from closing and remaining there. Waiting on him to rise by himself. Carlos at last stood upright, struggling briefly with the weight of his backpack, breathing painfully, but breathing nevertheless. He adjusted the pack, fastening the straps, and wearily reached down for his soaked rifle leaning against the wall. Fortunately the M4 was a hell of a step up from the old school M16, so while it couldn't be submerged in water like an AK47, a little downpour wasn't about to effect its performance. Droplets ran off the rifle as he slung it over his shoulder tiredly, before turning on the spot back towards the elevator and shuffling over to it gradually. He paused in the doorway, one last time, scanning the hallway, and the devastation surrounding it.

The burnt, soaked remains of the leeches... all the shell casings lining the area, the red lights of the alarm flashing along the walls, above all and the caved in wall at the far end. Never had leaving somewhere felt so damn good than it did now. Kicking aside some of the shell casing in the elevator, and stepping on, splattering a dead leech or two under his boot, he stepped inside, leaning against the elevator shaft wall for support. As he did this, HUNK moved his arm out of the way and the doors slowly shut again, sealing out the downpour, as well as finally muffling the hum of the fire alarm drilling in his head. For moments afterwards, Carlos felt no difference. He still heard it as if his head were next to the alarm, spiking pain in his skull, reverberating everywhere. He muttered curses under his breath, wincing. He could hear HUNK moving in the elevator, stepping over to the control panel, and pressing the button that would take them to the basement. It didn't respond or glow as the other buttons would have, and Carlos's heart dropped in his chest. There was no other way to the basement, he was certain... that section of the hospital had been barricaded off... and God knew what those barricades were containing. Carlos felt his fear and panic rising, through the pain... but in contrast HUNK remained silent and still, calmly studying the panel... looking for something on it. Carlos was about to break the silence, when the agent produced something from one of his pouches. Doctor Bard's identification card, he remembered. HUNK slipped it half way into the slit at the bottom of the panel and left it there, pressing the button again. This time it glowed as it activated and responded, lurching into motion, HUNK merely nodded his battle scarred helmet, satisfied. Carlos grinned in spite of himself, laughing slightly despite the pain.

"Been on missions... infiltrating Umbrella facilities... before... huh? Like this one?"

"Worse. Not my first rodeo, rookie. If you hadn't noticed."

"Figured, secret agent man. Ask a stupid question..."

The two of them stood in near silence after that, save the patter of droplets hitting the floor beneath them, and forming respective puddles. The out of place, cheery elevator music playing around them. And there was the low rumble of the elevator as they descended, leaving the horrors of the fourth floor behind. Relatively speaking. A few of his shell casings rolled around the floor as the elevator moved... and Carlos, slumped against the wall, knew it was time to force aside the exhaustion, and put his game face back on. He couldn't prove it, but he couldn't shake the feeling Hunk was staring at him. Watching him from the elevator control panel. Possibly with some misgivings or judgement, deciding if he was fit enough to help, or just prove a liability. Command him to stay behind in the elevator. No... Carlos needed to keep pulling his weight. He wasn't weak, even as he was now. Carlos shook his head, and stopped leaning against the wall, and began fully supporting his own weight, standing upright and unslinging his rifle as they passed down the different floors, readying himself. He grasped the rifle in both hands, leveling it at the door and selecting the single shot setting. He was not about to be caught off guard again. He narrowed his eyes intently, peering down the sights of his soaked M4, and glanced over towards HUNK, inclining his head, before looking back to the doors. At last, the elevator began to slow, down beneath the hospital, and they reached the third basement moment they did, HUNK retrieved and pocketed the card again, then leveled his submachine gun at the door as well, the red laser sight reflecting on the metal of the doors.

"Look alive, Oliveira."

The agent's low voice murmured through the gas mask, and with a ding, the doors parted, revealing the foul smelling death they had been keeping back. Their hungered moans and shuffling of feet filled the elevator instantly, along with the ever present repugnance of rotting flesh. A sweeping glance from Carlos predicted maybe a dozen or more of them, each in blood stained, tattered lab coats or security uniforms, covered in differing extensive bites and ailments. One's jaw was falling apart, a tongue dangling uselessly, incapable of feeding, yet its hunger undeterred. They had been drawn by the noises of the elevator, undoubtedly... and the front couple of them lurched right in. Carlos responded appropriately to the array of former Umbrella employees, blowing the closest one's head apart the instant it stepped inside, splattering blood stains all over the control panel of the elevator. It fell forward into the middle of the shaft, twitching and forming a puddle of gore and excretions. The second one nearly took Carlos off guard, but he reacted quickly, kicking it in the midsection with a grunt and it stumbled out of the elevator, back into its group of the living dead. As one, they surged forward again, attempting to storm the elevator in a mob, and together HUNK and Carlos opened fire into their midst.

The unified echoing clicking of the silenced, modified submachine gun and the thunderous rapports of the rifle combined together as they took down the swarm within a matter of seconds, heads erupting into pieces. An inferno rolled over the unruly mob... clothes and flesh burned as the armor piercing incendiary rounds tore apart limbs and set them on fire. Napalm and white phosphorous capsules, he remembered HUNK telling him. Damn impressive weapons, watching them in action. The red laser sight moved one after another between them, target to target. sharing death with them all. Unlike the Leech Man above, the zombies did not scream... they were refreshingly predictable and familiar. He never thought he would have missed seeing them again. They did little more than grow silent as their moans were overpowered with the gunfire and one by one they toppled this way and that across the hall they had been residing in, falling over one another. Their stained lab coats burst into flames and darkened, turning to ash, and their twitching corpses simply burned. Shell casings clattered all over the metal blood soaked floor below... and at last, the stream of them ceased. Both men kept their weapons at the ready... at least until the smoke hit Carlos, and he lowered his rifle, pressing a mouth to his arm and retching into it as a thick, sour cloud of burning flesh hit him, and he was threatened with nausea and coughing.

"Fucking hell..."

"Stay put by the elevator until I say so, Oliveira. Try not to suffocate."

"Easier... said then done..."

HUNK, unsurprisingly unaffected, took point, stepping out of the elevator first and aiming his weapon down the corridor that remained out of Carlos's sight. As the young mercenary started forward after him to get a better view, he heard the familiar powerful clicks of the weapon discharging, and bodies hitting the ground with muffled thuds. Carlos kicked aside the corpse in the elevator, boots trailing bloody footprints out of the shaft, just as HUNK's had. He was fully met by the smoke and foul stench as he moved over the pile of corpses... and by then, quite awake and aware of the situation, he found himself growing irritated. Powerful weapon or not, fighting in an enclosed area like this basement corridor was going to prove one hell of an annoyance for someone like him without a gas mask. It was only under the pressure that he now was, that he remembered a possible remedy for the matter in his backpack. Or at least a dampener for the effect. How the hell had he forgotten something so simple? He cursed himself for it, but then he had forgotten a great deal, just focusing on staying alive. Carlos glanced off to the right of the elevator to find that side of the corridor barricaded off, and the left hand side of the hall free, with HUNK's dark shape visible executing several zombies on the way down. His movements steady and methodical, calculated. The moment he took the rest of them down, clearing the corridor, those cracked and intact red lenses looked back down his way. Giving a simple hand signal for Carlos to advance. Moving quick, Carlos got out of the concentration of smoke and down about half way through the corridor before waving a hand signal in return at HUNK to hold position.

"Hold up a second, man... just remembered... something!"

Falling down to one knee, still coughing, Carlos quickly rummaged through his backpack's pockets, searching for them, and only now remembering where they were. He'd worn them in the smoke, fire and long days of the outbreak, around the train station. Hell, most of them had, it was unavoidable. He's taken them off when he'd finally been allowed to go scavenge, get away from the burning and breath some fresh air... and had mostly forgotten about them. He regretted not putting them back on long before now, it it was far better than never. He pulled a long olive green cloth from his bag, and began securing the neck gaiter balaclava around his throat, tying it into position just firm enough to remain there safely, raising the balaclava's material over his mouth and nose to cover them, and form a somewhat effective barrier for the smoke heavy in the air. A filter of sorts. Obviously not as effective as a gas mask, but it did its job. Improvising was the name of the game when worse came to worse. It took a little longer to find the other item that went with it... but when he did, he pulled it free, examining them for a moment. A set of standard issue military goggles, in the same olive green tone as the balaclava, with a pair of clear shades. He put them on at once, fastening them into position on his head, and pulling them down over his eyes. The world through the lenses was altered partially, but not enough to make any significant difference on his combat abilities. Which would surely improve, not having to worry about his watering eyes.

Zipping back up the bag, Carlos rose again on the spot, hefting his rifle and tightening the pack's straps, turning back towards HUNK, who remained standing near the corner leading to the next area waiting for him. Passing through the smoke swirling around the corridor, Carlos was less affected at last, and able to cope without another handicap against him. Exhaustion was a bad enough enemy to have, to say nothing of taking too much smoke into his lungs. He breathed more easily through the presence of the firm cloth material, the smoke the scent of burning flesh filtered out as well. At least partially. Reaching HUNK, Carlos stepped over the other blood soaked, burning bodies the U.S.S. agent left in his wake, and nodded at him. The agent looked back at him... and he felt the man's steely eyes looking between the face mask and goggles. Carlos spoke up again, tone muffled and low as HUNK's, through the balaclava.

"I'm jealous of the gun you know, but Jesus Christ... what a mess it makes. Figured if you were going to be shooting that thing in tight spaces, I'd have to do something about all the damn smoke, besides breathing it in. Wore this often around the train station, with all the oil fires in the air. Not as good as a gas mask, but it helps."

"You're thinking."

"I do plenty of that... not that it looks like it some times I bet. Didn't survive this long without some common sense."

HUNK said nothing. He merely studied him a moment longer, and calmly gestured to the subsequent concrete corridor around the corner, and rose his weapon again, an action Carlos copied in unison. Carlos obeyed the gesture at once, taking point, stepping around the corner, rifle at the ready, examining the corridor beyond. It was clear of zombies or creatures... nor could he hear any. At least from inside the corridor. He proceeded carefully nevertheless, boots tapping across the marble floor as HUNK followed silently, reaching the next corner and passing around it, weaving to the next bend. A small chain link covering was positioned on the right hand wall as he moved by it, complete with generators and other machinery with blinking lights reflecting back at them, and a red light washing over part of the area dimly. Carlos passed it rapidly, turning the last bend and peering down to the far end of the corridor... again it was clear. Well... within reason. There were corpses. And the sound of pounding on a door, echoing all the way up the hall... and familiar moans.

The sounds of the elevator must have attracted all the risen zombies back to the first dank corridor, or they had already been bunched up there. Along the way were unmistakable bloody footprints back and forth, and smears on the walls. There were shell casings and impact marks in the walls from pistol cartridges to be seen... whatever had happened down here, resistance from the security had not been enough. It had been a blood bath, long before HUNK and himself had arrived. There were some corpses along the way, fallen scientists and security guards who hadn't risen again with their fellows. All the same, Carlos took the time to put a round through each of their heads as they moved down the hall. Now and again one would moan and attempt to rise, before a second round put them back down again. Carlos was long past taking any chances with corpses that had heads on their shoulders. There were doors on either side of the corridor now and again, all marked... other areas of the facility under the hospital... including a chained up, barricaded door where the snarling, moans and banging of hands came from. The door in question led to the sewers. Figured. Also something called 'NEST'... an access point towards the place. Wherever the hell that was.

He remembered the name designation from Bard's letter... Umbrella's primary underground facility in Raccoon City. Likely this one was connected to or close to it. He looked away from all the closed metal doors and down to the one at the end of the hall, and after dealing with the last of the corpses and reloading his rifle, double timing it there, Carlos stood before the door in moments. Listening carefully, he heard nothing behind the door leading to the laboratory entrance, but had been doing this long enough to assume the worst. Grasping the large handle on the heavy door, he pulled it open and burst inside, hoping to take whatever was within the laboratory's storage room off guard. To his own inner surprise, it worked, in the misshapen, tumor covered form of another Hunter B.O.W. Somehow, he'd almost forgotten about them.

The creature hissed and looked their way where it resided in the storage room, malignant, snake-like eyes studying them ominously. Carlos took in the entire contents of the room in a flash, and subsequently opened fire on the Hunter before its long claws could dig into the concrete floor and race forwards to rip him apart in the doorway. He went full auto on the B.O.W., spraying it, but primarily in the head. He didn't want to have to put up with it longer than necessary... blowing its head apart was always a sure fire way of seeing to that. The high powered rounds opened gaping wounds, and it screeched, not intelligently, but an animal going berserk. Its powerful claws dug into the floor to steady its self instinctively, but it wasn't enough. Carlos shot it down to the floor, where it lay convulsing and leaking blood, rolling all around the ground. In a thick puddle... until gradually it began to slow, and stop. Breathing deeply, Carlos examined his kill from a distance, stepping all the way out of the doorway, and a few steps into the room slowly, sweeping the area to make sure it was clear... gradually lowering his rifle as he came to a stop a few feet from the dead Hunter.

It was a storage room for the main laboratory alright... there were shelves along the walls, along with some desks and tables, all covered with assorted science equipment and boxes. The surface of each table was cluttered, and the shelves, but the rest of the room was surprisingly clean... save the mess he had just spread over the walls and floor with his kill. In various corners of the room were a couple lockers, a generator and some oxygen tanks along the wall hooked up together. A good amount of the equipment was very much intact, and probably exactly where it was since the Outbreak. It was almost as if the doctors and scientists, the zombies back at the elevator, has simply risen from what they had been doing, and as one had marched down the corridors. The lighting, like that of the corridors, was ambient... bright enough to reveal everything of importance, but maintaining a grim atmosphere. It gave him the chills, even now, after everything. Coupled with the silence... at least until HUNK sealed the heavy door behind them, which echoed through the room... and subsequently the noise that occurred from behind the shelves at the far end of the room.

The stirring movement that came with the sound. Clicking, long nails passing over the concrete floor, rhythmically, methodically. With the shelves and their junk covered sections in the way, Carlos couldn't make out what it was at first, his head snapping over in the direction as HUNK sealed the door. He couldn't tell, at least until came the release of a familiar hiss, and the shape making its way out of concealment and around the corner into sight. Another Hunter, accompanying the dead one. Misshapen and rotting, the dark red of its muscle tissue tensed and poised to lunge at them, to rip them apart furiously. While short, they were all incredibly stocky, with rigid scales from the reptilian DNA helping comprise them. Broad arms that could probably tear any person in half, even without using the claws to do the cutting of bone and sinew. It almost didn't seem to spot them at first, which was of little surprise. These things, despite standing out as they did, were naturally... well, no, engineered to be stealthy. To take after their name sakes.

What were they doing down here? Had they come through the ventilation shafts or sewers hunting the science team? If so, they hadn't gotten their claws on them. HUNK and Carlos had taken care of them. Had they already been from the laboratory? These were Beta Types, that's what HUNK had said... which meant there were other types out there, and probably far worse. He'd stick to shooting down Betas, thank you very much. Better the enemy you knew than whatever next one lie in wait... whatever form it took. It uttered a loud screech that nearly took him off guard, and lunged forward, scrambling up onto one of the nearby counters, knocking aside equipment to the floor. Beakers and bottles and microscopes fell this way and that, crashing on the floor and splattering liquids everywhere, gears rolling as the microscopes and glass broke. Thankfully, the moment it reached the surface of the counter, Carlos got his rifle up and aimed dead on at its midsection, squeezing down the trigger and letting it have it. A burst of shots caught it mere seconds before it could pounce a second time, claws outreached, Carlos's way. The high powered rounds tore through the muscle tissue, erupting blood that splattered all over the desk it was perched on.

The force of them knocked it backwards, and with another screech, it fell down over the side out of sight, still audibly stirring. Carlos ran forward, boots breaking glass, edging carefully around the side of the desk, and leveling his sights directly between its inhuman eyes that stared unblinkingly back at him in a pool of its own fluids. The mercenary blew its head off with the last of the rounds in the magazine, and with no hesitation. His rifle clicked empty, smoke rising from the barrel, and he glanced down at it as the dead Hunter, the misshapen lump that had been its head sprayed over the floor, twitched and writhed silently. Carlos exchanged the magazine quickly, locking and loading it into place, aiming down at the corpse... but holding his fire and sweeping the rest of the laboratory entrance, just to be sure. Before long, bloody boots trailing over the corpse and printing his steps on the floor, he'd accomplished this, lowering his rifle again and standing next to the shelf, glancing back towards HUNK. He nodded to the agent, and gestured him closer, glancing to the doorway at the far side of the room beyond the shelf that led to the laboratory. The lights on it were glowing red, electronically sealed... a card reader just next to the door. HUNK gestured for him to take position again beside the sturdy metal door, and Carlos did as much quickly, with HUNK taking position on the other side of it. As he had with the elevator, HUNK withdrew and inserted the card into the reader. It beeped at once, recognized the card, but the locks didn't disengage. 'Voice Recognition required' flashed on the small panel... just like the lock on the elevator. As HUNK looked back to Carlos, the young man was already digging the recording device out of his pocket, holding it next to the intercom and pressing the play button.

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to? I'm goddamn Nathaniel Bard!"

At once the audio system recognized the irate doctor, the red lights turned green, a series of locks within the door unlocking all at once. As HUNK withdrew and tucked away the card again, taking up his weapon, a smooth yet automated woman's voice spoke over an intercom on the door, nearly startling Carlos. Though pleasing him just as quickly, speaking as he rewinded, turned off and tucked away the voice recording again, just in case.

"Welcome back... Doctor Bard."

"Not quite, babe, someone much better lookin' and nicer. I don't usually hit on computer ladies, but even you're starting to look good about now. How you doin?"

"Flirt with a machine later, Oliveira. Time is wasting. Look sharp."

"Everyone's a critic."

At HUNK's countdown from three, the moment his fingers drew back and he hit the button that parted the automated doors, Carlos slipped through first, bursting inside quickly, his rifle sweeping the inside of the spacious laboratory, and staying at the ready for anything. His eyes scanned over the well illuminated area, and he paused where he was, taking it all in. None of the scientists, dead or otherwise, remained inside the cluttered primary laboratory. There was advanced equipment everywhere, all along the walls, much more so than had been at the entrance. Tech the ordinary hospital above sheltering this place hadn't possessed. Like the entrance there were shelves and work areas with plenty of beakers and other scientific devices. Painted in bright red, directly beside the door was a biohazard symbol denoting hazardous chemicals within the laboratory, that caution was required. Behind him, HUNK stepped past him and began exploring the lab himself, moving down away from Carlos, who's attention moved, almost at once, to the most telling feature of the area. Giant glass bio tanks... three of them... or rather there had been four, before one had smashed to pieces. Glass had crunched under HUNK and Carlos's boots when they had breached the lab. Two of them were close together while the third was off in a corner... they ignored that one for the moment. Raising his rifle again, pointing it to the other two, his eyes widened behind his goggles at what they found, suspended in the midst of the tanks of water. Two respective bulks of flesh and muscle, malformed and ominous, each with razor sharp claws, not unlike the hunched over Hunter Betas they had just killed outside the lab.

And yet there were differences, many of them, and obvious. There was nothing lizard-like to these things... they were amphibian in nature... and owed much more to frogs than they did to lizards. Carlos could discern neither eyes nor teeth. Its head and mouth were giant, as befitted of a creature likely possessing a long tongue like the animal it had been based upon. Its flesh, bulky muscle covered in veins, was a dark purple and black, rigid and tough, along with each set of limbs. More troublesomely, they moved within their respective tanks... but in a slow, leisurely manner that Carlos couldn't tell whether had something to do with the water in the tank, or them being conscious. It was too hard to tell, they possessed no facial features that gave anything away... as hideous as the other lizard Hunters had been, they possessed eyes with malice in them. They were breathing relaxingly... that much was obvious. He could hear the muffled breaths, sounds within the tank now and again. Carlos wasn't sure what disturbed him more, the way these things looked, or the fact he wasn't especially surprised. More weary than anything.

"What the hell are these things, man? I haven't seen them before..."

"Hunter Gammas, from the look of them."

Came the other low, muffled tone from further down the lab to Carlos's left. He glanced sideways to see HUNK paying no attention to the tanks or the creatures contained within them. Rather he was studying some documents he'd discovered at a desk just past some shelves, and examining all the nearby equipment. A desk light was stationed at said desk, but from where he was, Carlos couldn't glimpse the surface of it. HUNK was scouring all the different work stations, seizing files and notes... booting up computers and inserting his flash drive into them, as he had upstairs with Bard's computer. Pulling up and collecting more research data for his mysterious superiors, no doubt. Probably for Lord Spencer himself, for all Carlos knew. Carlos looked away from the masked agent at last and glossed over some papers posted at a station next to the tanks, silently reading them... and sure enough, as HUNK was correct. The papers confirmed the exact type of B.O.W. these Hunters were... through a report written by someone who sounded more like a proud, protective parent than a scientist. More than a little unhinged, really.

My little darlings,

It's already been three months since we fled here together. I find myself thinking back to the day you hatched... Your little voices made me tremble with pride...

Your adorable little bodies, brimming with incredible, destructive power... And, of course, that voracious, insatiable appetite. You are no less than the pinnacle of the Hunter series! And yet they ordered me to destroy you! They said you were unfit for use as weapons because of a few minor vulnerabilities!

So what if you're susceptible to heat? So what if your delicate mandibles are exposed when you feed? Haven't they ever heard of CHARACTER FLAWS? It is those very flaws that make you so very, very precious to me.

But we'll show them yet. Down here we'll continue to walk this evolutionary path together! We'll prove to Umbrella that you, my beloved Hunter Gammas, are truly superior!

-Doctor Logan, PHD.

"Real Frankenstein shit down here. Who the fuck was running this monkey farm?"

Carlos murmured to himself, and felt an involuntary chill reading the scientist's rantings, shuddering. Umbrella really needed a better screening process for their scientists, at this point. Carlos tucked away the madman's letter, and his eyes rose again to the deformed beings, heart beating quicker in their presence. Even with them subdued inside some kind of hibernation, he was not comforted. Hibernating things woke at some point after all, didn't they? There was nothing beautiful about these abominations... only a lunatic like the one writing the letter could think so. He drew a low breath, looking back to HUNK to still find him gathering data, though moving in a hurry, rapid, wasting no time in his data and document recovery. Carlos spoke up again his way, drawing a low breath.

"How do you know about them? The Hunter Gammas? Where did you first run into them?"

"Rockfort Island."

"Oh... right."

Carlos felt a chill run down his spine at the casual, curt mention of the island. Remembering the stories of the training and research facilities there. Its reputation. The island's batshit Commander, a blueblood named Ashford, grandson of one of the company's three original founders. No matter how curious he was, as it was on the topic of War, Carlos knew better than to ask the agent any more questions on that particular topic. Which stories were true and which weren't. Fortunately, HUNK went on at once, as though he'd never spoken, explaining the Hunters further... revealing information he hadn't expected the agent to. Given the usual secrecy of his missions.

"Another variation of the Hunter series. Umbrella Europe's and their connections here. Their attempt to copy and improve upon the work of Doctor James Marcus's failure with the Lurker series. Turn it to a success. A salvage attempt. Or rather, a game of oneupmanship they've been playing with William Birkin. They made them more intelligent than the Lurkers using data stolen from Birkin's successful Hunter Alphas. But besides that, they failed with the Gammas, just like Marcus did with his Lurkers."

"If that's true... where the hell did the third one go? Are there more of them around somewhere?"

"Sewers, probably. It doesn't matter. Those Hunters are secure, contained, can be dealt with simply enough... but this thing might be a problem. Get over here and take a look at this one."

Carlos forced himself to look away from the slumbering Hunters, at the muffled voice over from a corner of the lab... to find HUNK had finished with his data collection and was standing in front of the third intact tank. Reading a document he had recovered. Looking between the letter, the tank, and Carlos, beckoning him down to join him. Carlos glanced nervously at the Hunters one more time, before obeying, moving down quickly towards him. From where the agent stood, at first Carlos couldn't see what the agent did. As he reached his side before the tank though, Carlos saw it at once, freezing on the spot, as the agent looked over at him. Low, muffled tone emerging from the gas mask again with an impossible calm Carlos could never feign.

"Look familiar?"

"You gotta be fucking kidding..."

A tall, humanoid being resided floating within the tank, bubbles rising up around it from the bottom of the tank. Unlike the Hunters, it did not breath. Chalk white flesh, an emaciated form with the bones visible through taut skin. Some exposed muscle tissue in certain patches, like tears and burns across the white mosaic. Mutated, misshapen, smooth head... no eyes... waxy... like its flesh had melted and run together. The thing in the tank did not move... did not breath as the Hunters did... it may as well have been a horrific creation made of marble from some fucked up artist's imagination. Carlos wished that it were. Its razor sharp, shark-like teeth were gnashed together in a terrible, unmoving rictus of a grin. Worthy of the Tyrant. Looking like a mutation somewhere between a man, a shark and an alien. All at once, Carlos understood, slowly looking back at his reflection in the intact and cracked red reflective lenses at his side.

"It's them... the pale things, from the horde. They were watching us pass on the train. What the fuck are they?"

"One of Doctor Marcus's newborns. How proud he would have been. His legacy never ends. Here, read this. Looks like Umbrella was documenting them when they first started appearing. Been busy."

The Umbrella Agent held out the document he had been reading in offering. Carlos glanced down to it, reluctantly taking it... not sure he really wanted to know its contents. Before he started reading, he looked at the abomination within the tank again. Somehow, it was difficult to look away from. Perhaps fear... not wanting to take his eyes off something that looked like that. Sighing through the balaclava he began to read the contents aloud, as much to himself as to HUNK.

Dear Dr. Emmerson

I would like to formally request that the weaponry normally reserved for the Bioweapon Synthesis Team be made available for any employees interfacing with the admission and dismissal of test subjects. These test subjects do not present the same levels of danger as our bioweapon products, but I believe that this weaponry authorization is advisable as outlined below.

Recently, some test subjects have developed a new mutation granting them very high regrowth abilities. Our team refers to these specimens as "Pale Heads." They have been appearing with regularity, but the specific cause has not yet been determined. We theorize exposure to the Epsilon strain of the T-Virus, but are not yet certain. The astonishing rate at which these Pale Heads regenerate makes it difficult to deliver a lethal blow with standard weaponry. If any sort of system failure were to occur within our facility, we would be woefully underprepared to defend ourselves.

For this reason I would like to request that high-powered weaponry capable of subduing the Pale Heads be issued to all of our employees working in shipping and processing. This will ensure that, in the event of an emergency, we will be able to quickly eliminate the threat and evacuate safely. Thank you very much for your consideration.

Shipping and Processing Manager, Gabrielle Reed

Carlos breathed again deeply, considering the implications of the documents. At last looking up to the pale thing again. It remained as it had before... a silent and still horror. One with little effort in disturbing him, raising the hairs on his arms, and goosebumps. The letter only making it worse. Its abilities. Carlos couldn't find his voice for a long moment... thankfully HUNK had no such problem, himself watching the pale thing and speaking without a hint of unease.

"Seems it can regenerate... a mutation among the infected. You remember how scattered they were among the horde on the way to the clock tower? Probably many more of them by now."

"Yeah... I really didn't need to hear that."

"Hard truths are reality in war. Necessity. Even one like this. Reality is all that matters."

"Let's... just try not to wake the motherfucker. At least keep this one out of our reality. I ain't exactly eager to find out how much he can take, are you?"

"Not in the slightest. Let's get back to work. I've found the Medium Base... but we aren't done yet. Get over here and take a look at this."

Carlos studied the pale mutation within a bit longer, the agent withdrawing from his peripheral vision... hearing the movement of HUNK's boots behind him. It was like looking away from a disaster... difficult. At last he reluctantly looked up from the tank, to see HUNK's form residing on the opposite side of the tanks, even further down from where he had been before. He had looped around the laboratory while Carlos had been distracted. HUNK had slung his modified submachine gun, and was holding more papers in one hand, and something he couldn't discern in the other, while directly in front of a large machine. Carlos glanced back at the Pale Head and Hunters one more time, and lowered his rifle with hesitance, making his way around the various work stations and all the equipment of the lab, looping around amid the steady crunching of glass shards and moving to HUNK's side. Tucking away the documents on the Pale Head at the same time. The moment he passed the cluttered desk HUNK had been at and reached the agent, a dark glove passed off the papers he'd been examining. In the dim light of the lab, Carlos narrowed his eyes over the document, and he began to read aloud.

Umbrella Medical Service
North America Division
Douglas Rover

In order to activate the synthesizer to cultivate the vaccine, please follow the procedure as detailed below:

1: Supply enough energy to the system.

2: Set the medium base to the device.

When the device is ready, you can start mixing the vaccine medium. To mix the vaccine, you will need to control the five levers. This will cause the two gauges to increase or decrease. If you adjust the two gauges so that they stop at the center, the vaccine medium will then be produced automatically.

Carlos finished up reading the instructions and glanced up to HUNK's mask, who nodded, holding out to Carlos the small vial container he had found at some point in his thorough investigation of the place. Carlos tucked away the papers and shouldered his rifle, before taking the Medium Base delicately in both hands, looking it over carefully. It consisted of a clear liquid that he could almost mistake as water. As Carlos examined it, HUNK strode over to the large machine he had been closest to, stepping past the twin tanks containing the B.O.W.'s and looking the equipment over for a long moment. When he had finished, he gestured Carlos over to his side, low tone speaking again.

"We need to synthesize the Medium Base to produce the Vaccine Medium, before we can mix it with the Vaccine Base, and create the cure. That's where you come in, Oliveira. Activate the power supply on the generator, start the machine, and get to it. I'll stand guard."

"You want me to... what? Shouldn't you be the one... I mean, you know these annoying puzzles...-

"Won't improve if you don't practice, Oliveira. Always be a rookie unless you adapt, improvise and overcome a problem. Learn from it. Won't always be around to hold your hand. You have your orders."

Carlos had been hoping for the opposite situation. Studying the tall, daunting machine... he'd prefer HUNK to be the one doing the synthesizing, and Carlos the guarding. But peering back into the red lenses of HUNK's mask, he was well aware of orders when he heard them. Was in no mood to argue with the man... his voice brooked no argument... and time was of the essence. Instead, with a weary sigh, his eye moved over to the left, just opposite of the giant water tanks containing the Hunters... there were several much smaller tanks on a metal counter, each filled with liquid themselves... and floating fetuses and parts. Not dissimilar to the ones he'd discovered upstairs at Bard's desk. He glanced around the lab freely, realizing they weren't the only of its sort... biological parts and matter stored in similar smaller containers that were being examined... and he didn't enjoy the atmosphere of the place in the least. Really seeing it for the first time. Bad things had happened here... even as a potentially good thing, in the form of the cure, might result from it all. Sick experiments and testings... God knew what information HUNK had gathered, but Carlos was grateful not to have to read any of the details. Scientists gave him the creeps, and witnessing Umbrella's experiments, viewing the results first hand only made it worse.

HUNK for his part, as usual, gave not a hint of discomfort. Carlos envied that trait, among others. How cool he seemed to remain in this insanity... even as he saw glimpses of the cracks in the man now and again, little different from the crack running through one of his lenses. Shaking his head, Carlos did as he was bidden, approaching the machine. HUNK stepped out of his way, giving up his own position, and drew his submachine gun again. His laser sight swept over the area, passed over the B.O.W. containment tanks again... and as bad as things were, Carlos recognized, he could have worse watching his back. Umbrella's best with a napalm round weapon had his six... he'd take the agent standing guard over anyone else. The Corporal sighed, and examined the machine, rubbing his head wearily. It was a computer system of sorts with switches, dials, gauges and levers, among other intricate parts. He glanced at the panel on the synthesizer, noting where the Medium Base container was supposed to be placed. Nothing glowed or shone on the machine system, as it remained powered down.

"I'm no scientist... hell, I doubt either of us are... but I'll see what I can do. Which one's the generator?"

"To the right of the primary machine."

Sure enough, there it was... a small generator with a handle connected to it mounted to the wall, in the off position. A series of cords ran from it, connecting to both the synthesizer machine and other mechanical scientific devices around the lab... including the B.O.W. Tanks. There was a small, illuminated screen on the generator, denoting the different power sources it was connected to. A blue light and red one were positioned next to one another at the bottom of the generator's surface, and with the handle in the off position, the red light glowed brightly. Nodding to himself with satisfaction, he pressed a fingerless glove to the metal handle, and pulled it down firmly, securing it into place. The moment he did so, the red light dimmed, and the blue one flashed bright as the generator activated, buzzing to life.

He smiled faintly in the glow of blue... but it vanished quickly when he took note of the noise emanating not just from the generator, but the tanks. He glanced sideways to them, to find the liquid within bubbling rapidly around the Hunters... and worse still, the water at the top of the tank began to gradually lower. A drain inside the tanks had been opened, and the contents were pouring out beneath. Before long, all the water had emptied from the tanks, and the Hunter's feet touched their respective platforms within the tank, remaining standing upright. They breathed in unison, bodies moving, veins pulsating, water droplets falling freely... Carlos's hand went to his sidearm... but they made no move of hostility. He looked down to the lone tank containing the Pale Head... the water remained within it, at least... deep in its motionless slumber. Even in the absence of water, the Hunters also remained dormant within the sealed chambers. HUNK's red laser sight passed over the purple fleshed creatures, back and forth... and reluctantly knowing he had the situation in hand, Carlos lowered his grip from the handle of his pistol and stepped back over to the synthesizer, studying the activated machine.

Sure enough, lights on it emanated, blues and reds. At the top of the machine a red light shone bright, while on the first of the two gauges, blue lights shone up to the half way mark, where a single yellow light resided in the middle. On the gauge beside it, blue lights also reached the half way point, and had a sole yellow light as well, but by contrast of the first gauge, several red lights rose above the half way mark, denoting an imbalance. Remembering the instructions, he rose the Medium Base and secured it into place on the panel of the synthesizer. The machine responded at once, activating with an unpleasant beep, a light on it flashing red. Locking him out of the system and not taking in the Medium Base. Not accepting it. Carlos's heart beat quicker, dread coiling in his innards, and he looked back to the U.S.S. Agent with bewilderment.

"Think the fucking thing is broken... what the hell are we going to do now?"

"Not panic, for a start. Here. Take this."

The agent reached into a front pouch, producing something small and flicking it his way. Carlos just managed to catch it, turning it over in his hand... to find Doctor Bard's picture looking back at him. Healthy and whole, without the hole in his head. Carlos's gaze flickered from the identification card and back to the agent as his muffled voice continued.

"Find a card reader. Instructions must have assumed you were someone who already knew that step."

"Think of everything, don't you?"

"Wouldn't have survived this long if I didn't. Someone has to. Can't afford the luxury of ignorance."

Carlos chuckled a bit at that, and looked back to the machine, eyes swiveling rapidly over the device again. Managing to spot it... so small and concealed it had slipped past his tired eyes on the first examination. He slipped the card into the reader halfway. Sure enough, a green light flashed on next to the bright red one at the top as it identified it and fully activated the system with another beep. The Medium Base container was pulled down into the machine, as the systems started, awaiting his response. Thank God. There were so many combinations possible among the five levers... how many did he need to press to make a balance? Which ones? Drawing a low breath, Carlos's muffled tone behind the balaclava murmured aloud both to himself, and the other in the room.

"We're in business here. For the moment. I think those things in the tanks might disagree, if they're given the chance..."

"Focus, Oliveira. They aren't your concern."

"Then why do I want to keep looking over my shoulder?"

No response came, and Carlos was forced to keep going, eyes behind his goggles staring hard at the imbalanced gauges, before turning to the five levers next to them. Three, denoted by roman numerals I,II and III, were in a row next to one another. Below them, the remained two levers were marked A and B. There was a hollow, sinking feeling in Carlos's gut. Now he knew why HUNK had delegated the task to him. Not that he could entirely blame him for that. Carlos would have done the same thing, in the agent's position.

"Oh no. Not another goddamn puzzle.", Carlos muttered under his breath, and rubbing his face tiredly. "Why can't these things just make themselves simple? What the hell is wrong with Umbrella and its needless complexity?"

"Better you than me."

"You'd probably just shoot the synthesizer... and it would work anyway."

Carlos shook his head slowly, and just for the hell of it, to get started, he pulled down the A lever. The machine hissed, as though air were escaping, and simultaneously three of the blue lights in the first gauge lowered from the center, furthering the imbalance. He swore to himself. The first try never went well. It was almost as frustrating as playing Tetris, or Pipe Mania. Just as frustrating. Seconds he hesitated felt like minutes. He could feel sweat forming on his brow slightly. It didn't even have anything to do with the Hunters anymore. He didn't want to end up stuck here for hours... Jill... he tried not to think of her slowly dying... her request. A vaccine for the world... riding on his shoulders... and HUNK had given him this part in it. Never for Carlos had so much importance counted on something so foolish as a game like this. He almost wanted to laugh, but he was on the clock. He pressed the B lever next, and that just made things worse, frustrating him all the more.

He backpedaled to the first mistake, pulling the B lever to its original position, and contemplating the I, II and III levers. Gritting his teeth, he tried the III lever... and to his surprise, two of the blue lights in the first gauge rose back up, while two of the red one's in the second gauge lowered. The imbalance between them had narrowed ever so slightly. He tried his hand at lever II, and with a familiar hiss, the red lights in the second gauge rose back again to the top, and all the blue lights in the first gauge vanished entirely. The imbalance couldn't be wider. Carlos balled his hand into a fist... he was rarely so quick to temper, but right now he wanted to take a wrench and smash the synthesizer to pieces.

He forced himself calm with a few breathes, and drew lever II back to its original position, the lights returning to their narrowing imbalance.

Glancing to lever I, he went for it, expecting nothing. There was a hiss... and while Carlos was expecting the gap of imbalance to grow, instead the blue lights in the first gauge rose to the center, while the red lights in the second gauge plummeted to the center yellow light. His eyes widened with still shock, unblinkingly, as the machine beeped and a light next to the red and blue one's at the top of the machine activated a glowing green hue. Recognizing his success, Carlos uttered a victorious laugh and his fist shot in the air. There was a whirring within the machine, and the metal pieces that had taken the Medium Base into the synthesizer rose, and then retracted, small amounts of cold liquid nitrogen escaping into the air and dispersing.

"Fuck yes! That's what I'm talking about!"

The parts of the container Carlos had inserted into the machine were gone, replaced by a sealed Plexiglas vial containing a mixed red liquid solution within that rose half way to the top. At last, standing before Carlos's eyes like a beacon, resided the Vaccine Medium. Resided hope. Carlos took the vial at once, handling it even more delicately than he had the Medium Base. Regardless of how strong the vial its self was. He slapped the activated synthesizer machine appreciatively, breathed low and hard, and turned back to HUNK, beaming beneath the olive green balaclava.

"I did it!"

"Good work, Oliveira. Remove the identification card. We'll need it for the elevator."

"Done and done. Should we mix the components now? Make the cure? Do we need the synthesizer to do it?"

"No. We just need to mix them in that vial. But not yet. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. It isn't safe here. Hold on to your part. We'll take care of it when we get back to the security of the clock tower. For now, we need to focus on escape."

"Right, one challenge at a time."

Carlos found himself agreeing, flipping open one of the pouches on his vest and slipping the Vaccine Medium inside safely, making sure the pocket was empty of anything it might bump against. Even with its durable container he was taking no chances. Closing it back up, he unslung his rifle again instinctively and nodded in the direction of the agent. He wasn't about to get cocky now... he knew what he had nearly cost them all the last time he had. His thoughts went to the Leech Man again... but he drowned it out with the image of Jill in the church. And the world beyond Raccoon City... each of them needing the vaccine. Still he felt himself pulled between the two options that awaited them. Couldn't decide which. HUNK moved down to join him at the synthesizer, holding his hand out for the identification card. Carlos handed it over at once with a grateful nod, speaking again as the agent tucked it away once more.

"Let's get the hell out of this madhouse. Before we end up to our necks in leeches again. Worse. Never get them out of my head."

HUNK nodded in silent agreement, then took point ahead of Carlos, moving back down along the weaving pathway of the lab, with Carlos leaving the synthesizer in close pursuit. The two of them moved rapidly, Carlos couldn't get out of there fast enough... but before they could reach the door, there was a loud thump, powerful enough to pause them in their tracks, and redirect their attention as they neared the door. They both spun on the spot, to find the Hunters had woken from their hibernation, and had begun clawing at the containers they were trapped in. With great strength, they began cracking the respective tanks, to the point with one last mighty blow, the tanks exploded, and the creatures within dropped out on all fours. Carlos's wide eyes focused on one, which rose back slowly to two feet, and even blind, eyeless, it smelled them, turning in their direction. Two low, deep rumbling breaths emanated from the Hunter Gamma's giant mouth... sounding nothing like the frog it was supposed to be modeled on. And nothing else Carlos could think of in that moment of shock.

Both Hunters, picking their targets, lunged forward at HUNK and at himself, their giant maws parting and opening, great tongues visible in each. Carlos's rifle shot up and opened fire, just before the one he focused on could reach him, and in all likelihood cram him down its gullet. The pounding echo of rifle shots ripped through the lab, joined by the fainter echo of a silenced submachine gun tearing the other Hunter to bits. The red laser sight flashing about. In the heat of the moment, out of the corner of Carlos's eyes he could see flames tearing up over the Hunter Gamma's form, the armor piercing incendiary rounds shooting off its legs and arms, the barrel flashing along with the laser sight.

As the Hunter Carlos had targeted writhed on the floor among its dark, spurting fluids and parts, the laser sight passed rapidly and accurately over to it and fired a few rounds into it, lighting it on fire as well. Smoke, fire, and the smell of burnt flesh rolled through the enclosed area. Some of Carlos's bullets tore into the generator and synthesizer beyond the smashed tanks, destroying them, while HUNK's napalm rounds started setting fire to a good portion of the place, files and equipment going up. Flammable chemicals being set off. Smoke billowed, but Carlos, having taken his precautions, was not effected as much as he would have been. The hissing, writhing and cooking Hunters were overwhelmed by the barrage, and stood no chance in the onslaught. Adrenaline coursed through Carlos, rejuvenating him, overtaking the exhaustion. It was the complete opposite of what had happened on the fourth floor, with the Leech thing. This time he wasn't the one being taken off guard. These freaks of science were. A welcome change of pace. The U.S.S. Agent ejected his spent extended magazine, popping in a fresh one. As he did, Carlos looked over to the corner tank, the only one remaining intact... mercifully undisturbed... and Carlos breathed a sigh of relief. Glancing back over to HUNK and flashing him a thumbs up, grim voice speaking up again.

"Well... at least the Pale Head is still sound asleep. Like a big horrible baby."

At the end of the onslaught, as the gunfire ceased, and the smoke bathed the room, as it had been upstairs a fire alarm was tripped. The blaring noise activated, worse even than last time, pounding in Carlos's skull like a hammer, and he winced, readying himself, trying to ignore it as best he could. The sprinkler system kicked in almost immediately after, drenching Carlos all over again before he'd even half way dried from the last downpour. Deep, spreading puddles of water, mixed with the fluids of the Hunters, flowed around Carlos and HUNK's boots as they moved past the burnt corpses of the Hunters and over near the laboratory door, moving amid the glass and chaos. Little by little, the fires began to die down, but the machines began to explode as the combination of water and electrical damage destroyed the generator. Computers and electronic equipment shorted out and exploded, spraying sparks about. Over in the far side of the room, another explosion rang out... this one of glass and rushing water. The lone containment tank in the far corner gave way at last, and the floating white body within flopped out to the floor amid the water, silent, sleek and still.

It remained so only a moment longer, before slowly rising up tall... its silent slumber broken.

Despite how misshapen, mutated and inhuman it was... it turned in their direction with a slow, deliberate ease. Looking back at them where they stood in front of the laboratory door silently... seeing them, without any eyes. Saliva and water dripping off it... rictus of a grin only deepening. Intelligence. Or something resembling it. All Carlos really saw was a hunger beyond any other. Smoke was rising from its stark white flesh... there were some deep cuts on its body from the glass, blood streaming along its soaked form. Carlos and HUNK watched, quiet as the grave, as its wounds began to knit over before their very eyes. The smoke rising from the wounds as they did so, before healing over altogether... the downpour of the sprinklers washing the scarlet fluid away as well. As if the wounds had never been. He should have laughed bitterly at the cruel, sudden turn of events. Instead he felt numb dread. But not inaction. He already knew the best course of action. Without even aiming his rifle at the thing, Carlos slowly looked back at his own dual reflections in HUNK's silent, watchful red lenses, and said what occurred most naturally to him in that moment.

"Fuck all that noise. Let's get the hell out of here. Warp eight."

The Umbrella Agent didn't disagree with the Corporal's threat assessment or suggestion of tactical withdrawal, simply nodding. Quickly, neither man much caring to test the thing's regenerative capabilities any further, waste ammunition or risk possible electrocution getting closer to it, HUNK tapped the button and opened the laboratory containment door and stepped through. Carlos joined him at once, retreating through, and the moment he did HUNK withdrew the identification card and slid it back into the card reader. The system rapidly scanned it and the green lights turned red. The automated system responded at once. Slamming shut the heavy door of the laboratory behind them, numerous electronic and mechanical locks within sealing, sealing out the blaring of the siren and the downpour. And the view of the horrific Pale Head leering down at them. Sealing the mutated threat away within its new tomb. Carlos's drenched form remained where it was for a moment, breathing deeply through the balaclava, before he turned, shared one more knowing nod with the agent, and continued on their way. But his body moved of its own accord... on instinct of routine. His attention remained firmly elsewhere. HUNK moved down the corridor towards the elevator to take them topside again, card in one hand at his side, with Carlos in close pursuit. Their boots tapping over the floor. Passing among the fallen infected corpses, boots pressing through blood and kicking aside brass casings, the banging of the zombies on the metal door to the sewers and NEST echoed throughout it. Their snarls and moans, excitement returning. Even with that commotion, and the sight of the distant elevator, welcome and beckoning, the deadly red warning symbol on the wall next to the lab containment door stood at the forefront of Carlos's thoughts.

Biohazard.

The pale, faceless, alien thing appeared to him again, the image violating his thoughts... rising, staring and silently snarling. The Leech Man appeared in the elevator and the writhing leeches affixed to it, screaming horrifically as it burned. The Hunters grunting a guttural sound and charging, leaping to decapitate or swallow him whole. The worms that had spilled from a zombie's guts and crawled across the floor to eat him. The sight of Doctor Bard's mutilated corpse. The explosion that had claimed Tyrell. Nikolai's cold stare as he pointed the pistol at Carlos's head. In the hell that was Raccoon City, this slaughterhouse posing for a hospital... he couldn't disagree with the sign's grim summation of the premises.

More than that though... it was in that very moment Carlos decided he'd had his fill of hospitals for one lifetime.