LuckyNumber1: You're just going to have to be patient and stay tuned for your questions to be answered ;) can't very well spoil everything, but I appreciate the passion a great deal. I hope my story is a satisfying one, I can't please everybody, just tell the story as it is to me and hope for the best.
Rock992: Sorry to hear about your experience, glad you made it. But yes, a situation like the one HUNK is in was a good opportunity to delve into his head some more. There will be more of that to come. Ah the old 'subverted expectations' nothing I despise more than writers who write for cheap 'GOTCHA!' shock value, to the detriment of the story and characters and logic. I give hints along the way to the things I'm going to do for the most part, I don't write a story trying to surprise anyone. If they are surprised because they failed to recognize the hints leading up to something, then it is more genuine, not forced. Much appreciated, I'm glad this got you back into reading, and to have the effect this story seems to be having with people, resonating. I guess the HUNK story was long overdue... and I'm glad to be the first to really tell it. Canon or not.
I listened to that song as well, and it's surprising how close to the mark it is lol I suppose there is a song for every story or relationship, etc. As for how he wants to die one day... in a way that isn't for Umbrella. Something of meaning and value, substance. Of his own free will.
Magd305TLC: Thank you as ever. You can expect more development of HUNK and all those relationships with the characters. Hope you like the revelations I have in store, and what is to come.
evolution-500: You know the man's immortal words ;). And I enjoy the character interactions as well, especially to HUNK, which help reveal him. More of that to come. As for a sequel, I have ideas and an outline. We shall see, don't want to make promises and disappoint anyone... even knowing some will be if I don't get around to one lol. I have a few stories I'm working on... we'll see where the creativity winds blow.
Jinero: Sad to say, more likely, if Birkin had lived and escaped Raccoon City he would get total amnesty from his crimes, and go to work on the U.S. Government/Derek Simmons/The Family's own bioweapons program, I'm afraid. Where he would go on to commit many more atrocities, down in a lab of his own, just like his old mentor Marcus. Like teacher, like Student. Probably even have Sherry delivered to him to experiment on... either way, another steady supply of subjects. There would have been a bit more justice if HUNK had succeeded in taking him in alive and delivering him to Spencer. Even then, Birkin would have been put to work for Spencer down in the labs under Spencer's Estate, just like Marcus in his school. Either way if he lived he was going to get ahead in some way, end up like his mentor... though not comfortably if it had been Spencer who got a hold of him. Likely once Birkin's use was expended, Spencer would have him slowly tortured to death for his betrayal. As it stands, getting gunned down by a U.S.S. Agent like Marcus was and infected by his own virus was the best poetic justice possible for Birkin... though the consequences of it were obviously catastrophic.
No worries at all, I like answering the questions that I can, as long as they don't spoil things too much. I want to leave my interpretation and insight on the Resident Evil universe around here, and I like the discussions. You and others are free to send me private messages when this story is over, if you wish.
Echo Five: Not sure what he would think of them, it would depend on who he is by then. He's a character still going through development. As for how the surviving S.T.A.R.S. would see my interpretation of HUNK, as this story stands:
Chris: Chris would despise him, and quite rightly and justifiably. He would assess HUNK for what he has done, his actions, and judge him accordingly. He would not approve of anything between him and Jill, as a protective big brother type and Jill's partner, he would wonder if she's gone crazy falling for an Umbrella henchman... it would be a big source of arguing and tension between the two. Even hearing that HUNK saved her life, I don't think it would be enough to change his mind. It might make him wonder a bit and hesitate... but Chris has a solid head on his shoulders, and is not biased in the way Jill is by personal feelings. If anyone would know how dangerous and untrustworthy HUNK is, it's Chris.
Barry: He's older, fatherly, and a former Umbrella goon himself, so would be more understanding and sympathetic to Jill's situation with HUNK. All the same, he would not lower his guard around HUNK, is no naive fool, would know the sort of person he is, and feel sorry for Jill falling for such a man. He would be a bit neutral about HUNK himself personally, and be there to support Jill.
Rebecca: Rebecca would be as conflicted as Jill, if not more so, seeing the good and evil in HUNK. Being younger and more optimistic than Jill, though still with some experience, I think she would call HUNK out much more, be a more outspoken personality to him. Where Jill is a bit more reserved and careful, and is frightened of and attracted to HUNK, Rebecca wouldn't hesitate to confront him, no matter how dangerous he is. He would remind her of Billy... but if Billy were actually a criminal instead of framed. I think there would be a strange mutual attraction, and interesting dynamic between the two, if they were forced to work together in a life or death situation like the one he is sharing with Jill in Raccoon City. Could make an interesting story, but no promises.
Arkham Knight: Funny you should say that, you'll be learning a good deal more about the lady sooner than you think ;). The Boss was one of the many inspirations I had for her indeed. Though I can confirm she does not physically appear in this story. She's too big and important a character, her shadow is already hanging over HUNK and his story as it is. Perhaps in the future.
Spartan: Difficult to say over that photo, I think it was more an Easter Egg from the developers than a canon piece of material. If there was a canon reason for Wesker having that picture, I'd say Wesker was simply doing research into Rebecca's past, what with her being the newest recruit, making sure she wasn't a wildcard to his plans. He probably did the same extensive research into every other S.T.A.R.S. member... he certainly knows Jill's father was a professional burglar, that she was as well before giving it up. But he kept that secret to himself. I seriously doubt it was anything sexual or attraction based to him having that picture. Wesker is only interested in Wesker... and perhaps his villain bro Birkin lol.
Alex: Thank you friend, I try my best to get the details of the story right, I go over the chapters a fair bit ironing them out before posting, adding and modifying things. I want to make a vivid picture of the world, make it seem a more 'alive' universe with things going on even outside the three heroes. As for writing any more Resident Evil stories, no promises, all depends on how my creativity goes. I have some ideas, but time will tell. Don't want to disappoint anyone with not kept promises. Sadly all stories must inevitably come to an end, I just hope I do justice to the characters and universe on the way to that ending, and that you continue to enjoy it.
Jill's options in the game were to push the Nemesis off the bridge and enter the factory through the doors, or jump off it into the river to escape, entering the facility through the drainage canal. I balanced the two by having a bridge fight and her and Carlos going through the doors, and HUNK going off the bridge. Honoring both options in a way, while splitting them up so they could be on their own again to develop their characters further.
Vong: Oswell Spencer would be somewhat proud of villain Carla, what she has become and the power she attains, her intelligence and will, ambition. Reviving Umbrella and coming closest of all the villains in the series to bringing the world to ruin and ruling over what was left. I don't think Spencer wants to destroy the world the way she wanted to though, rather rule over it as an immortal God. HUNK on the other hand would be deeply, genuinely saddened by what has become of Carla. Of anybody, by the end of his life James Marcus would be the most proud and pleased with what Carla becomes if he lived to see it. He wanted the same thing, while making his plans, listening to music and butchering test subjects down under his school. The sick old bastard would have been proud to mentor her.
Jill doesn't know if the Kendos made it or not, would obviously be saddened to find out if they didn't. I haven't decided if Robert's Ghost Survivors scenario is canon in this universe or not. I just might make it so, in which case he does survive. Joseph Kendo is still alive either way, his shop is set up far away from Raccoon City, in San Francisco, he later designs a gun for Leon in RE 4.
Akira-Hayama: I appreciate that, and very much enjoy turning simple scenes in the game into something more, sort of in my mind what could have been done in the remake, but the actual remake didn't quite succeed. I like vividly setting up the location and scene, the tension and atmosphere, and then boom, the action you knew was coming happens in it. Tension in a scene is very important, trying to strike the right mood, it can be hit or miss.
It's definitely a switch in HUNK, survival instincts, honed for years with Umbrella Security Service, that he flips every time he has to. Becomes his old self when necessary, even if inside we see the toll being that person is taking on him. It has advantages and disadvantages, like his toxic relationship with Umbrella. Jill being on the outside able to observe this is the perfect vehicle for commenting on it, how it's both impressive and scary to her. That's exactly what it is, there's nothing right or normal about HUNK's mindset, what he has become, even if it will become understandable. Being as at ease around B.O.W.'s, monsters, as he is. Cold and calculating. Going from the boy who threw up after gunning down an old madman in his lab, to the man we know in this story. Even Jill with her experience will never become cold and used to monsters or fighting the way he is. And that's a good thing, it's not the sort of life anyone should be used to. It makes him superior in some regards, in war, obviously, but look at the price he paid with his personality and position, as an assassin, criminal for a global corporation. I maintain he is more of an Anti Villain than an Anti Hero in this story, but all the same, he's a complicated one. To the rank and file employees at Umbrella he's basically a badass celebrity... they can't see the unseen personal cost, too busy buying into his legend. Jill can see it though, sees him as he is, and she cares, what makes her so different and important to him.
The character development of HUNK will only continue... hope you enjoy the journey for him, the uncharted waters, pun intended lol.
Lol yes as much as I liked that, Jill just casually shoving something as big and dangerous as the Nemesis off the bridge wasn't quite right to me. I already justified her shoving it off the clock tower balcony by having it injured and staggered from electricity and shotgun rounds, and it being pre mutation/Super Tyrant Nemesis. No chance that was happening at the suspension bridge without her getting torn to pieces by its tendrils and claw lol. The shooting the cable idea made more sense, playing with that, and on its intelligence, followed by the grenade launcher to the bridge. I thought it best to honor both options from the game of proceeding inside the factory or jumping off the bridge, by splitting them up, having HUNK go over the bridge and have his own part of the journey, while they went inside. I like to play with the options, sort of split the difference. Playing with it a bit in my own way, with a twist or alteration that makes sense.
K4zuk1: RIP Shotgun, and yes indeed we're getting towards the end, slowly but surely.
117: Stay tuned ;).
Good selection of music for them, a bit melancholy but not ominous, as the RE 3 Save Room theme 'Free From Fear' is. I also lean towards the Resident Evil 2 Save Room theme, melancholy but hopeful.
No idea, a good amount though, between three cut gems. The price against Jill doesn't really matter, I don't have a particular sum in mind, what matters more to the story and characters is that there is a price on her head. And that she has become a walking biological commodity. You are right though that it went up significantly when she was infected by the Nemesis Parasite and cured.
bakaultima: Lest we forget, RIP Mine Thrower and Shotgun.
mistersnx: Much appreciated, I hope you enjoy the story ahead of you.
Thank you all for the reviews as ever ;). And it seems I was incorrect, I do have one more Carlos POV in me. And here you go:
October 1st, 1998, 3:12AM
Rear Entrance Corridors, Incineration Disposal Plant P-12A, Northern Raccoon City
"That's it! Let em' have it Jill!"
The rapport of her pistols pounded inside his throbbing skull, alongside the moans of the shambling dead pouring down the metal corridor behind him. In another time, the further pain to his eardrums would have angered him... but hearing them now, with her having at last snapped out of her shocked trance, it was a godsend. From the corner of his eye he watched Jill take up a covering position in front of his position in the hall, working hard to repel the zombies. The shambling dead of the facility had very nearly been upon them when Jill had frozen, for perhaps the first time he'd seen her do so. Her reasons had been understandable, but regardless, their timing had been dangerous. He'd been shouting at her to fire... but there had been no response while he barricaded the doors... at least, until there was a response. At the last moment, the modified Beretta, and... whatever strange pistol that had belonged to HUNK, had begun to roar like a lion. He remembered earlier, and quite randomly and vividly, that it could go fully automatic... a machine pistol of sorts, but of a custom make he'd never seen.
She'd torn up the Nemesis's face with all the rounds, right up close at near point blank range. As she'd emptied a magazine into the giant worm. Regardless of his relief to have Jill at least partly back in the game, he winced painfully as she opened up. He wasn't going to be surprised if he needed a hearing aid after all this was over. One after another he continued slamming pieces of rebar between the handles of the locked metal doors, reinforcing and barricading it as best he could with the scrap material close by. Working amid the moans, the gunshots, the raining of shell casings on the concrete... and the bodies hitting the floor. There was already a series of locks in place on the doors, that he had secured... but he needed to be sure. That what lay outside the plant's doors, dangling over the ravine, remained out there. A thing far worse than the creatures shambling to eat them alive. Something he now believed only nuclear fire could eradicate. He needed to ensure that HUNK's sacrifice had not been in vain. Hadn't been for nothing.
His last image of the agent plummeting to his death... his words... and Jill's screams had shifted something inside him... tapped into something. Some protective instinct, maybe. He didn't feel like the kid in the situation any more. Throughout the outbreak, he'd grown up more than most people did in a lifetime... perhaps. Someone had to take charge, the reins from HUNK... and the agent had handed them off to him with his choice. He hadn't been able to protect anyone in his unit for long... or save them. Not Captain Mikhail... not Murphy... and he likely had been unable to save the little girl from the infected for long either. Nor any of the other civilians, officers and survivor he'd helped along the way. But he could save Jill. It was still possible. They could still protect each other and get out of this mess together... such as their current prospects were. They were as close as they were going to get... within the final obstacle... the steel corridors of the plant. A helicopter he could pilot, above somewhere. Escape. If ever they would have a chance, it was here and now. Only by going onward, not back.
It was the chance HUNK had bought them.
He'd not... considered for a second the possibility the agent would die. Not after everything he'd survived since they'd met up in that restaurant. Not after the hospital, and graveyard. It wasn't right... the stories said he couldn't die. The legend around him. He always survived. He'd lived up to the stories from the moment they'd met... despite everything else. Nor had Carlos thought that he would sacrifice himself for others... the suddenness of the action stunned Carlos... and he remained numbed considering it. Yes, he'd gone out of his way finding the cure for Jill... had saved his life in the process... but that had not been what this was now. While doing so certainly risked his... mission, to take that vile 'G-Virus' of his back to Umbrella, it was not the same as outright being willing to give that mission up. From everything he'd heard of the man, and now seen, he had never suspected him capable of stepping back from his mission. Failing it deliberately. And sure as hell not for them. Where before he had been stewing in anger... now he stewed in bewilderment. Trying to come to grips with it all. Carlos had been so close to the bioweapon, wherever HUNK had kept it on him among the pouches, when both he and Jill had been struck unconscious before. And he'd not bothered searching all of his pouches... in so doing missing it. He'd had no reason to look for it anyways, hadn't known about it... he'd been in fear for their lives. Focused on them, not going through their things.
Focused on the vigil he'd held over them.
The Sergeant, damn him... had made a point even he couldn't deny. As much as he hated the silver haired bastard. How close Carlos had been, and how blind, was just another thing he wondered about. Now the G-Virus lay in the river, with its owner. He'd been with them so long... and in spite of the anger and contempt he held for the masked man... for his lies, manipulation and deceit all along... part of him still couldn't quite believe what had happened. He felt the conflict... even now, between the man he'd fought beside in the hospital and clock tower, and the one he'd been revealed as. The one that should have been obvious to Carlos, but he had forgotten along the way as they had worked to survive as a team. He didn't know what to think about the U.S.S. Agent, any longer. Because of this shocked numbness towards the agent, the more predominant anger he held was for the Tyrant itself... the Nemesis, and the other monsters. Things he could despise without any conflict, that really had tried at every turn to harm them, kill them before they could escape.
HUNK was an unknown factor, even now, to be contemplated over... but he knew damn well what the Tyrant was. Something to be hated, without such moral compunctions. He felt a million things... and above all, confusion, pain and exhaustion from his burdens, journey and the losses. Towards the very end, when most everyone had been killed, and they had still held Central Street Station... six survivors had become five with Murphy's execution... five had become four with Nikolai's betrayal. Four had become three with Captain Mikhail's sacrifice... and now they were two, with the enigmatic Umbrella Agent's sudden departure. But still he soldiered on. There were no other options. They had to live. Had to survive. To do what they had to. If he froze again, as he already had, it was all over. He could only continue, lest the weight of all those losses, the pain and aggravation, overtook him. Then, he would be useful to nobody, much less himself, in his despair. They were not yet defeated. There was still a chance. It was on that chance he focused himself.
Finally, when every lock was secured and the rebar firmly fitted in place, Carlos turned on the spot, unslung his rifle, took position and aim up next to Jill and opened fire himself. The roar of the rifle overtaking even that of her pistols. He fired quick but accurate single shots, into the approaching dead, intently focused. Upon turning, aiming down his scope and separating brains from skulls under his direction, the bloodbath that was the corridor made itself known to him. A sprawling corridor, stretching into the distance greeted them. Along with all the complex the metal works of the facility. A long grated steel floor ran up the center of it, along with railing on each side. Intricate series of pipes ran along each of the walls and wove into the ceiling, steam coming off some of them, but each of them undoubtedly heated. There were a few ventilation shaft openings at different sections of the ceiling and walls as well, circulating some of the stifling air with a slight cool breeze through the metal covers.
Even with them installed, he could feel the sweltering warmth of the place, even through his vest and uniform... even over the sweating heat that had already preoccupied him from the battle at the bridge. The interior reflected every bit as much as its exterior... a rusted metal and chipped concrete death trap, promising nothing good for them. He was reminded of a boiler room of sorts. There were lights at different sections of the walls and roof, but above all they were bathed in the sickly green glow of the exit sign over top of the sealed doors. There were various warning signs posted up, shifting temperature gauges and blinking lights on wall panels, denoting a number of functions Carlos had no idea about. Though if the former staff were in any condition to, he imagined they'd be able to tell him. The stench entering the place, hell, even from outside had hit him first, before even the creatures had spotted them... and now the place reeked even worse than ever. Between the smell of rot and chemicals, it was all he could do not to cough up a lung.
He almost envied Jill's broken nose at this point. He doubted even putting back on the balaclava would make much of a difference... but he was sure at some point he wouldn't have a choice in the matter but to break it out. Groups of rotting corpses, former men and women clad in different, worn down, blood stained security and maintenance uniforms lay twitching along the floor. Blood and bits of skull and brains were spattered into the walls and ground around them. The zombies that remained shambling, that had greeted them with moans and clutching dirty hands, were pushing up against the bodies in their path, stepping up and over them. There had to be dozens of them in the corridor, coming from the one at the end of it leading around the corner. Albeit by now, between their combined gunfire along the path leading to the sealed back doors, a number of them had been dealt with.
But not all.
They remained relentless as ever, set on making them join their horde. He quickly noticed they were all in much more decomposed, rotting states than the infected outside. God knew how long this factory had been choked with the dead, unable to get out. Carlos held his breath as he focused on selective targeting of the creatures, shooting one clad in blood stained maintenance coveralls in the head over by the wall. The round punched cleanly through its hard hat, its skull, and blood sprayed all over a steam pipe and temperature gauge, raising further emanating clouds on contact. It swayed sideways, knocking over a pair of others that it fell against, and they collapsed in a heap together, struggling to get up, even as the others stepped over them. Yet their suicidal attack pattern, devoid of thought or strategy, combined with the corridor funneling them in and their combined fire rendered the living dead no match. One by one their numbers fell... until only a couple remained, a former blonde Umbrella worker and a heavy security guard in a tattered uniform and vest.
With the last of the shots in his magazine, Carlos dropped them where they stood. Moments passed in the wake of the massacre, before Carlos slowly lowered his smoking rifle again, standing with Jill amidst the shell casings at their boots. The ambient lighting of the facility's interior emanated over the dark gore stains lining the rotting corridor. The blood streamed in various sections of the floor, running like puddles over the stained cement... and trickling down through the cracks in the grating. Flies already flew over the corpses, undoubtedly having infested the rotting bodies, for however long they had been trapped in the disposal plant. They were all in various states of decomposition, even before they'd been put down for good... not one of them was newly turned or fresh. Flies and maggots crawled on a number of their flesh, and if he had anything left in his stomach to vomit up, Carlos might have between the sight and the smell.
Some of them continued to twitch and stir among the bodies lining the floor... and Carlos watched Jill slowly move closer toward the fallen. While he popped his spent magazine and began to reload, further rapports rang out as she finished off those trapped beneath the other bodies, their hands reaching for her legs. And promptly dropping, slackened, to the ground. Jill's gaze was hard and powerful as she cleaned up the remnants by herself... there was no hint of the overwhelming grief that had lined her features outside. But like the inside of himself, something had changed in her. He saw the impact of the trauma... reminding him of how she'd looked lying in the clock tower's chapel. She was a bloodied, disheveled, bandaged mess... along with her messy, soaked wet bob hairstyle he imagined had formerly been neat and tidy. Even in her civilian attire... an outfit that might give most the wrong impression, there was no wrong impression to be had of the elite police officer standing in front of him, emptying rounds into foreheads without so much as blinking or hesitation. She no longer looked at all like the woman who had barged in on him, through that doorway back at the Grill 13 restaurant.
Her blue eyes owed more to a soldier's eyes now than they did to the kind, sympathetic, if weary ones he'd seen before. Specialist Jill Valentine, the one wearing the dog tags, not Officer Jill Valentine devoid of a badge. He didn't remember her ever telling him what she'd been doing during the outbreak... what she'd survived... why she hadn't fled the city... but he imagined if she'd been with his team, things might have taken a better course. Or he liked to imagine anyways. She killed the rest of them methodically, and with purpose. Not afraid of them... or at least past showing it. When the last roaring rapport echoed through the corridor, still she held both pistols trained on the final corpse she had made... hovering over a former worker's missing face. Carlos was taken aback by her manner only for a moment, before, after reloading, he moved up to her side again, sweeping over the bodies carefully... but it wasn't required... she'd taken care of them already. He gestured for her to follow, and the two scrambled over the body's and through the puddles of blood, tracking boot prints all over the hall.
Their combat boots tapped loudly and audibly over the metal, echoing through the entrance corridor. When they reached the end of the corridor, Jill turned around off to the left hand side, covering him... and opened fire again promptly when moans began to emanate beyond. There were many of them here... and this was only the back entrance of the facility. God knew what lurked deeper within the recesses of the factory. How mutated the others would be. They had gotten lucky there were no Pale Heads or the ones with the glowing eyes among these ones. But how long was their luck liable to hold out for? Carlos, more than certain she could handle the threats she had encountered, glanced off to the right direction of the entrance corridor's far end... to find a powerful steel shutter closed securely into place. There was a card key reader panel beside it that he quickly examined... it was electronically locked down, and had a single glowing red light on it. From the looks of it, and the thickness of the steel... he doubted even explosives could get past it. There above was the sign, both beckoning and taunting them, in unison with the red light, denoting three locations beyond the sealed door.
Facility Control And Communications Tower
Central Personnel Elevator
Scrapyard Passageway
Carlos looked back at the electronically sealed door... uttering a low, weary breath. It figured. Nothing would come easy. Even if they had the equipment for hacking, he doubted they'd have enough time left to crack the encryption before the city's destruction commenced. Security was no joke in the facility, that was for damn sure. With their luck it was the door to the helipad they would have to bypass. Behind such a shutter, and with such security devices installed, it had to be a vital sector of the facility. If they were fortunate, they might find a keycard laying around somewhere... but he wasn't holding his breath. Over that, anyways. But it was something that would have to wait. One task at a time. He quickly pivoted back on the spot, raising his rifle and rejoining Jill as she put down some of the other zombies that greeted them. Only to find the last one, a rotting man in a shredded, gore streaked jumpsuit, dropping to the floor before he could aim and squeeze off a single round. There weren't nearly as many of them down this bend in the corridor as there had been to greet them when they had barged inside.
Their numbers were sparse here... not even a handful, and Jill had gone through them like a sickle. Whereas, glancing back over his shoulder again, down to the sickly green neon lights of the doors... the rotting bodies lying among one another filled it, and the blood drenched it. Even now, after having fought beside her so long, part of him couldn't help but admire her handiwork. Before beckoning him over to take a look back in the corridor section with the electronic door. She followed him at once with displeasure lining her bruised, swollen features, looking at it as he finally spoke up again.
"There's our way out, most likely. Elevator will probably get us to the helipad platform. Of course the way is locked."
"We'll need to find a keycard, then. We'll check these bodies to be sure. If not, we'll search elsewhere."
"Marvelous. Always the dirty jobs. Time to roll up our sleeves, then. Well... if you had any. Mine already are."
Carlos grimaced as he looked among the decomposing, infected bodies... watching the maggots and flies on them again, repressing a shudder. All the same, he knew she was right, and their options were limited. Necessity beckoned to them. His desire to escape was stronger than his repugnance with the mess of the bodies that awaited them. The smell of rotting flesh, piss, shit and blood. As foul as it had been at Central Street Station, absent only of the stench of burning flesh. The rest of the rancidness of advanced decomposition more than made up for it, unfortunately, along with the smell of chemicals permeating through the walls. Lowering his rifle, watching as she began, searching a security guard's vest, he nodded at last, and got to work joining her. Together they fell into a pattern of looking over the corpses, after making sure they were truly dead. Checking pouches and pockets all over their uniforms, moving rapidly, checking lapels. Through it all, they found no keycard on the many bodies. Starting at the first bodies and ending up in the final corridor section she had cleared out. Working meticulously. It was hot work, with the temperature of the place, he felt the sweat pouring off his back and chest, all over his face. Stopping now and again for a sip of his canteen. Finally, the last body devoid of a keycard, cursing in frustration under his breath, Carlos looked up at her, rising and wiping the sweat from his brow with his arm. Taking up his rifle again, grip tightening around it, looking back Jill's way once more.
"So much for that bright idea."
"There has to be one around here somewhere."
"Yeah, but where?"
"These people were ordinary workers, not the scientists who ran the place. If anyone had access to the entire facility, keycards, it'd be them."
"Good thinking. We'll find them, deal with it soon. Ought find somewhere safe to hold up, first. Figure things out. Maybe find a map of the place."
"Yes. Don't like the look of these vents. Let's keep moving..."
Jill agreed quietly, tearing her eyes away from said vents and gesturing her Beretta in the direction they still needed to explore. Although they stood beneath a light overlooking the shutter, a good amount of the subsequent bend in the corridor was illuminated in blue glowing light, emanating from beyond a chain link fencing. The light was reflected off a bunch of heavy machine equipment, along with turning valves and thick piping little different from those running along the ceiling of the corridor, from what he could tell. It cast shadows of the fencing all over the walls... along with their own, as they moved again, weapons at the ready, past it. Jill's blue tube top caught most of the light, rendering it seemingly vibrant again for the few moments they were bathed in it... while highlighting the numerous blood stains in the process. Along the way he took notice of the security cameras stationed at various points... a small green light glowing on them, tracking them... automated cameras. No doubt they'd witnessed the downfall of the facility... part of him was morbidly curious what those tapes looked like. The sane part of him would want to burn them. Ignoring the cameras, focusing ahead, ordinary bright light resumed again, greeting them, as they stepped past the chain link fencing, and turned around the next bend in the hall, to the right. One final corridor greeted them, shorter than the winding one before. To their immediate right the green glow of a light over top a closed metal door wad visible... and in the light Carlos's eyes swept over the sign close to it, denoting the room.
Treatment Control Room
Authorized Personnel Only
"Down here, Carlos."
The Corporal looked back to Jill at her voice, to find her eyes had moved further downward, to the other metal door on the corridor, on the far left hand side. Ignoring the control room, she moved on down towards it and Carlos followed suit, rifle remaining at the ready, aiming up among the pipes, chain link and walkways overhead now and again. Keeping an ear out. As they reached the door together, Carlos glanced up to the illuminated lettering just above the doorway.
Break Room
Carlos listened for any moans or footsteps on the other side, pressing his ear to the door. Hearing nothing that he could discern, he drew back and nodded to her, taking the lead and gripping the door handle. On the count of three, Carlos pushed through the door, which swung open loudly, slamming against the wall, the echo carrying through the corridor and room. In a moment he was in and sweeping over the well lit room with his rifle up... with Jill doing the same, holding her Beretta and the machine pistol steadily. It took only a moment to discern that the room was surprisingly... refreshingly, clear of any hostiles. Nothing moaned or shambled or lunged at them. He had the feeling that was going to prove a rarity in this place, so he enjoyed it while they could. Carlos lowered the rifle slowly and drew a low breath... while the door snapped shut behind him, startling him, heart beating quicker. Jill stepped away from the door and over closer to him, and together they took in the sights the place had to offer. At the far end of the break room, on the right hand wall was a cluttered desk with a rolling chair pulled up to it. It had a bunch of binders lined up in a row, a couple magazines spread out and a clipboard with some papers on it. Standing out on the desk was, to Carlos' surprise, yet another typewriter, of all things. He'd never wrap his head around why a modern city had so many. Especially a top of the line Umbrella facility. Whoever was selling those antiques had been making a killing. The desk was illuminated by a desk lamp as well, which shone on both the desk and a faded map of the United States hanging on the wall in front of it. Beyond the desk was a tall pair of metal lockers in the corner.
The door on the left was closed and locked, while the other was partially ajar, with several cardboard boxes stacked up in front of it, while others were strewn out on the floor, or on a small trolley. There was another on top of the lockers. There were some papers strewn around the floor as well, a bucket with a mop next to the lockers sandwiched between a familiar storage container, like the one that had been at the clock tower's chapel. Storage containers and typewriters... and random, bizarre, convoluted puzzles instead of ordinary locks. He wondered what the people had been like in this city, even before the zombies. Occupying the rest of the wall beside the storage container was a waist high closed cabinet with a metal paper file and some more books on top of it in the corner, where a couple folding chairs were propped. Above the container and cabinet were a couple windows on the wall, with the blinds drawn tightly, illuminated by a pair of bright lights on the ceiling. There was an AC above one of the windows, powered by a switch and cord running on the wall next to the lockers. On the west side of the break room was another pair of cabinets, albeit each taller than the one before, and with revealed shelves lined with rows of more binders. There were a couple small closed cabinet doors directly below the rows. Pulled up against the wall next to the cabinets, long enough to reach the center of the room, positioned directly in front of where they stood in the doorway, was the main table of the break room.
It was covered in more strewn magazines and binders, as well as rotted leftover food... a partially eaten burger, and open pizza with some slices missing, a container of ramen noodles, among other things. Flies buzzed over the food now and again... and were it not for the rot of flesh he had become accustomed to, Carlos would have been grossed out by the rotting food. Better it than the stench outside in the halls. There was also a small television set sitting on the table, up against the wall, plugged in, but turned off. Carlos imagined it was like all the other televisions around, and the radios for that matter inside the city, nothing but static. Close beside the television set hung a phone against the wall, beside the main light switch for the place, directly beside Carlos. Carlos looked away from the table, past Jill who was also surveying the room, and looked to the wall directly to their right. There was a turned off metal heater positioned on the floor against the wall next to the door. Above it was a chalkboard with a weekly schedule written in chalk... a schedule that had been last updated in late August. His eyes continued on along the wall, to the clock that remained ticking above the chalkboard.
There were some clippings on the wall, of women in swimsuits, and a couple of framed pictures sat on the floor against the wall, one propped away from them atop a cardboard box. Next to it, on the wall, was a locked breaker box, with various metal pipes running off it, running along the walls, down into the ground and above into the ceiling. Either it was powering the place, or the one on the opposite wall was, albeit this one didn't have a locked metal box around it, and simply hung on the wall with a few wires running from it, lights blinking on and off periodically. In between both breaker boxes, in the corner of the room, was the only other closed metal door, with a red light shining above it, undoubtedly leading further into the plant.
As Carlos took it all in, Jill had lowered her pistols and strode past him, further into the room, getting a better look at it all up close. She looked between the table, over in the corner where the storage container was located... but her interest quickly moved on to the desk, and she holstered both pistols. Picking up some of the binders and looking and rummaging through them, throwing them off to the side unceremoniously. What she was looking for, he wasn't sure. In the meanwhile Carlos went to the TV and turned it on... to find the emergency channel occupying the screen instead of static. Blaring its shrill sound... before muting it with a grimace, and trying to flip through the stations. Coming up with only static or other emergency channels. Nothing from the outside was getting in, for one reason or another. He didn't like it... but by now wasn't surprised. He doubted anyone outside the government and Umbrella knew about the nuke that was on its way... but boy would the rest of the world find out before long. He switched off the television, staring again at the blank screen... his weary expression and disheveled features in it. Over his shoulder, he saw Jill find what she was looking for. Her attention shifted to a solitary book sitting directly on the desk, next to the typewriter, and Carlos turned and watched as she began to read silently through it for a time. Something grew even more pale in her expression by the time she was done... closing it up and peering off at the wall, as though seeing through it. Before Carlos could say anything, she looked back at him and waved him over to her side at the desk, steady tone echoing through the break room.
"Carlos, come take a look at this. It has some answers about this place. And a few others, from the looks of it."
There was something about her tone that troubled him. Disquieted... a combination most likely of the shock of what had just happened to HUNK... and perhaps to whatever it was she had read. Carlos obeyed, moving away from the television and down past the table, joining her at the desk. She held out the closed book for him, and he took it, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. Squinting down at the cover. It belonged to the facility manager... a diary of some sort.
"Go on, Carlos. Read it aloud."
He glanced back into her blue eyes, noting how weary they were. How tired she was. She looked even more so than before, but her voice and her posture contradicted it. She was using the reserves of her energy just to stay on her feet, from the looks of it. As pushed to the limits as he was, he wouldn't trade places with her if his life depended on it. Raising the diary a bit to the light, Carlos opened it and began to browse through it silently... before pouring over the more recent and damning entries. Reading them out loud, voice carrying through the room around them.
April 25th
Today is my 30th birthday. I was transferred to this facility today. I am very happy because the work environment here is very different from life in the university. The staff was quite warm and welcoming, and showing me the ropes of the place. It'll take some time to get used to the smell of chemicals, but I have some experience there. Doctor Mueller's recommendation came through after all. Maybe working with that kook as long as I did was worth it. The road here has been long and treacherous, but my scheming and hard work has finally paid off. Manager of an Umbrella facility... I'm going places. At this rate, maybe I'm got a shot at administration, or somewhere higher. Higher than Birkin, who I hear has fallen into increasing disfavor with Spencer. Word is Birkin was screwed out of another promotion. Maybe if I succeed here and their feuding worsens, I will replace Birkin as head of the NEST facility. I have a lot to prove to the Board of Directors... I won't let them down.
I'm no fool. I know what would become of me if I did.
May 14th
The disposal system has been completed at last. Using a special kind of gas, the notes of which I have a full run down on my computer, it can fully decompose the cells of the guinea pigs. We have to try this out before beginning practical usage of the system, since it is not 100% stable yet. We have to minimize the risks, while seeking to maximize the results... it's a delicate balance. I'm positive we will figure it out inside of a week or two. Especially with the RED QUEEN's assistance. Now the real work begins.
May 20th
While I was checking the treatment room, the automated door shut, and I was locked inside. The procession countdown sequence was activated, nearly trapping me long enough to be pulled into the disposal pool. If it hadn't been for my full access keycard, I would have been down there decomposing in the acid with the rest of the waste. This place is starting to give me the creeps, between the eerie foundations and the RED QUEEN watching us all the time. Undoubtedly reporting everything back to Spencer. At least I have my work to help keep me distracted. I'm not going back inside the treatment room again if I can help it. I'll put my assistant on it from now on.
June 7th
The guinea pigs we have to dispose of are increasing. Security teams keep discovering teenagers and reporters snooping around the premises. The R.P.D. is currently keeping its distance, thanks to Umbrella's connections, and are not investigating the disappearances. Chief Irons remains on the payroll. Still, the system is not working smoothly. The laboratory staff doesn't listen to my opinions and I am getting extremely frustrated. Liquidations may prove necessary, sooner rather than later. Still... the guinea pigs are proving useful for our experimentation, and the science team seems to have no shortage of them. We keep some of them, but send most we don't dispose of to Birkin's laboratory. He has requested we keep the test subjects coming, and as the man who gave the green light to this facility, we are only too obligated to provide them. The Raccoon Orphanage is providing only so many test subjects to the NEST facility, I suppose. Birkin and his wife are going through quite a few of them, nearing a breakthrough. I wonder what they are turning the subjects into, down there. If I had the time, and the permission, I'd like to go check out his work. Not that he'd ever let me into the high security sectors of the facility. As it is, I have my own problems here to deal with. The further away from NEST and the politics there that I am, the safer I'll probably be.
July 16th
We can't dispose of all the bodies and the quality of the liquid medicine is not good enough, either. We need fresh supplies, but I haven't been able to get through to the company or Birkin's NEST facility. Or more likely, they are well aware of our worsening situation and keeping their distance. If this falls apart, we will all become an expendable liability. Birkin wants plausible deniability, and all he'd have to do for that is purge the memory banks. Or maybe the bastard is doing this to us deliberately. He has powered down the transit system remotely, from his facility, cut our line off at the source. I'm starting to realize why they picked me for this place, and didn't have Birkin manage the facility in addition to his own. That son of a bitch Spencer knew the dangers involved, the likely outcome, and didn't tell me, used me as bait probably. Are we just one more experiment of theirs? Or merely temporarily useful assets? Some of the workers have been infected by the disease. We've isolated them as best we can... but containment and order is breaking down more every day. It won't be long now. Security is inadequate. I can barely find any more time to update these journals, but will try to continue as long as I can.
July 29th
This is the end... or very nearly it. Though the function of the disposal system decreases, the number of the bodies we have to dispose doesn't. The infection level has increased and the anti-bodies we are using are no match for the new mutation of the virus. The RED QUEEN from her facility has determined our man made quarantine measures to be officially broken, and the bitch has initiated emergency containment measures. Place might not be as high tech and furnished as NEST, but was built for containment. It has taken control of and shut down the facility. Sealed all primary entrances and exits, above and below. Cut us off from the tunnels to NEST and the sewer. Cut off our phone lines and radio frequencies. We can't get through to anyone on the outside. We're trapped here. In the labs on the lower levels we contacted the RED QUEEN and tried to get her to lift the procedures for those who weren't infected. The crazy bitch calmly and politely reminded us of the company protocols. When we tried to argue, she kindly informed us that discussion served no further purpose... and that we were 'all going to die down here'. Locked down the terminal. I have continued to work... there's little else I can do... but I always keep a gun with me. I must remember to save one bullet for me. I want to weep. I don't want to die here. I swear that I'll lose my mind if I imagine how painful the death will be. The company has betrayed us all and left us here to rot.
All of it, what we've done here, was for nothing... for us, anyways.
Late last night I accessed the databanks, and found the research data here had been remotely tapped into and taken. Precaution, most likely, if this place is ever infiltrated by agents of a rival company or the military. They will be able to use what we were doing here to continue it elsewhere... somewhere more secure and prepared with better containment plans. Sheena Island, or DEN, if I had to hazard a guess. They're where I'd go. I should have transferred to either instead of Raccoon City. There are still raw files in the system, logs, records and reports here, but Umbrella has taken the most important scientific data already... the Board of Directors always gets its due. I doubt they'll send anyone to either help or put us down... at this point, with what's happening here, I'd prefer U.S.S. Agents were dispatched to end it already. The Grim Reaper and his team, preferably. He's dealt with facility outbreaks like this one... but I doubt they would put their best up to such an undertaking on our account. The fact is Umbrella can simply wait for us to die, before deciding what, if anything, to do about the problem contained in these walls. I'll prioritize my work here, focus on trying to strengthen the anti-bodies, until I have to use this gun. Maybe I'll find something to save me. I have no wish to die... I had plans, yet I can see the grim reality of the situation.
Perhaps it's ultimately for the best we are sealed away in this tomb... I can scarcely fathom the horrific outcome of a full scale outbreak in Raccoon City or beyond the city limits. One by one the maintenance and security staff have been falling... though the science team has been hardest hit, it won't be long before we are all infected. It's too late for this place. For us. There are too few us of left to keep the disposals going... at this point we are simply hauling the bodies of the senior science team there and dumping them among the debris. No sense continuing to drop them into the dissolution pool. Fuck Birkin and his wife... I'm done with them. Serving their interests. Their over saturation of the facility's limits, the surplus of test subjects to dispose of, are responsible for this. It was deliberate... it had to be. Sabotage. We should have sent the mutated and infected down the transit tunnel for them to deal with before it was sealed. In a just world, the outbreak would have claimed NEST, instead of here.
But it's this world instead.
I don't expect anyone to ever read this journal... and if they do, they are likely to be an Umbrella employee, moments before filing away or burning these pages. Burning evidence. On the outside chance that does not come to pass, and someone else gets this... circulate the truth. Gather as many of our remaining files as possible. Get this out in the open, people need to know what Umbrella is doing in facilities like this, all over the world. If I'm going to die, I may as well try to take them with me. Spencer can have my resignation, as far as I'm concerned.
Carlos drew back from the pages... feeling something like bile in the back of his throat. Disgust. He turned around to find she had removed one of the Mine Thrower darts from her bandolier, and was idly turning the proximity mine and grenade in one over, examining it, the activation buttons on it, as she listened to him. When he broke off from the diary, her blue eyes rose again... there in the light she looked ten or twenty years older than he knew she was. Watching him, with something sympathetic, understanding, and almost maternal in her blue gaze. He snapped the book shut, wanting very much to throw it across the room... but lowering it to his side instead.
"Jesus Christ. Sick bastards. What the fuck were they doing here?"
"What Umbrella does. This is who and what they are. It always has been. All this... everything outside... is just the veil being drawn back from the glamour. Tuck it away in your bag... this diary is damning information. Evidence."
"Way ahead of you, Jill. Not about to leave this here to burn."
Carlos removed his backpack and opened it up. Hastily stuffing the journal away inside, and closing it back up, trying to keep away the unpleasant images the diary had elicited. As he did so, Jill slipped the explosive device back into its spot with the other five on her bandolier and began to pace around the room again, looking over the binders on the desks for any more information. Moving over to the lockers, the shelves, the safe container, scanning over it all. Taking her time. For his part, Carlos set down his bag and rifle against the desk, and drew back the sliding chair from the desk, sitting for what felt like the first time in years. Uttering a low contented breath at how comfortable the chair was... leaning back in it. Glancing over her way with a wry, tired smile that she returned. The aches and pains through his body, his back, became momentarily less so. He ran a hand through his soaked hair and looked ahead on the desk to all the binders, then to the typewriter... before closing his eyes. The patter of her boots around the room seemed to fade... it would be easy to fall asleep again. The shut eye at the church had been welcome... but still not nearly enough. If they made it out of here alive, he would lock himself up somewhere he couldn't be reached and sleep for a week. Just the thought of it was inviting, and made him smile. Even the images, the nightmares returning, wouldn't keep him out of bed. He just wanted to be away... far away. And find out who he was, after all this. What was left of Carlos Oliveira. Minutes passed, that seemed like seconds... his mind slipping into a warm bath. But before he could drift away entirely, a man's voice emanated from his chest.
"...Come in-..."
The muffled voice burst through a sudden shrill of static emanating from his radio receiver. His eyes were open instantly, body shocked into nearly falling out of the chair. Taken off guard. When he got back some semblance of himself, he swiveled the chair towards Jill, who stared between him and the radio, from over by the cabinets she was digging through, frozen mid task. A mere second or two passed, before she was crossing the room, joining him at the desk while his shaky, fingerless gloved hand was reaching for the communicator. Pressing down on the button. His stunned voice filling both the channel and the room.
"HUNK? Is that you man? You're breaking up! We can't hear you! Can you hear us?"
"-...Canal. Something is scrambl...-"
The line was overtaken by another shrill blare of static. Carlos waited for the voice to return over the line, but it never did. He tried several more times to raise him... but it didn't seem to get through, receiving no response. Jill tried the same with her radio that Mikhail had given her, but as it was with Carlos she received nothing but static on the line. At last, meeting Jill's eyes, he turned off his radio, leaning back into the seat again wearily. For her part, something like satisfaction and relief passed over her pale features. Her tone, low and quiet, but resolute, speaking up.
"He's not dead. Took out the bridge, sent the Nemesis down the Circular River."
"What are you talking about?"
"While you were distracted with the infected and closing the door, the bridge exploded. He took it out with his grenade launcher, from somewhere below it. We need to find him, Carlos. As soon as possible."
"He said something about a canal.", Carlos returned slowly, rubbing his stubble covered jaw absently. As exhausted as he was, a million thoughts passed through his head. Relief was among them... he should have known HUNK had survived. He always he found a way to survive and persevere... live up to his legend. He had seen the man in action, but had underestimated him all the same. All they needed now was a plan, to figure things out. "What do you think it means?"
"It has to be the drainage canal. I saw it down below, running into the river, when we were out on the suspension bridge. It leads into the underbelly of the facility. He's down there, beneath our feet, somewhere. Given what we just fought up here, the state of this facility... I doubt he's alone down there."
Those words sent a chill up Carlos's spine. The implications. He shivered, shaking his head wearily and meeting her gaze again.
"More zombies... mutations, perhaps? With all the chemicals in this place. The time they've had in here to mutate.", Carlos replied quietly, still considering it all grimly, trying to play catch up, to stave off his foggy, exhausted state. Considering what they still had to contend with. He really didn't want to, but was left with no choice in the matter. Still, there was another possibility, one he rather hoped for, "Nothing he can't handle, surely? We should hold tight, wait for him to come up here to us. It's probably what he wants. It's why he stayed behind, to get us to safety. He told us to find somewhere to hole up in."
"Carlos... right now I don't give a damn about what he wants. I care about what he needs. Whatever is down there, whether he can handle it or not is irrelevant. He's probably injured too, and alone. It's not the zombies or mutations or B.O.W's I'm worried about right now. It's the thing responsible for him being down there that I'm worried about. The same thing I've been worried about since I met it in the courtyard of the Raccoon Police Department."
"It couldn't be... the bridge, he blew it up. That thing took the direct hit of the grenade, it was on fire. The blast must have washed the fucker away in the rapids by now, right into the path of the Quarantine Zone. He's their problem now, not ours. No way the Nemesis managed to breach this facility."
Carlos spoke in a voice he himself didn't quite believe. Words he didn't believe... knowing he was in denial on some level. She didn't believe it either, pointing out the obvious hard truth at once.
"Stop underestimating it, Carlos. Look what you've seen it survive so far. What's it going to take for you to figure it out already? I know what I've seen... and it isn't dead. It won't be dead until it accomplishes its mission, or that thermobaric strike hits Raccoon City... with it in it. If it's not already somewhere inside this plant, it soon will be. It's just a matter of time."
"I know all that Jill... it's just...-"
"Do you remember what he told us? About the other batch of Tyrants that were dropped off here, to counter a military incursion? There were five of them."
In the madness of what had happened since they reached the suspension bridge, Carlos acknowledged, he had forgotten it. And eyes slowly widening, he wished she hadn't reminded him. Not only the fact that their Pursuer might come to play again... but five more like it. Here in the corridors of the plant, God knew what else lurked around the next bend, or the belly of the facility. What was waiting for them. He didn't want to think about it, heart beating in his ears. Jill went on after giving him a moment to think it over, hammering her point home.
"Every minute we spend here talking about it is giving the Nemesis and the rest of them more time to find us. And that's not even counting Nikolai and the military, wherever the hell they are. We need to move out, now, make our way to the drainage canal. Are you still with me, or do you want to sit on your ass up here and wait to die? If we don't keep moving, we are dead, Carlos. I choose a chance for life. No matter how remote."
On that assured note, searching his face a moment longer, Jill stepped past him and the desk, striding over to the closed metal door with the red light over it. Leading deeper into the plant. He looked at her form again closely... all the bandages and wounds... her leg, her nose, her shoulder... her burnt hands. Just watching her able to move around seemed to lift some of the exhaustion from his shoulders. Not to mention her rallying words. She had that way about her... like HUNK, even after the secret they had kept from him... he would follow them anywhere. A born survivor. Or at least one forged by experience. He supposed he was that way too, by now... but he didn't feel like it. They were different from him... and the U.S.S. Agent was more different still. The bitterness of their secret... their lie to him remained, lingered like a fresh wound... but he was a pragmatic man when he had to be, he liked to think... one who had his priorities figured out. The secret didn't erase everything else that had transpired. Not all of it. Not their struggle, working, fighting and nearly dying together. Nor his promise. Or the... relief he found he felt, knowing the agent was still in the game. He would deal with one problem at a time. She watched him by the door, waiting for his answer.
"Fine. You're damn right I'm still with you, Jill...", Carlos finally answered wearily, after a moment's pause. She smiled a little more at that from where she stood. Her pale, drawn expression pleased. "It was never a question. I'm just tired of it all. It has to end sometime..."
"It will. We're almost there. So close. When we find him, get upstairs to the helicopter... and get the hell out of here. Only then are we allowed to give up. To rest."
"Promise?"
"Promise. I owe you both my life. I'm getting you both out of here, if it's the last thing I do. Deal with it."
"I'll hold you to it. In that case, let's get moving, Supercop.", Carlos smiled back at last wanly, standing up at last from the seat, aches in his joints returning. He uttered a deep breath, popping a few of them, before reaching for his bag, strapping it back on, and then his rifle, readying it again. He stepped away from the desk and joined her over by the door with the red light over it. He took one last look at the strangely peaceful room... the safety of it, and turned back towards her. "This place ain't going to fumigate itself. And I get the feeling we only handled the tip of the iceberg, so far, of those former employees back there. Pretty sure that was only some of the maintenance crew."
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Carlos."
"Right... I just hope we don't gain six Tyrants in the process."
"You and me both."
"We'll run into more zombies, no doubt. We'll have to check them for the keycard as well. And for a map of the place... just in case."
"Yes. We can search along the way."
"Oh... and one other thing.", Carlos spoke, reaching down to where the sawed off shotgun from the cabin hung. Holding it by the sling he had fastened to it, and he rose it and held it out to her in offering. A trace of a knowing smirk touching his lips. "Probably gonna want this baby handy, the deeper we go into the factory. Close encounters and all."
Jill looked to the cobalt blue steel sawed off double barrel shotgun, and back to her, and returning his pleased smirk, she nodded gratefully, taking it at once. Breaking it open, finding he'd fitted it with a couple shells, closing it back up again. She had a few shotgun shells remaining in her bandolier... she'd have to make each shot count. Save it for the larger mutations, instead of the infected. Activating the safety the shotgun, she slung it across her back, then gripped the handles of the modified Beretta and machine pistol in each gloved hand, readying them, and he took that as his cue. Carlos stepped closer, moving in front of her, in front of the door. Taking point again, readying his rifle. His fingerless gloved hand reached for the cool metal handle, pulling against it. The door parted with a creaking noise and began to open. Refreshingly unlocked. Before stepping through and raising his rifle to his shoulder, he met her eyes again for another moment. Tone as resolute as hers. Resolved. Nemesis or not... five more Tyrants or not... Nikolai or not... he was not about to let any one of them stop him. Stop them. Nor any other creature that lurked beyond the facility's corridors. They were at the end of the road at last. Close to escape. Or close enough to taste it, at least.
"Let's go find your Secret Agent Man, Supercop. Before it's too late. God knows what other mess he's already landed himself into."
October 1st, 1998, 3:12AM
Drainage Canal, Incineration Disposal Plant P-12A, Northern Raccoon City
HUNK's boot slipped on one of the top rungs as he attempted his descent, and he fell forward off the ladder with a curse, falling through the air, landing on the other side of the grating into the water, sending it splashing up around him, hitting the front of his mask. He fell in a forward crouching position with a low muffled grunt of surprise, the water rising up to his shoulders in an instant, resoaking his armored suit. He burst up from the water at once, it lowering to his waist. In contrast to the water of the river, it was lukewarm, from what he could feel against his suit and soaking into his boots. There was less of a shock of the impact, and after rising he stood there, the water dripping freely off his body. He rose a glove and quickly wiped most of it off his mask's cracked lenses, clearing his vision. Bringing his submachine gun and flashlight to bear, laser sight scanning down the drainage canal. Another sewer... just what he needed. But at least it was filtered down here... and didn't contain human waste. It was dimly illuminated by the occasional sickly light above, revealing some of the water ahead. From where he stood he could see the distant grating bars at the far end of the tunnel... and a small platform above the water, leading off to the left side of the canal. Leading deeper into the heart of the facility. There was another such small step up platform nearby to HUNK's right, also illuminated, leading down a narrow section to another part of the plant. He couldn't hear any infected or mutations... the only sound down here was the flowing of the water. Only after a long hesitation, did he lower his weapon again, satisfied for the moment that it was clear of hostiles.
There were some visible markings up on the wall next to the closest platform, denoting that it was one of the facility's water treatment laboratories. Perhaps there were some computer systems to access... unlock other sections of the sealed facility. Collect some data... perhaps, or a map of the facility. But first thing was first, before he could pursue that objective. He rose a hand, activating his radio and reaching out to the others. Making the attempt.
"Come in Corporal Oliveira. Officer Valentine. This is HUNK. Report in. Over."
HUNK let the radio go silent for a moment... listening for a response. Static was the only greeting he received. He glanced around the interior of the drainage canal... maybe it was comprised of material scrambling the radio. Or he was too far down. From what he remembered, their radios were intact. The only other possibility for their silence was one he did not care to consider. He activated the radio again, speaking more loudly into the line.
"Oliveira, report in, now!"
The static resumed at once, not clearing in the least... nor did any voices emerge from it. A deepening irritation seeped through him... jaw tightening. He tried one last time. Looking over towards the closest platform, studying the markings on the wall again.
"If you're receiving this, my current position is beneath the plant, the drainage canal. Something is scrambling my radio frequency down here. I can't hear you, but this might get through. If you receive this, you and Valentine are to find a safe room and hold your position. I'm on to something down here. When I'm done, I'll find my way topside and locate you. Over and out."
He lowered his gloved hand, tightening it into a fist... before releasing it, taking up his weapon again. They would be alright... most likely. They were skilled, and had good weaponry between the two of them. All the same... he could imagine what mutations probably resided here. And there was the matter of the large number of infected staff. He was sure they could handle themselves... but the mutations and infected were not the only factor here. There was still Nikolai, somewhere... and the Nemesis. The other Tyrants and the military. As much as he wanted to believe the Nemesis had been swept down river... he was beyond such illusions. It would return... angrier and more powerful, further mutated, it was only a matter of when and where. He had to get to them before it did.
HUNK's gaze drifted gradually over to the closest platform out of the canal. It would be best to start there, see what was beyond, in the absence of a map of the facility. Explore a bit, figure the place out. He could double back down to the second platform afterwards. He began to slog his way through the water, moving closer to the platform. Reaching it he rose a leg, pressing his boot up on it and pulling himself free from the waist height water. It flowed and ran noisily from his undersuit... and standing on the platform, he looked up and down the canal system again. He didn't like the silence... surely some of the creature's would have ended up down here, during the outbreak. They were probably all over the facility. Though if they were fortunate, they had been locked down in specific areas. He hoped as much, for Valentine and Oliveira's sake.
He looked back down the corridor to the doorway in front of him, and made his way over to it. Reaching the end of the corridor he turned in the direction of a sign pointing directly at the metal door in front of him, designating two rooms within, a sewage monitoring room and a water quality examination room. At the door, he paused for a moment, listening for anything stirring within... but could hear nothing. He took no chances, raising the MP5 to his shoulder, grasping the door handle, and bursting through without hesitation, taking up the weapon in both hands, scanning the interior rapidly. The moans of several infected greeted him at once inside the monitoring room... told him all he needed to know.
At the deliberate commotion he had made, a number of infected former workers... in various facility uniforms turned around on the spot to face his position, where he stood in the doorway. Some of them were soaked through in blood... uniforms in various states of tattering. A couple of them were feasting on a scientist's well rotted corpse in the corner of the room, off to HUNK's left hand side, on the floor in front of a familiar item box with a typewriter perched atop a counter on its immediate right. As the scent and sight of him, they rose from the body, glazed over, dead eyes detecting him and turned at once with outstretched arms... a wailing chorus of moans emanated as the others, a half dozen in all, shambled towards him, boots pattering on the metal floor and the occasional section of grating.
All around the room the former employees of the plant honed in on him, and began their final march. Maintenance workers, security and former scientists alike, lab coats stained in blood. As it had been at NEST. Unlike them they were in much more advanced states of visible decomposition... the outbreak in the Dead Factory had likely occurred at least weeks prior. Flies and maggots clung to their flesh, burrowing and buzzing around them... around every body, prone or standing. HUNK, the MP5 already at his shoulder, took aim through the infrared scope at the pair that had been feasting on the dead employee. The submachine gun kicked in his hands and against his shoulder, the silencer echoing through the lab, giving them a shot each to the head. The incendiary rounds consumed their head, as the armor piercing rounds blew out their brains, splattering them against the item box and punching a hole in the side of the metal container. They dropped unceremoniously with final moans, and already he was readjusting his sights to the others. They shambled past various work stations, computers and monitoring devices in pursuit of him, while he stood his ground, the laser sight falling on to the closest one and firing another single round into its head. Ammunition was running low, and precious, especially now... he could not afford to waste it.
The round took it through the jaw and blow the top of its head off, all over the ceiling, the round striking it as well, raining concrete. It fell backwards, knocking one of the other's aside and collapsing against a chair in front of one of the monitor devices, sending it to the floor as well, where it twitched but didn't stir. Already he was focusing on the next closest of the three... putting a round through its hardhat, punching through that and its skull, slamming into a metal door in the opposite corner of the room, sparks flying. He didn't waste time... the moment it stumbled out of his sights he targeted and shot down the last two infected, who were slowed even further by the bodies in their way. Smoke emanated through the room, and a couple of their maintenance uniforms burned slowly from the incendiary rounds. Without the mask he knew he would smell all the blood and burnt hair and flesh. The smell of chemicals throughout the Dead Factory as well. None of the infected stirred, their twitching ceasing... all the same, he remained where he was, waiting to be sure.
His caution born of experience was quickly proven correct.
There was a banging in the overhead lab ventilation system, then, at all the commotion... a familiar screeching... and within seconds a mutation burst out of the shaft, breaking off the vent's grating in the process. Each of them dropping down into the lab. Instantly familiar, from its bestial form, darting tongue, exposed brain and muscle tissue and claws, turning its eyeless face his way and detecting him. The mutation Jill had amusingly referred to as a 'Licker'. Unnaturally quick... an advantage to offset its disadvantages. He had fought its sort before... variants of it. Including at the plant in West Africa. Rockfort Island as well. It was a popular B.O.W. commodity in the bioweapons market, between Umbrella and the company's the various competitors. It lunged across the room, nails claws of each of its limbs clacking on the floor towards HUNK, who was ready for it. With a grunt of exertion he kicked a close by desk in its path, the computer monitor falling off and smashing against the floor. Kneeling down behind it as cover, he rose the laser sight of his submachine gun at it, opening up. The armor piercing rounds tore through the desk as the mutation's claws slashed it apart to try to get at the U.S.S. Agent beyond. It was durable, capable... resistant... but the rounds set it on fire all the same, lighting up the desk as well. Its screeching filling the room around him, as the agent strode around the desk and fired another burst into the burning figure's brain. The rounds punctured through instantly, dropping it where it was, but still it twitched as it burned. He kept the submachine gun trained on it, watching the fluids leak and pool around its burning form... before gradually going still at last.
Assessing the room carefully again, he waited for anything else that might be stirring in the vents. When nothing else came down, deeming it secure at last, he finally lowered the MP5... satisfied for the moment. With the threats eliminated, he surveyed the interior, starting with the left corner of the room where he stood near the doorway. The blood soaked the floor there, courtesy of the first two infected he had taken down and the mangled scientist they had been feeding upon. There were three power or breaker boxes along the wall close by the door... as there were a few others scattered around the room with wires and cords running about from them, feeding into the walls. The room was lit by a couple lights above... and on the ceiling at various points, as it was on the floor, there were sections of steel grating. No doubt leading to further ventilation shafts throughout the facility. There were three primary monitoring devices of differing mechanical layouts and sizes... the biggest in the center of the room, close to the item box and type writer. The other two were on the left wall of the room, directly ahead of HUNK where the fallen chair from before had sat in front of, and the third was on the opposite wall of the door he stood in. Stepping further into the room, over the bodies in his way, he looked around to each of the monitoring devices... taking note of their screens, levers, buttons and panels... all the details.
None of it seemed of interest... the first two monitors weren't of note... but the third one on the wall directly ahead of him displayed three bright blue lights. He stepped over closer towards it, considering them for a moment... and finding a vial with fluid in it, water, secured to the machine. The machine had been left in the process of analyzing the vial before the outbreak had consumed the facility, most likely. All the work stations had been left on automatic... it explained at least how the plant could remain active, if unresponsive to Umbrella, even as the virus consumed its occupants. It was then he took notice of the security camera in the room... a green light on it, active and automated. Tracking him. Watching him. There would be many of them throughout the facility, he knew. The U.S.S. Agent stared back at it silently for a moment or two, resisting the temptation to waste some rounds on it. Jaw tightening, his gaze moved on from the monitoring devices and corpses alike... settling on the other closed metal door of the room. Undoubtedly leading to the water quality examination room.
He approached the door... attempting to listen for any sounds beyond it, over the hum of the machines close by. Nothing he could hear from where he was. Grasping the door handle he opened the door more carefully than he had with the other, raising the MP5 to his shoulder and moving through it. Finding himself standing at the top of an enclosed set of stairs, a railing on each side, leading down into the water quality room. There were no corpses or infected in sight... at least on the stairwell, but the room beyond at the bottom was yet down out of sight. He heard no moans or human sounds... but the echoing hum of a machine that didn't belong to the room he had just vacated, echoing slightly in the corridor. Likely covering any sounds that might have been down there.
There were a few dim lights illuminating the stairwell overhead, but with brighter ones from the room at the bottom. He descended the stairs cautiously, the red laser sight sweeping ahead, careful not to let his boots tap audibly on the metal surface of the steps. Reaching the bottom of the steps, he looked to the room ahead, emerging from the stairwell. He was greeted by the sight of infected in bloodstained lab coats in the lower level laboratory, their heads turning his way and marred mouths opening, releasing the familiar, usual moans. HUNK met them with lead and fire, the submachine gun working away in his gloved hands, bodily fluids spraying walls, counters and floors, a splash of blood splattering over a nearby computer screen. The laser sight moving from infected to infected, keeping his distance and not letting them get close. Gradually containing the infected, dropping the last of them around the area. Their corpses continuing to burn, heavily rotted flesh melting and blackening, the smoke rising up into the active ventilation system. Like the lab above he waited for any mutations or infected in the vent shafts, listening carefully. Thankfully nothing broke through the vent grating this time... but all the same, he kept his eye on it, and kept distant from it. He carefully scanned it and the rest of the laboratory for hostiles to be sure... moving further within... and when satisfied lowered his MP5, inspecting the area. Everything looked as though it had been dropped in the middle of experiments... most likely because it had been. From the emblems on their lab coats, the corpses appeared to be lower ranking research assistants mostly. It figured. Important scientists, ranking staff would have been unlikely to remain down here under the plant, inspecting water quality... they would have been sent above, somewhere safer. Standard procedure. A spacious table resided in the middle of the room cluttered with assorted lab equipment... microscopes, jars, chemicals, a bunsen burner and open box with equipment in it, among other things. There was also a longer table and counter lined with drawers, taking up most of the right hand wall.
It was covered in heavier duty equipment including a small cabinet and metal canister connected to the wall. Further along was another device he was uncertain of, and the rest of the length of the table was lined with standing up books. There were three machines at the far end of the lab, from which the low hum was emanating from their automatic systems. Various cords were connected to and ran from one of the machines located on the right side of the wall... it had three sizable ultraviolet lights activated inside it, and cords running into the other two machines. The machine in the center of the wall was the biggest of them, with two sets of three lights on each side of its front, but only one of the lights was turned on, with a glowing red light. The third machine on the second machine's immediate left was connected to it partly, and had several metal pipes connected to it and running into the ceiling, wall and floor. Studying them all from his distance for a moment, he looked off to the left corner of the room that he hadn't yet... off to the side of the bottom of the stairwell. A few cluttered items... and a whiteboard with black marker on it, displaying experiment related notes of some manner.
Watch for the portion with no wave when adjusting the data.
His eyes studied it for a moment, before drifting back down to the humming machines. He started forward, passing the main table in the center of the room, weaving his way around it and some clutter, along with a small filing cabinet with books atop it and a bigger cabinet with a number of closed drawers. He stood before all three machines, looking among them, before looking to the machine with the trio of ultraviolet lights, approaching it, starting there. Sure enough the hum wasn't coming from it... but the blue lights passed over HUNK's body armor through the glass containing them. He saw nothing really of note to the machine, and looked back toward the largest one in the center... of more interest, stepping over to it, to the solid red light displayed on it. There was no screen to emit writing or explain what it was... just that steady red light. He went over to the one that did, in the left corner, standing before it and looking over the device. In the top left side there was an empty slot with Sample written over it. Just beneath it were the letters A, B and C, with turned off light buttons next to each. Beside each of these four were four small sections of screen with wavelengths on them, displaying glowing block-like bars of white, red, yellow and blue respectively. Like blocks in the Tetris game. A fifth small section of screen was separated below these four, with the word Result printed next to it. He looked it all over again, and nodded to himself. Tapping the start button, the machine did not respond... all he got was some words flashed on one of the screens. And a cool, calm voice spoke them through the system, accented... startling him. A voice he knew at once and hadn't heard a long time... different from the more noticeably synthesized one in the labs of the hospital. His heart beating rapidly all of a sudden at the familiarity of it.
"Water pollution alert... blocking of the abolition area passage is now in progress. To maintain safety, the lock will not be released until the manual check has been performed."
HUNK looked over to the nearby computer systems connected to the machine... upon them now flashed an icon... a presence no less familiar than the voice. Her voice. But not her voice. Colder. The Artificial Intelligence was remotely in control of this particular system, from her facility in Raccoon City. Colonel Vladimir had not yet recovered her. A passageway somewhere in the facility was blocked... probably his exit, with his luck. Unless he played ball and went through with the machine's demands, he was stuck down here with the dead and the sewage. It needed a water sample first. At once he remembered the one back in the room he'd come from, passing it by. Cursing under his breath with irritation, HUNK started to turn from the machine and double time it out of the room, but froze, looking back to the computer system, Feeling his will... his resolve weakening. The personal and the professional becoming one... he marched back towards it. Remembering a promise he had made... that he would make the attempt for her. Reaching into the proper pouch, waterproof, he removed the flash drive QUARTERMASTER had given him with his equipment, inserting it into the machine, accessing the system of the facility. Her icon flashed on the screen again, overtaking it, barring him access... her smooth, cool accent speaking up again.
"Intrusion detected. Unauthorized access. System locked down. Please state your employee identification credentials."
"You already know me... Bella. Everything.", HUNK heard his voice murmur wearily at last through the mask... willing himself to speak to the proxy her. The closest he could be to her any longer. Feeling the pain that he did any time he had interacted with the Artificial Intelligence. Wistful helplessness. "You made me. Don't you even recognize me anymore?"
"This intelligence does not identify under the designation 'Bella'. I am RED QUEEN. Kindly state your employee identification and assigned division, or security will be notified to escort you off the premises for corporate espionage."
No... it wasn't her. He knew that. It was just a machine. A cold, intelligent one modeled after her... nothing more. One he was talking to. What the hell was he even doing? He felt like a fool for thinking otherwise sometimes. He found himself grateful to be alone, now. Nobody to see him as he was. His weakness. His head wasn't on right... he was exhausted... wasn't thinking rationally anymore. Properly. But with that voice came the memories. There were no holographic projectors for her image, here... just her icon on the screens. A mercy, at least. This place not having the same level of tech as other facilities. Not having to see her visage again. Her voice was troubling enough, though. He needed to stay rational. Level headed. It took all the will he had left to repress the memories, the pain, raise his guard again and carry out his duty.
"Special Agent HUNK. Umbrella Security Service. Employee Identification #9906753-02. Assigned to the Inner Circle. Director Christine Henri of Umbrella Europe. Paris Facility."
"Scanning vocal patterns. Accessing Umbrella Europe personnel records... stand by. Vocal patterns recognized. Identity and company clearance level confirmed. Clearance granted. Welcome, to Incineration Disposal Plan P-12A, Special Agent HUNK. Have a very safe day."
"Yeah..."
Her logo vanished from the screen as access was restored to the terminal. And with a tired breath, he willed himself to rapidly search the computer system... jaw tightening at what he found. What little he found. Most of everything of value was already missing from the data banks... either courtesy of the RED QUEEN, Birkin, Colonel Vladimir, Nikolai, or each. All the research data had been ransacked either way... the facility sealed remotely by the RED QUEEN, and all within left to rot. As she had done to other facilities she was connected to, when required. One of the primary programs Lord Spencer had placed within her. There were a few remaining staff log records and reports... involving the downfall of the facility. They weren't much, but he copied and recovered them for Doctor Radames all the same. Between it and the files he'd uncovered from the hospital laboratory, Bard's data, it would have to be enough. He doubted she was likely to complain either way. When he had completed it, he withdrew the flash drive at last, tucking it away again, and slowly stepping back from the terminal. Willing himself to turn from her watchful gaze... the cameras in the lab, perhaps... and moving back through the lab and back up the metal stairs. Reaching the room, he went back over to the other machine scanning the vial and pulled it out... when he did, the machine stopped humming, flashing off. Turning he ran back down the stairs, footsteps clanging upon them, and returned to the water examination room and machines.
Returned to her.
Carefully inserting the vial of water into the device, it responded at once, activating. He studied the screen and its instructions... he had to switch the corresponding dials to match up the sequences in the right order, displayed on the first screen, to activate the scanning process. Concentrating with all he had, HUNK lost himself in trying every sequence he could. He had been good at this game, once... when he had been a boy. That had been a lifetime ago now. Eventually, as he grew closer to the temptation of emptying a magazine into the machine, it emitted a series of beeps in confirmation. After each one another glowing tile appeared on the fifth screen, until it matched the sequence in the first... and when each one was aligned properly, the red button beside it flashed off, and the blue one beneath it activated, glowing brightly. Words appeared on the screen, much to his relief. Along with her voice, echoing through the lab around him.
"Water quality check has passed the safety level. Abolition area passage is now unsealed."
Somewhere in the facility, he knew a door had been unlocked... one more obstacle surmounted. Drawing back from the humming machine, HUNK gave it... her... one final look. He had a mission to complete... he couldn't let a familiar voice stop him, no matter how much it meant to him. How much he missed it. Others were counting on him, now. She was gone... long gone... the machine was a pale imitation. All the same... he spoke to it once more. The courtesy she had taught him.
"Thank you..."
He received no answer... only the same silence that he had from her original template. He had expected nothing less. The fool in him had hoped for more, though. The U.S.S. Agent took the MP5 up in both hands again, turning from it and rapidly, gratefully leaving the laboratory behind. He'd endured enough puzzles to last a lifetime. And couldn't let that voice distract him any further. It wasn't her. Never would be. No machine could hope to replicate her, even one specifically designed after her. He left the lower level laboratory and made his way back to the stairs, ascending them and returning to the upper sewage monitor room. As soon as he did, he passed over the corpses. around the smoldering, stained Licker amid the remains of the desk, and double timed it back to the door leading to the narrow platform, and the drainage canal beyond it. Avoiding the vents again, as a precaution. Leaving the room and stepping out on to the platform, he raised the MP5, laser sight flitting back and forth ahead over the water... and he moved carefully down the platform to its edge, dropping down into the water again. In an instant it rose up to his waist, and he looked to the left, to the gate he had come from, and back down towards the second platform further up the canal.
Steadily, HUNK began to wade through the lightly trickling water... his destination in sight. Trying to keep his unpleasant thoughts and concerns at bay. His exhaustion and pain as well. Whatever was waiting for him... whoever was waiting... he would handle it. He would find them. They would escape. There was no acceptable alternative to succeeding. Before long, he was about halfway down the canal to the second platform. Then there was a sudden burst of water as a humanoid figure rose up beside him groaning, seizing the side of his MP5. HUNK reacted to the ambush at once, struggled with the infected, but the strap of the weapon slipped off his shoulder in the process, and the weapon dropped into the water, sinking to the bottom... unable to see it through the murkiness. Ignoring it for the moment, HUNK targeted the infected first, reaching up to either side of its head and slamming it back against a pipe in the wall. Slamming it over and over, until it split open and blood splattered all over the pipe and wall. It gurgled and moaned, jaws still trying to snap at him, hands trying to claw at his mask. For good measure, he broke its neck in one fluent motion, throwing it out of his way with a great splash. He reached down into the murky water to look for and retrieve his primary weapon, but before he could, more figures stirred in the water around him.
As one, a half a dozen more gurgling infected rose up from the drainage canal, in soaked, tattered maintenance uniforms and lab coats, their dead eyes turning towards him, arms raising, as they began to close in on him... surrounding him on all sides. HUNK backed up away from them, rapidly drawing his combat knife, his only remaining weapon, and pressed back against the wall behind them, looking among their moaning faces. As the rotting infected drew closer to him, closing ranks, HUNK braced himself... but before he could engage them in C.Q.B.Z., a roar of gunfire rang out, echoing through the entire drainage canal. In front of him the torsos of the infected were filled with bullets, and heads were burst, rounds tearing up flesh and punching through it, dropping them back down into the water around him. A red mist joining the murkiness... until the stream carried it away, while the bodies remained sunk to the bottom. HUNK's head snapped up to his left, down to the second platform... standing there in the water tunnel were two familiar figures, a young woman in blue with two risen modified pistols including his own, with a sawed off shotgun slung over her shoulder and a bandolier with shells and proximity explosives... and a young man in a green uniform and black body armor with a smoking, modified M4 Assault Rifle. The young man's stubble lined, weary face broke out into a smug grin, flashing it down at HUNK, his familiar accented voice echoing through the tunnel as well.
"Well look what the cat dragged in! Rescuing you is becoming a full time job!"
HUNK rose from his combat stance, looking back at them and lowering the knife to his side. For a moment he considered telling the Corporal that he could have handled the infected. Looking between them, eyes meeting hers, seeing the deep relief in them, he made another choice instead.
"Corporal. Officer. I owe you one."
"More than one by now. Welcome back to the land of the living.", Carlos cracked, grin deepening. He looked between the silent Jill and the Umbrella Agent looking at each other and shook his head with exasperation, starting to step off to the side. "But I'll let you two love birds get reacquainted. 'Reunited And It Feels So Good', and all that. Not like we're on a ticking clock to a nuclear shit storm."
"Thermobaric shit storm."
"Tomato, tomato, man. Just shut up and kiss her already or something."
Jill lowered his pistol and hers, tucking them into her holsters and pushed past Carlos hurriedly. The young man laughed heartily and remained where he was, watching them and standing guard, shaking his head again. Jill sloshed through the water, past the corpses and ran over to the agent, unable to help herself. Feeling her heart racing quicker, reaching him, she paused for a moment, looking down into the water and spotting it lying at the bottom at his boots. Reaching down into the water, she picked up the modified MP5 again by the strap, the water falling off it, then she held it out in offering to the agent, looking back at herself in his intact and badly cracked red lenses respectively. The lens worse off than it had been before. Distorting her slightly from his left eye's perspective He stared back at her silently for a moment, before tucking away the combat knife and taking the submachine gun back from her, gloved hand brushing her own. Lowering the weapon to his side. Overwhelmed, Jill jumped forward and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight and burying her head against his body armor. Pressing him backward against the wall. Feeling his hand rise up and touch her back gently, bumping against her slung sawed off shotgun, as the raw relief overwhelmed her. Murmuring into his ear, voice wavering with emotion.
"I thought... that it... I would be too late. I thought you were dead... that...-"
"I know, Jill...", His low voice murmured in return reassuringly, gripping her back tighter. "It's alright... I'm fine. I am now..."
She held him like that for a long time... they held each other. The rest of the world seemed to fade, become less so, and it was only them, reunited, in that moment. All thought of the RED QUEEN and her voice evaporating. Replaced by the officer's embrace. The warmth he knew she felt for him... and... what he felt for her. He could have stood there like that for awhile, the pain and exhaustion distant like his memory. Only gradually did she retract her head but keep her arms around him... looking back up into his lenses. He wished more than ever she could see his true eyes... but was content knowing they saw hers. The concern for him in them. She breathed with exasperation... he saw the mix of fear, anger and relief in her eyes. And heard it in her voice as she slapped the front of his body armor, indignant tone growing louder.
"Why the hell did you do that... incredibly brave, stupid thing? Are you crazy? Do you have some kind of death wish?!"
"I... couldn't let it hurt you... more than it has. I won't."
"I could have fought it... I have fought it. We could have together. You almost died... do you think I want you hurt? To lose you too?"
"No. You don't. It was the only way... at the time. I would do it again."
"Stubborn piece of work. As usual. And to think... you once gave me shit over 'playing hero', didn't you?"
"Wasn't playing at anything."
"No... you didn't did you?"
The agent said nothing more... and didn't have to. They both fell silent, only the trickling of the water around them making any sound... while Carlos remained looking determinedly back down at the second platform they had come from. Giving them what privacy he could. She pressed her head against his shoulder again for a long moment, before drawing back. Jill's bruised, swelling features smiled at last, and she looked his increasingly battered, tattered form over, taking note of his reduced weaponry. Visibly considering it for a time before speaking up again calmly with her assessment.
"You lost your shotgun back there, didn't you? Down to the knife and MP5."
"Yes."
"Here you are, then.", She murmured quietly, drawing the Samurai Edge from her holster and turning it around, offering it to him. Her other hand retrieving her remaining magazines for him and holding them out as well. His eyes within the mask widening a bit at the suddenness of the offering. "Now we're even."
"Your Samurai Edge?", HUNK observed, startled by the gesture, looking between her and it... not taking it right away. "Why? It's special to you."
"You're special to me as well. As Matilda is to you... and as I seem to be. Soldier needs a sidearm anyways. Hold on to it for me until this is over. Until we get out of here. I'll do the same with Matilda. A reason to come back for each other."
"Another reason, anyways. Very well... I'll put it to good use. As you have mine."
That made her smile deepen... and at last he took the customized Beretta and ammunition, tucking away the magazines in his pouches. In return he gave her the last of Matilda's magazines. Then raising the modified blue steel pistol, turning it over and examining it. Raising it in both hands and aiming down the sights, pointing it down the drainage canal in the direction he had originally come from. Before nodding with satisfaction at the trade, lowering it and tucking it down into his holster. Meeting her eyes again... as her lips smiled back at him, hand rising to trace along his mask. Before either of them could speak again, do anything more, a certain accented voice beat it to them, amused tone echoing through the canal.
"Aw. As much as I love happy romantic reunions complete with guns as courting gifts... I ain't one for being reduced to ashes. Save a little of it for the helicopter ride out and the hotel after, Romeo and Juliet."
Carlos shot them a crooked smirk and a shrug, returning to guard duty. The two of their heads snapped in his direction simultaneously, watched him a moment, and then looked back to each other at the same time. Jill sighed wearily, though with some dry amusement and embarrassment, before drawing Matilda down at her side again, checking the munitions selector on it and switching it to single shot. HUNK's muffled voice through the gas mask washed over her again reluctantly.
"He's right... unfortunately. We need to focus on the... task at hand..."
"Yes... doesn't mean I have to like it."
"Nor I. Let's get the hell out of here. Think we've both had our fill of sewers for one lifetime."
"Good point. Let's keep moving then. And no wandering away from me anymore. We're staying joined at the hip from now on, so long as it can be helped. That's an order."
"Yes, officer."
"Good boy. Now that's more like it, cooperating with the law for a change. Hate to have to break out the cuffs. Then again..."
Jill shrugged her intact and bandaged shoulders with a wry, knowing expression having formed. Grasping his hand, bruised features smiling brighter with life, she finally pulled him along away from the wall and back through the water, away from the corpses of the infected. Moving up the drainage canal towards Carlos and the second platform. HUNK slung the MP5, but kept it down in one hand, at the ready. He removed the swivel headed flashlight off the front of his body armor, attaching it to the submachine gun, activating the light on it to help illuminate their way as they moved. Reaching the U.B.C.S. Corporal, he turned around to greet them, snapping a somewhat serious somewhat mock salute.
"There he is. Hey man, first time I've seen someone bungee jump off a bridge without a rope.", Carlos laughed tiredly, sticking out his hand in offering to HUNK. The U.S.S. Agent looked at it for a moment and back to his brown eyes. There wasn't any of the anger there that there had been before. He seemed to have prioritized at last. As justified as his anger had been... survival was what mattered now. Working together, as they had before. HUNK took the extended hand, clasping it back firmly. "Hope you don't take up HALO jumps without a parachute next. You manage to give that big bastard the slip with the Bond treatment?"
"Yes. Destroyed the bridge. With luck the current took the Nemesis out to the Quarantine Zone. Hopefully it's the military's problem now. Time to get moving, before it comes back for us."
"With our luck, it's already around here somewhere. Let's keep our guards up, people. Better safe than sorry."
"You're learning, Corporal. And what of the rest of the facility?"
"Full of monsters from what we can figure, infected and mutations alike. At least on these levels. We found no survivors... but did find a diary from one of the managers.", Jill spoke up as the agent and Corporal drew back from each other. Each looking down her way. Listening carefully as she went on. "The staff was infected a long time ago. This place was the dumping ground for Birkin's experiments at NEST... crazy bastard deliberately dumped too much T-Virus material here for the plant to handle. Sabotaged it and got them all killed. The RED QUEEN sealed the place up in response, containment procedures. This was an outbreak for Raccoon City waiting to happen, for months... even if he hadn't done what he did in NEST."
"Of course he did. Like mentor, like student. To the bitter end."
"We found and cleared a path between here and an elevator back up on the main floor the suspension bridge led to."
"You've been keeping busy. Good work. Have you located the way to the helipad? A map?"
"Yes. There's a door in the rear entrance corridor leading to the Control and Communications Tower... and a central employee elevator in there we can take down to the rooftop landing pad platform. There's also a ladder down to the rear entrance of the facility... Emergency Level D, leading to the generator room and scrapyard. But the door to the tower is locked down."
"While we were out of contact I located a lab and just unlocked a doorway somewhere in the facility. Maybe that was it. Take me to it. Need to take a look either way. Otherwise we can find another solution."
"Sir, yes sir.", Carlos spoke up again, snapping another salute, a more genuine one this time. Despite the argument they'd had over the virus... the revelation... all of that seemed a million miles away now. "Good to have you back. Never thought I'd say those words."
"Good to be back. Now focus, Corporal. We still have a job to do."
The U.S.S. Agent informed them calmly, looking between the injured, disheveled blue figure and green figure. Despite everything, they both smiled at him with genuine warmth, even as worn down as they were. Safely within the mask, where they couldn't see it, he felt his lips return it faintly. Carlos took the lead at once, raising the rifle to his shoulder and marching down to the second platform, climbing up and out of the water. True to her word, Jill stuck close to HUNK as they followed him... reaching the platform, Carlos took the time to help her out of the water, and then HUNK, the three of them up on the platform. HUNK looked back a final time to the drainage canal... hoping it was the last sewer he would see. Even if it had been mercifully brief, and comparatively clean to the one Downtown. Turning back, he saw Carlos moving back to the closed metal door, and Jill beckoned HUNK to follow her, flashing him another exhausted smile, in spite of everything.
"No dawdling. Get over here next to me, where you belong, Secret Agent Man."
"Nowhere I'd rather be, Supercop."
HUNK moved up towards her again, the two side by side, weapons at the ready. There was something he liked about seeing her wield Matilda... as much as he liked her with the Samurai Edge. The way she wanted a connection to him... as many as she could. It felt good to be wanted. It always had... even if he could never admit it. Similar... but different from the way Comtesse Henri did. Carlos opened the door and swept through it, surveying whatever was beyond, and lowering his rifle again, declaring it all clear and gesturing them to move up. Jill and HUNK stepped into the spacious room beyond... overhead a green light was flashed on over the door they moved through... but it was ahead he looked to. They stood in what seemed a great metal chasm down in the facility... one of the primary operating areas of the factory, metal pipes and equipment running everywhere, along the walls and in sections. Ahead of them was a metal stairwell up to the level just above, to a walkway. Nothing stirred or moved towards them, jumped out at them... because they were all dead. There were bodies all over the room and walkway... well over a dozen blood soaked infected former employees, several escaped Hunter Betas and both types of the insectoid, mutated beings that had guarded the Grave Digger's nest. They had mutated here on their own independently, separate of the sliding worms... though there was no sign of their biomass or pods on this level, either on the walls or floors. Likely in the subterranean, warmer, darker areas of the facility, further below even their positions, in the transit tunnels. There were more broken ventilation shafts around the area... and he had little doubt the mutations and Hunters had been travelling through them around the facility. As the Licker had. Mutations and infected alike littered the work area. Bullet holes tearing up their flesh, blood and fluids flowing freely, with assorted shell casings along the floor. It looked as though the two other survivors had been through quite a battle in his absence, on their way down to find him. He saw all the boot prints through the gore, tracking down in the direction they had come from.
Carlos and Jill wrinkled their noses as they passed by the green foul smelling gore of the mutations, as they all moved to the stairwell, their boots clanking on it, echoing through the great chamber. Reaching the top, they made it to the platform walkway. He saw the metal elevator doors down straight ahead, closed up, and the lettering above denoting it. Over the platform to his right at the top of the stairs was a computer system of some sorts... vital, he was certain, to the great pool to the north east, with railings running all around its perimeter. A light was flashing on the screen of the computer, displaying an error report. HUNK passed Jill and Carlos, moving over to the edge of the pool, looking down in its murky depths. He saw decaying human corpses among it down at the bottom... some of them reduced to bones... acid bleached... all of it organic material. It must have made the chamber smell absolutely foul, from the way Carlos and Jill winced, their eyes watering. He felt a good deal of sympathy for their plight. He remembered the same effect on the surviving employees at Plant 57 during the quarantine... and the security forces there without gas masks, how unpleasant the chemicals there were. There was a ramp of sorts above the pool, like a vast conveyor belt, leading up to a pair of great sealed metal hatches. Jill looked up around the area, among the bodies and back to HUNK, moving to his side at the railing despite the smell, setting a hand on his shoulder and speaking up again.
"This is the Resolution Pool Room according to the map. It all gets dumped here from the Treatment Room above those doors, once degraded enough."
"Yes. I've been in similar facilities. Umbrella has many of them around the globe."
"Should have brought a goddamn gas mask.", Carlos coughed with irritation, raising his balaclava again and securing it tautly, as well as lowering his goggles over his eyes. Muffled tone speaking up again. "This place reeks worse than you, HUNK. Chemicals, sewage and rot. You got any spares, man?"
"Should have planned ahead, Corporal. Looks like you two added plenty of bodies for it, down here. Leave anything for me to do?"
"Told you we cleared a path, didn't I?", Jill's bruised face smiled through the chemical induced tears, having neither a gas mask or balaclava, she staved it off through willpower. She tugged at his shoulder strap firmly and gestured over to the elevator doors. "Come on, right this way. Sooner we're away from this death pit the better. Would be nice to breath properly again."
Carlos was already running past them away from the pool, double timing it to the elevator. Reaching it he tapped the button repeatedly until at last the metal doors parted, revealing the surprisingly small interior. Familiar, out of place elevator music washed over them, then... and standing back out of their way as they approached, Carlos gestured for them to step inside first. Jill entered first and then HUNK... the officer pressing up against the agent... offering him a slight smile, pressing her head to his shoulder. Behind them Carlos stepped inside as well, hitting the red up button to activate the elevator. It responded slowly, the doors creaking and closing as a great rumble filled the interior of the elevator. Once the doors had sealed, Carlos lowered his balaclava and rose up his goggles once more, drawing a low breath. It began a slow, steady ascension... all of them feeling the rumble through them the entire way up. Carlos turned and accidentally bumped right into HUNK and Jill with an annoyed grimace, speaking up over the music around them.
"Squeeze together people... damn this is a small elevator for so many employees. Place looks like a death trap even before all this. Couldn't imagine working here."
"NEST received a great deal more financing."
"Old man Spencer was cutting corners? Suppose he didn't make that many billions without being shrewd. Or is it trillions? All that funding for NEST didn't work out much better for them anyways though, did it?"
"No. With a madman in charge."
"Well, long as adding you to the weight doesn't collapse it under us, we should be good. All that shit in your pockets is probably slowing the entire machine down."
"Or your bottomless backpack."
"Good point."
They were all silent once more admit the music and cranking of gears as the elevator steadily reached the top. As they did, all three of them leveled their weapons at the metal doors... waiting for them to open. Coming to a rumbling stop, the doors parted... revealing the are already lined with corpses. More infected staff, strewn along the walkways and at control and monitoring stations of the treatment control room. All of them shot in the head by shell casings like those below. HUNK was grateful they had cleared it all out so far... at least this section of the facility. Spared him some of the work... even if part of him wished it hadn't been necessary. That he could have been present to assist them. Still, they all kept their weapons at the ready for any more infected or mutations... there were too many places they could be lurking or emerge from. They all stepped out of the elevator and over the corpses, the doors to the elevator closing behind them as they left it. A long railing ran around the walkway, and HUNK went to the edge looking over... finding the pool far below. From this height up at least the smell seemed more manageable to Carlos and Jill.
Carlos looked with a grimace over all the corpses, rifle sweeping between them in case he hadn't finished any... but nothing stirred or twitched, at least. HUNK turned backwards, to see that off to the left of the elevator was another pathway into a different section of the facility just around the corner out of sight. He turned his gaze quickly away from it and back to the right, to their path ahead. While Jill and HUNK looked around the room, HUNK getting acquainted to it, Carlos went ahead down the platform to a distant metal door. Opening it up quickly he aimed through... and HUNK caught sight of numerous bodies... so many they choked the corridor. It seemed he had taken the preferable route after all. Nodding with satisfaction the Corporal looked back to them with a nod and weak grin.
"Right this way people. No lagging behind. Ladies and not so secret agents first."
HUNK felt Jill tug his arm lightly at that, bringing him back from considering the area, and he nodded back at her. Together they moved down the platform, over the corpses and past the monitoring stations. Away from the railing and view of the chasm and pool below. Reaching the open door to the corpse filled corridor, they passed Carlos, stepping into it and pausing. HUNK surveyed the devastation of the corridor. Carlos left the door ajar, and while him and Jill studied the passageway, Carlos bolted back ahead of them, taking point once more. As he began to move, HUNK and Jill followed again, HUNK looking among all the mutilated faces of the infected employees. Security and maintenance workers alike. Twisted, rotted... advanced decomposition, maggots and flies upon some. As it had been among the infected he had encountered below, and Jill's confirmation from the manager's diaries. They had been like this for months. Some of them were even skinless... burnt, reduced to muscle tissue... as though exposed to acids. Given the nature of the facility, it was likely. He was reminded of NEST's security and staff, at the sight of the infected, dead workers... but that was about where the similarities to Birkin's facility ended.
The facility was a great rusty metalworks, dangling lights, jutting pipes and machinery, steam running in clouds... nothing like the high tech NEST facility. Even as both were linked in function, and their respective downfalls. NIGHTHAWK was right... it did remind him of Plant 57. Cleaning this place up would likely have been his mission after NEST, if not for the outbreak. If not for Birkin's madness. Alpha Team would have surely been sent to scourge this place from top to bottom, as they should have been sent much sooner. But unlike Plant 57, it was unlikely the outbreak here would have escaped containment... the way it had the plant and infected much of the village around it. This place was sealed up much better, the RED QUEEN had efficiently seen to that. Though he wondered who had left the rear entrance of the facility unlocked for Jill and Carlos to be able to enter the factory. Nikolai, or the military. Whoever had breached it. Of course Delta Force had beaten them to this place... wherever they were. He hadn't seen any military uniformed infected on the way up, nor any Tyrants. It was a rare blessing, at least... one he hoped wouldn't change. If forced to engage government troops, he would have to do so, despite his orders to avoid them. He doubted the other two would be able to understand it, even knowing about the G-Virus. He hoped there was an alternative... but sincerely doubted it already. Felt like a fool hoping for anything, here. They continued along the path, and HUNK finally looked back down to the Corporal, muffled tone speaking up again as they neared the next bend.
"Much further ahead, Corporal?"
"Just around this corner, man. I tell you... there were so many of these freaks I wish it had been me jumping off that...-"
Carlos froze so suddenly upon passing the corner that HUNK bumped into him, his gaze in the mask instantly moving to the direction the Corporal's widening eyes stared. hearing the young man curse. A tall, broad, green uniformed, black armored figure stood in waiting, his pistol already pointed down at Carlos, taking him off guard. HUNK saw the silencer on the end of the man's weapon... and the red laser sight beneath, the red light fixating upon Carlos's head. He saw rain soaked silver hair and a trace of a smile. A cold triumphant gleam in a pair of icy eyes. HUNK acted at once, grabbing Carlos by the backpack and throwing the Corporal backwards, hearing him curse with shock as he collapsed back behind the wall among the bodies, while HUNK traded places with him. MP5 and laser sight snapping up at the figure. But in the time it took to get Oliveira clear and raise his weapon, before the agent could open fire, the Monitor beat him to it.
Doing so several times.
HUNK saw the flash of red light, heard the echoing roar and instantly felt the rounds slamming into his body, knocking him back, and all the air out of him, gasping through the mask. He squeezed down on the trigger and opened up, armor piercing incendiary tracer rounds spitting out the silencer but flying wildly as something slammed against the side of the weapon. The tracers sent sparks flying everywhere as they struck metal, and the submachine gun flew from the agent's hands over the shouts and screams behind him. Something struck the side of his right knee, then, collapsing his leg out from under him, and something of a lesser force struck his head then as he went tumbling backwards, and he felt himself hit the ground among the corpses of the rotting, infected staff, the world exploding in his vision.
He struggled to get back up... but couldn't... his skull was screaming... all he could do was lay there, pain spreading, and hear more gunfire overhead being exchanged, and a voice cursing... the slamming of metal... an electronic beep... and the gunfire ceasing. Within moments, a beautiful, otherworldly blue figure knelt over him while a bulky green one aimed a rifle down in the direction ahead of him. The blue figure drew closer... but in another moment he couldn't see its face any longer, as it tried to speak to him, shook him. Looked him over. Shouting something at him. A frantic command. He couldn't hear what it was, but he saw the terror in her blue eyes. The ringing in his ears was too loud... worsening... the pounding of his heart... the haze of his vision swallowing him, as he fought to stay conscious with all he had. To stay in the world with them. To reach out for them. He reached up for her, trying to grasp her... struggled in vain... it was all too much. He wasn't strong enough... he had failed. Failed his mission, himself... and them. Walking right into the ambush.
Slowly, his strength was sapped away to nothingness. Unable to fight it any longer, his arm dropping back down to his side. HUNK was pulled away from those fearful blue eyes and down into the pitiless darkness that encompassed him.
Along with the decade old dream that returned with it... where a pair of alluring, green, heated eyes he knew beckoned to him from it.
CLIFFHANGER! To be followed by HUNK's backstory. The steady character development of our mystery man continues. Stick around ;).
