The Progenitor Chronicles

by inserthedgehog

The Progenitor Chronicles takes place from July 1998 to July 2016. The story follows Rebecca Chambers as she strives to find a cure to the Progenitor Virus and its descendants, fighting biohazards with intelligence rather than with guns. It also explores this world constantly under threat from bioterrorists from the eyes of a regular civilian growing up.

1. Volume I - Survival

Foreword

Hello and welcome to my Resident Evil fanfiction. I wanted to write down a few notes on the structure of the story you're (hopefully) about to read and on what I tried to do when composing it. I guess you'll be the judge on whether I did it well.

The story is told in first-person and alternates perspectives between 2 protagonists. Chapter 1 is the main character (MC), Chapter 2 is Rebecca Chambers, Chapter 3 returns to the MC, Chapter 4 returns to Rebecca, etc. It covers a timeframe from July 1998, right after the events of Resident Evil 1, to 2016, a few years after the events of Resident Evil 6. I've written this story as a pseudo-canonical fanfiction, meaning I want this to be as compatible with canon as possible. As for what constitutes "canon," I've based it on all the numbered Resident Evil games (minus 7 – I'll explain why later), Code Veronica, and the 2 Revelations games. I'm ignoring everything else to keep things simple. In particular, I'm ignoring the CG movies. While I have nothing against the first two, I don't feel they add a lot to the lore and given that I'm already covering almost 20 years' worth of in-universe events, I thought omitting them was prudent. In contrast, I absolutely despise the third movie, Vendetta, so I have a more active reason to omit that one. That said, there are 2 things in Vendetta I like: Rebecca being a scientist rather than a full-time combatant and some minor aspects of her personality/dialogue, so I did use those concepts.

I had 3 goals in mind when writing this story. First, a pseudo-canonical fanfiction doesn't mean I want to novelize the in-game events. I don't want to, say, write about the events of Resident Evil 3 from Jill Valentine's perspective. There are novelizations like that by actual authors and, even beyond those, fans of the series who've played Resident Evil 3 will already have experienced it from Jill's perspective. So instead, I wanted to explore the reaction of a main series character (Rebecca) to the major canonical events that she wasn't directly involved in. To give an example: there's a chapter where Chris calls the remaining STARS members to a gathering after the events of Code Veronica. He wants to inform them that Wesker is alive (something he discovers in Code Veronica) and to plan their next move – a very important course of action given how dangerous Wesker is on both a general and personal level to them all. This is one reason Rebecca's a main character. She's a protagonist from the games, but she isn't directly involved in any event past Resident Evil 1.

The second goal is to write a completely regular and everyday character to explore the world of Resident Evil. What does it look like to live in this world when you're not an action hero actively fighting monsters? That's where the MC comes in. I'll admit he's very heavily based on me and that's actually the main reason I never name him, as I don't want to use my real name and I am bad at coming up with names for fictional characters that appeal to me. At any rate, we see things like the Raccoon Trials from the MC's perspective – an everyday citizen reading the news. What does the general public look like when considering this massive, secretive judicial process involving the complete destruction of a city?

The first time the MC directly encounters bioweapons (Hunters) is in Terragrigia. He's on vacation there with his friends with the Panic begins. The MC is no fighter and he's unarmed. What does that look like? In-game, we see characters caught in bioterror/biohazard outbreaks, but they're always versed in combat or at least armed. What does a layperson do in this situation?

Finally, my third goal is to wrap up what I consider to be the first main Resident Evil plot arc – the various pathogens descendant from Progenitor. You'll recall I specifically omitted Resident Evil 7. I have nothing against the game, and, in fact, I like that it's a soft reboot. I think the series needs a new plot arc with new characters; otherwise, you get something like Resident Evil 6, where we have extremely experienced protagonists fighting yet another virus related to the previous viruses. That'll get repetitive. But a soft reboot means we have a few unresolved plot points, such as the Family from Resident Evil 6, Jessica Sherawat and Raymond Vester from Revelations 1, and Alex Wesker/Natalia Korda from Revelations 2. In the latter part of my story, I tried to wrap those plot points up. I hope that the future of the series features a new cast fighting a new enemy.

And that's about it. I had a lot of fun writing this thing and I sincerely hope you enjoy reading it just as much. Please feel free to leave comments and critiques. So without further ado I present…

Chapter 1 (MC): A Midsummer Morning's Dream, July 1998

As I ran, my surroundings warped and morphed in dizzying ways. A train, luxurious and beautiful and ferrying the doomed to hell. A mansion, alight with angry flame, bright against the dark of night. A museum, displaying ancient and forgotten relics of order. A clock tower, tolling the end of death and the beginning of life. An ornate, valuable mask, changing from male to female to horror. A beacon of darkness, guiding the faithful with ignorance. The sun's light shining from the depths of the ocean. A boulder. A pregnant woman giving birth to fear. And in the end…a family, together, where all its members were the same broken man.

I was out of breath by then. I stopped, and heard a soft feminine voice: "These are your first steps."

A shrill alarm drew my attention. My surroundings began to warp again, but this time they receded, faded…and my eyes flew open as I awoke to the sound of my phone ringing. Still groggy, I stumbled out of bed and answered the phone. It was Professor Elvira Maple, who ran the lab at Raccoon University I was doing a summer internship in.

"I know it's Saturday, but are you free? We have somewhat of a situation here and I could use as many hands as I can get."

"Sure, Professor. I'll be right in."

I showered, got dressed, and walked across campus toward the biotechnology building. It was pretty early in the day, but it was already getting warm – typical July weather, I supposed. I wondered what Professor Maple was referring to when she said they had a situation; my internship had been uneventful, if not interesting and enlightening. Raccoon City was a pretty quiet town, after all.

I entered the biotechnology building and headed down the hall. As I rounded the corner into the lab, I saw just about the entire lab's personnel had also reported in. I found the professor and walked over.

"Oh, good. We could use another pair of hands. I want you to gown up. Completely. Then go to the test room and replace all the bench liners. Start preparing gauze and tubes of sterile saline. Make sure the 70% ethanol bottles are full – and also take out 2 full bottles of Betadine."

She seemed more serious than usual. Something big had happened. I nodded and turned to begin carrying out the tasks when she stopped me.

"One more thing – leave one bench completely clear except for the new lining. We're going to be bringing in equipment and clothing potentially contaminated with a pathogen, so we need to leave an area to keep them while we prepare them for analysis."

"Got it," I said, and began my preparations. When I had finished, I returned to the main lab. A teenage girl had arrived – someone I didn't recognize. She seemed exhausted and disheveled. Her clothes looked incredibly dirty, but on her shoulders, I could still make out the emblem for the Special Tactics and Rescue Squad. She wore mostly green save for a white, lightly armored vest. Despite her appearance, I thought she looked…well, beautiful. I had a strange, unexplained urge to approach her and ask her whether she were an angel.

Of course, I didn't do that, and the professor noticed me and walked over. "Is the room prepped?"

"Yes," I responded.

"Good. I have another task for you. Go to the equipment room downstairs and bring back a set of small scrubs. We're going to be analyzing Rebecca's clothes and equipment and she's going to need something to wear."

The girl's name was Rebecca? Okay. I slipped out of the lab, took off my personal protective equipment, and went downstairs. It dawned on me as I was picking out the scrubs that the latest graduate from the lab, Rebecca Chambers, had joined the special forces in the Raccoon Police Department right after she graduated from college. Was that her? I guessed they'd sent her on some sort of dangerous mission or something. I often wondered why Raccoon City, a relatively isolated place, would need special forces in its police force, but based on that girl's appearance back in the lab, maybe it was warranted.

Returning to the lab, I re-gowned and reported back to the professor. The new girl was no longer there, but Professor Maple told me she'd relocated into the test room. I gave her the scrubs and she told me to wait outside before she also disappeared into the test room.

"So…what's this all about?" I took the opportunity to ask the idle graduate students.

"Rebecca called Elvira this morning and said she just got back from a mission. Apparently STARS ran into a mansion in the mountains infected with a virus. Rebecca says the virus isn't airborne, so we're just making sure the lab's covered up."

"…What if she's wrong? Shouldn't we be wearing masks or something?"

"She seemed pretty confident. Besides, she's not often wrong," was the chuckling response. "You've never met her, right? She graduated before you came."

So the new girl was Rebecca Chambers. "Yeah," I answered. "So…if STARS all went to this infected mansion, why is she the only one here? Shouldn't a bunch of other STARS members also be here?"

The graduate students collectively shrugged. Presently the professor returned with Miss Chambers, now in scrubs. She pointed to me. "Go in and start taking samples with the gauze and saline. Make sure you double-glove first. After you're done, use the ethanol and iodine to decontaminate the equipment and clothes as best you can. The rest of you, start preparing for PCR and blotting. I want all three blots."

We all dispersed. I put on another pair of gloves and entered the test room. Miss Chambers's things were all laid out on the empty bench I'd cleaned off and I went to work swabbing and placing samples in the saline tubes. A shiver traveled through my body as I picked up her left boot with her sock stuffed into it, but I shook my head and swabbed three samples around different parts of the boot and repeated with the right boot. Her socks followed and, after I'd finished swabbing her socks, I started on the disinfection. I prepared some gauze and began to clean the outside of her boots with Betadine, followed by ethanol.

I did my best to focus. I had to do a good job. It seemed important – more so than the mundane tasks I normally did everyday in lab. I had to be thorough…even though I didn't have the sort of advanced knowledge the others did, even I knew how dangerous an infectious virus was.

It would end up being a long Saturday as I labored on in solitude. But I didn't really mind.

Chapter 2 (Rebecca): Parting Ways, August 1998

Professor Maple placed the cup of coffee down in front of me and returned to her seat. I gratefully took a sip and slightly relaxed.

"According to the assays, the virus doesn't seem to match any characteristics of airborne pathogens. It had no discernible effect on lung or nasal cells. It very quickly destroyed a fibroblast culture, however," Professor Maple began, showing me a few images.

I sighed and leaned back in the chair. The files in the mansion had been quite clear about this "t-virus" being only transmitted through direct contact with the bloodstream, but it was good to confirm. "What other information do we have?"

"Every cell culture we've exposed to whatever viral particles we took from your clothes either showed no effect or underwent necrosis within hours. Characterization of what happens in the cell post-infection isn't possible. We're also out of viral samples. You…did a great job evading whatever carried this pathogen, apparently."

Professor Maple gave me a wry smile, which I halfheartedly returned. I must have slept for days now and I was still feeling tired. Having nightmares about zombies likely had something to do with that. I took another sip of coffee.

"Thank you. For everything. I know it was sudden to ask you to do this."

"Don't mention it, Rebecca. I'm mainly glad you're okay, especially after the news reported only 4 members of STARS returning from the mountains."

There was a pause, and Professor Maple said, slowly, "What exactly happened out there? If you're allowed to tell me, of course."

"…Chief Irons ordered us to keep the details of this investigation secret," I answered, making an effort to hide my reservations. After writing our reports, us remaining members of STARS had petitioned Chief Irons to open an investigation into Umbrella based on what we'd found out in the mountains. He'd refused and instead told us to keep quiet. I could understand if he didn't want us to tell the public everything to prevent panic, but blocking an investigation?

Professor Maple's voice interrupted my thoughts. "That's understandable. Don't worry about it."

I changed the subject. "I…I've been thinking. I might have made a mistake joining STARS. I'm starting to see that law enforcement doesn't really suit me, now that I've been on a mission."

"Somehow I don't think the mission you were just on counts as a regular mission," the professor responded. "But if you want a career change, early on is always better. What do you want to do?"

"Remember how you encouraged me to go to graduate school? I think…I mean, I'd have to apply for fall 1999, but I think I'll do that."

"That sounds good. I know you'll do great. Come to think of it, my colleague in Houston might have an intern opening in her lab. Why don't I put you two in contact? You have lab experience already with me, but interning elsewhere would certainly help too."

I smiled, probably the first time I actually felt like smiling for days. "That would be great."

Professor Maple turned to her computer and started typing something. "Speaking of interns…you know, our summer intern reminds me a lot of you."

"Oh, how so? The one who started after I left, right?"

"Yes. He's young, but his aptitude is quite advanced for his age. In fact, he did all the sample preparation from your things. I know these summer things are usually a one-off, but I'd hate to see his talents go to waste. I wonder if you could be an unofficial mentor."

I looked at her quizzically. "Me? Mentor someone?"

Professor Maple laughed. "Why not?"

"Usually I'm the one being mentored," I said. "I mean, I don't mind, if he's willing to put up with me."

Professor Maple smiled. "I'll let him know then."

"Actually, about the sample prep. Was the recording feed on? I'd like to see how the sample prep went."

"It was, actually. You know, you're probably the first person I've ever known to want to look at a test recording. Honestly, most of the time I don't even know why we have that set up in the first place. Every once in awhile all it does is give one of the students extra work when it needs to be deleted to clear hard drive space."

"Yeah, I remember having to do that a lot," I said, chuckling. "Well, I'll go check it out. Thanks again, Professor."

She smiled at me as I finished my coffee and stood up wearily. I wondered if I'd ever not feel tired ever again. I left the office and walked down the empty hall. It had been…what, a week? A week. Last Saturday was when we'd come home on the STARS Alpha Team's helicopter. Ironically, I remember wishing the helicopter ride could've been longer so I'd have more time to sleep, despite me spending the previous 2 days desperately wishing I were back home.

My first thought upon landing was to make sure we didn't inadvertently contaminate the city, so I called my old professor and asked her to prepare her lab. Chris and Jill instead decided to return directly to headquarters. I wasn't sure what they were going to do – both leaders of our teams were dead and any higher-ups wouldn't be in on Saturday.

…Not that the higher-ups being there would've helped things. We all went to Chief Irons on Monday and submitted our reports, including the revelation that Captain Wesker had been an Umbrella mole. The chief didn't even seem fazed that the captain of the RPD's elite unit had just led STARS into a trap that killed all but 5 of us.

We said 4, of course – we reported Barry among the killed in action. Chief Irons responded with the same incredulity-inducing indifference at this news, which probably meant Barry had successfully gone into hiding with his family as we'd planned.

Chris had finally lost it and yelled at Chief Irons for his seeming apathy toward our ordeal. Chief Irons responded by "officially" disbanding STARS and telling us to leave to await further orders. I was upset, for sure, but at the time I just needed rest. I'd slept through the weekend, but that wasn't enough – even if I hadn't had constant nightmares (which I did). Prior to that, I'd been awake for about 50 straight hours – I woke up on Thursday morning, went to work, embarked on the mission that night, had to fight my way through those Umbrella facilities and that insane leech monster throughout the night up until Friday morning, walked to the mansion while fighting those messed-up looking dogs through the forest, entered the mansion sometime in the late afternoon and searched for the rest of Bravo Team, ran into Alpha Team when they arrived Friday night, and fought our way out of that mansion – which turned out to be another Umbrella facility – into sunrise on Saturday.

I'd spend the next few days mostly recovering. Professor Maple had continually kept tabs on me, something I was incredibly grateful for. Chris and Jill had continued trying to get through to Chief Irons, to no avail. Given that Captain Wesker was an Umbrella mole, I wonder if the chief was one too. When I raised this possibility to Chris and Jill, they were grim but seemed to agree.

I don't know what their plans are, but more and more I think fighting monsters and now corporate politics isn't my place. If a giant corporation like Umbrella is producing bioweapons, the best I can do is probably continue being a scientist so I can aid in vaccine development, virology research, and other countermeasures to outbreaks. Sure, I'd killed a Tyrant when even Jill had trouble (I still distinctly remember her yelling, "HOW DID REBECCA MANAGE TO KILL ONE OF THESE THINGS?" on the roof of the mansion), but I'm really not a fighter. I'm not Chris, or Jill, or Barry. They're soldiers. I'm a medic.

Rounding the corner, I entered the lab and walked over to access the terminal for viewing the test room recordings. I had a sinking feeling the horrors we'd seen in the mountains were just preludes to something much, much worse.

Chapter 3 (MC): Purification by Fire, October 1998

As I got off the bus, the falling leaves caught my eye. Autumn was right around the corner, heralding the end of the summer that had shaken the entire country. Last night, just about every new outlet reported that President Whitmore had ordered a thermobaric missile strike on Raccoon City to eradicate a hellish viral outbreak. The city I'd visited to do an unassuming summer internship was no more.

I called Miss Chambers to check on her. She wasn't okay, unsurprisingly. It was the first time I'd actually called her. I remember being nervous after flying home from Raccoon City – Professor Maple had introduced us and asked Miss Chambers to be my unofficial mentor, to which she responded with a smile and a thumbs-up – but I was never good at initiating contact with people. Luckily, she did, sending me a cheerful e-mail the day after I'd gotten home. We were basically pen pals after that, but this time…

Through tears, speaking in rushed and almost incoherent sentences, she told me about the mission that had ended with her in Professor Maple's lab. She'd embarked into the mountains with the rest of STARS Bravo Team, only for the helicopter to crash unexpectedly. She discovered a derelict train and investigated it to discover the passengers and crew turned into mindless zombies. She encountered an opera-singing leech that crashed the train into an Umbrella facility miles away, injuring her. A fellow survivor carried her into the building, where she performed some first-aid on herself and teamed up with the other survivor to escape the place, fighting through more zombies and much worse monsters – all, she discovered, were caused by a horrific virus developed by Umbrella. They killed the leech, which was responsible for leaking the virus.

At this point she paused – I assume to wipe away tears – before continuing, telling me that the other survivor who'd helped her was undeniably killed during the fight. She then made her way to her rendezvous point, fighting through even more monsters, but found that she had reached yet another Umbrella facility and most of her teammates from Bravo Team were dead. She met up with STARS Alpha Team and provided support as they investigated the facility. They learned that the captain of STARS, Albert Wesker, was an Umbrella mole who'd lured the entire team into the facility to be killed by the monsters created by Umbrella while blackmailing another member of STARS (Barry Burton) to help him. She managed to concoct a plan involving Barry signaling the Alpha Team pilot to get him back home while Chris Redfield, another STARS member, distracted Wesker. Miss Chambers activated the facility's self-destruct system, which she knew existed because someone had set off a similar system in the first facility she'd gotten trapped in.

The team – plus the final surviving member, Jill Valentine – reunited in the secret Umbrella laboratory under the mansion and confronted Wesker, who woke a giant monster to kill the team. The monster killed Wesker instead and the team narrowly escaped to the roof to meet up with the returning pilot. The monster caught up with them, knocking Jill back down as she was boarding the helicopter, but the pilot dropped her a rocket launcher to kill the monster before they all escaped the exploding mansion.

I listened quietly. It was unbelievable, but that very same virus had, between the time we'd left the city to now, infected the entire city and turned the whole population into the violent cannibal zombies Miss Chambers described, to the point the President thought the only way to contain the virus was by destroying the entire city. There was no way she was lying – and honestly, why would she? It's not like she has much to gain by embellishing her experiences with some kid who interned at her old lab.

"…I'm sorry," I remember saying, even as I felt the futility of my words.

She continued. Barry disappeared with his family to protect them from Umbrella. Chris decided to go to Europe on vacation – maybe to get away from their horrific ordeal? Jill and Brad, the pilot, were unaccounted for. She told me she'd decided to return to school to study virology in the hopes of combating the pathogens Umbrella made and is undoubtedly still making, but…well, school takes time. People don't learn advanced biotechnology overnight.

As she spoke, I thought of my own schooling. I'd always looked at school as the thing I did everyday because I was supposed to. Sure, I enjoyed some of the curriculum and I routinely tried to excel just to see how high I could achieve, but Miss Chambers's words, at that moment, showed me that the pursuit of knowledge was supposed to have a higher purpose. It was the first of many things she would end up teaching me.

Without giving the matter too much more thought (I was having a phone conversation, after all), I awkwardly spoke. "Miss Chambers, I can tell how despairing it might seem, but…umm…look, I know you'll achieve your goal. And…uhh, why don't I help you? I mean, I'm not…I'm not at your level yet, but Professor Maple wanted you to mentor me, right? Teach me. Push me as hard as you will. If I learn enough, I can help you one day."

She didn't answer right away and I started wondering if I'd just made a fool of myself. Combating bioterrorism wasn't exactly something one just volunteered for over the phone. I began babbling an explanation when she interrupted me, her voice no longer tenuous and shaken. She sounded strong. She sounded confident.

"Okay. We'll both do our best. But you'd better keep up, you understand?"

A classmate's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I must've looked stoned or something, staring at that tree like I was. I turned and began walking home. I already had a mountain of homework – from school, and from Miss Chambers.

Chapter 4 (Rebecca): Agent of Shadow, January 1999

I looked from one grim face to another. Jill, who fought through a monster-filled mansion, killed some sort of super-Tyrant (what'd she call it – a Nemesis?) during Raccoon City's total infection, and escaped Raccoon City even as a thermobaric missile flew through the air to reduce it to a crater; Chris, who fought through that same mansion, embarked on a one-man mission to take down the entirety of Umbrella by pretending to go to Europe on vacation, and saved his sister trapped in Antarctica, of all places; and Claire, who drove right into Raccoon City without realizing it was overrun by zombies, fought her way through the night armed with nothing except some things her brother had taught her, escaped after killing William Birkin's horrifically mutated forms, attacked an Umbrella Europe facility by herself while looking for Chris, and fought off some creepy twins leading more of Umbrella's evil bioweapon research. They'd all overcome ludicrous odds and struck resounding blows against Umbrella. But we were far in a celebratory or even relieved mood.

Chris had called us here – to this remote cabin in the middle of nowhere. It was the first time we'd all been together since last summer, when all this began. The only one missing was Barry, whom Chris didn't call because he wanted Barry to have some peace with his family rather than get caught up in another fight. It seemed a prudent decision, as he wasted no time in revealing that Albert Wesker was alive. To make it worse, it seemed he now had superhuman strength and speed somehow. If (1) we hadn't all gone through multiple ordeals involving virus-monsters and (2) Chris hadn't been the one to tell us – Chris, who wasn't ever the joking type, I would probably have responded irritably by demanding he stop wasting my time. But I knew he was being serious. We all did.

Jill broke the silence. "So what's he after? To save Umbrella? The government's been taking some public action against them."

"I don't think so. He seemed to have his own agenda. He was in Antarctica to retrieve another virus from Alexia Ashford."

"How many viruses did these people make?!"

"…I guess we've seen three so far," I said. "The one that we saw in the mountains and that hit the city, the thing Birkin made that Claire described, and now this new one that gave Ashford fire powers."

Claire spoke. "During biology class the only viruses we studied were the ones that gave people diseases. Now we have zombies, mutant monsters, and fire powers?"

I didn't respond…not that I had much of an answer. Science seemed to have gone out the window and I found myself wondering, yet again, whether me staying in school was ever going to help anyone.

Presently I said, quietly, "Regardless, we need a plan. Is there anyone else we can trust?"

"Leon," Claire answered. "He and I got out of Raccoon City together."

"It was Leon who told me where to go to find Claire when she ended up in Antarctica," Chris added. "I agree we can trust him. But he's in some sort of secret government agency now. Can he even help us? The reason he called me rather than go after Claire himself was because he couldn't take leave on such short notice."

"It couldn't hurt to tell him what we know. We also need someone to warn Barry. A secret government agent Wesker doesn't know about seems best for that," Jill responded.

"I didn't want to get Barry involved…" Chris said, frowning.

"But if Wesker's back, the remaining members of STARS are going to be on his hit list. He at least needs to know. He and his family."

"You're right," Chris said. "I'll talk to Barry. Claire can talk to Leon."

"What else can we do?" I asked.

"You should keep doing your lab research. We're going to need your smarts moving forward," Jill said. "I don't know what sorts of legal maneuvering Umbrella's going to pull to get out of these trials coming up and Wesker's out there with at least 3 different virus strains. If another outbreak occurs somewhere, we need a cure."

I smiled slightly. I could always count on Jill to be her supportive self. "Even thus, I really wish I could do more. Sometimes I feel so useless sitting in a lab waiting for another experiment to finish."

"I think out of all of us right now, you're doing the most to prepare. I mean, what are Chris and I supposed to do? Stockpile guns?"

"I don't really see an issue with that," Claire said. "Didn't you say Barry was a gun connoisseur?"

"I said he knew his way around a firearm," Chris said. "I meant it literally. He has a gun. One. Can use it really well. Really attached to it."

"That's…decidedly less helpful than I was thinking."

"Jill's right, though. We need more people and more equipment. I don't know where to start, but…that should be our immediate priority. Between a group ready to fight whatever monsters Umbrella makes to Rebecca's work on countering their viruses, we can mount at least some sort of response to whatever comes."

We were quiet for a short while longer before we concluded that our bare-bones plan was likely the best we could do at the time. The sun was beginning to set, so we prepared dinner – not that many of us had much of an appetite. Afterward, Chris and Jill went off to plan how to go about recruiting people to our cause. I remember Chris mentioning how thinking strategically and paying attention to secrecy wasn't really his style and that he'd have to get used to being a leader.

I left the cabin and went out to the porch. I felt like I did the first night I went to college – alone, though I belonged there, because I was just so different from the others. I was at the age most would be starting high school, yet I was there with people who'd just finished it.

The people around me were great – they never seemed to look down on me because of my age, but the teenage years, being the tumultuous change-filled years they were, meant my peers and I were constantly on different wavelengths. It was probably the main reason I joined STARS after graduation – people of all ages join the police force, so I thought I wouldn't be "that little child prodigy" and nothing else there. Of course, that's exactly what I was in STARS anyway, and then my first mission happened. All of a sudden, being a child in school didn't seem so bad anymore.

The door behind me opened and I turned to see Chris's sister walk outside. "Getting some air too?"

"Something like that," I said.

Claire sat down next to me. "My brother and Jill are still strategizing in there. You're going to be figuring out how to fight the virus itself. I can't help but wonder what I'm supposed to do. I'm not a fighter, nor am I a brilliant scientist."

"Chris told me you demolished an Umbrella Europe facility in Paris by yourself."

"Well Chris told me you killed a Tyrant single-handedly. Among other things. Lots of other things. Doesn't mean you're a fighter, though, right?"

I smiled. "Touché."

Claire stretched out and looked up at the night sky. "When I think about Umbrella, I remember what I saw in Raccoon City that night I rode in. Such a big city, clearly once full of life, reduced to hell. You guys see a war to fight, but all I can think of is a bunch of regular people caught in the crossfire."

"There're some humanitarian organizations trying to help the families of the victims in Raccoon City. Are you thinking of joining one of them?"

"No. Umbrella's cover-up is slowing down their efforts. They need to be organized. I was thinking of getting them all to coordinate somehow."

"How would you do that? I mean, it sounds great, don't get me wrong."

Claire sighed. "I don't know. I have a few friends at school who're better at this than I am. But I just…I just feel like I need to do something."

"I know the feeling," I responded. "I'm sure you'll make a big impact."

Claire smiled. "Thanks. I hope so."

Chapter 5 (MC): Reunion, October 2001

The entire class was staring at me. Blinking, I realized the teacher had noticed my lack of attention to her lecture and had asked me a question to call me out. I quickly scanned the board.

"Uhh, well, the DNA reads ACT, which means the mRNA would read UGA, so that's a stop codon. There's…only 2 amino acids coded before that, one of which is AUG for methionine, so that's likely a mutation resulting in a truncated protein. Was I close?"

"…Yes, actually. That's exactly right. Thank you."

I relaxed. It wasn't that I didn't want to pay attention to class – I was just more sleep-deprived than usual. I'd moved to Houston in the summer of 2000 and, though it was hard to leave my friends, moving wasn't new to me. I'd had to move fairly frequently during my childhood. I was also a mixture of excited and nervous to see Miss Chambers again, who was beginning her doctoral studies.

She kept teaching me with her usual strict and accelerated pace, constantly pushing me to my limits. As a result, my regular classes seemed incredibly easy in comparison and my classmates routinely expressed awe at how effortless school seemed to me. If only they knew the intensity of the fire I was being forged in.

Keeping up with normal school, Miss Chambers's tutelage, and my extracurriculars was definitely taking a toll on me. But I felt alive – like life was a coursing river and I was fighting valiantly against it, growing stronger over time. Most people looked at their youthful energy in hindsight, but I could see the present was the time of my life I could afford to fill up my schedule recklessly.

I wasn't exactly skilled at my extracurricular activities. I'd begun learning kendo out of a silly childhood obsession with Japanese swords, but I've always been frail and non-athletic. I enjoyed archery much more, as it didn't involve strenuous physical activity, but my poor eyesight made improving difficult.

Today was an off day, though, one of those rare days I could actually slack off with nothing of note to do. I returned home, showered, ate dinner, and decided to browse the Internet. A few news articles documented the ongoing Raccoon Trials, with analysts discussing the thinly veiled obstruction tactics continually employed by Umbrella's attorneys and their conservative, pro-corporate allies in Washington. Even to me, someone usually uninterested in politics, the proceedings were infuriating.

As I continued scrolling, a headline caught my eye. It was an economic article describing Umbrella's assets dropping in value. I clicked on it and was surprised to see a section mentioning an Internet rumor that Umbrella's pathogens – the ones that had infected Raccoon City – could also have found their way into Umbrella's standard over-the-counter products.

The article linked to a message board and a post…which I recognized as my own. Someone had asked how pathogens, such as viruses, could spread, and I had responded: depending on the pathogen, multiple forms of transmission were possible. As an off-comment, I mentioned that contaminated food or drugs was a possibility.

I hadn't checked that message board since, but as I scrolled then, I realized people had taken my comments and run with them to increasingly ludicrous conclusions. Umbrella was associated with viruses now that the Trials were ongoing. What if their products were contaminated? What if the way their headache medication worked was to deliver virus to shut down the brain so it would stop hurting? What if their scented skin cream dispensed virus along with the scent and everyone was being brainwashed right now? What if their cold medication was teleporting the cold virus, using secret alien technology, into their labs so they could enhance it into some sort of super-cold virus and teleport it back out into the wild ZOMG?

It was slightly amusing as I read through the posts, but then I remembered the article that had brought me here. The point was that the environment of secrecy on Capitol Hill was leading to all sorts of conspiracy theories and rumors – and as they spread, people were increasingly eschewing Umbrella's products. Even if someone didn't quite believe the rumors, plenty of companies were making headache medicine – buying another brand would change little and the consumer would be safe in case the rumors were true.

Umbrella was a corporation – part of its power was economic. If Umbrella lost enough money, they would become unable to play all the political games in front of Congress. Lawyers cost money, after all.

That gave me an idea. Spreading rumors to damage Umbrella's public reputation shouldn't be difficult. I returned to the message board and began to write. I was subtle – using crazy conspiracy-theory language was just going to get me ignored. No, instead, people should calm down. Umbrella's baby formula was likely not brainwashing your newborn with invisible alien ray technology; instead, there was just some chance it got contaminated during production, so your newborn would just get really sick. Teleporting pathogens was impossible, guys, the worst Umbrella could do was make medicine, sell it, see how well it worked against pathogens in the wild, and use that knowledge to make stronger pathogens. No, I doubt Umbrella made genetically enhanced violent raccoons in Raccoon City. Why would they, when there are far deadlier animals to weaponize, like a bear-shark hybrid.

Days passed. I wasn't the only one making posts like this (though, perhaps I was the only one with my specific motive), but it soon came to pass that a wide range of conspiracy theories and rumors spread throughout the country. Some were quite outlandish – most of them involved aliens or evil mastermind dogs, but that only made the more subtle ones even more believable. And honestly, some of the things I and others had written were probably true (not the aliens or the evil mastermind dogs).

People around me continually avoided Umbrella's products and, it seemed, that trend was continuing across the country. Umbrella's estimated worth continued to fall. They had a long way to fall, but they fell. Looking back, I don't know how much my silly posts really contributed to that, but it was probably something, and that brought me some joy.

Chapter 6 (Rebecca): A Path to Darkness, April 2002

I entered the lab and put my things down. The other graduate students looked up briefly and went back to whatever they'd been doing when I walked in. They rarely talked to me anymore, but that didn't really bother me.

It was more than 3 years after Raccoon City's destruction. When I first got home after my first mission, all I could think about was how relieved I was to be alive. Then, after I recovered, I thought about what to do in order to hold Umbrella accountable for all the horrible things they'd done in their secret labs, not to mention the leaked virus and the murders.

Chief Irons had stopped us. The remaining members of STARS decided to combat Umbrella in our own way. Even after their virus wiped out an entire city, we remained hopeful that we – and others – could bring them to justice. That was 3 years ago.

The government opened an investigation and took Umbrella to trial over what happened in Raccoon City. Months of bureaucracy and legal scheming turned into years – 3 years – and Umbrella was still standing. The media initially covered the trials frequently, but not anymore. Claire's TerraSave organization continued to support the families of those lost in Raccoon City, but it seemed that they would never see justice served. Chris and Jill had indeed recruited a few survivors to their cause, but they could do little – attacking Umbrella facilities would simply lead to them being labeled as terrorists. And me? I'd powered through my coursework requirements during my first year of doctoral studies and then dove directly into wet lab work. Experiments and projects moved slowly, but to make things worse, I found myself afraid to publish papers on my virology research. Someone, somewhere, could use them to make more potent pathogens. And a graduate student who didn't publish research was a failed graduate student. My PI continually put pressure on me, which was maddening enough.

Umbrella was going to get away with all they'd done while we sat around struggling with futility. It was all so infuriatingly frustrating.

I dealt with my feelings by burying myself in my work. Academics had always come easily to me and research, while not the same as coursework, still served the same purpose. I spent most of my time in lab. Regularly I'd put on my old combat gear and exercise. Once a week I did my tutoring session. That was my life. Nothing else.

I performed my labwork in silence as the day went on. People went in and out of the lab, chatting about one thing or another. I paid them no mind, and they did the same to me. The afternoon came, and I finished up to go tutor.

He'd made a lot of progress, especially lately. He honestly didn't need me, or anyone, to tutor him. He was already obliterating all his regular coursework, but he would come every week to visit me. I didn't exactly mind, I guess. We'd been doing this for 3 years already, after all.

He was waiting for me as I walked into the lounge. "Miss Chambers," he said, with that smile.

"Hey," I replied, and sat down. He showed me what he'd done over the week – some moderately advanced stuff, especially for his age – and I gave him a few comments and told him what to do next. I quizzed him on some protein synthesis mechanisms, which he got partially correct, and I gave him some more to study.

As we ended for the day, I stood up and prepared to return to lab. He remained sitting and I stopped to look at him.

"Miss Chambers," he said, slowly. "I've been meaning to ask you…am I…a bother?"

"What are you talking about?"

"It's just…lately, you seem distant. For awhile now, actually. And I just thought –"

"Look, if you don't want to meet up like this anymore, just say so."

"No, it's not that! I just wanted to ask whether you were okay."

Was I okay? Of course I wasn't okay. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but I don't have time for this. We're done for today. Go home."

"Please. Tell me what's wrong."

I lost it. "What's wrong? Everything is wrong, you…you naïve child. People in suits play chess in the government while who-knows how many twisted maniacs are hiding in their secret, insane, lavish mansions making eldritch horrors to kill people. You're asking me what's wrong? Do you know how many people died 3 years ago? Of course you don't. Grow up."

A look of pure hurt covered his face. Shaking my head, I turned heel and left the lounge. I really had no time for this.

Volume I Finale: The Terragrigia Panic, Part I (MC), June 2004

"I'm worried about Jay," Nick muttered. "I feel like he shouldn't be on this trip."

I sighed in agreement, but said, "I talked to him…but it doesn't really seem fair to tell him that he shouldn't come to Europe with us just because Daisy invited Tom along."

Nick was quiet. I snuck a look to my right, where Jay was sitting. He didn't notice. He had his head down and rocked slowly back and forth in the seat.

"How could Daisy do this to him?" Nick spoke up. "Tom's the biggest dickwad in the grade."

"I'm not arguing with you, but I'm also the last person you should talk to about relationships."

Nick fell silent again. I crossed my legs and sat back in the seat to look around the terminal. Talking with friends about messed-up love triangles, huh? I guess this was what normal teenagers talked about.

It was 2004. I'd had only sporadic contact with Miss Chambers since that day she yelled at me. I doubted she wanted to keep teaching me, and I guess I was right, since the following week I'd gone to the medical center to meet her and she didn't show. The hurt from missing my weekly visits with her still hasn't really gone away, though I guess my workload lightened up considerably since then. Despite this, I still tried to keep myself occupied learning about advanced biotechnology.

Umbrella fell last year. They declared bankruptcy after someone released damning evidence that Umbrella was directly responsible for Raccoon City's destruction. All sorts of rumors abounded as to who that was – this time, I contributed nothing to them, since I had exactly no idea who could possibly have that sort of information, but one thing was clear: Umbrella was finished and their bioterrorism days were over. Its CEO was now one of the most wanted men in the world. The United Nations and the United States even declared the formation of official armed task forces specifically to hunt and destroy bioterrorists – the BSAA and the FBC, respectively.

I excitedly called Miss Chambers to talk to her about this, but hung up before she answered. The fall of one company, even one like Umbrella, was unlikely to stop the threat of weaponized pathogens. If I celebrated, I'd be every bit the child she thought I was.

So I just continued as I was. My friends seemed surprised when I actually decided to hang out with them, with more free time for leisure, and I made an attempt to enjoy the moment. I don't think I ever quite succeeded, but I kept trying to be a regular, non-studying-all-the-time teenager.

That was why I decided to join my friends on this trip to Europe. It was just a handful of us, and initially we'd schemed with Jay to spend more time with his crush, Daisy. At the last minute, she decided to date this other guy, so now Jay was stuck on a trip to the other side of the world with a small group of people that included the girl who broke his heart and the guy she chose over him.

"We'll keep him company," Nick said. "We're bros, right? We gotta watch out for one another."

Bros, huh? "You're right," I finally answered.

The plane ride was uneventful, if not somewhat bumpy, and we landed in Terragrigia to meet up with the others. From the sky, the aquapolis looked absolutely breathtaking and I marveled at how they had managed to build a fully self-sustaining floating city in the Mediterranean Sea. It was 2004. I was still using dial-up Internet at home – people really had this sort of advanced engineering capability?

Terragrigia had a section of the city specifically for tourists – it made sense for a city like this to generate revenue from tourism. The airport was in the middle of the tourist sector with a convenient sky-tram system that connected to hotels, malls, and museums. A few of us had itineraries full of things to see. I, on the other hand, was just planning on tagging along, though I was uninterested in the beach. I don't like sand – it's coarse and rough and irritating…and it gets everywhere.

We rode the tram to our hotel, taking in the view from the glass walls of the tunnel the tram traveled through. About 15 minutes in, the tram stopped at the hotel and we disembarked into a wide room with people milling about dragging luggage and hotel staff carting around trolleys. Exiting through a set of large double doors and a short hallway, we emerged in a small lobby with escalators leading to and from the lower levels, providing access to the check-in counters. I was already exhausted by the time we finished checking in and I decided I wanted to go up to crash. We rode the elevator up – one of those where the walls were completely transparent, giving us a grand view of the plaza – and entered our respective rooms. I opened my window and looked out into the city – from the 12th floor, the view was even more breathtaking compared to the tram tunnel. It was an incredibly gorgeous day, made even more apparent by the shining solar panels and the bright blue sea beyond. People from all over the world had helped build this city and people from all over the world now lived in it – a marvel of engineering, a testament to cooperation, and an example that clean energy was absolutely possible. It did bring a small smile to my face.

I stretched out on the bed and was asleep before I knew it – a testament to how tired I was from the flight, as I usually had trouble sleeping anywhere that wasn't my room at home. A loud series of knocks woke me and I groggily answered. Amy, Rita, and Cyndi – three of our friends who were always together (we called them collectively as "the trio") – poked their heads in.

"How heavily were you sleeping? We've been trying to wake you up for like 5 minutes."

I mumbled something unintelligible even to myself. Cyndi rolled her eyes and Rita gestured outside. "We're getting people together for dinner. Come on."

I cleaned myself up somewhat and went out into the hall. Everyone was already there: Nick, with Jay in the back looking sullen; the trio, deciding where to go for food; Myrtle and her boyfriend George; and finally Tom next to Daisy.

Many indecisive minutes later, we decided to go to an American restaurant (because of course we'd go to an American restaurant in Europe) and headed out as a group. Dinner was actually nice, with Tom, Daisy, George, and Myrtle at one end of the table while the rest of us chatted amongst ourselves on the other end. After dinner, George and Myrtle decided to go on a short boat ride out into the harbor – George always did like boats – and the rest of us headed back to the hotel.

Despite having that impromptu nap earlier, I was pretty tired and fell asleep quickly, but was then woken up a few hours later by loud, sexual moaning coming from the neighboring room. It was Myrtle's very distinctive voice, to my irritation (and awkward disgust) and I tried my hardest to get back to sleep so I wouldn't need to listen to her. Why were hotel walls always so thin?

Morning came and I went through my morning routine before heading out into the hall. As I turned to lock my door, I realized something – Myrtle's room wasn't next to mine. Her and George's room was at the end of the hall.

Descending the elevator, I found Nick and Jay in the dining area. I motioned to Nick and he walked over.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"…No. Myrtle was…uhm, moaning…and the walls are thin."

Nick gave me a horrified look and I continued. "Remind me…whose room is next to mine?"

Nick shook his head. "Wait…Tom's room is next to yours."

I closed my eyes in disgust. "I. Hate. That. Guy."

Just then, Myrtle entered the room. "Hey guys, have you seen George around? I came back early from the boat ride last night. When I woke up this morning, he still wasn't here."

I took a breath and pondered what to do next when Cyndi popped into view. "There you all are. There's some weird broadcast on TV. It's on every channel. Come look."

Following Cyndi, we entered the lounge area, where the large TV showed some guy in a gas mask speaking…something.

"What language is that?" Myrtle piped up.

"It's Italian," Jay said. Nick jumped – those were probably the first words he'd uttered since the trip began.

"Do you know what he's saying?"

"He's reciting a poem. Something about…circles of Hell?"

The broadcast ended and returned to the news, where the anchor looked extremely confused. She turned away from the camera and asked what was going on, talking to (I assume) her crew before realizing her program was back on the air.

"Well, I apologize for that…not sure what just happened. We were…we were covering the strange attacks last night at the docks. Authorities say the aquatic harbor tour, a popular spot for visitors, was attacked by unknown creatures. Three boats were destroyed and sank. Investigations are ongoing."

"Hey, that's where I was last night," Myrtle said. "Wow, I'm glad I left early."

"…Didn't you say your boyfriend was still there when you left?" I responded, making an effort to push back the anger in my voice.

"Oh," Myrtle said. "Hmm, I hope he's okay."

Honestly, I didn't even know George that well, but the situation still made my blood boil. I struggled to decide whether to calm down and figure out what to do next (like determine whether or not George were indeed okay) or yell at Myrtle for being an unfaithful, heartless bitch when a loud crash from the front entrance interrupted my thoughts. More crashes followed…then screams. Whoever was at the front desk below yelled loudly and suddenly fell silent. The others in the lounge began to panic and run.

"We should go," Rita said. "The stairs. Come on!"

Together, we turned and left the lounge. As I ran down the hall, at the corner of my eye I saw a shape launch itself up into the ascending elevator, packed with people. The glass around the elevator shattered and the people's desperate screams rent the air.

"Oh my God what is that thing?"

"There're more behind us! Keep running!"

We burst through the door into the stairwell. I was already panting with exertion, but I managed to keep up with the rest as we climbed flight after flight. The dining area was on the 5th floor, meaning we had 7 floors of stairs to ascend. Emerging onto the 12th floor, I collapsed against the railing to catch my breath and looked over at the floor below. I recoiled.

There was blood. Dead bodies. Injured bodies. And swarming the floor were large, green, lizard-like things sporting long claws finishing off the injured. They moved with demonic speed and, as I watched, I quickly saw those claws weren't simply for show.

Though I'd never seen one before, I recognized them. Miss Chambers had described them to me, long ago, as one of the things she'd fought on her first mission.

"What…what…"

I turned beside me. Nick was there, watching the same scene unfold, his face pale with horror.

"Come on," I managed. "We need to congregate somewhere not as exposed."

The trio's room was the largest, so we piled on in there. Rita entered a second later with Daisy and Tom in tow. I grimaced as I remembered what I'd been so angry about, but it wasn't exactly the time for that.

"What the hell are those things?!"

"…They're called Hunters," I said, softly. "They're a bioweapon. Manufactured monster."

"You can't be serious," Tom said.

I gave him the most venomous look. "Do I look like I'm kidding? You want to go down there yourself and see whether I'm kidding?"

"Okay, okay, calm down," Rita said. "Let's figure out what to do."

"What's to figure out? We call 911," Myrtle said, moving toward the phone.

"Guys, I think you should look at this," Amy said, looking out the window. We walked over to her and looked down onto the ground below. The death and destruction were shocking – cars crashed in flames, Hunters chasing and killing panicked people, some buildings on fire…it was a far cry from the lovely view from yesterday, when we'd first arrived.

"Try the police anyway – it's 112 over here, by the way – but we need to figure out a plan in case you don't get through. It looks like the entire city is…experiencing whatever this is – everyone's going to be trying to call the police," Rita said.

While Myrtle was dialing, I spoke. "This is a bioterrorist attack. The BSAA or the FBC will have to respond. We need to hold out somewhere until they get here."

"Should we wait here? Barricade the doors?" Cyndi suggested.

"I don't think so," I responded. "If those Hunters manage to get in, we're trapped. We need to get somewhere with more of an escape route. Ideally, it'll be somewhere rescue teams are likely to land."

Tom: "The docks, then. We're on an island – they'll send forces by sea."

I shook my head. "One, the docks are out in the open. We'll be exposed. Two, there were a bunch of attacks last night in the harbor – I'm guessing whoever launched this attack is attacking from sea. We'll need to hope for air support."

"Well don't you just know everything."

I sighed. "Only compared to you, dimwit. Anyway, most roofs in this city are composed completely of solar panels. They're not going to land on them. They'll either land in the open somewhere or at the airport. We can't sit out in the open, so I say we get to the airport."

Tom advanced on me. "What did you call me?!"

"Guys, cut it out already. We have bigger issues," Rita snapped. "We'll use the sky-tram to the airport. I don't know if it's still working with all this, but it's worth a shot."

On the other side of the room, Myrtle slammed the phone down with an exasperated sigh. "You were right, Rita. All I get is a busy signal."

"Alright. Let's plan how to get to the –"

The sound of splintering wood outside interrupted Rita. Everyone turned with fearful looks toward the door. Footsteps sounded, along with some low growling. They grew louder and louder until the growls turned into a long, angry howl – which suddenly disappeared somewhere far away to our left. Toward that direction, we heard several terrified screams.

"It must've found some prey somewhere down the hall," I said. "Come on, we need to leave while it's distracted. The stairs are to the right. Let's go!"

Together we opened the door and fled toward the stairwell. The screams continued behind us with the horrifying sound of growling and flesh tearing. I didn't look back – I think none of us did. We made it to the stairwell and began to run down.

"The tram stops at the third floor," Nick said as we ran. "Come on!"

Nobody said anything as we frantically ran down the stairs, probably due to exertion and fear. As we approached the third floor, we slowed. Rita put a finger to her mouth, signaling we should be quiet – we needed to exit the stairwell, but we didn't know what was on the other side of the door. There would likely be more Hunters in the lower floors compared to where we were just at.

Nick gingerly opened the door, looked out, and turned back with a slight shrug: the coast was clear. We inched out into the hallway and began moving, as quietly as possible, toward the lobby. I still heard crashes, but off in the distance, outside the hotel. I hoped, however unlikely it was, that the Hunters had somehow decided the hotel was clear and left for some other location.

We approached the lobby. Shattered glass from the elevator shaft covered the floor, some visibly stained with blood. Rita pointed past the lobby, down at the glass, and put her finger to her lips again. Following her lead, we began tiptoeing past the elevator shaft, trying to step only in bare patches of floor. Behind me, I heard Myrtle mumble something – and then collapse to the floor.

The group turned, alarmed. "She never could handle the sight of blood," Tom said in a low voice. "Let's leave her here. She'll slow us down."

The trio collectively shot him an incredulous glare, but before anyone could say anything, a few growls from the lower floors caught our attention.

"They heard us," Cyndi whispered. "We need to go hide. Tom, carry Myrtle. You're the biggest one."

"Why should I –"

The growling grew louder. Shaking his head, Jay picked up Myrtle and awkwardly leaned her against his shoulder. He gestured with his head toward one of the rooms back down the hall with the door ajar and we began moving again. We made it to the room and Rita softly closed the door. As Jay lowered Myrtle to the floor, we stared unmoving at the door, fearfully expecting a Hunter to claw its way in. A few tense moments later, nothing had happened, and we moved further into the room.

"She's bleeding," Amy said, examining Myrtle's right leg. It didn't quite surprise me, considering she fell onto a bunch of broken glass.

"Get some of the towels from the bathroom. We should try to clean the wound." Rita replied. She looked around and added, "The people who were staying here didn't happen to carry a first-aid kit around, did they?"

I felt somewhat dirty rummaging through a stranger's luggage, but I guess I was under extenuating circumstances. My search came up empty, anyway. In the meantime, the trio had accumulated wet towels with soap around Myrtle and were doing their best for her cut.

"No luck, huh?" Rita asked, looking up. I shook my head.

"We still need to disinfect the wound. I wonder if the staff room has a first-aid kit. Or at least some rubbing alcohol."

"What about those things that are still out there?" Tom asked.

Amy sighed. "Fine. We need someone to stay in here and watch Myrtle anyway. The rest of us will go out and try to find a first-aid kit."

Tom seemed to agree to this – I couldn't quite decide whether that surprised me or not – and the rest of us prepared to leave the room.

Volume I Finale: The Terragrigia Panic, Part II (Rebecca) , June 2004

I handed the menu back to the waiter and looked back at Claire, who continued her story about her recent motorcycle trip. She'd wanted to pay a visit to some of the people she'd met while conducting volunteer activities on behalf of TerraSave and take a road trip in the meantime. I marveled at how she seemed so…happy. Well, I guess "happy" wasn't quite the correct term. She definitely seemed relaxed.

"And then…let's see…oh, right. I went to DC and saw Sherry. She wants to begin special agent training soon – next year, if possible. I'd hoped to see Leon, but he wasn't around. I wonder what he would've said to Sherry following in his footsteps."

"Sherry Birkin? Wait, how old is she?"

"I want to say 18?"

"Becoming a special agent that young, huh?"

"Says the girl who became STARS Bravo Rear Security when she was 18."

I allowed myself a small smile. Suddenly, something came to mind and I looked up at Claire. "Hey…I have a question for you. About Sherry."

"Shoot."

"How did…how did you have the kind of time to look after her? You visited her often, didn't you? I can't imagine leading TerraSave left you with much free time."

Claire shrugged. "I made time." She picked up her glass of water and took a sip, then said, "Besides, it's good to remind myself why I'm doing what I do. I'm sure you've thought of that, too, haven't you? You're a scientist, like Sherry's parents, but you're doing this to help people and make the world safer, not to make zombie viruses because you can. Without reminding yourself of the sort of people you're doing this for – the humanity in your life, what else is there?"

I was quiet. Claire continued. "Don't you have a student? The smart one, from Raccoon City? It's like that, right? You make time for him, like I make time for Sherry."

A pang of regret lanced through me. I still hadn't forgotten that day I lashed out at him. Every time I thought about it, I logically deduced that I hadn't really said anything wrong. The world was at war. We had to inure ourselves and fight. Those monsters in the mountain facilities, the destruction of Raccoon City, those creepy twins Claire went through trying to find Chris – that's what we were up against. But despite all that, I felt bad about what I'd said.

"Rebecca?"

I snapped out of my introspection and re-focused on Claire. "Sorry. Just spacing out. Tell me…tell me more about Sherry."

She quizzically cocked her head to one side, but humored me and began talking about how she'd met her in Raccoon City, how they'd escaped, and how she'd tried her best to be there for Sherry when the government scientists continually ran experiments on her to characterize the virus her father had infected her with.

As she spoke, my mind drifted again. Sometimes, when I had a long night in lab, I thought back to the graduate students in Professor Maple's group. Sometimes they seemed stressed – one of them literally told me that graduate school "is the Dark Age of life" – but they still found ways to decompress and look forward. As Claire talked about Sherry, a girl whose neglectful parents contributed to the utter destruction of her hometown, but a girl who still decided she would fight for a safer world, I thought about myself when I first joined STARS. Bright-eyed. Hopeful. Eager to make the world a better place. I'd lost that, especially since I started graduate school. During those long nights in lab, I kept telling myself that the graduate students I'd known during undergraduate hadn't seen the horrors I had, trying to justify why I despaired so while they seemed to roll with the punches, but Sherry had arguably seen worse – closer-up – and she hadn't become grim and jaded.

I thought back to the night the missile hit Raccoon City, to that pledge to fight Umbrella made over the phone. He was also bright-eyed. Hopeful. Eager to make the world a better place. I saw my younger self in him – Professor Maple was right when she said we were similar – and then, a few years later, I'd called him a naïve child who needed to grow up. I'd changed. And not for the better. And listening to Claire talk about Sherry told me that "I once went through hell" wasn't a legitimate excuse.

"Rebecca? Are you okay?"

For the second time that night, I snapped out of my introspection and re-focused on Claire. Slowly, I said, "You're all so…resilient."

"Huh?"

The food came and Claire began eating. "You and Chris and Jill. And Sherry. You all keep fighting on with hope. I don't know how you do it. Sometimes I struggle with all this and I…I think I've become this grumpy, bitter old lady."

Claire chuckled. "I'm older than you are, you know."

"I do all this research. And it seems to go nowhere. So I do more research. And the frustration gets to me. Each time I hear you or Jill talk about all this, I keep wondering whether I've lost something. This…it doesn't seem to have gotten to you the same way it has to me."

"You remind me of Chris," Claire said, taking another bite out of her sandwich. "After we got out of Antarctica, he started obsessively going to the gym. Hours on end. Every day. He drifted further and further away from his friends – from me. I think he got lost in his training, just like you. Just…he lifts weights rather than do…whatever it is you do."

"…Is he still like that?"

"He and Jill had a big argument one day. Afterward, he moped for awhile, then apologized to Jill and…he's better about it now. She's a good influence on him…always was, really."

Another bite. "It's like I said before. The humanity in our lives – the people we care about, who care about us. They're important."

I sighed and began eating. "I have a lot to think about," I said between bites.

Claire smiled. "We've all gone through some horrible things, I know. But…we'll make it. We'll make it together."

I didn't answer right away and Claire finished her sandwich. "Besides, think about it. Umbrella was a gigantic international mega-corporation and they spent all their resources making viruses and monsters and insane houses all over the world. They went under last year, in a big part due to a few police officers and a college girl looking for her brother. Sure, there are probably remnants out there – Wesker, for example, so it's not like we've won forever, but I think we've done pretty well so far with what we had."

I honestly couldn't argue with that. I felt better, I thought, just talking with Claire over dinner. Maybe she was right about the whole "humanity" thing. "Thanks," I started, when Claire's phone went off.

Claire picked it up. "Sorry, I have to take this," she said.

I continued eating and almost choked when Claire screamed, "WHAT?!"

The entire restaurant went silent and turned to our table. I froze and looked at Claire.

"Got it. I'll get over there as soon as I can." She hung up and noticed me, plus the rest of the restaurant, staring at her.

"There's been a bioterror attack on Terragrigia."

The other patrons started chattering amongst themselves. It took me a second to register what Claire had said…and then I absolutely lost it.

Frantically standing up, I leaned onto the table and began yelling. "My…he's in Terragrigia. He's on vacation there. Claire, what happened?! Tell me!"

Volume I Finale: The Terragrigia Panic, Part III (MC), June 2004

We breathed a collective sigh of relief as we returned to the hotel room, first-aid kit in tow. The trip had been remarkably uneventful, if not extremely tense. All of us expected Hunters to jump out at us at any moment, but besides the occasional low growl from the lower floors, we encountered no sign of them.

"Uhh…is this the right room? Where are they?" Cyndi's voice cut through our temporarily respite.

I blinked and looked around. The room was deserted. The towels Rita had prepared for Myrtle were still on the floor, but Myrtle herself was not. A quick search revealed no sign of Tom, either.

"Maybe…Hunters got close and they fled?" Amy posited.

"Tom wanted to leave Myrtle behind. If he'd run away, he'd have left Myrtle here. She wasn't even conscious when we left," I said.

"I honestly can't believe he even considered leaving her." Rita muttered.

I walked around the room, thinking. There wasn't any sign of a struggle, which suggested to me Tom had simply run for it, but that didn't explain where Myrtle had gone or how. It was then I thought of something – the virus that hit Raccoon City turned people into zombies. If whoever launched this attack also released a similar virus into the city and it had infected Myrtle, she would've just reanimated, gotten up, and left…but no, I distinctly remember Miss Chambers saying the virus wasn't airborne. Then again…Myrtle had an open wound.

"Guys, we need to be careful. I think they might've released a pathogen in the city."

Everyone turned to me. "What makes you think that?"

I relayed my thoughts to the group.

"This just keeps getting better and better, huh? So now what do we do?" Nick sighed.

The group paused for a bit, then Rita spoke. "There's not much use sitting around here. We'll head to the tram and go to the airport as we planned. If Tom and Myrtle made it out of here, they'll likely be heading in that direction too."

I thought to myself we were lucky Rita was on this trip with us. She'd organized most of what we'd done since the attack started. Slowly, we crept back out of the room and continued onward toward the tram stop. I felt like we were hearing fewer growls as we moved, though it could've simply been wishful thinking. We arrived as the escalators, which were still running. The escalator leading into the third floor had a pile of dead bodies collected on the top, but we saw no Hunters.

We rushed into the hallway and into the disembarking room for the tram. Some sections of the glass wall of the tunnel were broken, but the metal doors that would normally allow passengers to enter and exit the tram were still closed.

"So…I guess the first question is whether the trams are still running," Cyndi whispered. "Either we wait here or we walk into the tunnel and head to the airport that way."

"I don't think the trams are still running," I answered. "Look down that way – there's some flaming wreckage in the tunnel. So even if the trams were running, the tunnel's blocked. All the trams run from left to right, so nothing's getting here."

"Then we need to walk down the tunnel," Amy said. "Should we just crawl through the broken glass?"

"I'm worried about cuts," I said. "Even if we're careful, one mistake and we're done. I mean, we could break the glass more, but that'll make noise. I think we need to find a way to get through those doors."

"…Uhh, how?" Nick asked.

We were quiet while my mind whirled. We could go hunting for a crowbar? No, that was idiotic. Did crowbars even exist outside of video games and movies? I don't think I'd ever seen a real crowbar before. Man, I'm easily distracted. But what if…

"Guys, I think I have an idea. You guys have cell phones, right? I don't."

"Yeah…what, are we going to call the police again?" I guess I could always count on my buddies to be sarcastic, even in situations like this.

I rolled my eyes. "Let me re-phrase my question. I need 2 of you to part with your phones. For good."

"Sure. Are we going to chuck our phones at the doors?" Nick rejoined.

"Are you boys stupid?" Amy glared at us.

"I need 2 phones. Set them to max ring volume. One we're going to plant on the other side of the doors into the tunnel. The other we're going to plant at the entrance to this hallway. We're going to find a place to hide and call the hallway phone, attracting whatever Hunters are down there. When they get here, we call the tunnel phone. The Hunter will hopefully try to attack the source of the sound, smashing through the door. Then we call the hallway phone again, and while the Hunter's distracted back that way, we run into the tunnel."

"That has to be the most insane plan I've ever heard in my life. Are you high?"

"It might work. Besides, I don't have any better ideas. You can use my phone. Let's pile up the luggage around here onto the trolley and push it into that corner. We'll hide behind it." Rita took charge again.

"Rita, you have some sort of rap song as your ringtone. Maybe we should change it to that annoying shrill ring." Cyndi mused.

Nick sighed and began changing the sound on his phone. Cyndi and Amy began setting up the trolley. I told them to watch out for blood…not that I really needed to, I guess.

"I'll go plant the phones," Jay said, quietly. Nick paused for a minute, then indicated he'd go with him. Rita handed Jay her phone and went off to help the rest of the trio. I joined her. Daisy so far had done…well, nothing. I paid her no mind. Presently, Nick and Jay returned soon and we finished piling whatever luggage we could find onto the trolley.

"Jay had the bright idea of propping one of the corpses onto the door," Nick muttered. I glanced at Jay, alarmed, but he held up his hands and indicated he hadn't gotten any blood on himself. It was still not something I felt comfortable with, but having a body against the door might help convince any Hunters we attracted to attack it.

We took our positions behind the trolley. Taking a deep breath, Amy called Nick's phone. The shrill, alarming ring echoed through the hall. About 5 seconds later, we heard the unmistakable growl of a Hunter and a crash out in the hallway. Amy hung up and Cyndi called Rita's phone next. As I watched, huddled behind the trolley, a Hunter leapt from the hallway directly into the metal doors, cutting through them with one swipe. It continued swinging its arms while moving into the tunnel and the phone suddenly went silent. I assumed it had crushed it or something.

Nick's phone went off again. It took the Hunter a second to turn around before it ran back out of view. I sharply jerked my head to the side and we made a break for it. The Hunter had made a piece of work on the doors – they were completely off their tracks and broken on the floor of the tunnel. Blood was spilling out of the body Jay had propped up. I slowed and gently entered the tunnel, avoiding the body and the blood, and began running to my right, away from the flaming wreckage I'd seen earlier. The rest of the group followed.

I kept my head low, hoping anything on the streets below wouldn't notice us running down the glass tunnel. I heard nothing except the others' footsteps behind me, suggesting the Hunter back at the hotel hadn't noticed us as it investigated Nick's phone. We continued for a bit, too scared to look back, before I slowed to a stop.

I turned around to look at the others. They seemed to be tired, but uninjured.

"You owe me a new phone," Nick quipped. Amy gave him a disapproving look that brought a small smile to my face. I turned toward the glass wall and looked down at the street below. The carnage was staggering. I saw no Hunters – I guessed they were either in the buildings or further into the city – but there was no mistaking the destruction they'd caused. Bloody corpses, some missing body parts, adorned the street amidst overturned cars and dented wrecks. An 18-wheeler lay on its side. Further down the street, a burning umbrella shop sent plumes of black smoke into the air. I heard some sirens off in the distance and more than a few alarms in various buildings, likely on account of all the fire.

"Let's keep moving," Rita said softly, and we continued. "Hopefully we'll be safe in here. Those things don't really have a reason to attack or patrol these tunnels, anyway. I'm sure they got any populated trams by now."

"Even so, let's keep to the center and keep heads low," I said, as we walked.

After a few minutes of travel, it seemed Rita was right. The tunnel was quiet. Cyndi wondered how long it would take for the BSAA or the FBC to arrive and I honestly didn't know. They had been founded in response to Umbrella's bioweapons, but no major outbreaks had occurred since Raccoon City's destruction. Their response to this would likely be a first for many of their members. Miss Chambers's former compatriots were in the BSAA, as I recall, so if they responded, the rescue forces would have experience on their side. But who knows how long it would take to mobilize.

We kept walking for what seemed like forever. Tense silence hung over our trip. At one point, Nick asked whether I had any clue who'd done this, given I seemed to know more about bioweapons compared to the others, but I had no satisfactory answer for him. Umbrella remnants? That didn't make sense. Why would they attack Terragrigia?

"It was probably that creepy gas mask poet," Cyndi mused.

"That does make sense, now that you mention it," Nick answered.

"Hmm. So…which circle of Hell are we in again?" I asked, trying to provide comic relief. It didn't work.

More walking. The sun was beginning its descent. I hoped we would get inside the airport and into someplace safe before nightfall. Soon, a few signs and buildings clued us in that we were indeed approaching the airport. Though none of us said anything, the group quickened our pace. Presently, we saw some more wreckage ahead in the tunnel, right past the landing terminal into the airport. The entire area was destroyed. Very little remained of the tunnel and the entrance into the airport besides the floor. I mumbled that we should be able to get inside without issue when I noticed something. Movement.

Rita and I simultaneously held up a hand. The group stopped and we crouched down – not that there was anything to crouch behind – and stared uneasily at the wreckage up ahead. It soon became clear the movement was a person, stumbling through the wreckage, running toward us.

"It's Tom!"

He looked quite the worse for wear. As he got closer, I saw a look of pure terror on his face. Even in the situation we were in, I felt nothing but a small sense of satisfaction that Tom looked so messed up, combined with some regret that we'd run into him again. I briefly wondered whether that made me a terrible person – he was one of our classmates, after all. I didn't have much more time to ponder this before Tom got to us.

"You guys. You made it. There's…there's this monster. She's…she's chasing me."

I looked past Tom, toward the wreckage. Right on cue, another figure appeared – humanoid, not a Hunter – moving toward us with a stumbling, yet swift and steady gait.

"We need to get inside," I said.

"It's too late! She's too close to the entrance!"

It continued its approach, allowing us to see its features more clearly. It looked like a human girl, though its face was deformed horrifically. Besides that, it was covered in some sort of slimy substance and its hands were grotesquely enlarged with some sort of spiked finger appendages. It fit no description of anything Miss Chambers had described, except maybe leech-men? But no, leech-men didn't have human features; they just looked humanoid, and Miss Chambers mentioned they were controlled by that opera-singing leech Marcus guy…whom she killed back in 1998.

"Wait…that necklace…" Nick pointed. "It's Myrtle's."

I turned to Tom. "What exactly happened to –"

"You…you left me…how could you…lover…" the creature spoke in a creepy, almost singing monotone. We began backing up.

"Don't listen to her. It's a monster. I saw Myrtle get ripped to shreds by a Hunter. It broke into the room after you guys left. I got so mad I tackled it and punched it in the face until it died, then I made my escape here. Somewhere along the line this thing started stalking me."

"Liar…liar…" the creature continued to speak with that eerie tone. It had slowed down and seemed completely fixated on Tom.

Tom's story was laughably ridiculous. The notion of a regular, untrained human punching a Hunter to death was hilarious. The hotel room showed zero signs of any struggle and the spot where we'd left Myrtle wasn't exactly smeared with blood when we'd arrived. I was also quite certain the bioweapons anyone manufactured wouldn't randomly steal necklaces from the people they were attacking. Had we not been facing down whatever the Myrtle-thing was, I would've gladly called him out…but I had more pressing issues.

"That thing definitely looks like Myrtle," Rita mumbled. She turned to me. "Any insight into what to do about this?"

"Well," I said sarcastically. "Tom beat a Hunter to death, right? He should easily be able to take this thing. Let's have him fight it."

The creature giggled. "Come to me…come here…my love…"

"Why does she keep calling Tom that?" Amy asked. "Did the city get hit by a slut-virus?"

"No, I'm pretty sure it's because Tom and Myrtle were sleeping together before this."

"How the hell do you know that?!" Tom yelled.

Before I could respond, Myrtle lurched forward, raised her left hand, and swiped at Tom. Tom dove to the side, behind Cyndi, and Myrtle raised her right hand to try again. As her hand fell toward Cyndi, Amy suddenly rushed up and swung at Myrtle.

"Get away from her, you bitch!" Her fist connected with Myrtle's hand and Myrtle staggered back. Amy advanced and swung again, which Myrtle blocked with her other hand. Myrtle staggered back again and her arms fell limply to her sides. Her head slumped forward and she stumbled in place.

"She's stunned!" Amy screamed. "Now!"

The trio rushed up to Myrtle and began raining blows on her. She collapsed to the ground before I reminded everyone that now would be a great time to run away.

We fled toward the airport terminal. "Careful on the glass," I panted, as we ran into the airport.

"Departures, right?" Rita asked as we entered the long hall that connected to the sky-tram. "To the right. Go!"

The floor was, again, littered with dead bodies and puddles of blood that we needed to hop around. Presently we saw a souvenir shop and Rita pointed us in its direction. We ran inside and quickly glanced around, hoping for no threats. Besides a few more dead bodies, nothing jumped out at us.

After I caught my breath, I turned to Amy. "I'm not going to lie; that was awesome. How'd you know to hit her hands, anyway?"

"…I didn't. Is that a thing with these things?"

I shrugged. "I have no idea. It seemed to work really well, at any rate."

"We should clean our hands," Cyndi mumbled. She grabbed a nearby sweater and wiped her hands on it. The rest of the trio followed suit. I suggested using the alcohol wipes in the first-aid kit just to make sure they were disinfected, and they complied.

I found a spot of wall to lean against to catch my breath. The trio was busy cleaning up. Nick and Jay were sitting on the floor near a rack of stuffed animals. Tom was in the back, against the counter, with Daisy on his arm. I wasn't entirely sure whether that or exhaustion were the reason Jay looked even more downtrodden than he'd been the entire trip. I found myself regretting not dissuading Jay from coming along. Because of my sense of "fairness," he had to suffer Tom's presence while also getting caught in a bioterror attack.

"We're done," Rita said. "Let's plan our next move. I guess we should head to one of the gates? We'll be able to see out and hopefully make it outside when help arrives."

"That makes sense. I guess we'll need to get to a security checkpoint so we can get to the gates," Cyndi said. "Those are…where? On the first floor?"

"We could also go backwards, through where we exited after we landed. Something tells me the security guards won't exactly care," I pointed out.

"Good point," Amy said. "That actually might be faster. We're on the third floor and arrivals connect to the second floor."

"Right. We ready?" Rita stood up.

Nick and Jay followed suit and we left the souvenir shop, glancing around uneasily as we did so. As I was looking for signs to point us to the second floor, I saw movement back the way we came. Turning, my eyes widened as I watched one of the bodies begin twitching and rising to its feet. As it rose, thick slime flowed slowly off its body – just like the substance that covered Myrtle when she'd attacked us earlier.

"Guys…we should run. Now."

The group needed no further push and we took off down the hall, passing more bodies as we did so. I didn't stop to see whether these would get up, either. It didn't really matter. It also didn't matter what exactly these things were mutating into – they didn't seem to be zombies, nor did I remember anything about slime from what Miss Chambers had told me. Granted, she probably didn't tell me every detail that night on the phone.

"There! The escalator! Left!"

We turned sharply to the left and ran down the descending escalator. As we emerged on the second floor, a few more reanimated slimy corpses began shambling toward us. Before we could react, a loud growl sounded to the side and a Hunter leapt out, ripping the nearest creature apart.

"…The gates are that way!" Nick spoke, panting, looking directly at the Hunter. It hadn't seemed to notice us, instead focused on attacking whatever slime things it could see.

"We can't go that way! Quickly, back up!" I said, turning.

"Did you forget we were running from these things upstairs? We need to go down a floor. It's the only way that isn't blocked!" Amy said, turning heel and running toward the next set of escalators. We followed, sprinting down to the first floor, where we beheld even more carnage.

The doors out into the streets were completely broken and, in some cases, off their hinges. The handful of Hunters around the room left little wonder as to why. More of the slimy people – some sporting large pincers, others sporting some sort of gun-thing – were lumbering about, fighting the Hunters.

"Come on, behind the chairs," I whispered, pointing to a waiting area behind the escalator. We scurried over and scanned the area. Luckily, nothing seemed to have noticed us as the Hunters and whatever mutated things were present were busy trying to kill one another. I assumed the slimy things were infected people, based on Myrtle's appearance from before, but it never occurred to me that the Hunters would still be attacking the infected.

"How are we supposed to get past these things? Security's way over there," Nick whispered. I looked over to where he was pointing, off to our left. Directly in front of us was a check-in area, stocked with kiosks and counters. Most of the fighting was in front of the security checkpoint, which I guess made sense. I could imagine more people were there, waiting to get through security, compared to the number of people checking in at this particular airline.

I looked further in to the security checkpoint. There seemed to be fewer Hunters and mutated people beyond the metal detectors, likely because the checkpoint was also serving as a chokepoint.

Metal detectors. That gave me an idea.

"Which one of you has the best aim? When throwing?" I asked.

"Probably Tom. He's a football player, right?" Nick answered.

I sighed. "I need someone to take one of the metal posts holding up the dividers and chuck it into one of the metal detectors. The noise will serve as a distraction. In the meantime, we run behind the counters and use the baggage chute to get out of here. Hopefully, they lead onto the tarmac."

"Are you insane? I'm not going out there." Tom said, giving me a bewildered look.

I had honestly had enough of him, but before I could respond, Jay sighed beside me and said he'd do it.

"Like your scrawny ass can even lift one of those posts," Tom smirked.

"I'll just use that signpost," Jay said irritably. He looked around, then snuck over to a sign sporting a flyer advertising something or other. He picked it up, took a deep breath, and threw it directly at the security checkpoint. It landed right onto one of the mutated slimy things and clattered into a metal detector.

The alarm went off, screeching across the room. I snuck a look to my right, on the side opposite the security checkpoint. The Hunters had stopped their attack and were turning toward the sound. Snarling, one by one they ran and leapt toward the metal detector. Some of the mutated people they were fighting lumbered after them, while others just stood around.

"Give them a few seconds," I said, watching closely. Once most of whatever had decided to move toward the metal detector had done so, I motioned with a hand and we took off toward the counters. The trio arrived first, glanced around, and crawled into one of the baggage chutes. I followed, with Nick and Jay close behind. I assume Tom and Daisy followed them.

We crawled along the chute – the conveyor belt had stopped moving – and emerged into a wider room with various chutes leading out. Abandoned luggage sat in neat piles near each exit. Without missing a beat, Rita chose one of the chutes and crawled in. The rest of us followed.

After an eternity of crawling through the dark, we finally emerged outside. The belt led to a ramp, which led down onto the tarmac. Various ground equipment surrounded us. I pointed to one of the baggage carts and said we should hide in there. It would give us cover (and shelter).

Rita nodded, walked over, and unceremoniously began tossing luggage out of the cart. After we'd emptied it, we all crawled in. It was a tight fit, though none of us complained. I surmised Tom wanted to complain, but I guess he made a good decision for once and elected to shut up.

I backed up against a corner. The tarmac was quiet as night fell. I couldn't see back into the airport, nor did I have any particular wish to. I closed my eyes, wondering if I could drift off to sleep. Despite the heightened stress, I was absolutely exhausted. I'd spent more physical energy this day than I thought I had in me. Ever.

I didn't fall asleep, though. Time went on. None of us spoke. Off in the distance I could still hear sirens and alarms. Had I been able to see, I probably would have beheld a city ablaze against the night sky.

Hours passed. The trio had fallen asleep together. Daisy was awake with her head on Tom's shoulder – Tom seemed to be asleep. Nick and Jay were next to me and the quarters were too cramped for me to see them. Outside, a soft breeze blew across the cloth covering the baggage cart. It carried a faint smell of smoke.

More hours passed. I began seeing light peek in from outside. And…I heard something. Instantly alert, I shook the people I could reach awake.

"Do you hear that?" I whispered.

"Some sort of wind?" Nick answered.

"No…it's regular. It's a helicopter," Jay said.

"Are rescue forces here?" I asked. "That's impossible – the attack started yesterday. That would be insanely fast mobilization."

Amy crawled over and poked her head out the cart, looking out toward the runways. She pulled back. "There are a few helicopters inbound. They're out over the sea, so they're not coming from the city."

"What if it's more terrorists?" I asked.

"What, are they transporting monsters via helicopter now?" Nick answered.

I thought to myself I was grateful for my friends being blunt to me as Rita looked outside. "Those don't look like cargo helicopters. Let's stay put. Wait until they get close and we'll see what to do."

Squished in the cart, I couldn't see outside, but the sound of helicopter blades became clearer and clearer, until they were unmistakable, then grew louder and louder until they seemed deafening. Rita said something that I couldn't make out, but she then began to exit the cart. The rest of the trio followed and I finally had enough room to move. I joined the others outside the cart, shielding my eyes against the bright morning sun, and looked over at the landing helicopters. There were 3 of them – brown and unmarked. Once they'd touched down, the doors slid open and a handful of armed soldiers leapt out, scattering to secure a perimeter. One of them saw us and pointed, yelling something at his compatriots. I tensed, still unsure whether these troops were friendly or not, but Nick began waving his arms wildly above his head, screaming, "Help us!"

I grabbed his arm and told him to be careful, but he turned to me and pointed at the soldier. "His armband. It says 'FBC.' They're here to help us!"

Nick had way better eyesight compared to my own. I relaxed…and then all hell broke loose.

Glass shattered behind us and Hunters began leaping out of the building. I realized the noise from the landing helicopters must've attracted them. The FBC soldier waved his arm, telling us to run toward him, and we complied. He and the other soldiers fell back to their helicopters and began shooting at the approaching Hunters, though none fired in our direction. I surmised they wanted us out of the way before they started shooting at the ones directly behind us.

Jay was in the lead, followed by Tom dragging Daisy along. Nick was close behind, then the trio, and I took up the rear. As we approached the nearest helicopter, Jay stumbled on something and Tom grabbed him, threw him backwards onto the ground, and clambered up onto the helicopter with Daisy. The soldier moved forward and pushed Nick onto the helicopter next and another soldier emerged from the helicopter to assist the trio, who turned back toward Jay, alarmed. I slowed and bent down to help Jay up, reaching my hand down.

He batted my hand away.

"What? What are you doing? We need to go, now!"

Jay turned toward me, his expression one of emptiness. "Just go without me," he murmured.

"Are you insane?!"

He looked back at the helicopter, at Daisy still on Tom's arm, and looked back at me. I shook my head. "She's not worth it! She's not worth this! You need to –"

A Hunter – I guess the one right behind us – suddenly leapt right into us. With one swipe, Jay's head fell onto the ground and his lifeless, headless body crumpled in front of me. It took me a second to register what had happened and I stumbled down to the ground. My world went quiet and time slowed.

My heart beat once. Jay's head rolled away from me, blood trailing from his severed neck.

My heart beat again. I turned, slightly, and the Hunter was right there, only centimeters from my face, staring at me, snarling, raising its arm for another strike. I couldn't move. I couldn't react. I just stared.

A shot rang out through the air. Then another. The Hunter staggered and crashed to the ground. I just looked at it without reaction. Dimly I was aware of somebody hauling me up and dragging me back to the helicopter, but by then my surroundings had become a blur and my senses were completely numb.

I don't quite know what happened next. I think we stayed in the helicopter for some time while the FBC forces continued securing the area. Eventually, some planes arrived, they carted us onto one and, after more waiting, carted more survivors from within the city in with us. I paid little attention to my surroundings. All I could see, even safely within that plane, surrounded by FBC troops, was my decapitated friend and the vicious Hunter staring me in the face.

Dimly, I was aware of the plane taking off, of my friends around me, and eventually of landing. People – armed and unarmed, uniformed and not – entered the plane and escorted us off, one by one. They either carried me off or I robotically followed my friends off. I'm not sure. Once I had disembarked, they put me on a stretcher and rolled me into a building.

As they pushed me through the building, I heard a familiar voice grow louder and its owner approached. And before I knew it, Miss Chambers was looking down at me, screaming at me, telling me how glad she was that I was alive.

Volume I Finale: The Terragrigia Panic, Part IV (Rebecca), June 2004

"You…care?"

He'd only said two words when I found him on the stretcher, his voice slow and full of wonder. Was it whatever he'd gone through in Terragrigia? Or did he remember the day I'd kicked him out of my life? Maybe it was both. I stood back, stunned, and the TerraSave nurse told me he'd be in good hands before pushing him further into the facility.

I left the facility and walked onto the landing zone. BSAA and TerraSave members were running around all over the place, registering the newly arrived survivors and sending them to appropriate treatment zones. It was the first time I'd seen them in action first-hand, which I suppose was a good thing, as this was the first act of bioterrorism they'd had to respond to in their entire history.

"Rebecca!"

I turned to see Claire jogging up to me. "Did you find him?"

"…Yeah. He's…I don't know. Stunned?"

"We'll take care of him," Claire responded. "Don't worry."

She pointed to a small group of teenagers and said, "Those are the people he was traveling with. I talked with some of them. Apparently he and one of his friends got attacked by a Hunter. Only he survived, but I'm sure it was pretty traumatic for him anyway."

I was quiet.

"Anyway, we could use your help. I'll have you report to the triage center."

I nodded and Claire pointed me to an adjacent building before heading off. I looked at the group she'd pointed out. One of them, a muscular guy with a petite girl holding his arm, was saying something while laughing. I wondered how anyone could be laughing in his situation and turned toward the triage center, but not before one of the girls – not the one on his arm, but one with a taller girl and a shorter girl flanking her, stood up and yelled, "I. Have had enough. Of your bullshit!" Then she delivered a backhand across the muscular guy's face that I could hear from all the way where I was.

I wasn't entirely sure how to react to that, so I continued on into the triage center. There weren't many people needing attention in the center; I assumed more would be arriving as rescue efforts continued. As I worked, I watched the others in the room. Some were more confident with their skills than others were. Some were better at reassuring the patients, while others went about their duties mechanically. But something jumped out at me – every last person in the room providing care to the survivors was focused and determined. These were all volunteers. They were here simply because they wanted to help combat bioterrorism. It was hard not to feel inspired by all the energy and effort before me.

I finished and asked about whether or not anyone had taken samples from the survivors' belongings for analysis. We needed to study whatever virus they'd unleashed on Terragrigia to develop any countermeasures. They hadn't, as they were focused on providing first-aid, but with the patients stable, I organized them into teams to collect as many samples as they could. It was my turn, I suppose, to do what Professor Maple's lab did for me in 1998.

We finished and I went out to look for Claire and ask about any lab equipment we might have. It took me awhile to find her, as she seemed to be running around organizing all of TerraSave's efforts in the base. Eventually I caught her and she directed me to the BSAA labs, where I went, organized the technicians there, and began setting up. They seemed taken aback that a stranger had just shown up and begun giving them directions, but then Claire popped her head in, told them to shut up and listen to me, then disappeared as quickly as she'd arrived.

Over the next few days, I continued providing medical attention to the survivors (plus the trickle of more people evacuating from Terragrigia) and analyzing what we could from anything recovered from the evacuees. The BSAA continued monitoring the situation in Terragrigia, trying to piece together what had happened. The director of the BSAA, Clive O'Brian, called me to a meeting (having heard about how I'd taken over the BSAA labs) to discuss what we knew so far.

"Unfortunately, we don't know a lot," he began. "The terrorist group Il Veltro has since claimed responsibility for the attack. It seems they are operating out of a number of ships in the Mediterranean, but we don't know how many, nor do we know where and how they obtained these ships. We know they released a new virus, termed the t-Abyss, into the city via unmanned aerial vehicles – we assume they launched these from their ships. Finally, their primary method of attack has been an army of Hunters, first released into the tourist sector. From there, they've since spread out throughout the city. This is about all we know so far."

"This doesn't add up," I said. The room turned to look at me. "From my analysis, this t-Abyss is derived from the t-virus that hit Raccoon City. There are some major differences that we're still trying to discern, but the t-Abyss, like the t-virus, isn't airborne. Why would Veltro disperse the virus from UAVs?"

"We've been investigating rumors of a black market for bioweapons ever since Umbrella's fall," O'Brian responded. "If Veltro simply purchased these bioweapons, it stands to reason they don't know the biology like you would."

"Even with this black market, someone had to develop this virus. From what I can tell so far, the mutations associated with the t-Abyss seem…aquatic in nature. In other words, this virus is very well-suited to attacking something like Terragrigia, a floating city in the middle of the Mediterranean."

"So…someone made this virus specifically to attack Terragrigia, but that someone isn't Veltro, because Veltro doesn't seem to understand how to spread this virus properly," a bald man with a nasal voice piped up.

"Exactly. Moving forward, I'm also surprised at how quickly the FBC responded. Claire got a call Tuesday night about the attack. By Wednesday night, this base wasn't even fully staffed yet since she and you were still calling people in, but the FBC had already gained a foothold in Terragrigia and evacuated a group of survivors." I paused. "Don't get me wrong. I'm happy they did. I just wonder how a task force based in the United States could hear about this attack, deploy forces across the Atlantic Ocean, and gain a foothold within the span of 1 day. Back when I was in STARS, it took a few weeks to deploy us into the Arklay Mountains to investigate the first t-virus outbreak…and the Arklays are right outside the city."

"Not to mention their timing is impeccable," O'Brian said, in a musing voice. "By the time the FBC arrived, the Hunters had mostly moved on to other parts of the city. The bioweapons they encountered when landing in the tourist sector were only a fraction of what initially hit the area."

"Sounds like that first group of survivors really lucked out," said a taller man with a short beard.

I was quiet. Yes, they'd been incredibly lucky to make it out of there alive. I had my suspicions, as I'd expressed, but I was very grateful.

"I think regardless, we need more information," O'Brian said. "I'm assembling a task force to accompany me to Terragrigia. If I call your name, prepare for deployment. Rebecca, I'll have to ask you to continue your lab analysis."

I looked down. "I…I actually need to get back to school," I said. "I came here on very short notice. I'm sure the technicians can continue without me. They know what to do now."

O'Brian nodded. "Thank you, then. Safe journeys."

He picked up a clipboard and began giving out orders as I stood up and left the room. I walked through the base, looking for Claire, again amazed by how dedicated everyone around me was. Claire's words during dinner that night stuck with me – a handful of police officers and herself had managed to fight off a mega-corporation's most advanced bioweapons. Now that more people knew about the threat of bioterrorism – now that more and more people were joining the cause to defeat it…at that moment, I felt some semblance of hope. Ironically, it took a major bioterror attack to make me see that humanity could and would triumph in the end.

After I returned home, I spent time organizing my graduate research and called a meeting with my PI to discuss how to translate my data to publication. Yes, evil supervillains could use my work to make pathogens if it got out there, but I'd seen first-hand that many people on our side existed too, who would benefit from my work when combating those pathogens.

I became friendlier to my colleagues. I worked harder, I think, which was somewhat counterintuitive as part of my problem before was spending too much time at work, but this time I went after my research with renewed faith in its purpose. People all around me whispered amongst themselves, wondering what had changed in me. I never explained any of this to them, and over time, nobody seemed to care.

Finally, I asked to start those tutoring sessions back up. I still didn't think he needed tutoring, but it was nice to meet up once a week again. Gradually, we started talking about more mundane matters, rather than strictly focusing on studying. In the end, Claire was right. The humanity in my life…was the most important part of all.